On a Long Ago Night (27 page)

chilly in here to be naked on alabaster."

"Naked!" Honoria whirled around. "Stop looking at me like

that."

"How am I looking at you?"

His large amber eyes glittered in a way that sent heady waves

of desire through her. No man should have the power to make a

woman weak and ready to swoon simply by looking at her!

I have a wicked nature
, she reminded herself. "You are the

devil, James Marbury."

"Yes, I know."

"I will not be tempted." She planted her hands behind her

back and faced him with bright spots of color staining her cheeks.

Outrage? Or interest? It would be far more than interest by

the time he was done with her, he vowed. He knew his Honoria.

"You look lovely naked. How can you move in so much

clothing, anyway?"

"I move very well, Mr. Marbury. And I think you should

move, as well." He picked up the book and came toward her. She

pointed at the open window. "I meant that you should leave the

way you came. I don't want you to be seen."

"I enjoy seeing you. I always have."

"I do not wish to be seen."

"Yes, you do. And touched, and made love to." She backed

up toward the fireplace. He followed slowly after. "I should have

taken you home with me last night," he told her. "We could have

studied the book together. Then we wouldn't have spent the night

imagining and remembering. We would have made new

memories."

"My old memories are quite enough to occupy me, Mr.

Marbury."

He smiled triumphantly. "At least you don't deny

remembering the way we made

love. Do you know what I remember the most?"

He watched Honoria's curiosity get the better of her. She

leaned forward just a little, her breasts rising and falling with her

quick breathing, eyes shining as she reluctantly asked, "What?"

He whispered the answer. "The rapt look on your face when

you climaxed."

She moistened her lips, the quick gesture infinitely and

unconsciously sensual. "Oh."

James knew he was right to have obeyed the impulse to leave

the book here and wait for her, when his original plan had been to

sneak into her room and leave the erotic picture book on her pillow.

Leaving her a reminder of the pleasure they'd shared wasn't nearly

as rewarding as reminding her in person.

"It is customary to say thank you for a present," James

reminded her. He came closer and put a finger beneath her chin.

Then he traced a finger around her lips. He did not think that she

noticed her lips open at his soft touch. "Or would you rather show

me your appreciation instead?"

The man's low, sultry voice sent a shiver through Honoria.

She tensed as she looked at him, her body thrummed with it, but

there was no fear or trepidation within her. What she felt was rich

and heady desire, growing with every passing moment The man

had a gift—with a word, a look, a sure, seductive touch…

And that was what he was doing, seducing her. For some

reason, she had lost track of her wits for a few moments. Honoria

blinked, and closed her mouth. She blazed with anger as she

snatched the erotic picture book from his hand. She shook it at him.

"You left this for my father to see, didn't you?"

"Of course not. Are those real gold buttons?"

"Then why bring
this
book into this house? This room?"

He touched the top button of her gown. "It's very pretty. A

gold rose."

"Yes, it's a gold rose. What about the—"

"Excuse me." He grasped the gold rose button and twisted.

The button popped off; he barely heard it ricochet off a bookcase as

Honoria gasped in outrage: With deft fingers he popped off a

second, third, and fourth button before Honoria was able to spin

away.

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her back to press close to

him. He wanted to feel her naked thighs molded to his, but was

frustrated by her layers and layers of skirts. "Silly European

clothes," he murmured, his lips close to her ear.

Then he kissed just the right spot on her throat beneath her

ear. She moaned just as he expected. The book thumped on the rug

as it dropped from her hand. Honoria pushed him roughly away.

Then she grabbed him by the hair, pulled his head up, and

kissed him. The taste and scent of her filled his senses. Her

perfume was roses, and she tasted hot and fierce and utterly

fearless. She inspired passion like no one else he had ever known.

Their tongues danced together as he caressed her shoulders and the

nape of her elegant neck. He plucked the pins from her hair, then

answered the urgent need to touch her through her damned chemise

and corset. He wanted her breasts free. And the skirt which barred

access to the rest of her rich body—that definitely had to go!

Honoria couldn't stop herself and didn't want to. She pulled

him as close as she could, wildly cupping his buttocks and

kneading the taut muscles of his back and shoulders. Things were

getting out of hand. How unwise and how lovely. He had said

something about using the tabletop. Well, why not? She threw her

head back and laughed, and James took the opportunity to kiss the

base of her throat. She clutched at his shoulders and moaned again

with her eyes closed. The heat of the fireplace was behind her, and

the heat from James's touch grew deep inside.

Fire. Burning. Passion.
Don't you see what you're doing?

What he's doing? Stop it, you fool! You can't lose yourself in

desire
!

Why not
, she argued with the stern, logical voice inside her

head. That logical voice continued, though she wanted it to stop:

because the man was attempting to manipulate her weakness, to use

her for his own purposes. Because emotion of any kind was not to

be trusted, passion most of all. He claimed to want to marry her

when he had no reason other than to tell her it was "complicated."

No doubt it was nefarious, as well. Perhaps he was involved in

some scheme with his father to cheat her father of his fortune, or

use him politically. Whatever was going on, she must think of her

father's welfare first. She could not think in the throes of lust.

