Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

" Y our Grace!" Thalia's eyes were wide as she rose from her chair.

Benedict continued to grin, making sure to look her up and down as slowly as possible. He wanted to watch her squirm under his gaze. "Lady Thalia. Good day."

Though her surprise was equally entrancing to watch, it quickly faded away and she recovered her mask of cool annoyance. "What on earth are you doing here?"

"That is not very hospitable of you," he tutted, glancing around him. It was a small room. On his way down the hall, he had heard a small sigh from behind the door. Curious, he'd pushed his way in, expecting to find one of the sisters. But he had not expected to find her in what could only be described as the study.

His eyes roamed over the bookshelves and piles of paper. Did Thalia often spend time in her father's study? He raised his eyebrows when he spotted what Thalia had been reading. "Ledgers?" he mused. "What business do you have with those?"

Quickly, Thalia turned and slammed the book shut. "The business is my own."

He chuckled. Interesting. Very interesting.

"What are you doing here?" she asked again. "Or do you make it a habit of wandering about people's homes uninvited?"

"No. In fact, I have spent the last several minutes waiting for your butler to fetch your sister from her rooms. But neither Lady Selina nor your butler have appeared." He took a few steps into the room, still looking it over with detached curiosity. "So, I thought I would seek someone out myself."

When he glanced back at Thalia, he caught a brief glimpse of her embarrassment. "Mr. Poulter is aging," she murmured, ducking her head. "He must have forgotten that you called. I believe his mind is starting to go."

"Why not dismiss him?"

"I couldn't –" She caught herself. "He has been very good to us."

Benedict regarded her with renewed interest. He was not the only one, it would seem, who had respect for their staff and their years of service.

He noted, too, that Thalia looked a little disheveled. Clearly, she had been hard at work here. Her hair was ever so slightly coming loose from its styling. Her dress was also a little rumpled, showing that she had been fidgeting as she worked.

The mess was intriguing. He wanted to see this poised, in-control woman lose her restraint. He wanted to see her in an even more compromising position, wanted to see just how disheveled he could make her. And how much fun he would have doing it.

His body wanted it too. Just the thought of her beneath him, the image of her hair spread out on the pillow below him, made every inch of his body itch for her.

As Thalia's eyes followed his to her dress, she quickly reached down to smooth the front. Embarrassedly, she raised a hand to her head, checking that her hair was still in place.

"Stop."

She hesitated, hand frozen in the air.

Benedict took a step toward her. "It suits you," he murmured, eyes still roving over her. "This slightly disheveled look." He reached out a hand to spin a loose lock of hair between his thumb and forefinger. "Do not fix your hair. I like you like this."

He dropped his hand but did not pull back. He waited for Thalia to reply. But she seemed at a loss for words. "What?" he laughed. "Are you going to tell me that I am mistaken?"

She shook her head, a flush rising up her neck and to her cheeks.

"Ah, I think I understand," he mused, taking another step closer. He had to fight to rein in the desire to take her here and now. But the game of testing her, toeing the line, was nearly as tantalizing. "You are unused to such praise."

At that, Thalia's eyes flashed. Still blushing, she stepped away from him, moving to the other side of the small room. "What should you care of such matters? Whatever praise comes from you is only in pursuit of one thing. Something I will not dignify by naming."

"And it is that so wrong?" he continued, fighting a grin. He had flustered her. Now, in an attempt to hide it, she was trying to pick a fight. But two could play at that game. "I have made my intentions with you quite clear."

As her blush deepened, Benedict allowed himself a small chuckle. "Or have you forgotten?" he continued, moving to the side, prowling around her like a caged tiger. "Would you like me to remind you exactly what I should like to do to you?"

"I suppose you would love to see me melt in your hands," she retorted, still making a valiant effort to maintain her composure. "Such honeyed words may have worked on other women in the past, but I assure you they will not work on me. Nor will I give you the chance to try your luck upon my little sister."

Benedict took a step toward her, his voice low and perilous. "We are not speaking of your sister at the present. You are the one standing before me, testing the limits of my self-control."

