Rogues Gallery (56 page)

That made him laugh. "It is indeed strange times when a wastrel is smoothing the way in society for a rakehell."

"Former rakehell," she added with a grin. "And you know the
ton
is eager to see that Flighty Felicia is wed at last too."

"Without an elopement being involved."

"Precisely. And to the most notorious wastrel in London."

"Former wastrel." His eyes sparkled with mischief. "I hope you invited Lady Thornham. She insisted that marriage was what I needed to settle my wild ways, and I can demonstrate how well I have reformed."

If Felicia had her way tonight, Lady Thornham would have even more reasons to scold this former rogue.

She scooted even closer to him, wrapping her hand around his arm. "I would love to hear of your wildest exploits."

Hugh shook his head. "They are much too scandalous."

"So I must wait until you write your memoirs?"

"I have no intentions of writing my memoirs." He added a theatrical shudder, which made her smile.

"I can do it for you. I already know the rumors and the gossip. I merely need to see how much they match with the truth."

"I suspect the rumors and gossip are much more entertaining than the truth."

"So you did not wager Lord Bendringham you could cuckold him without his discovering it?"

"Of course not." His lips twisted with amusement. "Why would I suggest such a wager when he had already been cuckolded?"

"I knew it was true," Felicia gasped.

"I did not cuckold him. Though his wife did her best to persuade me otherwise."

"You mean you did not legitimately earn the title of Lord Wastrel?"

"Oh, and listen to how disappointed you sound!"

"That is not the case at all. Well," she confessed, "perhaps just a bit."

"Would you prefer a more scandalous husband?" Hugh removed his gloves, placing them on the seat next to him, and then took his time tugging her kidskin ones from her hands. "Am I too staid for your taste, Flighty Felicia?"

She watched, fascinated, as he turned her palm face up, and then traced his fingers over her bare skin, from her wrist to her fingertips.

"Hugh, do you honestly believe you could ever be staid?" Her words came out as more of a whisper, thanks to his continued caressing, and the intimate tone of his voice. "Though I will admit you have become rather stuffy these past weeks."

"I have, haven't I?"

Felicia had not expected that answer. "It's perfectly understandable," she said, determined to defend this man she loved. She brushed a strand of dark hair away from his forehead, smoothing out the frown that had taken up residence there. "You were in the market for a very different sort of wife than me, yet I foisted myself on you until you had no choice but to accept my proposal of marriage."

He brought her wrist to his lips for a long kiss. She shivered, and when he began nibbling on her skin, watching her the entire time, she nearly swooned from the abundance of pleasure.

"I love your description of events, Felicia." His lips curved into a wicked smile. "But I cannot permit you to believe, even for a moment, that I do anything unless I wish to."

She could not breathe for several moments. He continued to gaze at her with such desire, only this time he was not fighting it, not at all. He was as intent as she was to explore this riotous passion between them.

"Then I have another proposal for you."

"A proposal? What might that be?" Hugh asked, surprised his voice remained steady. He was in such a heightened state from all of the intimate touches between them, the accidental brushes of Felicia's breast against his arm, the silkiness of her skin beneath his fingertips.

"I should like to spend a wicked evening with Lord Wastrel."

It was a wonder his body did not combust from the heated excitement swamping him just then. He couldn't wait to introduce Felicia to a world of undeniable pleasure.

"You have a very private audience with Lord Wastrel," he murmured in her ear. "Tell me what you desire from the scoundrel."

He kissed his way to the base of her throat, thrilled at how her breath came more quickly with each of his kisses. He placed his lips right where her pulse fluttered wildly, which aroused him more than he could have imagined.

He had expected her to respond to his question with one of her own. Instead, she tilted his head back toward the carriage cushions, then placed her luscious mouth, ever-so-slowly, on his. His first instinct was to deepen the kiss, but their carriage drive home was far from over. He could spend that time showing Felicia just how delicious the anticipation could be while they teased each other.

