Banished to Brighton by Sydney Jane Baily
Chapter Twenty-Six
Striding toward her, James saw her brown eyes glimmer, not with fear but anticipation. Her body turned to face him fully and her hands were holding onto him almost before he had her in his arms.
With something akin to rage, James claimed her mouth, harshly taking her lips under his. Yet she didn’t shy away. She gave it back to him, pressing the length of her curves and valleys against his body and firmly kissing him in return.
With his hands on the soft flesh of her bottom, he curled her hips into his, grinding his aching shaft against her soft womanly core.
She was his!
When he had to touch more of her, he reached down and bunched her chemise in his fist, dragging it up until he could sweep his hand underneath. Caressing her thigh, he felt her shiver. And with his first touch across her soft curls, instantly damp, she moaned against his mouth.
Slipping a finger between her silken petals, he stroked her along one side of her nubbin and then the other while she trembled against him. And when he flicked her little bud, she gasped, practically sinking to the floor if he hadn’t supported her.
Latching his mouth onto her nipple through the soft lawn of her chemise, he lathed it to a peak, still stroking between her thighs. Changing to her other nipple, he dipped a finger inside her slick channel, while continuing to caress where she pulsed. Her body tensed and her fingers grasped his shirtfront.
When she arched her head back and shuddered, he knew he’d taken her to the height of sensation. From start to finish, it had barely been five minutes!
It wasn’t enough. He ached to explore every facet of amorous pleasure with her. He wanted to teach her what their bodies could do for one another. He would breach her virtuous defenses and take her.
Like a husband took his wife on their wedding night.
Except she wasn’t going to be his wife. She would be Payton’s!
Dammit!If it were any man other than a friend, he would lose his qualms about right and wrong in the face of this intense desire and have her mewling under him while he slaked his lust for her.
Hell’s bells!She had already collapsed against him, her wet quim still resting on his hand. With frustration, he jerked it away, letting her chemise fall into place. Then, with determination, he lifted his head from her breast, just as her eyes fluttered opened. They were glazed with passion, her pupils dilated.
Twice now, he’d tormented himself. And people dared to call him a rake! When it came to this woman, he couldn’t possibly treat her like a convenient canary, nor could he in good conscience crack her pitcher.
Unless...
“Are you an innocent?” he asked. Perhaps she was an experienced female, and all his torment over tupping her was for naught.
It took her a moment to gather her wits. Yawning, she belatedly covered her mouth and then, after a few seconds, folded her arms across her chest again, shutting out his view of the wet fabric clinging to her nipples.
Still, with large eyes staring into his, she remained silent.
“Are you a virgin?” he demanded.
Her cheeks blazed scarlet, which he would have thought amusing if he weren’t aching between his legs.
“I am,” she declared softly.
He believed her. Of course she was! She might be a conniving husband-hunter, but she was also a viscount’s daughter and would naturally guard her virtue in case its loss destroyed any chance of honorable marriage.
And yet there they were. He’d touched her intimately. Again!
“Why do you allow me such liberties? Do you want me to ruin you as you asked before? It would end any chance of happiness with Payton once he discovered it, even if that didn’t occur until after the wedding. Tell me why, and I shall gladly debauch you to the fullest.”
Her expression darkened like a thunder cloud over the sun.
“You must leave my room,” she said, her voice wavering. “There is nothing more for you here. I was merely caught up in the moment. I won’t let it happen again.”
With that, she turned her trembling back to him.
What else could he do?He left.
***
FINALLY, IT WAS THEnight of the Prince Regent’s masquerade ball. To much fanfare, Queen Charlotte had arrived the day prior. Her eldest son loved her for sharing his taste in art and even, to some degree, in decoration. When first showing Glynnis the Royal Pavilion, Prince George had mentioned how much the Queen’s Lodge at Windsor had inspired him with its beautiful Indian wallpaper, its brightly colored embroidered chairs, and its cheerful and lively rooms containing the finest furnishings right down to the wall sconces.
Moreover, the people adored their queen for standing by her husband through all the king’s difficulties and bouts of madness. No one could ever say a word about her being anything less than faithful.
Glynnis intended to have such a reputation at the end of her life. She would be true to Lord Payton, despite burning with desire for his friend. Once she said her wedding vows, she would forever tamp down the longing she felt for James, squeeze out from her heart every last drop of tenderness she felt for him, and she would never allow herself to be alone with him again. The temptation was too great, and always would be.
Lord Payton had been kind and attentive ever since they’d been caught in their embrace. In fact, he seemed pleased by the circumstances and not the least bit wary of her or regretful.
“I needed a wife. You are as fine a woman as any,” he said to her when they went to the tea-room in Preston two days after the Old Ship Hotel assembly. “Think of our king and queen. They only knew each other for six hours before they married, and they’ve been happy all these years.”
