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“My father’s passion was the Bible and doing good works for the community in and around Heathwick Green. Of course, my mother did participate in charity work—visiting villagers, helping out at the parish school, and the like. But for the most part, I think she was bored being Mrs. Obadiah Jones. At best, my parents were politely distant. At worst…” She shivered. “My father was a hard, pernickety man, and disdain was his bedfellow far more often than my mother was.”
“Forgive me for being so blunt, but do you think that your motherhadto get married?”
Artemis shrugged. “I can’t imagine my father ever did anything that wasn’t proper. I’m sure he never seduced her and got her in the family way before they wed. Yes, why they married is a complete mystery to me. I’m sure my aunt knows, but she would never tell.
“In any event”—she released a sigh—“observing how unhappy they were, I never formed a very positive opinion about marriage, even before I was forced to have a Season.”
Dominic brushed a curl away from her cheek. “You didn’t want a London Season? You never dreamed of finding your own Mr. Darcy or Mr. Rochester or Mr. Thornton?”
She smiled at that. She liked it that Dominic paid particular attention to everything she said. “Once upon a time when I was Celeste’s age, I suppose I did. But I soon came to realize that Byronic heroes only exist in books and I wasn’t likely to find someone who fit the bill in a London ballroom. But after my mother passed away when I was fifteen, Aunt Roberta assumed the role of female guardian, and she was determined that I would marry, and well. Then I met Guy de Burgh.”
Artemis couldn’t suppress a shudder. “He was so very handsome and charm personified. For the space of a month and two days, I really did believe I might have found my very own Mr. Darcy. I had no clue that everything he told me—that he wanted to make me his, that he adored me—was a lie. He seduced me, and once he’d had enough of me—when someone far richer by the name of Evangeline Gibbs came along—he cast me off like I meant no more to him than a harlot he’d thrown a few coins to after he was done.” A bitter laugh escaped her. “In a way, his ill treatment of me was worse than that because I didn’t even get paid. I was such a naive fool, but I was so caught up in the thrill of having a clandestine romance—and thwarting my aunt—that I was willing to risk everything. Thank God I didn’t fall pregnant because I had no idea about how to prevent conception. Guy certainly didn’t care enough to take precautions.”
“I could kill him for treating you so badly.” Dominic’s voice was such a harsh growl, like oncoming thunder, that Artemis lifted her head.
“I’m sure you don’t mean that. Besides, it was a decade ago now.” Although Artemis had thought about doing Gascoyne bodily harm when she’d seen him with Phoebe, she wouldn’t really hurt him. But Dominic sounded so fierce. The quicksilver flash in his gaze, the set of his jaw, the way a muscle flexed in his cheek spoke of an anger that was formidable.
“If he were here right now,” continued Dominic in a voice so low and soft with menace that a shiver of foreboding slid through Artemis, “I’d happily pummel him into dust. Or better yet, gut him with a blunt butter knife and then feed him to the worms.”
While Artemis had always contemplated telling Dominic about her sister’s ill-advised affair at some stage, she definitely wouldn’t tell him now. Not after this disclosure and the manner in which he’d delivered it. Indeed, at this moment, she was deathly afraid of what he might do if Gascoyne actuallydidruin Phoebe and he found out. “Noblemen” called each other out at the drop of a hatpin, and she didn’t want her sister’s foolishness to be the tipping point that resulted in any sort of bloodshed between Dominic and his vile brother-in-law.
Phoebe washerresponsibility, and she’d warned both her sister and Aunt Roberta about what a snake Gascoyne was. Phoebe had made her bed and now she’d have to lie in it. If anything untoward happened, it was on her head and no one else’s.
“You’ve gone all quiet, Artemis,” murmured Dominic. “I’m sorry if I’ve upset you with my display of temper.”
“You haven’t upset me,” she replied. Although she couldn’t deny she was unsettled. “I certainly understand how easy it is to be infuriated by Lord Gascoyne. Let’s not talk about him anymore.”
“Agreed.” Dominic’s fierce frown lifted and his eyes gleamed. “What shall we do instead?”
“I can think of something.” While part of Artemis simply wanted to distract Dominic to avoid further discussion about a perilous topic, she also couldn’t deny her own insatiable need for this man. It was so strong, she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to give him up. But she didn’t want to think about having to face another upsetting prospect right now.
While she was in his arms, she’d live in the moment.
With a smile, she extricated herself from the tangled sheets, then straddled Dominic. She undulated her own hips, and the damp cleft of her sex glided over his already half-aroused cock. “Will this do?”
One of Dominic’s hands slid possessively to the back of her head, and he pulled her down for a kiss, not gentle this time but full of heat and rough, raw lust. His mouth commanded hers—his tongue stroked deeply, a tantalizing prelude to what they were about to do. His teeth nipped and pulled at her lower lip, and then he gave a low growl. “Most definitely.”
“Good.” After raising her body slightly, Artemis grasped Dominic’s now fully erect cock and then sheathed him, her greedy sex enveloping all of his long, steel-hard length in one slow, smooth glide. And she moaned.
Oh dear Lord, his possession felt good. He filled her so well and so completely that she could already feel tremors of pleasure rippling through her. The way his burning gaze trapped hers as he plunged in and out of her was sublime. It was no wonder at all that she never wanted this feeling of being Dominic’s and Dominic’s alone to end.
But all too soon, pleasure claimed both of them. When Dominic reached between their sweat-slickened bodies and thumbed her core, Artemis’s whole body bowed as pure ecstasy shot through her. And then Dominic pulled out with a mighty roar, spilling his seed onto the sheets instead of inside her.
Just like he always did. Just like they’d agreed upon.
Dominic wrapped her in his arms, kissed her tenderly, and Artemis reveled in the warmth of his embrace and the deep satisfaction humming through her veins. But as their breathing slowed and Dominic slipped into sleep, a niggling feeling—a pang of sorts—penetrated her contented, dreamy languor.
For the first time ever, she almost regretted the fact that Dominic had withdrawn from her when he’d spent. Since Gascoyne had used her so terribly, and after she’d somehow escaped the terrible fate of becoming an “unwed mother,” she’d never once let herself indulge in the fantasy of having children. For so long, she hadn’t believed in love or marriage, so babies were not for her.
While she hadn’t had sexual intercourse in the intervening years, she’d educated herself and knew how to guard against conception if she ever did take another lover. She had physical needs after all and never intended to live the life of a nun.
But now…what if shehadfound the right man? Not the dark and brooding unattainable hero of her girlish daydreams, but a real man, agoodman who would care for her? Who believed in her and supported her goals? Maybe shecouldhave a baby given the right set of circumstances.
Her thoughts drifted to the lovely nursery here at Ashburn, and her mind conjured up a beguiling image of herself and Dominic laying their own baby in that cradle. That pang—a strange, sweet ache—squeezed her heart again, and instead of ruthlessly rooting it out and crushing it like she’d always done in the past, she let it linger. Let it come to life and then take shape and blossom. The promise within that vision was so strong and so poignant, tears sprang to Artemis’s eyes.
And then a sigh of regret slid out of her. What was the use of dreaming about babies and nurseries and a life with Dominic if he learned the truth about her and decided she was not the sort of woman he could marry after all? He didn’t know everything about her. Not yet…
The problem was that she didn’t trust him enough—not with her powder keg of a secret.
Finding the courage to share that she was Lydia Lovelace might be the hardest thing she’d ever have to do.
