Almost a Virgin (Virgins No More) Page 2

  Amos looked surprised then said, “I’d better send a letter to Joel and Micah’s house master at Eton as well.” He dropped into Barnabas’ empty chair and ran his hands through his hair. “And to think I assumed that once the twins were at school life would be quiet and peaceful!”

  The next half hour was full of servants running hither and yon with letters to deliver, horses and carriages to prepare, and food to be packed.

  By the time Barnabas and Georgina came downstairs, each carrying a small bundle, the horses were ready and they only awaited Deborah’s clothes from the Arnott townhouse.

  Amos left, having told Barnabas the exact route he planned to travel. Scarcely had they returned inside than the Dowager and Sapphira appeared in the old lady’s coach.

  “She told me that money was to buy Simeon a birthday gift,” sputtered the Dowager, handing a bundle of clothing to Georgina.

  “Why, I sent her money for Simeon’s birthday present too. The sneaky little madam!” gasped Georgina.

  “I wonder what excuse she used to get money from Simeon?” said Barnabas, with a flash of insight.

  “At least it means she won’t be traveling on sacks in the back of a wagon this time,” said Georgina with a sigh. “But I had hoped school would occupy her mind and keep her out of trouble.”

  “Apparently not, my dear. We must follow Amos with all speed. Our carriage won’t be as fast as his horse, you know,” Barnabas added.

  After they left, the Dowager and Sapphira stayed to drink tea with Theodora and Mama.

  “Amos sent a note to young Pendleton to escort us to the Featherby’s ball tonight. It would not do to leave Lady Mary Featherby in sole possession of the Earl of Mitcham,” the Dowager said forthrightly.

  Sapphira blushed.

  “Well, my dear he is the catch of the Season. Frances, would you and Theodora like to travel in my carriage, seeing you have no male escort with Barnabas out of town?”

  Mama sighed. “Truly, I have no desire to attend that woman’s parties. She and her daughter are much too forward. But Theodora really ought to go.”

  “Would you like us to bring the carriage here then and pick up Theodora, so you don’t need to attend? Grandmama can chaperone us both, and Theodora and I will have plenty to talk about,” suggested Sapphira.

  “Why yes. If it’s not too much trouble, I would like a quiet night at home.”

  The talk then turned to the clothes they would wear. Theodora remembered the Dowager’s advice from the Little Season and planned to dress older than Sapphira to lessen the contrast between them. Besides, wearing stronger colors suited her dark hair.

  ****

  Deborah sat smugly in the coach, dressed in her friend Julia’s brother’s clothes, her bundle at her feet. Defiantly she kicked her boots against the seat, something her own family would never let her do. It felt so good to be treated as a brash boy instead of being stifled and made to act like a young lady.

  Joel and Micah may have had all the fun so far, but now it was her turn. And this time she’d planned everything very carefully. Nothing could possibly go wrong. The coach would take her within a few streets of Eton school, then she’d walk all around it, get a feel for the place, and sit in on the classes she most wanted to attend. No horrid drawing or dancing lessons for her. Oh no. She’d study Greek and Latin, not stupid French. She’d read geography too, not just silly female rubbish about balls and parties, but about the War and where all the battles were. How far the soldiers had marched from the river, where the mountain passes were, and important things. Things she longed to know.

  Water-color painting made her feel ill. Bloody battlefields, on the other hand, energized her and made her brain spark with ideas.

  Besides, she’d shown how cleverly she could plot and plan. This time she had money. A lot of money. Enough to rent a room for at least a month. A month would be long enough to learn geography and Greek surely. Her old tutor, Mr. Gordon, was always saying how smart she was, and all the mistresses said she was a long way ahead of the other girls in her classes at school.

  Julia was a day-girl, and she and Julia had forged a letter from Julia’s mama inviting Deborah to their house for a month, so no one would miss her from school. All she had to do was save enough money for the coach trip back to school. That wouldn’t be hard. As a boy she could easily earn some money. Boys were always being given coins to hold horses and suchlike.

