The Langley Sisters Trilogy Boxed Set (56 page)

“Do you regret what you gave up? The chance to live your life as you chose to?” Her head was tilted slightly as she studied him.

“No, to this day I know I made the right decision to care for them.” Something inside Finn changed at that moment. She looked at him, and it was almost as if his heart sighed.
 

“Thank you for telling me your story, Finn.”

Lifting her hand to his lips, he kissed the back.
 

“You are welcome, Phoebe.”

She gave him a sweet, genuine smile and he felt something settle in his chest. A rightness. Reluctantly, he returned her to Olivia, where he stayed and talked for as long as he could without it appearing obvious he did not want to leave her side. Finn knew that when he did, someone would step up and claim her for a dance; in fact, he was amazed they hadn’t already, and then he would have to grit his teeth and watch her in the arms of another man.
 

“Miss Langley, may I have this dance.”

Finn sighed, then with a bow he went to find his next dance partner.
 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
 

“Miss Langley, Miss Wooller, I simply must know who made those gowns.”

Phoebe had located Hannah after dancing with Finn and between them they had spent the evening answering questions about their gowns. Her face hurt from smiling but it had been worth it. Surely over the next few days many of these women would have visited their boutique?

“Oh, Lady Jordan, you simply must visit Madame Alexander’s’ boutique. I saw the most beautiful shade of emerald that no one but you could wear. It was simply divine, was it not Miss Wooller?”

Letting Hannah take over the conversation, Phoebe let her eyes wander. She found Finn dancing and watched his long, elegant strides. Even dancing, he was so much a man, in his dark blue jacket and fawn breeches. Nothing effeminate touched him as it did with so many others. Even his ring was a thick, plain, sold gold band with a small ruby stuck in the top without ceremony or decoration. His necktie was not elaborate but elegant around his wide neck, and the cloth of his jacket fit perfectly to his broad shoulders. His hands were big, and nails clean and cut with a blunt edge. Phoebe was struck with a wave of longing as she looked at him. When the time came for him to marry, he would care for his wife. She would be his princess and know each day that he was there to watch over her. He would not be an easy husband, yet he would be one who protected and cherished. She turned away as the thought brought her pain; it would not be her. She saw Alex then, he was gesturing for her to follow him.
 

“Excuse me, ladies. My sister is signaling me.”

Walking through the guests, she reached his side as he was just about to walk through a door. Following, she slipped through behind him.
 

“Quick, Phoebe, follow me.”

She did, and soon they had slipped down a hallway and up a set of stairs.

“Where are we?” Phoebe whispered as they entered a long narrow room. The curtains were thrown wide so she could see Alex’s face.
 

“The gallery,” he said, sweeping his hand towards a wall.
 

“Oh, I see.” Phoebe looked up at the line of serious faced portraits above her.

“And I can no longer wait to hear how our gowns have been received.”

She saw the excitement in his eyes that she was sure both she and Hannah had mirrored in theirs.

“Well? Don’t make me wait, Phoebe. I have tried all evening to draw near you or Hannah but Ben or another of my friends pulls me in another direction.”

“Oh, Alex, it has been a wonderful night, starting with the Duchess of Hathaway who questioned Livvy about the designer of her gown.” Clapping her hands together she twirled in an excited circle. “We did as you told us to, and flattered everyone who asked. I have given the address to Madame Alexander’s to so many women that if they all come we will have work for many weeks.”

Alex took her hands and spun her in a circle as he, too, laughed.
 

“Phoebe, my love, I see success in our futures!”

She laughed as he hugged her close. Lifting her off her feet, he spun her in a circle before releasing her.
 

“And now we must return before we are noticed missing.”

“You go, Alex, and I shall follow momentarily. My feet hurt in these impossibly tight slippers, and I must sit for a few seconds before once again pasting on a smile and stroking the vanity of those I would rather not.”

“Ah, but they are the perfect decoration for that beautiful gown, my dear, and you will stroke and pander all night, if need be.”

Phoebe laughed and then hugged him once more before releasing him so he could leave the room. She sighed and wandered to the windows. It had begun; her head whirled with ideas. Tomorrow they would begin to design gowns for the women of London society.

“What the hell was that about?”

Phoebe spun so fast she stumbled, but instantly

righted herself. Looking to the door at the other end of the room that Alex had just departed from, she saw Finn walk in.
 

“I saw you in my brother’s arms, Phoebe. I will not allow you to play games with him!”

“It’s not what it seems, Finn.”

Phoebe’s heart thumped as he stalked towards her, suddenly so big and menacing he was no longer the gentle man she had danced with. His face was now forged in stone.

“Then what is it?”

He reached her in one more stride, his hands clamped around her upper arms.

“Let me go.”

“No.” He pulled her close and the breath left Phoebe’s lungs as he touched his lips to the skin of her neck. “I’ll never let you go.”

“Please, Finn, you must listen to me.”

The sensation of his lips was exquisite and Phoebe felt the slow throb of heat begin to fill her body again.

“He can’t have you, Phoebe. You’re mine.”

“No, it’s not that way between us, Finn. Alex and I we are friends.”

But he was past talking it seemed; instead, placing a hand on her chin, he tilted her head and took her lips in a long, slow exploration. Phoebe wanted to fight him but instead, as his lips touched hers, she felt her body ignite with pleasure as if she had been waiting for this, too.
 

“Open for me, Phoebe.”

She did as he asked and Finn slipped his tongue inside as she complied and deepened the kiss, pulling her closer until her breasts were crushed against his chest.

