Lucas crossed the room like a sleepwalking man, slow and languidly, as if in a dream. The voice that called out his name dropped to a whimper of pleasure that curled around his body, raising every hair on end.

The sound of splashing water and the heady scent of lavender filled his head. He knew before he crossed the threshold between Edwina’s bedchamber and her dressing room what he would find.

His deepest, darkest fantasy come alive.

The room was lit by a small candelabra that casted long shadows across the woman submerged in the tub. Edwina's hair, black and inky, pooled down her naked chest, between her breasts. From where he stood, Lucas saw the tips of her nipples peeking above the surface of the bath water. Dark and luscious like ripened cherries.

Edwina's head was thrown back against the lip of the tub, her throat exposed, her eyes closed tightly. Lucas stared at the fluttering of her pulse in her neck as a moan escaped from her lips.

One hand dipped below the dark surface of the water. Edwina moaned again, shifting her legs wide until her thighs leaned up against the sides of the tub. The room was too dark for Lucas to see where her hand landed, but it did not take a leap of imagination when Edwina's movements quickened, her right arm sending water over the edge of the tub, splashing the ground below.

"Lucas, oh, Lucas." Lucas's eyes flared wide, every nerve coming alive. His cock tightened, pressing uncomfortably against the fabric of his trousers.

She was thinking of him. Fantasizing about him as she pleasured herself.

Suddenly, she stopped mid-stroke, her eyes flying open. Lucas stood frozen as if believing for a moment that she did not see him, that he did not just bear witness to the most sensual sight he’s ever seen.

Her eyes searched the room as if sensing she was not alone. She gasped out loud when she saw him and blinked her eyes as if amazed to find him present in her dressing room.

Silence descended between them. Lucas's mind frantically searched for a way to apologize, to explain his presence in her room. It was unconscionable to be alone in a room with a lady and this...this was wrong, immoral. Edwina wasn't a lady cloaked in the shadows of the garden outside a ballroom alone with a gentleman. She was nude, in the privacy of her own dressing room, while he, a trespasser, looked on.

Lucas felt the burn of shame crawl up his skin, but no words, no apologies formed on his tongue. His mind was blank.

It was clearly wrong to be here alone with Edwina, but deep-down into the very core of his being, nothing felt more right.

“Don’t stop...please," he begged in a raspy whisper.

Edwina's eyes widened slightly in surprise, but she said nothing. No screams, no accusations.

Instead, she tilted her head slightly as she took him in, considering his request. Lucas swallowed, awaiting her verdict as if he was a man standing at the platform of the gallows with a noose looped around his neck. One slight shake of her head and the trapdoor would be sprung and he would be dead. One nod, and the sweet taste of life, a reprieve, another moment to stay and bask in her presence.

Edwina kept her eyes on him as she opened her legs wide again. She bit her bottom lip, a moment of uncertainty, before her hand began to move.

Lucas exhaled a breath he wasn't aware of holding.

***

Edwina stared at Lucas, her mind not comprehending what her eyes were seeing.

Lucas, here, in her chambers in the middle of the night. Her, in the bath, pleasuring herself with thoughts of him.

An unreal dream. A fantasy come alive.

It is not real, she told herself. Nothing matters except this moment. When you wake, this will mean nothing.

But, she knew she was awake. In dreams, her senses were dull and muted. Now, she felt the warm bath water lapping against her skin with each small movement. She smelled the sweetness of the lavender oil that she infused with her bath. She felt every nerve inflame as Lucas's eyes scoured her naked body.

No, this was no dream.

He begged her to continue, his voice low and thick with desire. Instead of feeling mortified, Edwina felt empowered.

He wanted her.

Edwina watched him watch her as her hand dipped below the surface again. Instead of following the movement, Lucas kept his eyes on her face. His body was tensed tightly like a coiled spring. His hands unconsciously clenching and unclenching at his sides as if he wanted to reach out for her and take her into his arms.

