Seducing the Regency Dom Read online

  "Or let us be coerced into a compromising position," Susanna added, annoyed she had to miss an opportunity to increase his interest. Remember, slowly…slowly is best. "I know my Mama. She'd do anything to stop herself losing face, even throwing me to the shar…oh my lord, that was rude." Damn. I bet my face is as red as my hair.

  To her relief, Tony laughed. "Or that. Rest assured, I've bested better people than either of our Mamas. We will not be forced into anything we don't wish for."

  Was that relief or regret that filled her? Susanna hardened her resolve: she had a plan, and intended to stick to it. She wanted, no needed, more than a purely ‘wedded, bedded, and forgotten’ partnership, be it in holy wedlock or not. That was, after all, the reason for her machinations.

  "Then I thank you. I will of course act as if I've never met you when we're introduced." Susanna curtsied and then stood up. As she walked back to the chaise, he overtook her and picked up her disguise. He held it between his forefinger and thumb and waved it from one side. "A pretty frippery."

  "A necessity," Susanna said in as firm a tone as she could muster. "May I have it back, please?"

  To her dismay he put it inside his waistcoat, and shook his head. "No. I told you, the only mask you'll wear in my presence is one to un-sight you. If we are together for any length of time, you'll realize I never say things I don't mean."

  Excitement and dismay played games in her tummy, warring to see who rose to the top. She couldn't decide. It seemed what she had read was true, and she wished she could experience it herself. One day.

  "Then how do I get home unnoticed? I may not live far away, but this is a fashionable crescent, and I often think the occupants have nothing better to do than report on the movements of others," she said in a bitter tone.

  He grinned. It transformed his face, and made him appear years younger, and carefree. The way the corners of his eyes creased gave the twinkle in them a wicked gleam. "True, but then they have mundane lives and nothing better to do." He pulled her hood around her face and held the sides together. "Are you certain we wouldn't suit? You seem to have more spine than anyone else I've met. Or do you have a secret tendre you hope will be reciprocated one day?"

  Susanna honed in on his query. "Yes, my lord, that's it exactly. I have someone I want to be with." Unless things worked out as she planned, he'd never know at just whom that tendre was directed.

  "Pity. I feel we would be well matched."

  "You promised." She did her best to keep the desperation out of her voice. "You said you never go back on your word."

  "Nor do I," he said, his tone regretful. "However, I didn't say I wouldn't touch you. Or on reflection, try to get you to change your mind."

  Before Susanna had time to react he pulled her tight against his body. His breath stirred the hairs on her neck as he nibbled the nape. The tiny nips and stings sent a swift bolt of excitement through her body to her clit. She moaned as her juices collected at the apex of her thighs, and he rightly took the noise as a sign of assent.

  "Do you know what I'd like to do with you? To coat you in intricate patterns of wax. To tie you, un-sight you and show you the joys of bondage and spanking. To introduce you to the delights that are more, so much more than most people ever think can be achieved. I feel you would be a willing and eager pupil, and I a most ardent teacher." Tony spoke the words softly in her ear, but there was no mistaking their intensity.

  Her arse clasped tightly as he ground his cock into her quim, and Susanna did nothing to stop him. She might as well get one tiny glimpse of his mastery before she said enough. His words had her body tight with arousal. Her clitoris stung with the need to be touched, as her juices gathered and coated her nether curls. With great daring, Susanna bent her head to allow him greater access to the uncovered skin, and ran her hand over the fine wool of his jacket.

  "Minx." His voice was slurred. "If you do that, I…" What he was going to say, she didn't find out. With a groan that sounded tortured, Tony lifted his head, and moved back a pace. He ran his hand through his hair, and mussed the once ordered curls. She was pleased to see that his hand trembled. He wasn't as in control as he hoped to portray.

  "My lady, I believe I owe you an apology."

  Susanna licked her lips. "Really? Such a pity, because I was going to thank you, and ask what came next." As an exit note, Susanna felt it couldn't be bettered. Except she couldn't exit, and had to stand while a grin split his face and he laughed out loud.

  "Xiao Māo, I wish I hadn't made that promise. Any time you wish me to renege, please tell me. Not necessarily offering for you, but perhaps a little dalliance? My candles are ready and waiting to be used on a willing body, and my cock is primed."

