A Taste of Temptation (3 page)

Thank goodness it was a warm night.

The inconsiderate earl had obviously invited entirely too many guests and as far as Olivia was concerned, Lord Dugdale was taking too much time greeting each person presented to him as he stood at the rear of the vestibule.

She and Agatha had quietly arrived in London a month ago. But before they were unpacked and settled into their leased town house in Mayfair, word of Agatha’s arrival had spread throughout the city and invitations to parties, the opera, and teas were being delivered at the rate of three and four a day.

It might have been more than a dozen years since Agatha Loudermilk had been in London, but obviously no one had forgotten the well-liked woman who had commanded the ear of every member of the
ton
. Word had spread quickly that the once grand spinster was back in Town.

Agatha had been careful in her selection of parties they would attend. She was mainly interested in the smaller soirées that were given in private homes rather than the larger ones held in magnificent places like the Great Hall.

During the prior two evenings Olivia had met several handsome gentlemen and three of them had asked to call on her. But she had declined them all. She had settled in her mind that she wanted to marry a man like the quiet-spoken Mr. Yost, and she wasn’t going to be persuaded from that goal by a handsome young Londoner with a title connected to his name. Neither her aunt nor her mother had found happiness with their choices of men from among the
ton,
so Olivia had concluded long ago that she wouldn’t either.

The night was unbelievably beautiful and unseasonably warm for so early in the spring. There wasn’t even a hint of a breeze in the thick, unusually mild air.

A small slice of moon offered the dark sky little light, but the walkway in front of the house was well lit with street lamps and lanterns from the half dozen or so carriages that waited to deposit their passengers. Music could be heard coming from inside the house and it mingled with the rumble of constant chattering and occasional laughter that could be heard up and down the queue.

Aunt Agatha didn’t seem to mind the long line that inched its way up to the front steps flanked by an iron arch that had been decorated with fresh flowers. She chatted happily with the lady in front of them. Olivia found herself moving slightly to the side of the line, which happened to put her in a perfect place to observe the earl, who stood in the foyer of his house.

A thread of unexpected anticipation wove through Olivia as she watched the handsome man smile and heard him flatter each lady who reached him. He bowed, kissed hands, and laughed with all the self-confidence of a wealthy, titled gentleman.

She couldn’t help but notice the earl was the complete opposite from Mr. Yost in appearance and manner. The man from Kent was much shorter and fairer than the tall earl, but perhaps his face was bit more handsome than Lord Dugdale’s. She had never seen Mr. Yost greet anyone with the self-assurance of their host for the evening’s party.

There was no doubt Lord Dugdale was a likeable fellow judging from the faces of those he greeted, and he was far from shy. He stood tall and powerful looking with his black evening coat cut perfectly to fit across his straight shoulders and broad chest. The fabric of his royal blue waistcoat and expertly tied neckcloth spoke of prosperity and privilege, and he wore both of them well.

The style of his fine, medium-brown hair was straight and attractive with the sides barely covering his ears while the back went past his nape. It fell in feathery wisps across his forehead and made him look a little roguish, a little daring, but also extremely dashing, and that made Olivia’s heartbeat speed up a little.

His face was strong, masculine, and cleanly shaven. His lips appeared full and his mouth wide and manly. The narrow bridge of his nose heightened his well-defined cheek-bones.

Olivia continued to peruse the powerful-looking man at her leisure when suddenly she realized that the man was looking back at her, his gaze studying her face. Her heart fluttered and her stomach quickened deliciously, unexpectedly, when their eyes met.

Olivia watched his gaze skim down her face, over her breasts, which were tastefully exposed by a low-cut ivory gown, before he glanced back up to her green eyes again.

His obvious scrutiny made her tingle with awareness way down in the pit of her stomach.

Unlike her usual well-controlled self, she felt her face flush. She lifted her chin a notch to counter his arrogance, though the thought that he looked her over as intently as she assessed him flattered her.

Because of the distance between them she couldn’t read the expression in his eyes very well, but she had the distinct feeling that he approved of her inspection of him and that he enjoyed his evaluation of her.

