He chuckled at that and Belle found she had nowhere else to go: the wall was at her back, and suddenly Lord Winterbourne filled her vision. He was so close that she could feel his breath upon her skin, was sure her body could sense the heat of his burning her through the flimsy silk of her gown.
“No, you are not,” he said, reaching out a hand and tracing the line of her jaw with one finger. “But you will find your way to my bed, nonetheless.”
She gasped at him, shaking her head, wondering why the words had flooded her body with a scalding heat when she ought to have slapped his face.
“I wasn’t going to go through with it. When you arrived, I was leaving,” she said, praying that he would believe her. “I swear it is the truth. I know it was low and despicable and ... oh, such a vile thing to do,” she said, her eyes filling with tears now. “Please, my lord. Let me go, and I promise you that I will never do such a thing again, no matter ... no matter how desperate we are.” Her voice trembled and she knew she would cry soon, but he said nothing. She stared into eyes that seemed too bright, almost febrile, and though she knew he wouldn’t listen, she had to try. “Please, Lord Winterbourne, have pity. I truly wasn’t going to go through with it, I swear to God.”
“I believe you,” he said and then ducked his head to press his mouth to hers.
For a moment, Belle was paralysed by the swiftness of it, by the surprising softness of his mouth, by the shocking intimacy of it. She gasped with what she hoped was outrage, but rather felt was something entirely different, and her shock was compounded as his tongue swept in, as though he would devour her.
His arms went around her, pulling her body hard against his, and all the air seemed to rush from her lungs as her softer shape moulded to his much larger, far harder form. Though she knew she ought to protest, his actions too closely resembled the heated dreams that had followed the sight of him stripped down to the waist. She had wanted to know how this would feel with an intensity that had made her restless, a stranger in her own skin. So now she would discover it for herself.
She reached up, putting her arms around his neck, one hand sliding into the warmth of his hair, and she was startled by how natural, how right it felt to be with him in this manner. She did not feel awkward or foolish or shy, or indeed anything of the things she had assumed she might feel during her first kiss. Though none of her imaginings had been quite so ... explicit.
Instead, she felt bold and brave and ... just lovely.
Cautiously she began to mimic his actions, the beguiling slide and tangle of tongue and lips, and was gratified when he groaned and pulled her closer still. One hand fell and cupped her behind, squeezing and forcing her against his hips. Belle wondered at the fact that she wasn’t horrified at being mauled in such a fashion, but rather she relished it. She pressed back against him with equal fervour, feeling the heat of him, the hardness of what she knew must be his arousal. At least she had her Aunt Grimble to thank for giving her the basic facts, though the woman had intended Belle to use them to seduce herself a husband or wealthy lover. Well, then, perhaps that was what she was doing, she thought with a touch of hysteria. A lover, at least. Perhaps if she was his lover, he would keep Crecy safe until she married, for as long as Belle could please him.
It was better than nothing, and certainly this experience was no hardship, so far. It wasn’t as if he would ever consider marrying her. At those words, Belle was paralysed with dread, as she realised that her aunt - and the world and his wife - were about to come through the library door.
She pushed at his chest, trying to get free, tearing her lips from his with reluctance.
“My lord,” she gasped. “You must leave, you must ...” But her mouth was taken in another searing kiss, and she could not speak again until he released her, trailing hot, open mouthed kisses down her neck in a manner that made her knees weak. “Lord Winterbourne, you have to stop,” she said, almost too breathless to form the words, not helping matters with the fact that she simply couldn’t stop touching him.
“Never,” he growled, one large hand reaching down and grasping hold of her thigh and lifting it, hooking her leg and pulling her against him in such an intimate manner that she could do nothing but moan. His lordship wasted no time in swallowing any further protest. Belle was helpless, her mind clouded by desire, by the taste of him, by the sheer overwhelming power of him. But the witnesses were coming and, oh God, it would be the most dreadful scandal. She pulled away from his kiss once again, facing the confusion in his eyes as she clearly didn’t want to stop any more than he did.
“They’re coming!” she said, begging him to understand, but it was too late. They froze as her aunt’s strident voice pierced the haze of their passion, and suddenly their intimate embrace was on view.
“Miss Holbrook!” exclaimed Lady Scranford, and Belle couldn’t tell if she was delighted by the scandal or furiously jealous that she hadn’t been able to arrange such a thing herself.
Belle jerked away from the embrace and could not bring herself to meet Lord Winterbourne’s eyes. He seemed frozen in place, too shocked to even move, one hand still resting at her waist in what she’d have liked to believe a protective gesture, if she hadn’t known that he was simply too stunned and horrified to move.
Unwillingly her eyes went to Violette, his sister, who had been so very kind. She could only imagine what she thought of her now. Oh God, and Lady Russell! Belle felt herself burn with shame.
“Oh, Edward!” Violette exclaimed, breaking the silence and suddenly rushing forwards with such an expression of happiness on her face that Belle was utterly bewildered. “Does this mean I may wish you happy? That Miss Holbrook has accepted your suit after all? I told you she would! Oh, Miss Holbrook, do tell me that you have accepted Edward’s offer and that we shall be sisters?” There was a look of fierce determination in Violette’s eyes as she stared at her and Belle realised that she was being offered a lifeline. His own sister would help her trap him into marriage. Only she couldn’t do it. If she couldn’t do it to Nibley, she certainly couldn’t do it to Lord Winterbourne. Not when ... when ...
“Edward?” Violette demanded, her voice holding a slightly hysterical edge, and looked like she would stamp her foot if someone didn’t answer her.
There was a silence that was so encompassing that Belle thought she might do something quite out of character and faint, and then the marquess said something so utterly extraordinary that it was a wonder that she didn’t.
“Yes.”
Belle’s eyes snapped to his, but the man was looking at his sister with an expression she simply couldn’t read.
“Oh, Edward!” Violette cried, throwing her arms around first him and then Belle.
“Well done!” she whispered in Belle’s ear, grinning so broadly that Belle was shocked to discover that his sister truly was pleased.
What on earth was going on?
Chapter 14
“Wherein the world keeps spinning ... faster, and faster.”