Beguiling the Earl Read online

  She couldn’t play the coquette, pretending an indifference she didn’t feel as Charlotte had advised. Or rather, she didn’t want to. And so she’d decided she must approach him directly. She was weary of waiting to catch a few glimpses of him every evening only to be disappointed when he didn’t show. And when he did, he was still careful to avoid her.

  Just that morning she never would have imagined herself brave enough to confront him in this way, but she could no longer bear the uncertainty. Her mind swam with questions that demanded answers. She risked outright rejection, but she had to know how he felt. And to learn the truth, she needed to speak to him alone when no one would interrupt them.

  She’d overheard Kerrick telling Nicholas that he planned to go to his club after the musicale, and so she’d sent her maid—after giving her a very hefty bonus so she wouldn’t reveal what Catherine was doing—to keep watch over Kerrick’s house. She hadn’t been certain if the young woman would do as she’d asked or report her actions to the housekeeper. But Catherine had taken the risk, knowing Lily was sending most of her regular pay back to her family to help support them. Fortunately, her gamble had paid off.

  When she arrived to take over the watch, Lily told her that Lord Kerrick had been at home when she’d arrived but had left again shortly afterward and had not yet returned. Lily was reluctant to leave her side, but Catherine had promised her another bonus. The fact that she agreed was testament to how much Kerrick was liked. If Catherine had been visiting any other man, she doubted any amount of money would have sufficed to pry her maid from her side.

  An hour passed and she started to regret the impulsive decision that had led her out of the house on that warm spring night. The night was still and dark, the only sounds those of the occasional horse and carriage on a not-too-distant street.

  She heard footsteps before she saw the figure of a man making his way down the street. It was too dark to tell if it was Kerrick, so she waited, pressed up against the sturdy trunk of the tree, her heartbeat an echo in her ears.

  The precariousness of her situation hadn’t occurred to her until that moment. Despite the shadow of the tree and the dark cloak that obscured her, she would be seen if he continued past Kerrick’s house and glanced in her direction. She should have taken greater care in choosing a hiding spot, but it was now too late.

  Her heartbeat quickened, then leapt when the man turned and started up the steps of Kerrick’s town house.

  “Kerrick,” she called, stepping out from the shadow of the tree.

  Her voice hadn’t been more than an exhalation, but he heard it. His head snapped around and his gaze fell on her. He shook his head in disbelief.

  “Tell me I’m losing my mind and that you’re not actually standing there.”

  Something in his expression told her that she hadn’t made a mistake.

  She pushed back the hood of her cloak. “You’re not losing your mind.”

  He looked up and down the street, then jerked his head toward the side of the house. She met him there by a side door, concealed in the shadows between his house and his neighbor’s. He didn’t speak again as he unlocked the door and led her inside. The room they entered was unlit, and it took her a few moments to realize they were in the kitchen.

  He took hold of her hand and awareness swept through her when she realized that, like her, he wasn’t wearing gloves. She remained silent as she followed him up a small staircase and down a short corridor. He led her into another dark room and closed the door firmly behind them before releasing her and stepping away. She heard the sound of a match, followed by the sudden flicker of flame as he bent to light a lamp. She saw then that they were in his study.

  The tension in the room, already heavy with what lay unspoken between them, only increased when he straightened and turned to face her. She’d hoped he would admit that he was pleased to see her, but the expression on his face told her he wouldn’t make such an admission easily. A muscle flexed along his jaw as he held her with his gaze for several seconds.

  “What were you thinking coming here, on your own, at”—his gaze swept to the clock on his desk before returning to hers—“at two in the morning. What if someone had seen you? Your reputation would be in tatters.” He shook his head and gave a dry, humorless laugh. “Beyond that, being alone on the streets in the middle of the night is not a safe place for any woman. But one as beautiful as you…”

  She went to him then, wanting only to ease his worry. She reached to take hold of his hands but froze when he stepped back to avoid her touch. Her arms dropped to her sides.

  “It wasn’t far and I took great care not to be seen.”

  His mouth firmed in a solid line and he seemed to struggle for words. It occurred to her that he didn’t want to ask her why she’d come. Well, if he hoped to avoid the subject of what was between them, she was not going to allow that to happen.

  “You haven’t asked me why I was waiting for you.”

  “I have no notion what could have happened that couldn’t have waited for the morrow.”

  She sighed, exasperated with his stubborn refusal to acknowledge the obvious. “I believe you know precisely why I am here.” When he said nothing, she asked, “Are you courting Rose Hardwick?”

  He looked pointedly at the clock again before answering, but she recognized the action for the delaying tactic that it was.

  “Surely you’re not here at this hour to satisfy your curiosity about the latest on-dit.”

  “You didn’t answer the question.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Lady Worthington is a close personal friend to my mother. It is not an acquaintance I can avoid.”

  She wanted to shake him. “What does that mean? That you’re merely being friendly? That there’s an understanding between your two families about you and Rose?”

  He shook his head. “No, there is no such understanding. Regardless of what the Worthingtons choose to believe.”

