“Georgiana.”
The single word, uttered in the most compelling of tones, stopped her before the marble hearth. Recognising the futility of attempting evasion, Georgiana turned slowly to meet him. He was closer than she had realised. She found herself enfolded in his arms, like delicate porcelain. Looking up, she felt her eyelids automatically drop as his head lowered to hers and he kissed her, so gently that the caress captivated her senses. This time, the kiss did not end, but went on to steal her breath, and her wits. Her nervousness disappeared, chased away by the warm glow of desire which spread insidiously through her veins. In response to some inner prompting, she slipped her arms free of his hold and twined them about his neck. His lips firmed against hers, until she parted her lips in welcome and, by imperceptible degrees, the kiss deepened.
Suddenly her mind, all alive to every incoming sensation, registered the restraint in his body, the tightness in the muscles holding her so gently, the iron control which stopped him from crushing her to him. She moved closer, letting her body press, soft but firm, against his.
Dominic stiffened with the effort to hold his passions in check. He raised his head to look down into her face. In surprise, he viewed hazel eyes smoky with desire, lips parted slightly in flagrant temptation. The siren he had glimpsed in the Massinghams’ library stood within the circle of his arms, her body pliant against his. And it was all he could do to draw breath and, his voice husky, demand, “Marry me, Georgiana.”
His words slowly penetrated the fog of desire which swirled through Georgiana’s mind. They made no sense. Nothing made any sense any more. He had the Place. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. Georgiana ignored his talk and, instead, tightened her hold on him, forcing his lips back to hers.
With a groan, Dominic recognised her state. But he was powerless to resist her blatant demands. His lips closed on hers and he tried very hard to think of other things—anything other than the slim form snuggling so invitingly against him. His plan of gentle wooing had not taken into account the possibility of such responses on her part. In the dim hope that her mind would return presently if he kept their lovemaking in a frustratingly light vein, he rained gentle kisses on her lips and face, ignoring her attempts to ensnare him in a deeper caress. Gradually her flaring passion abated somewhat—enough, at least, for him to try again.
“Georgiana?”
“Mmm.” She moved seductively against him, and he caught his breath.
“Marry me, love. Say yes. Now.”
“Y… What?” Abruptly Georgiana’s eyes focused. Slowly her mind followed. Then, still dazed, she shook her head.
To her amazement, she found herself looking up into eyes darkened with desire but lit by underlying sparks of anger.
“I do hope, my love, that you are not going to tell me you won’t marry me.”
The clipped accents sobered her. The warmth of his arms still surrounded her, making it difficult to think. Her hands on his shoulders, Georgiana tried to ease from his embrace, only to find the arms holding her so gently were, in fact, made of steel. “I can’t think,” she murmured protestingly.
“Don’t think,” came his voice, so close that his breath caressed her cheek. “Just say yes.”
Again she shook her head, not daring to meet his eyes. Unequal to this battle, she leant her forehead against his shoulder. She felt his arms come up to draw her closer against him, his solid warmth comforting rather than threatening. Ridiculous, she thought, to feel so wholly at peace in the arms of a man who did not love her.
“Why?”
The question drifted softly, a murmur in her mind.
“Because you don’t love me.” She answered aloud without realising it.
“What?”
Abruptly he held her from him, staring at her in stunned disbelief. His eyes searched her face, then his lips twitched. Closing his eyes in exasperation, Dominic drew her head back until it was once again pillowed on his shoulder.
Georgiana snuggled against him, still dazed from his kisses, still wanting more, but not, at this juncture, daring to tempt him further. His insistence on marriage baffled her. Her own responses confused her even more. How wanton she became, with him.
Dominic waited until he had regained some measure of control over his reeling senses before asking, in a perfectly amiable tone, “Do you think, my love, you could explain to me why you think I don’t love you?”
The effort required to return their interaction to an acceptable footing was entirely beyond Georgiana. She contemplated attempting to retreat without explaining herself, but doubted she had the strength to win free of his arms, let alone his presence. So when his lips found her ear and nuzzled gently, inviting her confidence, she sighed and said, “You don’t really love me, you only say you do. I saw you kiss Lady Changley once. You never kiss me like that.”
