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She was rather gratified by his lack of constraint. Lord Ludbridge was the most proper of men, and his response was even better than she could have hoped for, making it easy to swoon into his arms and twine her arms behind his neck, raising her head for his kiss.
His lips came down upon hers, hard and passionately, and she was about to surrender herself completely when she remembered the odd cushioned bulk about her middle that he would assuredly realize was a ruse if his hands were to wander. With a cry of real anguish, she broke free, stepping back and shaking her head.
“This is torment, Lord Ludbridge. I don’t know how you can bear to look at me. I must be disgusting to you. Why, this would have been your child had you not left me vulnerable to the cruel clutches of that hated devil, Debenham.” She clasped her hands over her belly. “How I wish it were your child, but how wrong of me to utter such blasphemies and to give in to my desires.” Her shoulders shook with unfeigned passion. “Debenham is a tyrant, yet I am completely at his mercy.”
“Araminta. Miss Partington. I mean, Lady Debenham...” Lord Ludbridge took a step forward, and would have taken Araminta once more into his arms had she not stepped backward.
She shook her head, and said in a small voice, “You are too good for me, Lord Ludbridge, and I must beware my wayward heart.” Plucking a small white flower that sprouted beside her, she held it to her heart, which truly was beating painfully. How she longed to throw herself—her everything—to the wind and surrender to what he was prepared to offer her now, yet had not been able to bring himself to offer when she’d so needed him to succumb to his desires. The night he proposed. The night before he abandoned her to leave for France in order to rescue that...childhood sweetheart who’d apparently had such a claim on his conscience and sense of honor.
“Araminta, I don’t know what to say.”
“Oh Lord Ludbridge...Teddy? I can still call you that, can’t I? You cannot know how your friendship sustains me when I think of the perversities Debenham will subject me to when I am back within his orbit and...no longer with child. Right now, in my current situation...breeding...he wished me out of his sight. I disgust him, just as I must disgust you.”
“You would never disgust me, Araminta! My angel, my pearl, you are divine.” He grasped her hands and kissed each knuckle as he went on. “You are my Madonna. Yes, Madonna; that worthy, blameless goddess who comes to mind whenever I gaze at your serene, maternal beauty.” His voice broke. “I could refuse you nothing.”
Araminta brought her hands up to her face, and felt her shoulders shake as she sobbed softly.
“My dearest, what is it?” He sounded shocked. “Tell me!”
Pacing, she shook her head as her sobbing intensified. “Oh, Teddy, I don’t know what to do. I’m in danger. I fear for my life and the life of my child, and I don’t know what to do!”
“Your life? Not...” His tone became ominous. “Not Debenham. He hasn’t hurt you? Threatened you? Dear God!”
Araminta stopped and raised her tear-filled gaze to look at Lord Ludbridge, whose outrage was just what she’d hoped for. “He’s not exactly kind but no, he hasn’t hurt me,” she said brokenly. “It’s just that I heard a terrible story not long ago. About...”
When she couldn’t go on, Lord Ludbridge strode forward and cupped her face. “Araminta, you must tell me. Perhaps I can help you. You know I’d do anything.”
She gripped his hands and looked searchingly at him. “Would you, Teddy? Would you really help me? Can I truly believe that?”
“You must know it’s true, dear heart. Whatever it is that I can do to stop your tears, I would do it gladly, if it were only within my power.”
“But it is within your power, Teddy, it is! If you can show me that I have your heart and your loyalty, I would do anything to show my gratitude.”
Chapter Seventeen
Kitty felt ebullient as she returned to her charming new lodgings that eveni
ng. Minna, the maid who worked as a parlormaid and her personal maid, had turned back the bedcovers and arranged flowers in all the rooms, according to Kitty’s instructions, and was now belowstairs, assisted by a young girl who did the heavy work.
Knowing how Nash liked to find her always ready to welcome him, Kitty changed into a white, sprigged muslin gown, and let down her hair before taking an apple and a good book to her bed.
It wasn’t late, but this was where Nash enjoyed spending the most time.
Half an hour later, she was disappointed when he arrived in the midst of the most exciting love scene in her Sir Walter Scott novel, but her smile of pleasure came readily as she put it down, putting out her arms as he strode across the room.
“Kitty, my darling, you are a picture! Talking of which, I want to hear all about your sitting. But later.” With his usual enthusiasm, he was divesting himself of sundry pieces of clothing as he approached, discarding his coat, which fell into a heap upon the Aubusson carpet, to be followed by his waistcoat. Grunting as he fumbled to unwind his cravat, he finally tossed the length of snowy linen to the floor, desire radiating from the depths of his roiling eyes.
“Oh Nash, I learned something that made me so happy—”
“You can tell me later, my sweet.” He shrugged off his shirt, then set to work on the buttons of his trousers after kicking off his Hessians. Nash was an early adopter of the latest fashions, and for a moment Kitty was reminded of Mr. Lamont. Except that Mr. Lamont was clearly a popinjay who took fashion to extreme, whereas Nash had consummate style and finesse, which he immediately displayed as, naked, he slid into the bed beside her and began to stroke her flanks, his hand stealing up beneath her skirts while his other worked at the buttons at the back of her gown so he could remove her gown and then her petticoat and stays.
Kitty wriggled happily into his embrace and kissed him on the mouth, sighing as he cupped her mound and gently traced circles around her nipples. “Ah, but you make me so happy.”
And it was true. While she felt he loved her, going to such constant lengths over the past weeks to prove it, she felt secure and safe. And very much loved. She’d never felt any of these things at home. Now she was mistress of her destiny and right now, wrapped in the arms of the most handsome and adoring gentleman any girl could wish to have for her lover.
“And you satisfy me on every level, ma petite choux.”
Kitty knew the reason he sounded so strangled was because his erection was hard and pressing into her thigh, and he couldn’t wait to enter her. Yet he was always assiduous in pleasuring her first. She had no other experience of men, but she’d heard whispers in the theater and knew that lovers who thought only of their own gratification, abounded. It was further proof of the fact Nash was the ideal mate. A man who was thoughtful and who respected her and her right to a happiness equal to his own.
