Now before she even touched British soil a gentleman of repute had asked for her.
Could she risk it?
Or leave off and deny her greatest wish?
She had been less than truthful, contrary to what the ton knew the Beaufort children were quite wealthy courtsey of their American grandfather whose only child had been their mother. The old man had disinherited her when she had married the barely managing duke of Armheast thinking him a fortune hunter. The rich mine owner thought all British society to be money grabers the reason why his granddaughters' fortunes were settled solely on them with no room for their future husbands. Caroline and her sister had been educated in bussiness and estate management. There was nothing about finance they did not know and had each managed to substantially increase their wealth. Their grandfather would control the principal until they were five and twenty but the rest they would do with as they wished. They already had more than they would spend in a lifetime but the old man's empire building had rubbed off all five of them.
Friday 29 April 2011
Slaves to desire
The sacred halls were as full as ever, the cream of society prominading about assuared of their place in life, the usual mix of debutants and unmarried ladies fashionably dressed and well chaperoned
as they went about the bussiness of finding a husband. The season proper was underway.
He was not coming.
Why had she fooled herself into thinking he would? Had he not told her repeatedly of his aversion to society's entertainments? She had pesisted though thinking that he would care about her enough to come, just to please her. What a fool she had been,
as they went about the bussiness of finding a husband. The season proper was underway.
He was not coming.
Why had she fooled herself into thinking he would? Had he not told her repeatedly of his aversion to society's entertainments? She had pesisted though thinking that he would care about her enough to come, just to please her. What a fool she had been,
Saturday 16 April 2011
The goddess arising
Somewhere between chapter 1&2. . .
Assault? Had he really called it that? Her lips were so soft, velvety against the firmness of his. Instinctively he responded to her, drawing her to him, tasting luscious lips that moved provocatively beneath his, sweet nectar against his tongue as he delved into her mouth, caressing its contours.
All too soon she ended the kiss fluttering like a startled bird as she looked at him, her lips parted and wistful.
"I think he's gone now," he whispered aware of her soft firm breasts against his hard-walled chest. Her slender legs fitted perfectly to his as if she had been made for his arms and he responded to her.
"Oh!" her eyes widened, "Thank you. I mean for saving me." she explained breathily a smile lighting up her face, darkening her eyes to a golden sunset that drew him like a moth to fire.
His throat tightened, he tried to will his body away from hers, to give himself room, but those eyes touched him at a level he couldn't define. The laughter in them, the simple understanding soothing his tortued soul with silent acceptance, as if she knew all his demons and accepted him.
She pulled him in, threatening the barriers he had built around himself just with that smile, made them baseless with her touch, heat that emanated from a point to melt their restraint. Her lips belligerant against her eyes with their swollen folds parted to give him a provocative insight to the moist heat of her mouth, coral lips that could haunt a man until he lost his senses, pleasure him with their softened depths and still leave him wanting.
He longed to taste their depths again, to feel her softening against him, have her response drum into him, her hands on him stroaking...
"Zorro saves another damsel in distress," she said with a coy smile.
"A lady like you is worth saving" he replied and was relieved his voice did not betray his struggles.
"Lady?" she questioned with fluttering lashes.
She wasn't used to flirting he could tell, her eyes unsure even as she enjoyed their teasing, a true lady with an air of innocence that aroused his protective instincts, and unwelcome possessive ones. Anger
Assault? Had he really called it that? Her lips were so soft, velvety against the firmness of his. Instinctively he responded to her, drawing her to him, tasting luscious lips that moved provocatively beneath his, sweet nectar against his tongue as he delved into her mouth, caressing its contours.
All too soon she ended the kiss fluttering like a startled bird as she looked at him, her lips parted and wistful.
"I think he's gone now," he whispered aware of her soft firm breasts against his hard-walled chest. Her slender legs fitted perfectly to his as if she had been made for his arms and he responded to her.
"Oh!" her eyes widened, "Thank you. I mean for saving me." she explained breathily a smile lighting up her face, darkening her eyes to a golden sunset that drew him like a moth to fire.
