A Dash of Scandal

Nineteen

“Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more.” There is still time to catch one of the Terrible Threesome before the Season draws to a close.—Lord Truefitt, Society’s Daily Column
Millicent looked up into Chandler’s eyes and smiled at him. She loved him. Loved him madly. There was no doubt of that and not a trace of regret for what she had just instigated. She had no fear that she would ever want another man the way she wanted Chandler.

He was still inside her. They lay half on the settee and half off. Chandler propped himself up by one elbow on the settee arm and the other on the back of it. She felt his weight, his strength, and his warmth, and she had never been so complete or so contented.

With a curious expression he looked down at her and said, “You’re smiling.”

“That surprises you?”

“Yes. I’m wondering why you’re not angry with me.”

She stirred a little so she could see his eyes better. “Why would I be upset for getting what I wanted?”

“This isn’t why I brought you here, Millicent. I never imagined we’d end up like this. I didn’t plan it.”

“I know. I wanted this to happen. It’s what I planned,” she said as if it was the most natural thing in the world for her to admit this to him.

He returned her smile. “I’ve never had a lady pursue me quite like you did tonight.”

“You’ve never had reason to. You’ve always been the one in pursuit.”

“I fear I didn’t know what I was missing or surely I would have been much easier to catch.”

She laughed softly as she looked up into his handsome face. “Well then, you should thank me for awakening you to such wonderful delights.”

His long, dark lashes hooded his eyes attractively. He said, “Indeed, Miss Blair. Thank you.”

“Would what we just shared have been different if you had planned it?” she asked.

He nuzzled her hair a little and kissed her cheek. “A little perhaps.”

“In what way?”

“More words, more caresses, more time.”

She smiled at him. “A bed?”

He groaned and adjusted his arms, which were holding up most of his weight. “Most assuredly a bed.”

“Would all those things have made what we shared better?”

His gaze locked on hers instantly, piercing her. “It was the best for me. Nothing could have made it better.”

Millicent’s heart grew in her chest and she smiled again. He couldn’t have said anything that would have pleased her more. “Thank you for saying that.”

“I mean it, Millicent. It’s never been so good for me before.”

She nodded and reached up, letting her fingertips lightly caress his beard-stubbled cheek. She wished she could stay here with him for the rest of the night, the day, forever, but knew that wasn’t possible.

“I have to go.”

“I know. Don’t worry, I’ll have you home before dawn. I promise.”

He thought she was talking about tonight, but she meant she would be going home to Nottinghamshire soon and would never see him again. She would be saying good-bye, not good night. That thought wrenched her heart.

Chandler lifted himself from her and pulled up his breeches with one hand as he rose and pushed down Millicent’s dress with the other. In one fluid, sweeping motion he hooked one arm under her knees and the other around her shoulders and lifted her into his arms as if she were weightless.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I’m going to make love to you the right way now.”

“Why? Did we do it wrong the first time?” she asked, a bit confused.

He carried her over to a thick, sable-colored fur rug that lay on the floor in front of the unlit fireplace.

“It wasn’t that it was wrong,” he said, kneeling down and gently placing her on the rug. “God no. It was impatient and a bit self-indulgent on my part. I know what we did on that settee was a damn sight more pleasurable for me than for you. I want it to be good for you.”

The pliant pelt cushioned her comfortably and felt deliciously soft. Pale yellow light from the lamp cast a golden glow around the room. It was quiet, not even the sound of a clock to disturb the magic of the evening, the thrill of lying half dressed on the floor with Chandler.

Chandler sat down beside her and pulled his shirt off his head, then threw it aside. Her breaths quickened at the sight of his strong chest with firm, rippled muscles filling out his skin. She saw a dark patch of hair low on his stomach where the waistband of his trousers parted invitingly. Her abdomen quivered with anticipation.

She raised up to a sitting position and touched his knee. “I was not disappointed, Chandler. I thought what we did was wonderful.”

He reached over and covered her mouth in a brief but deep, tongue-thrusting kiss. “Then wait until you find out what comes next.”

“There’s more than what we did?” she asked, relaxing a little.

“Yes. And I’m going to take my time and make love to you properly. The way you deserve to be loved.”

