A Taste of Temptation (13 page)

Olivia huffed at his audacity. “Sir, you are positively wicked.”

He smiled at her and this time it wasn’t forced. It was more of that charming smile she’d seen a hint of when she told him she was looking for a ghost. The tightness that was in his features had evaporated, too, and she saw nothing but a very handsome man who set her pulse to racing standing in front of her.

“You have no idea, Miss Banning, how wicked I can be, but the time is coming when I will show you.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Yes.”

“After the mauling you gave me last night, I think I have a fairly good idea of what you could show me,” she challenged him.

“Mauling?” Lord Dugdale chuckled again.

She loved looking at his face in laughter. There was a quality about his face that set her heart to fluttering.

His eyes swept up and down her face so intimately that her stomach quivered with anticipation.

“Don’t tempt me to prove to you just how much you enjoyed being in my arms.”

“I have no desire to tempt you concerning anything, my lord.”

“We’re attracting more attention than I anticipated.

Come walk with me to the buffet room and I’ll get you a glass of punch, or would you prefer champagne?”

“If I’m going to be talking to you I think I need something stronger than punch or champagne.” Lord Dugdale chuckled again and for some strange reason the sound peppered her with shivers of anticipation. He wasn’t even trying to be nice to her, so why did she find him so enthralling?

She fell into step beside him, the top of her head reaching just above his shoulder. She realized she felt quite comfortable walking beside this dashingly handsome man, and she couldn’t help but notice that some people they passed openly watched them while others whispered behind fans and hands.

“I don’t know how you can laugh about this, my lord.

It’s really quite distressing.”

“It’s preferable to the alternative.”

“I think that is the first thing we’ve agreed on.”

“Perhaps we’re making progress.”

“We need to. We have a disaster on our hands. My aunt has decided to take her job as my guardian very seriously.”

“I know. I’ve come to the conclusion that I must make the best of a disagreeable situation. No matter the circumstances that brought us together, I have only one honorable choice open to me. I must marry you.” Olivia gasped and stopped so quickly a man who was following them ran into her from behind. Lord Dugdale quickly slid an arm around her waist and pulled her against his chest.

She felt his heat, the strength in his large, steadying hands as they held her. She smelled the scent of his soap and she heard his growled oath to the man who immediately apologized and hurried away.

Lord Dugdale slowly let go of her and stepped away.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes, of course,” she mumbled and continued walking.

Her thoughts were reeling. His words echoed in her mind as he led her into the buffet room and picked up a glass of champagne for both of them.

“Let’s move over here,” he said and ushered her to an area that wasn’t crowded with people.

Olivia took the glass straight away and sipped from it.

The champagne was so soothing to her tattered sensibilities that she quickly took another sip. She had to calm herself and think about the consequences of what he’d just said. It was one thing for her aunt to insist on marriage, quite another for Lord Dugdale to fancy the idea of it.

She looked up at the earl and said, “I thought you were going to fight this crazy notion my aunt has of us marrying.”

“That was my first plan, as you well know. However, after much thought, I must do the honorable thing. Under the circumstances the only thing I can do is make you my wife.”

His words chilled her, and for a fleeting moment she thought they thrilled her as well. She looked into his eyes.

They were as serious as his tone and that told her he felt he had to marry her, but he didn’t have to like it.

She wasn’t sure how that made her feel.

“I don’t understand. Just this afternoon you accused me of being simple-minded or insane because I searched for Lord Pinkwater’s ghost.”

He lowered his lashes for a moment before looking at her again. “That was a bit harsh. Anyone can see that you are extremely intelligent, including me.” That wasn’t exactly an apology, but it was a concession she appreciated.

“Thank you.”

“The man in Kent who waits for you, are you wiling to give him up?”

Mr. Yost. He hadn’t crossed her mind all evening, but she didn’t want Lord Dugdale to know that. “I fear that circumstances give me no choice.”