His throat tightened, he tried to will his body away from hers, to give himself room, but those eyes touched him at a level he couldn't define. The laughter in them, the simple understanding soothing his tortued soul with silent acceptance, as if she knew all his demons and accepted him.
She pulled him in, threatening the barriers he had built around himself just with that smile, made them baseless with her touch, heat that emanated from a point to melt their restraint. Her lips belligerant against her eyes with their swollen folds parted to give him a provocative insight to the moist heat of her mouth, coral lips that could haunt a man until he lost his senses, pleasure him with their softened depths and still leave him wanting.
He longed to taste their depths again, to feel her softening against him, have her response drum into him, her hands on him stroaking...
"Zorro saves another damsel in distress," she said with a coy smile.
"A lady like you is worth saving" he replied and was relieved his voice did not betray his struggles.
"Lady?" she questioned with fluttering lashes.
She wasn't used to flirting he could tell, her eyes unsure even as she enjoyed their teasing, a true lady with an air of innocence that aroused his protective instincts, and unwelcome possessive ones. Anger
Friday 15 April 2011
Lady Armheast dearest desire 2
He wanted her too, there was no doubt. What she could not trust were his intentions upon her. Could this stately, elegant leader of the peers be asking her to wife? Socially she was his equal and could very well marry him if only she could trust he truly was offering her marriage. It was a sad truth she had long since faced, men of the ton were more likely to offer her the slip than anything honourable.
How wonderful it would be though if a gentleman like him would value her despite her unfortunate circumstances. That however was rather unlikely, not this early.
Taking a deep breath she supressed the troubling feelings he aroused in her and broke eye contact. He was just too handsome! She had known other handsome men, her brothers were just as well favoured, but something about lord Camden made her so concious that she was a woman.
He sat down on a side chair besides her sofa, a respectable distance should anyone chance upon them. Though their being alone was scandalous enough even without her history. It always came down to her history, she thought sadly, the reason why he could not be proposing marriage and many other things.
He leaned foward, his eyes ernest upon hers she could not look away. Her breath caught, her heart raced as they became all there was to her world. Their depths entranced her, snuffed reason and awakened deep longing at the core of her being. How could she doubt him when he looked at her like that? Touching the tender places in her soul that had long been left wanting. Moreso how could she refuse him anything? His lazy gaze slumbered with sensuality and instead of shying away from it she was drawn. If only she was indifferent to him! He was all her schoolgirl fantasies had yearned for. When he spoke, his voice washed over her raw nerves like a warm breeze. What was wrong with her?
"Lady Armheast, you must be aware how lovely you are and as a sister to a duke you are my equal. No one would fault me if we were to wed" he reasoned.
Caroline lowered her eyes "The ton would fault you for taking a wife who is known to have barely a penny to her name when there are those about with veritable fortunes"
"I am not a fortune hunter my lady" he stated his voice a bit stiff. "I do not care that you are dowerless, you are a lovely woman of good character and I find you most suitable. You are also intelligent and caring, I would be honoured to have you"
"You would be more honoured to have a wife with an untainted name" she said, eyes downcast.
He took her hand in his, "Caroline," her name was a longing breath upon his lips, she closed her eyes at the aching sweetness of it "You were not at fault, merely an innocent child who was a victim. Do not think for a moment that I could fault you for that"
She could not keep the tears back. How she had longed for someone who felt as he did, valued her still. It was one thing to dream and another to face the reality though. How could she have known she would be this scared? That she who had faced the world with a brave face and cheery heart would be afraid to take the dream reality offered? Had she buried her dream so deep she had no strength for the reality?
It was all so confusing. She had no way of knowing if it was all for a wager. How could she trust her judgement again where men were concerned? She got up to put some distance between them knowing she would not be able to refuse him if he kept on looking at her like she truly was the answer to his prayers.
" 'Tis generous of you to think so well of me, my lord, but pray do not distress me further with this. You deserve a virginal bride and I am not that"
He came up to her, took her gloved hands in his even as she was reluctant to have him do so. Tenderly he wiped her tears away, his face so gentle her tears flowed even more.
