Duke of Deception (Wentworth Trilogy) (5 page)

From behind them came the sound of a man clearing his throat. The sound barely registered with Lucy, her mind ignoring its meaning, until the privateer released her, sliding her down against his full, hard length. Warmth flooded Lucy’s body, pooling deep in her belly, and she fought him, trying to hold on, pressing herself against him, not wanting the tantalizing sensations to end.

He chuckled. “You’re a passionate young lady. I do believe you weren’t telling the truth when you said you wouldn’t want me to ravish you on the ballroom floor.”

Lucy’s ardor dissipated at the smugness of his tone; embarrassment and shame took its place. Lightning fast, she raised her hand and slapped him hard across the face. His answering grin made her heart pound with fury.

“It would appear I arrived just in time,” Lord Aster said. “Please forgive my associate for his ignorance of society behavior.”

The expression on Lord Aster’s face was kind, if a little sheepish. Behind him, Sara waited in the shadows.

“We followed you out immediately,” he continued. “Let us hope no damage has been done. Lady Sara will escort you into the ballroom. If you’d like a few moments to recover, the captain and I will hurry around to the other side and make our entrance. Your reputation should not suffer on his account.”

“Thank you, my lord.” Lucy’s trembling voice was almost a whisper. She was still shocked by the captain’s actions and by her response, and she was desperately trying to shake off the maelstrom of feelings, to regain some control.

The American bowed low and with a knowing look said, “Till we meet again, my lady. I’m sure we
both
hope that will be soon.”

“Oh!” Lucy stamped her foot and turned her back to him.

Sara was instantly at her side. “My goodness,” she whispered as soon as the men departed. “I suspect you’ve made quite a stir inside. I daresay there are men who will look at you differently now that you’ve been singled out by the infamous Captain Wainright. Come now, you must give it up. I must hear the details. How does he kiss? Was it wonderful?”

Lucy stamped her foot again, infuriated by her response to the captain and by Sara’s questions as well. “Is that all you can think about?” she blurted out. “He-he stood here and took advantage of me, and all you can do is ask if his kiss was wonderful?”

Lucy glared at Sara, realizing how ridiculous she sounded in light of her plan, but she was unable to quell her anger. Then Sara began to giggle and so did she as an almost hysterical silliness overtook her other emotions. Moments later they were both gasping for air.

“You’ve got exactly what you wanted,” Sara said, wiping a tear from her eye. “He can’t be forced to marry you, and he certainly doesn’t care about your reputation. As you said, he’s the perfect pawn for your scheme.”

Lucy sobered up at Sara’s words. In the back of her mind was a niggling apprehension. Somehow she didn’t think this captain the type of man to be used in anyone’s scheme. Quickly reviewing her sketchy plans for ruination, she tried to imagine any possible way they could go awry, but she could not foresee it. Still, the uneasy feeling persisted.

“I don’t know, Sara. I’m worried. He doesn’t seem the type to be duped. And we never discussed the compromising situation in detail. Shall I be ravished by him or shall I devise a way to make it appear so?”

Perhaps it wouldn’t be so terrible to be ravished by the American, she thought. It was an experience she might never have otherwise, if she never married, and the man
was
very handsome and exciting. At least she would find out what all the talk—or rather,
secrecy
—was about.

“What do you think? Must I let him ravish me?” she asked hopefully.

Sara laughed as she smoothed Lucy’s hair into place. “My dear, you are a delight. We shall see. If you must be ravished, then you must. For now, let us go back inside. I fear Mama and your aunt are calling for the salts by now.”

U
pon reentering the ballroom, Lucy spied the captain on the other side of the room. He was deep in conversation with Lord Aster, and both men seemed tense. Before she could say a word to Sara, they were set upon by her aunt and Sara’s mother, whose stern looks foretold of scoldings to come.

