Shameless - By Annie Stuart Page 0,68

suspiciously. “It’s hardly proper for you to be there with only Rohan as your escort.”

“Of course it is. I’m not a green girl. I’m a widow, and the rules are different.” At least, she was relatively certain they were. “He’ll bring me home—you know how ridiculously protective he is.”

Emma’s eyelids had lowered. “And I wonder why that is.”

“Oh, because he’s madly in love with me,” Melisande said airily. “He can’t bear to be away from me, and he…”

“Is that wishful thinking on your part?”

“God, no! I was simply being facetious. He’s the most controlling creature I’ve ever met. And do you think there’s a chance in this world that he’d be faithful?”

“No.”

The monosyllable stopped her cold for a moment, and then she continued gamely. “He just wants to make certain nothing happens to me while I’m around him. He doesn’t want to be held responsible if I bring the whole of society crashing down, which he seems to think I will.” Melisande pushed her hair away from her face. “Don’t worry, Emma. He’ll keep an eye out to make sure no evil rake takes advantage of me and he’ll see me home safely.”

“Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“Of course,” she said. Believing it. Until she remembered the weight of him, on top of her, between her legs, and the prickling of her skin increased, and the tightness between her legs.

“You know, I find I don’t believe you,” Emma said after a moment. “I believe you’re far too interested in Lord Rohan for reasons that have absolutely nothing to do with the Heavenly Host, and I have to warn you that that can be extremely dangerous.”

“Dangerous? Why? Do you think he’ll try to murder me?”

“I’m sure he’s tempted,” Emma said wryly. “Women love rakes. You haven’t been in society enough to realize it, but a rake is almost irresistible, and I believe you’re on the point of succumbing.”

Melisande looked at her across the tea table for a long moment, then gave in. “Well, in truth,” she said carefully, “I was thinking it might be a good idea to have an affaire with the Viscount Rohan.”

Emma had been pouring, and at that she dropped the teapot with a clatter, splashing hot tea all over the place and breaking one of the delicate china cups. “Hell and damnation,” she said, desperately mopping up tea and milk. And then she looked up. “What did you say?”

“You heard me.” Melisande reached out and took one of the tea-soaked biscuits. “I thought I might have an affaire with Rohan.”

“Are you out of your mind?”

“Don’t be so narrow-minded, Emma. You’ve always insisted that there are real pleasures to be had with a man, and I thought it was past time I discovered what those are. According to the gaggle, Rohan is a particularly gifted man in that department, ensuring even his hired companions enjoy themselves. He seems the logical choice.” She congratulated herself on her practical tone.

Emma stared at her in amazement. “I see… And what made you come up with this idea all of a sudden? Last I had heard you’d sworn off men for the rest of your life.”

Melisande took two more biscuits before they become hopelessly soggy. “Well, I had. But I thought it would make an interesting scientific experiment. I’ve had…relations with my elderly husband, who I adored, and with a young man I thought I loved, and I failed to find any of the messy business enjoyable. Now I’ll try an expert, and if he can’t make it palatable then I expect I’m better off doing without.”

“Is that the only reason?”

Melisande thought of Rohan’s mouth, hot and wet against her, of his hands beneath her skirts, touching her, rousing her, shocking her with that intimate pleasure. She shook her head, as if to shake the thoughts out of her brain. “That’s it.”

“That’s it,” Emma echoed flatly. “I’m not against the idea of you having an affaire, even marrying again. Assuming you found a good man. Viscount Rohan is most definitely not a good man.”

“Well, I didn’t intend to marry him. I just thought I might…shag him.”

“Oh, lord, where did you hear that word?”

“From you. And it seems like a good enough word. I could use tup, I suppose, or even f—”

“Don’t!”

Melisande grinned. “Well, I’m certainly not going to call it making love, since love will have absolutely nothing to do with it.”

“And you think his lordship will be amenable to this? I got the impression he wanted to keep you at

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