A Little Bit Sinful (6 page)

She appeared fresh and innocent and slightly nervous. He could detect her nerves by the way her head was constantly turning every which way as she took in the scene around her. Every few moments she would turn toward the woman standing beside her and say something. The subsequent answers given invariably made her smile.
Interesting.

Sebastian was surprised she was not surrounded by a bevy of eager young bucks, each clamoring for her attention. Fashionably dressed or not, she
was easily one of the most attractive females in the room.

The Earl of Hetfield approached and Sebastian’s mood turned sour. The young beauty turned, smiled, then affectionately patted the earl’s arm. He leaned close and whispered something in her ear. Her smile widened further.

A haze fell over Sebastian’s vision. The picture of a doting father with his daughter tore at something deep inside him. Here was the earl, free to indulge himself in parental affection while Sebastian’s mother was forever denied that joy.

Noting again with bitterness the apparent affection between the pair, a devious thought suddenly struck Sebastian. This lovely, innocent, virginal girl could hold the key to his revenge. The earl might not wish to defend his honor over a pair of cards, but he most certainly would risk all to save his daughter from ruin.

Sebastian was pricked by his elusive conscience, but only for a brief instant. This female was a means to an end and if it was the only way to achieve his revenge, then so be it.

His experience with females was almost legendary, yet Sebastian prided himself on the fact that he had always behaved like a gentleman. The various mistresses he had kept over the years had been amply rewarded financially and always treated with dignity.

The numerous affairs he had engaged in had always been with willing society women of experience who knew fully the consequences of their actions. They knew he would not marry them; indeed, often they were already married.

There had been several widows who had campaigned
to be his viscountess, but he had made his views on matrimony very clear—he planned to stay single until he was at least forty. Even the constant badgering from his grandmother to take a wife had not altered this stand.

He had never outwardly lied to a lady, nor made promises he had no intention of keeping. And he most definitely had never seduced an innocent girl and then cast her aside.

There’s always a first time.

Many a duel had been fought to preserve or restore a daughter’s honor. Especially a young, innocent daughter. Sebastian grimaced.

Seducing the redheaded beauty would not be easy, since he would need to keep it a secret from the earl. After the incident this evening in the card room, Hetfield would naturally be suspicious of him. However, if he succeeded in ruining the girl in the eyes of society—and Sebastian was highly confident he would succeed—the earl would have no choice but to defend his family’s honor.

Sebastian gazed again at his pretty young victim. Something jabbed inside him at the thought of what she would suffer. The censure of many, the relentless whispers of the gossipmongers, a scandal that would forever plague her. Yet beautiful women, he reasoned, always seemed to find their bearing and achieve their goals. Some man would eventually marry her, despite her tarnished reputation, and count himself lucky to have such a lovely wife.

At least she would escape with her life, which was far more than his poor mother. For a split second he worried that rationalization was solely to ease his
conscience, but just as quickly, Sebastian tossed it out of his mind.

The earl laughed loudly at something his daughter said. Sebastian’s lips also quirked upward, though his smile held no humor. His grandmother had been wrong. Vengeance was not for the Lord, but rather man’s work. Sebastian knew the only hope he had to bring some measure of peace to his life was to strike back at the man who had caused his pain.

And now he had found a way to do it.

Eleanor became aware of the intense stare of the man across the room as the third waltz of the evening was played. He strolled the perimeter of the ballroom, yet his eyes never wavered. There was a determined, methodic edge to his scrutiny that was slightly alarming, for it seemed to go deeper than polite interest.

Naturally, this attention was not directed at her, but rather at Bianca. No one ever noticed the moon when the sun was shining so brightly. Normally, interest in Bianca from a handsome man would be welcome, but Eleanor had not been impressed by any of the gentlemen who had pressed forward for an introduction this evening.

The majority had been older, some as old as their father. A few had a desperate air about them, two greeted her with a lascivious smile, another openly leered at Bianca as he held her hand too long. This would most certainly not have happened if the earl had been there to offer Bianca support and protection, but he abandoned them soon after
they arrived. He had briefly returned to check on them and just as swiftly removed himself outside for a smoke.

