To Catch an Heiress
Page 53
With sweet hesitation she slid down and kissed his smooth-shaven jaw. Then she moved to his ear, then his neck, and Blake thought he would surely die in her arms if his passion remained unfulfilled. He pushed her dress even lower, revealing one small but, in his opinion, perfectly shaped breast.
He bent his head to her and took the nipple in his mouth, the rosy bud tightening between his lips. She was moaning beneath him, calling out his name, and he knew she wanted him.
And the knowledge thrilled him.
“Oh Blake oh Blake oh Blake,” she groaned. “Can you do that?”
“I assure you I can,” he said with a low chuckle.
She gasped as he sucked a touch harder. “No, but is it allowed?”
His chuckle turned into a throaty laugh. “Anything is allowed, my sweet.”
“Yes, but I—ooooooohhhhhh.”
Blake grinned with a very masculine smugness as her words lost their coherence. “And now,” he said with a wicked leer, “I can do it to the other one.”
His hands went to work pushing her dress off her other shoulder, but just before he revealed his prize, he heard the most awful sound.
Perriwick.
“Sir? Sir? Sir!!!” This, accompanied by the most annoyingly persistent knocking.
“Blake!” Caroline gasped.
“Shhh.” He clamped his hand over her mouth. “He'll go away.”
“Mr. Ravenscroft! It's most urgent!”
“I don't think he's going to go away,” she whispered, her words getting muffled under his palm.
“Perriwick!” Blake bellowed. “I'm busy. Go away. Now!”
“Yes, I thought as much,” the butler said through the door. “It's what I most feared.”
“He knows I'm here,” Caroline hissed. Then, quite suddenly, she turned red as a raspberry. “Oh, dear Lord, he knows I'm here. What have I done?”
Blake cursed under his breath. Caroline had clearly just regained her senses and remembered that no lady of her consequence did the sort of things she'd been doing. And, damn it, that made him remember as well, and he was quite unable to take advantage of her while his conscience was in full working order.
“I can't let Perriwick see me,” she said frantically.
“He's just the butler,” Blake replied, knowing that wasn't the point but a little too frustrated to care.
“He's my friend. And his opinion of me matters.”
“To whom?”
“To me, you nodcock.” She was trying to right her appearance with such haste that her fingers kept slipping over the buttons of her dress.
“Here,” Blake said, giving her a shove. “Into the washing room.”
Caroline dashed into the smaller chamber with alacrity, grabbing her slippers at the very last minute. As soon as the door clicked behind her, she heard Blake yank open the door to his room and say, rather nastily, “What do you want, Perriwick?”
“If I may be so bold, sir—”
“Perriwick.” Blake's voice was laced with heavy warning. Caroline feared for the butler's safety if he didn't get to the point with all possible haste. At this rate, Blake was likely to boot him right out the window.
“Right, sir. It's Miss Trent. I can't find her anywhere.”
“I wasn't aware that Miss Trent was required to apprise you of her whereabouts at every given moment.”
“No, of course not, Mr. Ravenscroft, but I found this at the top of the stairs, and—”
Caroline instinctively leaned closer to the door, wondering what “this” was.
“I'm sure she just dropped it,” Blake said. “Ribbons fall from ladies' hair all the time.”
Her hand flew up to her head. When had she lost her ribbon? Had Blake run his hands through her hair when he was kissing her in the hall?
“I realize that,” Perriwick replied, “but I am worried nonetheless. If I knew where she was, I am certain I could allay my fears.”
“As it happens,” came Blake's voice, “I know exactly where Miss Trent is.”
Caroline gasped. Surely he wouldn't give her away.
Blake said, “She decided to take advantage of the fine weather and has gone for a stroll in the countryside.”
“But I thought you said her presence here at Sea-crest Manor was a secret.”
“It is, but there is no reason she can't go outside as long as she doesn't wander too far from the grounds. There are very few conveyances traveling this road. No one is likely to see her.”
“I see. I shall keep an eye out for her, then. Perhaps she would like something to eat when she returns.”
“I'm sure she would like that above all else.”
Caroline touched her stomach. She was a little hungry. And to be completely truthful, the thought of a walk along the beach sounded quite nice. Just the sort of thing to clear her head, which the Lord certainly knew needed clearing.
She took a step away from the door, and Blake's and Perriwick's voices faded. Then she noticed another door on the opposite side of the washing room. She tested the doorknob gingerly, and was pleasantly surprised to note that it let her out in the side stairwell—the one usually used by servants. She looked over her shoulder, toward Blake, even though she couldn't see him.
He'd said she could go for a walk, even if it had been part of an elaborate fabrication designed to fool poor Perriwick. Caroline couldn't see any reason not to go ahead and do just that.
