A Little Bit Sinful (12 page)

“She
is
a smart woman,” Lord Atwood joked and everyone laughed.

Eleanor felt the heat of a blush rise in her cheeks. Her and Lord Benton? Whatever was the duke thinking? She examined the conversation in her mind, deciding the duke had surely been jesting. True, she was closer in age to him than her sister, but honestly what man would be interested in her when Bianca was available?

That was of course assuming the viscount was interested in acquiring a wife. Based on all that she had heard, including the good-natured barbs this evening from those who knew him best, it seemed unlikely.

A footman holding a silver tray laden with filled glasses approached. Conversation ceased as everyone shifted about and made their selections. Eleanor picked a glass of ratafia for herself and was about to offer Bianca a tumbler of lemonade when she noticed her sister walking away, Lord Benton at her side.

Eleanor opened her mouth to call her back, but the command faded on her lips. Try as she might, she could not control Bianca’s every move. But she could, and would, keep a close eye on the viscount.

Settling herself on the end of an unoccupied couch, Eleanor slowly sipped her drink as she watched Lord Benton and her sister. Judging by Bianca’s frequent smiles, blushing cheeks, and lowered eyes, Eleanor concluded the viscount was flirting outrageously, but she surmised even he could
not behave with too much impropriety when in plain view.

Eleanor was soon aware that she was not the only one who had noticed the pair. Emma was positively mesmerized by them.

“They make a rather striking couple, my sister and the viscount,” Eleanor remarked casually.

For a heartbeat Emma hesitated, a fleeting look of concern on her face. Then she leaned toward Eleanor. “Benton is trouble,” Emma insisted, her voice pitched low. “You must not allow your sister to be deceived by his quick-witted charm and striking good looks.”

“Strange, I thought you liked him.” Emma’s eyes sparkled. “I do. He is marvelously entertaining. But I am not blind to his faults. Nor am I naive. He is a handsome, titled man in his early thirties who is known for charming women into his bed and has vowed not to marry until he is at least forty.”

“One would have to question why you keep company with such a man,” Eleanor replied, wondering at Emma’s lack of restraint. Close friends tried to shield each other’s reputations, not taint them. “Indeed, why would your entire family embrace him so completely if he is such an unscrupulous rake?”

Emma shrugged, her sharp gaze giving no quarter. “The friendship between my brother-in-law and Lord Benton is of long standing. They were schoolmates as boys, along with Mr. Dawson. The marquess would never stoop so low as to abandon his friends, no matter how tarnished their reputation. He has, however, expressly forbid me to be alone in Benton’s company.”

“Sound, prudent advice for any young girl.” Eleanor’s smile was wry. “I hope you take it.”

“I know all about proper, acceptable society behavior,” Emma answered. “Yet I am uncertain if the same can be said of your sister.”

Eleanor’s hackles rose automatically at the slight. Sister of the hostess be damned, she was about to deliver a scathing retort when she noticed Emma’s fingers curling into a tight fist.
Goodness, the girl was twisted in knots. Over Benton?

Perhaps. Still, the slight could not go completely unchallenged. Eleanor reached out and patted Emma’s knuckles. “‘Tis a great relief then, is it not, that Bianca is my concern and not yours.”

Emma gave her a long, level look. But then her demeanor changed instantly, her face almost glowing as if lit from within. Eleanor turned her head and noticed Lord Benton walking across the drawing room toward them. He was alone. Bianca had remained on the other side of the room, talking with the marquess and two other young women whose names Eleanor did not recall.

As he drew closer, Eleanor saw the truth revealed in Emma’s eyes. She was in love with the viscount. Eleanor glanced about the room to see if anyone had noticed, but no one thought anything unusual. It appeared what was so blatantly in front of them was too obvious to see.

For one brief moment Eleanor almost felt sorry for Emma. While it was clear that Lord Benton held her in great affection, he treated her as a younger sibling, not a possible wife.

Then again, the viscount was a close friend of her brother-in-law’s. He might well marry her in
the end, for men were ever practical when selecting a mate.

Eleanor pondered what this might mean for Bianca as the Atwoods’ butler signaled supper was served. The guests strolled informally to the dining room and Eleanor’s breath hitched.

