Chapter 17

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Oscar stood as the ladies entered Lord Daventry’s drawing room. His breath caught as he took in Agatha’s stiff-backed posture. Today she looked elegant in plum muslin, no insipid prints for her, and her eyes flashed with guarded warmth that he soaked in quickly.

Lillian swept past him in a rustle of green silk and let Daventry gather her in his arms. “Did you have a pleasant morning, sweetheart?” he whispered to his wife as his hands roved over her back and dipped lower.

Oscar looked away, giving them privacy. Unfortunately, his gaze settled on Agatha again. His former lover was looking anywhere but at the newly married couple, too. Oscar crossed the room, keeping the kissing couple hidden behind his back, to stand before her. More than anything he wanted to take her into his arms too. She must have read his intentions because her body swayed back a little.

Rather than embrace her, he glanced over his shoulders at the married couple. “They can be a little inconsiderate in displaying their affections at times, but I do think passion in a marriage must make for a comfortable life.”

“They are happy,” Agatha whispered back.

Their eyes met and held. “That they are. But I’ve never met a couple so prone to forget they have company.” Oscar spoke the last words with greater strength, hoping the kissing couple would hear them and end their embrace.

Lilly giggled. “My apologies again, Lord Carrington. Giles brings out the worst in me.”

Oscar turned and smiled. “From what I’ve seen, you are quite the matched pair. And please, it’s Oscar.”

Lilly quirked her eye at Agatha. “Perhaps we could be informal today. I do find it quite agreeable. Do you mind, Miss Birkenstock?”

“Whatever the countess commands is perfectly agreeable to me.” Agatha laughed as Lilly rushed her, stepping away from the countess’ mock fury. “All right, all right, Lilly it is.”

The two women embraced quickly, but then Lilly linked their arms. “Gentlemen, we are to eat informally today, as well. Luncheon will be served in the rose room in less than half an hour.”

“Of course,” Oscar murmured.

Lilly’s pain returned more quickly if forced to dine formally for every meal. To compensate, and keep her happy, Daventry dined very informally. Society would be shocked if they knew the earl and his wife forced their guests to eat while reclining upon the pillow-strewn floor.

With a saucy wink for her husband, Lilly dragged Agatha from the room.

“They get along well,” Oscar murmured, missing Agatha the minute she disappeared from sight. Their steps disappeared along the hall, and then all grew quiet again.

Daventry clapped a stunning blow to his shoulder. “They are the best of friends. I am happy Lilly has some feminine company from time to time.”

Oscar turned, catching an odd expression on his friend’s face. “I should have thought you’d want her all to yourself. I’ve often felt in the way when I come to call.”

Daventry grimaced. “Believe me, I’m grateful for any distraction.”

“You are? Why? Are you not as happily married as you seem?”

Daventry raked his fingers through his hair. “My wife is impossible to resist. ”

Oscar couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. The most debauched rake in London, tamed by a mere slip of a girl. The idea would be absolutely absurd if he wasn’t certain it was true. The Earl of Daventry was a smitten man—deeply devoted to his wife and faithful to a fault.

“Don’t laugh. Lilly wants a child.”

Oscar sank onto the arm of a chair, nonplussed. “And you don’t?”

The earl didn’t answer at first. He seemed hesitant to confirm or deny Oscar’s question. He turned away and his hands raked through his hair again. He gave the ginger locks a harsh tug and then turned. “I do want children,” the earl whispered. “It’s just that Lilly is…”

“Delicate.” Oscar finished for him when he couldn’t seem to end his sentence. Of course, that was a worry for any man. But in Daventry’s case, his fears for Lilly might have some validity. From what he understood, Lilly’s condition had altered drastically once the earl had got his hands on her, quite literally the same night. His skill at seduction had reduced her pain significantly, but a birth—he didn’t know how that would go, either.

“Have you spoken to Lilly about this?”

Daventry dropped into a chair and pressed his head into the seat back. “No. I don’t want to say anything that might disappoint her. She’s had enough of that already.”

At some point, close to when Lilly and the earl had become reacquainted, Lilly’s family had given up on her recovering her health. That she was well enough for rational conversation and not deeply drugged by laudanum was entirely thanks to Daventry’s inappropriate and scandalous behavior. Oscar drew in a deep breath. What Daventry needed was advice: advice from females who would forgive any blunt and indelicate questions, but not gossip about him later. He needed his family. But his mother was dead these past years and his sister a veritable shrew who’d make a fuss.

“I doubt anything you do would disappoint that woman, but you should talk to her about your fears.” Daventry didn’t look convinced. “At least, consider it. In the interim, should I approach my mother for advice for you? She’s always nattering on about women’s complaints. She’s from Town at present, but she returns tomorrow.”

Daventry bowed his head. “She’s invited to tomorrow night’s dinner. Did you know?”

“Actually, no. If I catch her as she arrives home, you might be able to have a quick word with her in private without Lilly realizing. Who else is coming?”

Daventry, if it were possible, looked decidedly uncomfortable as he rattled off the acceptances.

Oscar pushed to his feet, quite prepared to bolt from the house. “My God. What were you thinking?” Both his former lover and future wife were to dine together in the same house, on the same night, at his best friend’s table. It would be a catastrophe. It was his worst nightmare come to life.

Although, when he thought about it properly, his current life was as much a nightmare as it could possibly be.

Daventry grasped his arm in a tight grip. “I couldn’t convince Lilly of the problems, and I forbid you to make the evening more difficult for her. She’s a bundle of nerves as it is.”

“Was Agatha informed of the guest list?”

