Silk Is For Seduction - Loretta Chase [93]
There was no magic.
In Paris, there had been a kind of magic or perhaps unreality: the absurdity of that ball where Noirot didn’t belong, yet made herself belong, where she was the sun, and everyone else became little planets and moons, orbiting about her.
Magic, indeed. What folly! What a fool he was! The most beautiful girl in London was in his arms. Every man in the place envied him.
Yes, he was a fool. The girl he’d always loved was in his arms, and every other man in the ballroom wanted to be in his shoes.
And all he wanted was to get away.
Library of Clevedon House
Friday 1 May
“We have to get away,” Marcelline told Clevedon.
She’d seen nothing of him since Wednesday night. She had no idea when he’d come home from Almack’s. His private apartments were on the garden front in the main part of the house—the equivalent of streets away.
Now it was ten o’clock on Friday morning. The seamstresses had arrived an hour ago and settled down to work on the most urgent orders. Normally, while they worked, Marcelline and one of her sisters would be in the showroom, attending to customers.
But they had no showroom. And after Lady Clara’s triumphant appearance at Almack’s, Marcelline could expect customers, a great many. If Maison Noirot didn’t quickly seize the opportunity, the ton—not noted for being able to keep its mind on any one thing for any length of time—would forget about Lady Clara’s mouth-watering dress.
Her ladyship would have other dresses from Maison Noirot, but the impact would not be quite the same as the first time.
This wasn’t the only reason for getting out, but it was the most practical and mercenary one.
Marcelline had been preparing to write him a note when Halliday reported that his grace was in the library, and had asked to see Mrs. Noirot when convenient.
She’d hurried in and found him bent over a table piled with papers and magazines.
She hadn’t waited to find out what he wanted to talk to her about.
“We can’t stay here,” she said. “I don’t want to seem ungrateful—you know I’m grateful—but this is very disruptive—of my business, my employees, my family. Lucie in particular. The maids. The footmen. She’s starting to think that’s normal. She’s much more difficult to manage than you’d suppose, and I’ll need weeks to undo the damage that’s been done in a few days by all the pampering and catering to her every . . .”
She trailed off as he lifted his head from his study of the paper in front of him and turned that green gaze on her. Her gaze slid away from those extraordinary eyes and drifted downward over his long, straight nose and paused at his mouth, the sensuous mouth that should have been a woman’s and was so purely male.
The room grew too hot. Her mind skittered from one thought to another, trying to avoid the one subject she couldn’t afford to dwell on. But the dark longing beat in her heart and sent heat lower, and she took a step back.
“And then there’s that,” she said.
“Yes,” he said. “There is that.”
“Yes,” she said, and added quickly, “I’ve got Lady Clara, and I should like to keep her. The longer I stay here, the less her mother will love me. I’m not sure how long she can stand up to her mother.”
I’m not sure how much longer I can keep away from you.
He looked away and gave a little sigh.
She wanted to touch him. She wanted to lay the palm of her hand against his cheek. She wanted to step into his arms and lay her head on his chest and listen to his heart beat. She wanted to feel the warmth of his body and its strength. She wanted him inside her. She wanted him.
Last night she’d lain awake, imagining: a light footstep in the darkness . . . the sound of the door closing . . . the sound of his breath in and out . . . the motion of the mattress as his weight settled onto it . . . silk whispering as he shrugged off his dressing gown . . . his voice so low . . . his mouth against her ear . . . and then his hands on her, drawing up her gown . . . his hand between her legs . . .
Stop it stop it stop it.
“I’ve spoken to my sisters, and they agree that we can’t stay,” she