It was a stunning room, boasting three chandeliers and easily seating the forty invited guests. It was a number Eleanor herself would never have assigned to a small dinner party, of course, she moved little in society and had never actually presided over one.

Her nerves eased as the meal progressed. Peter Dawson, seated on her left, was an interesting dinner companion. He soon had her laughing over tales of his boyhood antics with Lord Atwood and Lord Benton. She kept a close eye on Bianca but for long stretches allowed herself to relax and enjoy the delicious meal and witty conversation.

It was amazing how a glass of wine could mellow her nerves. Eleanor drained the first goblet by the time the meat course was served. She glanced down the table to where Bianca was speaking to two women, her face wreathed in a smile, then checked to see where Lord Benton was seated.

Relief swamped her when she saw the viscount was on the opposite side, several chairs away from her sister.

“More wine, Lady Eleanor?”

Mr. Dawson smiled at her while the liveried footman holding the bottle waited for her to answer. “Perhaps just a half glass,” she replied, deciding it couldn’t hurt.

The situation with Bianca and the viscount seemed
under control for the moment. It would be foolish indeed not to take advantage of this rare opportunity and enjoy herself.

As the dessert course was being served, Sebastian was surprised to find himself having a good time. Dinner parties at the Atwoods’ were always lively affairs and tonight was no exception. The food was delicious, though he thought the fricassee of veal a tad overspiced, the conversation stimulating, if one avoided the duke’s barbs, the company congenial, except for the occasional suspicious stares from Lady Eleanor.

Though seated several chairs away, he had been near enough to Lady Bianca to flirt with her intermittently during the meal, her shy smiles and warm blushes a sure sign of her interest. Sebastian’s luck held as the gentlemen left the dining room after their port and cigars had been enjoyed and joined the ladies. The wicked weather had calmed considerably, from torrential rains to a lighter spring drizzle and now to a balmy mist.

Several of the guests used the opportunity to stroll in the garden and Sebastian promptly placed himself at Lady Bianca’s side. She bestowed a welcoming smile upon her lips when he joined her, the moonlight casting a golden shadow over her delicate features.

Tucking her hand into his arm, Sebastian smoothly maneuvered down a secluded path, away from the others.
Like a lamb to the slaughter.
Damn, it was so much easier dealing with a female who didn’t have a suspicious bone in her body.

They strolled leisurely down the garden path past formal flower beds in neat symmetrical shapes to a section where the shrubs grew denser in a wild, untamed manner. Torches had been lit in anticipation of the guests going outside, so it was easy to find their way.

Bianca chatted in a breathless manner that revealed her nerves. Sebastian listened only enough to make an encouraging murmur or pose a question to keep her talking, all the while plotting his next move, searching for the perfect spot to steal a kiss.

And after the kiss—what then? Be discovered? It truly wasn’t all that shocking for a man of his reputation to be spied kissing a woman. The incident might stain Bianca’s reputation but it would not ruin it.

No, he needed a grander gesture to facilitate her ruin. And anyway, he refused to do anything so crass as to create a scandal in the home of his closest friend. No, instead he would use this opportunity to ensnare her, to tempt her with a single private kiss followed by the promise of more. He would earn her trust, then skillfully plant the seeds that would lead to her reckless abandon, and that in turn would cause her father to defend her honor.

They reached a stone bench set in a small alcove. The scent of fresh rain and spring flowers filled the air, lending a touch of mystery and romance.

“Allow me.” With a sultry smile, Sebastian gallantly removed his linen handkerchief from his pocket and wiped away the droplets of moisture from the bench.

Bianca giggled before settling herself gracefully.
Then she tilted her head and gazed up at him with luminous eyes. Encouraged, Sebastian placed his foot beside her on the bench and leaned in, taking her right hand in both of his.

“You look very beautiful in the moonlight,” he said in a silky tone. He raised her hand to his lips and kissed the inside of her wrist softly.

Her eyes twinkled brightly. “I could say the same of you, my lord. Though I believe men prefer to be called handsome.”

He moved her hand, placing it gingerly on his bent knee, then slowly released his grip. She swallowed deeply, her expression slightly dazed, yet she kept her hand resting intimately where he had placed it. The gesture spoke volumes, but instead of delight, a fission of guilt raked through him. Stalling, he cleared his throat.