Oh, really? I seem to be doing a pretty good job at the

moment. I want to shut up and let myself enjoy this.

The door to the library opened. "My lady?" Huseby said.

Then the maid gasped.

James was at Huseby's side in an instant, his hand over her

mouth before she had a chance to shriek.

"It's all right," he told her. "We're engaged."

"We are not." There was annoyed tartness in Honoria's voice,

beneath the breathlessness.

James didn't argue, but concentrated on reassuring the

servant. "There's nothing to

be alarmed about." He slowly took his hand from her mouth.

"Nothing at all."

"I'm fine, Maggie," Honoria said, coming to stand near her

maid. "And Mr. Marbury is leaving now."

She held her bodice together with one hand, and jerked a

thumb at the open window with the other.

"Now," she repeated.

Her hair was down around her face, her lips were red and

swollen from kissing, her cheeks and throat were flushed with

color. He didn't want to stop, or to leave, not when things were just

getting interesting.

Huseby gave him a stern look, then concentrated on her

mistress. "My lady, you must come quickly. Baroness Lehzen is in

the drawing room."

"Baroness Lehzen?" Honoria asked. She looked around

aghast. "Here?" She crossed both hands over her bosom. "Now?"

"The queen's Baroness Lehzen?" James asked. "What's the

queen's best friend doing here?"

"She's come to see my lady, of course," Huseby answered, in

a tone that reminded James that
his
Honoria outranked any jumped-

up governess, no matter whose best friend Lehzen was. "You

shouldn't keep her waiting," Huseby addressed Honoria. "His Grace

sends a message that you are to convince the baroness that you are

worthy of being a lady-in-waiting to Queen Victoria. You had

better go change clothes first, though," she added.

James looked at Honoria, adorably disheveled and

disconcerted, and couldn't keep from laughing.

She pointed angrily at the window again. "I believe you know

the way out, Mr. Marbury."

Despite her frosty tone, he howled with laughter. She gave

him one furious glance, then went to the library door. A visit from

Baroness Lehzen was important to her future; he would not

jeopardize that again. Damn it—just when things had been getting

interesting!

"Don't worry darling," he called just before the door

slammed. "I'll see you soon."

The next morning, Honoria looked at the stained and scorched

cover of the book, then hurriedly opened a drawer in her dressing

table and hid it away as Huseby came to work on her hair. Honoria

had given her huge array of servants the day off, leaving Huseby to

do all the work of making Lady Alexandra presentable. Honoria

had also cancelled all her invitations to balls and parties, though

she planned to keep her charity work appointments today. She

needed to be alone as it was possible for her to be.

She couldn't stop thinking about the book, or James's

suggestion about page fourteen yesterday. She couldn't even

remember what was on page fourteen. To the best of her vivid

recollection, there had not been a single position of the many they

had tried that had not been her favorite at the time. The blasted

book was like Pandora's box. She was certain that looking inside

would release all the demons that resided bottled up inside her.

They'd certainly come close to breaking free when she'd been with

James yesterday. Thank goodness Baroness Lehzen had put in a

timely appearance.

She ignored the part of her that damned the Queen's

confidante to perdition for interrupting a perfectly good tryst, and

said a small prayer of thanks that she'd been able to snatch the book

off of the library floor before a maidservant found it while

cleaning. The last thing she wanted was for the lurid, and very well

done, drawings to come to her father's attention.

Besides, it had not been a tryst. James Marbury had been

attempting to seduce her for his own nefarious purposes.
And doing

a fine job of it
, she admitted with a certain wry chagrin.
And who

kissed who, my dear
? Only he would think to seduce her with a

book! If there was one ploy that might succeed with a bluestocking

like her—

She should have thrown the book away, or tossed it into the

fire. Instead, she'd hidden it beneath her pillow when she returned

to her room yesterday afternoon to change clothes. She'd then

worked so hard to hide her emotional upset from Baroness Lehzen,

and then her father, who talked court politics with her for hours

afterward, that she completely forgot about the book.

She'd remembered that it was beneath her pillow when she

woke up from another restless night this morning, too aware that

she was in the same damask-curtained bed where James had hidden

and spied on her a few nights before. She would not have been

surprised to wake up to find him lying beside her. The sneak.

Perhaps she'd half-expected and half-hoped that he'd pay her

another surreptitious visit. "At least the instruction manual would

have been handy," she murmured now. She made herself look

straight at the face in the mirror. Yes, there was definitely a weak,

dreamy and foolish look about her features right now. "Wanton

slut."

"What's that, my lady?"

Honoria touched a finger to the carefully formed sausage

curls that framed her face. He had always liked to play with her

hair. "I am a very confused woman, Huseby." She was not, she

thought firmly, in the least bit disappointed to have woken up

alone. She was a spinster and proud of it!

But not for long.

Honoria was surprised at the thought, then remembered that

she'd formed a plan to get out of the dire situation her father's

determination had put her in. Of course, that was what she meant.

If she must have a mate, she would choose one who did not arouse