If only he showed less restraint, Edwina thought. If only he would lift her out of the tub and have his wicked way with her.

If only...

Her left hand reached up out of the water and lightly brushed against her lips, her throat, and down to cup her breast. She circled her nipple and heard Lucas groan.

"Yes, just like that. Do whatever pleases you," he whispered.

Edwina's other hand found her sex again, slick and wet and pressed down hard on swollen nub between her folds. A tremor of pleasure raced up her body.

She saw Lucas shudder, mirroring her own pleasure. Both their breaths quickened, filling the air between them.

She writhed in pleasure, displacing the water in the tub over the sides. She watched as Lucas took an unwitting step forward, then another, until he stood above her. Slowly, he lowered himself, stripping off his coat and tossing it aside in one smooth motion.

His eyes never left hers as he rolled up his shirtsleeves.

Edwina stared, mesmerized, at his bare forearms as he knelt behind her just outside of the tub. His hands hovered above her shoulders. She felt his breath on her ear.

It took a moment for Edwina to realize that Lucas was asking permission to touch her.

She took his hands and led them down to her breasts. A tremor passed through his hands when they touched.

They moaned in unison as his hands cupped her breasts firmly. They seemed to fit his hands perfectly as if they were meant for him alone. Edwina shivered with an unspoken need as Lucas gently kneaded her breasts in his palms, his thumbs brushing her nipples until they came into hard points under his attention.

Edwina gasped out in pleasure. Every caress set her skin on fire and sent bolts of unfulfilled lust down to sex. She tried to turn her head towards him. She needed more. She needed his lips on hers, but their position made it impossible.

As if sensing what she wanted, Lucas pressed his lips down the column of her neck. He nibbled on her tender skin, stopping and sucking at a particularly sensitive spot. Edwina moaned, her toes curling at the sensation.

She could wait no longer. Grasping one of his hands, she pushed it below the dark surface of the bathwater until it fell against her sex.

Lucas didn't hesitate as his fingers delved between her folds, rubbing up against her hardened nub. Edwina cried out loud, which only propelled Lucas forward. She felt a single finger, long and thick, enter her, and she ground down hard against his hand.

"God, Edwina," Lucas groaned into her ear. He cursed again, a word so foul that it should have shocked Edwina instead inflaming her further.

He slowed their pace, then increased it until Edwina felt she was on the verge of breaking into two, before he slowed again to a near standstill. She growled out in frustration and felt Lucas smile against her neck.

"Patience."

He inserted another finger slowly, carefully, as if he didn’t wish to hurt her. Edwina gasped aloud at the fullness. He seated his fingers down the knuckle, waited patiently for Edwina to adjust to the new pressure, before moving again, slowly, then with increased intensity. Edwina tilted her hips upwards, taking him deeper, as she thrust into his hand. Bathwater flew over the edge of the tub, drenching the floor below them.

Edwina felt a tightness begin to wind up within her. Lucas increased his pace, matching the tension that wanted to explode from within her.

"Come for me," he whispered, his lips touching her ear, as his thumb flicked across her nub. An electric shock reverberated from her core. Edwina cried out as her body shattered into a million pieces.

***

Lucas's heartbeat thundered in his ears as he watched Edwina come undone. Her eyes closed at the last moment, clenched tightly shut, as her head fell against him. She exhaled a harsh sigh, his name again, as her sex pulsed around his fingers. Even in the dim candlelight, he saw her skin flush, and when she opened her eyes again, they were glazed over with the intensity of her orgasm.

It was a glorious sight to behold.

The room filled with the sound of Edwina's panted gasps, the stilling of the bath water as it settled from the tumult, and Lucas's own ragged breath. The air sawed in and out of his lungs, as if he was a drowning man that finally broke the water’s surface and gasped in his first, life affirming breath.

Edwina turned her head towards him, her eyes wide, her body still and unmoving. It was if she was afraid that any slight movement would break the spell.