  "No, I thank you and no. I," she hesitated, "I am pure now, and at this moment have no intention of altering that state." At this moment. "My husband will want only me, and I him."

  "We could of course indulge in dalliances and still leave you for all intents and purposes, pure."

  She shook her head. "Sadly, the answer must still be no. And what did you call me?"

  "Xiao Māo? It's Chinese for kitten. It's what I would call you if you let me be your Master."

  He bowed and swept her out of the room, across the back hallway, through the gardens and along the mews to her home.

  Chapter Three

  "Mama, no more." Tony waved his quizzing glass in the direction of a gaggle of innocents who twitted and blushed every time any eligible gentleman so much as glanced in their direction. His visitor from that afternoon, he noted, was not one of them. Idly he wondered where she was.

  "What do you mean?" His mother pulled herself up to her full height of around five foot three, and glared at him. "Explain that remark."

  Tony had never understood what 'to bristle' meant until he returned from his travels and refused to fall in with his mother's wishes. Now he understood full well. She did it magnificently.

  As then.

  "I mean, Mama, if you persist in parading this procession of idiots who would bore me within five minutes, and shrivel my cock and ballocks into indifferent passivity, I will travel once more." The dowager's outraged hiss made him laugh.

  "Mama, I love you dearly, but even you admitted your marriage was an unhappy charade. Knowing my father, I can see why. I give thanks every day I haven't inherited his traits and ideals. Apart from that, do not try to tell me that Spencer Tarporley is merely a beau without benefits, because I wouldn't believe you."

  "Tony, I, you, Spen, oh where are my smelling salts." She fluttered her hands around like a demented hen would flap its wings. Tony pinched her chin and laughed. "Ah, Mama, be honest. Do you really want me to have one of those chits to rule the roost? To be a role model for Emmaline and Charlotte?"

  "Well, no, not really," Honoria Sentern confessed. "However, Tony, I thought it best so you could do as you wanted and not upset anyone."

  Good grief, I hope that doesn’t mean she knows of my proclivities? Or she has enjoyed such things... Wrongly or not, the thought of his mother as a subservient didn't sit well. She was his mother. As for a Dominant? A less assertive person he had yet to meet. Tony was well aware of the double standard he applied, but some things were best not even thought about. But then, Spencer Tarporley did have somewhat of a reputation when younger. Before Tony had time to assimilate those thoughts, his mother spoke once more.

  "I felt it best you marry, get the heir, and go your own way without false promises. I know you better than you think, Tony, and there are few women who would satisfy all you need. Now, no more. I promise not to interfere, and will bring no more debutants to your attention. However, I cannot answer for others."

  He noticed she only mentioned debutants, not young ladies almost at the back of the shelf. He let it slide as a matron in a shocking purple and pink turban marched—there was no other word for it—in their direction. She had a determined gleam in her eye and a blushing blonde in tow.

  "I'm for the games room." He turned on h
is heel and walked away, leaving his flustered mother to greet the newcomers. A few games of dice and some brandy would go a long way to restore his equanimity.

  He didn’t get that far. Pinkerton, his Mama's butler, stopped him as he exited the ballroom.

  "Your grace?"

  Tony sighed. That title was one he still thought of as his father's, not his. However, his it was, and he had to get used to it. Besides which, Pinkerton was a favorite. He'd dandied Tony on his knee as a babe, patched his scrapes as a youth, and held his head as a drunken graduate. Helped his sisters fend off unwanted admirers and been there for his mother when his father died and Tony himself was trying to get a passage home. In short, Tony would do anything for Pinkerton and vice versa.

  "Why the long face, Pink?" Tony used the nickname without thought. "Mama's ball is a success. The girls are dancing their slippers off, and I'm about to go into hiding."

  "I think you'd better, your grace, though not here. There's one guest and her horse-faced daughter loitering in the library, the Harrison woman and her giggling twins in the small salon, and Endymion Stanley waiting in the games room, to beg for a loan or ask you to take his daughter off his hands." He spoke in a confident and confiding manner, and Tony appreciated it.

  "Damnation. So where shall I go? Home?"

  Pinkerton chuckled. "Not if you want your mother to continue to speak to you. May I suggest you let me announce supper? And escort one of your Mama's cronies in? You could leave without shame afterward."

