Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

W hat am I doing? Meliah's conscience was screaming at her. Hadn't she just threatened to leave if the earl didn't curb his impulses? And yet, she couldn't very well criticize him for his behavior when she was allowing it to continue.

If she was honest with herself, she was already well aware of the sort of man that Lord Belmont was. She could write an article about the last few hours and it would be enough to prove ‘The Belle's' accusations, under the belief that there was nothing left to save. So why was she staying? She wanted to attribute it to the fact that she had no way to return unless it was on foot, but that wasn't all. She would have to leave Lord Belmont behind and his presence was quite… exhilarating.

She had always been sheltered, forced to spend her days toiling to make ends meet. Perhaps for the first time in her life she wanted to be selfish and live the life she'd always imagined, the fairy tale for however long it lasted. Not only was the earl rather handsome, but she enjoyed the attentions that he was showering upon her. Was that so terrible—to feel wanted by such a man?

Although she didn't intend to give herself fully to him, surely there couldn't be any harm in a slight flirtation? He had told her that he would never force himself on any woman, and not just because he'd boasted that there was no need. It was true she didn't know him that well, but her instincts told her that he was being sincere.

And the slight kisses he'd given her before had merely intrigued her. Surely another small demonstration wouldn't be amiss?

As he slowly lowered his head, Meliah reached back and grasped the table's edge. Curling her hands around the hard wood, she closed her eyes as their lips met for the third time.

Again, the embrace wasn't hurried. It was as if he were trying to ensure that his actions weren't prohibited. She hardly dared to take a breath as he continued to explore her mouth, but when he ran the tip of his tongue along the seam of her lips, she gasped in surprise. When he slipped his tongue inside her mouth, she decided that perhaps that was enough.

She lifted her hands and put them on his chest, but when his tongue began to slide sensually along hers, she found herself clutching the edges of his shirt instead.

Meliah felt his hand at the small of her back as he pressed her closer to him. Her breasts brushed against his hard chest, and it wasn't an unwelcome sensation. In fact, it was particularly… nice.

As he deepened the kiss, his hand slid around to the side of her waist and slowly moved upward, along her ribcage. The breath that she had been holding abruptly released and her grip on his shirt increased. When his hand continued upward, his thumb brushing the side of her breast, heat immediately enveloped her body and her heart started to pound furiously.

Again, she considered pushing him away, but when his hand moved to cover her breast entirely, his wicked thumb daring to toy with her taut nipple, her head started to spin. She knew if she disengaged herself from the earl now, she probably wouldn't be able to stand on her own two feet.

When he moved away from her mouth, she gasped for some much-needed air, feeling that was the cause for her sudden dizziness, but when he bent his head and started to suckle her neck, Meliah shuddered. Waves of awareness pulsed through her body, and she had to wonder if this was the usual behavior of a society rake. If so, she had to think that the ladies who had captured the attention of the gentlemen mentioned by ‘The Belle' before Lord Belmont were very lucky indeed.

"Do you like it when I kiss you, Meliah?"

She thrilled at the sound of her name crossing his lips with that deep, seductive purr. "Yes." There was no point in denying her reaction when it must have been obvious that she was enjoying his attentions.

"What about when I touch you?"

He squeezed her breast lightly and her head tilted back. "Yes."

"Do you want me to stop?"

She should have given her previous answer. It wouldn't have been so difficult, but instead, she shook her head and dared herself to look at him. "Not yet."

His blue gaze was riveting, fixed on her face. "It seems you are eager to learn more about me then." A slight breeze struck her legs, and she froze when she realized he was lifting up her skirts. She was about to still his actions, but he added, "Do you want to know what I can do?"

At that, she refrained. Curiosity propelled her to know more.

At the soft touch of his hand on her inner thigh, Meliah bit her lower lip. His eyes darkened to chips of sapphire as he captured her mouth once more. She moaned as he immediately deepened the embrace. Passion shot through every fiber of her being, but it wasn't until he dared to slide a finger along her core that she ripped her mouth away from his.

"What are you?—?"

"Trust me," he cajoled, and kissed her again.