It was then that the danger of the moment crashed into him, waking his rational mind. Lucas quickly realized that before him was a gauntlet of temptations.

Edwina, her eyes filled with naked wanting, her body wet from the bath, her snatch slick and ready for him from her recent release. It would be all too easy to lift her from the tub, drop her on her bed, and free himself from his trousers. One thrust and he'd be embedded into her to the hilt, a silky slide into oblivion.

His fingers were still embedded deep inside her covered with the wetness of her recent release.

He was on the verge of tipping over the edge of the cliff, succumbing to the lust that throbbed painfully in his cock.

"Lucas," Edwina said in a near whisper. She blinked as if reality descended on her.

He released her, sloshing more water over the edge of the tub. It did not matter. His waistcoat was soaked through with bathwater. He stood, and visibly winced from the effort as his cock twitched painfully against his trousers, a protest for not taking advantage of the moment to its natural conclusion.

Lucas rubbed the tension from his face and groaned out loud from the effort of peeling his eyes away from Edwina. He was a colossal idiot. What was he thinking coming into Edwina's room in the middle of the night? The lingering effects of the alcohol he consumed evaporated the moment he saw Edwina laying in the tub. He sobered instantly only to be intoxicated by her naked body instead.

He needed to make his escape.

"Lucas. Wait." Edwina called out as he turned away from her and grabbed his coat, thrusting his arms in the sleeves as he went.

Lucas quickened his pace across the room towards the opened window, towards his salvation and away from the claws of temptation. He heard a splash of water as Edwina exited the tub. He gritted his teeth tight. If he caught sight of her fully nude body, he would lose all resolve. From his vantage point behind her in the tub, and the darkness of the room, he saw nothing of the full state of Edwina’s naked body, but he felt it. Felt all the softness of her skin, her pert breasts and hard nipples, and the swollen, silkiness of her sex.

He stumbled over his feet, his hand grabbing the windowsill, steadying himself.

Half his body was through the window before the image of Edwina wrapped in a dressing gown rounding the corner into her bedchamber stopped him cold.

"Wait."

Lucas scrambled over the window ledge. His feet felt unsteady under him as he stepped onto the trellis. He made a few shaky steps down before looking up to find Edwina leaning over the edge of the window, her face dangerously close to his.

Her hair was loose in long, wet strands that framed her face. Her dressing gown was soaked through from her wet body and Lucas could clearly see the hard points of her nipples reacting to the chill in the night air or still aroused from his attentions only minutes before. Her breasts mere inches away from his lips.

“Go back inside. You will catch your death.”

"Not yet," she whispered, her hands reaching out and tentatively touching him. She stroked the edge of his jaw with the pad of her thumb, moving upwards until her palms cupped his face. Her hands felt warm and soft against his skin. Her eyes were large and luminous.

Edwina bent her head until her forehead touched his. Her hair created a curtain around their faces, a private oasis. He took a deep shuddering breath in, relishing in the scent of lavender, of her, and imprinting it in his mind.

Pure heaven.

He opened his eyes as Edwina leaned down and kissed him. Her hands tightened, trapping his face against hers, sending signals of pleasure down Lucas’s spine and straight to his cock. Their tongues intermingled, and though there was still a sense of inexperience in the way she kissed, he was stunned by how quickly she learned from their last encounter. Her tongue parried his at every turn until he felt short of breath.

When she pulled away, Lucas pushed up against the rung of the trellis with every intention of deepening the kiss, following her back into her bedchamber, and showing her the full extent of the pleasure he could give her. But, as he moved, a loud crack resounded below him and suddenly he stood on nothing but air.

The trellis below his feet gave way from his extra weight and Lucas had only seconds to brace himself for the impact of the rapidly approaching ground. A sharp pain reverberated through him as his body slammed into the earth and what felt like a ton of wisteria and vines crashed on top of him.

