An Accidental Affair (3 page)

As she traveled through the card room and came up empty-handed, she marveled that there were so many widows in London for the season, many of whom already seemed in the company of unattached men. She envied them their confidence. Arabella couldn’t look at a certain well-known rake with whom she was acquainted without a blush heating her cheeks. But from all she’d heard, Lord Rothwell had a similar effect on every woman.

She fanned her face quickly, then snapped the fan shut. Now was not the time to dwell on her own interests. She had a niece to find before society noticed her absence and scandal caught them. She was almost satisfied she would survive one more night without incident until she ventured to the retiring room. Cecily was not there either, and Arabella retraced her steps, hoping they had passed each other unseen.

As she regained the ballroom and looked around for her niece, an elegant, silver-haired matron caught her eye. Lady Penelope Ford, society’s most intimidating stickler when it came to propriety, met her gaze steadily as she drew closer. Arabella straightened her spine instantly, even while concentrating on appearing as unperturbed as possible.

“Good evening, Lady Farnsworth,” Lady Penelope Ford murmured as she drew near.

“Good evening, Lady Penelope. A pleasure to see you again.”

After a long, uncomfortable moment, Lady Penelope nodded regally and returned to her own party, a half dozen members of the Ford family by their looks. Arabella continued on with as much calm grace as she could manage, but her heart was pounding. Quite frankly, Lady Penelope’s scrutiny terrified her. It always had. One curt word from that lady would ruin Cecily’s chances of making a good match and put the family out of favor with those who mattered.

She glanced behind her self-consciously and shuddered. Every time she crossed paths with the Fords, Arabella developed an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. Society called them the
Fighting Fords
. Navy men, every last one, and with tempers little suited to conforming to society’s expectations. No one doubted their loyalty to king and country, but they were said to fight as much amongst themselves as against the French.

A prickle of awareness caressed her neck. She turned her head a fraction, startled to meet the Earl of Rothwell’s intense stare. Lady Penelope Ford’s wayward nephew was known to her through a neighbor and friend in Wiltshire, so she smiled kindly.

His attention did not waver when dancers formed lines between them, and he did not smile at her as he had done with Lady Harrison. Heat swept up her neck and cheeks, making her wish her discomfort wouldn’t be obvious should she reach for her fan and beat it furiously before her face.

Arabella returned her gaze to the path ahead, determined not to appear as virginal as she felt at that moment. Rothwell’s scrutiny, even from across a crowded ballroom, was worse than his aunt’s. He had the most remarkable effect on her nerves, sending them in all directions at once. Yet when she peeked in his direction again, Rothwell had vanished, leaving her to sadly conclude that
he’d
certainly had no trouble forgetting her as soon as his gaze moved on.

CHAPTER THREE

Merrick stood alone in the darkened chamber, waiting for Louisa to join him and deliver whatever urgent news she had whispered to him in the ballroom earlier. Her entreaty to meet with her within twenty minutes puzzled him at first, but he soon discovered he was eager to avoid the ballroom and the irritation certain parties presented.

His family, Ford cousins, were present and again eager to return him to the fold.

He didn’t want anything to do with that side of the family.

Then there was Lady Farnsworth, dressed in beguiling pink silk and likely being pursued by a man far too old for her. He shouldn’t feel protective of her. She’d barely spared a glance his way, yet there was something so innocent about her that he regretted they were not better acquainted so he might advise against the connection.

He leaned his head back against the paneled wood wall as irritation filled him. He had his own affairs to arrange, and it was going poorly. A proper courtship. A marriage and then years of wedded bliss seemed well beyond his reach after months in London. The last two ladies he’d smiled at had disappeared behind fans and rushed off together. It wasn’t the first time such an event had happened, but his patience for nonsense was wearing thin. A score of fathers and guardians had followed his progress through the ballroom, and he could still feel their disapproval now in this very room.

Was being good all for nothing? If he denied himself any pleasure at all, would it make a scrap of difference in how society viewed him? It didn’t seem likely.

Maybe he and Louisa could come to an arrangement, one that could be ended at a moment’s notice should he find a woman he wanted to marry and that would cause no hard feelings between them. It was not as if they hadn’t slept together before. Louisa was always eager for bed play and she was very very good at making a man lose track of time.

She’d been dropping hints all season that they could be together whenever he wanted. He’d be using her, but then again, she’d be using him too. He considered a moment longer. What harm could there possibly be?

He was dazzled momentarily as the door creaked open, and as soon as Louisa closed it, Merrick pulled her into his arms. He allowed a brief squeak of protest at his urgency before he sealed his lips to hers. He closed his eyes as Louisa’s hands fluttered by his shoulders like frightened butterflies before settling lightly on his upper arms.

Merrick crowded her against the door and kissed the woman fiercely. Although restrained at first, she didn’t stop him but played at seeming inexperienced. Merrick loosened his grip and skimmed his hands down her sides, ending his exploration at her delightful derrière. She squirmed in his arms, her hands clutching then releasing his coat as if she didn’t know quite what to do with them. The thought plagued him until he forced himself to pay greater attention. The light embrace tightened, arms rose to loop around his neck, gloved fingers teased the back of his hair and encouraged him to continue.
 

Yet her kiss was wrong. This wasn’t Louisa. Not even his imagination could conjure up a less-experienced version of that woman.

He eased back a touch and opened his eyes, noting at last that Louisa’s height had increased in the interval since he’d last spoken to her and her normally passionate responses remained subdued. In the low light, even his vision played tricks. Louisa looked nothing like Lady Farnsworth. They were as different as night and day. He shook his head to clear it, yet Arabella still stood there.

He drew back, resting one hand at the side of the woman’s head and the other at her hip.