There was nothing left to do but dance with the never-ending stream of men eager to lead her to the floor. She would have been content to sit out the dances, if she could have sat near enough to hear a certain conversation involving a certain American privateer, for it appeared as though Lord Aster was taking the captain to task. As she looked on wistfully, she could only wonder if the conversation had anything to do with the captain’s scandalous behavior toward her. By the flustered looks Lord Aster cast in her direction, she suspected it was so.

Lounging in a shadowed corner of the ballroom, Derek was left in no doubt of Stephen’s feelings.

“There are enough women panting for you here that you didn’t need to choose a virgin to spirit away,” Stephen said, his face red with anger. “It’ll be a wonder if your actions don’t ruin Lady Louisa’s reputation. What the devil got into you?”

Derek stiffened at the criticism. One thing he would never do was ruin a lady’s reputation. He gave a brusque nod toward Lady Louisa as yet another young man applied for a dance. “You can see for yourself her reputation is intact. Look at her . . . she’s the belle of the ball.”

Indeed, the men were lined up for the girl, and she was enjoying the attention. He didn’t know why that irritated him, but it did. He wanted to stomp over to the young man leading her to the dance floor and shove him away. As a matter of fact, he wanted to fling the lad across the ballroom hard enough to bounce him off the other wall.

He lifted a glass of champagne from the tray of a passing footman and downed it in one long gulp. Taking a deep breath, he forced his gaze from her. “Besides, it works into my plan. I’m supposed to be a rakehell and that’s a step toward establishing the fact.”

“Rakehell?” Stephen glowered at Derek. “I hardly think you need be a rakehell to prove you’ll smuggle goods. It’s important to establish your lack of character, but only when it comes to business. I’m staking my reputation on your social interactions, and I won’t have you leaving the bodies of innocent young ladies in your wake. Lady Louisa’s been through enough during the past couple of years, and I won’t be party to any further suffering on her part.”

Derek quirked a brow at Stephen’s last statement and then sighed. “You’re right. I don’t know what came over me. I forgot myself briefly, but it won’t happen again.”

A memory of the girl’s soft body pressed to his flashed through his mind, causing an immediate physical response, and he gave himself a mental shake. Stephen was right. Lady Louisa was an innocent, and besides, he couldn’t afford to be diverted from his goal by his baser feelings. But as far as he was concerned, the episode had been fortuitous. He hadn’t told Stephen, but the name Barrick was mentioned in his father’s journal many times. As were the names Chelton and Summerfield. Especially Summerfield. He assumed the men were connected and now that he’d made Lady Louisa’s acquaintance, he could, perhaps, use her as a source of information.

He glanced at Stephen to see him still watching Lady Louisa. “What do you mean she’s been through quite enough already?”

“She’s had a bad time of it,” Stephen said, his scowl relaxing. “Grew up without a mother, and then her father, Philip, was killed by a highwayman two years ago. They were very close; it devastated her. I don’t believe she made a single appearance last Season, though her mourning was over. I’m surprised to see her here, but I heard rumors her uncle wants her to marry.”

“Her uncle?” Derek posed the question casually, even as a score of other questions came to mind. Did her father’s death have anything to do with
his
father’s death, which might have happened around the same time? Was her uncle a Barrick as well, and if so, which man had his father been referring to in his journal? His frustration flared. The cryptic manner of his father’s notes made logical deductions impossible.

Stephen nodded. “He’s her guardian, though it wasn’t Philip’s wish. Two brothers couldn’t be less alike. Philip was a respectable man, once he got through his youth. Nathan, on the other hand . . . ”

“What about him?”

“Where should I start?” Stephen’s voice was thick with contempt. “He’s vain, lazy, and has a sickening way of ingratiating himself with whomever will further his rise in society. No one had even heard of him until he inherited Philip’s title.”

“Title?”

“Earl of Chelton.”

Chelton.
One mystery solved. Barrick and Chelton were the same man. Or maybe not. It depended on the timeline in the journal and the date of Philip Barrick’s death. Chelton could be Philip and Barrick could be his brother, Nathan. Or Chelton and Barrick could be the same man—either of the men.

“So Philip didn’t think enough of his brother to introduce him around to his friends?”

