Page 21 of Eight for Losing, One for Loving

Chapter 6

Dearest Kitty,

Good heavens! Are you quite certain? I thought he was courting her. From what I understood, he was determined to make her see that he was serious, not the reckless fellow he’s been in the past. It seems a somewhat desperate change in plans.

Are you quite certain the story about Mau is a fabrication? It’s a rather odd story to concoct. Did someone not try something of the sort before?

Do please keep me posted, for I am sat upon thorns now wondering what to do? Should I tell Alice do you think?

I am in no better state of worry over Pip, however, and not half so happy. If only I could find a suitable woman for him. He’s driving me distracted. All these years I have been nagging him to marry, and now he’s doing exactly as I asked and all in his power to find a wife. I ought to be happy, but he’s treating it as a military operation, writing notes of pros and cons, for heaven’s sake! What am I to do with him? His father refuses to get involved any farther than he has done and suggests I leave him to it, but I’m afraid he’s going to make the most dreadful mistake.

―Excerpt of a letter from The Most Hon’ble Matilda Barrington, The Marchioness of Montagu to her friend The Right Hon’ble Kitty Baxter, The Countess of Trevick.

24th June 1850, The Queen’s Head, Wrestlingworth, the Bedfordshire, Cambridgeshire border.

“Like a frightful old maid?” Vi suggested, her voice brittle. “Did you come to your senses, Leo, and realise you ought never to have been so foolish as to show an interest in me?”

Leo stared at her. He felt sure his mouth was hanging open, but he didn’t seem able to do anything about it. From the moment he’d set foot back in the room, he’d been in deep trouble, and it was getting worse by the second. It had taken every ounce of willpower to get to his feet and leave Vi in that delectable pile on the floor. His pulse had been thrumming in his ears so loudly he could not think, his hand unsteady as he’d poured the wine, swallowed an entire glass in two mouthfuls, before pouring another. And then… then she’d been weeping.

Really, it was too much. His nerves were not equipped for such… such…

Vi stood there, glaring at him furiously, yet there was something else in her eyes too, something that looked vulnerable and hurt and that blasted nightgown was giving him far too much information about things he’d dreamed of and imagined far too many times. His willpower frayed, vibrating under the strain, and finally snapped.

Leo lunged for her, hauling her into his arms, his mouth crashing down upon hers like… well, like a madman. He was mad, he decided, concluding that he didn’t much care. Vi gave a startled squeak, which he assumed was the prelude to a slap or a knee in his privates and found himself a little stunned when she simply clung to his coat as if her life depended on it and kissed him back. As kisses went, it was inexpert to say the least. She simply pressed her mouth hard against his. Leo opened his eyes to discover hers screwed shut, an expression of intense concentration on her face, and was struck with a wave of such tenderness he felt quite winded by it.

He pulled back, breaking the kiss, seeing something that might have been panic flare in her eyes.

“Like this,” he told her softly, stroking her cheek as he returned his lips to hers, brushing them gently back and forth and pressing dozens of tiny kisses to her lips. She sighed then, her body softening against his and he felt certain his brain melted in response. Certainly, his next action was foolish in the extreme as he licked her bottom lip and then teased his way inside the crease of her mouth. She opened, uncertain what he wanted, and then gasped as his tongue swept in and he illustrated what it was he needed from her.

She was stiff in his embrace once more for a few tense seconds, and then her arms coiled around his neck and she pressed herself closer, devouring him eagerly and with such enthusiasm Leo’s entire body throbbed with desire. Good God. What had he done? This was Vi. Vi! Violetta Spencer. She wasn’t his mistress, was certainly not a light skirt, and… and…

“Vi—” he rasped, managing that much as her lips left his for a bare second, but they returned again, her tongue questing, sliding against his and her lovely body clung to him. Leo groaned, his arms going around her, hands sliding down her back to grasp her splendid behind and— “No!” He let go of her so abruptly she staggered, and he was forced to reach out a hand and steady her.

She blinked at him, her eyes glassy with desire, her cheeks flushed, mouth reddened and lush and… Leo turned his back, putting distance between them and running an unsteady hand through his hair.

“No?” she repeated, sounding somewhat dazed.

Leo shook his head, not yet ready to trust his voice.

There was a taut silence that stretched on so long he found he had to turn and look at her. He immediately wished he had not, as he regarded Vi, shivering and clutching her arms about herself. She looked smaller somehow, fragile and uncertain, not the magnificent, sensual creature who had just kissed him so passionately.

“Vi,” he began, but she just held up her hand, shaking her head.

“No explanations required,” she said, her voice faint. “I—I beg your pardon, Leo.”

What?What the devil was she apologising for? He was the one who ought to be on his knees begging for forgiveness for his appalling behaviour.

“Whatever for?” he asked, bewildered.

“For… For vexing you so that you… and then… taking advantage of the situation,” she said, her cheeks blazing with shame.

“Taking advantage,” he repeated uncertainly, wondering if the events of the day had been too much for her too. Perhaps she was going down with something. It had been rather hot. Heat stroke?

She nodded sadly. “It… It was not well done of me.”

“It wasn’t?” he asked, frowning in confusion. “But I kissed you, Vi.”

“I know, but I was driving you distracted. You just wanted to teach me a lesson, I suppose, but I… I wanted… and so…”