“It was marvelous,” she whispered, leaning into him so her breasts pressed against his chest. The night air was cold, but he was so warm. Safe. Arousing.
His palm flattened over her skin, just below her nape. “You won’t be a failure, and neither will your ball. I promise you that. We won’t give any of them the satisfaction.”
All Sabrina could think just then was the satisfaction she craved. What would it be like to kiss him? More than a chaste brush of lips, but a searing declaration of desire.
“Constantine…”
There was a flash of surprise in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by something much fiercer. He curled his hand around her nape and lowered his head until his mouth touched hers. His other hand rested on her shoulder, his thumb sweeping gently across her collarbone.
She clasped his back, finally realizing how desperate she was for this connection. His lips plied hers, moving softly but purposely, coaxing her to kiss him back. It didn’t take much. She wanted this and so much more.
Thinking of all Evie had told her and the book she’d provided, Sabrina slid her tongue tentatively along his lips. The press of his thumb on her intensified as he sealed his mouth to hers and met her tongue with his own. Angling his head, he deepened the kiss, giving her exactly what she desired. His hand cradled her head, holding her captive to his embrace, not that she wanted to be anywhere else.
Bliss raced through her, lifting her to a plateau she’d never even glimpsed. Heat and need pulsed in her sex and in her breasts, heavy against him. At last, they were on the precipice of rapture. On a balcony in the middle of a bloody musicale.
“Oh! I beg your pardon.”
The masculine voice startled them apart. Sabrina turned her head away from the door, too humiliated to allow whoever it was to see her face.
“A moment please, Harkin.” Constantine’s voice was a deep rasp and did nothing to ease the ache inside her. If anything, it only sharpened her longing. The sound of the door, which she hadn’t heard open, told her the man had left. “He’s gone back inside,” Constantine confirmed.
Sabrina let her body wilt against his. “That was horrifying.”
“I wouldn’t say it was horrifying,” he said. “We are married, after all. It’s not as if your reputation is ruined.”
She looked up at him to see a frown flit across his features. “Yet you are troubled by it.”
“Only because if my father hears of it, he will say it was horrifying. Once upon a time, I might have agreed with him.”
“And now?”
He gave her an enigmatic smile. “Now, we must go inside before the musicale starts.” As he guided her into the house, Sabrina was careful to look straight ahead and not make eye contact with Harkin. Did she even know who he was? She didn’t think so, and she preferred to keep it that way, at least for tonight. And perhaps the rest of the Season.
“How was your evening before you had to deal with your mother?” Constantine asked as they strolled the perimeter of the drawing room.
“We hadn’t been here long.” Sabrina remembered that Cass had said she would find her. “Your sister is probably looking for me. I don’t suppose you see any potential suitors for her here tonight?” She glanced up at him.
“I am not the best person to ask.”
Sabrina’s gaze fell on a tall, dark-haired Irishman she’d danced with during her Season and whom she’d talked with at the Phoenix Club assembly. “What about Lord Wexford?”
Constantine arched a shoulder. “I don’t know him well. He’s a friend of Lucien’s if you’d like to determine if he’s up to snuff.”
“I’ll speak with him.” Sabrina scanned the drawing room to see if her brother-in-law was in attendance and found him near the doorway. She also noticed a gentleman waving his hand rather emphatically at Constantine. “Do you know that man?” She didn’t recognize him.
“Yes, he’s a colleague. Forgive me, but I must talk with him briefly. I will join you for the musicale.” He took her hand and pressed a kiss to the back of her glove, his eyes glittering with promise.
Sabrina’s insides fluttered as he moved away from her. She might have stood there mooning over her husband if Lucien hadn’t approached her.
He bowed to her with a gallant flourish. “Good evening, Sabrina. How goes your sponsorship of our sister?”
“It’s scarcely begun, but since you brought it up, I wonder if you might tell me about Lord Wexford. Would he make a suitable husband for Cass?”
“Absolutely not.” The answer came swift and hard. Lucien’s usually jovial gaze had darkened to cinder.
“I thought you were friends.”
“We are. Good friends, actually, but he is completely inappropriate for Cassandra.”
“I see. Well, I’m glad I asked you. If there are any other gentlemen we should avoid, I hope you’ll let me know.” She moved closer to his side. “Have you been able to procure an invitation for Constantine to the Phoenix Club?”
One of his brows slanted. “Constantine? Dare I hope things are progressing well between the two of you?”
She couldn’t help the blush that rushed to her cheeks. Probably because it was impossible to not keep thinking of their kiss on the balcony. “They are…progressing.” Perhaps Constantine would come to her bed that night. Her pulse quickened at the thought.
Lucien grinned. “That must be why there have been no further requests for meetings with the tutor.”
A wave of unease washed over Sabrina. She’d done a good job of ignoring the guilt she felt regarding her deception. It was easy when things were going so well between her and Constantine and when she was trying to look forward and not back. Should she even feel guilty given their newfound closeness? She hoped they would both see how the sessions had helped—and she was convinced they had.
“You should come to the club tonight,” Lucien said, pulling her from her troubling thoughts. “It’s Tuesday, so you can see the men’s side.”
“If my husband could come with me, I would.” In truth, she wanted to go anyway. She was quite eager to see the inside of a gentleman’s club.
“I’m working on it,” he murmured. “But I can’t tell you anything about it. In fact, if you could come tonight, your presence and, frankly, your charm might persuade others to be in favor of inviting Con.”
Her charm? “Are you mistaking me with someone else?”
He smiled at her. “Not at all. Lady Aldington has caused quite a stir since returning to town. Haven’t you heard? She is no longer the shy wallflower countess. She’s a coveted guest at any occasion, and she’s a member of the Phoenix Club.”
Sabrina had no idea she’d garnered so much attention. The old anxiety welled up inside her, but there was something else too—pride. “I will think about coming.” It depended on Constantine and whether he had plans later. If he did, she would go to the club after dropping Cass and Miss Lancaster at Evesham House.
The host signaled that the musicale would shortly begin, and the guests should find their seats. Sabrina glanced about and finally saw Cass and Miss Lancaster. “Do you wish to sit with us?” she asked Lucien.