AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Arranging an assignation? Lord, he hoped he was going about this the right way.
The christening party was a large affair and this enabled less scrutiny. The fine weather had held, and like Lady Umbrage’s name-giving ceremony, the event was being held outdoors.
Several dozen guests were now converged about the trestle tables between the river and Quamby Park further up the hill which was reached by a series of rambling terraced walkways. It was a brisk, five minute walk along the river’s edge before the path skirted sharp left, twisting a little up the hillside to where the Oriental Pavilion nestled amidst a copse of trees with its magnificent view of the surrounding countryside.
Few guests would know of its existence and besides, they were more interested in the jellies, pies and tarts laid on in abundance, so Sylvester had no difficult in slipping away at the appointed time. He’d not be noticed.
When he looked over his shoulder, he saw Lady Fenton and Miss Brightwell walking companionably along the wooded path in the direction of the Oriental Pleasure Pavilion, and a little spurt of excitement spurred him on. Lady Fenton would abandon her charge, ensuring she was not seen to be alone at any point. She was cunning, that one.
Sylvester hastened his steps, arriving breathless at the pagoda-like structure which was fully enclosed, and immensely private, despite its magnificent view.
He pushed open the door and gazed about him. Bertram Brightwell had not lied when he’d informed Sylvester that its layout and location were ideal for what was required.
And what was required?
With a jolt of surprise, he saw that a very commodious bed covered by a Chinese-inspired counterpane and an abundance of cushions took up much of the space. Window seats lined the walls however it was clear that the Oriental Pavilion was used as a secret trysting place for Lord Quamby and his countess—no doubt with their respective amours.
His skin felt suddenly highly sensitive and his breathing came with difficulty as desire slammed through him. Bertram knew exactly what he was talking about when he suggested to Sylvester that this would be the ideal place to lure his cousin.
Not that Miss Brightwell needed much luring. Every glance and uttering confirmed the fact that she would be relishing just as much as he, what lay ahead.
Otherwise, why would she be colluding with all three of her cousins to escape her smothering chaperonage to be with him—alone?
And sure enough, a few minutes later, there was Miss Brightwell, with no one else in attendance, hurrying the last few yards towards him as he opened the door of the pavilion to welcome her.
Instantly she was in his arms, clinging to him and offering her mouth while he responded with equal ardour. Two small stained glass windows illuminated the bed and a room was bathed in a soft, intimate light.
Still kissing her, he circled her waist with his hands, picked her up and settled her on the edge of the bed, his hand travelling up her skirts in one fluid movement. For a moment he was confronted by her utter shock but as his probing fingers skimmed her heated inner thigh, she arched into him with a soft moan.
What an extraordinarily erotic sensation it was to find an untutored virgin suddenly so very willing. Willing to throw herself into lust with him while throwing caution to the wind.
“Perhaps we shouldn’t… Oh…goodness,” she gasped as he skimmed the slickness between her legs before intensifying the pressure.
Her eyes widened even more and for a moment she looked on the point of objecting, but as he redoubled his efforts to pleasure her, she sagged upon his shoulder, her breath hot against his ear.
Meanwhile he was all but bursting his breeches, but for now, this was all for her. As if it had been a sacred duty, he’d taken upon himself the duty of showing her what pleasure was, and he’d do it without compromise. Later, he could show her how it might be beautifully mutual.
Her arms tightened around him but he prized open her grip so she could lay her back down upon the bed and curl her against his side.
Nothing would have given him greater pleasure than to cage her beneath him and to release himself from his breeches and plunge inside her when the time was right.
Except the time wasn’t right. This was for her.
She hadn’t closed her eyes but stared at him, as if unable to either object or voice her excitement for excitement was clearly what she was experiencing. He saw it in the flare of her large, dark pupils, through her labored breathing, her barely audible moans of pleasure and the sheen of sweat on her forehead. Her jaw was clenched and the concentration in her eyes was intense.
So was his own need and desire but for now he was orchestrating all this for her, for soon she’d be dead. A wave of the greatest sadness settled upon his shoulders which he tried to banish with the knowledge that at least Miss Brightwell would go to her grave knowing she’d been worshipped as a desirable woman; knowing what pleasures the body could experience.
But the sadness persisted, lodging in the core of his being as a terrible grief; yes, grief! For, he now realised, Miss Brightwell was the very woman he’d been searching for his entire life: genuinely kind, truly maternal, nurturing, and, he truly believed, deeply in love with him.
“Oh…oh…” She was panting softly now, her hands clenched into fists, her hips moving gently in rhythm to his ministrations.
“Come, my darling,” he whispered as she shattered into his arms, gasping her astonishment and then her shock, too, for in taking such pleasure she knew that she had sinned.
He kissed her lips, helping her to sit up, to climb off the bed—for he knew they had so little time—smiling as he murmured, “Did you enjoy that?”
“I had no idea.” Shaking her head in wonder, she looked down at her skirt, now demurely at her ankles. “But is that…oh, what have we done?” The dim light of the room and the muffled silence, punctuated by birdsong, lent an air of unreality to the situation.
“You’re still a virgin, if that’s what you mean?” he reassured her, holding her against him before quirking his eyebrow. “However, there’s plenty of variation on that theme if you want to explore more of such territory with me.”
