Seduce Me, If You Dare by Alyssa Clarke
Chapter Five
Several days danced by lazily, with Prue anticipating Oscar taking her to the pleasure gardens. In that time, she studied erotic literature, inuring herself against her own blushes at seeing the bawdy and provocative images. Prue also extended her reading to a few other books that were more sensual than explicit, trying to understand the lure of being bedded. She had also met with Lucinda alone a few times, who had willingly told Prue about what matters can be like between a man and a woman.
“It can be a very pleasant experience. As you seduce your husband, you will also find your senses enticed. A double-edged sword…seduction. But that is what we want in your arrangement.”
“The art of kissing can be as carnal as the coupling act.”
“Take the time and build a rapport with your husband. If he is reluctant, lead the conversation. Flatter his vanity if needs be. The gentlemanly honor inside him will compel him to respond.”
Those had been samples of the advice from her widowed friend. Prue had tried to put it into practice but received little opportunity to set anything into motion. Oscar appeared exceedingly busy with his political dinners and meetings at his club. The last time they had dinner together was over a week ago, where their conversation had been pleasant but hardly rousing. Once again, they played chess, and she had won after an intense match to Prue's delight. They had parted ways again with the same courtesies, and she had retired to her chamber, staring at the connecting door for endless minutes before clambering onto her bed.
Prue had been making the rounds on the social scene with her friends from the club at the new Earl of Sherburn’s introductory ball. Theo had returned to town with an announcement that had set 48 Berkeley Square all atwitter. She had wed the Duke of Hartford by special license. The news that there was finally a Duchess of Hartford had swept through the ton like a wildfire causing rife speculation in the scandal sheets. Everyone wanted to know how and why the duke had not married Lady Edith, who society had picked to be his duchess.
Prue scoffed at their pretensions. Thankfully society did not know the nature of Theo and the duke’s meeting or how they had come to fall in love. Or surely, a scandal would have lingered for days…months. Lady Perdie had also returned, appropriately apologetic to her family and friends for having run away. The ladies at the club were simply glad that society seemed unaware of it, thus avoiding a scandal, and Perdie was none the worse after her reckless adventure.
Thankfully their wonderful presence helped with the aching loneliness that seemed to have grown despite Prue’s plans. It felt exceptionally difficult to get her husband alone. Had he forgotten his promise to visit the pleasure gardens with her?
A pale lilac dress swished into her viewpoint, and Prue smiled to see the owner of that sensual walk was Miss Frederica Williams, one of their most recent members at 48 Berkeley Square. Her guardian was the devilishly handsome Percy Deveraux, Marquess of Wolverton, with a reputation for breaking ladies' hearts by refusing to marry despite being so eligible. Predictably the man was in attendance and scowling down into a glass.
“What have you done to your poor guardian?” Prue said with a laugh as Frederica came up beside her.
“He forbade me from cutting my hair again,” she said with a grin that deepened the dimples in her cheeks. Her blue eyes glittering with too much ire, Frederica continued, “I removed a few more inches. I need to find another way to vex him, or I’ll soon go bald.”
It was then Prue noted the short pixie cut that normally framed Frederica’s face was shorter and curlier. Prue chuckled. “He might ship you off to the country soon if you continue vexing him.”
“Better than marrying as he is telling me I must do. The odious man!” She cast her guardian a glare which he saw, for he returned a black scowl. The girl then winked, and he narrowed his gaze lifting his glass to her.
Now, what did that mean? Prue suspected some gauntlet had been thrown down.
“Is that the new Earl of Sherburn?” Frederica asked with a soft gasp, ignoring her guardian. “Dear me, the man is staring at Perdie in the most scandalous fashion!”
With a frown, Prue followed Frederica’s gaze and stilled. She was right. The earl looked at Perdie with naked longing. Prue took a sip from her champagne glass, arching a brow at the very caught look on Perdie’s face.
“They know each other,” Prue murmured. How curious, only yesterday at the club, they had spoken of the new earl and even set a wager around his name. Perdie had not seemed like she knew the man. When had they met? The earl was very new in town. Unless Perdie had met the man in the time she ran away?
“Oh my, I think Perdie might win the wager without trying,” Frederica said.
Before Prue could answer, her husband snagged her attention. Her heart clamoring, she stood still as he approached, his steps languid and graceful. How handsome he appeared in his black trousers and jacket, accented by a dark silver waistcoat. His jacket fitted his broad shoulders so perfectly, and not for the first time she wondered what activity her husband did to keep so fit.
“My lord,” Prue said, smiling up at him. Her fingers twitched with the urge to brush back the lock of hair curling on his forehead. “I was not aware you were in attendance.”
“I had it on good authority you would be here.”
So I am here, lingered but remained unsaid.
“Will you honor me with this dance, countess?” he asked just as the waltz was announced.
Her heart shook. Our second dance. She allowed her husband to sweep her onto the dancefloor, seeing that the Earl of Sherburn also led Perdie to the floor. Their shared expression spoke volumes. Oh, dear. They did indeed know each other, and it seemed to be an intimate acquaintance.
“You are ravishing tonight, countess.”
Prue smiled up at him. “Thank you.”