Drawn back into this carnal world, Meliah tried to relax as he touched her intimately again. This time it wasn't so much a danger as an… interest. It was a strange sensation to have someone else's hands on her body, to touch her as she'd never touched herself.

She tried to tell herself not to be abhorrent of this moment. She would likely never have another chance to experience lovemaking, so it would be best to learn what occurred between a man and a woman to be better warned in the future.

She had just convinced herself that this was simply for learning purposes that she was allowing this to continue. That was, until he touched a certain spot that caused her to lift up on her toes and her entire midsection to quiver. She moved her hands to his shoulders and clung to him.

Dear heavens …

It was meant to be another harmless flirtation. Just a slight, chaste kiss that would continue to tempt her. However, Elwood hadn't been prepared for her instantaneous reactions to his touch. It was like lighting a match to tinder and he was finding it difficult not to take things too far.

He certainly didn't want to scare her, nor did he want her first time to be against a pool table like some sort of dockside doxy, but when the moment struck, he was finding it difficult to ignore the sweet temptation that she provided.

He kept telling himself that she would tell him no, that she would put a stop to this madness since he didn't seem capable of doing so. For all of his sexual prowess, he was being done in by this slip of a woman, a commoner—and a virgin, the sort of women he'd always eschewed. That should have been enough for him to remove his hands as if she carried the plague. Unfortunately, the problem was her blazing response to him. It was enough to fuel the flames of his own desire. It hadn't been that long since he'd been with another woman, and yet, the fire pouring through his veins was unlike anything else he'd experienced before.

As each one of her breaths became faster and more shallow, Elwood knew that she was getting close to her peak. He vowed that he would halt things after she had found her pleasure, while he took his release in solitude, regardless if his cock was throbbing in opposition to that idea. He wanted nothing more than to lose himself between those sweet thighs, but although he was a rake, he wasn't a man completely without a moral compass.

Then again…

She groaned, and the sound caused Elwood to grit his teeth. Her nails were digging into his upper arms and he intended to absorb every delightful half-moon that would be imprinted upon his skin.

He increased his movements until suddenly, she coiled and tightened. She gave a sharp gasp and then her eyes closed as she gave herself over to the ecstasy. Her hips rolled, as if she understood what was happening if her mind hadn't yet fully captured the concept.

He watched her lovely face flush, and he desperately wanted to see if that alluring shade of pink went all over her body. In the end, it was enough to know that he had given her that first taste of satisfaction. If she decided that they didn't go any further than this, he could live with the knowledge that she would never forget this moment with him.

He would surely never forget it.

As she was still recovering from the haze of passion, Elwood slipped his hand from beneath her skirts, but he wasn't sure she really noticed. Her gorgeous green eyes were heavy and it looked as though the late-night escapades which had abruptly turned into a morning tryst were starting to take their toll.

"You look tired."

She turned a bit sheepish, although her tone was light when she remarked, "Yes, well, I suppose learning billiards is quite exhausting."

He grinned at the quip, and then bent down and lifted her into his arms. Her eyes popped wide open. "What are you doing?"

"Carrying you to bed?—"

"Excuse me, sir," she began haughtily, "but I don't believe I gave you leave to?—"

"—to get some rest," he finished, effectively cutting off her tirade.

"Oh."

He chuckled as he carried her out of the room and down the hall to her bedchamber. The door was open, but instead of taking her all the way inside, he set her on her feet at the threshold. "I don't trust myself to go any further," he murmured. His cock was still quite furious at him for leaving things unfinished.

She nodded, and opened her mouth to speak, but seemed to think better of it, because she closed it and shook her head with a slight frown.

He took pity on her and offered the dismissal she was apparently having trouble saying. "Sleep well."

He turned on his heel as her door closed softly behind her.

Once the door shut, Meliah leaned against it with a heavy exhale. Her body was humming. She didn't know it was possible for her body to feel such raw emotion, but she certainly understood how Lord Belmont had earned the title of the current rake of the month. She couldn't dare try and explain her interlude with the earl, nor how she would never be the same because of it. With a few touches and softly spoken words, he had changed her, perhaps irrevocably. It was as if something wild and… primitive had been set free inside of her. Her purpose in following Lord Belmont was to learn the truth, but she feared she was in danger of learning much more than that before she returned to London.

