him into her arms. He shook his head, marvelling. The progression towards that invitation was like no path of seduction he’d ever trod before. There’d been virtually no flirting, no exchange of remarks laden with suggestive double entendres, no meaningful glances, no surreptitious touches in public, heightening desire by inciting it when it could not be sated.
Just a great deal of conversation centred on politics, sensual tension ever humming between them, and one sanity-robbing, blazing inferno of a kiss.
Lord bless a lady who knew her own mind! The connection must be as powerful for her as was for him.
He took another circuit around the park, letting the gelding walk off the heat of the gallop, until he judged the lady would have had enough time to return home and prepare herself. The thought of her removing her habit, brushing out her hair, waiting for him, naked under her dressing gown, tightened his chest and hardened other things until, almost dizzy with desire, he could scarcely breathe.
His mouth dry, his member throbbing, he imagined that first touch. He’d worship her with hands and mouth before the first possession. Giddy with delight, on fire with need.
As for the committee meeting to begin soon, he dismissed it without a second thought. The Whigs had been trying to pummel through a Reform Bill for almost ten years; this one could wait a few hours for his attention.
He—and Lady Margaret—could not.
Grinning, he turned his mount towards Upper Brook Street.
By the time Maggie reached her town house, the heat of the ride had evaporated, leaving second thoughts to ambush her with the ferocity of a Reform zealot decrying a rotten borough. As she turned her horse over to the groom, she opened her mouth to tell him a gentleman would be coming for whom he must unlock the gate…but the words died on her lips.
She took the stairs to her bedchamber, directing a passing housemaid to go for hot water and another to help her out of habit and into a morning gown. Although she did keep clothing in both locations, since she was to spend several days at her father’s town house, her lady’s maid would be awaiting her there. Polly would think her mad when she turned up later, saying she’d inexplicably changed her mind and decided to go to her own home after her ride to bathe and change.
Not as mad as Mr Hadley would think her, when he arrived shortly to discover she’d changed her mind about an affair.
Oh, why could she not have reined in her raging desire before she blurted out that ill-judged invitation? She’d rather walk through the House of Lords in her shift than suffer through the interview she was about to have with her erstwhile lover.
He was almost certain to be angry, and with good cause. At best, he would think her a featherhead who didn’t know her own mind; at worst, he’d accuse her of being a tease—or a wanton. It made her sick to think of forfeiting his respect and friendship.
She took a deep breath to settle the nausea. There were worse things. She could weather this loss.
Yet another loss.
Steeling herself for the uncomfortable interview to come, she walked down to the parlour to await Giles Hadley.
She was pacing restlessly when he arrived, some fifteen minutes later. After a knock at the door, a puzzled footman showed him in, and he came over to take her hand and kiss it. ‘I’m afraid the groom forgot to leave the gate unlocked,’ he said, squeezing her fingers. ‘I had to bang and shout before I attracted attention, and he let me in and took my horse. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.’
He looked down at her face as he said that, and his smile faded. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked, his eyes narrowing in concern. ‘What happened?’
She pulled her hand free, the nausea returning with her nervousness. ‘Nothing—except I’m an idiot. I’m very sorry, Mr Hadley—’
‘Giles. I think it’s past time for you to call me Giles, don’t you?’
Ignoring that, she began again. ‘I’m very sorry, and I know I’m acting like a perfect ninny, but…but I’m going to have to rescind my offer. I…I can’t do this.’
‘I see.’ He took a step back, studying her face. ‘You…no longer want me?’
‘No, that’s not it at all! Surely you know how much I want you—I promise you, I’ve never before in my life propositioned a gentleman! It was entirely the unprecedented strength of the attraction between us that drove me to it. That, and the bitter knowledge that the intimacy that brings such joy is precious, and often fleeting, meant to be seized and appreciated while we can. But I can’t risk it.’
Too agitated to remain still, she took to pacing the room, looking back at him as she spoke. ‘I’ll be indelicately blunt. Unlike most matrons who indulge in a tryst, I don’t have a husband who could cover up any…unfortunate consequences. I couldn’t bear to shame my father, and it would kill me to bear a child that I had to give up and could never acknowledge. And before you say anything, neither would I want to drag you into “doing the honourable thing”—forcing us into a marriage neither of us is prepared for.’
Sighing, she came back to stand beside him and looked up to meet his sombre gaze. ‘Yes, I still want—more than you can imagine. But for so many compelling reasons, I cannot have. I am so sorry.’ She swallowed hard, fighting back the humiliation of tears. ‘I…hope you will not think too badly of me.’
She tried to look away, but he took her chin and tilted it back to face him. To her surprise, his expression seemed…tender, rather than aggrieved. ‘I don’t think badly of you at all. Rather the opposite! After what my mother suffered, I understand only too well the penalty imposed upon a woman for a dalliance that a man enjoys with no risk of retribution. To deny what one so strongly desires, in order to not shame family or harm innocents, is an honourable act. But a carte blanche doesn’t have to be completely blank. One can write a few rules upon it.’
She shook her head. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘Do you not?’ At her puzzled look, he laughed softly. ‘As I’m sure you know, there are many delightful ways to pleasure other than the…consummation that could put you at risk.’
She thought of how, after a long time apart, Robbie had been able to bring her to her peak with just a kiss, while he stroked and fondled. How at any time, his mouth and fingers could tease her closer and closer to that summit, close enough that she might have reached completion, even had he not claimed her.
But what of his pleasure? ‘Do you mean you could be satisfied with…less than full possession?’
In answer, he bent down and captured her mouth. Her lips acutely sensitive after her hasty journey from arousal to frustration to excitement to disappointment, Maggie moaned, his lips coaxing her immediately to response.
‘You see,’ he murmured, breaking the kiss. ‘So many delightful roads to pleasure. If a sensible caution is all that holds you back, you need resist no longer.’
‘But what