“Agatha has helped Lilly plan the dinner party, right down to the seating arrangements. She knows exactly who’s coming and didn’t say a word.” Daventry gave his arm a rough shake then set him free. “We’ll muddle through. Somehow.”

Oscar settled to a chair. Agatha was in for an uncomfortable night and there was nothing he could do about it.

The luncheon bell rang out and Oscar’s anxiety returned with the last bell.

Daventry hurried from the room, no doubt heading for their informal luncheon. But Oscar lingered, trying desperately to work out what he could do or say to make tomorrow night less of a trial for Agatha. Unfortunately, his mind had completely blanked of witty, clever, or even desperate suggestions.

Maybe he should have stepped between Bartholomew and Lilly and let him pull the trigger. The pain of death might have been brief, but it would have been far preferable to the hell he had to live. Anything would be better than his current life.

A timid tap at the door snapped his head up. Agatha stood waiting, fingers curled around the door frame. “You left me alone with them.” Her face was grave, but her eyes sparkled in amusement.

“Sorry.” Oscar dragged himself to his feet and walked the few short steps until they stood side by side.

Her blue eyes widened. “You really are unwell.”

When her hand rose to cup his jaw, he closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. He couldn’t help it. He had the sudden urge to confess every single fear he possessed, to tell her about the endless nightmare of his dreams. But he couldn’t do that here. There was no reason for his friends to discover how badly he was affected.

Agatha’s thumb brushed across his lower lip. He drew in a ragged breath, tears causing a sting to his eyes at the tenderness of her touch. He didn’t try to reassure Agatha that he was well, because he had an inkling he’d started down this path the moment he’d let her go.

Agatha pressed her hand to his chest and he stepped back, eyes still closed. He couldn’t help but react physically to Agatha even if he didn’t want to. Tomorrow night’s dinner would be awkward in the extreme if he couldn’t hide his longing for her.

The sound of the door closing and the lock snapping shut opened his eyes. Agatha had locked them in. She stood with her head turned slightly to the side, eyeing him with concern. He tried to pull himself together, but regaining his composure was beyond him. Agatha’s arms slipped around his waist and she hugged him against her.

He folded, adjusting his height a little so they rested more comfortably together, her legs wedged between his widespread ones, his lips inches from her skin.

Agatha’s hands skimmed his waist, thumbs sliding over his waistcoat, fingertips burrowing under the band of his trousers. The warmth of her touch set his body aflame. He fought it, striving to keep his wits about him in a sea of desire. Agatha breathed deep, and then lifted her face to his.

Their lips touched without effort. Warmth pressing them together, desire making their bodies as restless as the wind. Agatha slipped her tongue past his lips. He let her be the aggressor. As much as he wanted her, he could never force her to act so recklessly in her best friend’s house .

He should stop her.

But Agatha’s fingers were digging beneath his clothes restlessly, tugging at his clothing with impatient hands. His shirt came free of his trousers and Agatha’s hands scorched his flesh.

“Agatha, no.”

Her fingers squeezed his flesh tight, her head burrowed to his shoulder. “You’ll be married soon?”

Oscar pressed his lips to her hair. “Yes.”

“You’ll be a faithful husband. This is our last chance.” Agatha’s impatient fingers snapped the buttons of his trousers open.

“Daventry will come looking for us. We cannot act out our desires here.”

Her hand burrowed and closed upon his thickened cock. Oscar groaned.

“Lilly has plans for the earl. She wishes for some extended time alone with him. I am to distract you while they talk.”

“It’s working,” he whispered. Privacy and a willing accomplice to their rendezvous. What more could a desperate man ask for?

Oscar crushed Agatha against his chest, trapping her hand between his legs as she worked to arouse him. She didn’t have to work too hard. It would take very little to push him to the peak. He slipped a hand over her hip, enjoying the firmness of her body. As his fingers found the limit of his reach, she bent her knee, curling her hips into his thigh. He rocked her against him as she shuddered and worked harder at arousing him. Her hand squeezed and pulled in a delicious rhythm, disintegrating his resistance completely.

They turned, and Oscar pressed Agatha against the bookcase. His fingers wandered down her leg and then slowly, very deliberately, raised her gown past her knees.

“Stop me.”

Agatha’s free hand cupped his face. “Never.”

Her lips settled on his again, searching and destroying his ability to think. She was, quite simply, voracious for him. Given that Oscar felt the same way, he dragged her gown the remaining distance until his fingers curled around her warm thighs. She was restless, hungry, and when his fingers brushed her curls, he found her wet for him.

He couldn’t stop.

Agatha widened her legs.

A knock sounded on the closed door. Oscar’s eyes opened and he glanced around them guiltily. They were still alone. He pressed his brow hard against Agatha’s. “Almost.”

Her fingers slipped from his cheek, her body left him slowly, a tender parting that threatened to undo him once more. Her breath panted rapidly over his throat. “Perhaps next time we’ll be luckier. I suppose we should rejoin our hosts.”

Despite the disappointment, Oscar chuckled. “Must we?”

Agatha nipped at his jaw. “Lilly would be disappointed if we never came out.”

“And Daventry would be offended if that happened.”

“Damn right,” Lord Daventry growled from the other side of the door. “Join us as soon as you’re both decent again.”

The earl’s footsteps hurried away.

Agatha grinned at Oscar. “We have no choice. For now.”

Desire still gripped Oscar. His prick ached. He shook his head sadly. “None at all.”

Agatha kissed him fiercely. When she pushed against his chest, he staggered. “Until later tonight, then?”

Oscar’s heart raced. His body, his blood, demanded action. His hands needed nothing but the sweet softness of Agatha Birkenstock in his arms one more time. Judging by Agatha’s high color, their desires were in perfect alignment once more.