Lucas laid there stunned.

He fell. He actually fell.

Two stories, about seven meters. His mind raced through the calculations. Twenty feet, by American standards. The length of four grown men.

At least he did not break his head.

He pulled himself free from the wreckage as he heard voices shout out in alarm. Light flickered on behind the dark windows of Bridgerton House and Lucas knew he had only seconds to escape before being caught. It would be impossible to explain his presence. They would think him a thief. Or, worse, still with a raging cockstand that defied all at the moment, a pervert.

Lucas scrambled to his feet just as the voices rounded the corner and he hurried past the unguarded side of the house until he found the main street again. Limping, he half ran, half walked the rest of the distance to Greymoor House, which, luckily for him, was just on the other side of Grosvenor Square. His mind filled with thoughts of Edwina the entire while.

He threw the front door open, surprising a bleary-eyed footman. The young man blinked at Lucas with shock.

“My lord, are you injured?”

Lucas glanced down at the disastrous state of his clothes. He was covered from head to foot with crushed flowers and leaves, his jacket was torn down the center, and there was a tear in his trousers at the knees. But, all he felt was the torment radiating from his cock. He was sure to be covered in bruises tomorrow, but now, his mind was only with Edwina. Her lush body, her lips pressed against his. The way her sex clenched tightly, rhymically against his fingers as she climaxed. The hungry kiss she bestowed on him.

Lucas nodded curtly at the footman and ran up two flights of stairs into his bedchamber, slamming the door shut behind him. He wasted no time freeing his straining cock from his trousers. The pain for release was immense.

With the hand that minutes before was deep inside Edwina, slick with her arousal, Lucas stroked himself, once, twice, and came so hard that he fell to his knees.

***

Edwina blinked in surprise. One moment Lucas was outside her window, his eyes heated with need that thrilled and aroused her, and the next, he was gone.

“What the devil?” A male voice called out in the hallway. It was Anthony. The sound of hurrying footsteps raced past her room and down the flight of stairs.

Edwina’s door was thrown open and Eloise, dressed only in her nightgown, flew into her room. “Did you hear that? What was that commotion?”

Edwina just shook her head, stunned. Eloise approached the opened window, cast Edwina a suspicious look, and peered out. They watched as a dark form stood and ran from the house.

“What are you not telling me?” Eloise asked, a glint of amusement in her eye.

***

Lucas's hand trembled as he poured himself a brandy. The glass clattered loudly against the carafe. Who heard of a surgeon's hand that shook?

He spent the past few minutes berating himself as he picked himself off his bedchamber floor, cleaned up the mess he made, and hurried down to the study where he knew William kept his best brandy. Lucas never drank from the stock, never needed to, until tonight. His nerves were shot, and not necessarily from the two-story fall from Edwina’s window. He should be grateful that he hadn’t broken his neck, that he was able to escape from Bridgerton House without being caught, but all he could think about was how close he was from losing his resolve and fucking Edwina until they both collasped into a mindless pleasure.

He drowned the glass and poured another.

Lucas turned at the sound of a knock at the study door. Constance stood in the doorway, a candle in her hand illuminating her face.

"Did I wake you?"

She shook her head. "No, I was checking on the girls in the nursery. I saw the light." She glanced at the glass in his hand and looked up at him in surprise. "Are you all right, Lucas?"

Damned if he knew.

"Yes. Fine."

Constance looked at him strangely as if not believing him. "You are covered in," she stepped closer and pulled a crushed flower from his hair, "wisteria?"

"I fell."

Oh, did he fall. The entire facade of wisteria that clung to the exterior walls of Bridgerton House crushed Lucas as the trellis collapsed underneath him. Luckily for him, the wind wasn't knocked out of his body and he was able to make a hasty retreat as the house lit up with activity from the sound of the crash. He could still hear the cries of alarm as he pulled himself free from the debris and ran all the way back to Greymoor House as if the hounds of hell were nipping at his ankles.

