“I am happy to be here with you, but there are times I am not entirely certain I am not dreaming. I am a simple country girl, with sometimes big notions, but none lofty enough to dine with dukes and duchesses.”
“There will be earls and countesses as well.”
“Oliver!”
“Just be yourself, Lily, and all will be well. I promise if you feel any discomfort, I will whisk you away immediately.”
“Thank you,” she said softly, breathing in his wonderful male scent and trying to feel confident about attending the dinner party. One that would possibly bring regret to his heart at having her at his side, for surely now he would see how wholly unsuited she was for his world and end their affair before it had truly begun.
Chapter Fourteen
A laugh pulsed from Lily’s throat, and she tipped back her head, the graceful length of her throat on delightful display. There was no shame in her eyes or demeanor to know that it was evident to all she was his chèr ami.
His Lily glowed, and Oliver had never seen a more beautiful lady. Radbourne had been pleasantly shocked when he recognized her, but he had wisely refrained from commenting. Everyone had been so welcoming that Lily had relaxed, and the dinner party had been filled with lively conversation spanning Prinny’s obsession with war, the struggles of soldiers, the arts, and the opera, and his love had kept pace effortlessly.
Nor did he detect a superiority of manner when his friends conversed with her. Quite the opposite, and ardent admiration was expressed by the duchess over Lily’s dinner gown, which was apparently one of a kind. She wore a stunning ice blue gown of her own creation, with sleek and elegant lines and delicate lace trimmings. Oliver had gifted her with a brilliant sapphire necklace and earrings, which she wore, and Lily had caught her hair in an elegant chignon, with a few red tendrils teasing her cheeks. She looked soft and ravishing, and she was his.
The dinner ended, and the men were to retire to the library for port, and the ladies to the drawing-room. Instead, Oliver excused Lily and himself with a promise to return shortly. They strolled down the hallway, his lover laughing in delight.
“Oh, Oliver, your friends are wonderful. I never imagined it would have been so…so…splendid.”
“You expected monsters, did you?”
The corners of her mouth lifted slightly, and he wanted to kiss that small smile. “More like rogues and scoundrels, and very proper, priggish countesses.”
“My heart is relieved your expectations were exceeded.”
They came upon a door, and he opened it, allowing her to precede him inside. A hearty fire burned in the grate, and several candles were lit, washing the large drawing room with a warm, inviting glow.
“Do you trust me?”
“Oh yes,” she murmured, giving a sweetly sensual smile.
He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and withdrew a slim leather book and handed it to her.
“My diary!”
“I’ve marked a page, will you read it?”
She shot him a quizzical smile but removed the bookmark. “Dearest Diary, I like watching others be intimate. Sever
al nights I’ve touched myself to the memory of Lord R licking along Lady W’s wet quim.” She stopped, cleared her throat, then continued. “There is a dark need in me for men…and even women to see me naked. Would they admire my plumb curves, would they think I am beautiful, would they crave to taste my snatch, would they hunger to take me?”
His lover closed her diary, clearly unable to continue reading her wanton thoughts.
“Have you read all of it?” she asked huskily.
“Several times. And I want to give you every desire written here,” he murmured tapping the book. “I want to wipe away the shame I feel sometimes in your words. You are beautiful, Lily, inside and out. A woman of carnal heart, and that is never something to ashamed of. I quite admire you, and I want to please you in all ways.”
She flushed a delightful pink. Oliver took the diary and rested it on the chaise. He tugged her to him gently and unpinned her glorious mane of hair, spreading it across her shoulders and décolletage. Lily’s eyes darkened with anticipation, but when she lifted her beguiling mouth to his, instead of kissing her as her entreaty demanded, he dropped to knees.
She quivered. “You did not lock the door.”
“That was deliberate.”
A question flashed in her eyes, and she glanced back as the door opened and the Duke of Basil strolled in with his wife.
Lily jerked and then froze. The duke did not speak as he lowered himself into one of the six chairs artfully arranged in a semi-circle and drew his duchess onto his lap. Their avid stares did not move from Lily and Oliver in the center of the room. The door pushed open once more, and Lord Radbourne and Lady Wimbledon entered and commanded their respective seats.