“What do you think of the earl?”

Olivia’s attention snapped back to her aunt when she realized she’d been spoken to. She was a bit uncomfortable that Agatha had caught her staring at the man.

In a voice much huskier than she intended, Olivia said,

“I haven’t even met him yet. How can I know what I think of him?”

“Well, you’ve certainly stared at him long enough,” her aunt bantered lightly with a teasing smile playing about her lips. “Do you think him handsome?”

How like her aunt not to let her evade a question. “I suppose he could be called handsome—by some.”

“Some? My dear, I’m certain every young lady in London would consider him one of the finest-looking men in all of England.”

Olivia turned her back on the earl so she wouldn’t be tempted to cut her eyes around to look at him. “There should be more to attract a young lady’s attention than mere appearance.”

“Yes,” Agatha said. “Wealth and titles are always nice additions.”

“I was talking about things like character, kindness, and whether or not he’s benevolent.”

“I’m sure the earl is filled to overflowing with all those worthy traits and more.”

“Are you? I’m not. Don’t you remember the things we heard about him just last evening?”

“You mean that he was once a member of a trio called the Terrible Threesome? But we’ve known that from years of reading Lord Truefitt’s tittle-tattle in the
Daily Reader
.”

“Yes, and we also know that he has shamefully trampled on hopeful young ladies’ affections for years.”

“Nonsense. He is merely a young man who’s having difficulty finding the right lady to be his wife,” her aunt said, looking up the line to where the earl stood. “Waiting to be sure you ask the right one is not such a bad thing. I do believe he’s the only one of the Terrible Threesome who isn’t married.”

“That must mean he is the worst of the lot.” Her aunt laughed with such freedom that Olivia had to laugh, too, even though she’d never been more serious about what she’d said.

And a moment later added, “The very kind Mr. Yost hasn’t broken any young lady’s heart that I’m aware of, and his standing in the community is sterling.”

“He’s also a bore,” Agatha quickly countered. “Don’t you find Lord Dugdale’s reputation the least bit intriguing or tempting, or perhaps a little dangerous?” Olivia squared her shoulders. “A rogue who gives no thought to how many hearts he breaks? Absolutely not.

Who would want to marry a rake, even if he is young, handsome, and titled?”

“Obviously everyone but you, my dear,” Agatha said with a hint of merriment in her eyes. “I dare say Lord Dugdale is considered the most eligible bachelor in London this Season.”

Olivia wasn’t surprised or daunted by her aunt’s words.

The earl was a splendid-looking specimen. But he was not the kind of man Olivia would ever trust with her heart.

Olivia smiled at her great aunt, whom she loved dearly.

From what she’d heard about Lord Dugdale, he must be much like her aunt’s Lord Pinkwater. It was no wonder that Agatha was drawn to a man who resembled her past love.

What Olivia couldn’t understand was how Agatha could still be controlled by the ghost of a beau who had stolen her heart and then left her to a long life of heartache and loneliness. Olivia wouldn’t let that happen to her. She felt sure she would be safe from such heartbreaks with a kind man like Mr. Yost.

Feeling confident in that thought, Olivia said, “Well, when I meet the earl, Auntie, I shall be sure to give him wide space and leave plenty of room for all the ladies who want his attention, because the only man whom I want to claim my attention is back in Kent.”

“Agatha Loudermilk, by all the saints in heaven, why have you waited so long to return to London?” Olivia glanced up to see a petite lady rushing toward them as they made it to the bottom step of the doorway.

Her silver hair was arranged high on top of her head and threaded with tiny ribbons and flowers. The woman’s dark eyes jumped with excitement and a big smile stretched across her aged face.

Agatha reached out her arms and engulfed the petite woman in an affectionate but delicate hug. “I finally had a reason to return.”

“Yes, I heard you’re sponsoring your grandniece for the Season, but I also hope you came to see old friends like me.”

“Without a doubt.”

