A Matter of Sin (5 page)

She could only hope Seth would do the same. Tonight, at the gathering after supper, it had been clear he
knew
someone had taken the book, as did his smirking friend, Lord Northfield. They had been playing at some kind of investigation right there in the drawing room, teasing the person who had taken the item with no thought to their…
her
feelings.

It was all very ungentlemanly.

However, that fact had not stopped her from picturing Seth while she pleasured herself a second time.

Straightening her shoulders, she marched into the library, leaving the door open so there would be a little light from the hallway to serve as her guide. At the table where she had stood the night before, she paused and slipped the book from where she had secreted it away in the folds of her skirts.

Setting it on the tabletop, she stared at the shape of it in the darkness. How she regretted letting it go when she had hardly had the time to fully explore and enjoy it.

When she returned to London, she was going to have to find a way to discreetly obtain a copy of her own. Perhaps Grace could help, since she seemed to know a way around everything and everyone.

With a sigh, she turned to go, but she had not even completed her first step when in the darkness, a figure rose from a chair across the room. The scratch of flint grated on Isabel’s ears and then a candle glowed with light and revealed the person who had found her lurking. Unfortunately, it was the same person who had found her the night before.

Lyndham.

Her heart leapt into her throat and her hands began to shake as he moved toward her, his light lifted as if he was trying to examine her face. The urge to run filled her, to hide her humiliation in her bed and then maybe even return to London where she wouldn’t have to see this man ever again.

In the dimness, the corners of his lips lifted slightly and he
smirked
at her. Her humiliation, which had burned so hotly, faded as she looked at his smug countenance. It was instantly replaced by another emotion: irritation.

She folded her arms as he came to a stop just a step away from her.

“My lord,” she said, pleased that her tone could be so icy.

His smirk broadened. “My lady. We are making a habit of these late night rendezvous.”

She didn’t move, even though he had leaned closer as he spoke and his voice was rough and seductive. Her anger faded, but she forced it back to the surface.

“Indeed,” she said, perhaps less forcefully than she would have liked. “But I assure you this will be the
last
time we shall meet like this.”

One dark brow arched and he tilted his head slightly. “Oh? That is a true disappointment. But as you say this is the last time we shall do this, it would be ungentlemanly of me not to offer you some assistance tonight. Is there something you were looking for? Something you need?”

She swallowed. Had he moved closer again? He seemed larger now, and her treacherous mind was determined to flash to all the fantasies she had indulged in while she read that dratted book. Why oh why had she allowed herself to think of this man? Now he was a distraction of the highest order.

With a shake of her head, Isabel attempted focus once more. She had to recall that the marquis was taunting her in a most impolite fashion. He
wanted
her to be all twisted up and nervous; he was somehow enjoying seeing her squirm. Only she had one way to turn the tables and perhaps make him do the same. One way to defuse his power over her. A way Grace would be most proud of.

She lifted her gaze and met his, almost overpowered by the way the light caught in his bright, blue eyes. Dear God, he was beautiful.

But no…focus! She had to focus.

“Oh no, sir,” she said, her tone gaining strength with each word. “I have fulfilled my purpose in coming here tonight. There is nothing I require.”

“Your purpose?” he asked with a chuckle in his tone. “And what was that?”

She reached behind her and found the copy of
The Ladies Book of Pleasures
on the table. Lifting it, she said, “Why, I was returning your book, Lord Lyndham.” She held it out to him, and he took it with his wide eyes. “You seemed to be in quite a bad way about it tonight when you and Lord Northfield were going on and on about it. I assumed that meant you missed it.”

He didn’t speak, but stared down at first the book and then toward her. She smiled. Good. She had shocked him by admitting what he was so ruthlessly teasing her about.

“Oh,” he finally said after what seemed like eternity had passed with nothing but stunned silence between them.

She shrugged, starting to enjoy her own brand of torture just as much as he had apparently enjoyed his earlier. “It
is
the talk of the
ton
, my lord. I had to know what all the fuss was about.”

Once again, he was silent. In fact, his only response to her statement was to set the book back down on the table where she had retrieved it. His eyes never left her, his gaze never lost any focus.

