Chapter 20

Andrew felt relieved and on edge at the same time at hearing Brooke’s words. She wasn’t going to render their relationship void because of some trivial, and if he said so himself irrelevant, gossip. Some London Ladies would run screaming as fast as their slippers would carry them at just the hint of gossip, but not his Brooke, she didn’t turn a hair.

At the same time, unease was quickly creeping in. She wasn’t going to let gossip taint their relationship, but he was going to singlehandedly destroy it within the next few days.

After finding what he considered the perfect picnic spot, Andrew stopped his horse and dismounted. “I should think this spot will do for our purpose,” he said, looking around.

The spot he’d chosen overlooked a small lake, actually it was more of a large pond, but that wasn’t important. A few surrounding trees that offered both shade and seclusion. The area where the picnic blanket would be laid was made of a thick green carpet of grass. It would be absolutely perfect for eating and maybe a few other activities…

His mind snapped back to present when he heard Brooke clear her throat. “Right,” Andrew clipped. He walked over to where Brooke was still seated on her horse and reached his hand up to help her down.

“Thank you, my lord. I began to despair that I was going to have to sit upon Bluebell and eat her oats with her while you enjoyed our picnic alone.” Her voice was light and full of humor.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I was just scouting out the best place for our picnic and it slipped my mind that you were waiting.” That sounded lame even to his ears.

“It’s all right,” Brooke assured him. “I just have a feeling that what’s in there,” she said, pointing to the picnic hamper that Andrew had taken off his horse and was now holding, “is better than what’s in there,” she pointed to the saddlebag where Bluebell’s apples and oats sat.

“I assure you, what’s in here is much better,” Andrew said, giving the hamper a little swing. “Shall we?”

“Yes,” Brooke affirmed, then placed her hand on his proffered arm.

Andrew laid out the blanket and made sure to position it the best he could to be out of view for anyone who might happen by. He intended to ruin her, but he didn’t want to do it today.

Once the blanket was in perfect location, Andrew began to unpack the hamper. He pulled out two cheese wheels, some bread, strawberries, a few pieces of chicken, a bottle of lemonade and two glasses. Finally, the hamper was emptied and he looked to Brooke to take a seat, but she wasn’t looking at him. She was looking around her surroundings.

He knew what she saw: a little area that had a wall of trees on three sides, and only a little grassy stretch then the banks of the lake, pond, or whatever, on the fourth side. They were so secluded even their horses couldn’t see them. Andrew thought she might panic. “If this won’t do, we can move,” he offered, hoping she would refuse.

“No,” Brooke said breathlessly. “I have no objections to where we eat. I was just admiring the beauty of it.” She waved her hand to indicate that she was taken with all her surroundings.

What a relief, Andrew thought. He did not want to move, this was the perfect spot to steal a few kisses, and he was looking forward to stealing as many as he could. He might even try to do more than just steal a few paltry kisses if she’d let him. He’d like to run his hands through her hair again, or perhaps somewhere else, too.

Andrew forced his mind away from such lustful thoughts before his body gave him away. First, he needed to get her to sit down. “Would you like to take a seat,” he invited, patting a spot on the blanket right next to him.

Brooke took a seat next to him. But not too close, he noted. That could be fixed. He smiled at her when she stiffed because he scooted so close to her their thighs were touching.

“Can I interest you in some chicken?” he asked, reaching behind them to grab two pieces of chicken.

“Thank you,” she replied automatically and licked her lips, but didn’t reach out to grab one of the offered pieces.

Andrew registered her reluctance. “It’s just us; you don’t have to be so formal as to cut it.”

Her face lit up and he let out a little chuckle accompanied by a wide grin. When Brooke grabbed the piece of chicken and bit a huge chunk out of it, Andrew let out a shout of laughter and shook his head. “You’re something else.”

“I have no idea if that is an insult or a compliment, coming from you I shall assume the worst,” she managed in between bites of chicken, “but I forgive you,”

“Have no fear; it was not an insult in the least,” Andrew said jovially. “I would be afraid to insult a woman who can tear apart a piece of chicken so savagely. It’s no longer a mystery to me as to why the colonies won their independence. If the country is full of people like you, England never stood a chance.”

Brooke laughed. “No, the real reason England lost is it was too hard for their soldiers to shoot straight with their vision impaired by their wig powder and spiky hats falling in their eyes.”

Andrew laughed at her jest. He had never understood wearing a silly wig or even hair powder. He had never attempted to, and felt no shame in that. Thankfully, the trend had started going out by the time he reached his majority, however, there were still a few who felt the need to wear a wig or powder.

“You don’t powder your hair, why is that?” Brooke asked curiously.