Her heart ached, a lump lodging upon her throat, her body trembled with reaction, confusion raking her mind as her blood flamed. His touch was sublime, reverent, a lover's touch, fulfilling despite its fleeting nature. As desire melted her body she turned despairing eyes to him, he should not have such a hold over her, a simple touch should not pierce her defenses like this. She had always thought them so substantial, unbreachable and yet here she was behaving like an abandoned jade.
"My lord, please" she begged.
"I deserve the lady that I want," he replied to her earlier statement. "A spirited yet gentle companion sharing in some of my intrests and capable of understanding my motivations. I believe you are that lady. I shall not distress you with my intentions again but rest assured I shall not consider any other lady. If you are still of the same mind pray let me know by the end of our voyage"
He bowed over her hand then left.
Unsettled, disbelieving she sat back down, her mind a whirling mass of confusion.
She could have had her pick of the American gentry had she not yearned for a British gentleman even as she had doubted she could have one.
How wonderful it would be though if a gentleman like him would value her despite her unfortunate circumstances. That however was rather unlikely, not this early.
Taking a deep breath she supressed the troubling feelings he aroused in her and broke eye contact. He was just too handsome! She had known other handsome men, her brothers were just as well favoured, but something about lord Camden made her so concious that she was a woman.
He sat down on a side chair besides her sofa, a respectable distance should anyone chance upon them. Though their being alone was scandalous enough even without her history. It always came down to her history, she thought sadly, the reason why he could not be proposing marriage and many other things.
He leaned foward, his eyes ernest upon hers she could not look away. Her breath caught, her heart raced as they became all there was to her world. Their depths entranced her, snuffed reason and awakened deep longing at the core of her being. How could she doubt him when he looked at her like that? Touching the tender places in her soul that had long been left wanting. Moreso how could she refuse him anything? His lazy gaze slumbered with sensuality and instead of shying away from it she was drawn. If only she was indifferent to him! He was all her schoolgirl fantasies had yearned for. When he spoke, his voice washed over her raw nerves like a warm breeze. What was wrong with her?
"Lady Armheast, you must be aware how lovely you are and as a sister to a duke you are my equal. No one would fault me if we were to wed" he reasoned.
Caroline lowered her eyes "The ton would fault you for taking a wife who is known to have barely a penny to her name when there are those about with veritable fortunes"
"I am not a fortune hunter my lady" he stated his voice a bit stiff. "I do not care that you are dowerless, you are a lovely woman of good character and I find you most suitable. You are also intelligent and caring, I would be honoured to have you"
"You would be more honoured to have a wife with an untainted name" she said, eyes downcast.
He took her hand in his, "Caroline," her name was a longing breath upon his lips, she closed her eyes at the aching sweetness of it "You were not at fault, merely an innocent child who was a victim. Do not think for a moment that I could fault you for that"
She could not keep the tears back. How she had longed for someone who felt as he did, valued her still. It was one thing to dream and another to face the reality though. How could she have known she would be this scared? That she who had faced the world with a brave face and cheery heart would be afraid to take the dream reality offered? Had she buried her dream so deep she had no strength for the reality?
It was all so confusing. She had no way of knowing if it was all for a wager. How could she trust her judgement again where men were concerned? She got up to put some distance between them knowing she would not be able to refuse him if he kept on looking at her like she truly was the answer to his prayers.
" 'Tis generous of you to think so well of me, my lord, but pray do not distress me further with this. You deserve a virginal bride and I am not that"
He came up to her, took her gloved hands in his even as she was reluctant to have him do so. Tenderly he wiped her tears away, his face so gentle her tears flowed even more.
Her heart ached, a lump lodging upon her throat, her body trembled with reaction, confusion raking her mind as her blood flamed. His touch was sublime, reverent, a lover's touch, fulfilling despite its fleeting nature. As desire melted her body she turned despairing eyes to him, he should not have such a hold over her, a simple touch should not pierce her defenses like this. She had always thought them so substantial, unbreachable and yet here she was behaving like an abandoned jade.
"My lord, please" she begged.
"I deserve the lady that I want," he replied to her earlier statement. "A spirited yet gentle companion sharing in some of my intrests and capable of understanding my motivations. I believe you are that lady. I shall not distress you with my intentions again but rest assured I shall not consider any other lady. If you are still of the same mind pray let me know by the end of our voyage"
He bowed over her hand then left.
