Page 41 of One Waltz with the Viscount

Their lips met and he kissed her deeply, feeling the pent-up passion of the last few days come flooding out. She tasted sweet and her mouth was soft and inviting underneath his. For a moment he forgot all the reasons they were supposed to be keeping apart, forgot his resolve to disregard his own wants and desires, forgot he had promised himself again and again that he would think rationally about all matters of the heart. For a moment he allowed himself to pretend the world consisted just of him and Miss Shepherd. There were no sisters to think about, no families to consider, no meddlesome friends.

She let out a little moan and he was lost completely. He moved closer, narrowing the gap between them until their bodies were pressed together, held by the tiny confines of the carriage. As she arched her back, he trailed kisses down her neck, pausing at the little notch at the bottom of her throat. He’d never considered anyone’s collarbones before, but right now Miss Shepherd’s seemed exquisite.

She gasped as he dipped his head lower, kissing the tops of her breasts, pushing at the material to reveal more of her velvety soft skin.

‘Do you want me to stop?’ he asked, desperately hoping she would not say yes.

‘Don’t stop.’ Her voice came out as a gasp, and he felt such desire as he never had before.

A little voice somewhere deep inside screamed at him to stop, but it was easy to ignore. All he wanted, all he could think about, was the woman in front of him. He gripped at the material of her sensible dress, pulling it until he exposed her chemise underneath. The top was held together by a delicate bow that he untied within seconds.

‘You’re so beautiful,’ he murmured as he lowered his head again, his lips meeting her skin. The carriage jolted a little as it swung round a corner, and Henry took the opportunity to sit back on his seat, pulling Miss Shepherd with him so she landed in his lap. He was about to kiss her again when she stiffened.

‘We’re slowing down,’ she said, her voice laced with panic.

‘No,’ he murmured, peppering kisses down her neck.

‘We are. We’re slowing down.’

He paused for a second, realising she was right. He tweaked the curtain that covered the window to look outside.

‘Damn,’ he muttered. He recognised the street they were on—they were very close to Miss Shepherd’s lodgings. The carriage would be rolling to a stop in less than a minute.

Miss Shepherd scrambled off his lap and fell onto her seat, leaving him feeling bereft. She looked beautifully dishevelled and he contemplated thumping the roof and calling out for the coachman to do another lap of London, but already Miss Shepherd was lacing her chemise together and trying to adjust her dress. She was looking down, refusing to meet his eye.

The weight of what they had done hit him, and he could not believe he had lost control again. For the past few years he had worked and worked on his self-control, on making sacrifices so that he could achieve his long-term goals. Now every promise he had made to himself he’d broken, after just a few minutes in a carriage with Miss Shepherd.

‘I expect you are sorry,’ she said, eyeing him warily.

‘I am. Of course I am. Miss Shepherd...’

She held up a finger and silenced him with an icy glare. It was chilling how quickly she had changed from moaning in pleasure underneath him to looking as though she never wished to see him again.

‘Please spare me the lecture on how much you like and respect me, but couldn’t possibly think about marrying me,’ she said, quickly removing a few pins from her hair and jabbing them back in. He winced as she pushed them in with force, feeling every scrape of her scalp. ‘Thankfully no one saw our indiscretion...’ She grimaced and then corrected herself. ‘Our mistake.’

‘Miss Shepherd...’

She held up the finger again and he fell silent, not wanting to enrage her further.

‘I have no desire to become the next burden to your conscience, so I suggest we meet one further time to discuss what progress you have made in tracking Selina down, and then we bid each other farewell. For good.’ She looked as though even spending five more minutes in his company would be too much, but she would tolerate it for the sake of her sister.

The carriage slowed and Miss Shepherd flung open the door before it had even come to a complete stop, jumping down into the street. He watched her stride up the steps to her lodging house, not once looking back, her shoulders tense. Just before the carriage began moving again he saw her fumble with the key, jabbing it three times into the lock before she managed to open the door.

Henry slumped back against the seat. He should go after her, even if there was no way he would be admitted to her rooms, and he doubted Miss Shepherd would deign to step outside to speak to him now.

‘Damn, damn, damn,’ he said, thumping his fist against the seat. He had handled this poorly, very poorly indeed.

Sarah rushed up the stairs, unlocked her door and dashed into her room, only allowing the tears to spill from her eyes when the door was firmly closed and locked behind her. She threw herself on her bed, buried her face in the pillow and let out a deep sob.

For a minute she allowed herself to cry, letting out all the disappointment and heartache. She used the pillow to muffle the sound of her weeping, not wanting her neighbours to know she was so upset.

Once she had let the tears flow for long enough she sat up, wiping her cheeks and breathing deeply, gritting her teeth to stop more droplets escaping her eyes. Lord Routledge was a distraction, nothing more. There was no point in getting so upset over him.

Her rebellious mind flashed back to the moment he had looked at her as if she were the most irresistible woman on earth. How his lips had claimed her, how expertly he had touched her, bewitching her, so in that moment she would have agreed to anything.

‘He does not want you,’ she told herself, annoyed when the thought made her sad. She should not want him either, but she did. The whole point of her being in London was to find Selina—anything else was a distraction. Twice now she had allowed herself to succumb to his charms, to give in to her desire and kiss him, even though she knew nothing good could come of it. She needed to focus on finding her sister and then leaving London for the job she had worked so hard to find. That was her future, not obsessing over a Viscount who had very clearly told her there could never—not a chance, not even if they both wanted it—be anything between them.

She did not think Lord Routledge was playing games. He was a kind and genuine man, and he had so far been true to his word, offering assistance in tracking down Selina. The kisses they had shared had been the result of an overwhelming attraction between them. She had felt it, and from the possessive look in his eyes he had felt the same too. They desired one another so much it had been impossible to keep their hands to themselves.