And she wasn't entirely dismayed about it.

She walked over to the bed and flopped down on top of it, still fully clothed in the pink dress. This poor gown was going to be in shambles before she returned it. The seamstress was likely going to consider it a lost cause. The sad thing was that it wasn't Meliah's to begin with, so the guilt she was feeling from the temporary loan was starting to gnaw at her.

However, the attraction she felt toward the earl was stronger. And decidedly more dangerous.

Rolling onto her side, she contemplated everything that had happened. Her body was still throbbing in the aftermath of… whatever he'd done to her. Something told her she'd experienced what her friend, Samantha, referred to as the "Little Death." She had mentioned it was a sensation unlike any other and what the maids gossiped about when they thought they weren't being overheard by a simple orange seller.

For a moment, Meliah wondered if she hadn't soared to the heavens.

A sigh escaped her and she reminded herself that she was a writer, and she shouldn't be engaging in such shameful activity if she wanted to be considered as a respectful journalist. Her parents would certainly be horrified if they knew she was acting in such a manner without the benefit of a proper proposal.

She turned around and laid flat on her back again. Throwing one arm up behind her head, she contemplated her childhood, the fate of women, and the bleak future that stretched out before her if she didn't succeed in fulfilling her dreams. The earl carried enough power that he could put in a good word for her, and although he was a rake, he was still a peer of the realm. People took notice when a lord was speaking. She supposed she could strike a deal with Lord Belmont, but that wasn't how she wanted to earn her reputation. She wanted to achieve it by her merit, not because of any sort of bribery or browbeating attempt.

And yet, as much as she told herself to focus on the truth, she was curious to know more about this morning. Could that brilliant sensation happen more than once? Were there other ways it might happen?

The earl might not have intended to awaken her desires, but her mother had always claimed Meliah was a passionate child. She had always been eager to learn more about the world, to explore everything it had to offer.

What else did Lord Belmont have to offer?

She grinned, thinking of the possibilities. If she was going to go so far as to ruin herself, shouldn't it be with a known rake who knew how to properly please a woman?

She considered the shoemaker next to her parent's weaver shop and had to wince. He was a middle-aged widower, and although he might have three children that toiled away in the shop with him, Meliah didn't think that he was capable of pleasing anyone but himself. He was a gruff sort that barked orders at his children and scowled at her when she passed by in the street. She definitely didn't want to know what it was like to lay with someone like that. Although her father had promised her that she wouldn't have to marry anyone unless it was of her choosing, Meliah had to wonder how long his generosity would last. She was one and twenty years of age, and although she might not be considered a full spinster as yet, she was approaching the age when she would be "on the shelf." She didn't want to be a hardship on her parents even if she was expected to take up the reins of the shop someday.

She supposed she would have to decide whether or not to continue allowing the earl's attentions—or keep things strictly off limits until arrangements could be made for her to return to London.

With that question still swirling in her mind, she finally drifted off to sleep.

When Meliah awoke, the sun was high in the sky. She squinted her gaze against the blinding light and checked the nearby clock. It read half past three.

She blinked several times, realizing that she had nearly slept the entire day away. Granted, she hadn't had a wink of sleep the night before, but if she didn't rouse herself now, the same would hold true for this evening.

Getting out of bed, she was pleasantly surprised to see a silver tea service on the side table and water in the basin. It was slightly warm, the tea still tepid, which proved that it hadn't been sitting there overlong. There was also a note which she assumed was from Lord Belmont, as the script was perfectly written with a masculine flourish. The idea that he had placed it there himself as she slept caused her stomach to give an excited flip.

I hope you are well rested. I have done as promised and procured a few gowns for you. They are in the wardrobe, along with some other things that most ladies deem necessary. Feel free to explore the manor at your leisure.

As her stomach rumbled, she was thankful to see cucumber sandwiches and cheese, as well as some fruit and various desserts.

