Her aunt raised one brow but said nothing more. A few minutes later Geoffrey was announced.
Elizabeth rose immediately and went to him. “Good evening.”
Taking her fingers in his hands he raised first one then the other, placing light kisses on them. “Are you all right?”
“It is just that the room is warm,” she said loud enough for her aunt to hear. When Aunt began to draw on her gloves, Elizabeth whispered, “I cannot stop thinking about your bed.”
He seemed surprised at first, but soon his eyes began to sparkle. “I think I know the reason. We can discuss it when we find some time to be alone. I believe Lady Bristow is ready to leave.”
However, when they arrived at the ball, so many people stopped to congratulate them on their betrothal, they could barely make it into the ballroom before the dancing began.
Slowly, as if each knew what the other wanted, Geoffrey and Elizabeth began making their way toward the French windows. They lost her aunt somewhere between the potted plants and the orchestra. And when the second dance began, he whisked her out through the French windows and onto the stone terrace.
“I thought we would never be able to escape.” She smiled up at him.
“I’m shocked there are so many people left in Town.” He wrapped his arm around her waist. “This way.”
Instead of going to the far side of the terrace, he led them down the steps and into the small garden. Tall posts with lanterns hanging from them marked the paths.
Geoffrey turned off the main path to another.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.” He drew her closer to him, his arm tightening around her waist. The light grew dimmer, but the scent of night-blooming jasmine and night-blooming nicotiana filled the air. “There is a night garden, or at least that is what I think it’s called. Back here.”
A few moments later, they entered a small circular garden with a fountain in the middle and a bench to one side. Flowers of various sizes, all of them white, reached for the moon. “I’ve never seen anything like this. How did you know about it?”
“Lady Haverstock is a friend of my mother’s and described the garden when she visited earlier in the year. I hoped you would like it.”
Elizabeth gazed up at him. Although the garden seemed alight, his face was still in the shadows. “And I do. Vastly. Thank you for bringing me here.”
He placed his handkerchief on the bench. “It is the only place I could think of where we could be alone for a while.”
She lowered herself onto the seat, being careful to sit on the handkerchief and not the stone. Geoffrey took the place next to her. They were so close one would not have been able to put a piece of paper between them.
He twined one of her curls around his index finger. “You were bothered about the cover and hangings on my bed. Shall I have them changed?”
Elizabeth leaned against him, reveling in the comfort of his large, strong body. “Not bothered, but . . . I do not know how to explain it. I could not stop thinking of it, and the more I thought of it the more my skin began to heat.” She hid her face in her hands. “I know I sound silly.”
“Not at all.” As he stroked her back, he pressed his fingers along her spine, and she wanted to melt into a puddle. “Could it be that you were imagining what will happen in that bed? Or has no one told you?”
“Lady Merton”—suddenly Elizabeth’s mouth went dry again—“told me some of what to expect.”
He shifted so that he was facing her, and placed both hands on her waist. His voice hardened. “Did she upset you?”
“No, no, nothing like that. She said that it was very enjoyable with the right man.” Elizabeth tried to search his eyes, but it was too dark.
“Never doubt that I am the right man, the only man for you.” Geoffrey claimed her lips, and she opened for him, tangling her tongue with his.
Tilting his head, he deepened the kiss, and she moaned. The sound came from somewhere deep inside her. Her bodice sagged; then his fingers eased her breasts from her stays. He cupped them, languidly caressing one while he took the other one into his mouth. Flames licked her skin. She held his head to her, wishing he could kiss her lips and her breasts at the same time.
Elizabeth felt as if she would combust if something did not ease the tension in that place between her legs. The throbbing grew worse, and no matter how much she wiggled, she couldn’t get comfortable.
“What is it?” Geoffrey’s voice was deep and seductive against her neck. “Don’t be afraid or embarrassed. You can tell me, ask me anything. I am here for you.”
Elizabeth’s face was burning, but if she could not tell the man she would marry, then whom could she tell? “Between my legs. That place . . .”
“Ah, I understand. Allow me to make you more comfortable.” He lifted her onto his lap. “There is no need to be embarrassed.”
