Society's Most Disreputable Gentleman. Julia Justiss

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СКАЧАТЬ short, slim, rounded, coy, sweet, even sharp-tongued, he appreciated them all. Though he prized most, of course, the deep euphoria of the ultimate intimate embrace, he also enjoyed the simple pleasure of feminine company.

      Even with a talkative miss who was chattering her teeth off, Greville could tune out the soft voice and observe instead the rise and fall of a bosom animated by a lively discourse. Caress with his gaze the lady’s smooth skin, sparkling eyes and plump, kissable lips. Trace with his eyes the enticing curve of breast and hip. Breathe in her unique womanly scent.

      Was Miss Neville a chatterer? he wondered, grinning at the notion. Somehow, he didn’t think so. No, Lady Bronning had greeted him in the hall—so Miss Neville must be her father’s hostess and chatelaine of his household. That would explain the proprietary, managing air he’d sensed during his one quick glimpse of her.

      My, how perspicacious he’d become during the last eight months, he thought with rueful humour. Transitioning abruptly from being served to the one doing the serving—with swift and severe penalties for unsatisfactory performance—taught a man with amazing speed how to discern how much authority an individual possessed.

      How much more pleasant to employ that new skill in contemplating a lady! Especially a female as lovely as Miss Neville, Greville thought, running the image of her through his mind again.

      So slender and petite was she, the golden curls of her coiffure would probably fit just under his chin. He could readily imagine pulling her close, filling his nostrils with the sweet fragrance of warm woman and floral perfume. Smoothing one hand around that enticing round of derrière while cupping the plump weight of a breast in the other His palms itched with longing and his long-quiescent member rose stiffly in water, reminding him with a surge of urgency exactly how long he’d been without a woman.

      Pleased as he was at this evidence that his body was finally recovering, still it would be best not to let his thoughts drift in this direction. Though in the past he’d not been above seducing a willing miss, this particular miss was gently born and his host’s daughter to boot. He didn’t debauch innocents.

      Well, not often. And anyway, that part of his life was over. The new Greville, the better Greville he’d promised the Lord to become if he survived his time at sea, didn’t intend to indulge in debauchery at all. No, sir.

      Now, if there happened to be a willing widow in the neighbourhood …

      He hardened further at that arousing possibility. Then Greville pulled his clean, refreshed body out of the rapidly chilling water. Wrapping a towel about his naked hips, he took a few experimental turns about the chamber.

      He could feel a pull to his wound as he paced, as though the lacerated muscles of his chest were somehow directly connected to his legs, but the discomfort was not as severe as the last time he’d attempted walking. Pausing in the strong light before the window, he inspected the cutlass slash, deep across his ribs where the ship’s surgeon had stitched the edges together, shallower where the weapon’s tip had caught his arm. The wound hadn’t stung when he immersed it in water, he realised suddenly. Thank the Lord, it must finally have closed completely.

      The stitched edges were still a deep pink, but no longer fiery red and pulsing with torment. He’d put on more of the salve the ship’s surgeon had sent with him and had Luke help him bind it up again, but more to keep his garments from rubbing it this time than from a need to protect his clothing from its suppuration.

      He moved from the window and took two turns about the room. He felt weak and light-headed—not surprising after having been fevered and confined to a hammock or cot for so long—but the knee he’d wrenched after he’d gone down in the fight was much improved, causing him barely to limp. All in all, he felt a sense of renewed vigour he’d not experienced in all the dark days since leaving England.

      Stopping by the chair where Luke had deposited the trunk of clothes sent by his sister Joanna, he opened it and inspected the contents. The garments were new and of good quality, but hardly fashionable. As he removed each one and shook it out, he found himself grinning again.

      Greville Anders had been famed since Cambridge for his sartorial flair. Possessed of impeccable taste, he sported the finest inexpressibles, wore immaculate linen and knotted the most complicated cravats at the neck of beautifully tailored coats that fit him like a second skin.

      A year ago, he would have rejected everything in the chest with a disdainful sniff. But after months garbed in the cast-off gear from the sea trunks of deceased sailors, he’d become much less finicky.

      And much more appreciative, he thought, sending his absent sister a mental thanks. Without Joanna’s intervention, he’d have been forced to put back on the soiled, bloodstained tatters he’d worn off the ship, he thought, grimacing with distaste.

      It was only then that he noticed the small pouch at the bottom of the chest. Snatching it up, he opened the loop to find winking back at him a small cache of coins: pence, shillings, pounds, even a few golden guineas.

      Swallowing hard at such unexpected largesse, he vowed to send his sister a written note of thanks as soon as he could obtain pen and paper. Of course, he’d arrived here penniless, possessing not even the few coins the servants would expect as the vails normally given by a guest. The service that could be expected by one who neglected to bestow such small tokens of appreciation would be dismal—and the respect he was accorded even less.

      Filled with a renewed appreciation for his sister, he slipped into the small clothes, breeches and shirt, then rang for Luke. Though he was reasonably sure he could put on the coat without assistance—one benefit of wearing one that did not fit like a second skin—he’d have to wait until after his shave to don it, and tying the cravat was problematic. He feared his left arm would still be too tender to lift high enough to manage it.

      Luke arrived a moment later. Though Greville had been initially dubious about the servant’s claim of expertise, the footman showed himself to be quite skilled with both razor and scissors and possessed a deft hand with the cravat.

      When he complimented the man, Luke told him he hoped to be a valet some day, and cast him a lingering glance, as if implying he thought Greville might be able to assist him in that desire.

      Might he? Greville wondered. His immediate goals not extending beyond mastering stairs and having the stamina to walk further than three circuits about the room, he wasn’t sure yet what the future would hold for himself, much less for the ambitious Luke.

      The first step towards that discovery couldn’t be taken until after he presented himself to the Coastal Brigade office. Though he intended to make an appearance downstairs in the parlour today, he knew he wasn’t recovered enough to tolerate a several-mile jolting drive.

      Luke offered him a mirror so he might inspect his new haircut in the glass. His reflection when he first glanced into a mirror before his bath had shocked him so much he marvelled that Lord Bronning had not taken one look at him and immediately had the coachman heave him back into the coach and spring the horses, dispensing with rubbish as quickly as the cook’s assistant tossing the crew’s refuse overboard.

      Looking at himself now, he could not help being pleased at the improvement. Oh, he was still but a shadow of his former handsome self, he thought wryly. But with the beard gone, his auburn hair washed and trimmed, and wearing the clothing Joanna had sent, loose on his emaciated tall frame but quite respectable, he looked much more the sort of gentleman who might be invited as the guest of a rural baron.

      Another thought struck him then, prompting another rueful smile. A year ago, he would never have СКАЧАТЬ