The Perks of Being a Beauty (7 page)

He soothed her with a soft crooning sound and touched her again, this time stroking back and forth until he found the small nub at the center of her pleasure. This time she gasped but made no sound, but the pump of her hips against his hand told Quentin that his actions were appreciated. He was as hard as a rock beneath her but this moment was for her, he’d decided. He wanted to be in possession of all his faculties when he watched her come for the first time.

As it happened, he didn’t need to wait for long. With one more stroke of her clitoris, she went over the edge, spasming around his fingers and jerking uncontrollably against him, her face ecstatic and beautiful in the dim light of the greenhouse.

Collapsing against him at last, she curled her face into his neck and breathed heavily against his neck for a couple of minutes. Finally, when she seemed to have returned to normal, she kissed him long and appreciatively.

“That,” she said, “was amazing.”

“I’m glad you thought so,” he said, kissing her on the nose. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”

Amelia pulled back a little. “But what about you?” she asked, her expression contrite as she shifted, to his chagrin, in his lap. “I didn’t mean to be the only one to…”

“But I was happy to let you be the only one to…” He let the silence hang in the air just as she’d just done, making a gesture in the air with his hand. When she made as if to wiggle again, he clamped his hands down on her thighs and held her still. “Don’t move for a moment or two, all right?” he asked through gritted teeth.

“I’m sorry,” she said with genuine remorse. “Does it hurt very much?”

“It’s nothing I can’t live with for a few minutes,” he said. “But it will definitely help if you don’t move until I give you the go-ahead.”

Nodding, she lay her head back down on his shoulder. “Thank you. You were always a gentleman. Even when we were young.”

“And you were always a very pretty girl,” he whispered against her hair. Quentin had always known that the attraction between them was a strong one, but he would never have guessed it would still be so after all these years. Even after he’d learned just what she’d become in London.

“But not a very nice girl,” she said softly. “Even then, I wasn’t a kind person.”

There was something in the tone of her voice that made him hold her tighter against his chest. And kiss her forehead tenderly. “Yes, you were,” he said, rubbing her back with his hand. “You didn’t want anyone to know it, but you were always kind to the people who depended on you. It was just that you had no one to rely upon. And that made you a little … hard.”

“Was that it?” she asked, and he could tell that she really didn’t know. “I know that Mama was even then somewhat difficult to manage. And my uncle was unreliable. All I can remember now from those days is how indifferent I was to the other girls in the neighborhood. I never did make friends easily. Especially not with other girls.”

Quentin had a theory as to why that was. And it had to do with her mother, and how she’d drilled it into Amelia’s head from the time she was small that other girls were her competition. But now was hardly the time to have that conversation.

“I think that was some of it,” he said, finally.

He wasn’t sure what this new relationship with Amelia would bring. To either of them. But he did know that he would do his damnedest to show her that she was not only a good person, but a person worthy of being loved. Even if, in the end, they chose not to pursue this thing they’d started.

“But mostly,” he continued, kissing her on the temple, “I think you were just scared. Friends would mean people you’d need to leave behind when your mother decided to pull up stakes again.”

“True enough,” Amelia admitted, snuggling against him. “Lucky for me you refused to take no for an answer and pestered me until I agreed to dance with you at the village assembly. Otherwise I’d have had no friends at all. Male or female.”

“I believe that is called persistence,” he said haughtily. “Now, let’s go find the others before they report us missing.”

Chapter Five

The rest of the guests didn’t seem to have noticed the absence of Amelia and Quentin during the game. Quentin had learned long ago that people saw what they expected to see. And since none of them could possibly imagine the son of a duke showing interest in a penniless beauty, none of them noticed it.

Still giddy from their somewhat risqué behavior, the other young people were quite merry during dinner. And even Mr. and Mrs. Smithson were joining in the laughter by the time the last bit of dessert had been consumed.

Though he tried to catch Amelia’s eye to ensure that she was none the worse for their encounter in the greenhouse, Quentin found her resistant to his glances, and when the ladies left the gentlemen to their port, she left the dining room with her arm tucked into Harriet’s and not a backward glance his way.

