Impassioned by Darcy Burke
Chapter 12
The moment Sabrina stepped inside the Phoenix Club, she felt an overwhelming sense of lightness. There was joy here—sparkling candlelight, laughter, warm and genial employees who greeted her and offered to take care of any need.
It was quite different than her previous visit the night before when she’d been secreted into a side door, ushered up the backstairs to Evie’s office, and then taken through a hidden doorway to the gentlemen’s side of the second floor.
She looked up at the massive painting of Circe with her nymphs as they seduced Odysseus’s men. Some of them already sported snouts and hooves.
“Isn’t that a magnificent piece?” Evie met her in the foyer.
“Quite.”
“Lucien had it commissioned. It has a brother over on the men’s side—Pan hosting a bacchanalia.”
“How decadent.”
Evie laughed softly. “That describes Lucien, actually. Or at least, the image he projects.”
Sabrina thought of her brother-in-law’s unassuming residence and wasn’t sure she agreed with that assessment. “He strikes me as a rather economical person.”
“To do with himself, yes. But when it comes to the club or others, he will spare no effort and no expense. He’s an incredibly generous person.”
He did seem that. She wondered how the Duke of Evesham had managed to rear such a child. But then she thought of all the ways in which Constantine had been generous—from ensuring she had a beautiful, comfortable residence to allowing her to claim it entirely and make it her own. The red-covered book detailing the plans for the renovation of the parkland was another instance of his generosity, as well as his thoughtfulness. While he may not say the things she wanted to hear, he’d certainly acted in ways that let her know he cared.
And what, exactly, did she hope he would say?
Thankfully, she wasn’t able to chase that intrusive thought because a footman approached with a missive for Evie. “Lord Lucien bade me give this to you. I’m to wait to see if you have a response.”
“Thank you, Dexter.” Evie opened the parchment and read, her lips curling into her heart-stopping smile. “Aldington has requested a meeting with the tutor. Shall we say one o’clock so you have ample time to enjoy the ball?”
Constantine wanted to meet with her—rather, the tutor—again? He’d said he wouldn’t. “I—” Her mind arrested, wondering what had provoked his request.
“I need to give Lucien a response,” Evie urged.
“Yes, one o’clock is fine.” Her mind swam. She’d had to prepare herself extensively for their last meeting. There would be no such luxury this time. Perhaps she would drink an extra glass—or ten—of champagne.
Evie gave their verbal response to the footman, who then departed toward the gentlemen’s side of the club. She offered her arm to Sabrina. “Don’t be nervous.”
“How can you tell I’m nervous?”
“Because though our friendship is young, I believe I’ve come to know you well. You require time to think about things and to muster your courage, particularly when it is a new or intimidating experience.”
A lump rose in Sabrina’s throat. “You do know me well. No one has ever understood that about me.” She whispered the last, feeling as if she’d received the greatest gift.
Evie patted her forearm. “Thank you for sharing your true self with me. I hope you’ll do the same with your husband.”
Sabrina had, at least a little, that evening when she’d told him about her anxiety. There was so much she should have revealed about herself, things that could have helped their marriage be more successful.
“I wasn’t ready to do that before,” Sabrina said quietly. “But I am now.” Her parents had pushed her into this union, and it had taken her this long to get to where she could feel a modicum of comfort.
“Marvelous,” Evie said brightly. “Now, let us go into the assembly. You look stunning in this new ball gown, by the way. The blue-green suits you well.”
Sabrina murmured her thanks as they moved past the cloakroom into the ballroom. The large space was really two spaces—each club had a ballroom—with doors that separated them. Locked at every other time, they were thrown open during assemblies to make one large ballroom. Gleaming chandeliers cast a glow over the brightly clothed ladies and the dashingly garbed gentlemen as they moved over the polished parquet floor.
“The dancing takes place on the gentlemen’s side because it has the mezzanine for the musicians. Over here is where people mingle and take refreshment,” Evie explained.
Tables ladened with food and drink beckoned the guests, and footmen carried trays of champagne. Music began to filter through the doorways—a waltz.
