Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

“ H ave your little fun, pretty lamb,” William murmured while keeping his eyes locked on the lady below, her white costume a beacon in the dark. “I will see you soon.”

“Arlington,” Colin came closer. “Some of the lords are convening in the billiards room for cards and drinks. Will you join us?”

“No,” William replied while not losing sight of the little angel below. “Go enjoy yourself.”

From the corner of his eye, he spotted Colin’s brows draw together, then he followed William’s train of sight, and a liberal sigh left him. “Good god man, please do not tell me you are planning on corrupting the pure girl?”

“And how do you know she is pure?” A possessive growl left William’s mouth.

“But you are planning on corrupting her.”

“Answer my question first.”

Instantly, Colin had his hands up. “I have never touched her. Matter of fact, I do not know who she is, so please, shelve the undue jealousy for God’s sake.”

Sedated, William grunted. “I won't be tempted to the card table or drink. Not only am I unwilling to risk what I barely have, I am also in training for the Circuit, Thornbury. Hard liquor impedes my judgment.”

Glancing at the lady below who was twirling with Hansen, Colin smirked, “I see something else that is impairing your judgment.”

“Thornbury?”

“Yes?”

“Go away, enjoy your cards, cloying cheroot smoke and liquor.” William’s eyes lifted to the clock on the far side of the room and grimaced. It was a quarter to eleven and his time to win the kiss from the lady was slipping away. “I need to think.”

Cackling, Colin walked away, and William descended the stairs to the ballroom as the jig ended and the minuet was announced. He joined the line strategically where he would be able to be one of the angels’ partners.

By the end of the night, I must learn her name.

He fixed his gaze on her face, willing her to look up and meet his eyes, but the way she kept her head down and her blush trailed to her hairline… he smirked. She damned well knew he was there.

The dance began and while William hated such a stodgy dance, he would endure it if he got to touch her again. On the first turn, his palm met hers and her eyes dropped.

“Keep your eyes on me,” he ordered softly, and when her lashes swept up, he smiled. “There you are, sweet girl.”

They parted and met different partners, but William craved going back to her and forced himself not to hasten the steps and spoil the dance for the others.

When he twirled to his angel again, he pressed his hand tighter to her. “The next waltz is mine,” he told her as he met her eyes. “Whatever you have with Hansen, I care not, but that waltz is mine.”

She swallowed. “You are a bit arrogant, aren’t you?”

“No,” his lips twitched. “I am very arrogant, selfish, and entitled, but I am also wise enough to know my vices.”

She made to reply but was forced to turn and meet her other partner, and when they finally reunited, her eyes were calm. “What virtues do you have?”

“Longer than my vices,” he whispered. “And I would like to show you some before you leave this night.”

Her head turned and he caught a glimpse of gold around her neck, and it felt like torture to spin away and dance with another. He did the last turn, eager to meet the angel once more and then get away from the dance floor until the next waltz.

“The north garden, there is a white-painted gazebo,” he dropped his voice. “Meet me there after this.”

They parted and he briefly slipped his fingers through hers, then pulled away and headed to the overhead balcony. Betraying his decision earlier, he took a drink of strong scotch from the billiards room.

“You have decided to join us then, eh?” Colin grinned.

“No,” William snorted, threw back the rest of the drink, and reveled in the burn before setting the heavy glass down. “I have a prior engagement.”

“Oh god,” Colin muttered, his Scot accent slightly coming in, as it did when he let go of his stateliness. “You are set on ruining the little lass, aren’t you?”

Annoyed, he replied, “I am not, and devil take it, why must you keep assuming I am as despicable as I once was?”

Reticent, Colin’s shoulders fell. “My apologies. I suppose… I suppose we were so used to the man you were that it has become a sticking point with us. But still, Arlington, I do not think you should be doing this to the girl. You are not in the marriage way and teasing her with something she will never have is simply cruel.”

“And I’m simply having a bit of fun.”

“You have fun with bed partners who know what they are doing,” Colin added knowingly. “Virginity has no special appeal for you and we both know it.”

He was right, William did prefer women who knew the way around the bedroom, and while virginity was his antithesis… he felt a pull to this lady that he had never felt with anyone else.

Fixing his jaw, William headed down to the lower story, and as a new dance was in swing, he slipped out of a pair of glass French doors and headed to the garden. Would his angel meet him there or would she run from the mutual attraction he knew she felt?

“And when did she become mine ?” he grumbled.

