His companions--Cavendish, Coventry, and Orford-- decided that they preferred to go to Almack's, which was close by, where they would find the young ladies to whom they were paying court. "I visited Almack's last week. Once per Season is all I am prepared to endure," Hamilton drawled. The four men departed White's together; Hamilton signaled his carriage, while the other three walked down St. James's Street toward Pall Mall.
When Hamilton climbed from his carriage in the Strand, he immediately recognized John Gunning entering the Divan Club. He had played cards with Gunning on two separate occasions before and knew him to be an inveterate gambler, as he himself was. Hamilton checked his watch then had a quiet word with his driver, who acted as henchman as well as coachman. As he entered the club, Hamilton smiled. It would be a simple matter to allow Gunning to win against him for the next two hours.
Before midnight, Elizabeth told Emma that she could go to bed. She assured the maid that when Maria came home, she would help her remove her ball gown and makeup. Then Elizabeth sat down to sew some silk roses on the _décolletage_ of Maria's white evening dress. Around two o'clock, when she heard the front door open downstairs, she assumed it was her mother and Maria returning from Almack's.
Elizabeth set her sewing aside and went to the top of the stairs. "Father!" Her hand flew to her throat as she saw the bright red blood on his white evening shirt. Jack Gunning was being helped through the door by another man. She was halfway down the stairs when the man looked up at her and she saw that it was the Duke of Hamilton. "Your Grace! Whatever happened?" she cried, alarmed that her beloved father had been injured.
"I'll be all right, Elizabeth. Go to bed, my dear."
"I shan't go to bed! You have been hurt!"
"Let's get you upstairs, Jack." Hamilton explained, "When he left a gaming club, he was set upon for his winnings, Mistress Gunning. Fortunately I saw it happen. When I drew my sword, the thief fled into the night." He drew Jack's arm over his shoulder and half carried him up the staircase.
Elizabeth, white-faced with anxiety, indicated her parents' chamber. "Let me look at the wound," she insisted when Jack sat down on the end of the bed.
"I shall tend him, Mistress Gunning. It will be far too distressing for a young lady of tender years and sensibilities."
"Elizabeth's a brave girl, James. She won't faint."
The fact that these two men were on a first-name basis did make her feel faint. She gently parted the fair hair on the back of her father's head and saw a nasty gash. She didn't think it was too deep, however, for it had already crusted over and stopped bleeding. "Thank heaven, it isn't a sword wound." She felt weak with relief. "I'll get some water to clean it."
She came back in less than a minute with water and towels.
"The thug used a billy-cosh." Jack touched his head gingerly. "Knocked me senseless for a moment and felled me to my knees."
The duke produced a silver flask. "Take a few swallows of brandy." Hamilton's tone was fatherly, "Allow me, my dear. You hold the water." She watched in amazement as the duke dipped the end of the towel into the water, gently cleansed the wound, then wiped the dried blood from the blond hair. "You were lucky, Jack. By tomorrow only a headache will remind you of your close call."
"Lucky that you were there to aid, Your Grace." Elizabeth was overwhelmed with relief and gratitude. This was the second time that the Duke of Hamilton had come to the Gunnings' rescue. Her cheeks flushed, remembering how ungracious she had felt toward him at the theater. "I thank you from the bottom of my heart for helping my father, Your Grace."
"Think nothing of it, I pray, Mistress Gunning."
She led the way down the stairs, again smiled her gratitude, and bade him good night. Then she ran back upstairs to her father. "Let me help you to bed, then I'll soak the bloodstains from your shirt before Mother sees them." She spotted a small leather pouch on the tallboy. "What's this?"
Jack frowned, then winced. "Hamilton must have left it."
Elizabeth picked it up. "It's filled with gold sovereigns!"
"Well, I'll be damned. In his great generosity, Hamilton has replaced my winnings that were stolen!"
Elizabeth was filled with remorse. She had completely misjudged His Grace, the Duke of Hamilton.