  “Do you want there to be one?” She forced the question out, not sure she wanted to know the answer anymore.

  He was silent a moment before he answered. “No. I do not.”

  Hope threatened to steal her breath. “Because you care for me.” She ignored him when he shook his head again. “You kissed me that night at Almack’s. Why would you do that if you didn’t care for me even a little?”

  He couldn’t meet her eyes. “If you’ll wait here, I’ll arrange for a carriage to take you home.”

  She believed him when he said that he didn’t wish to be with Rose Hardwick, but it was clear he was still resisting their own connection. She’d felt the evidence of his desire for her that evening at Almack’s when he’d kissed her. Beyond that, he wasn’t the type of man to lead her astray. If he didn’t care for her, he would have no difficulty telling her so.

  Something was holding him back, but she suffered from no such qualms. What remained was to show him how she felt.

  She untied the ribbon holding her cloak closed and turned to drape the garment over a chair. When she faced him again, she didn’t miss the fact that his eyes had been trained on her figure. The pale green gown she wore was modest, and for a moment she wished she’d changed into one of her evening dresses with a lower décolletage. Kerrick didn’t seem to mind, and the appreciation in his gaze gave her the courage to speak.

  “I’m not returning home. Not yet. Perhaps later, after we’ve…” She let her voice trail off, not quite brave enough to say the words, but from his expression it was clear she didn’t need to.

  When he replied, his voice was filled with regret. “This isn’t going to happen, Catherine. It can’t.”

  She took another step forward, her spirits rising when he didn’t back away from her. “I think we both know that isn’t true.”

  His eyes searched her face and she could see that he was very close, finally, to accepting what had always been inevitable.

  “I’m supposed to keep you safe, not ruin you.”

  She shook her head and to
ok the final step that removed the distance between them. They were so close now she could feel the heat of his body reaching out to her. Beckoning to her. “I don’t care about that. I only care about being with you.”

  In an attempt to keep some distance between them, he raised his hands to her arms. The heat of his fingers on her bare skin had an almost dizzying effect on her.

  “You should care, Catherine. I want…” A spasm of emotion crossed his face. “You know what I want, but until I am free, I am in no position to make promises.”

  “I am not asking you to make promises.”

  His eyes squeezed closed as though he were in pain. “We can’t do this.”

  Instead of gripping her arms tightly to keep her away, his fingers relaxed and his thumbs made little circles on her skin where he held her just above her elbows. Despite his words to the contrary, his resolve was weakening. She moved closer to him. He resisted for only a moment, and then his grip slackened. Taking advantage of his moment of weakness, she raised her arms to clasp his shoulders and pressed herself against his hard chest, rejoicing when his breath shuddered.

  “Kerrick.”

  He must have heard her need, because his eyes snapped open. Heat blazed in their depths, almost searing her with their intensity.

  “I want this,” she said.

  “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

  “I know exactly what I’m asking. I also know that whatever happens, I will have no regrets, even if we can only have this one night together.”

  This time there was no hesitation when he released her arms and drew her more firmly against him. He lowered his head and took her mouth with a desperation that threatened to steal her breath. A corresponding need rose swiftly within her.

  She was actually going to make love to the man she couldn’t imagine being without. She’d told him she didn’t need the promise of a future together to be with him tonight, and she’d meant those words. That didn’t mean she’d stop hoping for more. But for now, this would be enough.

  Her tongue warred with his as she wove her fingers into his hair. She was afraid to let go lest this turn out to be only a dream. When he pulled back, she started to protest.

  “Shhh.” He laid a finger over her lips to forestall her argument.

  Mere inches separated them, and she could still feel the warmth of his breath on her face. Acting purely on instinct, she clasped his hand between hers and drew his finger into her mouth, circling it with her tongue and drawing on it. His eyes darkened with approval.

  “You’re the very devil,” he said, removing his finger and running it over her now-sensitized mouth. “A temptress sent to lead me into the flames of hell. But it would take more strength than I possess to stop now. You do not, however, deserve to be deflowered on the floor of my study.”

  He took her hand again, this time leading her down the darkened corridor to the main stairs. She was relieved when they reached his bedroom without encountering any of the household staff. It had taken all her nerve tonight to come, alone, to his home, and she didn’t think she had any bravery left for knowing glances and whispered words belowstairs.

  His bedroom was a reflection of him. Dark, masculine. What surprised her most, however, was the lavender orchid in a small vase on his night table. Was that a coincidence, or had he remembered her telling Mr. Clifton how much she loved orchids?

  He must have noticed the direction of her glance for he cleared his throat before saying, “I’ve always appreciated beauty.”

  His eyes were not on the flower, however, but on her. The compliment warmed her right down to her toes and chased away the last of her inhibitions. She turned to face him and placed a hand directly over his heart where she could feel its steady beat.

  She licked her lips before saying, “You must show me what to do.”