Arabella stared back, full lips slightly parted, chest heaving. He ran his hand down the length of her sleeve and found the tassel adorning the edge that proved it was indeed Arabella and not Louisa in his arms.

Her brow furrowed suddenly as shock likely gave way to outrage. “What are you doing here?”

“I do beg forgiveness.” He swallowed quickly. “I was expecting someone.”

Her brows rose in surprise. “Me?”

Merrick winced. “No, of course not.”

“Oh.” Arabella sighed as her gaze lowered to his waistcoat, and to his astonishment, she smoothed it. “I suppose you wouldn’t be really, would you? You clearly meant to meet another. Of course, of course. Do forgive my mistake.”

Merrick frowned at her rambling, but her touch was driving him wild. She should be angry at the very least, not apologizing, but she appeared more concerned with setting him to rights than beating him with her fan. The fact that she assumed he was meeting with someone alarmed him too. Was he so transparent to others? “What are you doing here?”

She grimaced again and her eyes darted around him. “Searching for my niece. I don’t suppose you have her?”

“She would not be with me. Never with me.”

“Oh.” Her expression brightened as she met his gaze. “Oh, that is good. Really. I could not imagine. What would she have said? Oh, never mind what I might imagine. I’m so sorry to have interrupted.”

Merrick grinned at Arabella’s confusing babble. He’d muddled her well with his kisses, and he was tempted to confuse her even more. He would be much better for her than Parker. Their ages were closer as was their height. He eased closer, delighted when her hands caressed his waistcoat again. He tilted his head to the side, catching her eye as he leaned closer still. Their lips hovered an inch apart, and he thought he might just have the opportunity to kiss her again. She didn’t appear too upset about his mistake. In fact, he believed she might be agreeable to another kiss, as she never pushed him back or moved away. The idea of kissing her again was so terribly tempting.

Her soft breath rushed across his lips, but just when he would have kissed her again the door they leaned upon bucked. Merrick threw his and Arabella’s weight against it to keep it closed. He quietly turned the key in the lock to ensure they wouldn’t be disturbed.

Wedged between him and discovery, Arabella remained still and very quiet in his arms. After a time, when Merrick was sure whoever it was had gone away, he glanced at his companion’s face. Her eyes were closed, her body resting snugly against his. As she took a deep breath, her firm, high breasts brushed against his chest. He cursed his luck that they were not both naked at that moment. All he could think of was her long, silky smooth limbs entwined with his and her passionate sighs filling his ears.

But with the ball outside and her niece being searched for, he didn’t like his chances to experience any of that.

He stood back, folding his arms across his chest to stop himself from hauling Lady Arabella back against him to finish the night as he’d prefer. Naked and writhing with him in a bed unfortunately seemed a vast improvement on finding a bride.

Arabella pressed her hand to her cheek and then covered her lips. After a long moment, her hand fell away and she glanced at the door. Her fingers clenched together at her waist. “I’m sorry for disturbing you. I hope I haven’t ruined anything important. I suspect you were awaiting Lady Harrison, and she’s likely gone back to her guests.”

He was stunned that she’d correctly guessed who he was waiting for. Merrick hadn’t thought she ever paid attention to him. A meeting with Lady Harrison mattered little when compared to merely kissing Arabella. “I will find her later.”

“She might have retired upstairs for a short time,” Arabella said. “She’s rather proud of her riding-crop collection and invited Lord Parker to view it. I did consider asking to go along with them, but my interest in horses is fleeting at best. Have you seen them?”

Merrick gaped at the primmest woman he knew. Had Arabella really believed that Louisa was speaking of riding
actual
horses? She couldn’t be that naive. He chose his next words with care just to see how she answered. “I’ve no interest in inflicting pain on my mounts.”

Her face twisted into a puzzled frown. “But you ride every day. I have seen you at it and always with a riding crop in your hand.”

Oh, dear God. He rubbed a hand across his face to hide his astonishment. She truly had no idea what the conversation had been about. “Not like that.”

“Oh,” she said at last, but Merrick wasn’t at all convinced that she had the faintest idea how and where Louisa applied her riding crops. He certainly wasn’t going to tell her that Louisa liked to dominate her lovers in the bedroom. That was not a conversation he wanted to have with Arabella on any day. He might have to explain then how he knew and why, on occasion, the experience to be on the receiving end could be thrilling.

She fiddled with the tassel on her sleeve. “I should go and find my niece. I would appreciate you refraining from mentioning I was in search of her.”

“Yes, your troublesome niece.” Merrick was not at all impressed with the way that girl behaved when unchaperoned, which appeared to be every chance she could get. “Of course. I’m not one for adding to gossip. Go find her before she truly gets into trouble.”

Lady Cecily was swiftly building her own reputation as a hoyden. She would ruin herself if she didn’t exercise more care, and she would drag Lady Farnsworth’s good name down with her.

“She’s really very lovely,” Arabella said firmly, although Merrick thought her words lacked a degree of conviction, as if they were well rehearsed.
 

He didn’t answer but raised a brow, daring her to say something unflattering. It would be the first time ever to his knowledge.
 

When Arabella instead turned decisively for the key in the door, Merrick pressed his hand back to the door to hold it closed a little longer. He eased close to her one last time and inhaled the subtle fragrance that clung to her. Roses had never smelled as sweet. “Thank you for the kiss.”

Her eyes met his over her shoulder, her expression one of utter astonishment. “Oh, no. Thank you, Rothwell. Thank you very much.”

~ * ~

Arabella stumbled into the hall on legs of wet clay and attempted to appear unruffled by her private encounter with Lord Rothwell. The man could kiss a woman so well she practically melted into a puddle at his feet. Arabella desperately needed a moment to gather her thoughts and to understand what had just happened between them. How could that man kiss her so soundly and yet have been waiting for Lady Harrison to join him instead?