Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

T hey both stayed rigid for a moment, stopped in a tableau that one of the artists below would likely long to paint, until Mr. Hartwell finally moved from his crouched position to a full stand.

“I am afraid that you have the wrong idea,” he said, his face hardening as he stepped backward. Was that fear in his expression? “I am not interested in a wife.”

“Forgive me. I was unclear,” Noelle said, mortification overwhelming her momentarily. She had been so caught up in Mr. Hartwell’s presence. His navy eyes drew her in, the quick expressions he tried to hide keeping her there.

She could understand now why he was so successful. It was not just his handsome features but the mysterious allure about him.

“I am not suggesting that we actually marry.” She breathed deeply, attempting to center herself and return to her mission. “I am suggesting that we fake an engagement. From what I heard, you need the opportunity to integrate yourself with the nobility. I can provide that opportunity for you. My father – for now – is well respected, and before she died, my mother was a well- known hostess with many friends in the ton . I am happy to make you whatever connections you require.”

He coolly assessed her. “And in exchange?”

This was the tricky part. She inhaled courage.

“In exchange, I would ask that you pay off my father’s debts.”

“What kind of debts are we talking about?”

“Over fifty thousand pounds,” she said, hurrying forward as his eyes widened. “I would not expect you to pay all of it but a portion. Before we enter into a contract, we can ascertain the exact number.”

“A contract?” The corner of his lips tipped upward. “It seems you are a businesswoman yourself, Lady Noelle.”

A flush stole up her cheeks, but she would not allow this man to intimidate her, even if he was not doing so purposefully.

“I would want this to be fair to both of us,” she said. “My father has lost a great deal on bad investments. I am not asking that you rescue us completely, but only that you cover enough so that we do not lose all respectability.”

“Respectability is so important,” he said sarcastically, annoying her, and she raised an eyebrow toward him.

“Is that not what you are currently chasing?”

He stared at her in surprise for a moment before he threw back his head and laughed.

She could only blink in astonishment until he finally settled once more.

“You are quick-witted, Lady Noelle. I like that. How long would you propose this last?”

“I would suggest that I pose as your fiancée for the holiday season. My friend Lady Hattie – her mother is Lady Burton, who is hosting this event today – is having a party over Christmastide and she has invited me and my father. You could attend as well, as my betrothed. Many influential guests stay over the season, and this year, we can even take the railway there as it has just been extended to meet the town. After Christmas, we could amiably part ways.”

He crossed his arms, and she wished she could read his thoughts, for his face gave nothing away.

“You have an interesting proposition.”

“And?”

“I am intrigued but hesitant. If you know society as well as you claim, would you truly be willing to deceive them? Your friends? Your family? If – and I mean if – we go ahead with this, I would want no one to know the terms of our arrangement, during or after. Gentlemen would hardly be inclined to follow my ideas if they knew I used a young lady this way.”

“I am the one suggesting it.”

“Yes, but no one would believe it,” he scoffed. “I also would prefer not to break your heart. What if you fell in love with me?”

It was her turn to laugh now. “You have a high opinion of yourself, Mr. Hartwell,” she said. “I can assure you that my head has not been overwhelmed with thoughts of a man before, and it certainly isn’t going to start now. Besides,” she leaned in, “maybe you will fall in love with me . What if, Mr. Hartwell, after all of the success you find in business, you will lose something so valuable to a woman?”

He grinned wickedly. “I enjoy women, Lady Noelle, but I can assure you that my heart is not available to anyone. Most especially not a noblewoman.”

“Very well, then,” she said, trying not to be insulted and holding up a finger before he could continue. “I must tell you that I would have another stipulation.”

“It sounds like this will be one of the more complex contracts I have signed.”

“There will be no romantic gestures unless we are in public. I know people will need to see affection between us to believe in an engagement, but I will not be ruined.”

“Of course,” he said so easily that she wondered if he had any attraction toward her at all. Not that it mattered. “Can you honestly say that you have no hesitations?”

She paused. Of course she did, but she wasn’t inclined to share them with him. “There is always uncertainty in aligning oneself with a person one doesn’t know.”

“Some would say that aligning with a friend could be even worse for the fallout has greater consequences.”

“Perhaps,” she said, tilting her head. “But at this point, the alternative is complete ruin. I could face the surety of losing one of our homes, our staff, most of my possessions, and, quite possibly, my father. On the other hand, I could go forward with the possibility that you could restore our fortunes enough that my father could make a go of it again.”