Put into words, it did not sound particularly rational, but it was the best she could do, with him so close.
Silence greeted her revelation. After a moment she glanced up to find him regarding her, an odd expression in his eyes.
“Do you mean to say that that is why you’ve held me off for so long? Because I didn’t kiss you the way I did Lady Changley?”
His voice sounded strangled. Georgiana looked up at him in concern. When she neglected to answer, he shook her slightly. She nodded.
A groan rewarded her honesty. “Georgiana!”
Then she was swept into his arms and ruthlessly kissed, passionately kissed, until her legs collapsed under her and she had to cling to him for support. And still the kiss went on, demanding, commanding and utterly devastating. When at long last she was allowed to emerge, she was shaken to the very depths of her being.
“Oh!”
It was all she could say. She looked up at him, love, joy and wonder dancing in the golden flames of her eyes.
With a wordless groan, Dominic crushed her to him once more, burying his face in her silken curls.
“But why?” asked a dazzled Georgiana. “Dominic, why didn’t you kiss me like that before?”
To her amazement, she felt his shoulders shake.
Dominic could contain his laughter no longer. And, although his love struggled in his embrace, he held her tightly until he felt rather less crazed and more capable of answering her sanely. Only then did he ease his hold enough to allow her to look up into his face.
Reassured at seeing her own love reflected in his blue eyes—eyes which held warmth and gentle affection as well as the passion she had not recognised before—Georgiana smiled and waited patiently.
Drawing a deep breath, Dominic sought for words to explain how her innocence had tripped him up yet again. “I was most careful, I’ll have you know, not to expose you to my desire, because my sweetest love, it is generally held that innocent young ladies are not—er—sufficiently robust to withstand such raw passions.”
The incredulous widening of his love’s innocent stare nearly had him in stitches again.
“Aren’t I supposed to like…? No, that can’t be true.”
Dominic was nuzzling her ear again. “I assure you it is,” he murmured. “If I’d kissed any of the gentle debs as I’ve just kissed you, seven out of ten would faint dead away and the other three would have had the vapours.”
Georgiana giggled.
Then she felt the arms around her shift slightly and one strong hand found her chin, tilting it up so that he could gaze into her eyes, his own burning again with the dark lights she now understood. A sensuous shiver ran through her.
A slow and infinitely wicked smile curved Dominic’s lips. When he spoke, his voice was husky and deep. “Enough of the rest of this crazy world. Come, let me see if I can convince you of just how irrevocably I love you.”
His lips closed over hers, and Georgiana, swept away on a tide of passion, gave herself up wholeheartedly to that enterprise.
“Ahem!”
The discreet cough from the doorway brought Dominic’s head up. “What the devil?
” Frowning direfully, he turned his head and located the intruder. “Duckett?”
At the door, Duckett stood correctly to attention, his gaze fixed on the far wall. “I’m sorry to interrupt, m’lord, but I thought you’d want to know that Lady Winsmere has just arrived.”
“Bella?” Dominic’s incredulous question hung quivering in the air, but Duckett had already gone, leaving the door ajar.
Brows flying in disbelief, Dominic looked down at the woman still held securely in his arms. “I suppose we’d better go and see what your chaperon has to say.”
Georgiana smiled. “I wonder why she’s come.”
“Precisely my question. We’d better ask her.” Keeping Georgiana within the circle of his arm, Dominic strolled to the door.
In the doorway, they paused to take in the scene. Only one of the large double doors was open, with one of the footmen standing in its protection with a branch of candles, trying to cast some light on to the steps outside. Blasts of cold air hurled into the hall, bringing swirls of snowflakes to flutter and melt on the tiles. On the porch a carpet of snow, already some inches thick, bore witness to the intensity of the storm outside. As Georgiana and Dominic watched, two footmen emerged from the darkness, bearing Bella between them. Duckett followed immediately behind, the shoulders of his dark coat already dusted with snow.
