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Nigel moved from her waist to fondle her breasts, pinching and twisting at her nipples, heightening her pleasure to unbearable levels. Lost in a haze of lust and desire, Portia reached out and grabbed Donovan’s hand, guiding him to where she wanted him most.
“Faster,” she moaned into the quiet room. “Donovan…”
Donovan obeyed without hesitation and quickened his pace. He plunged his finger in and out of her with more vigor, stroking deep inside of her and driving her closer to the brink of madness.
The Perils of Portia will continue…
21
Thomas stood at his place at the head of the main table in the large dining hall watching as his guests arrived. He’d already escorted his mother in and helped her to her place opposite him at the head table. His guests were beginning to filter into the space, their voices a soft murmur against the clink of crystal and the rustle of silk gowns. The room, bathed in the warm glow of candlelight from the grand chandelier, was set to impress, with its table impeccably laid out in silver and fine china.
It still felt all wrong to be sitting in his father’s place. Normally he was seated next to his mother, on her right side. But he was the earl now, and once he married, his own countess would take his mother’s spot.
How things were changing. Thomas wasn’t sure if he liked it. And he liked even less the fact that he was going to have to confront Viscount Polk this evening over cigars and brandy.
How could he get the viscount alone?
Goodness, such ridiculousness. This was his estate, his house party. If he wanted to speak to the viscount alone, he damned well would.
Cameron entered, Rose on his arm, and behind them, Lady Clementine, Tricia, and her younger sister, Katrina.
Thomas couldn’t keep his eyes off Tricia. Her dinner attire was beautiful. Thomas cared nothing for ladies’ fashion, but Patricia could be a fashion plate herself. She was a vision in a gown of cornflower blue that offset her fair complexion and onyx hair, which was styled elegantly atop her head, adorned with a few delicate pearls. Thomas felt a subtle shift in the air as she entered, or perhaps it was merely within him. Her presence seemed to draw the light, the room momentarily brighter by her smile. She moved with a grace that belied her youth, her gaze meeting his across the room. In that instant, Thomas was acutely aware of a quickening in his chest, a sensation both unfamiliar and exhilarating.
Rose and Cameron were seated at the earl’s table, but Lady Clementine and her daughters were seated at the next table. Thomas watched as Cameron seated Rose and then took his mother and sisters to the other table and got them seated as well.
Lady Clementine sat next to Katrina at one end of the table, while Tricia was seated at the other, between?—
Thomas tried to hide his surprise.
Tricia was seated between Lord Victor Polk and his cousin, Jonathan Jameson.
How odd.
Both Polk and Jameson had danced with her last night.
A dagger of jealousy cut furiously into his heart. Who arranged the seating chart? His mother, of course.
He could ask about it later, but it was too late to do so now. Any disruption would cause a scene, and he did not want that.
He held back his scowl and continued smiling and nodding as his guests were seated.
Footmen scurried about, filling champagne flutes and getting ready to serve the first course.
Once everyone was seated, it was up to Thomas to say something.
There’d been no formal dinner last evening. Everyone had arrived, gone to their chambers, and rested before the ball.
So tonight, he must address his guests. He drew in a breath and clutched his flute of champagne.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, esteemed friends both old and new, it is my profound honor and pleasure to welcome you all to Ashford Estate. We gather tonight not merely to enjoy the sumptuous feast laid before us but also to celebrate the bonds of friendship that bring richness to our lives far beyond what wealth can measure. Of course, we also gather to honor the memory of my esteemed father, Crispin Jameson. May he rest in peace.”
A few of the guests murmured in solemn agreement as he raised his champagne flute. “To your health, happiness, and prosperity—may they grow as abundantly as the ties that bind us tonight. Cheers!”
“Cheers!” echoed through the large dining hall.
Thomas took a seat, and the other gentlemen followed.
He homed his gaze in on Tricia, who, because of where she was seated, was directly in his line of vision.
