Authors: Enticed
He went outside when he heard the carriage approach, bringing Barbara and Kitty home for the holidays. Barbara flung herself upon him in the usual manner whenever they had been separated. She was full of chatter, telling him everything with her first breath. He heaved a sigh of relief as she ran into the house to greet Mrs. Thomson. Then there was only Kitty. Their eyes met and held, he reached for her hands and she alighted from the carriage in a dreamlike trance. Neither spoke, but drank in each other with their eyes as if they would never have enough. Slowly he drew her to him and bent to take her lips. She opened her mouth to say something, but he stopped the words with his lips, and her breath became a sigh.
“I missed you so,” he whispered.
Then they were sitting around the roaring fire, laughing, telling stories, drinking warm mulled wine. Barbara rattled on, oblivious of the lingering glances Kitty and Patrick were exchanging.
“At first the girls were such snobs, you wouldn’t believe it, but Kitty made up such outrageous stories, she was treated like the Princess Royal and we were the most popular girls at school.”
“It’s good to have you home. The house will be lonely when you return,” he said meaningfully, his eyes on Kitty.
Kitty looked at Barbara. “You might as well tell him, Barbara. He’ll find out sooner or later anyway.”
Barbara handed him a letter from the headmistress, which he took and read carefully. It was couched in polite euphemisms, but it boiled down to the fact they they could not return to school because of their disruptive influence on the other girls. Barbara was relieved to see the corner of Patrick’s mouth quiver. He looked up. “Well, imps, what was it got you expelled?”
Barbara spoke up quickly, proving the old adage that when under stress, women confess. “I don’t know exactly if it was Kitty’s Gypsy dances—they’re really quite shocking, you know—or if it was her stories about her devastatingly handsome lover who ravished her.”
Kitty gasped and said, “Barbara, how could you?” and ran from the room.
Barbara looked at Patrick in bewilderment. “Well, really, he was only imaginary. I thought those stories wouldn’t make you nearly so angry as the time we dressed up as boys and then got locked out all night.”
“Where the devil did you sleep?” Patrick was angry despite his resolve not to be.
“In the stables, of course,” said Barbara matter-of-factly.
“And to think you used to be a little milk-and-water miss who was afraid of her own shadow.”
“Yes, and got bullied for it too! Since I decided to be more like you and Julia, I’ve enjoyed myself immensely!”
“Tell Kitty to come downstairs immediately. No, take this note up to her.” He scribbled on a piece of paper.
Kitty dabbed her eyes and read the note: “Lady Jane Tut: I can see there is no necessity to return to school. You are more polished and refined than I ever dared hope. Signed: Lord Muck.”
Kitty laughed in spite of herself but wouldn’t show the
note to Barbara. The girls came back downstairs and Patrick informed them of his plans. “Seeing you don’t have to go back to school, we might as well go down to Julia’s. I have to see Samuel Haynsworth tomorrow, but after that I have business in London. We can pick up Terry on the way and take him with us for Christmas.” Barbara blushed furiously and Patrick said lightly, “These Rooneys are the very devil, aren’t they?”
Patrick went out to Rose Bank to see Samuel Haynsworth. Patrick received the grand tour, not only of the house, but also of the bleachworks. Haynsworth looked sideways at Patrick and said, “Whoever marries my daughter will have half interest in all this!”
“A full partnership? What about your son, Sam?”
“No interest in the business whatsoever. Besides, he got all his mother’s money when she passed away. I’ll need someone to leave all this to, so I’ve decided it will be my daughter and my son-in-law—when I get one, that is.” He coughed discreetly.
Patrick was left in no doubt as to whom Samuel Haynsworth had in mind and he decided it was worth careful consideration.
When they arrived at Julia’s in Cadogen Square, Yuletide preparations were in full swing. Patrick had no doubt about what he wanted for Christmas. He made plans immediately for a private rendezvous and was more excited than he ever remembered, even as a boy.
Kitty too was more excited than she had been in years. She was filled with anticipation for what Christmas and the New Year would bring. She had a feeling in her very bones that one phase of her life was about to end and a new one begin. Patrick had rescued her from a life of drudgery and had
nursed her back to her full vitality. He had even paid to send her to a young ladies’ finishing school so that she would be an acceptable wife. Though at first he had behaved very circumspectly with her, now he made no secret of the fact he was irresistibly attracted to her. Whenever their hands touched accidentally, heat leaped between them. When he looked at her he became smoky-eyed, then his pupils would turn black with desire.
