Compromising the Marquess (13 page)

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Authors: Wendy Soliman

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #Regency

BOOK: Compromising the Marquess
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“You’re not married,” she pointed out, pinioning him with a knowing look.

“That’s different.”

“Because you’re a man?” She shook her head. “I don’t see why.”

She didn’t know what she was asking. Hal could happily sweep her into his arms and ravish her right then and there on those uncomfortable pebbles. He realised now that he’d spent half the time he’d been here with her resisting that very urge. And now here she was, offering herself to him as though it was a scientific experiment. It was enough to drive a man demented.

“The answer is
no,
Leah,” he said.

She pouted. “Do you find me that unattractive?”

“Not at all, but you have to—”

“I know I’m not beautiful like Beth, or well-bred like the ladies you’re accustomed to mixing with, but still.” She glanced down at her hands primly folded in her lap. “We’re destined to be in each other’s company for the next week or two whilst we arrange this ball. I don’t see why we can’t make a little time for ourselves.”

Against his better judgement he lifted a hand and gently traced the curve of her face. “I think you’re quite lovely.”

“There’s no need to say that. I know it isn’t true. I have freckles,” she said dramatically, making it sound like a contagious disease. “My nose is too long and my jaw too...well, it just isn’t right. But when you kissed me in your study earlier today you made me feel...well, special,” she said, not looking at him. “I found it rather pleasant.”

“Rather pleasant!” If she carried on insulting him, she’d get her wish because he’d feel compelled to change her opinion. “Is that the best you can do?”

“My apologies. It wasn’t my intention to damage your masculine pride,” she said, chewing her lower lip in an obvious effort not to laugh. “You must forgive me if I’m being gauche but I don’t know how else to express my wishes. You see,” she continued, propping an elbow in her bent knee and resting her head in her hand, “despite your reluctance, I’ve quite made up my mind to discover what happens next. Oh, and if your fear is impregnating me, rest easy on that score. From my reading, I’m well aware that there are ways to avoid that fate.”

She fixed him with a sincere yet meltingly innocent gaze, as though daring him to defy her. He didn’t because he was too busy choking.

“I beg your pardon,” he said, when he recovered the power of speech.

“Don’t be coy, Lord Denby, it doesn’t become you.”

“You’re serious,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re actually asking me to seduce you.”

“I believe I am.” She smiled, clearly gaining in confidence. “As you know, my reputation is now quite in tatters. My aunt called round this afternoon and scolded me for a full half hour. I am not to throw myself at you, apparently.”

“I’m sorry about your aunt.”

“So too am I,” Leah said with a rueful grin. “I have Beth’s future to consider.”

“And require your uncle and aunt to acknowledge you in order that your sister can gain a foothold in society?”

“Precisely. I shall have to behave perfectly from now on—at least in public—in the hope of regaining my aunt’s good opinion.” Leah grimaced, not looking too optimistic about achieving that ambition. “It also seems that Miss Bentley has not given up on you, or rather her mother hasn’t.”

Hal rubbed his face with his hands. “So we ruined your reputation for nothing.”

“And removed any impediment that might prevent us from continuing with our charade.”

“I don’t anticipate seeing Lady Bentley or her daughter in the near future, so that won’t be necessary.”

“I rather think they plan to see you.” Leah flashed a brief smile and as quickly averted her eyes from his face. “I don’t plan to ever marry, so I don’t feel bound by the rules that govern society. I shall see Beth comfortably settled and then find an intellectual pursuit to see me through to my old age. That being the case, there can be no possible harm in your complying with my request. Unless you find me entirely repulsive—”

“That’s not it.”

“In which case I shall excuse you and find someone else to satisfy me.”

Hal spluttered, wondering if her choice of words had been deliberately provocative, and didn’t quite know what to say.

“I am quite determined to see this through,” Leah said, “and once I make my mind up about something, I never change it.”

Hal stared at his companion, for once lost for words. Moonlight reflected in her hair, turning it the colour of fire, and her silver eyes regarded him with absolute determination. She was serious about this. Her words, so innocently spoken, had aroused him. He shifted, seeking a more comfortable position, unable to find one. This naïve temptress had offered to help them organize a ball and in return had primly asked him to seduce her. His erection throbbed, his body entirely ready to comply with her request. His mind barely less so.

