An Improper Proposal (The Distinguished Rogues Book 6) Read online

  “No.” He closed and locked the doors behind him and leaned against them. He kept the key hidden in his palm. “I’ve come to deliver your next lesson.”

  “That is not necessary, my lord.” She shook her head. “I think I’ve learned everything I need from you.”

  “Is that so?” He moved from the door, passing Iris with a smile and testing the table for strength. Undoubtedly sufficient for today’s lesson. He slipped the key into his waistcoat pocket. “You asked me once how often a protector might want to share your bed, and I should admit I gave you a halfway correct answer.”

  She folded her arms over her chest, pushing her breasts up. “A small detail.”

  He let his gaze linger there on her breasts long enough to see her fidget. “When a man considers taking a mistress, he is most times only interested in his own pleasure. And he will take it as often as he can, several times a day even, until he grows bored.”

  She appeared startled by the increase in number, as he’d hoped, but quickly squared her shoulders. “I shall ensure I have a sturdy bed.”

  He moved toward her, looked down into her stubborn face and smiled. “There’s no need to wait for a bed when any situation will do.”

  Before she could react, he caught her under the arms and deposited her on top of the mahogany dining table. He crowded her so she was made uncomfortable by his proximity. “Are you prepared to be set upon and taken at a moment’s notice because the blighter paid handsomely for your body?”

  Her eyes widened, her breath came fast.

  He stroked his fingers down her cheek, along her throat and down to her breast. He cupped it firmly and thumbed the nipple. “Because I tell you that being alone with you for as long as possible is most definitely at the foremost of my mind at this moment.”

  Her mouth opened. “But it is only eleven o’clock!”

  She truly had no idea of what she was headed for, but he did. “Any time of day is the perfect time for a dalliance.”

  The idea of her laid out on the table was too much temptation to resist. But unlike the blighters he’d been trying to warn her away from, Martin was determined to show her what would be missing in those cold couplings. He kissed her hungrily and rejoiced when her arms twined about his neck. However, today’s lesson wasn’t about kisses. He’d planned something entirely more shocking. He broke the kiss and was pleased at her whimper of complaint.

  He snagged a chair, sat upon it and widened her legs so he was seated between them. “It is never certain that a protector would consider your needs first before taking his own, but it’s all I can think about.”

  A strange smile flickered over her lips. “So you do desire me?”

  Did the woman not understand passion at all? Desire such as this could not be pretended. “Unbearably.”

  Her smile was radiant as she leaned down to kiss him again. She cupped his face and traced the seam of his lips with her tongue before drawing back. “Show me.”

  He set one hand behind her bottom and dragged her to the edge of the tabletop then reached for her ankles. He drew both feet up to rest on his spread thighs. Iris gripped the table edge, her eyes wide, her lip caught provocatively between her teeth. He removed one shoe and then placed her foot close to his hip so her knee remained bent. “Leave it there.”

  He caught her other foot and repeated the procedure, but then lifted it to his mouth and placed tender kisses on her ankle as he stripped away her stocking and revealed bare skin.

  A soft moan left her lips. “Might I ask questions?”

  “Of course.”

  “Why kiss me there?”

  “Why not? I would like to kiss you all over.” He kissed her shin, inching her gown and petticoat up as he went. When the fabric slid to her hips, revealing her bare sex, his cock ached. He kissed the inside of her knee and met her gaze. He placed his fingers lightly on her inner thighs and brushed them along her trembling leg. “Your neck, your back, your breasts, your bottom. I should like very much to push my tongue into your sex so I can taste your cream.”

  Her eyes widened and he brushed across her sex lightly with his thumbs. Iris said nothing to his declaration but her knuckles showed white on the edge of the table. He teased her curls again, and then pinched both lips lightly.

  “Yes,” she moaned as her eyes fluttered closed.

  He smiled at her provocative reaction. She might be innocent but the woman certainly wasn’t in the least prudish. He hoped what he offered would be enough. “Then lie back and I will give you the best lesson of all. I will show you how pleasurable making love should be.”

