Charmed By Knight (The Fielding Brothers Saga) (3 page)

The innocent temptress sat up in bed, his black robe wrapped around her like a shroud, not showing an inch of skin except for her face and hands. Her glorious auburn hair fanned over her shoulders and back, drier now than it had been when she’d awakened.

When he neared, she smiled, and he caught her gaze sliding over his length – from the top of his head to his riding boots – before her face flamed with color. It appeared as if her mind headed toward improper thoughts.

He couldn’t have asked for a better start to an entertaining day. Determination pulsed through him to find the real Miss Ramsey lurking behind this mask of innocence.

“I hope you’re not famished.” He set the tray on her lap. “The cottage is not kept properly stocked with what you’re accustomed to eating. Of course, I didn’t think I would have company today, either.”

“Oh, no, Your Grace. This is perfectly fine. I should be the one apologizing for being an inconvenience.”

He sat beside her and grinned. He rather liked hearing her call him
Your Grace
. “Don’t worry your pretty head. I’m certain I will take pleasure in your company during this storm.” He picked up a piece of cheese and bit off the corner. “So, are you enjoying my grandmother’s party thus far?”

“Indeed I am, Your Grace. The party has been just lovely, and the guests are so polite and friendly.” Her smile quickly turned into a frown. “Although, I feel terrible about this morning. My forgetful maid didn’t wake me for the early ride into town. By the time I readied myself, everyone had departed.” She shrugged. “I fear I shouldn’t have gone out, knowing a storm was approaching. At the very least, I should have taken the groom instead of declining his assistance.”

Her lie came easily, he realized. And the pout she gave him was too practiced for her to be innocent. “You’re here with me now, Miss Ramsey, so let’s make the most of our afternoon together, shall we?”

Nodding, she took a small bite out of her bread. “Why weren’t you at the party? I didn’t see you last night at dinner, either.”

“I usually stay away from my grandmother’s parties. I know why she has them, and I have told her numerous times I’m not ready to settle down and wed.”

Miss Ramsey arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “You assume her parties are to find you a wife?”

He nodded, plopping a couple of grapes into his mouth.

“Why would you suppose that?”

“You were invited, were you not? If my grandmother wants a party for herself, she invites all her old crone friends, not their daughters and granddaughters.”

Megan chuckled and her cheeks spotted with red, making the freckles on her button nose stand out. Although he knew what kind of girl she was and what her family was after, Edmund still thought she was adorable.

“I must confess, Your Grace, I was surprised to see very few young men at dinner last night.”

“Well, since you’re aware I’m not in the marriage market, does it disappoint you?”

She shrugged. “My parents are trying very hard to find me a suitable match. I suppose I have no other choice but to do what they tell me.”

“Miss Ramsey, it relieves me to have that out in the open. Now we may relax for the remainder of the day and become acquainted, as friends.”

He rested his hand on her leg and squeezed. She stiffened, but he pretended he didn’t notice. Her action seemed strange to him, since most women would have slapped him or acted as if he violated their person. All she did was lower her head and finish eating her grapes, as a blush covered her face, not meeting his stare.

This confirmed Edmund’s suspicions. She wasn’t innocent at all. Obviously, she wanted to be seduced. He could certainly arrange that.

He moved to the fireplace and threw another log on the fire. “Miss Ramsey, tell me about yourself.”

“What would you like to know?”

He turned his back to the fire, the heat warming him quickly. “You don’t look to be in your first season, so how old are you?”

“I’m in my twentieth year.”

“Why haven’t you married?”

“My father is very selective. He wants only the best for his daughter.”

Edmund bit back a grin. This information made his plan more appealing. “Have you had many offers?”

“A few, but none pleasing to my father.”

“What a life.” He lifted his arms over his head, stretching out the kinks. “I thank God every day I wasn’t born a woman. I would die if I had to live by someone else’s rules. I’m not the kind of man who allows people to dictate his daily agenda. Don’t you get tired of acting upon your father’s wishes?”

“It’s only right.”

“Right for whom?” He moved to her and lifted her chin so she would meet his eyes. “Don’t you have your own opinion? Don’t you want to be able to do as you please with your life?”

She scrunched her eyebrows. “I…don’t believe the idea has ever crossed my mind.”

“Tell me, Megan, do you approve of the method your mother is using to snag you a husband?”

She gasped then swallowed hard. “Method, Your Grace? I’m certain I don’t know what you mean.”

“I think you do.” He dropped his hand and sat beside her, closer this time, waiting for her to tell him how improper he was, but she remained silent. “Your mother is just like all the other mothers out there, always devising some scheme to win you a husband. Does it matter to you, Megan? Shouldn’t it be
your
choice? Don’t you want to fall in love and marry the man of your dreams instead of having one chosen for you?”

Her forced laugh told him she didn’t like the subject. “Those romantic notions are for fools, Your Grace. You should know that.”

“Then call me a fool, because the woman I choose to marry will be the woman I can love for the rest of my life.” He kept a straight face to appear serious through the outrageous lie. He’d told her exactly what she wanted to hear because her brilliant green eyes met his, and a wistful, tender emotion displayed in her softened gaze. He congratulated himself for saying the right words. Now he knew how to charm her. He’d have her in a passionate embrace very soon.

Perhaps it would be worthwhile to find out what game she and her parents played with the Duke of
Kelton
.

Chapter Two

Megan couldn’t fail.

If she didn’t capture the duke, her paternal grandmother would indeed kick Megan’s family out into the streets to live. She clenched her jaw. She must convince the duke of wedlock even though he wasn’t looking for a wife.