“Will you do it, Lord Denby? Will you satisfy my curiosity?”

Only by dint of his own iron self-control did he manage to repeat his earlier denial.

“No,” he said. “I won’t.”

* * *

Leah’s face burned with humiliation. She seldom thought about her appearance, simply because it wasn’t anything special and didn’t engage her interest. For the first time she understood that it really did matter. If she was more feminine, took more trouble to highlight her better features, held her impertinent tongue and disguised her intelligence, perhaps the marquess wouldn’t be quite so repulsed by what he saw. And he must be repulsed because, unless her research was woefully wide of the mark, most men would jump at the proposal she’d just put to him.

“Very well.” She stood and averted her gaze from the face that now hovered mere inches from her own. “You’ve made your disinterest quite apparent and I’m sorry to have embarrassed you. I should be getting home.”

“Leah.”

He placed a hand on her shoulder and she couldn’t avoid turning to look at him.

“Yes, my lord, what is it?”

“If we’re to become more intimately acquainted then you ought to address me as Hal.”

“But didn’t you just say—”

“I said I wouldn’t seduce you, and I meant it. I won’t take your virginity, sweet Leah,” he said softly, cupping her face with his hand, his thumb gently tracing the line of her jaw. “But there are many others things we could safely do. Things that will help you understand the pleasures you’ll forego if you really mean not to marry.”

“What things?” she asked, staring straight into his eyes, although she was fairly sure she already knew.

“I intend to change your mind about matrimony.”

“You’re certainly welcome to try.” She licked her lips, which suddenly felt incredibly dry. “But from my personal observation, I find little evidence to support any argument that the marital state is particularly kind to my sex.”

“And yet you claim your mother died of a broken heart.”

“My parent’s marriage was the exception to the rule.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I observe people and I have yet to notice any other union based on such an all-encompassing love. Nothing less would tempt me into marriage. I’ve seen what it does to women. I would no longer be allowed to hold opinions of my own, or do anything without first gaining my husband’s approval. Worse, I’d be expected to obey him in all things, even if he was quite wrong in his opinions.”

He laughed. “I can see that might cause you some difficulties.”

“Absolutely. I could never marry a man I didn’t love and respect, nor one who didn’t allow me the freedom to be myself.” She shrugged. “Since I cannot imagine that such a paragon exists anywhere in the universe—and even if he does, he’d never be interested in me—I think it safe to say that you won’t change my mind.”

The gleam in his eye was positively lethal.

“Come here,” he said, pulling roughly into his arms. “It’s time for your first lesson.”

Her body collided with his, causing the air to leave her lungs in an extravagant whoosh as it bounced against the solidity of his chest. She looked up at him, expecting him to kiss her again. To her surprise and considerable disappointment he merely traced the line of freckles across her nose with his forefinger.

“Far from being unsightly, they lend character to your face.”

Leah screwed up the nose he’d just touched, the skin tingling where he’d made contact with it. “You make me sound like an actor in a play.” Even so, she was aware of her expression softening. “Character indeed!”

Hal sighed. “What must I do to convince you of my sincerity?”

“Oh, there’s no necessity for that. I don’t requirement compliments. After all, our affections aren’t engaged. We’re merely experimenting.”

“Precisely my point. To pursue those experiments with the proper degree of passion, we must feel agreeably disposed towards one another.”

Leah looked at him askance, unsure whether he was serious or merely amusing himself at her expense. “And that requires complimenting one another?”

“It’s absolutely essential.”

“Must we learn more about one another’s ideology as well?” she asked, wiggling in his arms.

“Keep still!” he said, sucking in a deep breath.

“Sorry, did I do something wrong?”

“Nothing.” He grimaced as he spoke, making it sound as though she’d done a very great deal. “What do you wish to know about me?”

All sorts of questions sprang to Leah’s mind. She wanted to know more about his work in the war. She wanted to know why he wasn’t on good terms with his step-mama. But most of all she wanted to know why he was unmarried.