  "Pink, you're a genius. Let's do it." Tony punched the man's shoulder and grinned. Pinkerton lived up to his nickname and a rosy hue spread over his face. He hurried away in a stately manner, something Tony admired. He waited until the gong sounded then retraced his steps. Once back inside the ballroom, he scanned those people who hadn't yet left to join in the unseemly scramble for the best seats in the supper room.

  His sisters were both escorted by gentlemen he expected to pay him a call before long, to ask permission to pay their addresses to their chosen lady. It felt peculiar that he, as their brother would need to adopt the role of his father and ask the gentlemen their prospects. Even though he knew fine well what each man was worth. On the far side of the room, he saw a particular crony of his mother’s, one he liked. Lady Hesketh was plump, good-natured and good company. She told a bawdy sally without batting an eyelid, and appreciated a risqué joke.

  So far she was alone, and Tony decided to act before his mother did her ‘sweeping all before her’ act and took Lady Hesketh into the supper room along with the other loiterers. He strode toward her, his eyes fixed on his goal and barely acknowledging anyone except with the briefest of salutes. He wasn't going to be foiled now.

  "Ah, Tony." Her ladyship beamed and gave him her hand to kiss. "Why are you over here and not with those young simpering idiots?"

  Her words were so similar to his thoughts, he chuckled. "I prefer you, and your non simpering, non idiocy. May I escort you to supper?"

  She stared at him, and as ever, Tony thought her eyes twinkled and saw deep into his soul. It never bothered him. He liked the woman, and would never do anything to upset her.

  "Well now, how nice. But this time, dear boy, I'm going to have to refuse you. I'm waiting for that old fool Rotherhythe to come out of the card room and escort me. He lost at dice and this is his fate." She bellowed with laughter and her overlarge bosoms heaved under her gown. "The old fool wanted to dice over our marriage. I ask you, Tony, why on earth would I marry again at my age? I prefer my parties and my pugs." Lady Hesketh had a pack of overindulged lap dogs. "Why don’t you take my goddaughter instead? Her Mama is indisposed so I said I'd stand in her stead." She turned her head and waved toward one of the long casement windows that lined the walls of the ballroom. "Susi? Come over here. Sentern is to escort you to supper."

  A strange tingle spread through Tony. His skin itched and he turned his head to watch the lady who appeared from behind the curtain and walked slowly toward them. He'd recognize that hair anywhere.

  "Susi?"

  "Lady Susanna Campion. My goddaughter. Of course she came out whilst you were gallivanting."

  Tony wouldn't call his travels gallivanting, but he let it go. He couldn't take his eyes off the lady who curtsied and gave him a very speaking look.

  "It will be my pleasure," he said.

  If the look Susanna gave him could kill, his Mama would be hunting out her blacks and choosing funeral meats.

  "You promised," she said under her breath as he steered her away from her beaming godmother and toward the supper room.

  "This is neither dancing nor offering for you," Tony pointed out. He ignored her muttered words of, "No. 'Tis much worse than dancing and will be seen as you having intentions." She may be correct, but if he ignored it, so should she.

  "And you would prefer I embarrass your godmother, for whom I may say I have the highest regard, and you?" he asked in an undertone as he gave a brief bow to a scowling matron. "Thus making you a laughing stock? I hope I am too much of a gentleman."

  "Oh glory, I never thought of it like that," she said in an undertone of her own. "And let's get away before Lady Memscott foists Penelope on us. I swear if I'm told once more how sad it is that I haven't taken, I'll take her. By the neck. Now that would cause a scandal. She may have been married at seventeen, but to an aged lothario who did her a service by dying after only a year of marriage. Do you think she bored him to death? Her only thoughts are gowns and bonnets. Oh, and how sad it is I haven't taken. I should have made it two worms down her back when we were at school together, not just one."

  He smothered his laugh, and with a wink, bent to kiss the back of Susanna's hand. "Let's give the miserable old tabby and her catty daughter something else to gossip about." He ignored the outraged gasp from Lady Memscott, and pondered the way his cock stirred when Susanna giggled.

  "She doesn't need ammunition. If she can't find gossip she makes it up. And as I've sunk so low in her estimation it would need a very long rope to pull me up, I don't care."

