Chapter 14

Victoria pressed her back more firmly against the trunk of the tree, trying to force herself to remain steady even as her pulse thundered and her knees felt weak. Lord Bedford approached her, the tree fronds sweeping around him. He drew close to her.

Her breath shuddered unevenly as the scent of his familiar cologne filled her senses. He did not halt until his body pressed against hers. Victoria felt his chest rise and fall and the heat of his breath as he bent his head down. "And what shall we do?" he murmured, his breath hot. "I am happy to help you however I can."

Victoria found it suddenly hard to put her words together. "W—well, there was something else that I thought of."

"Oh?" His lips pressed against her neck, and Victoria bit her lip to keep from crying out in pleasure.

Lord Bedford's lips were as warm and soft as she remembered, but there was something infinitely more intimate in how he kissed her neck. She felt her back arch as if her body were silently trying to will her neck to be nearer to those delightful and sinful lips.

"Tell me more about it," the lord murmured.

"I had a dream."

Lord Bedford tilted his head back and straightened, his dark eyes gleaming with excitement. He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms, looking rakish and expectant. "Oh, yes?"

"I am writing my play," Victoria said.

"Mm."

She curled her hands into the skirts of her gown and gazed at Lord Bedford with wide eyes. This confession was not the sort that a young lady should ever make, but if anyone would understand and help her, it was Lord Bedford. Victoria's stepmother had warned her not to trust this man, but still, Victoria was so terribly curious. This was a man who had offered to help her and who had shown her what it was to be kissed. Even if it was unwise to trust him, she found that she did.

"My heroine, Lady Constance, is interacting with a rakish lord," Victoria said. "They dance and kiss."

"Naturally."

Victoria took a steadying breath. Lord Bedford seemed to notice, for his grin broadened. He was amused by her. Victoria did not know how she ought to feel about that. Perhaps he thought of her as a foolish girl who knew very little about the world. She would always know very little if she did not take risks, though. She gathered her steel and straightened her spine.

"After the dance, they decide to retreat to somewhere more private," she said.

"Was it behind a willow tree? It offers little privacy," he mused, glancing behind him. "Perhaps we should move behind the hedges."

"No," she said, flushing. "It was not a willow tree. It was a garden at night."

"Ah."

Victoria's face burned, and she looked askance. Her skirts had never before been so worthy of attention, but even as she looked away, she knew that Lord Bedford still stared at her. "Lady Victoria," he murmured.

Her head snapped up, and Lord Bedford cupped her cheek. Victoria leaned into his touch, savouring the warmth and strength in his hand. Would he kiss her again? She would not refuse him, even if he were correct about the willow tree offering them very little privacy. Anyone might see them.

"What happened in your scene?" Lord Bedford murmured. "I will not think poorly of you, regardless of your answer."

"The rake took handfuls of the lady's skirts and drew them up over her thighs," Victoria said. "He touched her and stroked her in that—that place."

She did not indicate where that place was, but she assumed he knew what she meant. Her face was so hot that she longed to avert her gaze and turn away once again from him, but his dark gaze held her still as if she were caught in some magic spell.

"Her maidenhood?"

She swallowed hard and nodded. "I—I apologize if it is too much for me to ask. I just wondered how it would feel."

His face softened. "Are you asking for my help again?"

"If you are willing to give it," she said.

Lord Bedford hummed and extended his hand. "We will need more shelter for this," he said.

Feeling shy, Victoria placed her hand in his. She let him lead her around the willow tree and behind a row of hedges that spanned a little further away from the lake. Fleetingly, she thought they might be caught. Surely, Lord Worthington and Lady Eleanor would notice their absence or someone else might see them slipping away from their companions. However, that anxiety was easily lost in the thundering of her pulse in her ears. She ducked behind the hedge with Lord Bedford, who gestured towards a stone bench. "Lay down."

Victoria lay with her back on the bench. She felt strangely vulnerable like that, lying down before a man. The lord knelt before her and coaxed her legs further apart with his hands. Lord Bedford began at the ankle and slowly stroked a path up her leg. She felt his touch even between the gown and her chemise. He traced up past her hip and back down, every caress causing something within her to tighten. She stifled a moan, discomforted in a way that she had never been before.

