"Yes, my lord," she said breathlessly, and allowed him to take her by the elbow and lead her to the door of the inner room.
Rutherford looked at his pocket watch. He would give her five more minutes, he decided. He might have made a tactical error in not taking her himself into the bedchamber and undressing her. It was his usual method. They could have sent for her bag in the morning. However, this case was a little different from the usual. Miss Jessica Moore was a virgin, or his guess was very wide of the mark. He had not had a virgin before and, truth to tell, did not know quite how to go about the matter of bedding her. He had deemed it wise to allow her time to prepare herself and clothe herself in that very virginal nightgown she had worn the night before. Time enough to remove it when they were under the bedcovers and he had warmed her up.
He was feeling unusally agitated himself, Rutherford thought, gazing down ruefully at the glass of wine he held in his hands. His third? Fourth? Of course, he was unaccustomed to awaiting his pleasure. And it was quite out of character for him to engage a mistress. He had done it once several years before and had been forced to endure the female long after inclination had made his visits tedious. It is far easier to begin such a relationship than to break it off, he had found.
His offer to Jessica Moore had been quite impulsive. The whole idea had been conceived and put into effect within one hour. Would he regret it? He did not even know if she would make a satisfactory bedfellow, though his brief exploration half an hour before had revealed a body even more feminine and curvaceous than he had suspected. Certainly tonight might not be an enjoyable experience. She would be nervous, awkward. She would have no idea how to please him. And he might hurt her. But even apart from the all-important sexual aspect of their relationship, would he find her an interesting enough companion to make him want to return to her again and again? He had enjoyed their dinner table conversation, but he realized that he had done almost all the talking.
The trouble was, Rutherford thought, putting his empty glass down on the floor beside him, getting to his feet, and removing his coat and waistcoat, he really had not had much choice but to make her his offer. Jessica, he suspected, did not quite realize how serious her predicament was. He had not exaggerated when he had told her that within a week she would be facing starvation or a life as a street prostitute. He owed her his protection. It was because of him that she had lost her situation with the Barries.
And by God, he admitted, removing his neckcloth and undoing the top buttons of his shirt, he wanted her. Finding a luscious beauty hidden behind the disguise of a little gray mouse was enough to stir any man's senses. He would not feel guilt. He was doing the best he could to look after her. He would treat her well. He always treated his women well in bed, always paid them generously afterward. Jess Moore would live like a lady, and he would provide handsomely for her when he finally tired of her. She would not need ever again to be a gray governess.
She was standing at the foot of the bed when he went into the room, brushing her hair and looking just exactly as she had looked in the Barries' library the night before. Rutherford closed the door behind him and allowed his eyes to roam over her. He expected her to look tense. She gazed calmly back at him and laid the brush down on a stool. He closed the distance between them.
"Have I kept you waiting?" he asked. "You look very beautiful, Jess."
He placed his hands on her shoulders and drew her against him. He lowered his mouth to hers. And immediately began the fight to control his desire. There was no virginal shrinking in her. Although his hands held only her shoulders, her body immediately fitted itself to his from firm, full breasts to knees. He cradled her head with one hand and rested the other against the small of her back. He set himself to ignore the demands of his body while he slowly coaxed her mouth into deeper intimacy.
He waited until his tongue had been allowed full and deep possession of her mouth before moving his hands knowingly over her again and lifting her up to carry her to the bed. She watched him as he undressed and climbed into the bed beside her. He had decided not to snuff the candles before doing so.
He wanted her then. He did not wish to wait another moment. He could not remember when the need to mount a woman's body had been quite so urgent. But she was not ready. She was langarous but not aroused. He set himself to arouse her, unbuttoning her nightgown to the waist so that he might touch her warm flesh, stroke her breasts with expert hands and mouth. He slid the linen of her nightgown up her legs so that he might caress her more intimately. She lay on her back, still, her eyes closed, her breathing quickened, her body tensing, and her heart thumping beneath the hand that moved over her left breast.
Now, he thought at last, lowering his head to kiss her deeply once more before moving his weight onto her so that he might enter her body and finally unleash his passion in her. She was looking at him, shaking her head slightly.
"No," she whispered. "No, I cannot. I am sorry. I cannot."
He brushed her lips softly with his own and willed control on himself again. "Relax," he said. "There is no haste. I can wait for you. I know it is your first time. I want it to be good for you."
"No," she said, and her eyes were big with unshed tears suddenly. "I cannot do this, my lord. I thought I could. I truly did. I have reasoned it out with myself and I can see no great wrong with it under the circumstances. But reason is no good against the moral habits of a lifetime, you see. Please, I must leave. I cannot do this."
Rutherford swung his legs over the edge of the bed and sat up with a jerk. He buried his fingers in his hair, his elbows resting on his knees. God, did she know what she was asking? Did she realize how very nearly impossible it was to grant her request? He willed calmness on his body. His mind would not function while the blood pumped so furiously through him.
"I am sorry," she said again from the bed behind him.
"So am I, Jess," he said. "So am I, believe me."
"It is just that I have been so frightened all day," she said. "I do not know what to do, you see. I do not even know why I am going to London. It is because I have to go somewhere and do something, I suppose."
"Yes," he agreed, hoping through words to drown out his physical agony, "I can understand your predicament. I thought I had offered a solution that would be thoroughly satisfactory to both of us."
"I think it might have been," she said, "if it did not feel so very wrong. And I truly do not know what I am to do now. But I must go to the room allotted to me here."
"There really is another alternative for you, Jess," he said, his thumb and one finger rubbing his eyes, concentrating hard on the activity. "I was too selfish to mention it while I thought there was a chance of the other."
"Oh, what?" she asked. She was sitting up behind him. He dared not turn around. Even if she had buttoned up her nightgown again, her hair would be in voluptuous disarray from the pillow and his playing hands.
"I shall take you to someone," he said, "someone in London who will take care of you on my recommendation."
"A brothel?" she asked in a shocked whisper.
Rutherford felt an unexpected wave of amusement at the idea of his grandmother's very respectable establishment being mistaken for a brothel and his grandmother for a procuress.
"No," he said. "An elderly lady of great influence who will find you genteel employment, Jess, despite the lack of a recommendation from your former employers. Her word will be far more respected than theirs, you may be assured.
"Oh, will you?" she cried with such passionate gratitude that he felt sudden guilt for what he had tried to perpetrate against her, and his desire began finally to come under his control. "How very generous you are, my lord. I must leave here and go to my room." She scrambled off the other side of the bed.