by Raine Miller
“I am sure Mrs. Griffin can put you in contact with a draper. What are your preferred colours?”
“Greens and blues with some browns put in.”
“Ah, the cool colours. Cool, the green and the blue, but very calming. The brown is a warm colour, but earthy. They are excellent complements of each other. You have good taste.”
Accepting his praise, Imogene explained, “They remind me of the outdoors, the grass and the sky and the earth. I should like to try to bring the feel of the outdoors to the inside. Those colours have always been my favourites.”
“I have knowledge of fabrics and textures from my father and would be happy to give opinion on your choices if you wish, or if you want some guidance.”
“Very kind of you, Mr. Mallerton. I may just take you up on that offer, not wishing to step wrong in my selections.”
Returning to painting, he concentrated on his work for a time. “You know, Lady Rothvale, I do more than portraits of people. I could paint a landscape, or your horse, even. If you would like a portrait for your new rooms, I would be pleased to do something personal for you.” He offered so easily, as if they had known each other their whole lives.
Imogene was touched by his proposition. “Oh yes, I would love that. A portrait of Terra and Triton together would be dearly cherished. I would have them standing at the front of the house with the fountain in view. Having such a portrait would be a treasure, and perfect for my rooms, I think. If you would do that for me, I would be most obliged.”
“Of course, my lady. And since I am paid for my work, you do not have to be obliged to me in any way. I’ll make sure your husband gets the bill, and I know he’ll happily pay my exorbitant price just to keep you smiling and pleased.” His eyes twinkling wickedly made her laugh out loud.
“Mr. Mallerton, would you oblige me further and join us for dinner tonight? The Burleighs are coming this evening and I would like it if you would join our party.”
He gave her an odd look and then erased it just as quickly. “I will be there, my lady.” He bowed.
He has already received his invitation to dinner and Graham did not tell me.
GRAHAM watched Imogene as she came up the drive with Zuly, having a clear view of her through the library window. Gleaming in her portrait finery, he was unable to do anything really but stare at her. Her face flushed with a joyful glow. She was absolutely radiant. He saw her say something to the dog and Zuly looked up at her. Their exchange, so full of affection and trust, he felt like a voyeur once again, remembering the time he had watched her reunite with Terra at Kenilbrooke.
Mine. She is mine.
He was lying in wait for her. Graham found he craved her return from the portrait sittings at Tristan’s with illogical intensity, supposing it was simple instinct, male possessiveness of his woman. Tristan was trustworthy. Graham knew absolutely, that nothing improper would ever happen between them, but nevertheless waited anxiously for her whenever she was at a sitting.
Standing in the library doorway, he called to her as she would have passed through the foyer, held out his hand and motioned for her to come to him.
Flashing a lovely smile, she greeted him. “Are you waiting on me again, my darling?”
He wondered if his desperation for her when she returned from a sitting had caught her notice. Probably had. Imogene possessed a sharp mind.
She glided over to him as if she was well aware he needed a little soothing, and wondered where it might lead. He wouldn’t mind a little soothing right here in the library. The door did possess a sturdy lock, after all.
Pulling her to him, he took in her heavenly scent. “Guilty as charged, chéri. But I am fine now you are returned to me.” He gazed at her in all of her mystery. “Give us a kiss,” he said to her, feeling a little of his tension let go now that she was in his arms again.
Imogene put her hand on his face and tucked a strand of hair back behind his ear. “I love you. I love that you wait here for me to come home. What have you been up to while I was away?” Her words, gentle and sweet, tumbled off lips he wanted to kiss.
He shrugged. “Nothing much. The post arrived and we have letters from Jules and Mina at Everfell, Wilton Court, and from your friend Jocelyn, I think.” He paused for a moment before asking, “Why did you look so happy when you came in just now?”
“That is easy. I am happy because I am returning to you.”
He rolled his eyes. “Very good diplomatic answer, chérie. Now try again,” he scolded with mock sternness.