Stephen snorted. “Philip didn’t even leave Nathan the guardianship of his daughter, so what do you think? The man has questionable morals. He was supposedly penniless and inherited nothing but the title, yet spends money as though he has an unlimited supply. Perhaps I’m being uncharitable. I have only a passing acquaintance with him; my words are based on gossip. I daresay you’ll draw your own conclusions when you meet him in the gaming room. He’s probably gambling as we speak.”

Derek nodded absently, his gaze drawn to Lady Louisa again. He watched in annoyance as three hopeful young men approached her from different directions, each with an extra drink in his hand. He wondered how she would solve the dilemma of which man’s drink to choose. She was actually smiling at all three of them, looking from one to the other as though they had arrived in a group and were the best of friends. Was she a complete flirt, or was it possible she had no idea the lads were competing for her attention? As he looked on, an older woman with similar features and coloring moved closer to her and whispered in her ear. Derek cast a questioning look at Stephen.

“Eleanor, Lady Callister. Her mother’s sister. Lord and Lady Callister were granted guardianship in Philip’s will, but Nathan petitioned the courts and won. Some say he blackmailed the judge, but perhaps that’s another rumor. Lord Callister died shortly thereafter. Lady Callister resides in the country with Lady Louisa.”

Derek pondered Stephen’s words. If gossip was true, and it usually was, then Nathan Barrick bore the hallmarks of a criminal—selfish, a blackmailer, perhaps a judge or two in his pocket. But why would he want control of the girl’s guardianship badly enough to petition the courts? The real question was how might Barrick be connected to Summerfield, for Summerfield was the man his father had been most contemptuous of. It stood to reason, then, that Summerfield was the leader of the gang. Or was he?

Immersed in his ruminations, Derek barely noticed the woman who moved next to him, becoming first aware of her perfume, a scent which, though not quite cloying, brought to mind the vision of an enclosed room overflowing with flowers of every variety. Before he could shift his gaze to her, she spoke in a soft, cultured voice with just a whisper of a French accent.

“Well, well,
monsieur,
so you are the famous Captain Wainright, of whom all of London speaks. I must say the man is even more exciting than the fantasy.”

He turned to look at her. The woman’s eyes were luminous, dark and liquid, as she gazed up at him with an expression that could only be described as inviting. Her light blond hair was swept up and over to one side, leaving soft curls trailing down to a pale, exposed shoulder. While her blue silk dress clung to her in all the right places, it was tasteful just the same. Derek had no doubt she knew how to achieve whatever look she had in mind.

At any previous time in his life he would have been pleased to meet up with a beautiful woman such as this, one with an air of respectability who at the same time promised an evening of anything but. Tonight, however, she seemed tawdry, and he realized it was because of the girl, who now seemed a breath of fresh air in a veritable dungeon of flowers.

Stephen executed an elegant bow. “Lady Foxworth, may I introduce my friend and business associate? Captain Wainright, Lady Foxworth.”

“The
widow
Foxworth,” she added meaningfully. “I repeat, sir, you are even more exciting than the fantasy.”

Derek slid his gaze over the woman’s lush body, lingering on her ample bosom, before he raised his eyes to give her a disbelieving look. “Perhaps your fantasies should be improved upon, my lady, for if anyone deserves rich fantasies, it is surely you.” He lifted her hand to his lips and held her gaze for a moment before pressing a soft kiss on her gloved hand.

Stephen looked first at Lady Foxworth and then at Derek. “I believe I am wanted . . . elsewhere,” he finished weakly and took his leave.

Lady Foxworth moved closer to Derek and continued as though Stephen had not spoken. “If any man can fulfill such fantasies as I have in mind, it is surely you, Captain. Possibly, we even share the same fantasy, but why stop there when we could share so much more?”

The suggestion hung in the air, and Derek found himself oddly disinterested. He gave her what he hoped was a most regretful look. “I’m certain you are right, but I’m afraid I have time only for business on this trip.” Even as he spoke those words, he found himself looking back to the dance floor for a glimpse of Lady Louisa. He saw her within moments, dancing with yet another man. Annoyed that unbidden thoughts of the young woman kept entering his mind, he glanced at Lady Foxworth, only to see her narrowed expression directed at the girl too.