“Waltzing is allowed here?” Sabrina asked.
“Many things are allowed here that would not be elsewhere,” Evie said with a triumphant nod. “You must come on Tuesday evening, for that is the one night each week when the female members are allowed to enter the gentlemen’s side.”
“And when are they invited to this side?”
Evie laughed. “Never. Other than assemblies, when only the ballroom and garden are available to them, they are firmly excluded. It’s only fitting since there are so many places we may not go.”
Sabrina could find no fault with that argument. Scanning the room, she looked for people she knew and realized there weren’t very many. But then, she scarcely knew anyone really. Instead of feeling eager to make acquaintances and show everyone that she was not the meek countess they might remember—or perhaps, more accurately, who they didn’t recall at all—she found herself thinking about her appointment later. Why had Constantine requested it?
Alas, the curiosity was bound to nibble at her all evening while she played the role that she’d accepted nearly two years ago. She gave her head a shake and told herself to focus on being the countess she needed to be. One who the Duke of Evesham would allow to sponsor his daughter. She realized she didn’t see Cassandra there, but then she wasn’t a member, and apparently couldn’t be since she wasn’t married.
“Perhaps you can explain who is here tonight,” Sabrina said. “Only members?”
“Mostly, but you’ll see plenty of young ladies on the Marriage Mart here. If one’s sponsor is a member, they may attend the assemblies. We’ve also recently expanded the rules as to who may come to include family of members.”
“Then my sister-in-law should be here, should she not?”
“She attended last week. However, it is my understanding that the duke does not want her to come to every assembly. In fact, I think he has said that last Friday was the only one she could attend.” Evie grimaced. “He’s so dictatorial, but then I suppose you know that.”
“Yes,” Sabrina murmured. “If I’m able to become her sponsor, I will try to persuade His Grace that she be allowed to come. This seems a far better place to meet someone than Almack’s.” Her shoulders twitched as she recalled the one time she’d visited that most auspicious place. She hadn’t relaxed during the entire evening and had been more than grateful that her impending betrothal had prevented a second ordeal.
“I do hope that will come to pass.” Evie looked about the room. “I keep trying to think of a suitable groom for Lady Cassandra, but so far I haven’t discovered anyone who I think will keep her interest. Perhaps more importantly, I can’t think of anyone who wants to take on the duke as a father-in-law.” She flashed Sabrina a look of admiration. “You are quite the brave soul.”
Laughter erupted from Sabrina with such force that she had to clap her hand over her mouth. “Not at all. The man terrifies me still and probably always will. I’ve always thought of him as the man who coldly arranged my marriage.”
Evie gave her a look of sympathy. “I do hope you and Aldington will be able to find some measure of happiness.”
“Until you introduced me to the possibility of a pleasing…physical relationship, I only wanted to have an amiable marriage—and a child.”
“And now you want more?”
“I think I do.” The thoughtful husband who gave her gifts and took drastic measures to improve the sexual nature of their marriage was someone she wanted. As desperately as she wanted a child, she desired her husband. “But I don’t know if Aldington does.”
“I don’t think he would be meeting with a tutor for help if he didn’t want something…more.” Evie smiled encouragingly.
How Sabrina hoped her friend was right.
Because Sabrina had not known she would be playing the part of the tutor this evening, she was wearing far more clothing than the night before—she’d dressed for a ball, not seduction. But then, last night’s meeting hadn’t required her to be dressed, or not dressed, in any particular way. She rather assumed that tonight would be the same, but Evie convinced her to don a scarlet dressing gown she’d procured. Even though Aldington wouldn’t see the garment, and it was likely unnecessary, the fitted gown helped Sabrina transition from elegant countess to tempting former courtesan.
As with last time, she waited in the chamber next to the one where Constantine was located. A knock on the door, just like the previous night, told her it was time. That he was ready.
Taking a deep breath, Sabrina stepped into the dim corridor. She knew Lucien was somewhere nearby, ensuring that no one happened upon them, particularly while she moved between rooms.