She munched happily, and then washed the best that she could with the soap that had also been laid out for her use. She wondered if the earl had been responsible for that as well, or if one of the servants was in residence. If the latter was true, she could only imagine what the earl had said about her presence there.

She removed the pink gown and tried to smooth the wrinkles the best that she could and then removed a sprigged muslin gown from the wardrobe, woven with dark red leaves. After brushing her hair and braiding it into a neat plait, she wound it at the crown of her head and decided that she looked as serene as she could.

She opened her chamber door and glanced about the hallway. It was deserted. However, she wasn't sure what she might find—the earl lurking about perhaps?

She smirked, the image rather ludicrous, and headed for the kitchens. Lord Belmont had told her that she had free reign of the house, so she decided she would visit with the downstairs staff, if anyone was around.

Finding the back stairs, she made her way to the lower level, but found no one there. The ovens weren't on and it looked as deserted as the rest of the house upstairs.

Meliah took a deep breath. Very well . If she wasn't to introduce herself to anyone, she decided that it was time to do a bit of investigation. While she might not discover much about the earl at his father's hunting box, perhaps she might get fortunate. She glanced overhead and decided that most things that were hidden were generally in an attic, so that was where she would begin.

She reached a door at the end of the hall, then she reached out and checked the knob, half expecting to find it locked. Excitement shot through her when she discovered the opposite was true.

Lifting her skirts, she climbed the steep stairs and waved a hand in front of her face as the dust was disturbed with every step. She tried not to think about anything scurrying underfoot and focused on the trunks and various hunting items that were revealed when she reached the main level.

Setting her hands on her hips, she glanced about and wondered where she might start her search. There were a few pieces of furniture that looked as though they hadn't been touched in years, so she passed them by, although she couldn't resist opening a drawer or two. Unfortunately, there was nothing but a collection of cobwebs inside, so she quickly shut them and moved on.

She paused before one of the trunks and lifted a lid to find it filled with various clothes that were at least four decades old. Two more proved the same. Obviously, she wasn't going to find anything of interest here.

She headed back down to the first floor and thought of the study. Curious, she made her way there, and peeked around the corner. Again, it was empty.

With a smile on her face, she headed for the large desk situated in the center of the room. Surely there had to be something here that would counter, beyond a doubt, what "The Belle" had written about Lord Belmont. She could speak of her own experiences, but that would simply tarnish her name and prove the article was correct. She needed something sweet, a letter written to his mother when he was a child, perhaps. Anything that couldn't be disputed, something that would cause the people of the printers to take notice.

She looked at the few papers on top of the desk, but found nothing more exciting than correspondence about the estate. Biting her lip, Meliah started opening drawers and rummaging about inside, but found nothing of import. She put her hands on her hips and glanced at one of the taxidermy animals with a scowl. "What are you looking at?"

When she thought she heard a noise, she froze and glanced at the open doorway. In hindsight, she realized that she should have closed it before she started riffling through the earl's papers. It didn't matter since she had come up empty handed yet again.

With a heavy sigh, she sank down into the leather chair and stared out the window with a slight frown.

A flash of movement outside brought her back to awareness and she got up and moved to the window. Glancing outside, her traitorous heart started to speed up when she saw Lord Belmont. He was seated atop a large, black stallion, but she hadn't really expected anything less. An earl would have some of the best horseflesh that he could obtain.

He was seated loosely in the saddle as he rode into the stable yard and made quite a dashing figure as he did so. Wearing tall, black boots, he was casually attired in nothing more than a white shirt, and buff trousers. His black hair was windblown from the ride, and she could almost make out a slightly crooked smile on his face as he easily dismounted and handed his reins off to a waiting groom who had been unnoticed until that time. Truly, the servants were adept at remaining out of sight until needed.

He started to stride toward the manor, and it took a moment for Meliah to recall how to move her legs. Her gaze shot about the room, as she was desperate to find a place to hide, or at least look as inconspicuous as possible. Realizing that the best place to do this was the library, she rushed out into the hall. By the time the front door opened and shut, she rushed across the room and grabbed one of the first books she found and sat down hastily—and waited.