The Virgin in the Rake’s Bed by Ava MacAdams
Chapter Thirteen
“Ihave come to call on Mr. Bennet,” Catherine said, when she arrived at Westwick Manor a short while later.
Rebecca had allowed Catherine to leave by the servant’s entrance of the Somerset residence, calling for a carriage to take her a circuitous route to Westwick Manor. The deception had been managed well, and Catherine had – so she believed – managed to avoid unwanted eyes on her journey to see Ian. Now, she stood in the doorway, offering her calling card to the butler, who ushered her inside.
“I shall just see if the Baron is available,” the butler replied.
Catherine kept forgetting that Ian was titled, she referred to him merely as “Mr. Bennet,” for titles and class held little sway with her, and certainly she did not seek them as her father and brother sought them. In her experience, the aristocracy was nothing but trouble, and she would gladly have nothing to do with them every again.
“Catherine, I was not expecting you,” a voice from the far end of the hallway said, and Catherine looked up from admiring a portrait of Ian on the wall to see his figure coming toward her. She smiled at him, pleased that his tone was more of surprise than annoyance.
“I thought we might talk a little,” she said, and he nodded, beckoning her to follow him along the corridor.
He led her into the library, where a fire was kindled in the hearth, and open books were strewn across the large table in the center. Plotinus looked up from his place by the fire and gave a bark of acknowledgement, before slumping down again to sleep.
“I am delighted to see you. It is an unexpected pleasure. I was thinking of luncheon,” he said, just as the clock on the mantelpiece struck noon.
“Oh, am I disturbing you?” she asked “It is just that I have had some difficulty getting here,” and she recounted the tale of using Rebecca as her ploy.
When she had finished, he looked at her and smiled, shaking his head in astonishment. “I really am an enemy to be defeated,” he said, and to her surprise, he told Catherine of a visit he had received from Rickard the afternoon before.
“And he challenged you to a duel if you should do anything to offend my honor?” she exclaimed, and Ian nodded.
“He was quite adamant about it. He and I are to duel if I show any sign of taking advantage of you for my own gain. I have never heard anything so preposterous. If anyone is seeking to gain advantage from your marriage, then it is he and your father. They would not be complaining if mine were a dukedom,” he said, grinning at her.
Catherine was astonished to hear the lengths which both her father and brother would go to so that the match might be prevented. If only it were real, what then? She mused on this for a moment, delighting still in the fantasy of it all, even as Rebecca’s words still rang in her ears. Ian was sitting by the fire, looking for all the world like the contented bachelor he was. Could he ever be disturbed from that happy state, she wondered?
“Perhaps not, but to think of how petty it all is. They are like children who cannot have their own way,” she said, tutting and taking the seat he had offered her as they entered the room.
“They are worse than children, for children soon move on from their grievances, whilst your father and brother hold on to theirs like dogs on the scent,” he replied.
“Then we must continue the ruse, if only to make them angrier,” she said, smiling at him.
“But we must be cautious. Your father has already forbidden you from coming here, and do not forget that he has made it his intention to find anything of ill repute he can against my reputation,” Ian replied.
“But he will not do so, for there is nothing in your past which could cause a scandal. You are the innocent party, and a kiss in the park can do nothing to stain your reputation. Lady Millicent is nothing but a silly, ridiculous woman,” Catherine said, rolling her eyes at the thought of the titivation they had caused by merely being alone together behind the rhododendrons in the ornamental gardens.
“Perhaps,” Ian replied, though by the tone of his voice he did not sound entirely convinced.
Just then, a gong rang in a distant part of the house, and Plotinus began to bark excitedly.
“I should leave you to your luncheon,” Catherine said, rising hastily from her chair. “Nonsense,” Ian replied, smiling at her, “if you have gone to all this trouble to come here, the least I can do is offer you to dine with me,” and he held out his arm with a smile on his face.
A moment later, Catherine was walking arm in arm with Ian along a corridor to the dining room. Westwick Manor was a maze of rooms, a hundred and twenty-seven, Ian had told her, and each seemed more magnificent than the last. The whole place was lavishly furnished, filled from top to bottom with exquisite pieces from all over the world. The walls were hung with portraits and tapestries, and every corner turned, brought with it new and interesting sights.
“And this is the dining room,” Ian said, opening the door into a long room which looked out over the gardens.
A table which could easily have sat twenty or thirty people was laid for one, and Ian hastily instructed Redbrand, the butler, to make alternative arrangements, as he and Catherine approached the windows. From there, they could see across the lawns to well-tended flower beds and a magnificent fountain which spurted up in the distance, throwing a cascade of water into the air, which plunged back into a shimmering pool below.
“It is a magnificent dwelling,” Catherine gasped, and Ian smiled, ushering her to the table, where another place had now been laid.
“Westwick Manor is my sanctuary, the one place I can feel truly at home. I have a place in Kent, too, though I am rarely there. London keeps me busy, for my business interests are mainly here, as are my business rivals,” he said, winking at her.