Finn picked her up and walked to the long table that sat between the windows. Placing her on top, he slipped his hand up her skirts, pushing them to her thighs and then stepped between her spread legs. Phoebe was beyond protest; she just wanted him to hold her, wanted him to ease the gnawing ache of need that had taken root inside her since the last time he kissed her.

He took her mouth again as his hand tugged the bodice of her dress lower until her breasts were free. She couldn’t think; her head was clouded with the scent and feel of him pressed against her.
 

“There will be no one else for either of us, Phoebe,” he rasped, lowering his head to place a long slow lick down her chest to the rise of one breast. “You’ll marry me.” His words sounded as if someone had ripped them from him, raw and hungry with need.
 

Phoebe heard her cries as he took the nipple into his mouth. Her body arched towards him pushing herself deeper into his mouth as she urged him to take more of her, ease the building pressure inside her body.
 

“Touch me, Phoebe.” The heat of his words blew over the sensitive flesh as he eased backwards to look at her.

She bit into the fabric on the tip of her fingers and pulled off her gloves and then she tugged his cravat free. Her fingers fumbled with the small buttons until she had his chest bared.

“God, yes.” The breath hissed from his throat as her hands trailed across his chest.

He was so warm; the wide, solid expanse of his heated chest was slopes and plains of muscle begging to be touched. Phoebe had never touched a man this way, so she went by instinct and stroked him with soft butterfly caresses. Moving lower, she trailed her hands over his ribs then smoothed her palm over his stomach, feeling the muscles clench under his fingers.
 

“You feel so different,” she whispered, bending forward to kiss his neck, inhaling the masculine scent.

“And you feel like heaven,” he whispered, easing her upright again so he could cup her breasts in his hands. Phoebe felt her eyes close as he rubbed his thumbs over her swollen nipples.

“Say it, Phoebe. Say you’re mine.”

“Yes,” she moaned low in her throat as his fingers tightened briefly.

 
One hand moved to her thigh, with fingers splayed as they traveled upwards slowly as his mouth moved back to hers. His chest brushed the sensitive tips of her nipples and Phoebe felt the pressure inside climb higher. He stroked her thigh, his fingers slowly moving inwards until he was touching her intimately, stroking the silken curls and lower to the swollen folds beneath. When he pushed a finger deep inside her, Phoebe shuddered. His thumb rubbed the small hard bud as he eased out of her then back in.
 

Her head was spinning, her body so taunt she would surely shatter. Wrenching her lips from his, she cried out his name. With one more thrust, she arched towards him as waved after wave of sensation poured through her. His lips captured hers as she cried out once more.

      Slowly Phoebe regained her senses. She was slumped forward in his arms. Her breasts were freed and Finn stood between her spread legs. Dear Lord, anyone could have walked through the open door and seen them.

      “I-I need to fix my clothing…please.”

      “We will wed, Phoebe, as soon as it can be arranged.”

      She didn’t look at him as he lifted her off the table, instead pulling up her bodice and smoothing her skirts.
 

      “You understand that, don’t you, Phoebe?”

      “You don’t want to marry me, Finn, you just want me. There is a difference.” Phoebe swallowed the pain these words caused her.

      “No, there is not,” he said slowly, each word spoken clearly and concisely. “And had it been only desire I felt for you then I would not have stopped and would now be buried deep inside you and not standing here in pain.”

      Lowering her hands to her sides at his coarse words, she looked at him, seeing the tension coiled tight in every line of his body.
 

      “I need you to believe there is nothing between your brother and me.”

      “It matters not,” he said, yet his eyes told her otherwise.

“It matters to me, Finn. If I am to marry a man who does not love me, the least I deserve is his trust.”

She saw a small flare of something in his eyes, and then it was gone.

“I will call upon Will tomorrow to discuss this.”

Phoebe felt anger begin to build inside her.
 

“Do you believe me when I say there is nothing between your brother and me, Finn?” His silence was so loud it made Phoebe flinch.

“If you have no respect for me, then at least have it for you brother, Lord Levermarch. He is one of the finest men of my acquaintances and up until a few minutes ago I had believed he had learnt that from you.”

Phoebe walked away from him then, making her way out the door she had entered not long before, only this time she was no longer smiling.

She was surprised to see that everyone was as she had left them as she re-entered the ballroom. How was that possible when she had changed? She had allowed a man to take liberties with her body and she had enjoyed it, even encouraged it. For a brief moment in time, she had lost herself in the arms of the man she loved. She acknowledged now what her heart had told her for awhile. She loved Finneous Levermarch with all her heart and she was a fool. He could never love her or trust her. He wanted her body but nothing more, and because of it he was willing to sacrifice himself on the altar of his lust. Well, it would be a cold day in hell before Phoebe wed a man because he wanted to bed her, even if she loved him.

Brushing past a few guests, she made her way slowly to where she knew Livvy stood. She had never felt like that before, the total blinding need to be possessed by another person, so much so that you forgot all reason. Why did he have to be the man to make her realize what could truly be experienced between a man and a woman?
 

“Hello, Phoebe. Where have you been?”

“Searching for, Hannah, Livvy. She is quite the social butterfly tonight. It is hard to find her as she seems to be flitting everywhere,” she said, keeping her eyes away from her eldest sister. Livvy would know instantly that something was wrong if she really looked at Phoebe.

“She is showing off her gown as we have both been doing all evening. Madame Alexander’s’ name is on everyone’s lips, Phoebe. I do believe after tonight you will be inundated with people wanting you to make them a gown.”