Her nanny had raised her to be a proper young woman. Why, the poor woman would spin in her grave if she knew her sweet, innocent little girl planned to charm a man. And not just any man…the Duke of
Kelton
.

Never in Megan’s wildest dreams would she think of blatantly playing the part of a wanton, yet, what other option did she have? She must proceed with her goal. She couldn’t disappoint her family and take the chance of being thrown on the streets to live like paupers.

Then again, perhaps she didn’t have to go against her upbringing and act like a wanton. Being with the duke
unchaperoned
was reason enough to be forced into marriage. Yet, it was his word against hers, and what if he chose to lie?

Her only option was to turn on her charm. She had to make him desire her enough to propose. After all, wasn’t this the very thing her mother had suggested Megan do to the duke?

As much as she loathed the thought of being reduced to a pawn in someone else’s game, she needed to do it to survive.

The duke strolled to the fireplace and grabbed a poker to stir the fire. Megan skimmed over his lean physique. Her face heated at the boldness of her gaze. He was certainly well put together. Such a strapping man; one who moved with confidence and was clearly in charge of his world. It defined his character well. She liked that.

The duke moved away and came toward her. It wouldn’t be so awful to be married to one so handsome, either.

When he passed the mahogany desk he stopped and turned. He opened the desk’s delicate cover to extract a deck of cards. “Are you a card player?” he asked over his shoulder.

“I have played some games of chance.”

“How about Commerce?”

“Regretfully, no. My expertise is restricted to ladies’ parlor games.”

“Since we are to be here for a while, let me teach you something new. I assure you it will help pass the time.”

He motioned his hand for her to join him at a small wooden table near the gray-stone fireplace. She grasped the edges of the robe and clutched them together under her chin. She really shouldn’t get out of bed dressed as she was. Her proper voice screamed at her to stay. But the cordial invitation, the tempting warmth of the fire, and the necessity to win this man as her husband lured her from the safety of the covers.

Megan pushed away her doubts and climbed out of the bed. His gaze traveled over her body in an unhurried exploration. Heated sensations shot up her spine and she tightened the material around her throat a little more.

The Duke of
Kelton
pulled out a chair for her and walked around to the other side of the table. She took a moment to study him and the paradox he presented. At one point, he seemed like a true gentleman, yet, he didn’t hesitate to touch her knee or sit so close to her on the bed.

But that didn’t explain the strange feelings running rapid through her. She trembled whenever he turned his heated gaze on her, which was not normal. No such man had been able to evoke such a response from her before.

Kelton
drew her attention away from her musing by explaining the game. As he continued to give the instructions, sounds fell from his mouth and carried across to her, but she couldn’t focus on mere words with all of her concentration aimed at his lips. They looked so smooth, so tender, and she fought the urge to reach out and touch them with the tip of her finger…or even with her own lips. Her heart quickened, promising herself a kiss would happen soon enough.

His sensual magnetism attracted her, coupled with his obvious expertise with women. He definitely knew how to woo a lady and make her heart flutter.

The duke dealt the cards and his long, bronzed fingers practically caressed each one. She crinkled her eyebrows. The sun had darkened his skin more so than most gentlemen of the realm. Then again, he did enjoy riding every morning, according to her mother. Perhaps he was more of an outdoorsman. She smiled. That was good. She, too, enjoyed riding.

While dealing the cards, every move he made bespoke confidence, like an artist smoothing his brush-strokes on a canvas. The air charged around her, and a strange new warmth radiated deep within her.

The duke lay his cards face up on the table, displaying four kings. He chuckled. “It appears I won the first game.”

She shook her head. “I fear I still don’t understand what it is I’m doing.”

“You need to collect cards which give you the highest hand. If you cannot accomplish this, then you bluff so I cannot tell what you hold in your hand.”

“What is expected after that?”

“Since this is your first game, I’ll not ask anything, but from now on if you lose, you’ll be required to forfeit something.” His dark eyebrows rose suggestively.

“Forfeit something?” Her throat turned dry. “Pray, Your Grace, what do I have on my person to forfeit? I’m not carrying any money.”

His smile stretched, making her heart knock faster against her ribs.

“I’m very much aware of this, Miss Ramsey. So I suggest we forfeit something other than money, yet just as enjoyable.”

She gulped, knowing exactly where the conversation headed. The desire-laden gleam in his eyes didn’t do a thing to ease her tension or fear, but it certainly spelled out his intent. Anxiety settled inside her stomach. She needed to relax or her plan wouldn’t work. When she thought about kissing him, her palms grew moist from the unknown. “And what might that be?”

His attention dropped to her mouth, and her heart fluttered wildly.

One of his fingers tapped his chin. “For now, how about…a kiss?”

Her body tingled at the invitation, and she licked her suddenly dry lips. “What if—” She cleared her scratchy throat. “What if I win?”

He smiled, and one side of his mouth lifted higher than the other, enticing her to forfeit before they even played the game.

“Then I will forfeit a kiss to you.” He shrugged. “Either way, we both win.”

Megan forced a laugh. “And, if I don’t want a kiss?”

The duke leaned in closer. His musky cologne wafted around her. Sensuousness poured from his body like rain on a hot summer day.

“Your eyes tell me you do,” he said huskily.

Her breath caught in her throat, nearly making her choke. Words failed her right now, because she knew not what to say to his remark.

“Are you playing or not?” He picked up the cards.

She hesitated, knowing what had to be done, but fear tightened in her chest from the mere idea of something so daring.

He laid the deck on the table and crossed his arms. “Certainly a woman as brave as yourself is capable of a single kiss.”