“You look like a man with something on his mind,” Mr. Wilkes said to Quentin as he clipped the end of his cigar. “Don’t think I didn’t see the way your eyes skimmed over the enticing Miss Snowe, old fellow. Though I hope you won’t box my ears for it.”

Cursing inwardly, Quentin maintained his composure. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, Wilkes. I was merely ensuring that the lady was in good spirits.”

“Why should you care about her spirits?” Wilkes asked, his eyes skeptical. “She seems no more in danger of unhappiness than any of the rest of the party. Unless that was the reason you two disappeared during Sardines.”

Something of his annoyance must have shown in Quentin’s face, because Wilkes said smugly, “Aha! I knew there was something afoot. Do tell, Fortescue. I won’t tell anyone. Upon my honor.”

“Nothing is afoot. The lady simply retired to her room to change her slippers during the game. A blister, I believe. Nothing for you to get worked up about. I simply waited downstairs for her return rather than joining the rest of you for the game.”

The other man did not seem convinced, but he changed the subject, much to Quentin’s relief. When the ladies returned, he was not surprised to note that Amelia kept close to Harriet’s side, watching over the girl like a mother hen with her chick.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Mrs. Smithson said, taking a place in the center of the room. “Tonight we shall entertain ourselves with a bit of music and dancing.”

A small cheer rang out among the young ladies. Amelia, he was quick to notice, looked quite glum. As well she should, he thought with a flash of good cheer. She might be able to avoid him if they played another game, or simply chatted amongst themselves, but there were a finite number of ladies and gentlemen. The steps of the dance would bring them together at one point even if they didn’t partner one another.

“I shall play, shall I, Mrs. Smithson?” Amelia asked, already heading for the pianoforte as two footmen began rolling up the carpets.

But Amelia wasn’t going to get off that easily, Quentin was amused to note. Mrs. Smithson shook her head decisively. “Don’t be foolish, my dear Miss Snowe. Of course you shan’t play for us. I’ve recruited the governess, Miss Inglewood, from the nursery to play for us.”

A mousy-looking woman in a dull gray gown stepped forward and took the seat at the piano. “Indeed, Miss Snowe, I am quite happy to play so that you may join in the dancing. I suppose you must miss this sort of thing since you came to live with us in the country.”

Quentin lifted a hand up to hide his amusement as he watched Amelia desperately trying to school her features. “Yes, of course,” she said to the other woman, though it was clear to anyone who really knew Amelia that she was quite annoyed by the present turn of events. Then, as if she were calling forth some inner reserve of fortitude, she squared her shoulders and turned to Harriet. “What fun this will be, won’t it, Harriet?” she asked her charge as Mr. Carstairs approached them.

“I believe the first set is forming, Miss Smithson,” the elegant young man said, bowing slightly before them. “Would you do me the honor of letting me lead you out?”

At Harriet’s questioning glance, Amelia nodded firmly. “What pretty manners you have, Mr. Carstairs,” she said with a smile. “Do go, Harriet, or I shall be tempted to steal him away from you.”

Though it was quite within the realm of possibility that Amelia could steal away her charge’s suitor, Harriet and Carstairs seemed to know she was teasing. With a slight shrug, Harriet extended her hand to Carstairs and allowed him to lead her away.

Seizing his chance, Quentin stepped into the spot vacated by the girl and said, “Are you not afraid sometimes that one day one of these young men will take you seriously?”

“Hardly,” Amelia said, not letting her eyes drift away from the other side of the room where the younger couple had linked hands in preparation for the dance. “Harriet knows she is safe from me. And goodness knows I’ve depressed all advances from the men who were invited to this house party. Or, almost all,” she amended, darting her eyes to look at him without turning her head. “But they will learn soon enough. They were invited here for Harriet’s sake, not mine.”

He knew that last was meant to dissuade him, but Quentin had always been up for a challenge. Especially one from a pretty girl.