He watched as his tone, words, and presence all had their intended effect on Thalia. By God, he loved how she blushed. He had never seen a woman fight her bodily instincts – her evident carnal desires – so fiercely. It set his own desire aflame.

Taking another step forward, Benedict decided to test her fortitude once more. Reaching out his hand again, he lifted it, trailing a slow, tantalizing trail down her cheek with the back of his knuckle. "I see you, Thalia," he murmured after a moment. "I know exactly what sort of woman you are. You cling to control because it is all you've ever known. All that has been given to you. But deep down," he continued, snaking an arm around the small of her back as he leaned in to murmur in her ear, "you want someone to take it from you. You want someone to tell you what to do for a change."

"And that is why," he added, using his grasp on her to gently guide her forward, pressing her body against his, "when I tell you to stay where you are, you will obey."

Benedict smiled as he felt a tremor run through Thalia.

She couldn't move. Her mind railed against her as Thalia stood before the duke, shivering against the hunger in his words. She told herself that this man had no power over her. He had no right to command anything of her.

And yet… perhaps he was not wrong.

The duke had spoken into being something which, perhaps, had lay hidden, curled up inside Thalia in the smallest, farthest corner of her consciousness. A desire. To obey. To be led for once, instead of having to beg others to follow. To relinquish control for a short, delicious moment. It was an enticing thought.

Benedict pulled back slightly, his lips leaving her ear, as he watched her closely. His arm still held her up against him. Not roughly, but firm. Commanding.

Thalia couldn't help but shudder again. At her movement, she watched a grin twist up the corner of Benedict's mouth. "Stay."

It was hardly more than a breath. One single word. And yet, Thalia's body was suddenly his - she could not help but do as he said.

The duke gave a sudden jerk of his arm, pulling Thalia to him as he closed the last of the space between them. His body was firm against her, taut and ready. He leaned forward, bringing his face just inches from hers. Unbidden, Thalia's eyes fluttered closed.

His breath was hot on her cheek, and it seemed as if his heat were catching – her face burned, the flames racing quickly down her neck, chest, abdomen, and even lower.

"I've wondered what your blushes would taste like," he murmured with dark amusement, a thumb running over her cheek, marking the places where her flush gave her away. The insinuation in his words made Thalia quiver. He chuckled at that, tightening his arm around her waist. She could not pull away, even if she wanted to.

"My, my blushes -?" she stammered, fighting against the pleasurable sensation of his thumb still grazing her cheek. In answer, Benedict closed the final distance between them. She gasped as she felt his tongue on her cheek, tasting her.

It was utterly scandalous. Thalia could hardly think, eyes closing again as if, subconsciously, she wished to savor the sensation all the more.

Benedict now kissed her cheek, trailing a line with his lips down to hers. But he continued to tease her, lingering just at the corner of her mouth.

"Are you curious?" he murmured, lips brushing her skin as he spoke.

"Curious?" Thalia was having trouble remembering what he was talking about.

"About what you taste like?"

A short, sharp intake of breath was all Thalia could manage. Her body was frozen in place, caught between her indignation at such a statement, and the tremendous desire that it stoked within her.

When Benedict finally kissed her, his lips were warm and, to her surprise, gentle. But he was not done teasing her just yet. He tested hers with his own first, slowly running his lips across hers. She shivered in anticipation; the gesture was infuriating. She dared not move, but she wanted more. Benedict, it would seem, felt the same. As Thalia continued to obey, to remain where she was, he gave way to a stronger need. An urgency.

His lips grew more fervent, pressing hers open so that he might take even more of her in his mouth. She felt the tantalizing touch of teeth as he caught up her bottom lip, gently, between his teeth.

Thalia fought to suppress a groan of desire. He continued to press for more and she could not help but go there with him, her body responding of its own accord. He pulled her closer, lips sending tingles of delight up and down her spine.