  The only potential problem Deborah could envisage was her lack of a uniform. But both Joel and Micah had said they only had to wear it for formal events, and since she only planned to attend classes, she should be all right.

  For a moment Deborah shivered, then her natural resilience reasserted itself. Of course she’d manage. Everything was planned. So far she’d had no trouble. Julia had done everything she’d told her. These clothes fit much better than the twins’ clothes had done when she’d gone to the boxing match. This time she’d have a truly stupendous adventure.

  An hour later her confidence was waning somewhat. All the students seemed so much bigger than her. Of course the boys were supposed to be thirteen but nine wasn’t so very much less than thirteen, and she was tall for her age. Many of them were wearing tail coats, something she was unable to acquire. And the place was so big. Much, much bigger than her school. Much bigger even than Kingsdene. Yet despite that, the classes were small. She’d assumed in such a big school that many classes would have a lot of students, so one more wouldn’t be noticed, yet the reverse seemed to be true. In a class of twenty, the master would realize she was a new student.

  Deborah sat on the grass leaning on her bundle and thought. What was it Sir Arthur Wellesley had said, “Tie a knot and go on”? That’s what she’d do.

  Just as she was on the point of giving up and going to get some food, because she’d missed breakfast, it was past midday, and she was very hungry, she had the flash of an idea. She’d bribe Joel and Micah to lend her one of their uniforms and introduce her as a cousin or something visiting and wanting to taste a few lessons.

  Carefully she thought through this new plan. She knew lots of secrets about them, things even Simeon didn’t know far less Grandmama. They’d have to do as she wanted if they didn’t want her to tell on them! Now all she had to do was find their rooms.

  ****

  The Featherby’s ball could only be considered one of the most pretentious events of the Season, thought John, as he looked around the ballroom draped in ghastly pink calico. He guessed it was meant to look like a tent or something, but all he could think of was that those miles and miles of calico could have been put to much better use clothing the poor than hanging in long swatches from the ceiling to the floor and gathered up in strange, ungainly bunches over the windows and doorways.

  Theodora’s mama didn’t appear to be here tonight, nor was his friend Barnabas to be seen. Theodora was sitting with the Dowager Lady Arnott and Sapphira. Hmm, no sign of Georgina anywhere either. I suppose they have gone to Kingsdene for some reason. He shrugged those thoughts off and stared at Sapphira and Theodora. One so gloriously fair, the other dark and delicious.

  Sapphira was always surrounded by young bucks eager to make her laugh or to claim her hand for a dance or even to fetch her a glass of lemonade. Yet she was never rude or impatient with any of them, always sweet and kind.

  Theodora was different. She too was sweet and patient, but when among friends her remarks showed an astute mind and a clear sense of justice—or injustice as the case may be. He was well aware that it was her encouragement that meant the vicarage now provided new boots at Christmas for the maids as well as for the man-servants. When she spoke it was as if the sun had reappeared from behind a cloud. Things that had been dim and unclear became bright and obvious.

  The thought slammed through his head that it was Theodora he wanted to marry. He’d loved her for years and years, since she was a young girl. He’d told himself he was simply waiting until she was old enough to marry, until she’d enjoye
d a Season. Then Sapphira had arrived in Town and he’d been distracted by her perfect face and form, by her loving nature. But that’s all she was, a distraction. His heart had not changed. It was Theodora he loved, had always loved. She was the one he must marry. I’ll speak to Barnabas tomorrow. Get the marriage settlements organized, he promised himself, before remembering Barnabas was probably out of town. As soon as he returns, he amended.

  Greatly relieved at having made his decision, he hurried across the ballroom to claim her for the supper dance, as well as the two dances he’d already signed her card for.

  Although a man might dance with any woman twice, the third dance was tantamount to a declaration of intent, and he was ready to claim her as his.