Though it made her blush furiously, she knew he became physically aroused whenever he came close to her. Now that she was older it didn’t frighten her, it made her breathless with excitement. She often caught him gazing at her mouth or her breasts and longed for the moment he would crush her lips in a demanding kiss. When he spoke to her his voice became husky with need.
Kitty imagined she was in a worse state than Patrick. She hungered for him. When he came close her pulse speeded up erratically, her breath became faint and jerky and her throat went dry. His faintest touch turned her skin to ice, then fire, and filled her with delicious tremors. When she spoke to him her voice became low and whispery and she loved to watch the devastating effect this had on him. She knew he couldn’t possibly wait much longer.
Patrick invited Kitty to dine with him on Christmas Eve at Clifford’s Inn, Fleet Street. The moment she stepped into the closed carriage with him she knew the time had finally arrived. It was small and private and heart-stoppingly intimate inside as Patrick took the lid off a large box and shook out a silver fox cape.
“Here’s one of your Christmas presents, darling,” he murmured, holding it out for her.
“Oooh,” she cried with delight, removing her dark wool cloak. Then she slipped into the fur he held out and allowed him to wrap it about her. Womanlike she blew upon the fur to
admire its thickness and rubbed her cheek against it sensually.
Patrick hardened instantly. For several moments he throbbed savagely as his hot blood surged into his shaft until he thought he would explode. He felt a driving desire to strip her naked, lay her back upon the fur and take her right here in the carriage. With an iron will he tamped down his scalding desire. If she even guessed the things he wanted to do with her, she would bolt from the carriage.
Patrick removed his arms from her and moved back across the seat. He did not dare to leave his hands on her or he would lose control.
Kitty could not hide her joy from him. “Thank you, Patrick,” she whispered and gave him a radiant smile.
Clifford’s Inn was a small, elegant hotel and Kitty was enchanted with the Christmas tree decorated with feathered quail, sleigh bells, tartan bows and glass balls hand-painted with bird scenes. Her eyes shone with expectancy in the flickering candlelight.
“Have I told you how beautiful you are tonight?” She smiled and shook her head. The other diners could feel the current of their mutual attraction. His loins were melting with longing, and his deep desire for her showed to everyone. After the meal he took her hand and led her upstairs. He unlocked the door to a beautiful set of rooms. The walls were paneled, the floor covered in a Turkey red carpet and there was a magnificent hand-carved fireplace filled with blazing logs.
“I reserved the bridal suite for us,” he said, closing the door and slipping his arms about her.
She looked up at him joyously. “For tonight?” Praise God, they were going to be married tonight! Her arms lifted about his neck and as he swung her about, the silver fur slithered to the floor. He bent his dark head to capture her
lips. Beneath his, her mouth softened and parted and she recalled with amusement how shocked she had been when he had first touched her with this wicked tongue.
Patrick swept her up in his arms, then moved toward a comfortable chair before the fire. He cuddled her on his lap as his lips brushed the tempting black tendrils at her temple.
Kitty sighed deeply; she had everything she had ever needed for happiness: a full belly, a warm fire and Patrick John Francis O’Reilly. She traced her finger along a heavy black eyebrow, then brought it down to follow the slant of his arrogant jaw. She didn’t know if she loved him in spite of his faults or because of them, she only knew that she loved him with every fiber of her being. She was dizzy with love. When her finger lovingly traced his top lip, Patrick bit it playfully. She immediately lifted his hand to her mouth and bit one of his fingers in return. “If you hurt me, I’ll hurt you back,” she said wickedly and Patrick groaned at the fierce arousal she always produced in him.
He knew he must go about his seduction with a little more finesse than last time. Though he was ravenous for her, he knew he must starve a little longer while he kindled her desire and fanned the flame until she was white-hot. One hand caressed her shoulder as the other stole to her breast. He heard her swift intake of breath that told him his touch gave her pleasure.
