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Tremors shot down his legs as his climax peaked. He did not realize how hard he was squeezing her breast until she cried out. He let go and wrapped her in his arms as his lust finished draining into her. The blood pounded relentlessly in his head, but he managed to kiss her gently on the temple. She nestled closer to him. This too was glorious.
And as he cradled her in his arms, he found himself wishing that what she had said was true. He wished he was indeed devoid of morals.
Chapter Four
Heloise awoke to find Lord Cadwell gone. At first his disappearance did not trouble her. The pleasure of her experience still lingered and as she stretched her arms overhead, she recalled as much as she could, not wanting her memory to forget the smallest detail. Strange as it seemed, it was not merely the havoc he had wreaked upon her body—she had never thought her body could react as intensely as it had—that she cherished the most. The overwhelming sense of freedom, of trust, was what had elevated her experience to the heavens.
She also recalled with fondness their dialogue. That was how he had seduced her. Despite her belief that his philosophy was self-serving—it had to be, for how could someone genuinely believe such radical liberalism?—she had found their conversation stimulating. And he seemed perfectly at ease having such a discussion with her when others would have scoffed at her as some bluestocking. Thus, she did not mind that he might have proved her a hypocrite. She would be more than content to have him prove the point over and over again.
The yearning between her legs began to simmer at the thought. Looking about the room, she wondered what else he might have in store for her. Would he try the nine-of-tails next? Stirring in the bed, she relished the tenderness of her bottom and the ache between her legs, wondering how much more she could take. The thought frightened and intrigued her.
Annabelle appeared at the door with a tray. “His Lordship asked me to bring some victuals.”
Eying the thinly sliced ham and colorful sweetmeats, Heloise realized she was famished. Annabelle set the tray upon the bed and poured a glass of wine.
“Your gown is being ironed, madam,” Annabelle said, “and I shall return shortly to attend to your toilette.”
“Thank you.”
After a quick bob, the maid left. As Heloise buttered her bread, she wondered why she should bother getting dressed if she would end up naked again. Oh, but the process of undressing was delightful. She wondered if she would have the opportunity to see him completely naked. The thought made her salivate more than the food.
“The berries are fresh from the garden.”
She glanced quickly to the door. The Earl of Blythe stood on the threshold, dressed magnificently in gray. She had never found gray to be an appealing color, but he wore it well. The hue would have made a pale man look ashen but did nothing to tarnish the bronze in Lord Cadwell’s complexion. He wore his riding hat and riding boots and a light cloak was draped about his shoulders.
“Are you headed out?” she asked. She glanced out the windows to see that the sun had just begun to emerge from the horizon.
“If you leave within the hour, you will be home not long after dawn,” he informed her.
Her brows lifted in reaction—she had not even been here a day—but the tone of his voice suggested he had no interest in prolonging her stay. What had happened? Had she done something to offend? She had thought he approved of her performance. Was that not so?
“You’re letting me go?” she asked.
“It was never my intention to keep you prisoner. I may be devoid of morals, but I am no tyrant.”
Never his intention or not his desire? Would he have felt differently if she were Josephine?
“What of Josephine?” she inquired when he touched his hat to her and prepared to take his leave.
“You may rest easy, Miss Merrill. I will not be extending another invitation to your cousin.”
Because he might end up with her instead? She watched him depart in stunned silence. Was this how he was with the other women? Did he bring them ecstasy, show them a bit of affection, then cast them aside as quickly as possible?
Of course. What a fool she had been to think that he might have taken a fancy to her. Apparently she did not merit even a full weekend with him. He had proved his point and shown her for a charlatan. Did she expect anything else from entangling herself with a rake like Sebastian Cadwell?
The bread, though freshly baked, suddenly tasted stale to her. With a sigh, she pushed away the tray and rose from the bed to prepare for a long and lonely journey home.
* * * * *
“Surely you are not leaving so soon, mon cheri?” Lady Follet asked from the settee where she lounged in a stola.
Sebastian bowed. “I have no reason to stay, and came only to bid you adieu.”
“Adieu? But why?” Marguerite persisted as she plucked a grape off its stem.
He eyed the two brawny men, dressed in togas, who had been servicing her. “I have no wish to trouble you with more than a goodbye, seeing as you are occupied, my lady.”
She waved her pair of Roman servants away. “I am now unoccupied.”
