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Chapter Seven
The carriage clattered to a stop, and Percy bounded out and assisted Frederica down. They entered the townhouse in silence, neither mentioning the madness that had just happened in the carriage. “Frederica,” he began. “Perhaps we should have a drink and a conversation before you retire to bed.”
“Oh, dear,” she murmured. “My full name.”
Percy scrubbed a hand over his face. “Freddie—”
She whirled in the hallway to face him. “I do not regret it. If you are going to apologize for it, that my lord will bruise my feelings.”
How forthright she was, and it brought him up sharp. He knew he sounded brusque, when he should have been more tender considering it was her first kiss…first moment of passion. Hell. Percy scrubbed a hand over his face and release a deep sigh. He had no excuse that mitigated his reaction, though he was aware he was trying to balance a chaotic mix of feelings that had shaken him to the core against his duty and honor.
She stepped close to him and brushed a kiss against his jawline. “Thank you for the experience. You are a remarkable teacher.”
She turned around, casually tossing good night over her shoulders and made her way up the stairs. Percy stood in the hallway and watched her go. He’d had many women in his lifetime thank him after a wicked night of pleasure. It felt damn worrying for those same words to come from Freddie’s lips.
Teacher.
Hell, he supposed this was what she wanted, and he knew she was a very decided female. She truly would not regret their flash of pleasure. Perhaps it might not even haunt her, given she saw it as a mere lesson. He walked into his study and sat down behind the large mahogany desk. Almost three hours later, Percy was unable to sleep. He had unknotted his cravat, poured himself a brandy, and stood by the windows overlooking the gardens and drinking. He was well onto his fourth glass.
He had almost ravished Freddie in his carriage. God, she had tasted of innocence and fire and passion. He closed his eyes, recalling the moment his willpower had crumbled and he had caught her mouth with his. Even now the taste of sun-ripened peaches lingered on his tongue. The tongue she had released against at least twice. It was more than lust that she had inspired. Yet the emotions were decidedly unknown but very pleasant. He wanted to capture all the feelings she had roused inside of him for the night and hoard them. Then he would slowly take them apart and examine what they bloody meant to him. His mind felt elated and confused, it had been so hard for him to tear himself from her body and taking her innocence irrevocably.
An indefinable sensation pierced his chest, and he admitted when he’d kissed her, she had also tasted like…happiness and sin in one delightful package. She tasted like she should belong to him. He emptied his glass in one long swallow, appreciating the burn that traveled to his gut. She could belong to him. What the hell did he mean by that? He tried to logically reason out his thoughts.
He had no need to marry, and this desperate hunger for her could be an aberration. A malady that would soon pass and stop haunting his damn dreams. Even if he thought her the loveliest creature, he was all of thirteen years older than her. When the damn chit was of a mind, she teased him and called him ‘papa.’
Percy scowled, then grinned. She really was a handful. But such a luscious, delightful one. The most obvious impediment to his unexpected leanings was that she wanted another. Her eyes softened every time she’d spoken of this fool, and the smile that curved her mouth always hinted of fondness and longing. Not because he had developed a case of primal attraction for her meant he had a right to come between her and her heart desires.
He would be a damn selfish cad. And he bloody well needed to leave London for a bit. Even a week. Or else he might drive himself mad from wanting. There was a way to end this. There was a way to regain control. It was not like he had fallen madly in lust the first time he ever saw her. His attraction was very new, and there were days he wondered why his heart had lurched from a simple smile she bestowed upon him several weeks ago.
Had there been something special in that curve of her mouth? A sensual awareness? Or was it her eyes as they had lingered upon him, a softness in her gaze that had stolen his breath for a precious moment. Whatever it was, his reaction had been the very beginning of this special torment, and he would damn well find the end. For both their sakes.
* * *
The next morning,with a belly full of nerves, Frederica made her way from the breakfast room to the drawing room. She had not seen the marquess all morning, and she was uncertain she could face him without infernal blushes. Worse, Aunt Cecily was present, and surely, she would take one look at them and know something had happened.
Hurrying down the hallway, she paused at the door to the drawing room.
“Absolutely not, I forbid it,” Aunt Cecily’s voice was heard saying in that strident manner of hers through the drawing room door.
“While I love and respect you, madam, you are not in a place to forbid anything,” Percy said drily. “Those ugly frocks you’ve had her wearing will be a thing of the pass. A full wardrobe with bold hues that suits her coloring.”
“What would you know of it, I tell you white and peach are what is flattering to her. Her figure also leans toward voluptuousness, and she needs dresses to hide it, not pronounce her shape as you so wickedly suggest!”
Frederica smoothed down the day dress she wore. She had a voluptuous figure?
“I know enough,” the marquess said in a tone that brooked no argument.
And Frederica supposed he did. The marquess was considered by some to be a fashionable man about town. He was always impeccably dressed and had enough beauties on his hand that was always beautifully dressed.
“Think of the expense!” Aunt Cecily said faintly.
“I can afford her a thousand dresses,” he said arrogantly.
“Yes, but—”
“There are no buts. I have already told my man that there will be no limit to this venture. I have also taken the liberty to send a letter to the new Duchess of Hartford, asking her to be Freddie’s shopping companion in this matter.”
She knocked on the door and entered when his voice bid her entry.