“I’m so happy you could attend my grandnephew’s party tonight, but we must get together just the two of us so we can remember old times. Why haven’t you set a date for us to get together?”

“You know I’ve been trying to get settled. We will get together soon, Claudette, and thank you for the invitation for tonight’s soirée. My, but you are as youthful as when you were presented at court.”

“Thank you, my dear friend. I’m always trying new creams from this wonderful new apothecary that hasn’t been in London very long. This shop has a potion for everything. Perhaps one of them has finally started working.” The two ladies laughed for a few moments before Aunt Agatha said, “I have someone I want you to meet.

This is my niece, Olivia Banning. Olivia, this is one of my dearest friends for many years, the dowager Viscountess Collingsworth.”

“How do you do, Viscountess?” Olivia curtsied. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve often heard Aunt Agatha speak of you.”

“And I’ll wager not a word of it was good.” Olivia laughed lightly. “On the contrary, all of it was good, and I’m sure all of it was true.”

“In that case, I’ll mind my manners and try not to disappoint you.”

Suddenly there was a loud crash of something breaking.

Olivia, Agatha, and the Viscountess looked inside the house and saw a shattered china urn on the floor, perilously close to the feet of the earl.

Shocked gasps, shrieks, and ohs continued to rumble throughout the crowd like a wave rushing to the shore.

“Did you see that?” someone said. “Blasted thing almost hit Dugdale.”

“How did it fall? There’s no one on the landing,” another person offered.

“Merciful heavens,” the Viscountess said in a breathless voice as she flipped open her fan and started patting her chest with it. “How could this be? Excuse me, I must check on what happened.”

Olivia, her aunt, and several others stepped up closer to look inside the house. A horseshoe landing rose above the foyer and a decorative shelf extended out from the railing.

On one side of the ledge sat an urn that matched the broken one on the floor.

As the Viscountess hurried inside, Olivia heard her aunt whisper, “It’s Lord Pinkwater’s ghost. He’s trying to tell me he’s here in this house.”

“Auntie, not so loud,” Olivia admonished quietly. But it was too late. Someone had heard her aunt’s whispered words.

“A ghost knocked over the urn?” a lady cried out into the hushed crowd.

“Did someone say there’s a ghost?” another person asked.

Stunned gasps raced throughout the crowd again and suddenly Lord Dugdale was surrounded by people clamor-ing with concern.

Olivia couldn’t see him over the chattering group, but she heard him when he spoke reassuringly and said, “Quiet everyone. Listen to me. There is no cause for alarm. I’m sure a few of you would like to believe it was a ghost who made the urn fall, but—”

“What else could have caused it?” someone from inside interrupted him.

“Look for yourself, my lord. It’s clear there’s nobody up on the landing,” another person said.

“This incident was only an accident caused by an em-ployee who failed to place the urn securely on the shelf,” Lord Dugdale assured the man. “Let’s all get something to eat and drink. The dancing will begin shortly.” Olivia watched the crowd follow the earl into his front room before looking back at her aunt, who seemed wide-eyed and frozen by the mishap.

“See, Auntie, a careless servant put the urn too close to the edge and it fell off,” she spoke softly and calmingly. “It was not a ghost.”

Agatha stared into Olivia’s eyes. “No, it wasn’t an accident. It was Lord Pinkwater’s ghost. I’m sure of it. You heard someone say there was no one on the landing who could have pushed the urn off. He’s here, Livy. This is the house. I must go inside and find him.” Where a few minutes before Olivia was uncomfortably warm, now she felt suddenly chilled. “What exactly do you mean, find him?”

“I told you I would know when I felt his presence. That urn was a sign to me that he’s here. I’m going to search every room in that house until he makes himself known to me.”

Olivia stopped her aunt. “But what makes you so sure Lord Dugdale will allow you to look through his rooms?” Her aunt took a step back and looked at her as if she were mad. “I don’t plan to ask for permission.” Olivia was startled by Agatha’s statement and her unease grew. “What do you plan to do? There are close to one hundred people in there.”