She hurried into Constantine’s chamber, barely opening the door before slipping inside. The interior was even darker than the corridor had been, with only the single candle burning on the mantel.
Constantine stood where he had last night, near the bedpost, his eyes covered with a dark blindfold. She wished she could see his eyes for they were quite lovely with their long lashes and captivating hazel color. However, with them masked, the rest of his features commanded her attention. Despite the near darkness, she could make out the aquiline slope of his nose, as well as his lips, especially the lush, full lower one. She’d stared at it last night, wondering what it would be like to take it between her teeth.
“Good evening,” she said, employing the Welsh lilt she’d used before and cutting herself off before she called him “my lord.” It was difficult to remember she wasn’t supposed to know his identity.
“Thank you for seeing me again.” His voice seemed different too, lower and rougher. Arousing.
“I was surprised you asked. And so soon.”
He took a step toward her. “I needed to see you. To…talk.”
She watched his hands flex and his chest rise and fall with rapid breaths. Last night, he’d discarded his coat and boots. Tonight, he’d only removed his coat.
“Is that all you wish to do? Talk?”
It took him a long minute to answer, and when he did, he sounded strained. “Yes.”
Constantine raked his hand through the front of his hair, tousling the light brown waves over his forehead. It made him look reckless. She liked it, then wondered if she might like it more if she’d been the one to do it. Oh, she was feeling quite audacious this evening.
She liked the sensation. She felt…powerful. Or as if she could be.
“I don’t know how to begin with my wife.” He pivoted toward the bed and reached out to grip the post. That had helped to steady him last night—she was sure of it. And that knowledge had filled her with a joyful satisfaction. She’d pushed him to the edge, and he’d stepped off it into wild abandon.
He continued, “She invited me to visit her bed later tonight, but I don’t know what she actually wants. There is so much I don’t understand about her.” There was an agony in his tone that tore at her chest. “I wish she hadn’t hidden herself from me.”
No one regretted that more than Sabrina. She hadn’t been able to see past her fear and anxiety to give this man—her husband—a chance. Moving toward him, she stopped just shy of touching him. “Is she hiding from you now?”
“No. I just wish I knew if she really wanted me.” He let out a low, harsh laugh. “Don’t we all want to be desired?”
“Is she desired?”
He let go of the post and faced her. She tried to imagine his gaze behind the blindfold. Did he keep his eyes closed, or was he staring at her, unseeing, through the fabric?
“Yes.” The word was barely audible. He cleared his throat and said it again, this time with more volume and weight. “You have to help me. I don’t know what to do. She suffers from some sort of affliction, I think, where she can’t face people without great effort. I wish I’d known this when we wed. I would have—” He exhaled and dropped his head forward to massage the back of his neck. “I would have been more considerate.”
“You might have guided her?” Sabrina asked, wishing they could go back and start over.
“I think so.” He exhaled. “It’s so hard to say. We both started with the absolute wrong expectations. But I am trying to set things right.” Turning, he sat on the edge of the bed, moving cautiously and using his hands to find his way. “I mean to seduce her, as you suggested. However, I don’t want to move too quickly. She is easily agitated.”
Sabrina’s chest expanded as she listened to him. Could this be her husband? She’d never estimated the depth of his thoughtfulness. “You seem to be such a generous person.”
As soon as the word generous left her lips, her mouth went dry with fear. She’d said that to him earlier, as his wife. Gathering her dressing gown in her fists, she squeezed, worried that he would put everything together and determine her identity.
Best not to let him think about it.
“Why did you want to see me tonight?”
He licked his lips. “I thought I might…tell you what I would do.”
“That is an excellent idea.” Her body was already hungry with need, just from the prospect of hearing him talk about what he would do to her. “What you would do to your wife if she were here?”
The intake of his breath, sharp and sudden, fanned the desire smoldering within her. “That would depend on what she would allow.”
“Pretend she would permit you anything. Would you kiss her? Caress her? Bring her release? Tell me.”