Eleanor shuddered to think how Bianca would have managed without her. As it was, it felt like her lovely, innocent sister was a lamb thrown to the wolves.

Though she did not voice any distress, Eleanor could see that Bianca was very nervous. Not so much for herself, Bianca had confided as they entered the ballroom, but her younger sister was mostly concerned about disappointing or displeasing their father. She was anxious that she would inadvertently make a misstep or appear awkward.

It angered Eleanor to see how much her sister cared, especially when contrasted with how little concern their father showed in return. Eleanor sighed, trying to control her anger, knowing it would only serve to distress Bianca. Attempting to distract it, she looked about the room. And realized the same gentleman was still staring at Bianca.

His eyes had a predatory look of a hunter on the scent of fresh meat. That hungry gaze of interest set the alarm bells clanging loudly in Eleanor’s head.

She shifted her position to stand protectively in front of her sister and for a brief instant his eyes met Eleanor’s across the room. An unexpected wave of heat flushed through her body. An odd reaction, surely, for though he was a handsome man, there were others in attendance possessing greater physical beauty.

He was tall, taller than most men she knew, with broad shoulders, muscular legs, and not an ounce of extra fat on his lean torso. His hair was dark and
thick, his eyes the color of a stormy gray sky. The serene smile on his sensuous mouth softened the strong, bold lines of his face and enhanced his natural charm.

He was dressed in a black evening coat with black satin knee breeches, a gold embroidered waistcoat, a white shirt, and an intricately tied white cravat. He wore his clothes with a casual elegance that proclaimed him a man of great self-confidence and pride.

Eleanor scrunched her brows into a scowl, hoping to chase away his scrutiny, then realized his gaze was no longer on them. His eyes were darting about the crowded ballroom. Perhaps looking for his partner for the next dance?

A laughing group of guests stepped in front of him, and her view of him was gone. Shaking her head at her foolishness, Eleanor turned to her sister.

“Are you getting hungry? ‘Tis nearly time for the supper dance. If I remember correctly that means the food has already been placed in the dining room. If we go now we can avoid the crush.”

Bianca slowly shook her head. “I know you told me at these affairs the food is plentiful and lavish, but honestly, Eleanor, I couldn’t swallow a bite.”

“I understand.”

Eleanor patted her sister’s arm soothingly before noticing out of the corner of her eye that the handsome stranger was coming toward them. And he was not alone. Perched on his arm was a matronly woman dressed all in black. She was frowning in confusion as she took two quick steps to each of the mystery man’s one. Eleanor decided she had to be a relative. What other woman would tolerate such manhandling?

The pair was heading directly toward them. Eleanor opened her fan and waved it absently before her face, hoping Bianca had not noticed these two. She was already a bundle of nerves. The attention of this arresting gentleman might push her over the edge.

“Ladies, I am sorry to interrupt, but the viscount is most insistent that I make an introduction.”

Eleanor watched the older woman’s bosom expand mightily as she sought to control her rapid breathing. The delay caused the gentleman’s impatience to rise and he pressed himself forward.

“I am Benton,” he said, fixing Bianca with a steady look as he bowed.

“Such impertinence, Lord Benton!” the older woman beside him exclaimed, pressing a hand over her still-heaving bosom. “Have your manners gone totally missing? You hauled me all the way over here so quickly one would think we were fleeing a fire. The very least you can do is allow me to make the introductions. Properly.”

Lord Benton’s eyes flashed hard and dangerous, then settled into a contrite gleam. “My apologies, Lady Agatha.”

Lady Agatha harrumphed rather loudly. Eleanor would not have been surprised to see the older woman storm off in a huff, but then she noticed Lord Benton’s hand clutching Lady Agatha’s arm, preventing her escape.

With all eyes on her, Lady Agatha rose grandly to the occasion. “Now then, ladies, I would like to present Sebastian Dodd, Viscount Benton. These two enchanting creatures are the daughters of the Earl of Hetfield. Lady Eleanor and Lady Bianca.”

Eleanor and Bianca curtsied, the viscount bowed.
Eleanor found herself gazing at his face, her eyes drawn to the strong line of his jaw, the firm, sensuous shape of his mouth. He had such marvelously appealing lips. She wondered what it would feel like to be kissed by him, to squeeze those broad, muscular shoulders as his lips brushed hers.