He untied his evening shoes and took them off, then rose up on his knees. He turned to her and removed her drawers where they hung on one foot. Chandler reached for the hem of her dress, which rested mid-thigh, but stopped as he looked at her clothing. Her high-waisted dress hung off her shoulders, showing a prim-looking stays.

“But not as much time as I would like. I want to undress you layer by layer, kissing you with each garment I take off, but completely undressing you tonight would take longer than we have.”

Chandler slid his breeches down his legs and kicked them aside. He was nude. Beautifully nude. Her heart lurched with love, with wanting. She felt hot and eager when he reached over and gathered her into his arms. His bare skin brushed hers and she tingled, relaxed and melted into his arms, giving herself up to Chandler.

He gently laid her into the softness of the rug and stretched his warm body beside her. He rose on his elbow and slowly inched the skirt of her dress and chemise up to her waist again. He looked into her eyes for a long moment before his gaze drifted down her face, lingered over her breasts, before going on to the junction of her thighs, and looking down the length of her legs.

“I love the way you look, the way you’re shaped, and the richness of your satiny skin,” he whispered huskily. “You’re beautiful, perfect.”

Millicent felt hot, flushed, urgent as his gaze continued to roam freely over her.

With an open palm, Chandler cupped her cheek, caressed it. He slid his hand down her neck, over her chest and shoulders with a gliding touch of his fingertips that thrilled her. He let his open palm drift over to her breasts. He lifted first one and then the other, gently squeezing their fullness, feeling their weight, seeming to memorize their shape.

Millicent closed her eyes and savored his gentle touch. She was sensitive to his every move, his every breath. He rubbed each nipple between his thumb and forefinger until she thought she would explode with sweeping, ecstatic sensations that she had never felt before.

She didn’t want him to stop, ever, but he moved his hand down to the curve of her waist, over her hip to let his hand rest possessively low on her abdomen. When his hand slipped farther she jerked with surprise, with pleasure. His fingers were still for a moment, letting her get used to the touch of his hand so intimately on her before starting a gentle, slow stroking with his fingers.

Millicent moaned from somewhere deep inside herself but could form no real words. All she knew was that she wanted more and more of what he was doing.

“I love the way you feel,” he whispered. “Silky, warm, moist. Beautiful.”

Chandler continued to stroke her up and down in her most womanly place as he bent his head and lightly rubbed her cheek with his nose, then he moved on to her chin, down the sweep of her neck, before snuggling his face into the velvety skin at the curve of her shoulder. He breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly, loudly.

“I love the fresh, womanly scent of you,” he whispered and inhaled deeply once again.

Millicent felt as if she was about to go over the edge of something and she couldn’t stop herself. Without conscious thought, she moved her lower body in rhythm with the motion of his fingers.

Chandler started with her eyes and kissed his way down her cheeks to her lips. She opened her mouth wanting to taste more of him, wanting to be a part of him again. He lingered over her mouth, kissing her, letting his tongue play with hers, occasionally nipping her bottom lip between his teeth.

Slowly he moved to her breasts and covered each rosy peak with his mouth and suckled first one and then the other and back again. Millicent was pliant and dazed with an indescribable pleasure that kept mounting low in her abdomen. All these things he did were so new to her she could hardly catch her breath or stop the contractions of wanting that wracked her muscles.

“I love the way you taste,” he murmured against the swell of her breasts. With his tongue he sampled her heated skin. “I can’t get enough of you.”

Millicent entwined her arms around his neck and pressed her body closer to his. His touch, his words were delicious, but she knew she needed—wanted—more. She ached to feel him inside her again.

Breathlessly she said, “I feel the same way, Lord Dunraven. I fear you are teasing me.”

“Teasing you?” he questioned between brief kisses that made her body rise up and meet his hand. “I thought I was loving you with words and caresses.”

“I don’t think I can take many more of your words and caresses. I feel like I’m going to explode if you don’t thoroughly kiss me and—” She stopped. And what?

“And fill you?” he finished for her.

She knew he expected her to want the treasured touches and sweet words and, as a lady, she should have been satisfied with that, but she wanted more. She wanted Chandler inside her, filling her, taking her. She didn’t want the gentleman. She wanted Chandler the man, big and powerful, making her his as he had on the settee.

