Pursuing Lord Pascal (Dashing Widows #4)

Chapter Ten

P ascal mounted the shallow steps to Sally Norwood’s door two at a time and brought down the knocker with a resounding crash. The butler opened the door and regarded him impassively. “Good morning, my lord.”

“Lady Mowbray has asked to see me.”

“Her ladyship is in the garden. Allow me to show you the way.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll find her.”

Ignoring the butler’s disapproval, he strode past the man and through Sally’s elegant house, until he reached the morning room with its doors open on the garden. April was the usual mixture of showers and sunshine—today was like the start of summer.

Or perhaps that was just how he felt this morning.

“I believe she’s sitting beside the fountain, my lord.” The butler had moved at a fair clip to keep pace.

“Thank you.” He flashed the man a smile and ran outside and down the path. He’d been to parties here and headed unerringly for the secluded corner where a mossy stone cupid held a dolphin amid the play of waters.

“Pascal.” Amy’s joyous expression as she stood echoed the happiness exploding like fireworks in his heart. He strode up to her, boots crunching on the gravel, and caught her by the shoulders.

“Is it yes?”

Her eyes sparkled with indomitable spirit. “It’s yes.”

“My darling,” he breathed, dragging her into his body for a kiss so hot it threatened to blast him to ash.

Too soon, she pulled free with a shaky laugh. “You gathered a lot from three words.”

He kissed her again, quickly this time. He wanted to kiss her over and over again, until she was panting and trembling. Then he wanted to tumble her onto the grass, and toss her skirts up, and join her on a voyage to paradise.

But he maintained a shred of sense. And thank every angel in heaven, he’d have a chance to answer every fantasy. Soon.

The second sweetest word in the English language after “yes.”

He cradled her head between his hands and studied her piquant face. At last the distance was gone. She looked flushed and delightfully ruffled. “When the three words are ‘come to me,’ I had an inkling what you meant. I’ve passed the test?”

The misty softness in her smile was new. His Amy was inclined to regard him with a skeptical eye. He applauded the change. It made him feel like a king.

“You have. I realized that I no longer doubted you. I was just frightened. That’s no acceptable reason to avoid something.”

He leaned forward and kissed her again. It was a mere three weeks since he’d kissed her, but it felt like three years. “So you’re going to take me like a tonic for the good of your health?”

“Perhaps that’s what you are.”

His laugh was fond. That poignant tenderness was more powerful than ever. During the interminable delay, it had proven an awkward companion. “I promise by the time I’m finished with you, you’ll feel much better.”

“Wicked fellow.” She linked her hands behind his neck.

“I am indeed. And I intend to devote that wickedness to your enjoyment. I’m hoping some wickedness might even rub off on you.”

Her lips quirked. “That’s already happened. I used to be perfectly respectable, devil take you.”

She didn’t sound like she minded too much. He couldn’t help it. He kissed her again. She responded with sizzling enthusiasm, until he could manage only a single word. The question that thundered through every beat of his reckless heart. “When?”

She didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “Not now. Meg and Sally will be home soon from their shopping, and Morwenna is inside writing letters.”

“We could give her something interesting to write about.”

“Too interesting. You need to stop kissing me.”

“Never.” To prove it, he kissed her again. This time he lingered over her lips, relishing how she welcomed him into the honeyed heat of her mouth. By the time he raised his head, they were both gasping for breath.

“When you kiss me, I can’t think.” Arousal clouded her eyes.

“I haven’t been able to think since I met you.” His voice descended into stark sincerity. “You make me so happy.”

“You make me nervous and excited.” She paused. “And happy. I’m sure I should regret this headlong dash into sin.”

“Ah, sin,” he said on a voluptuous sigh.

“You’re incorrigible.” She laughed and pushed him away.

He let her go, content now that he had her promise. “When, when, when?”

She caught his hand. “So impatient.”

“Amy,” he growled. “You’ve teased me enough.”

She drew him down onto the charming stone bench where she’d sat watching the fountain. To his regret, she started to sound sensible again. How he’d loved seeing this clever, practical woman dizzy with excitement.

“It’s not straightforward. We need to be careful. Any scandal will hurt Meg’s chances. The world can’t know she’s sharing a house with Lord Pascal’s mistress.”

He liked the sound of that. He’d like the sound of Lord Pascal’s wife even more, but today he was content to postpone that discussion. “I want you to myself all night.”