Except for during the king’s episodes of madness, and his downturn in health of late!Those could hardly have been happy times. But she took his point. A good marriage could blossom from many circumstances.
Glynnis wondered if she dare speak for a few minutes with Queen Charlotte that night and perhaps ask her about marriage — and love — but feared, given King George’s present ill health, her questions would be unwelcome.
“Lord Payton will be here any minute, Polly. Are we finished? I don’t see how there can be anything more to do to my hair.”
“No, miss. We’re keeping it simple tonight with a nice twist at the back and a few curls at the front. Your pretty mask and feathers will be all they’ll see anyway.”
Glynnis loved the mask. She’d bought it at Hanningtons with money from her racetrack winnings. Its bold purple feathers and purple satin eye covering went perfectly with the amethyst satin and gold dress she was wearing.
Although she’d been to the boat races with Lord Payton and for many strolls and carriage rides, this was the first assembly since their fated kiss. She was curious to see what it was like to go to a party as a man’s fiancée, even if no one knew about it as yet. She was still trying to figure out how to make him declare it openly. However, Lord Payton seemed determined to give her fiancé more time to arrive.
Tonight, Glynnis had decided to tell him there wasn’t one. She believed she knew Lord Payton well enough to know it would make no difference. He was quite fond of her, and the absence of a prior engagement would remove the last impediment to their own.
Hearing voices coming through the door she’d left ajar, Glynnis locked gazes with Polly.
“It sounds as if your beau is here, miss,” the maid said, reaching for the gold silk wrap where it lay upon the counterpane. She draped it over Glynnis’s arm.
“Thank you for your assistance.” Everything was about to change. James was leaving Brighton the following day, and Glynnis would stay on another day or two before traveling in a private coach paid for by Lord Payton, all the way home to Wales. He promised to join her there himself to speak with her parents.
“I’m very glad Lord Hargrove chose this house, and that you were here,” she said, for Polly had been an ideal maid.
“Thank you, miss. You’ve been a very kind lady to serve.”
With that, she gave a shallow curtsy, leaving Glynnis to take one last look in the tilted cheval mirror standing by the bureau.
“You’ve done it,” she told her reflection. She had left London, intent upon securing her future, and she had accomplished it. Never again would she need fear Rhys’s capricious and irresponsible handling of money. Her parents could give him the purse strings if they wished, and her stomach wouldn’t have to clench in nervous worry ever again.
“You did the right thing,” she spoke aloud.
Was she trying to convince herself?Ever since the night at the Old Ship’s assembly, James had been coolly polite, but mostly absent. He’d attended whatever event Prinny invited him to for the past few days, but not once had he smiled at her or shared a jest with Lord Payton.
He was probably disgusted with her, thinking her a duplicitous, fortune-hunter. But he was wrong. She wasn’t after Rufus Payton for his fortune, only for the security he brought by being her husband. She didn’t care about the title or the fine house he had told her about in the outskirts of London or his father’s earldom or his family’s country estate upon which stood a little church he thought they should use for their wedding. She cared for none of that so much as no longer having to wonder if the next day would be a hungry one.
And in return for peace of mind, she would give him her utter devotion. She might not love him the way she loved James — with her heart aching for him — but she would show Rufus the loyalty and respect due a husband.
Nodding to herself in the mirror, she took a deep breath, smoothed her dress one last time and strode through the doorway.
***
JAMES LEFT HIS RENTEDhouse before Payton arrived. He was not going to hold his friend accountable for the turmoil in his gut. After all, their friendship had been years in the making, and Payton had not stolen Glynnis from him. On the other hand, James didn’t have to wallow in his envy by watching them together.
If anything, he should pity the man for getting involved with her. Not that he didn’t know firsthand how enticing the lady could be. James was still somewhat amazed she’d used the same tired trick and that it had worked so well.
Even worse, he’d been the one to discover them!
If he had been the only one to come upon them, James would have spared his friend being forced to marry a woman who didn’t love him, a woman who wanted only what was in a man’s coffers. However, with the others coming upon the tenderly staged scene, he’d had no choice but to insist upon the honorable action.
Naturally, Payton had been only too happy to oblige, getting himself a beautiful lady in the bargain. And James was left stupidly wishing with all his heart to switch places with him.
Half a dozen times over the past few days, he’d almost told her that very fact, how she should tell Payton she’d changed her mind. Somehow, he had dredged up a degree of self-respect and held himself back.
With a black satin mask in place, James circulated through the interior of the Pavilion before going outside. Prinny’s birthday party was easily the most well-attended event in August in Brighton, dwarfing the other assemblies they’d already had. That night, every public room as well as the entire grounds were being used for merry-making.