And the triumph Isabel had felt in shocking him began to fade. He seemed so stunned now that she was beginning to doubt herself. Perhaps he
hadn’t
believed her to be the culprit after all. Perhaps he was not shocked by her boldness, but by her inappropriateness.

If that was true, she might have just made the biggest mistake of her life. And Serena’s.

She swallowed. “I-I hope you will not judge my sister poorly because of my outrageous behavior, Lord Lyndham.”

This time she was certain he moved closer. His chest nearly touched hers and heat radiated from him, washing over her.

“My lady,” he whispered, his voice even rougher now that it was soft. “I assure you, the last thing I was thinking about in this moment was your sister.”

Isabel gasped at the implication of those words and realized that the sharp intake of breath was the first one she had taken in quite some time. Her hands and knees began to shake.

This situation was spiraling out of control, and she had to exit from it immediately.

“I-I should—”

She stepped back, but he caught her wrist and held her where she stood. “Wait…wait… Why did you take the book? It was something more than just mere curiosity, wasn’t it?”

Isabel turned her face. To her surprise, humiliation did not return, but the heat in her cheeks did. She couldn’t tell this man, this near stranger,
that
!

“I don’t know,” she said, tugging on her wrist to free herself.

He let her go immediately, but stepped in her way so that she couldn’t flee the room. “You must know.”

She wanted to look up at him, but feared that doing so would allow him to see everything she was fighting so hard to hide. Her longing. Her loneliness. Her desires.

So she didn’t look at him as she whispered, “My lord,
please
—”

“Isabel,” he murmured.

Her eyes lifted in surprise. The previous night she thought he might have used her given name, but there was no denying it this time. And she loved hearing it roll from his tongue. He said it like he was savoring a sweet treat, like it was a precious word.

She stared at him as he stared through her, into her very soul. She didn’t want to tell him her secret, she didn’t want to say why she had taken the naughty book, but something compelled her to reveal herself. There was some odd, intense connection between them despite their utter inappropriateness for each other.

“I-I took it because it has been a long time and I—” She heard her voice making the terrible confession and she cut herself off and dipped her chin down in embarrassment.

Suddenly she felt the rough slide of his fingers on her skin as he cupped her chin and urged her to look back up at him. Urged her to meet his gaze, which seemed so intense and yet so gentle and nonjudgmental now.

“Tell me,” he insisted.

She sucked in a sobbing breath. “I wanted to remember desire and pleasure and—”

She had more to say, more depths of her soul to mine, but he didn’t allow it. Without preamble, he bent his head and suddenly his mouth was on hers.

For the first few seconds of the unexpected kiss, Isabel was too surprised to react. Her mind raced, overwhelmed by questions and denials and fears about what exactly was happening to her.

But then Seth’s lips shifted ever so slightly, his tongue traced the crease of her mouth, and that subtle movement changed everything.

Isabel melted. She’d heard others describe a kiss that melted them before, but this was the first time she’d ever experienced it personally. It was as if her bones liquefied, her blood burned, her muscles vanished and all that was left was feeling. Pleasure washed over her so intensely that it overrode anything else in her mind.

Without meaning to, Isabel lifted her hands, tightening her fingers around Seth’s upper arms and leaning into him to get more. More of this feeling, more of his taste and his scent as their bodies brushed against each other.

There was nothing demanding in the kiss, no claiming, and Isabel realized she could end it whenever she desired. Only she felt no such need. She opened her lips fully and Seth’s tongue merged with hers in a sweet tangle of desire that made her cling to him all the more tightly.

God, she hadn’t felt this way in so long. Actually, she wasn’t certain she had
ever
felt so hot and needy. Not with an elderly husband to look after and her sisters to manage and marry off.

That thought pierced her mind and Isabel froze. Her sisters. Her
sister
to be more precise. Serena’s well-being depended upon her having a respected chaperone. If Isabel gave in to this desire that had suddenly reared its head within her, she risked stealing her sister’s future in the process.

With a start, she extracted herself from Seth’s arms and backed away. Her heart was throbbing, beating so hard against her chest that it physically hurt with every pulse. She stared at him with wide eyes. He looked as disheveled and stunned as she felt.