Early Saturday morning, when the Burlington carriage arrived to pick up the Gunning sisters, Charlie's mount was tethered at the rear, with a groom to tend it. Jack brought Cavalier from the stable and made sure he was safely secured beside the other horse. By this time, the luggage had been stowed, and Emma ushered her charges inside the coach and sat down beside Lady Charlotte's maid.
"How is your ankle? I missed you so much at Almack's!"
"It was nothing, Charlie. The swelling was gone in hours."
"Did you receive an invitation to the royal drawing room at St. James's Palace?" Maria only asked to show that she had one.
"Yes." Charlie wrinkled her nose. "Unfortunately, royal invitations cannot be refused without giving offense."
"Why would anyone, with any sense, want to refuse?" Maria asked. "I imagine I was invited at the insistence of Prince George. He couldn't take his eyes from me at Devonshire House."
"Prince George is extremely precocious for his age; he's only thirteen," Charlie said from the lofty heights of sixteen.
"He turned fourteen," Maria informed her, "and he is quite physically mature. Whoever marries him will become a royal princess," Maria added dreamily.
"Whoever marries him will already be a royal princess," Charlie pointed out. "A Prince of the Realm can only marry royalty."
"Rules can always be broken," Maria said haughtily.
Charlie laughed. "I _know _... let's break some this weekend!"
When the carriage arrived at Oxted Hall, Will Cavendish helped Charlotte from the carriage, kept hold of both her hands, and drew her close. His lips brushed her temple. "I couldn't wait."
Charlie gazed up at him with stars in her eyes.
Rachel Cavendish, acting as official hostess for the weekend, welcomed the sisters. "Elizabeth, I've put you with Charlotte again, and Maria, you may--"
"Have a chamber to myself, since you have so many bedrooms?"
"Why, of course, if that's what you would prefer."
Elizabeth glanced at Charlie and Will, who only had eyes for each other. He was untethering the horses. "I'll see that our things get to our bedchamber. You take the horses to the stable."
She gazed up at the house that was more mansion than country manor, then caught up with Maria and Rachel.
"Why are Devonshire houses bigger and better than others?" Maria asked artlessly.
Rachel laughed. "Actually, this isn't a Devonshire house at all. Mother was Catherine Hoskyns and this Tudor house belonged to her parents. My late grandfather was known as Miser Hoskyns."
She turned to address Jane and Emma, who followed with the luggage. "I've put you two together in our servants' wing. You will do your utmost to be invisible this weekend, I trust?"
Elizabeth stopped Emma from unpacking. "I can hang my own clothes in the wardrobe. You go along and help Maria. I'm sorry Lady Rachel spoke to you like that."
"Most ladies speak to servants like that, and your mother and sister are no exception. But I don't mind making myself invisible. Jane and I will enjoy a quiet weekend with no duties."
When Elizabeth was alone she unpacked then washed her hands and face. As she looked in the mirror to brush her hair, she saw that her own eyes sparkled like stars and knew that with every moment her excitement grew. The anticipation of seeing John sent her blood singing in her veins. _Is this what it feels like to be in love_? Suddenly, she was filled with apprehension. _What if he doesn't come_? She banished the thought and smiled her secret smile. _John will come. He wants to take me to Sundridge_.
Meanwhile, Maria gave Emma her orders. "Don't tell Mother I had a chamber all to myself. In fact, don't tell her anything. She thinks that Lords of the Realm are attracted to virtuous ladies, but nothing cou
ld be further from the truth in my experience. If you keep your mouth shut, I'll get Coventry to make it worth your while again."
She slipped the door key into her reticule, departed her room, and deliberately took a wrong turn to explore the east wing. Norwich, Earl of Coventry, walking down the hall, saw her immediately.
"Maria, you came!" His relief was transparent.
"George!" She touched her hair to draw his attention to it. "Emma was able to secure me a chamber to myself." She showed him the key and saw his eyes dilate. "If you give her an extra reward, perhaps I'll do the same for you." Smugly, she watched his body react to her suggestive words.
Elizabeth gave Charlie and Will time to be alone then went down to the stables to make sure Cavalier had been fed and watered. She looked at the horses carefully to see if John's Demon occupied any of the stalls. When she didn't spot him, she wondered anxiously what was taking John so long.