He shrugged and took the chicken bone from her and put it by the basket. “I’ve never felt the need. Some feel that it allows them to be seen as older and wiser if their hair is white, whether naturally or because of powder. I personally, do not put much stock into that idea. And on a personal note, I find the wigs and powders to be annoying, hideous, and smell of a very foul odor.”

Brooke giggled. “A foul odor?” she asked him while she licked the chicken juice from her fingers.

“Yes, most of the powders used are held in place on the hair by fat, pig fat to be exact,” Andrew stated and took satisfaction when she curled her pretty lip. “Let’s not talk of this any longer. I hate to see how your lips react,” he said in a husky voice. “I would much rather they be used for other purposes besides sneering and curling up in disgust.”

“Oh,” Brooke said in surprise.

Andrew leaned closer to her. His face was now less than an inch from hers. He noticed she swallowed as he reached up with his right hand and ran his fingers along her jawline. Brooke’s lips parted and her eyes grew round with wonder as he continued to rub her jaw with his thumb while starting to gently massage her neck at the same time. “Does this feel good?” Andrew asked huskily.

“Yes,” she gasped in reply.

He closed that last bit of space between them and his lips took hers. He kissed her slow and gentle, taking time to enjoy the feeling of her lips on his. His left hand took hold of the other side of her face and began to touch her jaw and neck the way his right hand had.

Slowly, Andrew sought to deepen their kiss and ran his tongue along her lips until she opened her mouth. When she let out a short gasp, Andrew let his hands fall from her face and onto her shoulders, where he rubbed them in small circular motions with his thumbs.

“Is something wrong?” he panted, when she suddenly pulled away from his embrace.

Brooke’s look of confusion did not change when she said, “No.” Nor did her look change when she looked down and took notice of his hands on the front of her shoulders, with his thumbs tucked inside of the top of her gown.

“Do you want me to continue,” he asked hoarsely, praying she’d say yes.

Brooke didn’t say yes, nor did she say no, she just gave a single nod.

Before she could change her mind, Andrew took charge of her mouth again. This time it was not as gentle, it was more demanding and intense; as if he were afraid she would slip away at any minute.

Her hands grabbed onto his shoulders and slid slowly up and down his arms, inspecting every bulge and plane as they went. Her action reminded Andrew of what he wanted to do. His hands left her shoulders and went to her side. He could feel her soft body under her gown. He'd hoped she didn’t wear a corset, and was pleased to learn she didn’t. His hands slowly glided up and down her ribs several times before moving higher.

Brooke flinched and let out a little shriek. “It’s all right,” he assured her quietly. “I’ll only do what you want me to, nothing more.” The words were spoken, and he meant them now, he just hoped he could keep that promise in a few minutes.

Brooke needed no more convincing and pulled his head back down to hers. This time it was her turn to be in control of their kiss. Andrew groaned and he rolled her onto her back. He carefully ran his thumbs along the sides of her soft breasts; as she relaxed more under him, his caresses got bolder.

Andrew heard her let out an excited sigh when he ran his thumbs under and around the sides of her breasts. “Do you like that?” he asked between kisses.

“Yes, oh yes,” she breathed.

He had certainly gotten lucky with Brooke. Not only did her body respond to his, but she openly admitted to enjoying his kisses and touches.

As his lips went back to kissing hers, his hands went to work on the front of her gown. It didn't take him long to learn the bodice of her gown was too high for him to be able to free her breasts just by tugging it down. If he did, it would rip. His hands roamed while his brain tried frantically to think of another way to expose her chest to his thirsty eyes. He reached up to her shoulders and found that her sleeves were not very tight. If he were able to slip them over her shoulders and pull them down a bit, he could free her breasts.

Brooke offered no resistance when Andrew grabbed her sleeves and started pulling them down from her shoulders. She gasped when his lips left hers and began to kiss her cheeks, then her jaw, and finally down her neck and along her collarbone.

His hands were still working on getting the sleeves down and revealing her breasts, but her shoulders were bare and his lips ached to kiss them, then they did. He gave them slow, gentle, lingering, open mouth kisses.

Brooke let out a soft sigh, her head rolled back and her eyes closed.

Andrew worked her gown down far enough that given only a little jerk, her breasts would be bared for him. He moved his lips from her shoulder up to the sweet hollow of her neck. He kissed her there with an open mouth, running his tongue in the depression. When she let out a gasp and arched her back from the sensation, he gave her gown that little jerk it needed.

Andrew was torn between feeling rather proud of his maneuverings and too lust fogged to care. His eyes connected with her wonder-filled brown eyes before lowering. His gaze traveled from her eyes to her swollen ruby lips then descended to further down her body. When his gaze settled on her chest, he blinked.