The food was mainly indoors, but since Glynnis, who would go straight for the buffet table once she learned of it, wasn’t there, he went outside. Again, as at the last assembly, a dance floor had been fashioned over the grass, giving plenty of space for the country dances while keeping the guests cool.
James scanned the gardens, easily spotting Prinny, who was unmistakable despite his fanciful mask due to his shape and his style of dress.
“Many happy returns of the day, Your Highness.”
“Thank you. I don’t know who you are, but I shall guess.” The prince sipped his champagne. “Let’s see, dark-haired, tall, and wishing he were elsewhere. Why, it must be Hargrove.”
He succeeded in making James laugh. “I promise you, I am perfectly content to be here celebrating the day of your birth. As are so many others.” He looked around at the crowd again and couldn’t help searching for Glynnis.
“So much fuss made on my account!” Prince George said. “Everything, every ounce of wine and morsel of food are superbious in the extreme. Who would have imagined it?”
James merely smiled. After all, the prince had arranged it himself.
“I noticed the vase on display when I arrived. I’m glad it fits in so well.”
“It does, doesn’t it? Far better than those Spanish paintings. Are you leaving tomorrow?”
“Does that mean I have your permission to return home?” James wanted to hear it directly from his lips so there could be no misunderstanding, nothing Prinny could later hold against him.
However, the Prince Regent again sipped his champagne, raising a royal eyebrow.
“As if you needed my permission.” Yet his eyes said otherwise, and James was glad he’d seen this ordeal through from Paris to Brighton. Regardless, the next time Prinny asked him to do a quick favor, James would move mountains to avoid doing so.
“I noticed Miss Talbot came in with one of my trusted councilors. Have you been derelict or did Payton outflank you, wot-wot?”
James bristled. “Not at all, sir. She prefers Lord Payton’s company, and thus, he is escorting her. I trust him with my life.”
Prinny laughed at James’s ruffled feathers. “And with your lady, it seems.”
“Miss Talbot is not—” he cut himself off when he realized the Prince Regent was teasing him.
“My mother is here,” Prinny announced. “She’s inside, enjoying my new gallery. Unlike you, Nash exceeded my expectations.”
“Yes, Your Highness. I shall go pay my respects at once.”
“When you come back next year,” Prinny added, “the other rooms will reflect my new taste, too. Lots more dragons and such. And the exterior will start to look very different. Nash assures me I can have as many minarets as I fancy. I look forward to your compliments.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” James said again, bowed, and walked away. Apparently, he was being summoned to Brighton next August, too. Perhaps Glynnis and Payton would remain and be welcoming a babe by then.
That depressing thought had him snagging a glass of champagne before he went in search of Queen Charlotte. As Prinny had guessed, she was in the new oriental-inspired gallery.
Approaching the small group paying her homage, he realized the vision in rich amethyst silk and gold was Glynnis. His breath caught while his heart squeezed, and he wondered how he would carry on without her when his longing grew daily. The purple feather attached to her mask was wagging this way and that as she talked animatedly about something that had captured her interest, or maybe merely an amusing tale for the queen. At her side was Payton, looking like the luckiest man at the party.
“Your Majesty,” James greeted, bowing before the aging queen with her friendly face, half concealed by a silver mask with real gems pasted to the upper perimeter, giving her the effect of colorful, jeweled eyebrows.
She turned to him, and he quickly added, “It’s Hargrove, ma’am.”
“Lord Hargrove, my son’s faithful friend! How lovely to see you here.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty. It’s an honor to see you in Brighton.” She didn’t often leave London any more. “You look well indeed.”
The queen smiled a little sadly. “I wish my husband was with me, but I came to see the happiness of my eldest. I haven’t always agreed with his choices, but my son knows how to follow his heart, which keeps him often in good spirits.”
James considered that. Following his heart would demand he tell Glynnis she must not marry Payton.
He turned to the pair. “Payton.” He nodded. “Miss Talbot.” He nodded again.
They greeted him, although Payton more warmly than Glynnis’s somewhat stiff curtsy.
“You all know each other?” Queen Charlotte asked. “Miss Talbot tells me she was presented at court two years prior, but I am sorry to say I do not recollect. So many young ladies come out each year.”
“No one would expect you to remember any one of us,” Glynnis said. “But Your Majesty makes an indelible impression on each who is allowed to come before you. I will never forget the moment I saw you at the palace.”
James heard sincerity in her voice. He imagined such a day in a young lady’s life bore the bell of exception. The only thing better might be her wedding day.
His romantic thoughts were becoming tedious, and he should very much like to drown his head in the ocean.
“It is a pleasure to see you, Your Majesty.” James took his leave of Queen Charlotte, and after a glance at the other two, he sauntered off, realizing the trip back to London was going to be a hellish one, alone with his regrets.