She bit back a gasp as his hands began to roam. They caressed her slowly as his lips continued to seek even more from her. Over her dress, his hands found her breasts, kneading them slightly, finally eliciting a groan of astonishment and arousal from her.

Light-headed, Thalia took a half step back, the sensations almost too much for her.

"Stay," Benedict commanded again, his voice huskier than before.

Delight surged through Thalia. He pulled her back to him and she willingly did as he commanded. As Benedict brought his lips to hers once more, she felt his mouth twist into a smile against hers. "Good girl," he murmured.

Oh God, yes! Thalia could not give a name to the sensation that coursed through her at that. But it was utterly overpowering.

Almost so consuming, that she did not hear the footsteps in the hall outside the study.

But as they drew closer, Benedict paused. She opened her eyes to see his own flash in recognition and, she thought, amusement.

Walking backward, Benedict held a finger to his lips. He placed himself behind the door, all the while holding her gaze in his.

The gentle rap of the butler's knock made Thalia jump. She instinctually put a hand to her hair to make sure that nothing was out of place. Then, catching Benedict's eye, she flushed.

"Lady Thalia?" came Mr. Poulter's call.

Hurrying to open the door for him, hoping to place herself in his path should the butler seek to step further into the study, Thalia moved quickly. On the other side of the door, the elderly butler waited patiently. "Yes?" she asked, trying to sound as indifferent as she could.

"I was wondering whether you had seen His Grace, the Duke of Ravenwood, ma'am," Mr. Poulter replied. "He arrived, inquiring after Lady Selina. But now he seems to have disappeared."

"No. I have not seen him." Thalia swallowed hard. Whatever effect Benedict had had upon her body was beginning to fade. And now that her head was clear, she was quickly realizing the danger of what had just occurred. Not only that but the stupidity of it.

"He must have thought better of it and left," she added, just a little louder than before. "A thing he would be most right in doing."

Was it her mind playing tricks on her, or did she hear a slight chuckle from behind the door at that? Angry with herself, Thalia forged on. "Mr. Poulter, will you assist me in the kitchen for a moment? I need to have a word with the cook."

The older man nodded and turned away. Thalia followed after him, still shaken, though she hoped not visibly so.

Despite herself, she risked a glance behind her at the study, just as she turned the corner out of the hall. There, in the doorway, stood Benedict. The grin on his face made Thalia's blood boil and her shame deepen.

Before he could see how he had affected her, Thalia turned on her heel and left.

"Are you sure it is enough?" Selina paced before her luggage, counting off on her fingers the number of gowns with which she intended to travel.

Thalia held back a sigh. "We are only to be there a few days," she reminded her sister. "I am sure the seven options you have packed will be more than enough."

Selina grinned. "What shall I wear to dinner?" she mused.

Her sister seemed to be in better spirits today. Thalia hoped that Selina had somewhat forgiven her for overstepping. However, she knew that, even if Selina's irritation had faded, it would not be long before Thalia stoked her sister's anger once more.

They were off to Ravenwood Manor this afternoon. The family – father and daughters included – were to spend several days on the duke's estate engaging in meals, games, and all manner of frivolous activities that the duke had planned.

Throughout which, Thalia was determined to plant herself between Selina and Benedict. They might be spending several days and nights in his presence, but that did not mean that he would be given the chance to seduce her little sister any more than he already had.

Especially after what Thalia had experienced in the study the other day. She could feel her cheeks growing warm at the memory. He had been playing with her, she knew. Testing her. All with the intent of winning her over so that he could step forward and claim his real prize: Selina.

Thalia could not help but give way to a swelling of guilt and embarrassment at the thought. But she quickly suppressed it.

She would ensure that the duke never did such a thing. For the sake of her sister's future happiness, Thalia would do everything she could to keep Selina and the duke apart.

"Father should be ready by now," Thalia mused, hoping to gently prompt her sister into action.

"What do you think the duke has planned?" Selina replied, sauntering away from her trunks and toward the window. Thalia took the opportunity to nod to her sister's maid, indicating that she and the footman standing by should take Selina's things to the carriage.