Will welcomed her to Oxted. "I'm not a very good host, but I know that you of all ladies understand my inattention." His possessive arm anchored Charlie to his side. "Good, John's here!"
Elizabeth spun around, her face lit with a radiant smile. When his eyes sought her before his friend, her heart filled with joy.
He dismounted, led Demon into a clean stall, then strode to her side and handed her a small branch that sported three large leaves and small greenish-yellow fruit that looked like tiny artichokes. "Ripe hops. I had to get the crop in before it rained."
"They have a strong aroma, but it's quite pleasant."
"I think so, but I am biased because I grow them."
"You have a proclivity for them," she said breathlessly.
"I have a proclivity for you, Elizabeth." He dipped his head and stole a quick kiss before Will and Charlie strolled over.
"We could go for a walk in the woods before lunch to escape the tennis and shuttlecock games my sisters have planned," Will said.
"Oh, Will, I adore shuttlecock!" Charlie exclaimed. John gave Elizabeth a rueful glance, much preferring a secluded walk in woods ablaze with autumn colors.
She smiled shyly. "I'd like to watch you play tennis."
Will waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Not as much as we'll enjoy watching you ladies play shuttlecock."
Charlie gave him an affectionate shove, and it dawned on Elizabeth that he was hinting that their breasts would bounce.
When the two couples arrived at the house, Rachel and Cat, their arms filled with racquets, balls, and feathered shuttlecocks, were greeting another couple who had just arrived.
"Ladies, this is my brother, Charles, and his lovely wife, Margaret. May I present Mistress Elizabeth Gunning and Lady Charlotte Boyle?"
Lord Charles Cavendish bowed. "Mistress Gunning, I believe we are neighbors in Great Marlborough Street
. Lady Charlotte, I haven't seen you since you were a child."
"She's little more than a child now," Lady Margaret said archly.
Elizabeth saw Will clench his fists at the uncalled for remark but his sisters quickly deflected further remarks by handing each lady a racquet. "C'mon, we're off to the court!"
Maria Gunning refused to play, pretending she was the one who had hurt her ankle a few days ago. So Rachel, Cat, and Margaret Cavendish were pitted against Charlie, Elizabeth, and Harriet Ponsonby. As a child, Elizabeth had played with a shuttlecock, but she had never been in a match with partners and rules. Nevertheless, she was willing to give it a try. When the game began, she was rather inept, but it didn't really matter. Charlie played like a fiend, returning the bird every single time it came on their side of the net. Soon the men were rooting for her, and when she soundly trounced Lady Margaret and her partners, a great cheer went up. Will and John hoisted Charlie onto their shoulders and gave the laughing, blushing girl a victory parade.
When the men played tennis, Will and John easily beat Charles and Orford. Elizabeth never took her eyes from John Campbell. He had the lithe speed of an athlete, combined with the strength and power of a military warrior. In every way she found him to be head and shoulders above every other male of her acquaintance and she knew without a shadow of a doubt that he was her heart's desire.
Lunch wasn't served until one o'clock and lasted more than an hour and a half. John, impatient to be alone with Elizabeth, held her hand beneath the table. Finally, he could wait no longer for her answer. "You will ride with me to Sundridge?"
She lifted her lashes and looked into his eyes. "You know I will. I'll go up now and change."
John rose to his feet, and Will followed suit. "My duties as host may be remiss, but Charlie and I are going for a ride before the rain comes."
Upstairs, Elizabeth changed into the jade riding habit. "I'm going to Sundridge to see John's home. I know it's not proper, Charlie, but I don't care!" _Sin now; beg forgiveness later_. The thought stole her breath and made her dizzy with excitement. She looked in the mirror and decided to wear one of her beauty patches. She carefully placed a tiny black heart beside her eye on the tip of her cheekbone. "What do you think?"
"Very seductive!" Charlie grinned mischievously. "He won't stand a chance. May I have one?"
