The Unlikely Lady (11 page)

Who was he? Scandal or no, she should know his name before she took off into the drawing room with him. Shouldn't she? “I should like that, Mr.…”

Instead of replying, he took her by the elbow and ushered her toward the drawing room. “As I said. One of the advantages of a masquerade is to be incognito.” He flashed a grin. She could only see a white streak in the blur that was his face but it didn't matter. The man might look like an ogre for all she knew but he
seemed
handsome, indeed, and that was enough to pretend with tonight. And wasn't he correct? One of the advantages of a masquerade
was
to be incognito. She didn't want to give her name either, now that she thought on it. He might have heard the name Jane Lowndes linked to “wallflower” the way “indulgence” was linked to the Prince Regent. Inseparable, those two. If Lord Green pressed her, she would give the name Bunbury, or Wollstonecraft, perhaps. Yes, Miss Wollstonecraft. Perfect. That had been her pretend name at the infamous house party last autumn. For now, she was content remaining entirely anonymous.

Lord Green pushed open the door to the drawing room. The space was dark save for the faint glow coming from one small candle. He left her near the entryway and went to fetch the candle, bringing it back and shutting the door. Hmm. She'd been right about him. He
was
attempting to get her alone with him. She had no experience with such things. What happened next? Would she be forced to slap him? Should she use the words “Unhand me, sir?” or threaten to have her brother call him out?
That
would be scandalous, but perhaps a bit too scandalous. Of course, she didn't have a brother, but he didn't know that. An insignificant detail, really.

“The painting is over here,” Lord Green said, grasping her hand and pulling her gently behind him. Jane nearly gasped at the touch of his warm fingers. Even through her glove she could feel it. Perhaps she didn't have to slap him. Perhaps she didn't have to pretend she had a brother to call him out. Perhaps she could … kiss him. That would be scandalous too. Quite scandalous. The thought made a hot knot unravel in the pit of her belly and somewhere … lower. She took a deep breath and trailed along behind him.

They stopped in front of a large portrait of a man wearing a uniform. At least Jane thought it was a man wearing a uniform. Blobs that looked like epaulets rested on what appeared to be giant red shoulders. The painting was so large, even Jane could make out a bit of it, but she was standing far too close.

“You may have a better feel for it from this vantage point.” She turned at the sound of Lord Green's voice, to see him standing next to a blob she decided must be the settee in the middle of the room. He was looking toward her and the huge portrait.

“If I didn't know better, my lord, I'd say you were trying to lure me over to the settee.”

“You don't know better,” he said in a voice that sounded entirely too charming.

She slowly crossed the wide carpet toward him, her mouth going dry. Would she really do this? Allow this stranger to kiss her if he tried? Was she that daring? That Lady Blue?

She sat, spreading her skirts on the settee, but he smoothed them aside and leaned close. His warm breath smelled of alcohol, but his own scent, a mixture of soap and something that smelled like autumn leaves, left her breathless.

“What if I admitted that I was?” he asked.

Jane's brain was blurry. “Was what?”

“Luring you to the settee.”

“I'd say you succeeded.” She hated the sound of her shaking voice. Bluestocking spinsters never had occasion for their voices to shake. Bluestocking spinsters never had occasion to trade witty jibes with handsome gentlemen—unless her wordplay with Upton counted and that was entirely— Oh, God, there she went thinking of Upton again at a time like this.

She clasped her hands in her lap and concentrated on not breathing too heavily. Was her breath pleasant? Or did the lilacs override that? Oh, the lilacs. She'd forgotten all about the lilacs. The lilacs were working. For heaven's sake. Of all amazing things, a handsome young gentleman was actually flirting with her. Flirting! With her! A thrill shot through her. She'd read about these sorts of things, of course. She took another deep breath and made her decision. This was it. If she handled this correctly, she just might experience her first kiss and get her scandal in one fell swoop. The kiss would be strictly for educational purposes, of course. Nothing more. First she must flirt with him.
Flirt
. Flirt! She couldn't believe it, even as she had the thought.