"I do not know."

"Are you not excited?" Selina asked, still dreamily staring out into the sunny scene laid before her. "I know that you have no love for the duke, but you must admit that this is a good sign. He has invited us to such a gathering, I would imagine, to get to know us better. He is making efforts to win you and Father over on my behalf."

"I would not hope for so much," Thalia cautioned. "He has paid you some attention, yes, but we do not know his intentions. Perhaps he would like to use this opportunity to get to know you better. But we do not know to what end. Or in what way."

Selina sighed and cast Thalia a withering look. Thalia knew she was getting dangerously close to sparking her sister's anger once more. "You still insist that he is trying to lure me into some terrible debauchery? Really, Thalia, you read too many novels. Your imagination is running away with you."

Biting her tongue, Thalia remained silent. She would not win this argument with her sister. Not until she had proof of the duke's wicked behavior.

For the briefest of moments, she considered telling her sister what had happened in the study with Benedict. But in the next moment, she reminded herself just what a terrible idea that was. Her guilt resurfaced as she pictured her sister's face upon hearing that the duke – the man she was interested in and, indeed, hoping for a proposal from – had kissed Thalia. She might grow angry, too, claiming that Thalia was a hypocrite. Had Thalia not essentially allowed herself to be alone with the duke and given him free rein to have his way with her? The very thing that Thalia had been cautioning Selina against? It was scandalous, to say the least. And the knowledge of it might well ruin the already struggling relationship between the two sisters. No, Thalia could not tell Selina.

Nor could she, however, keep her from going to the duke's manor. The matter of the gathering was settled. Their father had been overjoyed at the idea of a house party on the duke's estate and had accepted the invitation instantly. They were going. And that was that.

Finally, Thalia succeeded in shepherding her sister down the stairs and outside to where their father and the carriage waited.

"Ah, good, you're ready," their father grinned, clapping his hands together with evident excitement.

"Were you waiting long?" Thalia asked him.

"No, no, not at all. However, we must not waste any more time. The duke will be expecting us shortly." Jerome chuckled. "It has been some time since I have had a good round at the card table. But I am feeling lucky, my girls. This will be an enjoyable few days, I have no doubt."

Not for the first time, Thalia felt the distance between her family and herself. It seemed that she existed in a different world than them. Selina and Jerome were made to float through life, enjoying what came. She was glad of this. It was who they were, and she loved them for it. Even if it meant that she was left to hurry after them, doing her best to protect them from the dangers that only she seemed to see.

"Thalia?"

Her father's call stirred her from her thoughts. He was seated in the carriage already, with Selina beside him. She was moving to join them when she caught sight of Thomas, the footman. He was holding the door open for her but looking entirely out of sorts.

"Is everything all right?" she asked, pausing to catch his eye.

Starting a little, the man nodded quickly. He forced a smile onto his features. "Perfectly, Ma'am."

Unconvinced, Thalia took her seat in the carriage across from Selina and Jerome.

The journey to Ravenwood Manor was not long. But Thalia's apprehension increased with every mile. Just what devious diversions did the duke have in store for them? He was a man accustomed to playing with fire and something inside Thalia told her that his games had only just begun.

"Aha, here we are," Jerome murmured before long, the carriage rattling to a stop. Thalia took a deep breath. She had never been to the duke's estate before. And she had no idea what to expect.

But, as she allowed her father and sister out of the carriage first, Thalia could not help but gasp as she turned to take in the scene before her.

It was beautiful. The great manor rose before them, garnished with perfectly manicured hedges and trees. Every inch of the place seemed to be expertly attended to, no corner forgotten. The entire place spoke of history: a long-running family line with dignity, respect, and wealth. Beside her, Thalia heard her sister sigh with appreciation. Then, Selina giggled.

It was not until she turned to her sister that she realized Selina was seeing something she was not. Thalia followed Selina's gaze to the front door, which was now open behind a tall, broad-shouldered figure.

Her heart sank.

There, waiting to greet them with a grin of obvious amusement, was Benedict.