She grinned at him as if she was sharing an exciting secret. “Mr. Mallerton is going to paint a portrait for me. A portrait of my own choosing, for my rooms. I wish it to be of Terra and Triton in front of the fountain. It’s a lovely vision and it pleases me. That is probably why you see me as happy today. Oh, and I invited him to join us for dinner with the Burleighs.”
“What was his reaction to your invitation?” he asked with a grimace, remembering he’d forgotten to mention it to her.
“Well, he looked at me oddly now that you ask. He said, ‘I will be there’ when he accepted. Why would he say it like that, Graham, unless you had already invited him? No wonder he looked at me so strangely.” She pushed at his chest. “Why do you not tell me things? Secrets, secrets, all the time. You make me appear an idiot.” Her eyes sparkly with irritation, she folded her arms as she waited for his response.
Graham closed his eyes for a moment. “I apologize. It was my mistake, not a secret, I promise you. The invitation was last minute, sent over this morning. I forgot to tell you. I get so damn distracted with all of…everything,” he sputtered, feeling very exasperated. “Being a bachelor for such a long time, I am not used to thinking about how I might get you into trouble, chérie. I am so sorry. I promise I’ll get better.” Leaning into her neck, he whispered, “I am at your mercy.”
“Well, you do look remorseful,” she said wryly, “and pathetic. And what is so distracting for you anyway?”
He gaped at her.
“Are you inferring that I am the source of your great distraction, my darling? How is that possible?”
Graham gave her a thorough, salacious sweep with his eyes before saying, “It is very possible, I assure you.”
“Hmmph,” she sniffed. “I’m going to go up and change out of this gown now.”
“I will help you.” He took her arm to go with her.
“Oh no, no. I don’t think so, not today,” she said, imperiously, removing her arm from his hold. “You will stay here and get yourself…undistracted. ’Tis your punishment, Graham. When I return, you can tell me how you intend to solve your little problem.” Her lip curled up on one side; and he could tell she was enjoying this exchange with him immensely.
He felt his eye start to twitch, and began tapping his hand on his leg.
Inclining his head slightly, he said, “Do as you wish, chérie.”
He watched Imogene leave the library, a disobedient smirk on his face, and a quickly hardening cock in his breeches.
Both he and Imogene realized he had agreed to nothing.
Moving his hands up to his throat, he began to unknot his cravat.
IMOGENE fled quickly, knowing she had very little time as she raced to her rooms. He would come after her within minutes. She started pulling off the emeralds on the way to her chamber. Once inside, she dumped the jewels onto her dressing table, drew off the pearly dress, laying it over her bed, taking a white collared blouse from the wardrobe, buttoning it, her fingers flying, then she chose a soft grey jumper and smoothed it down. She was breathing heavily when she dashed out into the hall for a quick look. Moving hastily down the corridor, she stopped just past the corner and waited, her heart pounding so hard, she shivered.
It didn’t take him long. She heard his boot steps come determinedly down the hall. Her bedroom door was opened, and then footsteps into that room were sounded.
Imagining him taking in the sight of her gown tossed on the bed, and the magnificent em
eralds thrown on the dressing table, gave her such a thrill. The instant he saw them he would know she was hiding, and he would start hunting for her.
He called out her name one time, and then she heard no more.
He was moving on through her rooms, into their sitting room, and from there probably into his bedroom to search, she decided.
Imogene held her place and waited.
GRAHAM knew what she was up to the minute he stepped into her rooms. He saw the haphazard drops of gown and jewels and figured he was in for a game of cat and mouse. He searched the other rooms for good measure but didn’t really imagine he’d find her so easily. Very carefully, he retraced his steps, walking lightly so his boots did not clink on the floor. Moving quietly back out into the hall, he stopped for a moment. He breathed in the air, catching the whiff of her honeysuckle scent and knew she was near. “Imogene,” he hummed, “I know you are close by for I can scent you.” He took a step in her direction, listening for any sounds from her. “You can run, chérie. Go ahead…run. I will just chase after you, but you know that.” He took another step. “I will catch you, chérie. You know I will. And you know what will happen when I do…”
That last part did it.