His eyes narrowed, telling her he wasn’t exactly pleased with her answer. She didn’t know that she was, either. She would be giving up her dream to be the wife of a country squire to marry a handsome, titled lord whom she was certain would make her unhappy.

“I’ll apply for a special license tomorrow, and we’ll plan a small ceremony for one day next week. That should ful-fill my duty and satisfy your aunt.” She had always wanted to marry a man who wasn’t connected to the
ton
or titled and a man who loved her. Was she willing to give that up? Should she continue to fight this or, as Lord Dugdale had said, should she forget her dream and make the best of a disagreeable situation?

She was definitely attracted to the earl, much more than she should be considering his insufferable behavior. She couldn’t imagine that any other man’s kisses would make her feel the way Lord Dugdale’s had.

“I’m waiting for an answer,” he reminded her.

“It’s difficult, my lord.”

“It’s the only option, Miss Banning.”

“Next week,” she whispered. “It all seems so cold. I in no way envisioned my wedding to be a hurried, forced affair. I never dreamed I’d feel so melancholic when discussing my wedding.”

“A hasty marriage wasn’t on my list of things to do when I returned to London either. I’ll ask Aunt Claude to make all the necessary arrangements with your aunt. I’m afraid I have pressing business in London and I can’t get away for a honeymoon.”

“Thank God,” she whispered.

“Don’t sound so pleased, Miss Banning. We’ll have plenty of time alone together.”

She glanced up at him. “No offence intended, Lord Dugdale. I simply don’t relish the idea of leaving my aunt for a grand tour right now. She’s been very ill until recently, and she still has some problems and might need me.”

“Really? She looks to me like she’s never been sick a day in her life.”

Olivia was thinking more of her aunt’s mental state than her physical condition, but she couldn’t tell Lord Dugdale that.

“You would think that by looking at her, but believe me she’s not completely well, my lord.”

“Since we’re to be married next week, there’s no need for us to be formal. My name is Andrew.”

“All right.”

“Say it, Olivia. Say my name.”

Her skin prickled deliciously at his insistence. “Andrew.

Andrew,” she said a second time just to let him know she had no fear of using his name.

“That’s better, Olivia.”

Olivia looked around to see if anyone might be close enough to hear her before she softly asked, “Will you—I mean, do you plan to—” She stopped, not sure how to phrase what she wanted to say.

“Do I plan to what?”

Something in the way he looked at her let her know that he knew what she was trying to ask but he wasn’t going to help her. That gave her the courage to say what she wanted.

She lifted her shoulders and her chin and asked, “Do you plan to make this a real marriage?”

“In every sense of the word.”

Olivia swallowed hard at his suggestive words.

“As far as I know there is no other kind of marriage. I intend to take you to my bed. I will need a legitimate heir.

But don’t worry overly much. I’ll have my mistress dis-creetly on the side, and I’ll not to come to your bed often.”

Another unfamiliar feeling struck her chest. Was that jealousy? No, it couldn’t be. She didn’t even like this man, did she? But she liked even less the thought of him taking another woman to his bed, though she wouldn’t let him know that.

She lifted her chin defiantly and asked, “Should I thank you for that, Andrew?”

He leaned in close to her. A hint of a smile played on his lips. “You decide if you will thank me or curse me, after you’ve spent a night in my arms.”

His words caressed her as easily as a fine piece of silk.

She wished she didn’t find everything about him so intriguing, attractive, and appealing.

“You are an arrogant beast.”

“Remember that and don’t try to change me once we’ve wed. Finish your champagne, Olivia. We must dance at least once tonight, and twice would be better.” Olivia put the glass to her lips and polished off the contents in a most unladylike fashion and then wiped the last traces of the champagne off her lips with her tongue.

She looked directly into Andrew’s eyes and said, “People marry for many reasons, my lord. Unfortunately we are marrying because we had the poor judgment to exchange a few dull kisses.”

“Dull kisses? You do like to issue challenges, don’t you, Olivia?”