“This last investment was the only one I have ever entered that has failed miserably,” he said.

“I see.”

“I told myself I would not make a bad investment again.” He leaned in toward her, seizing the space in front of her. “Tell me, Lady Noelle, can you assure me that investing in you will benefit me?”

“I can assure you that I always uphold my end of a deal, Mr. Hartwell,” she said, finding her throat so thick she could hardly breathe, let alone speak. “You have nothing to fear.”

“Very well, then,” he said, narrowing his eyes and breathing in slowly and deeply. “Consider us engaged.”

A strange combination of relief and fear rushed over Noelle. Relief that she had found a way forward, out from this hole her father had dug for them. And fear of what this arrangement would mean. Close quarters with Mr. Hartwell, at the very least. But she could handle it. He was just a man, albeit a tall, handsome, intelligent, intimidating one.

She held out her hand. “It will be a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Hartwell.”

He looked down at her hand but did not attempt to take it.

“Pleasure it will be, I’m sure,” he agreed. “I do not believe this type of agreement should be sealed with a handshake, however.”

“No?” she said, dropping her hand and feeling foolish. She was a woman. Of course, he wouldn’t see this as a business deal.

“ This should be sealed with a kiss,” he said, leaning in and capturing her lips.

Cooper couldn’t have said what had come over him.

He had been seeking a business arrangement in which the woman would have no feelings toward him and would be solely interested in his money.

But then, this temptress had offered him precisely what he sought. It had seemed too good to be true, meaning it probably was. It was why he’d hesitated before agreeing to the offer.

All he had to do was pay off a few debts? He would make her a fair offer to help repay some of what this lord had frittered away in gambling debts and bad investments. He would recoup the amount once he established the right connections.

Perhaps he had been overwhelmed by gratefulness. Or maybe he was looking for an excuse to kiss her before their relationship became contractual, for then this would be off-limits.

Whatever the reason, the longer she stood in front of him, the more he wanted her in his arms, to take her lips with his.

Her lips parted in shock when he leaned in toward her, and he felt the soft gasp as she breathed him in and their lips touched. She was still for a moment, and he almost pulled away. But then, she responded, moving beneath him, matching his subtle movements.

It was gentle, slow, and he knew that he should back away now, that this could be explained away if he stopped before this went any further.

But he had never been a man who stopped when he should have. He always took the extra step, didn’t mind the risk, and was almost always rewarded.

Which was why he stepped forward, clasped his arm around her back, and hauled her up against him as his tongue parted her lips and he began to plunder.

Her moan caused a surge of lust to run straight through him to where he began to ache, as all he could focus on was her response to him, the way her tongue curled around his, inexperienced but eager. She pressed herself to him, her small breasts firm against his chest. He hadn’t expected this. Not from her.

He’d had many women before, but never a lady.

The thought had him wrenching himself back away from her. This would only work without emotion or attachment. He doubted she could separate that from the physical.

What had he done?

She stood there appearing helplessly adrift, blinking up at him in shock, her lips red from his pressure. She was thoroughly disheveled, and it was entirely his fault. He ran a hand through his hair as he stepped backward as though he could escape this situation.

“My God, I am sorry,” he said profusely. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head as she pulled at her gown, straightening it before attempting to catch more of the stray tendrils of hair that had fallen loose. “You should not have.”

Well, she certainly didn’t appear to be a woman who was easily rattled.

“Do you… do you still want to go ahead with this?”

“Yes,” she said resolutely, lifting her chin, and a flicker of fear ran through his chest as he wondered how much debt he was agreeing to take on. “It was just a kiss.”

Just a kiss? If that was how she described what had just occurred between them, what kind of kisses had she had in the past? He had assumed she was a sheltered, inexperienced young lady. Had he misunderstood?

“Very well,” he said. “Our last, then.”

“Of course,” she said with a nod. “We should return to the event. My father will be seeking me out.”

She swept past him, an intoxicating scent of sweet cinnamon trailing behind her, his reaction catching him off guard for a moment until she stopped at the door and turned to him. “Perhaps you should wait a few minutes before following me in. But when you do, ask me to dance once the orchestra starts. We should begin building our story of how we met and were instantly drawn to one another. It must be believable.”

She was calculating. Formidable. And, he noted as he accepted her direction, awe-inspiring.

For the first time he could remember, he couldn’t wait to see what the Christmas season might hold.