He had chosen this garden because he was certain that the gazebo there had a blind spot. When he reached the small gazebo, hemmed in by trees, he leaned on the wooden balustrade and let the night air rake through his hair.

What did he really want with this woman?

Was it the intrigue she possessed? Was it her fresh beauty, or did he really want to claim her innocence? Or was it a revisit to the days when he could so easily charm a lady into his bed with a smile and a whisper?

Not much light came in from above as the moon was still enshrouded in clouds and the stars were dimmed.

He could not be certain of the time, but the moments ticked by like eons, and just as he decided that she was not coming—a soft crunch of pebbles under heeled silk slippers from behind him drew his attention, but he didn’t turn.

She stopped. “…I’m here.”

“I know,” he replied, still not moving. “Tell me, angel, is a man like Hansen the one you want to be with?”

“Why not?” she asked. “He is a decent, upstanding fellow with not a black mark to his reputation.”

“I will give you that the proper match in the le beau ton has everything to do with breeding, status, and money. Attraction can fit somewhere in the twisted tangle and if one is lucky, gain a love match, but in the end, the spouse that is chosen is undoubtedly the one whose status and pocketbook enhances one’s own.”

She came closer. “…What are you trying to say?”

This time, he did turn and stopped himself from clenching his jaw. “I suppose it should not be a shock that you fancy the man, even though he is as interesting as plaster. Half the chits in Town would give their eyeteeth to wed the bloody earl, but since I am not a woman, please enlighten me, what do you see in that bloodless fop?”

Even by the faint moonlight, he could see the telltale signs of her blush. “I just told you why.”

“No, you told me why every lady wants to marry the man. You did not tell me why you want to pursue him, or why he should pursue you,” William said evenly. “Are you attracted to him?”

“What?” she gaped. “How is that any of your business?”

“Are you?”

“No,” she said defensively. “I—I don’t know. It is too early to tell. Why does it matter at all? We are not getting… involved.”

“Aren’t we?” he murmured, reaching out for her and pulling her closer. With both hands, he brushed the twists of loose curls that fell on either side of her jaw. Pulse thudding, he rolled his thumbs over her cheekbones, then tilted her head up.

Slowly, he traced his hands from her face down over her hip to the small of her back, pressed her closer than any legitimate waltz would allow until they were flush chest to hip. Silently, he moved his other palm up to capture her hand. “I told you, this waltz is mine. Let us dance, and after we are finished, maybe you will change your mind.”

“There is no music,” she said softly.

“Matters not,” he replied, stepping back. “We shall make our own.”

From the first step of the waltz, she followed his lead without a falter. The heat of their bodies surrounded them, as did the mingled scents of heady perfumes from the flowers. The clouds above shifted, and the night sky blazed with stars, while her breasts pressed tight against his chest.

“This is scandalous,” she whispered as he spun them.

“I know,” his grin was unrepentant. “I prefer it this way.”

After a few steps, he decided to do something drastic to remove the apprehension in her eyes; bracing a hand on her back, he tilted back and lifted her off her feet, then took in a round of dizzying turns—and her breathless laugh rippled over his senses as she gripped his shoulder.

“That’s better,” he brushed his lips across her cheek.

The infectious sound warmed his chest, and when he set her back on her feet, she glowed with a youthful, dazzling energy. As they danced, he could not take his eyes off her.

“You are breathtaking,” he held her around another music-less turn.

“Thank you,” she replied. “But aside from you being a rake, I know nothing about you… though you do remind me of someone.”

“You could ask if you want,” he invited her, as his steps slowed.

Her gaze was steady, but by increments, her pupils expanded. A breath rushed out, and before she could draw in the next, he kissed her. It was no more than a flutter of butterfly wings, but it still rocked right through his body.

Her words were a whisper. “A gentleman would have asked first, but you are no gentleman… are you?”

“Depends on what your definition of a gentleman is,” he replied, his eyes coasting over her face and fighting the sense of familiarity. “May I kiss you, properly this time?”

She gave him the tiniest nod, and when her lips parted, he swept his tongue through her mouth, as he strangled the almost ungovernable need rising within her. His tongue slid against hers, and a molten wave washed through him at her soft moan.

The kiss tangled, growing hotter and hotter, and before he hoisted her upon a balustrade to feast on her, he left her lips to suckle her earlobe, to lick his way down her neck.