“I—” she said, but realized she had no words to finish the sentence she had begun. So instead of speaking, she caught her skirt in her fist and hurried from the room.

Chapter Five

“Sometimes we are under the illusion of control.”
—The Ladies Book of Pleasures

Seth sat at his desk, absently toying with a quill. Jason stood, looking out the window across the wide expanse of the grounds beyond the house.

“You have been distracted beyond measure all morning,” Jason finally said as he turned on his heel. “Since you intended to wait out our thief last night, I must deduce you have discovered who took your copy of
The Ladies Book of Pleasures
. I have suffered in silence long enough. You must tell me, who was it?”

Seth shut his eyes briefly, flashing back, as he had been all morning, to the searing, powerful kiss he had shared with Isabel. It had never been his intention to do such a thing, but great God, what a kiss it had been. Soft, sensual, her responsiveness wild and wanton in a way that set him on his heels and made his body ache every time he recalled it.

“Lyndham?” Jason asked. “Are you alive in there?”

Seth looked at his friend. There was no way he was going to talk to Jason about that stolen moment. His friend would only tease and cajole him mercilessly about it.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I think it may have only been a maid after all. I actually found the book on a shelf last night. Perhaps it was never stolen at all, but only put away by my staff,” he lied.

“Ah,” Jason sighed, his disappointment clear on his face. “That is too bad. I was so hoping it
would
turn out to be the lovely Widow Avenbury, or even her delightful younger sister. It was my last prospect at making this party bearable.”

Seth glared at his friend. Jason liked women too much. If he thought one interesting, he might pursue her just for fun and Seth didn’t like the idea of him doing that to Isabel. Or worse, that she might like it.

“Lady Avenbury isn’t your type,” he said, a bit more sharply than he had intended. “And her sister isn’t looking to be ruined in one of my gardens; she is seeking a marriage.”

Jason pursed his lips at Seth’s peevish tone. “As are you, in case you have forgotten.”

Seth rolled his eyes. “You keep saying that. But what makes you think I have forgotten this duty laid at my feet?”

Jason examined him more closely. “Have you any interest in any of the suitable young ladies paraded before you as potential brides? I haven’t seen you look twice at any of them. The only one you’ve expressed an interest in is a
chaperone
. And there is something in your eyes that tells me the altar isn’t where your interest truly lies, especially with Isabel.” Jason folded his arms. “But perhaps I’m wrong.”

Seth pushed to his feet and paced away. His friend saw too much, but Seth couldn’t admit to his failings.

“You
are
wrong,” he insisted, more to convince himself than his friend. “I could no more forget my duty is to marry than I could forget my name.”

Jason paced closer. “But will you pursue duty at the expense of your own happiness?”

Seth pivoted to face his friend with a snort of derision. “Oh, please! As if you care a whit for my ‘happiness’. You only care that if I marry you might lose a gambling partner.”

To his surprise, Jason began to laugh. “That may be true.”

Seth grinned, glad that the tension between them had been cut a fraction. They were treading too close to emotions he spent a great deal of time ignoring.

Jason clapped a hand on his shoulder. “I hope you don’t truly believe that I care nothing for your happiness.”

“We have been friends too long for me to ever believe that,” Seth admitted. “You care for me in your own utterly selfish way.”

Jason chuckled. “Indeed. I would like to say one thing more about this subject and then I shall let it go.”

Seth sighed, but waved his hand for Jason to continue if he must.

“When your brother died—”

Seth flinched.

Jason’s tone softened. “When all this responsibility became yours to bear, I saw you change, and not only in good ways. I hope you don’t give up all that you are for a title that was never meant for you.”

Seth stared at Jason. They
had
been friends for almost as long as he could remember, but this was a new development.

“I’ve never heard you speak like this,” he said.

Jason shrugged, but the more serious expression was gone from his face. “I have surprising depth, you know. Now, let us join the ladies for luncheon on the veranda. Perhaps you are right that Lady Avenbury and her sister are not the ones for me, but there must be
some
woman in this group who will entertain me.”

