Chapter 6

CHAPTER6

“If you would excuse me, I think I must retire for the night.”

“Oh. Yes, of course.”

Bridget tried not to seem sad as the Earl of Burnington stood from his place on the other side of the card table. They had spent the last hour together playing cards, and Bridget had tried at every opportunity to flirt with him, to employ some of the things that Lord Ramsbury had taught her that morning, but she wasn’t convinced her tactics were working.

For one thing, Lord Burnington had never flirted back, and here he was, retiring at nine o’clock in the evening.

“Goodnight, My Lord.”

“Good night.” He smiled and retreated from the table, but before he left the room, he walked over to the other guests and wished them goodnight too, sharing a jest or two with the ladies, who turned eagerly toward him.

I have too much competition. That is the greatest obstacle to this foolish aim of mine.

Bridget sighed and lowered her cards to the table. She and the Earl hadn’t even finished their game when he had announced he was retiring for the night. She looked down at her fingers, thinking how bare her ring finger looked with nothing on it.

Was it so wrong to long to be married? Or to want the next stage in life? Surely not. Yet, as she chewed on her lower lip, she began to wonder if Lord Burnington was the right man to set her cap for.

He does not seem particularly interested.

“Would you like to finish your game?”

The chair opposite her was pulled backwards again, and Lord Ramsbury sat down in it.

“Oh. You do not have to finish it with me, My Lord.”

“Come off it.” He laughed and sat back, folding his arms. “Any man would have to be blind not to see you were enjoying your game and are now disappointed it has to end.”

“I am not sure if I am so easy to read or if you are just that good at reading me,” Bridget returned, thinking about where he had been sitting a few minutes before.

Many card tables had been set up in the room, and she was perhaps sitting in the darkest corner, with just one candle in the center of the table to keep her company. Lord Ramsbury had been far across the room, in a wingback chair, a pipe in his hand as he stared at the fire, a book in his lap. She hadn’t even been aware he had been watching her at all.

“Perhaps I just find you easy to read.” He winked at her. “Come on. What game were you playing? If I see you smile again tonight, then it will be worth me playing any game you can suggest.”

“You are too kind,” she whispered and shuffled the cards together. “We were playing cribbage.”

“Excellent, then that’s what we shall play.”

He waited for her to shuffle and deal the cards. As she laid them out and they prepared their cribs, she felt his eyes on her.

“What is it?” she murmured, glancing over her shoulder, suddenly nervous that Rachel might object to her spending time with him again.

“I was just wondering how things fare with Lord Burnington?” Lord Ramsbury asked, leaning forward as they began their game, each playing their cards.

“You must know it is not going well.” Bridget looked to the heavens pleadingly.

“He spent most of the evening with you.”

“Yet retires early and never once flirts back.”

“Ah, the question is, are you being obvious enough in your flirtation?”

“I am perhaps not being quite as obvious as you were earlier today,” she whispered, thinking of how close they had been out in the woodland.

Bridget couldn’t deny she had thought about it much, and each time she had done so, her hands had tingled. In particular, she had thought of the moment when Lord Ramsbury had looked at her lips, and she wondered what he had truly been thinking at that moment.

Is it possible he was thinking of kissing me?

“Then we should have your second lesson. You see, there are ways that can be obvious to flirt with another, whilst they are subtle to everyone else in the room.” As he spoke, he seemed to concentrate completely on their game, putting cards down on the table.

He appeared to be so focused, she was not prepared for what he did next.

“How do you mean? Oh!”

His foot brushed against hers under the table. He didn’t even look at her as he did it, adjusting his stance so that his ankle lay across hers.

There was something intimate about that touch, so close that her fingers fumbled with her cards.

“And… no one will see?”

“Your skirt helps to hide it,” he whispered, his smile starting to glimmer through as he looked up at her. “As for the rest, it is too dark in this corner for anyone else to see anything. It is your go, by the way. A little distracted, My Lady?”

“Of course not!”

However, Bridget was incredibly distracted, indeed. She played her card and waited for him to make his move, realizing that she was not just waiting for his next card, but also the movement of his foot.

He answered her, shifting his foot so that the sides of their calves were pressed against one another, right up to their knees.

“Shall we count up?” he asked as he played the final card.

She nodded wordlessly, not sure she could trust her voice to be level at that moment. He had more points this time, and in his crib too, which put him out in front.

“It is your move, Lady Bridget,” Lord Ramsbury said as he took the cards and shuffled them.

Baffled, Bridget stared at him for a moment before realizing that he wasn’t talking about the cards at all.

“You do not need to be afraid with me, Lady Bridget.”

There was something so comforting in his deep voice that she felt bold, in a way she had never felt before.

Bridget turned her foot and then lifted it, in such a way that she was able to brush the side of her foot against Lord Ramsbury’s calf. The movement was slow, a tease, in such a way that he began to smile, even as he kept his eyes down on the cards he was shuffling. He gave no other sign of knowing what she was doing. It made her feel completely secluded in this part of the room with him, far away from everyone else, especially her sisters.

As Lord Ramsbury dealt out the cards, she picked up her hand and decided to be bolder still, to completely push the boundaries.

She raised her foot higher and managed to move it up his inner thigh, before she stopped. His eyebrows shot so high up his temple that she had to bite her lip to stop herself from smiling.

“Good hand, My Lord? There must be a reason for your reaction,” Bridget whispered, nodding at the cards in his grasp.

“Oh, there is a reason,” Lord Ramsbury said with a smile as they cut the cards and made up their cribs. “Lord knows why I think you need a lesson in flirtation. When the walls come down, you seem to manage very well on your own.”

The compliment did more to Bridget than anything else he could have said as she let her foot slide down his leg again. The idea that she could be good at flirtation, after all, left her feeling empowered, stronger, and not so mouse-like.