She leaned closer. “I should warn you, I don't kiss gentlemen whom I've just met and certainly not alone in drawing rooms.”

“I should warn you, I'm quite persuasive … and a very good kisser.”

“Really…?” Her voice was breathy, a mere whisper. “Persuade me, then.”

His lips met hers, dry but firm. What was next? Was this all there was?

Then his mouth opened and slanted across hers, and Jane forgot to breathe. For heaven's sake, what was the man doing? His tongue plummeted between her lips and a shudder racked her body. He tasted like some sort of spicy alcohol. Her fingers went up to tangle in his dark hair. His mask and hers briefly rubbed against each other.

She'd never felt anything like it before. Lust, hot and powerful, shot through her. It must be lust. She'd read about it. Even thought about it if she was being honest, but she'd never experienced it. Never imagined she'd have the opportunity to experience it. His mouth shaped hers and his tongue plunged again. Again. She was mad for him. She wrapped her arms around his strong, warm neck. He pulled her tight against him. His body was all hard muscles and planes and perfectly
male.
His strong, warm hands came up to cup her cheeks, his fingers lightly caressing the sides of her face. He kissed her again and again, not letting go, not stopping. Her lips were swollen, hot, wet. So were other parts … lower parts of her body. His mouth moved off hers and trailed a damp path to her ear. His tongue skimmed over the edge. Her entire body quivered.

“Easy,” he whispered huskily into her ear. “I won't hurt you.”

She didn't reply, only found his mouth again blindly with her own and coaxed his tongue back into contact with hers. She rubbed herself against his thigh, lightly whimpering, wanting to feel more, more, more.

The kisses slowly wound down and became more languorous. His tongue replaced by the feel of his warm, strong lips against hers. He kissed the side of her mouth, once, twice, and pulled himself away. Was he shaking a little?

So was she.

“As much as I'd love to finish what we started,” he said in a voice that was
definitely
shaking, “we should probably get back, my lady.”

All she could do was nod unevenly.

He took a deep breath. “My cousin might be wondering where I've got off to. Lucy's one to come looking.”

Jane's stomach plummeted. She gasped and held her breath.

Oh, my God. I just kissed Upton!

 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Jane gulped. Not only had she just kissed Upton, but she'd liked it! Worse, she was about to kiss him again. Because even though he'd said they should get back, Upton's hands were pulling her back to him, and his mouth found hers again.

She was mindless, thoughtless, as if she were suspended in time, completely unable to stop the whirlwind of lust she'd been swept into.

This is madness. This is madness. This is madness.

She repeated the words to herself over and over, even as she met each of Upton's thrusts with her tongue, and let her fingers tangle in his dark, curly hair again.

Oh, God. Upton was not only handsome and seductive, he was driving her wild with his mouth. How was this happening?

But it's Upton. It's Upton. It's Upton.

Rational thought told her she should push him away immediately, but rational thought was long gone from this room. All she could concentrate on was the feel of his warm hand on her breast and how it intensified the ache between her thighs.

“Tell me to stop,” he demanded against her mouth.

“No,” she answered mindlessly, still cupping his slightly stubbled cheeks in her hands and kissing him back with a fervor that frightened her.

Upton seemed to have no idea who she was, and thank God for that. She'd never live it down in her own mind, regardless. Imagine how much worse it would be if he knew it was she and pushed her away.

Or did he know and was only pretending not to know, as she was? No. That couldn't be true. But how could he not know? It made no sense. At least not until she reminded herself that until two moments ago, she hadn't realized who
he
was. His voice was slurred, that was it. That's why she hadn't recognized it. It had been different from his normal clipped tones. Not to mention the man had obviously been drinking. God knew how much. What in heaven's name was her excuse? At the moment she wished she'd had a swig too.

She'd wanted a scandal? She'd just scandalized herself!