He heard her tiny intake of air, and then the sound of scrambling feet. Pure animal instinct took over as he lurched toward the direction she was going even though he had not sighted her yet. He spotted the back of her skirt as she turned the corner at the end of the hall before pounding up the narrow staircase leading to the third floor. When he made it to the landing he could see many doors opened on both sides of the corridor.
Graham had a very good idea of where she might be hiding as he stalked her methodically, carefully, and patiently. “You are very clever, chérie, opening all these doors, trying to throw me off your trail. But it is hopeless. I will find you. It’s just a matter of moments before I catch you. Isn’t that right, chérie?”
He stopped chasing and decided to wait her out because he was actually standing in the doorway of the room where she was hiding. He knew she was in there because he could see a swath across the threshold where the dust had been swept away by her skirt as she’d crossed it. The other doorways all had their dust intact.
He felt the thrill of the chase, and her imminent capture, with great relish.
This is tremendous fun. Oh, Imogene, I am thinking of a word… A very bad word. A word I would never say to you, but I can think it. Nevertheless, the word expresses exactly what I want to do to you. And right now, you need it done to you. You need it badly.
He stepped into the room and swept it with his eyes. Not very many places to hide; under the bed, wardrobe, drapes, there was nowhere else. Walking over to the wardrobe, he opened it—empty. He spun at the sound of her squeal and the shuddering of drapes as she left her hiding spot and tried to pass him.
Imogene made a run for the door and she was quick, but not quick enough. She made it as far as a few paces down the hallway before he snaked an arm around her waist and dragged her back.
She screamed.
He clamped a hand over her mouth immediately. “Now we can’t have any of that, chérie, and you mustn’t upset the servants.” Graham panted the words into her ear as he pulled her backward into the room, closed the door and locked them in. He removed his hand, managing to pick her up and drop her onto the bed, breathing heavily from all of the exertion.
Her elbows propped her up in the bed and she breathed hard, her breasts heaving, her eyes growing dark and smoky in challenge.
“I told you I would catch you.” He leaned against the door, pulled off one boot, and then the other. “And you know what’s going to happen now, don’t you?” He asked her in a whisper, raking over her with his eyes.
Imogene nodded slowly, looking very sensual, and if he had to guess, very aroused.
He pulled her to her feet to stand at the side of the bed. “Your clothes are coming off now.”
The jumper was pulled over her head, and then the white blouse. Her petticoats and corset were quickly unstrung and pushed down to the floor. He lifted her shift off, and she was there before him. His prize. His reward for all his efforts. Graham pressed her down onto the bed naked and enjoyed the sight of her body as he made fast work of pitching his own clothes to the floor to lie beside hers.
The instant he touched her on the bed she became like a feral cat, writhing underneath him, arching at every touch, every lick, every kiss, every bite, and every stroke. It was stirring and untamed, raging and tempestuous, and undoubtedly, a mutual ravishment. They worked at it very hard, and when it was time, and she could wait no longer for him to join her, she said the words, “Fill me.”
“What?” he rasped, “what did you say?”
“Fill me!”
He served.
And as he did, he pondered what she’d said. Fill... She said ‘fill.’ An interesting word choice. Same beginning sound, and the same number of letters as my word. Fuck, fill, take, need, have, mate, love—merely connotation. Words. Words change nothing about my feelings for her, or what I do right now. Ooooooh, fuck! Never let this end.
THEY lay together under the covers. Graham had her pressed right up against him, her back to his chest. Nuzzling at her neck, he tried to wake her slowly. After their wild coupling, he’d dragged the blankets over their bodies to hold off the winter chill, and they had slept. He felt her stir and knew she was waking. “You are like a sleepy kitten now. Quite a transition from the wild, untamed feline of before.”