“My turn first.”

She played down her first card, and he followed suit. They played a few cards, with their feet scarcely moving at all. Sometimes, he would angle his foot around a little, moving in such a way that his leg brushed against hers all the more. Once, she lifted her foot high, teasing him with the possibility of trailing up his inner thigh once more, but she held back and didn’t quite go all the way.

He seemed flustered at this point and shed his tailcoat, despite the fact that the air in the room was quite cool due to the chill beyond the windows. He was heated, flinging his jacket across the back of his chair as he rolled up his sleeves and sat forward.

“Heated, My Lord?”

“Heated thoughts,” he muttered, his eyes on the cards.

“What thoughts?”

At her question, his gaze flicked up from the cards, meeting hers. “You still practicing your flirtation?”

“Perhaps.”

“You’re getting better all the time.”

He placed down one of his cards and tapped it on the table, giving no sign of pulling his hand back. As Bridget laid her card down too, his fingers brushed the inside of her wrist.

She gasped at the sudden sensation. It was tantalizing, albeit brief, and he pulled back again, smiling as if he had been victorious in their card game.

If such a small touch feels so exciting…

Bridget’s mind wandered. If fleeting touches could excite, she wondered what bold touches could do. What if Lord Ramsbury took her waist again, but this time, there was nothing between them? What if his hands wandered up her thighs, following a path that her foot had just made up his legs?

“It is your turn, My Lady.” Lord Ramsbury pulled her out of her daydream as he placed down another card. “What were you thinking then? You were deep in thought.”

“I was.”

She adjusted her position under the table, allowing her to curve her foot around his calf, and trailed her foot up the back of his leg. She had lost her shoe, so she did it with just her stocking-clad foot.

It seemed to have an effect on Lord Ramsbury, who sat forward, adjusting his collar, his skin becoming flushed. “I imagine you can guess my thoughts at this moment. What are yours?”

“I was wondering…” Bridget didn’t know what made her do it. It could have been their lessons, or perhaps the fact that in this shadowy corner, she felt completely alone and safe with him. Either way, she wasn’t averse to telling him the truth. “If such fleeting touches can cause excitement, I wonder what much bolder touches could do.”

Lord Ramsbury placed down his next cards, fidgeting so much with the ones in his hands and turning them around and around in his palm that she was quite entranced as she watched him.

Bridget was not unaware that she fidgeted just as much as him. She was leaning forward, in danger of falling out of her chair, as she fumbled with her cards. Repeatedly, one of her hands lifted and pushed back a loose curl of her light-brown hair that kept falling past her cheek.

“Do you wish to know what it could be like?” Lord Ramsbury whispered, his smile growing. “You wish to be told?”

“Perhaps.”

Bridget couldn’t help being curious. She had heard enough from her sisters to judge something about the feeling if not everything.

“First things first.”

They finished their round, and he pushed the cards toward her so she could shuffle them again. She gathered them together quickly, aware of his fingers brushing against her own. She chewed on her lip, indulging in the feeling that each brush of his fingers made a spiral of pleasure coil in her lower stomach. When wetness pooled between her legs, she shifted in her chair, startled.

“You do know what happens, do you not?” Lord Ramsbury whispered, his words barely audible at all. “Between a man and a woman.”

“Of course, I do.” She rolled her eyes. “I have two married sisters. I would have to be deaf not to know what happens.”

“But do you know everything that can happen or just the ultimate deed?”

His words startled her so much that she dropped half the pack of cards. They went everywhere, slipping under the table in such a way that she was forced to release her leg from where it was tangled.

“Oh, dear!” a lady cried from across the room. “Methinks Lady Bridget has had one too many tonight!”

Laughter followed this statement.

Bridget blushed from embarrassment and pushed back her chair, dropping to her knees and reaching under the table to collect the cards. She was not alone.

Lord Ramsbury dropped under the table from the other side and collected the cards too.

“Well?” he whispered.

Now that they were completely under the table, even their expressions were hidden from others in the room, not just their conversation.

“Do you know what else can happen? Everything?”

“When you say everything…” Bridget halted from collecting the cards, as did Lord Ramsbury. They were leaning toward one another under the table.

“Where hands can wander,” he whispered, leaning toward her so near that his lips were practically brushing her ear. “Where a man can touch you, to start a feeling you have not known before.”

Bridget shuddered, but it was a pleasant kind of shudder. More wetness pooled between her legs.

“I…” Words failed her. There were questions she longed to ask.

Just where would he touch me if I asked him to? What sorts of feelings is he talking about?

“You wish to have some answers?” Lord Ramsbury asked, leaning back a little, enough so that she could look him in the eye.

“I do,” she murmured, her voice thick. “Is it wrong to be curious?”

“Not in the slightest. I was curious once myself.” His green eyes didn’t blink as he stared at her. She became quite lost, looking back at him. “I learned what true pleasure can be like.”

“That’s why you’re a rake?” she asked, her voice light. “Is it the company you crave? Or… the pleasure?”

“Once you’ve tasted the pleasure, it is like tasting the finest glass of wine you have ever had, My Lady. One taste is never enough.” He moved toward her.

Bridget was stunned. For a second, she thought Lord Ramsbury was going to kiss her under the table, but surely he could not. They were in a room full of people!

His hand found that loose lock of hair that kept brushing against her cheek, and he tucked it behind her ear, his fingers leaving a fiery trail across her cheek and the top of her neck.

“Ask me, and I’ll give you that taste.”

“I—”

“Ahem.”

Lord Ramsbury started and hit his head on the underside of the table.

Bridget bit her lip to stop herself from laughing as she gathered the cards and crept out from under the table. Beside them was Rachel, her arms folded as she stared between the pair of them.