Unsettled, disbelieving she sat back down, her mind a whirling mass of confusion.
She could have had her pick of the American gentry had she not yearned for a British gentleman even as she had doubted she could have one.
Thursday 14 April 2011
Lady Armheast's dearest desire
CHAPTER 1
" 'Tis cruel of you to jest with me so my lord." she finally replied in a voice full of tears, painfully she continued. "All of society knows that I am disgraced and no gentlement of noble birth would take me to wife. For you to. . . to come and. . ." she waved her hand to indicate all he had said unable to say more as tears ran down her cheeks. Something she found embarassing to have him see as she was not given to tears.
Abruptly she got up and rushed to the door. She could not bear to stay a minute longer knowing she was no more than a jest to him. No doubt it was all a wager and his friends even now awaited to hear the tale. That this was close to her heart hurt more than she could ever have imagined. Oh how cruel men could be! Somehow she had forgotten that well learned lesson though she had thought it was an everyday reality.
"Lady Armheast, pray do not leave."
Something in his voice made her pause upon the door, a note of desparation that was tempered by pride. As if he was under a lot of strain, unwilling to go forth but having no choice. She turned to him warily, her hand on the knob.
"I have stated my case very badly and I do apologise for distressing you, I am unlikely to do it any better so I apologise again. I am in need of a wife, one from the guests of my cousin's wedding and I have chosen to ask you." he stated.
Caroline frowned, unable to credit what he was saying. Anger rolled inside of her, boiling, threatening the composure she had worked so hard to gain. He dared to continue in this distressing, humiliating jest of his even to the point of stopping her when she chose to leave! What a rogue he was and in the most cruel way possible. She raised her head with pride, unwilling to give him the pleasure of seeing her lose control. "I am not a guest to the wedding." she stated in a flat voice.
"My lady, you have been included in everything to do with the wedding, that makes you a guest."
She could not deny that, though were it not for the kindhearted bride she and her party would not have been included. Whilst society matrons- the few present- had not given her the cut they had not sought her acquitance nor that of her sister. They did not know how to deal with her, did not want their innocent daughters around her yet they had symphathy for her. She hated being the object of symphathy but knew she had to withstand it if she was to make her place in society. Determined that their foray into the london ton would be a success especially for her innocent sister, as yet it had been difficult, she had endervoured to hold her head high and be all her station in life entrailed. They were made of sterner stuff and being included in the Raighley wedding, however reluctantly, was a start.
Defiant, she looked straight at him "Am I to believe you would chose me over lady Granville who is. . ."
"A schemer determined to marry my tittle." he finished for her.
Caroline blinked in astonished, "Lady Selbourne. . ." she left it as a question.
"Another social climber."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Miss Beachwood?"
"Irritates me with her simpering and vapours."
A smile threatened upon her features but she supressed it. "Miss Perronet?" she asked
"Brainless." he replied hardly.
Caroline couldn't help laughing, though considered an incomperable Miss Perronet was rather silly to put it kindly.
One by one she named the rest of the single ladies in attendance and he gave her a short, precise and rather humourous discription of them and they laughed together.
He did have an endearing smile, soft, sensual and very captivating. His deep smooth laugh had her stomach clenching for some reason and her breath caught making her feel lightheaded.
Lowering her eyes she turned to walk to the sofa unable to continue looking into those deep eyes, so sincere when she could not bring herself to believe him. The confusing effect he was having on her made it wise to move away from him. With more of a fuss than was necessary she arranged her skirts about her.
He turned to her and she felt the heat of his eyes taking in her fine parisian gown, her unruly strawberry hair even the cleavage the low neckline exposed. It was decent enough, all fashionable ladies were wearing them some even lower but few ladies had a bussom quite as full as hers. She was used to men staring at her, having those kind of looks, but this lord's eyes were a caress, slow and soft. She looked up to find him lazily roving down her body with eyes that had darkened to appear coal black, glowing with appreaciation they traced the same path back up taking in every inch of her tall frame. The world suddenly felt off kilter and she was glad she was seated. Her breasts grew heavy startling her with their aching. She had never been aroused! Not even the slightest bit. Men did not attract her, not in this body tightening heart clenching heated way. How could she be feeling like this, wanting him when she knew it would be her downfall?