  Iris crumpled to the hardwood table, obedient and pliant and his.

  He glanced down at her sex and stroked her lips again, hearing a soft whimper leave her throat. Very carefully he parted her folds, and blew softly over the sensitive area. Her hips lifted from the tabletop toward his mouth.

  He rested one arm over her hips, holding her down with light pressure while he traced her entrance gently, breathing in the scent of her arousal as his fingers teased her passions higher. As he dipped near her entrance, he found greater moisture. Iris, for her part, couldn’t seem to stop moving. He gripped her hips firmly and leaned in to kiss her sex.

  Iris bucked and gasped as Martin flicked his tongue along her opening. Her hands landed on his arm where it draped across her stomach. Her fingers dug in as he found her clit and lightly sucked on the sensitive nubbin.

  She twisted, arching on the table so provocatively he was dislodged. He stifled a laugh and kissed her thigh and returned to kiss her sex hungrily as soon as she settled. Iris gasped and bucked but he was prepared this time for her response, and continued.

  All of a sudden, her body convulsed beneath his mouth and she sobbed out loud.

  Martin turned Iris onto her side, bringing her knees together while she calmed down. Her breath was rough and fast and he stroked her back soothingly. Her white bottom, however, faced him and he couldn’t resist kissing her soft flesh just once or twice.

  He was hard as stone and losing the battle to be a gentleman.

  He scooped her off the table and onto his lap and straightened her skirts. When he was satisfied he’d set her to rights, he ran his hand up her torso and cupped her breast. The soft orb filled his hand perfectly.

  He kissed her brow and cuddled her against him. “That is how you should always feel after a lover’s touch. Sated, boneless, exhausted from too much pleasure.”

  “I must be wicked, too, because I must insist you do that again.” She sighed. “I had no idea.”

  He stiffened. “I should not.”

  “Why do you say that? You said it yourself that you want me.”

  “You don’t understand. There are very good reasons we would not suit.”

  She was silent for a long time, but her fingers played with his cravat. “I cannot accept that until you explain yourself. Do you already have a mistress?”

  He kissed her brow and relaxed his grip. “No, not for a long time.”

  She eased away from him but did not leave her perch on his knees. She glanced down at where her fingers toyed with his cravat. “Are you engaged to be married? Esme avoids lovers who have formed an attachment elsewhere and I think that is a very sensible idea. No one’s feelings should be hurt if you chose me.”

  He smiled at her persistence. Clearly she liked the way he made her feel and he couldn’t deny making love even in a limited fashion satisfied his senses. He traced her bottom lip with his thumb. “I have no attachments.”

  She lifted her brow. “Then what? Am I not pretty enough for your taste?”

  “You are beautiful, but…”

  Her brow furrowed. Clearly she had no inkling of what the problem was.

  “You are so tiny,” he said in the end. He compared the size of their hands. His dwarfed hers. “Too small for a brute like me.”

  She linked their fingers together. “I’d hardly describe you in that fashion. In my first season I suffered bruised t
oes many a night. Never once were you the reason for my discomfort.”

  Martin teased the skin of her neck, unable to stop touching her even though he must. “And if I got a babe on you? What then?”

  She blinked at that. “Then we would have a child.”

  “No. Any child of mine would likely kill you.” He tossed her off his lap and stood, trembling with panic at the idea of her in peril. “I won’t allow any harm to come to you if I can prevent it.”

  There was silence at his back for a long time. “So the only reason you do resist is out of concern for my health.”

  “Of course it is.” He threw his arms wide and turned. “Look at me.”

  “I am. I have been.” She strolled closer and laid her hands upon his abdomen. “I’ve come to realize I like large men. You, specifically.”

  Her appreciation sent a rush of blood to his cock and he caught her wrist. “Everything about me is large. Too large.”

  He laid her palm over his aching length.

  Her eyes widened impossibly and then she looked down. “Oh my.”

  He waited for her stammered retreat and leave to go. Instead, her fingers curved around his length, still contained by his trousers, and she squeezed. “I see” Her voice came out unsteadily and then she stroked down his length with the edge of her thumb and back up.