  The thought of rope and Susanna tweaked his prick again. Tony made a mental note to examine his feelings regarding her and his preferences when he was alone. Now would not be the time for a rampant staff and a need for release. His evening breeches were snugly made to lovingly caress every curve of his body. An erection would show. Tony might get impatient with the niceties of the Ton but polite society was just that: polite. Sporting a long, hard staff didn't conform.

  "Why have you blotted your copy book?" he asked as they left the ballroom and walked past his beaming Mama into a long and strangely deserted corridor. Her look of smug satisfaction sent warning bells ringing. "And my Mama looks like the cat who has just licked out the cream jug." That thought, of licking and cream was yet another one to stir him. I'm going to have to take myself in hand before long if I can't stop reading sex into every blasted word or thought. But her cream on my tongue… He brought his thoughts under control. He hardly knew the girl, so why was he reacting to her in such a way?

  "Oh, because I never seem to care if I don't dance, or if she tries to put me down. I've never worried when Penelope gets up to her catty tricks, and I'm happy with my lot. Or I am as long as I'm not hustled into a marriage of convenience. Not that she knows that, of course. She just sees me as someone who didn’t take and feels sorry for me."

  Susanna stopped walking and turned toward him. Her breasts, scarcely covered under her cream silks, brushed his chest. As she made no reference to it and seemed oblivious to her nipples straining the cloth, Tony decided he would ignore the fact. Or try to. It was difficult when her scent surrounded him, and encouraged his body to misbehave. In his imagination he could see her stretched out on the bed, arms bound, legs spread wide and her denuded cunt bared to his view as he oh so slowly created patterns in wax on her alabaster skin.

  "I only want to be me." Susanna shrugged her shoulders. "Lord, I sound like one of those simpering heroines in a circulating novel. I
assure you the real me is nothing like that." The glint in her eyes, and the curve of her lips showed that. She ran her tongue around her mouth and let the pink tip linger for a second.

  The pictures his mind conjured up, of his mouth on her quim, his tongue teasing her channel and then, her cunt taking and holding his cock, were enough to cause him him to stifle a moan.

  "My lady, if you don't want us to be forced to wed I suggest you take a step back. We might be in a deserted corridor, but if I know one thing, it is that it won't be thus for long. Sadly, for I ache to know what you mean." On cue he heard footsteps.

  Susanna gasped and did as he asked.

  Behind her, Pinkerton appeared and walked toward them. "Your Grace? If you would be so kind, the harpist would like permission to start playing in the supper room. Oh, and I see more guests appearing behind you."

  "Of course." He waited until Pinkerton turned and retraced his steps, presumably to give the agreement to the harpist, and then Tony tucked Susanna's arm in his once more. "Saved by the bell, or rather the harp. I'd bet you a guinea, that’s Lady Hemscott."

  Chapter Four

  He'd been correct in his surmise. As Susanna let her maid brush her hair, she reflected on the strange day she had. Somehow she'd muddled through it, and achieved her aim, but it had been a close run thing at times. Now all she wanted was to go over the events in her mind, and be prepared to report back to Jane the following day. Without Jane, this whole affair, or lack of affair might never have happened. She listened, argued, suggested, and agreed. Thus between the two of them, they had concocted Campaign Come.

  Susanna now realized when they'd conceived the plan, neither had properly thought it through. It was one thing to beg him not to offer for her, another to do her best to engage his interest in her with a greater depth. When she'd turned to him in the corridor, and moved close to him on the pretense of—of what she had no idea— and felt his cock stir against her quim, she'd nearly blurted out her plan. Luckily, the interruption by Pinkerton had stopped her. It was way too soon to admit to any plots or machinations. First she had to intrigue Tony, make him want to discover what she was made of, and feel it was his own idea. It didn't sit easy with her to be so underhanded, but as she said to Jane, needs must. Susanna had no illusions regarding her Mama and Tony's Mama's plans. Those two ladies were unstoppable when set on a course of action. It wasn't Tony she objected to––indeed, he was the only thing that made their machinations palatable. It was what she was told to expect which was objectionable. That if she were to wed Tony, it would be no more than an ‘heir, spare, and stray’ union. There would be no third person in their marriage. Not even—Susanna coughed. Do not even think that way.