“Do you know, I once saw you leading a flock of peacocks about the palace grounds. You certainly looked like an empress.”
She waved a dismissive hand. “Peacocks, bah. I would rather have twenty thousand pounds a year.”
His mouth quirked up. “And so would we all. By any means possible.”
“And what means would those be?” Her tone was barbed. “Men are free to do what they will. A woman is not.”
He studied her intently for a long moment. “Don’t worry so, Susannah.” His tone was kind enough, but she could hear the hypocrisy underneath. “If your dowry is not spent it can be invested in the funds and that will help. You should do very well.”
She raised an inquiring eyebrow. “How well?”
“That remains to be seen,” he said.
Indeed it does, she thought. Carlyle would make a handsome sum if he sold the rubies and sapphires. If they were his. She was no closer to finding that out than when he had walked into the room. His bland assurances were not comforting.
Susannah crossed her legs and swung her foot under the table. Kissing the truth out of him would be nowhere near as satisfying as kicking him.
“But should you wed-”
“I shall never-ow!” She jabbed her fingertip by accident with the needle and a tiny drop of blood welled up. Susannah put her finger in her mouth and sucked before she thought of what she must look like.
“How do you know?” Carlyle’s eyes shone with amusement. “Should I ring the maid for a sticking-plaster?” he inquired. “You would not want a bloodstain, however small, on your best corset.”
At long last they had come back to the corset. Good. But her finger was throbbing. It was amazing how much a little sting could hurt.
“No,” she said at last, removing her finger from her mouth. A childish cure but it had worked. There was no more blood. His last statement piqued her. “How do you know that it is my best corset? Have you seen the others? Have you been skulking about my boudoir?”
He looked uneasy, which pleased her very much.
“Certainly not. But this corset is a very fine one, perhaps one of the most beautiful I have ever seen.” He was talking fast. “The embroidery is unique and-”
“It sounds like you have made a thorough study of the subject of corsets,” she said, a distinct edge in her voice.
“No, not really. Of course, one is much like another. It all depends on what’s inside them.” He gave her a smooth smile.
She gave him a narrow look in return. He was not to be trusted. She ought not to care. But she did.
And why is that? she asked herself, supplying an annoying but astute reply in an instant: Because you used to trust him. And you hoped he cared for you.
But those days were gone forever and she had changed. She was no longer a giddy, sheltered girl half in love with a dashing officer. She was a woman who had to make her own way in a cold and unfriendly metropolis, because the dashing officer was looking out only for himself. The corset in question-hers-had contained a small fortune in gems of uncertain provenance-his.
She amended the thought, but only to be realistic. Being fair had nothing to do with it. The gems were probably his. She still didn’t know for certain.
It occurred to her that his very coolness gave away his guilt. Staying silent, she folded the corset lengthwise. His smooth smile faded away.
Susannah had a sinking feeling she was about to be bested at a cat-and-mouse game. If Carlyle Jameson knew anything about the gems she’d found, he wasn’t going to confess.
They had talked at cross-purposes, and she felt deeply irritated. More with herself than him, however. She had bungled a heaven-sent opportunity to find out who’d hidden the rubies and sapphires. But then he had taken her unawares. Still, he could not have known she would be here, sewing away on the corset.
He glanced again at the corset she clutched. “Put it away. A lady keeps such things well hidden.”
Susannah glared at him. “Are you saying that I am not a lady?”
“Not quite.”
“Oh! You are insufferable!”
Furious with herself for seeming interested in what he thought, she gave a sharp shake of her head and her hair tumbled down. Susannah let it alone. Pinning it back up would mean looking for the hairpins on the carpet and that would mean bending down and he might very well interpret that as some sort of surrender.
Her agitation made her breath come faster. She parted her lips to speak but could think of nothing at all to say.
His eyes widened for a fraction of a second. “I was only teasing you, Susannah. I meant that you are young yet, and not quite a lady. But…may I say that you are lovely?”
What blather. And how humiliating. Mrs. Posey was probably feigning sleep and listening to every ridiculous word. Susannah rose swiftly, clutching the folded corset within the folds of her gown. “Go to the devil!”
He stood up very quickly. Susannah flung the corset at him. He caught it with one hand, tossed it aside, and backed her into a corner by the window where the sleeping chaperone could not see them if she awoke.
He was too fast to fight off and in an instant Carlyle silenced her with a kiss. It was not a brief one. His lips were inexpressibly tender, and the sensation of being swept off her feet and held in such strong arms was a thrill. His powerful thighs pressed against her and her body arched into his.
Instinctively-she had no other word for the shamelessness of it-she pressed her soft breasts against a linen-clad chest that was hard and warm, feeling her hard nipples grow harder still. Susannah slipped one hand over his heart without thinking, feeling it beat faster while she permitted him every liberty that a kiss had to offer.
He caressed her back, then slid both big hands down over her hips and bottom, pulling her closer still to him. Still kissing him back, Susannah struggled not to moan. She was entirely bare under the gown and he seemed well aware of it, handling her with very masculine skill. The sheer pleasure of it was nearly too much for her. Scared but wildly curious, she reached around to feel his hard buttocks. Oh, no. He was rigid. She moved her hands up quickly to his waist and felt those muscles tighten.
And all the while his mouth was on hers. So that is a kiss, she thought dazedly, when he broke it off and held her head close to his shoulder, stroking her tumbled hair. He bent to her, rubbing his head against hers like a huge cat.
No-no. It wasn’t a kiss. It was his kiss.
Confused as she was, Susannah did not suppose that every man kissed in such a way that his partner might well swoon with pleasure.
She put both hands on his chest and pushed him away. Something had changed forever in that magic moment when he had claimed her lips. She belonged to him in some indefinable way that infuriated and frightened and thrilled her beyond measure. Gasping a little, touching a finger to lips swollen by the ardent pressure of his, Susannah backed away from the corner and from him.
Carlyle watched her, a troubled look on his handsome face. He too seemed to be fighting for breath, but he stayed where he was. After a moment, he bent down and picked up the corset. He said but one word as he threw it to her.
“Catch.”
Susannah didn’t even try. She watched the crumpled pink corset unfold as it fell to the floor once more.
Mrs. Posey emitted a wheeze and the folds of flesh around her eyes squinted into wrinkles. But she did not open them, not just yet.
Carlyle took his coat from the chair, taking his time about putting it over his arm. “Thank you for allowing me to share your morning. It has been a very great pleasure.” He coughed. Susannah stared at him incredulously. “I do hope you enjoyed our conversation as I have. Good-bye.”
Susannah clapped a hand to her cheek. How could she have been so foolish-and how could he have done what he did with no resistance from her?
He made a half-bow before she came up with answers to those questions. “I will see myself out.”