“The air is damp,” he said. “Are you cold?”

She shook her head. Sebastian felt her fingers curl over his knee, their warm strength causing the tension inside him to rise. He gazed into her wide eyes and a flush of dread washed over him. He could see her innocence clearly on her face, sense her trembling excitement.

Kiss her.
The voice in his head shouted at him, but he found himself strangely reluctant to listen. It would be so easy to lean down and press his lips against hers. She would not resist, nay she appeared curious, eager for his embrace.

Yet the idea of pressing his attention on her caused a tightness in his chest that made no sense. He had been seducing women since his voice had deepened, but something about kissing this sweet girl left him feeling like a lecher. For all
his experience, he had never been a man who was comfortable toying with a woman’s emotions, especially a girl as young and innocent as Bianca.

She was beautiful, yet he felt no desire for her. He was uncertain whether it was her age, or her innocence, or perhaps even her connection to the infamous Earl of Hetfield that brought on this feeling. Yet whatever the cause, the result was clear—he could not go through with it.

Abruptly he pulled away. This he had
not
expected. Turmoil raged in Sebastian’s chest. For a long moment he stared out into the darkened garden, one hand resting on his hip, the other rubbing the pain that had formed at the base of his neck.

A torrent of emotion surged through Sebastian. Anger, frustration, disappointment. He had set the course for the perfect plan of revenge but now found it impossible to follow the track.

He could hear Bianca’s rapid breathing, could sense her confusion, but it was nothing compared to the anger he was feeling. For a moment he held his breath, wishing he had never started this crazy scheme, more angry than he could fathom upon discovering he was unable to complete it.

“We should go inside, before we are missed,” he said flatly.

She blinked her eyes in confusion. “Already?”

Sebastian uttered a curse beneath his breath and lowered his head to meet her gaze. He hadn’t anticipated such a stricken look. Hell, he wasn’t all that impressive a man. Still, a female as young and gullible as Bianca was bound to find him attractive.

“‘Tis most improper for us to stay out here
unchaperoned for so long,” he said, trying to keep his voice even and calm. “I’m sure your sister will be distressed by your absence.”

Her cheeks brightened to a deep red, visible even in the moonlight, so strong he could practically feel the heat of her blush. “We haven’t been gone that long,” she replied tightly.

“Long enough.” He drew himself up to his full height, clicking his heels. Hesitating only a moment, Sebastian stiffly held out his arm. She glanced down at it, then glanced away. She didn’t move. “Are you coming, Lady Bianca? Or do you prefer to enjoy the night air in solitude?”

A peculiar look crossed her features. Sebastian wondered briefly if she was going to display a fit of temper and he almost wished for it, as it would give him a chance to vent his own frustration. But ever the lady, Bianca wordlessly rose from the bench, the only sign of her annoyance her refusal to take his arm.

Silently, Sebastian grabbed her elbow and guided her back toward the house, moving at such a rapid pace he was practically dragging her. They had crossed the terrace when suddenly he heard Bianca gasp. He glanced up and saw her sister framed in the doorway.

“Lady Eleanor!” Sebastian exclaimed. “Hellfire, you gave me a fright.”

Her mouth tightened. “I apologize if my appearance is so alarming, my lord.”

Sebastian stiffened his spine and forced a smile. “I was not alarmed, ma’am, merely startled.”

She let out a sigh. “I was wondering what happened to Bianca.”

“I was walking with the viscount, Eleanor.” Lady Bianca lowered her lashes as another blush of pink crept along her cheeks. “But the chill of the damp air brought us back.”

“Lady Dorothea was just starting to serve tea,” Lady Eleanor said. “I’m sure a cup will warm you.”

The words had barely fallen from her sister’s lips before Lady Bianca lifted the hem of her skirt and scurried inside. Sebastian expected Lady Eleanor to follow her sister, but instead she remained on the terrace.

Not wanting his hackles to rise any further, Sebastian took himself off to a corner of the terrace. Better to be rude than boorish. Removing a thin silver case from his pocket, he extracted a cheroot and placed it between his teeth. Rooting through his other pockets, he located his flint box, then lit the end.