“Beautiful young virgins are always a delight, are they not, Captain, and this one offers the promise of something very special. Again, perhaps we should explore a sharing. Three are sometimes better than two.”

Derek tore his gaze from the dance floor with a start and sought to maintain his composure. Whatever he’d been expecting, it was not this. He hadn’t realized his thoughts were so transparent, and as for Lady Foxworth, who was she really interested in, him or Lady Louisa? And why did her offer irritate him anyway? Just a moment ago he thought the woman’s blatant sexuality tawdry, and now he was jealous because she wanted the girl.

It suddenly occurred to him that what he felt wasn’t jealousy over this woman’s affections, but protectiveness toward a young lady he didn’t even know. It seemed unfair that an innocent could be seduced and ruined by Lady Foxworth before the girl knew what was happening, and there was no doubt in his mind this woman could be successful in her seduction, or at least successful enough in her pursuit to ruin a young lady’s reputation. Lady Louisa had already proved to have a passionate nature, yet she wouldn’t have had experience with such matters.

He kept his expression neutral while he considered the situation. He studied the woman’s face for some hint of hidden purpose and finding none, shrugged nonchalantly. “Beautiful or no, virgins have never really been my preference, Lady Foxworth. Their condition carries an unnecessary encumbrance to such a necessary activity. But you injure me; would I not be enough for you?”

With slow deliberateness, he rested his gaze again on the curve of Lady Foxworth’s breasts before he raised it to meet her eyes. The woman laughed softly and lowered her own gaze to that part of his male anatomy hugged by his skintight trousers.

“If any man were enough for me, you would be more than enough, Captain, for your attributes cannot be compared to many. But I find the enjoyment of another woman exciting, and it is an experience I sometimes prefer to share . . . with the right man. In this case, I would be willing to share with you, and I can promise you an unforgettable experience.”

Her suggestion angered Derek, but he cocked his head to one side and feigned interest, reminding himself she was a member of the
ton
and as such, could be of use to him. After a calculated moment he shook his head and said, “I hope I don’t seem too arrogant, my lady, but what makes you think you would be sharing with me? Perhaps I would be sharing with you, if I were so inclined. After all, up to this point, she’s shown no interest in either of us, but I could change that if I tried.”

“Dear, dear, sir, I have quite the advantage.” A smug superiority lit Lady Foxworth’s expression. “As a woman, I know all the tricks a gentleman would use to seduce a young lady, while you, on the other hand, have no idea how I would go about the same task. Have you not also forgotten I shall have no trouble getting her alone, while for you, that will most likely be an impossibility? Believe me, sir, I am quite adept at this, as several young ladies in this room could attest to, if doing so would not ruin their reputations forever.”

“In that case, I make no contest,” Derek replied. He spoke slowly while he sought the response that would steer the pleasure-bent widow away from Lady Louisa. He hoped the unsavory offer had been prompted by his interest in the girl, not her own, but he could not be sure. The safest course was to let her know that he would pursue neither of the women.

“It is no loss for me. As I said, virgins are not worth their trouble, however pretty they may be, and my business regretfully leaves no time for dalliance.” He bowed and caught her slim hand in his, pressing his lips to it. “Until we meet again, my lady . . . ”

Lady Foxworth smiled and inclined her head. “Yes, Captain, until then.” With a graceful, fluid motion, she moved away and was surrounded by several gentlemen who had obviously been waiting for just such an opportunity.

L
ucy watched as the American captain joined Lord Aster and the two disappeared through a doorway into an adjoining room. The rest of the evening was intolerable, for the privateer never returned to the ballroom and conversations with anyone other than Sara had become tedious at best. The only exception was her introduction to Lady Foxworth, who joined their party for a few brief moments and whose quick wit brought a respite to what had become a dreary evening in the absence of the privateer.