He nibbled at her bottom lip, tenderly, followed by a little sharper bite. She gasped, and then instantly did the same to him. He felt a spike of lust shoot through him. He was so aroused, from one brief kiss, he could only hope to outlast the minx.

He lifted her onto his lap, one arm curved around her shoulders, his other against her bottom. He smoothed his hands over her, wishing she had more skin available for him to see, though in the darkened interior of the coach, touch, not sight, was the sense they would make the most use of.

As if she was reading his thoughts, Felicia sat up and, while he held onto her waist, she maneuvered herself until she straddled him. His widened eyes caused a saucy grin to appear on her face.

"I have never been a fan of sidesaddles," she explained.

He chuckled. "Is this more comfortable?"

She nodded, and then shook her head. "My skirts—"

"Yes, I see."

He tugged until the delicate muslin was bunched up around her thighs—her beautiful, exposed thighs, framed by the garters around her stockings. He had seen many a shapely leg in his day, but none had made his pulse race like seeing Felicia's bared to his view. He traced his fingers along her skin, treasuring each and every one of her shivers.

"I am not chilled," she hastened to add.

He grinned and placed a quick kiss on her lips. "I know."

"Of course," she said, her voice a whisper. "I merely wanted to reassure you."

"You have earned my gratitude."

He continued stroking up and down one thigh, his other hand coiled about her waist. It would not do for the carriage to hit a rut in the road and have her bouncing onto the floor.

"If you placed your arms about my neck—"

She instantly linked her fingers behind him. "Like this?"

"Perfection."

And it was. He could touch her with both hands now, and see just how she responded as she became more aroused with every one of his caresses. He continued smoothing his hand up and down one leg, pushing the fabric a little higher with each turn. He felt her skin warm under his touch. She moaned, moving instinctively to get more contact, but he forced himself to resist that particular touch. At least for a little while longer.

He unfastened the spencer covering the front of her dress, impatient with the numerous buttons. But he was rewarded, finally, with the sight of her hard nipples pressing against the thin bodice of her dress. There was no evidence of a chemise or stays. The minx had planned her surprise well.

He placed his palms against her breasts, unable to resist, especially when it produced a sharp hiss of pleasure from her.

"Hugh," she murmured.

Her eyes slowly closed, and her head tilted back as she lost herself in the rising sensations. Her movements emphasized the irresistible rosy skin above her neckline. He leaned forward and placed his open mouth on a curve displayed so enticingly just for him. Her floral scent drove him mad with longing. The softness of her skin aroused him unmercifully.

All of a sudden his plan to prolong their pleasure seemed foolhardy.

Felicia was so passionate, so much more responsive than he had dreamed. It would be so easy to claim her that very moment, but he was no more willing to take her innocence in a carriage than atop his desk.

He nearly growled his frustration. Why did their passion always flare out of control when a bedchamber was not close at hand?

"Hugh," she pleaded.

He knew she was not aware precisely what she was asking for. She merely needed some sort of relief, and he could at least provide her a momentary release.

He sucked her nipple into his mouth, wishing the muslin fabric, as insubstantial as it was, did not stand between them. Felicia grabbed his hair in her fists and pulled him even closer. He nibbled while she moaned, and then he finally tugged the bodice completely out of the way. Her eyes shot open the instant the cool air touched her bared flesh.

His heart pounded as he circled his tongue around her puckered skin. She managed a long-drawn-out, "Yes," stroking his hair, holding his head in place while he nearly went mad with pent-up desire.

She rocked her body against his, slowly, seductively. He slid his hand lower, between her legs, giving her a chance to retreat. She did not, and he nearly cried out when he touched her, feeling the evidence of her arousal. He sucked on her breast a little harder, stroked her a little more insistently.

She gripped his neck tighter and then pressed herself down against his hand, her desire making her even more daring. Her uninhibited moans almost undid him. He continued the pressure on her, but it was not enough. She needed even more pleasure from him. He could scarce wait to give it to her, in any way he could.