“Yes, yes, my lord, fill me.”

Suddenly Millicent gasped and arched into his hand with a jerking motion. She buried her face into his shoulder as waves of explosive sensations tore through her with gripping speed before fading into pleasant ripples.

“Chandler.” She whispered his name softly before collapsing back down onto the rug with no breath left in her lungs, no strength in her muscles.

Without giving her time to catch her breath, Chandler settled his body over the length of her as his mouth covered hers. His lips were moist, hot, and demanding as he kissed her deeply, roughly, crushing her body and her lips beneath his. Millicent loved his aggressiveness, welcomed it. She matched him kiss for kiss, touch for touch, breath for breath.

She parted her legs and he pushed inside her. Millicent arched to meet him, taking all of him at once, deeply. She heard his breath quicken, felt him tremble, and she gloried that she could please him in this way. She joined the hungry rhythm he determined with his body moving in and out of her with long, sure strokes that grew stronger, sharper with delicious sensations until she stopped and cried out, breathless with exquisite pleasure once again.

Chandler covered her mouth with his in a bruising kiss that absorbed her cry of pleasure as he pumped powerfully into her. He slid his arms under her back and cupped her to him as her body shuddered with quivering muscles.

He continued to move a moment or two longer before he stopped deep inside her and shakily whispered, “Oh, Millicent, you are too wonderful, too beautiful, too exciting.”

“And so are you,” she answered and snuggled her nose into the warmth of his neck.

He lay hot and heavy upon her. Her hands made a slow trail over his back, down to his buttocks and up to his shoulders again. She wanted to hold him forever in this moment.

Chandler raised his head and gave her that knowing grin she had come to love.

He said, “Wasn’t that better than before?”

“Oh, my, yes! I can’t explain it, but I felt such extraordinary feelings. What happened?”

“You just experienced what’s called the climax of lovemaking.”

“It’s really quite breathtaking, isn’t it?”

“It stole mine. I don’t think I’ve ever felt quite so satisfied.”

“Mmm. That’s a good way to describe it. I feel completely contented, too.”

He chuckled low in his chest. “So do I.”

Millicent sighed, wanting to enjoy a few minutes more in Chandler’s arms before she returned to thoughts of what must be done, but she knew the hour was late. She didn’t want to think about going home to her aunt’s or to Nottinghamshire. She didn’t want to think about never experiencing again this wonderful part of life with Chandler, but she must. Now that their lovemaking was over, the sooner she got on with her life, the sooner she would get over missing Chandler.

She stirred beneath him. “I don’t want this to end, but I have to get home. Lady Beatrice will have Phillips out looking for me.”

Chandler rose on his elbow and glanced at the window before looking down into her eyes. “Yes, dawn is on the rise.” He paused. “Millicent, we need to talk before you go.”

She stiffened. She didn’t want to hear it. She knew what he wanted to say, and suddenly it angered her that he wanted to rain what had been the most soul-shattering experience of her ruin. She shoved his chest, and he rolled away. As she rose from the rag, she pushed down her dress and reached for her underclothes.

“You need not say anything, Lord Dunraven. In fact, I think it would be better if we didn’t discuss at all what just happened between us.”

“Wait a minute,” he said with a queer expression on his face. “What do you mean? We have to talk about it.”

She looked down at him. “No, we don’t. I know what you’re thinking. You believe I orchestrated this so you would feel obliged to offer to marry me, don’t you? Well, sir, set your mind to rest. I did not. This was no ploy to ensnare you in a parson’s mousetrap.”

Chandler sat on the rag, his arms on his knees and looked up at her, clearly stunned. “That’s not what I was thinking.”

“Good. I wasn’t looking to be your wife before this happened and I’m not expecting it now. You need not worry that I will demand your hand in marriage when dawn turns to day.”

Frowning, he shook his head and said, “I didn’t expect you to demand anything.”

“I’m glad we’re clear on that.” She stepped into her drawers and pulled them up.

“No.” While still seated, Chandler grabbed his breeches and shoved his legs into them one leg at a time. “You are not clear on anything, Miss Blair.”