“I would feast upon her with my eyes. She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”
Sabrina’s knees quaked under the aching sweetness of his words. “Tell me what you would do after you looked your fill of her. Imagine I am your wife.”
She saw him swallow, his throat working. “She’s nude,” he rasped. “I would kiss her—with my lips and tongue, exploring every part of her mouth.”
Heat pooled in Sabrina’s sex and built, like a fire taking hold from a flickering spark to an eager, hungry flame. “What then?”
“I would kiss along her neck,” he continued, his voice deeply sensual, captivating her with each word. “She smells like vanilla and apples, so fresh and sweet. The scent is most potent between her breasts, I think. I would bury my face there, cupping her flesh before I took one of her nipples into my mouth.”
In response, Sabrina’s nipples hardened to stiff points. She’d never experienced quite this sensation, this aching fullness, desperate for his touch. And all of it came from just words. “Then what would you do?”
“I would use my tongue and perhaps my teeth—gently, of course—and I would suckle her. Hard. Until she cried out. I have to determine what she likes. Will she like me to pinch her, to torment her until she can no longer bear it?”
Sabrina pressed her thighs together to ease the pulsing ache between them. “I think she would like that. Tell me what else.”
“I would stroke her sex and tease her until she was panting.”
Sabrina’s lips had parted, and she realized she was precariously close to doing exactly what he described.
Constantine went on, “When she could no longer bear the anticipation, I would press my finger into her.”
Unable to suffer another moment, she perched beside him on the bed, careful not to touch him. She pressed her hand between her legs and stroked herself through the silk of the dressing gown. “Please. Don’t stop. What else would you do?”
“I’d fill her with my fingers and make her come.”
Sabrina longed to open the gown and do what he said. Actually, she wanted him to do it, but he couldn’t. Not like this. She rubbed her clitoris, her hips moving gently.
“Are you…?” His unfinished question made her stop.
Filling her lungs, she moved her hand to her thigh. “Please, continue.”
“I would marvel at her naked beauty, at the honeyed curls guarding the sweetest part of her. And then I would taste, softly at first. When she relaxed—if she relaxed—I’d claim her. She is mine.” His breath caressed her ear. “You didn’t have to stop. I won’t touch you, but you can touch yourself.”
“Will you?” Sabrina managed to ask. The notion of them together on this bed, pleasuring themselves in concert, was incredibly erotic. She was quivering at the thought.
“I wasn’t going to, but I admit it’s difficult when I imagine my wife splayed nude before me.” He inhaled sharply. “It’s a dream, and I don’t know if it will ever come true.”
“It will.” Sabrina was so tempted to tell him who she was, to show him that his dream could come true. “I can’t imagine your wife resisting or not reacting—with complete abandon—to this seduction. You can do this.” She was desperate for him to try.
“I will…try what you suggest. It’s difficult to imagine talking to her when she blushes at the slightest provocation.”
Frustration rippled through Sabrina. She wasn’t as pathetic as that, was she? She’d been assertive and straightforward on several occasions since coming to town. Perhaps she needed to do more to invite him to talk to her, to reveal himself. To reveal his desires. “Think of her as a woman with wants and needs she hasn’t discovered yet. Show her what she has been missing. Don’t you think she will appreciate that?”
“When you put it like that, yes. I will start with talking to her and not necessarily just about this. We need to establish a level of comfort between us. An intimacy such that even friends share.”
His words made her want to swoon. “That is an excellent way to begin.”
“Would you mind going now?” he asked.
She stood from the bed, her knees weak from her unsatisfied desire. “Your wife is a lucky woman. I hope you show her how much soon.”
She hurried from the room, taking care to glance about the corridor before she closed the door behind her. Even more quickly, she rushed to the chamber with her clothing. She rang a bellpull, and someone knew to summon Evie, who would help her dress.
While she waited, she went back over his every word and nearly succumbed to touching herself. She would wait, however, in case he visited her bedchamber later. If he didn’t, she may become impatient and throw herself at him.
Anticipation danced along her flesh as she realized the stakes had changed. She wanted much more than just a child. She wanted a real marriage.