He fixed his mouth over a patch of skin beneath her ear, then licked and sucked gently, then with too much passion. A cry left her throat, helpless, as she arched against his mouth and buried her fingers in his hair.

Deciding to leave a mark on her skin, he mistook the tugs on his hair for passion, but when he realized she was pulling him away, he jerked his head back instantly.

Her bosom was rising and falling at an accelerated rate, an aroused blush made her face rosy, and her lips were already looking kiss-swollen. Staying in place, he waited as she lifted her hands between his, grasped his mask, then gently lifted it off his face.

The moment her eyes latched onto his face, they filled with fear and she stumbled back. “It's… it’s you!”

What does that mean?

“Me?” he echoed. “What do you—"

“Stop, please—” she swallowed. “I need to leave.”

A hollow echo or a church bell rang midnight as she spun on her heel and lurched away—but not before his fingers slipped under the thin links of her necklace, causing it to snap as she darted away, leaving the necklace dangling from his fingers.

Standing still as she disappeared around the corner, his hand closed over the soft oval locket at the end. “She is not versed in kissing is she…” he murmured, “… and tastes like…innocence.”

The startling realization made his mind dart back to the night in the alley… could it be her? If it was the Miss in the alley, her fright would make sense.

As a brisk breeze chilled his skin, he belatedly realized that, once again, he had not learned her name. But if she was the same person as the one he had kissed in that alley, he would find her.

“All I have to do is shadow Lord Hansen,” he vowed, then looked at the locket. Prying it open with one hand, he read, “ To my dearest sister Bridget. Love, Frederick .”

Snapping it close, he dropped it in his inside pocket, “We shall see each other again… my dear Bridget.”

“Goodness gracious, Bridget—” Ellie grasped her skirts as they hurried to her carriage, her half boots clacking on the cobblestones. “—What is the matter?”

“I’m sorry,” Bridget gasped as the footman jumped down and opened the door. “But we need to leave. I—I—” kissed a rogue I should not have , “—may have un-endeared myself to a few ladies, which reminds me why I find these events unappetizing to say the least.”

After the footman helped Ellie in, Bridget took her seat across from her friend and finally felt some relief. Now she knew why that needling feeling about him being familiar had jingled in her mind. The Beast of Brookhaven had taken another kiss from her and it felt wrong, completely insane for her to feel so… enticed by him.

The first kiss had come about from her shock.

The second one had come about because she was curious.

What would cause a third?

There will never be a third because I must stay away from him. Rakehells like him are danger. If I get entrapped with him, I am the only one who would come away scathed.

“If that is the case, my dear, why do you look so flushed?” Ellie asked. “Surely, no insult can make you so red. I have seen you brush off humiliating comments with nothing more than a smile.”

“These ones got to me,” Bridget lied while opening the window shade. The cool air felt good on her skin. “It is hard to keep a bright smile when all around you are insults.”

Ellie sighed. “I had wished the anonymity of this night would change things, that the mystery of the night would prevail for you. That, for once, the muses of fate would extend a well-needed boon.”

“Well… I did meet Lord Hansen,” Bridget admitted and nearly cringed at her friend's delightful cry. “He seems intrigued by the very things that set the other ladies on edge. I spoke about the cruel intentions some ladies have when it comes to their marital ambitions and how it destroys innocent souls.”

“You did right,” Ellie shrugged. “Everyone knows it is the truth, but no one will admit it. You’ve done well, Bridget, he is a staid match and a sensible one. If you two do marry, I am sure everything will be as right as rain.”

Bridget thought back to the moment the Duke’s lips had touched hers—and felt her chest go tight. She could not breathe. Pressing a hand to her chest, she sucked in a breath.

This was not right.

This man could not—should not be affecting her this deeply.

I must forget him. He is no good for me. A rake like him is the exact sort of man any respectable lady must avoid. Who knows how many wild oats he has sown up and down the English coast?

At least I will not be another notch on his bedpost.

“I think,” she paused. “I should reach out to Hansen first, but it would be best to send him a letter with your residence. If it does go on, I will explain the truth of my circumstances to him and hope he does not turn away.”

Ellie smiled and patted her hand. “I will do anything I can for you, Bridget, you know that.”

“Thank you, Ellie,” Bridget swallowed over the tight knot in her throat. “I am so grateful for your help.”

“You can repay me by marrying well,” Ellie replied. “And Lord Hansen is the ticket. Believe me, Bridget, you won’t be sorry marrying him.”

I hope you are right.