Catherine sat down opposite him, pleased to now gain some small insight into his life. There was so much she still wanted to know, especially about the sad circumstances of his former lover. He had been spurned, that much she knew, but the question of his brother still hung in the air. Certainly, that death had brought with it fortune, and the benefits of a house and title, but she could also detect a note of regret, as though this added responsibility was not entirely to Ian’s taste.
“You are very kind to share it with me,” she said, as the soup course was served.
“The art of dining is a time of seduction,” he said, laying aside his spoon and smiling at her.
Catherine blushed, and suddenly she felt the touch of his foot against hers. It was the lightest brush, but still it sent a shiver running through her, and she smiled at him, a mischievous grin coming over his face.
“Really, you are too much,” she exclaimed, though she found no complaint in his actions.
“I will say it again. The dinner table is the perfect place for seduction. Perhaps we should continue our lessons,” he said, just as the maids brought in a side of beef and steaming tureens of vegetables and potatoes to accompany it.
Catherine had never been aware of the dining room as a place of intrigue, though now she thought about it, Ian was right. In the evening, such places were dimly lit by candles over dinner, the long tablecloths hiding a multitude of intrigues, where hands could be proffered, and legs stretched out so that they might brush against those of others.
“And you are well versed in this art, I suppose?” she asked.
“Quite expertly so,” he replied, still smiling at her.
“I suppose the dinner table is considered a place of safety. No one is alone, one is always chaperoned by others, and so the actions of a man might seem innocent, but be far from so,” she said, and he nodded.
“You are a first learner, Miss Ferguson,” he replied, and Catherine blushed.
“You must call me Catherine, Mr. Bennet… my Lord,” she said, correcting herself.
“And you must call me Ian, for we have already passed beyond intimate terms, surely. Now, imagine the situation. You have arrived with your father at some grand house in the country. There is a man who takes an interest in you. You have already led him a merry dance over sherry in the drawing room and now you come to the dining room. Do you sit opposite him, or do you wait for him to circulate?” he asked.
Catherine pondered this for a moment. She had dined in many grand houses, though she had always tried to seat herself in female company, preferably that of Samantha or Rebecca. There were few women whom Catherine could tolerate, and she preferred the company of those she was already acquainted with, rather than someone new and unfamiliar.
“It depends if one is dining in the French or Russian style, I suppose,” she replied, thinking she had given an intelligent response.
“Yes… I suppose it does, but let us assume it is the French style, for that is surely what we are growing accustomed to. The serving of courses one after the other is surely preferable to the furor created by every dish being placed simultaneously on the table. Besides, the French style is easier for our purposes. Now, you have sat down at the table, and your admirer has sat opposite you, just as we are now. He is interested, that much is certain. What do you do?” he asked, and Catherine pondered for a moment.
She thought back to similar situations. There had been a dinner at her debut, and she recalled a very enthusiastic young man by the name of Henry Lockwood, a Viscount, taking it on himself to escort her to dinner. He had sat down opposite her and done nothing but gaze at her with wide, puppy-like eyes throughout the evening. It had rather put her off her soup, and she had hardly touched her veal. No, the memory was not a pleasant one, and she found it hard to think of any reason she should wish to be seduced at the dinner table.
“I make polite conversation with him, and those around me, to my left and right,” was all she could think to say, and Ian shook his head and laughed.
Catherine had been taught to only speak to those on her left and right, and opposite, and never at the same time. It would not do to shout across the table or lean over her fellow diners to hear something said by another. It was confusing to imagine why any man should do the same, and she smiled at Ian, waiting for him to enlighten her in the manner in which seduction could be achieved in such a situation.
“Imagine we are speaking, just as we are. Will you reach out your leg to caress mine? Think of yourself as two halves. The top half must maintain your image and composure, others are watching you and you are in polite society. But your lower half is beneath the table, no one can see it, and I can guarantee that the other guests are themselves involved in intrigues you yourself cannot know of,” he said, and she startled at the touch of his foot against her own.
Unlike before, he did not remove it, but ran its length gently up her leg. A shiver ran through her at his touch, and she swallowed hard, her heart beating, unsure of what to do next. “I would betray myself, I fear,” she said, and he smiled.
“The art is showing yourself entirely unaffected by it. Indifferent, even,” he replied.
“But if I like it?” she asked, and he continued to fix her with his gaze, his foot running up and down the inside of her leg with just enough force to offer the right sensation of pleasure and longing.
“It is like the dance. You must not show it. Inside, your heart is racing, you long for more, you mind is turned to passion and desire. But do not let him see that. Let him think you are indifferent, that you have no interest in him, that a dozen other men about the table might steal your heart. It will drive him in a mad and frenzied ecstasy. Then he is yours, a plaything you may do with as you please. But if you show your interest, then he will think he has won, and then assume that you are his to do with as he pleases. That cannot be,” he replied.
It all seemed very confusing. Catherine had never imagined that a simple affair of sharing a dinner with others could become so fraught with pitfalls. “So, I am to allow a little seduction on his part, but ensure I remain in complete control?” she replied, and he nodded.
“Precisely, yes. It is not difficult. You are managing very well right now,” he said, and she smiled.
“I am not even trying,” she said, and he withdrew his foot from her ankle.
“Then practice,” he said, sitting back and taking up his knife and fork.