" 'Tis cruel of you to jest with me so my lord." she finally replied in a voice full of tears, painfully she continued. "All of society knows that I am disgraced and no gentlement of noble birth would take me to wife. For you to. . . to come and. . ." she waved her hand to indicate all he had said unable to say more as tears ran down her cheeks. Something she found embarassing to have him see as she was not given to tears.
Abruptly she got up and rushed to the door. She could not bear to stay a minute longer knowing she was no more than a jest to him. No doubt it was all a wager and his friends even now awaited to hear the tale. That this was close to her heart hurt more than she could ever have imagined. Oh how cruel men could be! Somehow she had forgotten that well learned lesson though she had thought it was an everyday reality.
"Lady Armheast, pray do not leave."
Something in his voice made her pause upon the door, a note of desparation that was tempered by pride. As if he was under a lot of strain, unwilling to go forth but having no choice. She turned to him warily, her hand on the knob.
"I have stated my case very badly and I do apologise for distressing you, I am unlikely to do it any better so I apologise again. I am in need of a wife, one from the guests of my cousin's wedding and I have chosen to ask you." he stated.
Caroline frowned, unable to credit what he was saying. Anger rolled inside of her, boiling, threatening the composure she had worked so hard to gain. He dared to continue in this distressing, humiliating jest of his even to the point of stopping her when she chose to leave! What a rogue he was and in the most cruel way possible. She raised her head with pride, unwilling to give him the pleasure of seeing her lose control. "I am not a guest to the wedding." she stated in a flat voice.
"My lady, you have been included in everything to do with the wedding, that makes you a guest."
She could not deny that, though were it not for the kindhearted bride she and her party would not have been included. Whilst society matrons- the few present- had not given her the cut they had not sought her acquitance nor that of her sister. They did not know how to deal with her, did not want their innocent daughters around her yet they had symphathy for her. She hated being the object of symphathy but knew she had to withstand it if she was to make her place in society. Determined that their foray into the london ton would be a success especially for her innocent sister, as yet it had been difficult, she had endervoured to hold her head high and be all her station in life entrailed. They were made of sterner stuff and being included in the Raighley wedding, however reluctantly, was a start.
Defiant, she looked straight at him "Am I to believe you would chose me over lady Granville who is. . ."
"A schemer determined to marry my tittle." he finished for her.
Caroline blinked in astonished, "Lady Selbourne. . ." she left it as a question.
"Another social climber."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Miss Beachwood?"
"Irritates me with her simpering and vapours."
A smile threatened upon her features but she supressed it. "Miss Perronet?" she asked
"Brainless." he replied hardly.
Caroline couldn't help laughing, though considered an incomperable Miss Perronet was rather silly to put it kindly.
One by one she named the rest of the single ladies in attendance and he gave her a short, precise and rather humourous discription of them and they laughed together.
He did have an endearing smile, soft, sensual and very captivating. His deep smooth laugh had her stomach clenching for some reason and her breath caught making her feel lightheaded.
Lowering her eyes she turned to walk to the sofa unable to continue looking into those deep eyes, so sincere when she could not bring herself to believe him. The confusing effect he was having on her made it wise to move away from him. With more of a fuss than was necessary she arranged her skirts about her.
He turned to her and she felt the heat of his eyes taking in her fine parisian gown, her unruly strawberry hair even the cleavage the low neckline exposed. It was decent enough, all fashionable ladies were wearing them some even lower but few ladies had a bussom quite as full as hers. She was used to men staring at her, having those kind of looks, but this lord's eyes were a caress, slow and soft. She looked up to find him lazily roving down her body with eyes that had darkened to appear coal black, glowing with appreaciation they traced the same path back up taking in every inch of her tall frame. The world suddenly felt off kilter and she was glad she was seated. Her breasts grew heavy startling her with their aching. She had never been aroused! Not even the slightest bit. Men did not attract her, not in this body tightening heart clenching heated way. How could she be feeling like this, wanting him when she knew it would be her downfall?
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