They walked down to the stables together, where the men had already saddled the horses and stood awaiting them. John set his hands to Elizabeth's waist and lifted her into the sidesaddle. The moment he touched her, threads of fire spiraled from her belly into her breasts, and the mingled scent of leather, hops, horse, and male animal filled her senses.
"The moment we are out of sight, I intend to take you up before me on Demon." His murmured promise set her nerves ashiver.
Side by side, they rode directly east toward threatening clouds. Before they had galloped a quarter mile, John drew rein and dismounted. "It's only four miles--far too short a distance to have you in my arms." He lifted her from Cavalier and fastened him to his own saddle with a long leading rein. Then he remounted, leaned down, and with sheer brute strength, picked her up and set her between his thighs. "Have I told you today that you are the loveliest woman on earth?"
"No," she said breathlessly.
"You are the loveliest woman on earth, Elizabeth Gunning."
_It isn't true, but you make me feel like the loveliest._
John touched his heels to Demon and settled him into a rhythmic, slow gallop. He was acutely aware of Elizabeth and the delicate scent from her warm body aroused him instantly. He shifted slightly in the saddle to ease the pressure of his swollen cock as it bulged the whipcord of his fawn riding breeches. As she reclined against his body he became aware of how small she was. Desire pulsed at his groin with a sweet, almost unendurable ache. The heat from her body mingled with the heat between his thighs, turning him marble hard in a delicious agony of need. A long tendril of her beautiful golden hair brushed against his face, making him quiver.
Suddenly, big raindrops splashed down onto their faces. He quickly gauged that they were closer to Oxted Hall than they were to Combe Bank. "Do you want to go back?" he offered gallantly.
She looked up at him with raindrops glistening on her eyelashes. "Of course not. 'Tis unlucky to turn back."
"I don't want to shelter beneath the trees in case it lightens." No sooner did he speak than a zigzag of lightning lit the darkening sky. He set his spurs to Demon and they thundered into Kent where the air was redolent with the strong fragrance of hops.
By the time they arrived at Combe Bank Manor, they were drenched to the skin. He dismounted and led the horses into the stables where he told a groom, "They need a good rubdown."
He lifted Elizabeth from Demon, set his lips to her ear, and murmured wickedly, "Us too!" Then hand clasped and laughing like children, they made a mad dash from the stables to the manor house.
Inside, the great hall had thick beams, a massive stone fireplace and polished, black oak floors. The air was fragrant with lavender beeswax and masses of yellow lilies that overflowed from Chinese porcelain jars. "Oh, John, it is so lovely!" She moved toward the welcoming fire, bu
t his words stayed her.
"I'll light you a fire upstairs. Come." He held out his hand and trustingly, without hesitation, she curled her fingers into his.
They laughed at the puddles they left on each stair, reveling in irresponsibility, as they cast off all care. All that mattered to them at this moment was that they were together. Together alone.
He led her into a spacious bedchamber with a red Turkish carpet and a white marble fireplace. He knelt down and lit the fire that was already laid. "Wait right here," he ordered then disappeared through a connecting door that led into another chamber.
Elizabeth's glance traveled around the room, noticing the padded window seats beneath the mullioned panes and the wide bed hung with wine-red velvet curtains. John returned carrying a thick white towel and a black bedrobe. "Get that wet riding habit off and put this on. The fire will give off heat in a minute or two." He went back into the adjoining chamber and pulled the door so that it was almost closed, but not quite.
As quickly as she could, Elizabeth removed the jade green habit and hung it to dry over the brass fender. Slightly dismayed, she realized that her petticoat and underclothes were soaked also. She stripped them off and slipped on the huge black velvet robe, then wrapped the towel, turban-fashion, about her wet hair. She removed her riding boots but hesitated to set them on the costly white marble hearth without asking permission. On stockinged feet she padded toward the adjoining door and pushed it open. "John--"
She saw him kneeling before the fireplace, lighting his own fire. He was stark naked. "Oh ... I'm so sorry!"
He stood up, turned, and looked at her. "I'm not."
She stood rooted to the spot as slowly, deliberately, he walked a direct path to her.
*Chapter Thirteen*