  Theodora smiled at him, her hazel eyes sparkling with green and gold lights. At once he was struck by how very lovely she was. That deep green gown she wore was an ideal foil for her dark hair, hazel eyes, and alabaster skin. Alabaster skin! Even in my dream I had her skin color correct. Something inside me already knew she was mine, even if my mind had not yet made the connection. Guiltily he looked at her breasts. Yes, they were perfect globes and would fill his hands as he held them.

  His cock stiffened inside his breeches and he looked away, drawing in a big breath to calm his wildly beating heart. This was neither the time nor the place to think such thoughts of an innocent maiden. Especially as he’d not yet spoken to her brother.

  Young Mr. Pendleton was standing beside Sapphira Arnott’s chair like a guard dog, and John made the effort to engage him in some conversation before paying his respects to the Dowager and then leaving the group. But whenever he wasn’t dancing, John’s gaze followed Theodora’s form around the ballroom as he measured each of her dance partners and found every one of them unworthy of her regard. He could hardly wait to eat supper with her. He was like a young man in the first flush of romantic love once again, able to think of nothing but the lady he adored.

  ****

  John moved briskly along the buffet table, filling his own plate haphazardly with a little of everything but choosing carefully the things he knew Theodora liked to eat to put on her plate. Once again he surprised himself with how well he knew her. She would enjoy the ham and the asparagus but not the shrimp in aspic. When did he learn such things? How did he come to have such knowledge about her yet not even understand it was she who he loved?

  He shrugged mentally, delivering their plates to the table where she sat waiting for him then returning to bring them each a glass of punch.

  At first their conversation was easy and general—the cool weather despite it being almost summer, the exact ingredients in the punch, talk of a hot-air balloon ascension to take place the following week.

  The longer he talked to her the more he wanted her. Her eyes were sparkling with enjoyment. Her lips were like rosebuds and every mouthful of food she took gave him an intense desire to have his cock between those pink lips, to have her sucking him inside, not some lucky punch.

  His dick was so huge it was pressing against his breeches in a manner certain to drive his valet to drink. The fabric was woolen and adjusted somewhat, but he was certain it was stretched far beyond the efforts of a valet to reduce it to its proper shape. He was just grateful for the long tablecloth that prevented anyone from seeing his extreme arousal.

  How could he have been in her presence almost daily for the past few weeks and not have known how desirable she was, how very much he wanted to possess her and make her his? Well whatever the reason, he saw clearly now and knew he wanted Theodora and only Theodora. And dammit, if Barnabas tried to make him wait longer than the three weeks necessary for the bans to be read, he’d plant him a facer, best friend or not.

  Which reminded him of an immediate and pressing problem. “Where are Barnabas and Georgina? Have they gone to Kingsdene for some reason?”

  To his surprise, she hesitated, blushed, looked all around them, licked her lips—which made his cock jerk with need—then whispered almost below her breath. “It’s Deborah.”

  Deborah? She was the youngest of the extensive Arnott brood. But she was only a child. Mayhap nine or so years old. Was she ill?

  He opened his mouth to ask another question, but she shook her head slightly and her eyes begged him to remain silent. He was intrigued. What on Earth could be happening in the Arnott household with Deborah?

  Then he remembered her hiding in a wagon to go to a boxing match. Ahh. Mischief. That was more likely than an illness. Now he really wanted to hear this story. He looked around the supper room for inspiration and noted that the floor-length doors out to the balcony and gardens were standing ajar. The weather was not very warm, but a quick turn around the gardens should not be injurious to the health. Besides, he really wanted to know where Barnabas was. And more importantly, when he’d be back in town.

  “Shall we take a turn out on the balcony?” he suggested, standing and offering his arm to her.

  She turned her beautiful eyes on him and nodded, a slight smile raising her lips at the corners. Dammit she was beautiful. Not in the breath-catching way of Miss Sapphira Arnott, but in a bone-deep way that left his belly clenching and his heart pounding.