“I have been busy of late,” he said, fitting their bodies too close as he spun her in the elegant dance. “I am working on a motion with a small group of lords, and it is taking more time than anticipated.”
Prue made no reply, but inside she smiled. He had never offered an explanation for his absence in her life before. This spoke of an awareness to his duty to her as his countess.
“Are you free tomorrow evening?”
Her only plans had been to call at 48 Berkeley Square. “I can be free,” she said, planning to only stay a couple of hours at the club.
“Good. Tomorrow we will visit the pleasure gardens.”
Her heart thrilled. “You remembered.”
His eyes darkened. “I would not have forgotten.”
She arched a teasing brow. “The invitation was made thirteen days ago. I have been languishing in hope.”
“I have been remiss, wife. I shall make amends.”
She delicately sniffed at his dry, almost amused response. “I am curious as to how you will do so.”
“I will think of something.”
“Perhaps we should set a wager,” she said with candor.
“A gentleman should not wager with a lady, especially his wife.”
“Oh, you poor man. The fun you’ll miss in this lifetime.”
Her husband surprised her by chuckling and pulling her even closer to his body. With a gasp, she glanced around to see who observed, but everyone was too busy watching the new earl dancing with Perdie.
“I will grant you a boon,” Oscar said with a slight smile. “Will that acquit me?”
“A boon?”
“Yes, I recalled at our first chess match you were keen on collecting one.”
A kiss. That was what she had wanted. “Accepted,” she said softly.
One of his elegant brows winged upward. “So, what is it?”
“I’ll take it when I am ready.”
“How suitably mysterious,” he drawled, his eyes questioning as they roamed over her features.
Prue offered no reply but merely smiled up at her lord in response. Tomorrow at the pleasure gardens, she’d find a way to claim her boon.
His countess’ssmile was the prettiest and most captivating Oscar ever had the pleasure to see. Not even the famed lamp lights of Vauxhall which had come on, turning the gardens into a fairyland of blue, yellow, and purple lights shone brighter than his wife. Her lovely eyes, which were set under delicately arched brows, gleamed with rich delight, and her generous mouth seemed specially made for smiling…and kissing. Bloody hell, he desperately wanted to kiss her, just to see if she tasted as warm and sweet as he recalled. Gritting his teeth until his jaw ached, Oscar looked away from his very tempting wife.
It was difficult to admit to himself that he could not stop staring at her or how much he enjoyed the closeness of her presence. They strolled along the dark walk of the pleasure gardens, her arm looped intimately around his, her body at times brushing against his and provoking too many desires. His wife looked delectable, so beautiful in a dark golden dress with a flattering and revealing décolletage, she looked nothing like the young girl he had married. He could not imagine a woman he would find more desirable than his wife. The tiny, delicate lace fichu around her neck was so flimsy it did not hide her luscious charms, merely tempted him to examine them more. So sophisticated and poised his wife seemed, so unlike the innocent waif he had stood next to as his bride.
How had he not noticed she had blossomed into this sensual woman. And wasn’t that the problem? He had been busy not looking lest he was tempted to act foolishly. His wife’s gown hugged to a figure that was lush and sensual. Yet it was not only the attraction of her bodily charms which seduced his senses but the way she laughed and basked in the entertainments around her. The very scent of her perfume fired his blood; he wanted to move closer and drink deep of that glorious mouth, which seemed to be begging for his attention.
“Oh, my,” she said with a delighted laugh as fireworks exploded skyward.
In the distance near the bridge, the observing crowd sent up a raucous cheer as more fireworks painted the night sky.
“I love it here,” his wife said, quickly glancing up at him.
“Some years ago, I read The Expedition of Humphry Clinker by Tobias Smollett. The book painted a picture of the pleasure gardens as a lush oasis with the multi-colored lamps shaped like constellations, stars, and suns.” Looking about, she continued, “The letters did not do justice to the gardens or the pavilions and lawns, temples and cascades. One of the reasons I longed to visit London was for the pleasure gardens and the museums. I have not really experienced the city yet. However, I am even more determined to do so now.”
A swift feeling of shame kicked him in the gut. Such simple outings, yet his wife had never partaken in any of them. As a husband, he had not sought to learn her likes and dislikes or even attempted to fulfill any wishes she might own. He had a lot to make up for, and he was damned glad she had taken the first step in forging a deeper connection between them. His young wife was mature enough to bridge the distance in their marriage. And what had he been doing? Concentrating on his work by burying his head in his ledgers attempting to fix the affairs of his estates across England and writing speeches for his party in parliament. As if his marriage was not important.
It is important too. It always had been, and he should have realized it sooner. The thought slammed into him, faltering his steps. He’d always held that marriage was a simple union with clearly defined roles and did not need to suffer any misunderstandings or messy complications. It did not need overwrought emotions, ideas, and notions about love—in his estimation, nonsensical emotion made people act in haste and recklessness. Nor did a marriage need outside affairs tainting its logical foundation. Marriage was merely a practical arrangement to secure political connections and a respectable bloodline for future generations, but it should still be faithful and honest. Those were his beliefs. Yet looking at the delight on his countess’s face and noting the odd way his heart skipped when she smiled, Oscar admitted there might be more to it than just pragmatism.
But what?