Already she was shaking her head. “It’s too risky.”

He sighed. “When did you become adept at intrigue?”

Amy blushed and squeezed his hand. “I’ve…I’ve been thinking of this since our last kiss.”

His laugh expressed astounded delight. “I had no idea. You’ve been so cold, I quite despaired of winning your favor.”

“I’m sorry that I was such a coward.”

“And you didn’t trust me. But you do now. Your consent does me such honor.”

Amy was back to looking misty-eyed. “I couldn’t resist you.”

She was a miracle, and he didn’t deserve her. He sucked in a jagged breath to contain the vast wave of emotion that threatened to choke him. In silent homage, he raised her hand to his lips.

Pascal struggled to restore the lightness. She wasn’t yet ready to hear what lay in his heart. He’d lured her to the threshold of a life together, but only careful handling would coax her across into a permanent place in his future. “So while you were busy tormenting me, you were hatching wanton plans?”

Her smile was tremulous. “I thought perhaps one afternoon…”

“ One afternoon?”

She gave a nervous, excited spurt of laughter. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We usually go driving anyway. Perhaps instead of the park, we go to—”

“Heaven?”

Her breath caught, and her eyes darkened. “I hope so, although I’m so afraid I’ll disappoint you. I’m sure…I’m sure you’re used to more skillful lovers.”

He couldn’t bear to see her crippling doubt creeping back. Catching the back of her neck, he drew her up for another hungry kiss. “I want you, Amy. Only you.”

“And I want you, Pascal.”

He’d waited an eon to hear her say that. He trailed a finger down her cheek, then followed the sensitive nerve down the side of her neck. She shivered in response. There was so much sensuality locked up inside her. He ached to set it free.

Tomorrow…

“You know, given our licentious plans, you should call me Gervaise.”

A soft smile curved her lips, and when his name emerged, it heated his blood like brandy. “Gervaise.”

This time his kiss was gentle, and when he drew away, she clung to his shoulders. He suspected her head was swimming. His balance didn’t feel too sturdy either. “Leave everything to me.”

“I will. I’ll see you tonight for dinner before the Lewis musicale.”

“And will you grant me both waltzes from now on?”

The radiant emotion faded from her lovely face, but it was enough that he’d seen it. She mightn’t be in love with him, but she hovered close. He’d wager his life on it. And Amy Mowbray’s love was a gift he didn’t take lightly.

“I’d like to give you every dance. But it’s not discreet.”

He bit back the retort that if she agreed to marry him, discretion could go to Hades. He’d brought her this far. Surely after sharing her body, she’d take that last step. “I can live with that. Hell, now you’ve said yes, I can live with anything.”

She leaned forward, and this time, she kissed him. Her boldness blasted heat through his veins. The time between now and consummation stretched wider than the Atlantic.

But by God, he had now.

He wrapped his arms around her and draped her across his lap. The brush of her hip across his swollen cock set stars exploding behind his eyes.

For one moment, she lay softly against him, then she drew back to regard him with heavy eyes. “Gervaise…”

He loved to hear his name on her lips. “Don’t look at me like that, or I won’t go.”

“If you stay, we’ll end up shocking Sally’s gardeners.”

He gave a huff of amusement and stole another kiss before he let her sit up. “I have arrangements to make.”

“And we’ll meet tonight.”

“If you look at me like that, everyone will know what’s in store.”

“I can’t help it. I feel like I’m about to take flight.”

Pascal kissed her hand again, not trusting himself to kiss her lips and retain the will to leave. And he intended to make everything perfect for her. That meant putting some thought into his plans and giving orders to his staff. “Tomorrow we’ll take to the sky. Will you walk me to the back gate? In this state, I don’t want to run into Sally or Meg.”

Amy glanced down at him and blushed. “What about your carriage?”

“The moment I got your note, I dashed over.”

“Not even time to harness your horses?”

“Not one second. And it’s only a ten-minute walk. That I did in five.”

He’d been hard put not to run, but while she was his mistress, not his wife, he intended to shield her name. She was the next Lady Pascal, even if she hadn’t yet admitted it. On their wedding day, he wanted her to hold her head high.

Pray God, that wasn’t far away.

“Oh, Gervaise…” she sighed and tumbled into his arms again.

It was considerably later when she let him out the back gate with a kiss and a whispered promise of tomorrow.