Kitty could feel Patrick’s manhood, hot and hard, beneath her buttocks. She knew now that sex was primal, elemental and above all natural between lovers who were insatiably attracted to each other. With a knowledge as old as Eve’s, she knew she was ready for this man to make love to her. The sensations he aroused were delicious as she clung to him, heady with the smell of his man-scented skin.
Patrick’s fingers began to undo the fastenings of her dress.
Kitty kissed him and stayed his avid hands. “Darling, you mustn’t undress me until after the chaplain’s been.”
“Chaplain?” he murmured huskily.
“Aren’t we being married tonight?” she asked faintly.
“Married? I should hope not! Where would the fun be in that?” He saw a pulse beating in her throat and put his lips to the spot. “When I marry, it will be for convenience, to some respectable daughter of society who will be tied to the household and children. I don’t want to spoil your body with babies, Kitty. I want you all to myself, free to come to France with me and to America next time I sail.”
She felt like she had been doused with a bucket of cold water. “I won’t! I can’t! Take me home!” Kitty’s Irish was up. Her eyes glittered dangerously. “If you touch me, I swear I’ll kill you!”
“Stop playing games with me, Kitty. I’m not blind. You want me every bit as much as I want you.” He moved cautiously to the right to block the door. “Darling, you’ll have all my respect and honor and anything else you want.” He touched her cheek longingly. “Let me spoil you.”
Her eyes narrowed with fury. “You’ve already spoiled me! Or to use correct English, I should say despoiled!”
Goddamn and blast everything, it was happening again. Patrick hung onto his temper. He tried a new tack. He’d never begged a woman before in his life. Now he did. “Kitty, darling, yield to me. I swear I’ll give you anything …
anything
!”
“Give me a wedding,” she said stubbornly.
“I’ll give you
anything
but that, I promise.”
“Patrick O’Reilly, you’ve got a blind spot when it comes to marrying me. I’ll swear you lace-curtain Irish are the most bigoted sods on earth, but you’re worse than most. Even your father had the decency to ask me to marry him.”
“My father?” questioned Patrick, angry now.
Kitty ignored the subject. “Ever since you brought me out of Ireland I’ve been branded with poverty, charity and humiliation and they are burns that never come out!” she shouted.
“What the hell do you want, wench?” His temper was completely gone now.
“I won’t be your paid whore! I want a respectable marriage!” she cried.
His eyes smoldered and he sneered, “In that case we’d better look about us for a suitable husband for you.”
The silence remained unbroken on the carriage ride back to Cadogen Square. The face that she loved above all others had a closed look that she could not penetrate.
After that, they avoided each other as much as possible, but when they were forced together because of the Christmas celebrations, they were dangerously polite to each other.
Julia had been planning a New Year’s Eve ball for some time and she was delighted that Patrick would be there for it.
“I hope you have invited some eligible young men for Kitty and me,” said Barbara hopefully.
“There will be plenty of young men, but I don’t know anyone who would be willing to marry a penniless girl like Kitty,” scoffed Julia.
“Why, Julia, Kitty is very beautiful and I was reading of the Gunning sisters only the other day. When their mother brought them out of Ireland they were so desperately poor they had only one fancy dress between the two of them and only one at a time could go out. Elizabeth was so beautiful the Duke of Hamilton eloped with her after knowing her for only a month.”
Patrick looked up from his morning paper and said dryly, “He was a notorious drunkard who gave her two children in quick succession and made her life hell.” Barbara lifted her chin and said, “But that’s the best part. He drank himself to death at thirty-three and Elizabeth immediately married the
fifth Duke of Argyll. Maria did even better; she married an earl.”
Julia retorted, “Romantic nonsense! Kitty will get plenty of offers, but they won’t be for marriage.”
Patrick was nettled enough to reply, “You’re very catty, Julia. I happen to know Kitty could have been your stepmother! If she’d married Father he would likely have left her everything and you would have been disinherited.”
Both girls were left with their mouths open.
Julia had invited a crush of her friends, and all Jeffrey’s relatives were there. Kitty was deluged with invitations to dance and the moment the music stopped she was surrounded by men. Her eyes often sought out Patrick, who was never at a loss for female admirers. The young ones hung about him, giving him shy glances and blushing furiously when he spoke, but the older, married women vied with each other for his attention. They sent him bold invitations with their eyes and bodies and didn’t even bother to conceal their blatant desire.