“I was hoping that you’d dance this first set with me,” he said. “Though it would appear that we’ve missed our chance.” And indeed, the four couples gathered in the center of the room had begun to perform the steps of a country dance while the governess at the piano banged out a merry tune.

“You have no business dancing with me, my lord,” she said quietly. “I am merely Harriet’s companion.”

“That’s not what you said earlier in the greenhouse,” he said softly. To his pleasure, she gave what he suspected was an involuntary shiver and a hectic blush rose in her cheeks.

“A gentleman would not remind me of such an occurrence,” she said in an undertone.

“This gentleman would,” he returned. “Especially if this lady continues to pretend like nothing lies between us.”

“Whether something lies between us or not is beside the point,” Amelia hissed. “It was wrong of me to indulge you in such a manner and from now on I intend to walk the straight and narrow.”

“Do you indeed?” he wondered aloud. “I somehow find that difficult to believe given just how … heated … your response was to me earlier.”

“Will you…” she said in a harassed voice, before realizing that they might be overheard. Lowering her voice, she continued. “Stop saying things to be provoking. I told you it was a mistake and you should accept my pronouncement.”

“Should I?” he asked idly, never turning to look at her during the exchange. “Perhaps you have forgotten how things work in the upper echelons of society, Miss Snowe,” he said companionably. “The middle classes, like the Smithsons, are quite rigid, I think, when it comes to their behavior. A girl like Harriet could not get away with nearly the amount of mischief that a young lady of title might.”

“I believe that is the case, yes,” Amelia agreed. “And since I am not a young lady of title, I believe that pertains to me as well.”

“Perhaps,” Quentin said. “But then again, since you have spent the past several years mixing with the beau monde, I think that you can get away with a bit of mischief.”

“Is there a point to all of this?” Amelia wondered aloud. “For I must admit that I begin to bore of the subject.”

“Of course, my dear Miss Snowe,” he said quickly. “I had forgotten just how impatient you can be.”

At the growl of frustration she gave, he smothered a laugh with a quick cough. “I only meant to say that I think you are due a bit of scandal. On your own behalf, that is. Not the sort where you do something cruel and are held in contempt for it.”

She must have been surprised for she turned to him and said, “I have created enough of that sort of scandal to last a lifetime, thank you. I do not need any more.”

He caught a flash of misery in her eyes before she shuttered the expression and turned her gaze once more to the dance floor.

“You have paid the price for your past behavior, Amelia,” he said quietly.

“No, I haven’t,” she said with a brittle laugh. “I have been forgiven by the injured parties, but that doesn’t mean that I have paid with the sort of humiliation I inflicted upon my victims.”

He said nothing, giving her the space she needed to tell the story.

“I was dreadful, Quentin,” she said, and he could not help a jolt of pleasure at hearing his name on her lips, no matter what subject she was speaking of. “I openly mocked a young lady because of an infirmity she could no more control than I could control who my parents were. I made all three of the Featherstone cousins’ lives difficult for as long as I possibly could.”

“But you did apologize for it, did you not?” he asked, feeling the need to point out her change of heart, even if she didn’t acknowledge it to be as significant as her sins. “That must count for something.”

She shook her head, her expression bleak in juxtaposition to the merry tune and laughing dancers flying past them. “I finally came to my senses, if that’s what you mean. I know now that I was so cruel because I was in pain myself, but that doesn’t take away the fact that I did it. And I can never forget it.”

She turned and looked him fully in the face. “I have not been a very nice person, Quentin. And if you have any sense at all, you will take this chance to wash your hands of me now while you still have a chance.”

“But what if I admire the fact that you’ve managed to mend your ways?” he asked seriously. “Because I do. I admire the way you have molded yourself into someone better than you once were. I admire the fact that you had the courage to own your sins to the people you sinned against. And I admire the way you have dedicated yourself to atoning for your sins. Even if I think you do yourself a disservice by prolonging your own punishment.”

For a moment he thought that she would give in to the tears gathering in her eyes. But she drew strength from some inner core and blinked away the moisture. “Your faith in me does not go unappreciated,” she said quietly. “Even if I think you are too quick to forgive me.”