He eyed her across the table, causing her to blush under his gaze. “We have just sat down to dinner,” she began, and he nodded.
“And so, what will your first move be if I am to be seduced?” he asked, slicing vigorously into his meat.
“I will glance at you, though I will not stare at you. You will understand my interest in you, but it shall not be so obvious. Perhaps I will glance at other gentlemen, too,” she said, beginning to enjoy their little game.
“Yes, very good. The sight of you glancing at others will make me envious of them, and more desirous of you,” he said, indicating for her to continue.
“The meal will be served, and you will continue to glance at me, and I at you. I will wait for my moment – it would not do to rush in. But when it comes, I shall know. Perhaps your foot will brush against mine, and I will move mine back, waiting for the moment, then I shall move it forward, brushing it against yours, whilst maintaining perfect composure. I may even continue my conversation to left and right, though you shall know that my passions are focused on you,” she said, as he laughed and dabbed his mouth with a napkin.
“Precisely. And depending on the length of the meal, we shall feel our passions aroused to the most uncontrollable heights. It would be a most unsettling situation, though not without its joys,” he said, pushing aside his plate.
Catherine rather liked the idea of such a seduction, or rather, she enjoyed playing at it with Ian. She could not imagine doing it for real, though perhaps if the two of them found themselves at a dinner with others she might.
“And have you yourself been seduced in such a way, she asked, wondering if he had played such a game with others. He smiled and nodded, pausing for a moment as though remembering some long-ago affair.
“I have experienced such a thing, yes, though I am surprised you yourself have not,” he replied.
“I have never given myself opportunity to do so, Mr. Benn… Ian,” she replied, just as the maids entered the dining room to clear away the dishes and present the final course – a spectacular Charlotte Russe.
“Well, this luncheon has been quite the education for you, has it not?” he asked, and Catherine smiled.
“I am sure you are to tell me that there is still much for me to learn,” she said, dabbing her mouth with a napkin.
Ian pondered for a moment, a smile playing across his face. “A little, perhaps, although you are possessed of considerable talents. It is not just any woman who can seduce me,” he admitted.
“I was not aware that I had. Were you not merely doing me a favor?” she asked, and he shook his head.
“You gave me your favor, too,” he replied, and Catherine startled as she felt the touch of his foot against her leg.
“It seems I am still not entirely at composure when it comes to a gentleman’s touch,” she said, taking a spoonful of the Charlotte Russe to her lips.
“Then there is still much to learn,” he replied, withdrawing his foot, though his eyes remained rigidly fixed on her, his gaze unwavering.
He smiled at her, taking up his spoon and sliding it into his piece of the Charlotte Russe, before reaching across the table and bringing it to her lips. She blushed, allowing him to feed her the sweet, delicate dessert, feeling herself ever more enamored by his seduction.
“Am I to do that, too?” she asked, taking her own spoon and offering to him.
He nodded, allowing her to feed him, the pleasure of their game heightening with every moment. For the rest of the luncheon, it seemed he toyed with her, offering her opportunities to make her own attempts at seduction, whilst engaging in his own, too. Catherine enjoyed their back and forth, though it was unclear whether or not this was a lesson or the real thing. Was he merely playing games with her, she wondered?
“I must be leaving now, no doubt a search party has already been sent out for me,” she said, rising from the table, and laughing at her own joke.
“Must you go?” he asked, and Catherine blushed.
“What is the answer from the lesson?” she replied, and he raised a finger to his chin, as though contemplating the answer.
“Well, a lady would perhaps not remain. She has given the illusion of expectation, just enough to tantalize the gentleman, but she has not given everything, and this then will keep him interested,” he replied, and Catherine laughed.
“But what if I wished to stay, what if it was time for such tête-à-tête to become more,” she said, rising from the table.
“Then perhaps she would linger, allow the gentleman to follow her to the hallway where they might be alone. You must remember that you have shared a dinner in company, rather than an intimate luncheon,” he reminded her, escorting her from the dining room and into the hallway.
“And what do you, as the gentleman, wish for?” she asked, as they stood together on the marbled hallway floor, as close as they had been in the park the day before.
“It is the lady’s wish; a gentleman cannot force himself on her. Remember, it is you who have seduced me,” he said, and Catherine looked up into his eyes, suddenly desirous of his lips, the touch of his hand, and his embrace.
“Then this is what I wish,” she said, and leaning forward, she kissed him, pulling him to her, their lips as one in a moment of passion and arousal.
As their lips parted, Ian looked at her in surprise, for there had been such a force in their coming together as to leave them both breathless. Catherine blushed, stepping back in astonishment at the power of the feelings which had seemed to overwhelm her. For a moment, it had seemed that all the games, the ruse, the deception, everything had disappeared, replaced by the simplicity of a kiss between two lovers, two hearts entwined not from deception but from true and sincere feeling.
“Will I see you tomorrow?” he asked, and Catherine nodded.
“If I can make my excuses, yes, you will, and perhaps you will show me how this will continue,” she replied, blushing as she took her leave.
“It would be my pleasure,” he replied, “for there is still so very much to teach you.”