It was amusing when he stopped and thought about it. He actually fell this time, unlike the lie he told Benedict at Lady Danbury's ball when he caught him with Edwina.

Lucas felt a smile inch across his face. Constance looked alarmed.

"And, your clothes...you're soaked." She sniffed the air. "And, you smell like…lavender?"

Lucas waved off her concern. He could not lie to Constance. “How are the twins?” he asked instead.

Constance’s face softened. “They are well. Wilma grew a bit fussy earlier, which woke Lucy. Nanny and I had to rock them for over an hour before they settled again. I believe I will be returning to Longmont in a day or two.”

“So soon?” Even before the birth of her daughters, Constance declared her desire to return to her family home, Longmont Abbey, in the country. She was tired of London, of all the smoke, noise, and dust. She wanted to be amongst her family again, her brothers and sisters, most of whom still resided at Longmont. She wanted to be close to William again, who was buried at the family gravesite at Leighton Castle, which neighbored Constance’s family’s land. It was how she and William met. As children, they used to sneak small candies to one another during Sunday church services which evolved to gifts of pressed flowers and notes to stolen kisses and long walks.

Constance nodded. “The girls seem strong enough to travel, even though they are newborn. I will have Nanny Clements with me and several maids. And, my brother, Oscar, has already arrived in town to escort me home.” She paused, taking the glass of brandy out of his hand and placing it on the desk. “You need the space to begin your own life as the Earl of Greymoor.”

Lucas felt a rising tide of dismay at the onslaught of responsibility that the title brought with it. Before tonight, he never thought of himself as a careless man. He knew the burden of the earldom was his and his alone, but the knowledge that Constance was leaving him raised a sense of panic that surprised him. If she left, he would be truly and utterly alone.

“You do not need to leave on my account.”

“I know, but the longer I stay the greater the chance that rumors will fly. You are a bachelor residing in the same home as a widow. There will be gossip.”

“Then, marry me.” He regretted the words the moment they left his mouth. They felt wrong. Desperate.

Though, it wasn't the first time the thought passed through his mind. He could marry Constance, William's widow. She would remain the Countess of Greymoor. He would be the father to William's daughters.

The marriage would solve all his problems. Constance will remain at Greymoor House as its mistress. And, they will be man and wife in name only.

He would be committing himself to a life of celibacy. There would be no Greymoor heir.

“What of Miss Sharma?”

Lucas froze, his body tensed. It was inconceivable that Constance knew what transpired between him and Edwina tonight.

“What of her?” he asked with false nonchalance.

“Lady Featherington visited me this afternoon and mentioned that she had seen you at Lady Danbury’s ball. You singled out Miss Sharma, danced a waltz with her, and disappeared into the gardens afterwards.”

“It is not what you think,” he replied. No, after tonight, it was much, much worse.

Constance sighed. “Lucas, I love you and I always will for what you did for me after William passed, but you must promise me that you will try for your own happiness.”

“Are you saying it is with Miss Sharma?” He took the glass of brandy off the desk and drained it in one swallow. Constance cast him a disappointed look.

“Perhaps, but shouldn’t you at least try to see if you care for her or any other young lady? I won’t be your consolation prize.”

“I did not mean it that way.” Though, he clearly did and realized how he insulted her. He did not think of her own happiness, which she found with William. He could never replace the love they had for one another and, truthfully, he did not want to. He loved her too much as a friend to chain her to him. “You are right. We cannot marry. Forget that I even asked.”

“It is forgotten.” Constance began moving back towards the study door. “What you need is someone to help guide you through the many social obligations–the balls, soirees, musicales, picnics. I keep forgetting that this is all foreign to you, that you left London before experiencing your first official Season. And, now, here you are, the Earl of Greymoor, one of the most eligible bachelors of the year.” Constance smiled teasingly at the look of dismay on Lucas’s face. “I almost pity you.”