“Why do you wear your hair in a queue?” Leah winced as the words left her lips. She might not be able to attract him on a physical level but she had hoped to at least impress him with her intellect. Instead she’d asked the inane sort of question that any empty-headed miss would most likely voice.

“Because I spend a lot of time at sea,” he said, not appearing to object to her curiosity. “It’s easier that way.”

“Apparently you’re not a slave to the dictates of fashion.”

He shuddered. “Absolutely not.”

“It suits you,” she said, reaching up to touch the tail at the back of his head.

“Thank you.” He smiled at her. “There, we’ve already paid each other a compliment. It’s not so very hard, is it?”

“Why are you on bad terms with your step-mama?” she asked, emboldened by his languid state to ask such a personal question.

“I will tell you one day,” he said, his tone making it apparent that the subject wasn’t open to debate at that particular moment.

“Very well. I’m sorry about my inquisitive nature. It’s always getting me into trouble.”

“But essential in your line of work?”

“Yes.” Leah’s fingers rested on his shoulder. On a whim she reached down and touched the chest hairs peeping from the opening at the neck of his shirt. “I’ve never seen a gentleman such as yourself anything other than fully dressed before,” she said, unable to keep a note of curiosity out of her voice.

“Then you will, all in good time,” he promised, finally dropping his head to offer her the kiss she’d almost given up on.

His lips were as firm as she recalled. Firm and demanding. This time she knew what to expect but the almost arrogant authority that governed his actions, the feel of his large hands spreading across her back as his arms crushed her against him, still made her head spin.

She was drawn towards Hal Forster but hadn’t expected to be quite so tempted by him. She fully intended to remain in control of the experiment she’d persuaded him to participate in, but the pure sensuality of the man tugged at her on a level she appeared unable to command. Desire flickered as she instinctively parted her lips beneath his. His mouth played against hers as his tongue delved and explored.

Her hands were round his neck. She found the end of the ribbon that held his hair in place, pulled it free and ran her fingers through the thick tresses as they fell loose. They tumbled to his shoulders. Clearly surprised, he broke the kiss, eliciting a cry of protest from Leah.

“You seek to undress me, little one?”

“I was curious to see your hair, much as you wished to see mine.”

“And so we continue to explore one another.” He took her hand and led her back to the blanket. He sat down, leaned his back against the boulder, not appearing to notice the discomfort of the pebbles, and pulled Leah into his lap. “How shall you live if you discontinue your work as a scribe?” he asked, his hands sliding confidently over her thigh.

“Hmm?” Sensation reverberated through her like thunder as the motion of his hands filled her with selfish longing. She reminded herself that this was merely an experiment, it was essential to remain in control of her senses. “I have a little of the funds left that Mr. Morris gave me when Papa’s business was ruined.”

“Enough to keep you both?” He nuzzled her neck, dropping a delicate line of kisses down its length, causing chaos with her turbulent emotions.

She dropped her head back, giving him clearer access to her throat. “Just so long as we can stay at the gatehouse for a little longer,” she said breathlessly.

“Why should you not?” His voice was muffled as his tongue lapped at the hollow at the base of her throat.

“My aunt doesn’t want us there.” She shivered at the odd sensation rippling through her midsection. “If I don’t behave as she decrees, she’ll use it as an excuse to have my uncle evict us.”

He chuckled. “Then it’s fortunate she can’t see you now.”

The shirt Leah had tucked into her breeches appeared to have come loose. Her eyes refused to open but she knew it must have done because she felt cool air peppering her torso. Then a large hand came to rest on the linen of her chemise. Her first reaction was one of shock. Then her addled wits reminded her that she’d asked for this.

She opened her eyes and chanced a glance at his profile as his hand crept higher, sucking the breath from her lungs. His features were soft, his expression caressing her as tenderly as the hand that remained on her thigh. He trained bright brown eyes on her profile but didn’t break the mood by speaking. With his hair falling around his face, rippling muscles visibly at work beneath the thin linen of his white shirt, he reminded Leah of a Viking warrior—strong, fearless and regal. Yes, definitely regal. There could be no mistaking that this man had been born to lead.

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