“Mmm, which do you like best?”
“They both have their merits, chérie, and there was also a playful pussy in the mix as well, when you led me on this merry chase. I love all of your feline personas.”
“Do you know what today is?”
“I do, chérie.”
“Well, do you like your Valentine surprise then?”
“You planned this?” He rolled her to her back so he could see her eyes. “I don’t believe it.”
She laughed at him. “I was going to do it tonight, but your little omission, which got you into trouble, was too perfect of an opportunity to pass up.” She shook her head at him. “If you could have seen your face when I told you to stay in the library. I will never forget it. You got a little twitch in your eye.” She touched the corner of his eye and grinned.
He raised his brows at her. “I got a twitch somewhere else as well. You have that unique effect upon me.”
“Yes, I know,” she replied wryly. “I had no idea where I was going or what was even up here. I could hear you coming and closing in fast, so I ran by several doors and opened them all. I knew you would come after me and I would have no time, so I flew faster than I have ever done before. You can thank me that the spontaneity of the moment led us here to this little love nest,” she reminded him. “Very appropriate for St. Valentine’s Day, too. Is that not the day that birds are supposed to choose their mates?”
“Let’s see if it qualifies as such.” He purposefully looked around the room. “It has four walls, a locking door, a bed…and you.” He tickled her. “Yes.” He nodded. “I believe it qualifies as a love nest, but it is rather dusty.” He sniffed the air. “Maybe we should get someone up here to clean it before we try to use it again.”
“So you are assuming that this situation might repeat itself?”
“But I loved chasing you, chérie, so I dearly hope so. All you have to do is bolt and I’ll come after you straight away and we’ll see where we end up.” He winked. “I don’t know how I’m going to get through dinner tonight with our guests. Every time I look at you I’m going to think of this afternoon and people might suspect what we’ve been up to.”
“You’d better not look at me then,” she scolded.
“Impossible,” he whispered as he dropped down for a kiss.
“THIS is a lovely colour on you.” Graham admired her claret coloured gown, his eyes lighting up when he saw that she was wearing the heart pendant he had given her. He kissed the
heart nestled at her throat and then sweetly on the lips. “Shall we go and greet our guests, Lady Rothvale?”
“Yes, my lord, I believe we should.” She took his arm and sighed.
“What is it?”
She hesitated before she spoke. “The formality of the title is so—so ostentatious. I find it a little uncomfortable. I know I am to address you as Lord Rothvale in company, but it just sounds so affected. I feel the same way about my own title. I would prefer to be Mrs. Everley or just plain Imogene.”
He squeezed her arm. “I know exactly how you feel, chérie, as I share your sentiments precisely. I am afraid there is nothing for it though. When we are in public, we will have to observe convention, with the servants as well. I have found that staff cling to the rules most steadfastly, never giving up the formal address of a title. When we are alone with our friends, we can do whatever we like, addressing them in the familiar if we wish to.”
“Yes, all right.”
Later, at dinner, Imogene enjoyed visiting with Charles and Jemima Burleigh, finding them a very interesting and engaging couple. She felt a connection with Jemima immediately and was fascinated to hear of their life at Biddenton where Charles held the vicarage. Charles and Jemima had been married for more than five years and had two children, Samuel and Clementine.
Jemima was still young at five and twenty, very busy with her children and the emancipation work. They spoke a little about it. Jemima had gotten involved when Charles’s family felt it prudent to pull out of their Antigua interests. They maintained their contacts however, and this enabled them to provide for sponsorship from English families of beneficent means. Jemima praised Graham for his example to the landed families of Warwickshire as he had been the first in the area to take a family. She also informed Imogene that Mr. and Mrs. Everley of Everfell were in the process of sponsoring a family from Antigua as well, and eagerly awaited their transport.