Seth followed his friend from the room with a laugh, but it hid his concern. Jason had hit closer to the mark than perhaps he knew with his words about Lady Avenbury. And after last night’s kiss, Seth realized his life had just become infinitely more complicated.

Grace smiled at Isabel. “You needn’t look so pensive, my dear. Your sister is making a very good impression.”

Isabel started as she actually focused on what her empty eyes had been staring at. She
was
looking at Serena, who was standing across the sunny veranda chatting with some of the party attendees. She was smiling and laughing and being utterly charming. Grace was correct—her sister was making the best of impressions.

And yet, as much as Isabel should have been celebrating that fact, it had not been the thing on her mind. No, her treacherous brain had instead been focused on other thoughts. Sinful memories of a searing hot kiss that had tempted and taunted her and kept her up to toss and turn in her bed before she finally gave in and pleasured herself.

Her cheeks heated at the mere thought of such a thing, warm enough that even the cool breeze coming through the trees couldn’t ease her.

“Isabel, are you well?” Grace asked as her slender, elegant fingers tightened around Isabel’s arm for support.

Isabel jerked out a nod. “Of course I am. And you are—you are correct. Serena is doing very well. I’m not worried about her future in the least.”

Unless her own actions ruined Serena…

Grace squeezed her arm gently. “You may not be worried about your sister, but you
are
worried about something. Your eyes are quite wild. Won’t you tell me what it is?”

Isabel hesitated. She had always been open with her friends, but now she wasn’t certain she could confess what she had allowed to happen in the library.

“Please tell me you aren’t still worried about that book,” Grace whispered when Isabel hadn’t filled the silence after her question.

Isabel swallowed. The book. Oh, the book was the least of her worries now, though she did find herself thinking of it from time to time, wishing she could have explored it more closely.

“No,” she forced past suddenly dry lips. “I returned it last night.”

“Oh.” Grace’s face fell unexpectedly, almost as if that news brought her some kind of disappointment. “I see. Then I suppose you’ll now return to your normal ‘duties’?”

“Hmmm,” Isabel murmured, noncommittal as she thought of the question.

After a night like last night, could one go back to some kind of normalcy? In time, could she force herself to forget that kiss?

Suddenly Grace’s hand tightened on her arm and her friend gave her a little shake. When Isabel looked at her, she found Grace was staring at her in obvious concern and undeniable curiosity.

“What is wrong with you, Isabel?” her friend hissed below her breath. “You are acting so strangely, I’m becoming alarmed. Shall I call for a doctor?”

Isabel drew in a breath to reassure Grace of her health, but before she could say the words, the veranda doors opened wide and Lord Lyndham stepped onto the stony terrace with his friend Lord Northfield right behind him.

All words died on Isabel’s lips at the sight of him, and the world slowed to half time as she stared. He said something to the crowd at large, but Isabel didn’t hear it. She was too focused on the fascinating way his lips moved. Now that she had felt them against her own, they were all she could see or think about.

“Isabel,” Grace growled.

She turned to look at her friend. Her best friend. The one person who had never judged her, not even when she’d confessed her darkest feelings or her deepest urges.

Grace knew more about the world than she did, and it was clear Isabel was wildly over her head in this situation. Her only hope was to tell Grace what had happened and obtain her help in forgetting that kiss.

But Serena was coming toward her now, flanked by the Marchioness of Crestwood and her charge, a maiden niece named Jessica or Jesabel or Jocelyn or some such thing. Once they arrived, there would be no whispering the truth, and Isabel feared her head might explode.

She turned back to Grace. “I must tell you something in the strictest of confidence.”

Grace drew back from the wildness Isabel was certain was all over her face. Then she nodded. “Very well.”

“Last night—” Isabel shot a look over her shoulder.

Serena and the others had been briefly waylaid by a conversation, but they were still almost too close for her to finish her tale. She quickened her words.

“Last night when I returned the book, Seth…” She bit back a curse. She must stop thinking of him and referring to him by his given name. “
Lord Lyndham
discovered me.”

“Again? You are unlucky,” Grace laughed.

Isabel ignored her friend’s chuckle. “We kissed.”