  A virgin should be quite rightly terrified of his condition. As a young man he’d been compared to a bull and it was true. Iris, however, continued to explore his proportion through the barrier of his clothes without too much shock. His cock grew heavier with every move of her hand until he was panting, hard, and desperate to ease the pain of his confinement. “Stop. Please.”

  Her gaze darted to his then she pressed her head to his chest. “Touching you makes me ache again.”

  Her admission of renewed arousal stunned him. There were not many women who expressed their desire so honestly. He stood immobile for a moment then swept her back up into his arms and carried her to the chair. This time he held her in his arms and worked to bring her pleasure. He kissed her and teased her and slid the tip of one finger inside her entrance. Heaven and hell. Iris was tight but wet from arousal. Her lips parted as her inner walls clenched his digit and she lifted her face to be kissed.

  As had happened before, Martin lost himself in the kiss, his finger lightly teasing her until she climaxed, sobbing against his lips without any hint of embarrassment or feigned interest.

  For himself, he was fit to explode at a moment’s notice from the slightest provocation. He kissed her brow and tugged her skirts over her knees a few long minutes until he’d regained control and accepted he had but one choice.

  He would not make her his mistress, he couldn’t disrespect her that way, but he would give her more than anyone else wanted to. He would marry her. “I’ll have the contracts drawn up immediately.”

  Nine

  When Iris entered Lord Windermere’s home at Esme’s side, she wondered if she really could avoid carrying out Talbot’s wishes to aid him tonight. She was a mistress, or would be if Lord Louth’s contract had been delivered as promised. She had not seen him for several days but he had sent flowers each morning and had promised to meet her here later tonight.

  “You will break your neck in a moment looking for him,” Esme teased. Although her friend was not happy about Louth’s disappearance, she was not surprised by their arrangement. Esme had not even chided her for spending time alone with him in the dining room, though she hoped her friend had no idea of what they’d done there together on the mahogany setting.

  She fluttered her fan to stir the air as her cheeks heated. “He said he would attend but I don’t see him anywhere.”

  Esme huffed. “Well, I’m sure he will come as soon as he can. Let us find Lady Ames and then secure a glass of punch for us both.”

  Iris glanced at Esme swiftly. “Punch?”

  “Oh, do be quiet. I’m not feeling in the best spirits tonight. These robberies are hell on my nerves and I worry for Meriwether.”

  Concerned too, Iris linked their arms. She couldn’t wait to be Louth’s mistress and have an end to this dangerous game. She had so many questions to ask of him later. Where would she live, how soon could she leave London for a safer life far away from Talbot? “Lady Ames is standing to the left of the hearth with our host and Lady Bartlett.”

  A grimace passed over Esme’s face at the mention of Lady Bartlett and she scanned the room. “Perhaps we should have champagne to soften the impact of that woman’s gloating,” Esme murmured, changing her mind about refreshments.

  Iris glanced ahead. Lady Bartlett was standing very close to Lord Windermere’s side. “Has he proposed?”

  “I do hope not.”

  The man seemed unperturbed by Lady Bartlett’s proximity and Iris grew confused. “I thought you liked her.”

  “I did, but that was before I discovered my sense of fair play extends in unexpected directions.” Esme snagged a glass of champagne from a waiter and sipped slowly. She glanced at the glass in her hand, her frown returning. “One can always expect the best from Windermere. ’Tis a shame such sentiments are not returned.”

  “Esme, I truly don’t understand, and if you keep throwing out hints without answers I’ll become cross with you.” Iris stared hard at her friend. “Do you know something scandalous about our host?”

  Esme passed her glass back to a servant and then cupped Iris’s cheek. “I am concerned by some sensitive information that fell into my lap earlier today. However, this is not the place to discuss what should not be overheard. Do forgive me.”