As soon as everyone was inside, the footmen slammed the door shut against the elemental fury ravaging the night.
Immediately her feet hit the floor, Bella glanced about. Her eyes found Georgiana and Dominic, side by side in the drawing-room doorway. “There you are! Really, Georgie, you’re going to have to be more careful!” She bustled up and embraced Georgiana before turning a censorious look on her brother. “And you, of all people, should have known better!”
Intrigued, Dominic allowed one brow to quirk upward. Holding the door wide, he bowed slightly, ushering both Bella and Georgiana into the drawing-room. He closed the door firmly.
“Now, Bella, cut line. What on earth made you leave Green Street in this hoydenish fashion?”
In response to her brother’s crisp question, Bella simply stared.
“Hoydenish? Dominic Ridgeley! To call me hoydenish when you’ve all but compromised Georgiana by unthinkingly bringing her here when you might have guessed the snows were coming on. Why, if I hadn’t set out as soon as the first snowflake fell, she’d have had to spend the night here with you unchaperoned. I would have thought with all your experience you would have seen the danger as well as I.”
“Precisely.”
The exasperated tone brought Bella’s eyes to his face. Her confidence faltered. “You knew…” Bewildered, she glanced from Dominic’s face to Georgiana’s, then back again. “I don’t understand.”
Dominic sighed. “Before your arrival interrupted us, Georgiana and I were examining a number of the reasons for our impending marriage. As my affianced wife, she most definitely does not need the services of a chaperon when with me.”
“Oh.” Bella looked at Georgiana, but her protégée was watching Dominic, a strange little smile on her lips.
Dominic, meanwhile, had crossed to the bell-pull. “Yes. Oh! And, what’s more, you’ll have brought your husband out in these foul conditions—”
“But Arthur doesn’t know,” Bella interrupted to assure him.
“Most assuredly Arthur didn’t know when you left Green Street. However, he will certainly have found out long since and be close behind you. Talking about people who should know better, dear sister, in your condition you have no business to go gallivanting around the country in snowstorms.”
Bella gasped. “My condition? Whatever do you—?”
“My lord?”
Dominic turned to the door. “Ah, Mrs Landy.”
But before he could give any orders, there came again the sound of the great front doors opening. Voices, all masculine, were heard in the hall.
Bella put a hand to her lips.
Dominic glanced at her but said nothing, his attention returning to the door.
Arthur walked in. One glance was sufficient for everyone to see he was displeased. He nodded a wordless greeting to his brother-in-law, then fixed his wife with a stern eye. “Bella, what’s the meaning of this?”
Small hands fluttering, Bella went quickly to his side. “Arthur, you’re frozen.” When her husband’s gaze did not waver, she hurriedly explained, “But really, you must see. If I hadn’t come, Georgiana would have been alone here with Dominic.”
“My dear, your brother is perfectly capable of managing his own affairs. You’re my affair, and I cannot condone your careering across the countryside in this fashion. Not in your condition.”
For the second time that evening, Bella was struck dumb.
Before she could recover her wits, Dominic smoothly intervened. “I suggest you let Mrs Landy take you upstairs, Bella. You should get to bed immediately.”
“Quite so,” agreed Arthur, turning to nod to Mrs Landy, still standing by the door. “My lady is expecting and needs to rest.”
Abruptly Bella found her voice. “Whatever do you mean? I’m not—”
“Yes, you are!” said two male voices in emphatic unison.
Bella blinked. Then, as the truth dawned, she smiled beatifically. “Oh,” she said.
“Arthur,” pleaded Dominic, in a tone of desperation, “take her away. Please?” Arthur smiled.
Mrs Landy took her cue and bustled forward. “Now if you’ll just come along, Miss Bella, we’ll get you nicely settled…”
Within a minute, an unresisting Bella had been borne away.
“I’m sure Duckett can organise some dinner for you,” said Dominic to Arthur.