Her friend’s laughter trailed off and now Grace stared at her. Isabel shifted. Her friend’s expression was impossible to read. Grace just looked at her, even and emotionless, as if she was taking in what Isabel had said.

Serena and her party were steps away now, but that didn’t stop Grace from finally speaking. “And how was it?”

Isabel’s mouth dropped open in shock. “That is what you are asking me?
That
is your response?”

“Hello!” Serena said with a warm smile as she reached the two women.

Isabel shrugged off her reaction to Grace and turned to her sister with a warm smile. “Hello, dearest.”

“I’m surprised you aren’t already seated,” her sister said with a laugh. “Lord Lyndham said they would serve in moments.”

Isabel blinked. Was that what he had said?

Grace smiled. “We were waiting for you,” she explained as she motioned to the table near them. “I believe this is where our small party is to be seated. After you, Lady Crestwood. And you are Miss Jocelyn, are you not?”

Serena answered for the other young woman. “She is indeed, and don’t you think that is the most fetching dress?”

Isabel smiled as the group took their seats. Grace was seated next to Isabel, and on the opposite side of her was the marchioness. The two younger girls were seated across from them.

“It is lovely,” Isabel replied with a warm smile for the young woman at her sister’s side. The girl blushed and she moved her fingers across the fabric of her gown reflexively.

Serena had always been quick to recognize a shunned or shy outsider and, to her credit, always did her best to make them welcome. It was one of the aspects Isabel loved most about her sister.

“Th-thank you, my lady,” the younger woman stammered. “The m-marchioness was very kind to assist me this Season.”

The marchioness smiled as the two younger girls began to chat about gowns and balls.

Grace leaned forward. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Isabel shot her friend a look. “Is this the appropriate time?” she whispered with a pointed look toward the girls and the marchioness.

Grace arched a brow and Isabel sighed. She was not going to have peace until Grace heard the answer she required.

“Very well,” Isabel whispered. “It was the best thing I’ve ever felt in my life. I’ve never experienced anything like it.”

“Oh, what is that, my dear?” the marchioness asked, turning toward the women.

Isabel flushed. Somehow she had believed the marchioness did not have particularly good hearing, but apparently that was nothing but rumor and innuendo.

“I—” she began, her eyes wide.

“The sun, my lady,” Grace filled in smoothly. “Isabel and I were just commenting on its marvelous warmth today. I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything like it, especially so early in the Season.”

Isabel smiled in relief. Grace might have put her in this awkward situation by forcing her to speak about the kiss she shared with Seth, but at least she was also willing to save her with a lie that actually sounded somewhat reasonable.

And clearly Lady Crestwood believed that had been their topic, for she nodded with great gusto.

“Oh, my yes. It is the loveliest early summer we have had in ages. But I believe the weather is made even more appealing by our surroundings.” She waved one plump hand around them. “This is a beautiful estate. Whomever Lord Lyndham chooses as his bride will be a lucky lady indeed.”

The marchioness sent a pointed look first to her own charge, who shifted uncomfortably, and then toward a beaming Serena. Isabel clenched her fists under the table before she forced herself to relax. Of course the marchioness would encourage the younger women when it came to Seth.
They
were exactly what a man like him required in a bride.

Serena laughed, and the light sound relaxed Isabel, if only momentarily. “My, yes, his bride will certainly want for nothing.” Serena dropped her voice conspiratorially. “And is he not a most well-favored gentleman, as well?”

Isabel’s calmed emotions immediately elevated back to their earlier heights as she glanced sharply at her sister. The idea that Serena was looking at Seth in such a fashion troubled her.

“There is more to a man than looks,” she scolded, her tone far more sharp than perhaps the situation warranted. Especially since she herself had been drawn in, even distracted, by Seth’s appearance.

Beneath the table, Isabel felt Grace’s hand cover hers and give a gentle squeeze, but she shook the comforting gesture away. She didn’t want to be appeased, she just wanted these feelings, these odd desires, to go away! They were most inopportune.

Serena’s laughter faded and she dropped her gaze to her plate. “Of course I realize that,” she said softly. “If I was glib, I apologize.”