A Gentleman's Honor (Bastion Club 2) - Page 54

Geoffrey found him there. He eyed the glass in Tony’s hand. “Don’t tell me you’ve been given your congé, too?”

Tony humphed; through the arch, he was observing the dancers. “Just for this dance.” He sipped, then said, “Incidentally, I was informed you’re being tested.”

It was Geoffrey’s turn to humph. “So I’d supposed.”

Shoulder to shoulder, they watched the couples swirl about the floor.

Geoffrey shifted, lifted his glass, and sipped. He glanced at Tony. “I don’t suppose you’d consider staging a diversion?”

Tony’s gaze was on Alicia, twirling down the set. “Divert the lioness while you whisk away her cub?”

Geoffrey swallowed a laugh, nodded. “Precisely.”

Watching Alicia’s body sway as, hand high, she turned beneath Sir Freddie’s arm, Tony asked, “What’s your interest there?”

Geoffrey’s tone—insulted, a touch vulnerable—gave him his answer more than the words, “What do you think?”

Tony nodded. “Done.” He set down his glass. “But I’ll have to move first. If she gets any inkling of your intention, I’ll never get her away.”

“The field’s yours.” Setting down his glass, Geoffrey followed him into the ballroom. “Just make sure I get at least half an hour.”

Tony glanced at him, then looked back at his prey. And smiled. “Half an hour won’t be any problem.”

Getting Alicia out of the ballroom and into the tiny withdrawing room at the end of the east corridor—a room Tony remembered from that long-ago exploration—was the principal difficulty. He managed it by the simple expedient of talking fast.

His topic was guaranteed to fix her interest—the contrast between sophisticated gentlemen such as Sir Freddie Caudel and backbone-of-the-country types epitomized by Geoffrey Manningham.

“I didn’t know he’d been in the navy.” Alicia looked thoughtful. “I don’t think Adriana knows that.”

“Understandably he doesn’t speak much of it, but he served with distinction. And then, of course—”

He rattled on, borrowing from his knowledge of Geoffrey, inventing shamelessly with regard to Sir Freddie. Her eyes on his face, her mind on his words, Alicia barely registered entering the corridor running alongside the ballroom; when she went to look around, he mentioned Geoffrey’s mother—her gaze immediately swung back to his face. His fingers firmly over hers, resting on his sleeve, he steered her on.

When he opened the door to the withdrawing room, she swept over the threshold of her own volition, held by the vision he’d painted of Geoffrey’s manor house and the surrounding countryside, the rolling fields leading down to the river with the blue hills in the distance, the lowering plateau of Exmoor stretching to the horizon.

Gesturing, she turned to face him. “It sounds an almost idyllic place.”

Much of what he’d described was his own land, his boyhood memories of home; his smile was genuine. “It is.”

He closed the door; without taking his gaze from her face, he snibbed the lock. The sound broke the spell.

She blinked, glanced around. A three-armed candelabrum threw a warm glow through the small room. Aside from a chaise and a single armchair, the only furniture was a small table and a heavy sideboard. She looked at him. Directly. “Why are we here?”

He raised his brows, approached. “Guess.”

Suspicion burgeoned in her eyes; as usual, she made no effort to hide it. He watched her cast about in her mind for some deflecting comment, yet as he neared…her

eyes widened, darkened—he could almost see her senses awakening, stretching. Reaching for him. Could almost see her wits start to slow…

He reached for her, gently drew her to him.

She came without resistance, her hands rising to rest on his chest. Her gaze dropped to his lips. “I…ah…I thought we’d agreed to slow down.”

“We did.” He urged her closer, settled her against him, bent his head. “We are.” He kissed her, made her lips cling. “Progressing step by small step.”

He took her mouth again; she gave it freely, met him, parted her lips, welcomed him in. Her hands clenched, clutched as he captured her senses and drew her deeper into the exchange, into the sensual game they both so enjoyed.

Lips caressed, pressed, tongues tangled, stroked, probed, mouths melded. Both took, gave, delighted, then explored.

Tags: Stephanie Laurens Bastion Club Historical
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