  He mirrored her action, placing his hand first over her upper chest before moving it lower. Instead of settling over her heart, however, he cupped one of her breasts in his large hand. She sucked in a breath, only to release it again with a surprised puff of air when his thumb moved over its peak. His other hand rose to do the same to her other breast, and pleasure speared through her.

  “To begin,” he said, his voice more rough than she had ever remembered, “we are wearing far too much clothing.”

  He spun her around and made quick work of the ties of her dress and the strings of her stays, his familiarity with women’s clothing further proof that he was much more experienced than she. Before stripping the clothing from her body, he took the time to remove the pins from her hair and spread his fingers through the heavy mass. She closed her eyes in bliss when he nuzzled her ear.

  When he drew her dress away from her body, allowing it to fall at her feet with a whisper of satin, and cast aside her corset, she was glad that she was facing away from him. Still wearing her chemise, she leaned back into him, craving his touch, and he complied by bringing his hands around and cupping her breasts yet again. He lowered his head to the side of her throat, and she shivered when his mouth settled on her skin.

  She tilted her head to the side to grant him further access.

  “Catherine, you undo me,” he said, his breath warm against her skin.

  She very much doubted he could feel more cast adrift than she at that moment. His hands moved to the neckline of her chemise, and when she realized that he planned to remove it, she covered his hands with hers to still his movement. She turned in his arms.

  “I am not the only one wearing too much clothing,” she said, aiming for a levity she was far from feeling.

  He took a step back and she could almost feel the caress of his eyes on her as his gaze roamed over her body.

  “I would never wish to disappoint you.”

  He made quick work of his cravat and the buttons of his waistcoat, and when he was done, Catherine stepped forward to draw his tailcoat from his shoulders. Mirroring his casual disregard for her own clothing, she dropped the garment to the floor before doing the same with his waistcoat.

  “You are a quick student,” he said, an edge to his voice.

  “I aim only to please,” she replied as she pulled his shirt from his trousers and burrowed her hands underneath the material so she could finally feel his skin.

  Remembering how it had felt when he’d teased her breasts, she trailed her fingers up his torso, dragging the lawn fabric of his shirt upward as she sought his nipples. She raked her nails over them gently and was rewarded by his harsh inhalation.

  He stripped his shirt over his head in one quick movement and threw it onto the floor. Without further preamble, he dragged down her chemise until her breasts were freed and then lowered his head to take one aching peak into his mouth. All thought deserted her. Afraid her knees would buckle at any moment, she could only cling to his shoulders as he suckled her. One hand toyed with her other breast while the other hand cupped her backside and shifted the lower half of her body until she was held firmly against him. His arousal pressed into her, but not where she ached for him between her legs, and she squirmed against him.

  He gripped her chemise where it rested at her waist, and she felt the first flare of alarm when he knelt before her. Her hands fluttered to his shoulders in uncertainty.

  “What are you doing?” She could not keep the quaver from her voice.

  He looked up at her, his normally vivid blue eyes now almost black. “I’m trying to make sure you enjoy this as much as I know I will.”

  “Kerrick, I—”

  But he ignored her protest and released his hold on her chemise. It pooled at her feet, and she stood before him in only her shoes and stockings. He made a low sound of approval before kissing her belly. She was still slightly alarmed by what he was doing, but that feeling turned to outright shock when he parted her legs and blew softly on her now-damp curls.

  Her legs started to buckle and he rose swiftly when she swayed forward. Before she knew what he was doing, he’d lifted her into his arms, carried her
to his large bed, and deposited her onto it. She knew enough about what happened between a man and a woman to expect him to remove his trousers and join her on the bed. Instead, he drew her legs apart and devoured her with his eyes.

  Embarrassed, she flung an arm over her eyes. She wouldn’t stop him, not now, but her bravery threatened to desert her at the almost unbearable intimacy of being laid open to his hungry gaze.

  Nothing happened for several moments.

  “Catherine?”

  This was Kerrick, the man she loved. She did not need to feel shy about him seeing her like this.

  She lifted her arm and looked at him where he stood between her open thighs, uncertainty etched on his face. His concern only served to make her feel young and foolish. Fearing she’d disappointed him and needing to get away from his unrelenting gaze, she rolled over onto her stomach and closed her eyes.

  The bed shifted under his weight as he lowered himself onto the bed beside her. His warm hand settled on the bare skin of her lower back, and when he spoke his voice was strained.

  “I’ll understand if you’ve reconsidered. I won’t be particularly pleased about it, but we can stop right now. You haven’t been fully compromised yet—”

  Needing him to stop talking, she surprised them both by turning and launching herself at him. He rolled onto his back and she settled over him, her slight frame supported by his much larger one.

  She made a soft sound in the back of her throat as she delighted in the feel of his skin against hers. She was aware of many sensations all at once: his heat seeping into her, her breasts crushed against his muscled chest, the sprinkling of hair abrading her nipples. He still wore his trousers, but there was no mistaking the hard ridge of his erection pressing into her thigh. And his scent… why had she never noticed how wonderful he smelled before now? She was almost light-headed from the onslaught of sensation.