kissed a whole line of men and charged them a penny each for the privilege.”
“Beast,” she spat as he strode off toward a group of gentleman revellers on the green. Why could she not have been born into a family who looked out for one another? Other girls of her acquaintance had come from families like that, and they’d all made desirable matches.
Chapter Two
She was the one. She was definitely the one.
Percy Gilling could hardly believe his eyes when he saw her standing beneath the ancient oak tree, her delicate face tilted to the stars, with snowflakes caught on her eyelashes and in the stray wisps of ash-blonde hair that had escaped her fur-trimmed bonnet. She was the loveliest creature he’d ever seen in or out of an empire-style dress, and while he was no rogue, he’d seen a few. She was perfect. Generously proportioned in both the length of her legs and the girth of her hips, she also possessed a beautifully abundant bosom. In fact, everything about her gave the impression of soft, yielding curves and a gloriously giving nature. Well, perhaps everything besides the defiantly stubborn tilt of her sharp little chin.
He wanted to suck upon that chin while her endless legs were wrapped around his middle, and his prick explored the valley between her thighs.
“Perfect, isn’t she,” his cousin, William, Lord Ricborough purred into his ear. “Did I not tell you so?”
“You did.” And Percy had wanted, but not dared to believe it. They’d been searching for so very long now for the right woman, and he’d grown weary of the task. The woman they wanted. The wife Will’s family insisted he needed didn’t exist. How could she? What he and Will shared was considered unnatural and contemptible, asking a lady to not only turn a blind-eye, but to embrace the notion of it was unimaginable. Why they might as well ask her to go and thwart Napoleon single handedly.
Will had turned numerous heads as they’d hunted through England’s many shires. He was dashing and charming with a merry wit and an infectious sense of devilry. He also had a title and twenty thousand a year to offer, but Will didn’t want a wife in name only. He wanted someone who would not only accept his eccentricities, but embrace them. He wanted a woman who would allow him to bring his male lover into their marriage bed and share her with him. Truly such a lady didn’t exist.
At least, Percy hadn’t believed so, until they heard of Miss Marsh’s dramatic fall from grace. They’d both known immediately that she was the one they’d been searching for. A few inquiries had confirmed she was everything they could have hoped, from a good family with proper connections and no undue scandal attached to their name. Well, at least until Miss Marsh’s ignominy.
Introductions to the family had been simple enough, but access to Miss Marsh was rather more difficult to accomplish. Will had managed to foster a friendship with one of her brothers, however, which in turn had led them to an invitation to the Marsh’s annual Christmas ball where they hoped to finally address her and if all went well, Will would speak with her father the following morn.
“She’s not one to be ogling,” Royce, one of the gaggle of beaux Percy was with thumped him on the back, causing him to slosh the contents of the wassailing bowl he’d been supping from over his boots. The scent of hot spiced ale wafted over him. “That’s Tom Marsh’s sister, the one who disgraced herself. Look at her up there, brazenly begging for a kiss. No man’ll kiss her tonight or any other.”
Percy shook the droplets of ale from his gloves and gave a sagely “hmm” although he quite disagreed with Royce. He would happily kiss Miss Marsh, tonight, and every other night if she’d permit him. The fact that she might not be as virginal as new wives were supposed to be didn’t bother him a jot. Better she had a little experience considering what he and Will would be asking of her.
“Beast,” she spat as he strode off toward a group of gentleman revellers on the green. Why could she not have been born into a family who looked out for one another? Other girls of her acquaintance had come from families like that, and they’d all made desirable matches.
Chapter Two
She was the one. She was definitely the one.
Percy Gilling could hardly believe his eyes when he saw her standing beneath the ancient oak tree, her delicate face tilted to the stars, with snowflakes caught on her eyelashes and in the stray wisps of ash-blonde hair that had escaped her fur-trimmed bonnet. She was the loveliest creature he’d ever seen in or out of an empire-style dress, and while he was no rogue, he’d seen a few. She was perfect. Generously proportioned in both the length of her legs and the girth of her hips, she also possessed a beautifully abundant bosom. In fact, everything about her gave the impression of soft, yielding curves and a gloriously giving nature. Well, perhaps everything besides the defiantly stubborn tilt of her sharp little chin.
He wanted to suck upon that chin while her endless legs were wrapped around his middle, and his prick explored the valley between her thighs.
“Perfect, isn’t she,” his cousin, William, Lord Ricborough purred into his ear. “Did I not tell you so?”
“You did.” And Percy had wanted, but not dared to believe it. They’d been searching for so very long now for the right woman, and he’d grown weary of the task. The woman they wanted. The wife Will’s family insisted he needed didn’t exist. How could she? What he and Will shared was considered unnatural and contemptible, asking a lady to not only turn a blind-eye, but to embrace the notion of it was unimaginable. Why they might as well ask her to go and thwart Napoleon single handedly.
Will had turned numerous heads as they’d hunted through England’s many shires. He was dashing and charming with a merry wit and an infectious sense of devilry. He also had a title and twenty thousand a year to offer, but Will didn’t want a wife in name only. He wanted someone who would not only accept his eccentricities, but embrace them. He wanted a woman who would allow him to bring his male lover into their marriage bed and share her with him. Truly such a lady didn’t exist.
At least, Percy hadn’t believed so, until they heard of Miss Marsh’s dramatic fall from grace. They’d both known immediately that she was the one they’d been searching for. A few inquiries had confirmed she was everything they could have hoped, from a good family with proper connections and no undue scandal attached to their name. Well, at least until Miss Marsh’s ignominy.
Introductions to the family had been simple enough, but access to Miss Marsh was rather more difficult to accomplish. Will had managed to foster a friendship with one of her brothers, however, which in turn had led them to an invitation to the Marsh’s annual Christmas ball where they hoped to finally address her and if all went well, Will would speak with her father the following morn.
“She’s not one to be ogling,” Royce, one of the gaggle of beaux Percy was with thumped him on the back, causing him to slosh the contents of the wassailing bowl he’d been supping from over his boots. The scent of hot spiced ale wafted over him. “That’s Tom Marsh’s sister, the one who disgraced herself. Look at her up there, brazenly begging for a kiss. No man’ll kiss her tonight or any other.”
Percy shook the droplets of ale from his gloves and gave a sagely “hmm” although he quite disagreed with Royce. He would happily kiss Miss Marsh, tonight, and every other night if she’d permit him. The fact that she might not be as virginal as new wives were supposed to be didn’t bother him a jot. Better she had a little experience considering what he and Will would be asking of her.
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