He moved his finger up and down the smooth curve of her, several times, and then slipped it inside. She nearly screamed but he captured her open mouth with his, kissing her intensely. He quickly added another finger and continued to stoke her desire, increasing his own as he thought of that moment when he would have more than his hand to please her.

Her movements became more frantic, her breath more erratic. He knew she was close to completion. He bent his head once more and bit her nipple, a little harder than before, just as he delved deeper inside her wet heat. Her head dropped back and she wailed his name, just as her body began its insistent clenching.

He held her tightly with his other arm, kissing her throat and her breasts, treasuring each of her shudders. He nearly broke out in a sweat knowing he'd be completely inside her the next time she came apart. He kept her cocooned in his arms, tucking her head into his shoulder, rocking her slightly while her breathing slowly evened out.

What would her reaction be to the other pleasures awaiting them once they returned home?

"Felicia," he whispered, hugging her tightly to his chest, almost possessively. "When we arrive home—"

She rubbed her face against his waistcoat, grasping his lapel in her fist at the same time.

He chuckled, and started to tease her for her rough treatment of his clothing, especially since she was not making any attempt to remove it. But all of a sudden her breathing deepened, and her body went slack. If he did not have a tight grip on her, she might have easily slipped off his lap onto the carriage floor.

"Felicia? Are you—"

He dropped his head against the cushions and cursed his fate.

His wife had fallen asleep.

"You are certain all of this is necessary?" Hugh grumbled once more.

He had other plans in mind, ever since they had been thwarted the previous evening, and he was impatient to show Felicia what was possible once a bed was involved. He could have easily awoken her once they returned home, to commence their long-delayed wedding night, but he desired more than a quick tumble with a sleepy bride. A great deal more.

Unfortunately, that decision had left him in a heightened state the entire day, unable to see his wife for more than a fleeting moment before she scurried off to oversee yet one more item for tonight's gala.

"Yes, it is all quite necessary, Hugh. Since I did not have a betrothal ball, I wanted this opportunity to celebrate our union."

"Yes, yes, of course. I do not know how I had forgotten that." Hugh realized how backwards everything had been for Felicia, but she had accepted it with her typical aplomb. He lifted her hand to his lips. "My mind has been elsewhere today."

With any luck she would know what he was thinking. If not, his tightening breeches would no doubt let her, and every one of their guests, in on the secret.

Felicia's knowing grin was accompanied by a delightful pinkening of her cheeks. "This event will also ensure that Tony and Julian are able to consider some matrimonial prospects."

"I knew it! You are attempting an elopement academy, in our very home."

"I am not!" She sidled next to him, and his arm wound its way around her waist, as if it knew it belonged there. "But what better time to surround them with a bevy of beauties and convince them of the benefits of this curse?"

Tony ambled over just in time to hear her last comment. "That curse again? Even if I believed in it, which I never will—I am meant to break a few more hearts before I fall in love."

Felicia gave Tony a good pinch, one that appeared to have an extra little twist to it.

"Normally I reserve these for Hugh, but you deserve this with your wretched talk about breaking hearts. I can only wait for the day when yours is broken instead."

"Hah!" Tony tried to get away from her, but she was a nimble one. Her fingers kept a firm grip on him. "How have you not frightened off your husband with that fiendish trick?"

Hugh bit back a grin. "Actually it does my heart glad to see Felicia bestowing pinches on someone else for a change." He gave a quick nod in Tony's direction. "My gratitude for taking my place this once."

Tony swatted at Felicia's hand and she finally relented. He rubbed the tender spot, scowling at her the entire time. "You are forever that mean-spirited little minx who would not take no for an answer when we were children."

Hugh tried to glare at the man, but he should have remembered Felicia needed no champion. She leaned closer to her cousin. Tony stepped back, nearly succumbing to the defensive urge to protect the more sensitive portions of his anatomy.

Hugh choked back a laugh, as well as a swell of sympathy.