  Curious about what Esme’s information might be and what she would not say, Iris trailed along and closely observed Lady Bartlett as they met. It was not like Esme to become so stirred up by gossip that did not concern her. It must be truly awful. Lady Bartlett beamed at Esme and spoke warmly to everyone, though Esme and Lady Ames were both reserved in their responses. Windermere said little but his eyes lingered on Lady Bartlett often while she spoke, so perhaps Esme was worried for no reason.

  Lady Ames turned to Esme. “I was just telling Lady Bartlett of a scandal in the making. A most dangerous and foolhardy scheme indeed. As you know, the society thief is leaving a trail of terror in his wake but I am told there was another foiled scheme of that ilk to replace the marble statue in the square with a replica of painted pine.”

  Iris frowned. “Why would anyone do that?”

  “Why, for the money of course,” Esme murmured. “There is a lot of money to be made in forgeries, as there is in gems.”

  Windermere cut in, “To those who choose to only look upon the surface, they might not have detected the scheme. However, it would take a lot to fool those with taste. One would only have to set their hand to the surface to know what was underneath.”

  “I do think you’re wise,” Esme agreed with a warm smile for Windermere. “A man should be sure to know what he’s getting in any bargain.”

  Windermere appeared startled by Esme’s support, but then his attention diverted to a spot beyond Lady Ames. “Do excuse me, I am needed elsewhere.”

  He kissed Lady Bartlett’s hand and hurried off. The viscountess watched after him with a small smile tugging her lips. When Iris glanced at Lady Ames and Esme, however, they were not smiling. In fact, they both appeared furious.

  Iris touched Lady Ames’s arm, keen to find out more. “How did the scheme come to be exposed?”

  “An excellent question, my dear,” she said. “It seems when you do scratch beneath the surface, lift the barriers as it were, the lack of quality is clearly evident. All it took was only the barest investigation for the plan to come undone.”

  “What happened to the statue?”

  Esme smiled sadly. “I’ve suggested it be sent to Windermere.”

  “What would he want with an imitation?” Lady Bartlett asked, frowning.

  “My thoughts exactly.” Esme scowled. “Perhaps he will find the situation pertinent, considering the
scheme you’re currently attempting on him.”

  Lady Bartlett froze like a wounded doe in a hunter’s sights. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Do excuse me, I see Lady Hazelton has come.”

  The viscountess rushed off as Lady Ames beamed. “I think that went quite well.”

  “True.” Esme frowned. “Still, I fear he must be told outright before he gets swept up in it all.”

  “Foolish man.” Lady Ames sighed heavily and caught Iris’s arm. “I’ve never met a Hill who knew what was good for them.”

  “Oh,” Iris whispered, finally catching on. Lady Bartlett was hatching some scheme to fool Lord Windermere out of something important, most likely in a bid to become his wife.

  Esme met her gaze sadly. “I wish he was as clever as you.”

  Iris allowed Lady Ames to move her away from Esme and withheld her questions for later. Lady Ames led her to a group of young women closer to her own age. “Ladies,” she began. “Are you acquainted with my dear friend, Miss Hedley?”

  Several nodded and introductions procured with the rest. A few looked upon her with a slight frown but she ignored their hesitant welcome. Very soon the chatter turned to the robberies. “I simply cannot believe I’ve attended every ball where a robbery has occurred,” Miss Beasley said with widened eyes. She pressed her gloved hand over the necklace she wore. “It’s almost certain I must have passed the thief.”

  “As has everyone else,” Lady Ames reminded them all with a smile. “Try not to worry. The culprits are only after gems kept under lock and key, not gems openly worn.”

  “But how do they find out where the gems are kept, is what I want to know?” Miss Beasley exclaimed loudly. “They must walk among us.”

  “Or employ spies,” Calliope Quartermane, a shy young woman, added quietly. Her gaze landed on Iris. “What do you think, Miss Hedley?”

  Although afraid of giving herself away, Iris nodded. “That is a possibility.”

  All eyes turned to stare at the other guests. “We shall have to watch everyone,” Miss Beasley decided, her eyes narrowing on a passing gentleman. “Tomorrow, we shall gather at my home and compare notes. You will come too of course, Miss Hedley.”