  He helped her out of her chair, unable to resist brushing his hand across her bare shoulder as he adjusted her shawl for her. Her skin was so soft and white. Just as it had been in his dream. He longed to touch her properly, to hold her in his arms and kiss her until they were both breathless, to plunge his hand down the bodice of her gown and cup those tempting breasts. To throw her deep green silk skirts up over her head and slide his aching dick deep into her womanly heat. Instead he bowed politely and let her rest her gloved hand on his arm as they walked side by side, but not touching each other’s bodies, to the balcony door. There, he opened the door wider and bowed her through, hoping not too many other couples would be outside.

  Only one couple was on the balcony, right at the far end. Deliberately he kept his gaze away from them and led Theodora to the steps down into the garden. “If we follow the lanterns they will light the path to the fountain. I believe you will enjoy seeing it under the stars,” he said like some damn guidebook. But all he could think about was getting her alone to kiss her senseless. And to ask her about Barnabas and Deborah of course.

  As soon as they were out of earshot of the couple on the balcony, Theodora said, “Deborah has run away from school. She left very early this morning before breakfast. The headmistress has no idea where she might be. Amos went ahead to search for her, and Barnabas and Georgina followed in the carriage with the luggage they might need.”

  “I suppose Simeon is at Kingsdene.”

  “Yes. Amos sent a message to him, but they had to leave without him as it may have taken him most of the day to get up to Town.”

  “It wouldn’t surprise me to find out that Deborah turns out to be more of a handful than those hell-born twins,” said John, leading her around a corner in the path instead of to the fountain.

  “What—”

  “There’s a garden seat just near here and I want to kiss you.” He led her to the seat then softly pushed her onto it, sitting pressed against her. Gently he turned her head to his. In the dim light, there was no fear in her face, just a heated look in her eyes that proved she was not unhappy about his plan to kiss her.

  Thank God.

  Leaving one hand on the back of her head, he lowered his lips to hers, first just the lightest of touches, then pressing more firmly.

  She gave a little sigh and opened her lips beneath his, pressing back without hesitation.

  Aha. She’s been kissed before!

  Relieved that she was agreeable to his advances, he kissed her more deeply, sliding his tongue between her lips and leaving it rest there in case he surprised her.

  It might have been a new experience for her, he couldn’t tell, but she definitely was responding to him. She kissed him back and gave a tentative little flutter of her tongue against his.

  Suddenly his heart
rate sped up. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her hard against him as he kissed her deep and yet deeper, sliding his tongue along her teeth, running it over the roof of her mouth, tangling it with hers then sucking her tongue into his mouth.

  She tasted of ambrosia, a heady essence of woman, punch, ham, and need. Over the scents of the garden surrounding them, he could smell her desire for him, taste it on her. Urgently he kissed her again, running his tongue along her lips, pressing kisses along her jaw line, before thrusting it deep into her mouth again.

  She sucked on his tongue, pressing her body against his. He could feel the points of her nipples through the silk gown and no doubt several layers of undergarments. He was certain she could feel his dick, harder than the stone bench on which they sat, pressed into her belly.

  Keeping one hand firmly on her back, he slid the other into the front of her gown, touching the breast that had filled his dreams. The skin was incredibly soft, the nipples unimaginably hard. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. Carefully he lifted the breast up then sucked the nipple and areola into his mouth. The breath hissed out of her on a gasp as he sucked, and she leaned her body into him. Oh yes she liked that!

  Reassured he sucked her again and again, her breast the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted.

  But his dick was killing him; he had to free it. One-handed he opened the front fall of his breeches and released his aching cock. It was longer and harder than he could ever remember it being. He spread his legs wide to ease the ache, but then he couldn’t kiss her properly and he needed her more than he need air itself.

  Pulling her to her feet, he urged her onto his lap, lifting her skirts high, separating her legs, until without even planning or thinking about it, his cock was nestled at her entry.

  Wordlessly she pressed her breast to his mouth and kissed his forehead. He slid his cock into her, pushing past the slight barrier, thrusting deep inside her, reveling in her tight heat, the way her silken walls gripped him. Never had a woman been so hot, so tight, so wet, so wonderful.