“I stated a fact.”
Just not a true fact,
she admitted to herself. She was immensely attracted to him.

“Then I’ll just have to prove you wrong, again, but maybe that’s what you want. For now you might as well put a smile on your face and act like you are enjoying my company. As of this moment, you and I are betrothed.”

“Some things are not possible, sir, but perhaps I could force myself to look happy if I imagine you on a stubborn ass somewhere in the Northern Country on a dark, cold, and stormy night, dripping wet.”

A hint of a smile touched his eyes before they turned serious once more. “What you don’t know, Olivia, is that I love cold, dark, and stormy nights.” 27239_ch01.001-297.qxd 9/19/05 6:09 PM Page 115

Nine

8

E
veryone in the
church knew it wasn’t a love match and no one was surprised when the wedding ceremony ended without a kiss. But that didn’t keep Olivia from feeling a little bereft that she hadn’t even received a chaste touching of Andrew’s lips against her cheek when they were pronounced man and wife.

She hadn’t come anywhere close to forgetting how the earl’s kisses had made her feel the night she was alone with him in his room despite her many attempts to do so. And she couldn’t stop the growing feeling that she wanted to experience those lovely sensations again. She was made even more aware of them as they silently rode in the carriage back to his house where the breakfast was to be held.

Olivia’s pearl-colored gown had been designed by her aunt. The neckline was low and the waist high, fitting tight underneath her breasts and banded by a thin satin ribbon.

The skimpy bodice was held together by straps that pulled up from the front and back and were tied into a simple bow on the top of each shoulder. The skirt was three slender cut pieces of tulle with a satin underskirt.

Olivia’s hair had been pulled loosely from her face and twisted into a neat chignon low on her nape. A small satin ribbon circled the bun and a simple sheet of netting fell from the ribbon down her back. Around her neck she wore her mother’s pearls, three short strings that were held together at the throat by a large sapphire broach. Her earrings were pearl teardrops.

A long table covered in a snow white cloth had been set up in the dining room at Lord Dugdale’s home for the buffet. Lighted silver candlesticks graced each end of the table and a small arrangement of fresh flowers had been placed in the middle.

The table was laden with silver trays holding thin slices of salty ham, racks of tender lamb chops, and thick cuts of roast beef. There was a variety of steaming green and yellow vegetables in hand-painted bowls, a tureen of turtle soup, as well as cooked figs, honeyed pears, and plums in champagne sauce. A separate smaller table was filled with an array of apricot tarts, scones, and sweet cakes.

Immediately upon arriving at the earl’s house a receiving line was formed and Olivia stood beside her new husband and greeted all the well-wishers who filed by, but her mind was distracted by other thoughts.

In the week following Andrew’s assertion that they would marry, Olivia had hardly had time to breathe. From the time she rose in the morning until she fell into bed at night she was being fitted for gowns, approving menus, choosing flowers, and going to teas.

In the evenings she attended two and three parties before returning home. She didn’t know how, but Lord Dugdale managed to join her at almost every party and dance with her at least once. They were polite but distant with each other at each meeting. It amazed her how detached she and Andrew were about something that would alter their lives forever.

But what astonished her most of all was how quickly she’d put Mr. Yost out of her mind once she had accepted Andrew’s proposal. She had wanted to feel some great loss or at least disappointment knowing she would never see him again, but she didn’t.

Olivia had been hesitant that morning when her belongings had been picked up. She was leaving her aunt’s rented home and moving to Lord Dugdale’s. She had lived with her aunt for so long, but Olivia wasn’t one to dwell on the things that couldn’t be changed. She had shored up her courage and decided to make the best of her new life as this man’s wife.

The gathering was small. Not so much because the wedding was hasty, but because Olivia had not wanted dozens of people she didn’t know attending what she considered a very private affair. Aunt Agatha and Aunt Claudette had reluctantly whittled the guest list to under fifty. They both had smiled at her when she insisted that Mrs. Farebrother’s name be stricken from their list.