He pulled her under him and lay atop her, his knee riding between her legs, and she was mindless again. His hips pressed against her most intimate spot and his mouth owned hers. The stark evidence of his arousal nudged against her thigh. When his hand came up to touch her breast, a shiver racked her body.

“Easy,” he whispered against her mouth. “I won't do anything you don't want me to.”

“That's the problem.” Her voice trembled.

He laughed a little against her mouth. It was arousing. Arousing? Upton? Oh, God, what was happening to her? She had turned into a mindless, lust-crazed beast.

His thumb lightly pressed against her nipple through the stiff fabric of her gown, and Jane's head rolled back. His lips found the pulse in her neck, and she moaned deep in her throat. “You're gorgeous,” he whispered. “Let me remove your mask.”

“No!” With strength she didn't know she possessed, Jane shoved him away and pulled herself from under him. She scrambled to the far end of the settee and sat there, staring at him no doubt with wild eyes, still panting from his kisses.

“My apologies,” he said, still breathing heavily himself. “I didn't mean to— You don't have to take off your mask if you don't want to.”

Jane winced. Her response had been nearly involuntary, but she should have thought it through a bit more. Surely her wild reaction would make him wonder why she was so adamant about keeping her mask in place.

“No, no,” she hurried to reassure him. “It's not that … It's just that…”

“I frightened you, didn't I?”

“Yes.” She nodded. Truly, she'd scared herself, but he didn't need to know that. Right now, now that she was on the other side of the settee, and a modicum of common sense and decency was returning to her brain, she needed to concentrate on getting out of this room quickly and with as little interaction between the two of them as possible. The more she spoke, the more she did anything, the greater the chances of him discovering her identity.
That
she could not live with. She would have to move to India, perhaps farther, to live this down if Upton ever discovered who she was and what he'd just done.

She'd have to find another scandal. Not this one. This one wouldn't do at all.

“I'm sorry, my lady,” he said, and Jane heard a tinge of true regret in his voice. “I couldn't control myself. It's entirely unforgivable and I—”

“There were two of us here tonight,” she answered, lowering her voice in a desperate effort to disguise it. “Neither is more at fault. But it's true, we should get back.” She took another deep, shaky breath. “Right away.”

He stood, adjusted his clothing, and held out his hand toward her. “Allow me to help you up.”

God help her, she took it. Perhaps it was the part of her that wanted to enjoy this last moment of scandalous behavior. Perhaps it was the part of her that knew something like this would never happen again. Perhaps it was the part of her that knew that Upton, when he knew who she was, would never be this kind, considerate, and solicitous of her. That was the part that made her feel a little sad for a reason she couldn't describe.

Instead, she took his hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet. Before she could turn to go, he pulled her into his arms one last time and placed a warm kiss on her cheek. “To an evening I'll never forget, Lady Blue.”

Jane's throat inexplicably tightened. She couldn't answer.

She didn't have to. The click of the door handle across the room had them both spinning toward it.

“What was that?” Jane asked, her eyes as wide as an owl's.

“I didn't see anyone,” Upton replied. “But let's hope if someone was there, that they didn't see us.”

Jane pressed her fist against her mouth. “Or if they did, they didn't know who we were.”

 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Jane awoke to a pounding head. She had tossed and turned for what felt like hours before sleep finally overtook her. She'd awakened every bit as full of nerves and doubt. What in heaven's name had she been thinking last night? She'd
known
it was Upton. Known it! Perhaps not the entire time, but long enough to make it reprehensible that she hadn't stopped kissing him. Which was more than she could say for him. He'd clearly thought she'd been some mystery harlot, but she'd discovered who he was and she'd
still
allowed him to kiss her.

She had no excuse. Absolutely none. The worst part was, she could only hope Upton wouldn't put it together and realize he'd been passionate with
her.

What was her excuse? Could she blame it on the lack of spectacles? Obviously that had played a part in her not recognizing him sooner. Was it the gown? The lilac perfume? Blast and damn that lilac perfume. It had attracted a gentleman all right, but the entirely wrong one. Not that there was a right one, but that was hardly the point.