“I beg your pardon, sir?” she said in a huff of breath as she tied the waistband of her drawers.

“Damnation, Millicent, you make it sound like you came in here and took advantage of me, and I had no say in what happened between us.”

“Yes, that’s exactly right.”

He glared at her with an incredulous expression on his face. “No, that isn’t right.”

“What we just shared was all my doing, sir. I asked you to make love to me, remember?”

Chandler picked up one of his shoes and rose from the rug. “You can’t take credit for that. And don’t pretend you had to twist my arm to get me to agree. I’ve been wanting to make love to you since I first saw you. When I didn’t even know your name, I wanted you.”

“I don’t remember you ever mentioning anything of the sort to me.”

“A gentleman wouldn’t come right out and tell a lady he wanted to make love to her.”

She pulled the capped sleeves of her dress back onto her shoulders and straightened the front of her gown over her corset. “A gentleman you say? You have behaved like a rake from the moment we met.”

“No, not in all things. I keep telling you I do know how to be a gentleman at times, and not telling you that I wanted to take you to my bed was one of those times. Furthermore, it just so happens I want to marry you.”

Millicent stopped fiddling with her sleeves and looked up at him. Her worst fear had come true. He felt guilt over what they had done.

Her heart pounded slow, hard, and sure. Chandler was a gentleman after all. If only he had said that before tonight things would have been so different.

She couldn’t bear him thinking she had planned tonight just to force him to propose. That thought chilled her.

“You don’t know what you are saying,” she managed in a hoarse whisper.

“Of course I do.”

“Tell me truthfully, if we hadn’t just made love would you be proposing to me right now?”

Chandler hesitated for a second too long and that told her all she needed to know long before he said, “Truthfully? Right this moment? No.”

Millicent let out a shaky breath. “That’s what I thought. My point is proven.”

“You have no case to prove. I only meant I would have asked for your hand in the proper manner, soliciting your guardian first.”

“You can’t want to marry me. You don’t even know me,” she whispered.

He looked pointedly, knowingly into Millicent’s eyes. Very quietly he said, “I know every inch of you, my dear.”

“Oh! How dare you be so crass about—” She stopped.

“Making love to you?” he asked with a frown settled deep between his eyes as he hopped on one foot while trying to get his bare foot into his other shoe.

“You’re hopeless.” Millicent looked around for her gloves. Chandler was being deliberately obtuse. “I meant that you don’t know anything about my family or the true reason I’m in London.”

He stopped trying to step into his shoe and just held it. “That’s right, because you have seen fit to deny me that important bit of information even though I have asked about it more than once.”

She reached down and picked up one of her gloves, then looked back at Chandler. She opened her mouth to tell him the whole story of her mother’s debacle in London’s Society and her aunt’s double life as Lord Truefitt, but she stopped. If Chandler knew, would it make him love her? Would it make him forget she had spied on his peers and written for the scandal sheets? If none of that would change, then why expose her aunt to ruination?

“I can’t tell you because it involves someone else. There’s too much at stake.”

“What? Why, if no one is forcing you to do this gossip column? Did you lie to me when you said you weren’t doing it for the money?”

“No, no. I haven’t lied to you.”

“Trust me with what you know. Trust me with what you are doing. You can trust me, Millicent.”

Millicent looked at Chandler, with his chest bare, his breeches unfastened, and only one shoe on. Oh yes, she loved him with all her heart. She wanted to confide in him. And her heart would be overjoyed if she knew he wanted to marry her because he felt for her what she was feeling for him.

When her gaze met his, she knew she had to leave immediately. If not she would give in to his demands and tell him everything. “Don’t ruin what just happened between us, Chandler. I want nothing more from you than the sweet memory of being in your arms tonight.”

She turned and rushed out of the room.

“Millicent, come back.”

She heard him call her name, then a sound like he had stumbled over something and tripped. She didn’t stop to find out. She ran to the front door and slung it open. She dashed out into the night, running as fast as she could to the coach that was waiting.

The driver jumped down and opened the door for her. She gave him her address and as she climbed inside said, “Don’t stop for Lord Dunraven. I must get away.”

As the coach pulled away she looked out the window. Chandler was running down the street after them, his shirt in one hand and a shoe in the other.