Arthur nodded. “If you don’t mind, I’ll take a tray upstairs with Bella. But first I think I’ll go and find some of that excellent brandy you keep in your library.” The shrewd grey gaze came to rest on Georgiana’s face. “I’m glad to see you’ve come to your senses, Georgiana. You belong here, my dear.” With a smile and a nod to each of them, he left.
“Now where were we?” asked Dominic, as he came to stand once more in front of Georgiana and drew her back into his arms.
Georgiana stared up into his face, her eyes alight with love and laughter. “Did you really plan to compromise me?”
From under heavy lids, Dominic’s blue eyes watched her. He smiled, slowly, knowing what it did to her. “Mm-hm,” he assented, nodding solemnly. “After all, you did beg me not to offer for you. If I couldn’t get you to agree any other way, then I was quite prepared to compromise you shamelessly.”
Returning the smile, his golden angel turned into a golden siren and wound her arms about his neck. “Shamelessly?”
It was the last word Georgiana uttered for quite some time. A log crashing into the stillness of the room finally broke the spell that held them. Dominic raised his head and glanced around to make sure the log had not rolled from the hearth. Turning back, he surprised an impish smile on his love’s face. One dark brow rose in question.
Georgiana saw it. She hesitated, then, her smile broadening, she explained, “I was remembering the first time I saw the Fragonard.” She inclined her head in the direction of the masterpiece above the fireplace. “I wondered then what sort of man would hang such a painting in such a place.”
A rakish smile lit his face. “The same sort of man who has two other Fragonards.”
Her golden eyes begged the invitation.
“Would you like to see the other two?”
“Mm-hm,” Georgiana murmured, one tiny fingertip tracing the line of his jaw. “Where are they?”
“Upstairs,” Dominic said, in between dropping tantalising little kisses along her lips. “In the master bedroom.”
“Ah,” said Georgiana, far more interested in his kisses than in any painting. After a moment she moved closer and asked, “Does that matter?”
With mock-seriousness, Dominic considered the point. One brow rose sternly. “It occurs to me, my lov
e, that, as you have yet to formally accept my offer, such an excursion would be highly improper.”
Georgiana smiled, letting her fingertip wander to trace the line of his lips. She glanced up at him through her lashes. “And if I were to accept your offer?”
The blue eyes gleamed. “That, of course, would cast an entirely different light on the matter.”
Their gazes locked. For one moment, all was still. Then a slow smile twisted Dominic’s lips.
“Georgiana, my love, will you marry me?”
Her face alight, Georgiana squealed as his arms tightened about her. “Yes!” she said, laughing. Then, as his head bent to hers, “Oh, yes.”
Much later, curled on his lap, warm and secure and pleasantly intoxicated, Georgiana recalled the paintings. She looked into his face. His eyes were closed, but as she watched they opened. One brow rose in query.
Suddenly shy, she dropped her gaze to where her fingers played in the folds of his cravat. “Will you take me to see the Fragonards?”
As a deep chuckle rumbled through his chest, she blushed vividly. But when she glanced again into his face, his expression was perfectly serious.
“Maybe you should see them. Just so you know what kind of man you’re marrying.”
His lips twisted into a smile that held a gentle promise. The glow in his eyes thrilled her to the core. Feeling suddenly light-headed, her heart thundering, Georgiana managed to nod her agreement.
A few minutes later they left the drawing-room with some semblance of normality and started up the stairs, Georgiana going ahead. On the landing they met Duckett, on his way down. As he drew abreast of his butler, Dominic paused to murmur, sotto voce, “Just remember, Duckett, this is all your fault.”
Duckett’s rigidly correct demeanour did not alter. He inclined his head. “Very good, m’lord.”
Duckett continued down the stairs, pausing at their foot to listen to the soft murmur of lovers’ voices, cut off by the closing of a door overhead.
Then he smiled. “Very good, m’lord.”
ISBN: 978-1-4268-7448-2
IMPETUOUS INNOCENT
Copyright © 1994 by Stephanie Laurens