Within a few seconds she had dashed down the stairs and was outside. A minute later she was out of sight of the house and striding along the edge of the cliff that overlooked the blue-gray English Channel. The sea air was invigorating, but not nearly as much as the knowledge that Blake was going to be completely confused when he peered into the washing room and found her missing.
He bent his head to her and took the nipple in his mouth, the rosy bud tightening between his lips. She was moaning beneath him, calling out his name, and he knew she wanted him.
And the knowledge thrilled him.
“Oh Blake oh Blake oh Blake,” she groaned. “Can you do that?”
“I assure you I can,” he said with a low chuckle.
She gasped as he sucked a touch harder. “No, but is it allowed?”
His chuckle turned into a throaty laugh. “Anything is allowed, my sweet.”
“Yes, but I—ooooooohhhhhh.”
Blake grinned with a very masculine smugness as her words lost their coherence. “And now,” he said with a wicked leer, “I can do it to the other one.”
His hands went to work pushing her dress off her other shoulder, but just before he revealed his prize, he heard the most awful sound.
Perriwick.
“Sir? Sir? Sir!!!” This, accompanied by the most annoyingly persistent knocking.
“Blake!” Caroline gasped.
“Shhh.” He clamped his hand over her mouth. “He'll go away.”
“Mr. Ravenscroft! It's most urgent!”
“I don't think he's going to go away,” she whispered, her words getting muffled under his palm.
“Perriwick!” Blake bellowed. “I'm busy. Go away. Now!”
“Yes, I thought as much,” the butler said through the door. “It's what I most feared.”
“He knows I'm here,” Caroline hissed. Then, quite suddenly, she turned red as a raspberry. “Oh, dear Lord, he knows I'm here. What have I done?”
Blake cursed under his breath. Caroline had clearly just regained her senses and remembered that no lady of her consequence did the sort of things she'd been doing. And, damn it, that made him remember as well, and he was quite unable to take advantage of her while his conscience was in full working order.
“I can't let Perriwick see me,” she said frantically.
“He's just the butler,” Blake replied, knowing that wasn't the point but a little too frustrated to care.
“He's my friend. And his opinion of me matters.”
“To whom?”
“To me, you nodcock.” She was trying to right her appearance with such haste that her fingers kept slipping over the buttons of her dress.
“Here,” Blake said, giving her a shove. “Into the washing room.”
Caroline dashed into the smaller chamber with alacrity, grabbing her slippers at the very last minute. As soon as the door clicked behind her, she heard Blake yank open the door to his room and say, rather nastily, “What do you want, Perriwick?”
“If I may be so bold, sir—”
“Perriwick.” Blake's voice was laced with heavy warning. Caroline feared for the butler's safety if he didn't get to the point with all possible haste. At this rate, Blake was likely to boot him right out the window.
“Right, sir. It's Miss Trent. I can't find her anywhere.”
“I wasn't aware that Miss Trent was required to apprise you of her whereabouts at every given moment.”
“No, of course not, Mr. Ravenscroft, but I found this at the top of the stairs, and—”
Caroline instinctively leaned closer to the door, wondering what “this” was.
“I'm sure she just dropped it,” Blake said. “Ribbons fall from ladies' hair all the time.”
Her hand flew up to her head. When had she lost her ribbon? Had Blake run his hands through her hair when he was kissing her in the hall?
“I realize that,” Perriwick replied, “but I am worried nonetheless. If I knew where she was, I am certain I could allay my fears.”
“As it happens,” came Blake's voice, “I know exactly where Miss Trent is.”
Caroline gasped. Surely he wouldn't give her away.
Blake said, “She decided to take advantage of the fine weather and has gone for a stroll in the countryside.”
“But I thought you said her presence here at Sea-crest Manor was a secret.”
“It is, but there is no reason she can't go outside as long as she doesn't wander too far from the grounds. There are very few conveyances traveling this road. No one is likely to see her.”
“I see. I shall keep an eye out for her, then. Perhaps she would like something to eat when she returns.”
“I'm sure she would like that above all else.”
Caroline touched her stomach. She was a little hungry. And to be completely truthful, the thought of a walk along the beach sounded quite nice. Just the sort of thing to clear her head, which the Lord certainly knew needed clearing.
She took a step away from the door, and Blake's and Perriwick's voices faded. Then she noticed another door on the opposite side of the washing room. She tested the doorknob gingerly, and was pleasantly surprised to note that it let her out in the side stairwell—the one usually used by servants. She looked over her shoulder, toward Blake, even though she couldn't see him.
He'd said she could go for a walk, even if it had been part of an elaborate fabrication designed to fool poor Perriwick. Caroline couldn't see any reason not to go ahead and do just that.
Within a few seconds she had dashed down the stairs and was outside. A minute later she was out of sight of the house and striding along the edge of the cliff that overlooked the blue-gray English Channel. The sea air was invigorating, but not nearly as much as the knowledge that Blake was going to be completely confused when he peered into the washing room and found her missing.