“Lady Eleanor?”

Blinking in embarrassment, Eleanor inhaled a shaky breath. What was wrong with her? The viscount clearly had no interest in her. Besides, such improper, risqué thoughts about a virtual stranger were ridiculous—and very much out of her character. “I beg your pardon, Lady Agatha. I did not hear your question.”

Though Eleanor could have sworn it had been a female voice that was talking, it was the viscount who spoke.

“Lady Agatha and I were wondering why we have not seen either of you in Town.”

“Bianca and I usually reside at our home in the country,” she answered. “We have only recently arrived.”

“How fortunate. Your presence adds the beauty we were missing and will serve to elevate the Season to a spectacular level,” he said grandly.

Eleanor nearly rolled her eyes at the flowery sentiment. “London hardly lacks for beautiful women, my lord.”

“Pretty, perhaps. Yet none quite as lovely as the two of you.” He spoke the words to her, since she had answered him, but it was plain to all that he meant them for Bianca. “I believe there are many gentlemen who will take umbrage with the earl for delaying your arrival in Town.”

“I have a suspicion that the earl is the type of man who keeps his most precious things hidden away, out of sight,” Lady Agatha interjected with a superior smirk.

Bianca lowered her head modestly. Eleanor smiled dimly, relieved that a female’s vapid smile was usually taken as a sign of agreement. Precious things! How preposterous. Why, if they knew the truth about the earl’s treatment of his daughters they would be appalled.

So tell them.
A devilish urge of honesty was something that plagued Eleanor at the most inconvenient times. As much as she would have liked to dispel this myth about their father, it would hurt and embarrass her sister. Not to mention enlightening any of these people as to her father’s true character would be social suicide.

“Now that we have been properly introduced, I shall shamelessly beg for the honor of a dance,” Lord Benton said. “Lady Bianca?”

Bianca looked down at the viscount’s extended hand, then over at Eleanor. Heart fluttering with worry, Eleanor eyed the viscount suspiciously. The faint lines at the corners of his eyes told her he was too old for her gentle sister, the arrogance in his sensual smile bespoke of a sophistication way beyond Bianca’s comprehension.

But Bianca’s eyes were pleading with her to agree. She had promised herself she would be vigilant, yet not unreasonable with the men who paid court to her sister. So Eleanor nodded her head in permission.

Bianca’s face broke into a smile. “I shall be delighted to dance with you, my lord.”

In silence, Eleanor and Lady Agatha watched the pair walk away. “What can you tell me about the viscount?” Eleanor asked the moment the couple took their place in line for the quadrille.

The older woman nodded in understanding. “A handsome devil, is he not? And more than charming, especially when the mood suits him.”

“Unmarried?”

“Of course. I would not have made the introduction if he were a married man.” Lady Agatha lifted her chin and let out an offended sniff. “He has an old and distinguished title. The Dodds were royalists who fought beside King Charles and were rewarded handsomely for their loyalty when the throne was reclaimed. On his mother’s side he can trace his ancestry back to the Conqueror, though there is rumored to be some Welsh blood mixed in several generations ago.”

Lady Agatha’s tone implied that was not a desirable connection, but Eleanor dismissed it as insignificant. “I do not want a list of his pedigree, Lady Agatha. What of his character? Is he a good man?”

“Good? Why, he is good at many things. An excellent rider, a keen shot, a fashionable dresser, as you can plainly see. He runs with a bit of a fast crowd, though that part of his life is clearly changing. His close friend the Marquess of Atwood married last year and has settled well into domesticity.”

Eleanor had difficulty picturing Lord Benton doing the same. Still, it could happen. She digested the information thoughtfully. “So you believe it is
Viscount Benton’s intention to follow his friend’s lead and marry?”

Lady Agatha shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “I have heard nothing specific about Benton actively seeking a bride this Season. But a man of his years must be thinking about settling down and setting up his nursery. I know it was his grandmother’s fondest wish. What better way to honor her recent passing than to marry a suitable young woman?”