"What is that?" Lord Bedford asked, his hand halting on her knee. "You want more?"

"Yes," she breathed.

He placed a quick kiss on her lips and drew back. Victoria shivered from the intensity that she found in his gaze. He looked at her as if she were the most important person in the world, and having him gaze at her with such careful attention shook her to her core. No man had ever looked at her like that. "If you feel uncomfortable and want me to stop, just tell me," he said. "You can always ask me to stop."

"All right," she breathed.

He smiled, his excitement apparent. Lord Bedford coaxed her ankles even further apart so they rested on the edge of the bench. Her toes brushed his thighs. He grasped her hips and gingerly brought her down the length of the bench, hitching up her gown as he did. Victoria's legs were spread wide on the bench, and her hips raised lewdly. Lord Bedford reached beneath her gown and chemise, and his fingertips brushed against her stocking. Victoria gasped, drawing a low chuckle from the lord.

"Oh, you are innocent," he said. "And I thought you were a worldly woman."

"I—I have a worldly mind," she said. "I just need some experience for my body to match."

He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "Oh, that is obvious. After all, we are in a public park. How embarrassed would you be if someone wandered by and saw a lovely lady like you spread open and willing like this on a bench?"

The thought should not have been so thrilling. She should have closed her legs and climbed to her feet. She should have called him a despicable rake and hurried away while forcing her gown and chemise back into place. She ought to be returning to her father's townhouse and pleading for mercy from her stepmother.

But she found that she could not move from the bench. She had no will to flee, not when she was on the verge of such a wonderful discovery. A dull ache formed between her thighs, and Victoria's fingers longed to touch the spot. Instead, she kept her fingers firmly curled around the sides of the bench to keep herself steady.

"I—I—see," Victoria gasped. "I am brazen."

"Hm."

His finger traced up her calf. After what seemed to be an eternity, he caressed her bare thigh. Victoria gasped and arched her back. The ache in her core intensified, and she groaned. It was miserable and wonderful. She tried and failed to find the words to describe the need that wove through her body. "Please," she whispered, unsure what she was asking for.

Lord Bedford chuckled. "Oh, my lovely Lady Victoria, look at you."

He shifted closer, pulling himself nearly atop her. She felt the fabric of his shirt against her bare knees, and his fingers travelled up higher and higher. Then, they reached that deep-seated ache at her core. Victoria gasped and bucked her hips against his hand.

His thumb pressed against her maidenhood, and Victoria bit back a sharp, strangled cry. Her thighs shook, and her hips seemed to move of her own accord. She forced that most private of spaces insistently against his hand, urging him to press harder and rub her more quickly. Suddenly—

The world changed. Black spots dotted her vision, and for a moment, she seemed to feel everything and nothing all at once. It was like being under a wave of water and suddenly emerging for air. The feeling passed, leaving her feeling soft and pliant. She felt blissfully tired, as though she had returned to bed after a particularly trying day.

Lord Bedford withdrew his hand and pulled her skirts down over her legs while Victoria struggled to regain her breath. Her fingers curled so tightly into the sides of the bench that they hurt. "We should be returning," Lord Bedford said.

"Oh," she whispered.

She managed to steady her breathing and sat upright. Lord Bedford raised his hand and caressed her hair. "Leaf," he explained. "We would not want to be obvious about it."

"Right. No, of course."

His lips twitched in amusement. "Can you stand?"

"Barely!" she exclaimed with a laugh. "That was … that was unlike anything that I have ever felt."

"It is more than many women have ever felt," Lord Bedford replied with a satisfied smirk. "How fortunate you are to have me as your mentor in the ways of love."

Victoria brushed the leaves and debris from her gown. She smoothed the wrinkles of her fabric and made herself look presentable. Then, with a bright smile, she took Lord Bedford's arm.

She did not even have a word for all the feelings that consumed her, but she understood now why Lady Constance would want to indulge in this behaviour so, so badly.

"Thank you, My Lord, for being my mentor," she said. "I shall be certain to remember the evening when I pen my next scene."

He grinned. "I hoped that you would."

As they returned to the well-trodden path, Victoria noticed that her jaw hurt. The lesson had been so amazing, and she felt so good that she could not stop smiling.