His Wicked Seduction (10 page)

“What on earth do you mean?”

Ashton took a sip of his brandy. “We have our rules, remember, and Lucien has a sister. He understands the brotherly instinct to protect those under his charge. It is possible that he fears Horatia will someday be a target, however unintentional, of his natural charm.” Ashton stroked his jaw. “Therefore he is cold to her, in hopes her declaration of love from years ago never resurfaces.”

“I don’t follow. Are you saying he
desires
my sister?” The idea of Lucien even thinking of Horatia as he would any other woman made Cedric’s blood boil. He refused to believe it.

The other man merely smiled.

“Never mind, Cedric. We won’t worry any more about it tonight.” Ashton took another sip of his drink.

A sudden pounding on the front door alerted both men to the world outside their thoughts.

“Now who the devil could that be?” Cedric muttered. He and Ash abandoned their brandy and headed into the hall where a tired footman was already moving to open the door.

Charles stormed in, dragging a disheveled, swollen-lipped and upset Audrey. Cedric, unusually observant about his sister tonight, immediately assessed the clearly dangerous situation. Someone had been kissing his sister, kissing her hard enough to give her that singularly bee-stung plumpness to her lips. Furthermore, she was upset, though not as though she meant to cry. No, she was livid, like a spitting mad cat.

“What on earth?” Cedric began.

“Sheridan!” Charles snapped as he shoved Audrey deeper into the hallway as the footman shut the door.

“Charles?” Cedric replied in shock.

“You have to do something about your sister! Marry her to the first oaf in Hyde Park if you must, but for God’s sake, get her married!” After Charles’s violent outburst the hall became deathly silent.

“Oh dear,” Ashton said. This would not end well.

Chapter Nine

“Not a penny until the conditions are met, and there is dirt falling upon a grave.”

Horatia’s heart shot into her throat as she struggled to listen to the low voice on the other side of the garden hedge.

“Oh my God,” Horatia hissed at the same time that Lucien growled, “That bastard!”

Lucien pulled Horatia by the hand back through the hedges and once more into their room.

“We have to leave now,” he said in a tone rough.

“I can see myself home.” She couldn’t keep her voice from shaking.

“No chance of that, Horatia. I’m taking you to Godric’s.”

Horatia froze.

“How…how long have you known?” Her hands flew to her mask, still firmly in place.

“How long have I known what?” Lucien asked as he grabbed his overcoat and cloaked it around her shoulders.

“How long have you known it was me?” She fought to remain calm, despite the wild gallop of her heart, and clutched his coat tighter around her.

“Since you walked in the door.”

Horatia’s stomach pitched straight towards her feet.

“What we did…that was…” She had no words to say anything more. “And you knew!” Her tone came out more accusatory than she intended. She had meant to seduce
him
after all.

“Tonight was a lesson for you to be careful around men,” Lucien replied. “A lady of your standing shouldn’t be here. What would Cedric think if he found out?”

“What about the garden? The stars? Was it all a lie?” Horatia’s lower lip shook, but the anger she wished she could summon did not appear. She was bruised and hurting inside. Why was it whenever Lucien was around to wound her she lost the urge to fight? Was it because she cared so much about him that she didn’t want to quarrel?

“Everything that happened tonight was a lie. Deep down you knew that. I gave you what you sought while retaining your virtue, at least in the most literal sense. Others would not be so considerate. I was playing along for your benefit.”

“My benefit? Don’t you dare cheapen what happened between us!” Horatia winced at the shrillness of her own voice. Her right hand raised as though to slap Lucien. “I won’t let you!”

“Go ahead, my dear. Strike me for my villainous ways and my dastardly schemes. But we have more serious matters to attend to.” Lucien waited patiently for her to slap him but Horatia, tears stinging her eyes, merely shook her head and took a step back.

“Even though you deserve it, I could never willingly hurt you.” She turned away from him. This only seemed to infuriate him, however. He chased her to the door, grabbed her shoulders and spun her around.

“I don’t want you to feel anything for me,” he hissed. “Not love, not pity, not even kindness. Do you understand?”

Horatia managed a sad smile. “I understand. But it doesn’t change how I feel.” Her words seemed to light a fire within him.

He pressed hard against her, hands raking up and down her body. Lucien forced his mouth down over hers, scorching her with the violence of his kiss. Horatia melted into him, knowing he hated her for it. He cupped her bottom, jerked her tighter into him, demanding with his aggression that she scream and fight him off. It was as though he ached to wound her but nothing could compare to his betrayal of her heart.

“Fight me, damn you!” he snarled. “Strike me. Hate me.” But Horatia offered only soft lips and yielding caresses until he pulled away.

She raised her chin, unafraid and determined to prove it to him. “I won’t. You’re trying to frighten me on purpose. It won’t work. You’d never hurt me.”

The growl at the back of his throat was wild and warning her to stay away.

Glowering, he moved her aside so he could open the door, then pulled her along by the wrist until they were leaving the Midnight Garden’s townhouse. Lucien called for the footman near the main door to summon a hackney.

When the coach rolled up, Lucien shoved her inside and instructed the driver to go to Half Moon Street. He didn’t apologize. Didn’t say a single word. He tore off his mask and when he caught her staring, he leaned over and ripped off her mask as well, then tossed both onto the floor. She kept her eyes on him.

“Stop looking at me!” Lucien shouted. Horatia flinched, but did not look away. “Did you hear me?”

“I suspect all of London heard you.” Her tone was surprisingly cool. She was rather proud of herself, standing up to him so.

“Then do as I say.”

“I may care for you, but that doesn’t mean I have to obey you. Especially when you are being so rude. It’s not as though we’re married.”

“Heaven forbid I ever suffer that fate.”

Despite his cruel words Horatia could not do as he asked. She was unable to look away from the depths of his hazel eyes. He had no idea just how alive she was when he touched her. Even his roughness made her burn with desire. She longed to fight back, to match his passion, but until he loved her in return, she could not give in to that side of herself. There would be no turning back if she ever showed him the darker side of her nature—the secret, forbidden desires she longed to fulfill in his arms. It was better if he never know how truly alike they were.

They managed the rest of the coach ride in silence. When they reached Essex House, Lucien ordered her to stay put. She did obey this time, but only because she needed a moment to herself, to get control of her emotions.

Once Lucien left the carriage, the tears started. She sniffed and wiped her eyes, trying to swallow the painful lump in her throat. Tonight had been such a wonderful dream, until Lucien had ruined it. The pig-headed fool. How could he have faked such sweet emotions? Would he never again call her his lovely stargazer? Had that too been a lie?

God, I’m the one who’s a fool.

She admitted twice tonight that she cared for him only to have him scorn her for it. Horatia wasn’t a child anymore, but it seemed clear that Lucien still thought her to be the enemy. She wasn’t even worthy of a second chance.

Her mind flashed back to that moment on the bed, when he’d driven her to a height of pleasure and comforted her as she experienced the frightening spiral of sensations. How was she supposed to reconcile that sweet, seductive man with the overbearing tyrant he’d become when his mask was off? He could be as different as light and dark and the constant switching back and forth was driving her mad.

Horatia hastily wiped her face as she heard a number of voices approach. She moved over to allow Emily, Jonathan, Godric and Lucien into the coach. It was a tight fit, the three gentleman all pressed on one side, allowing the ladies to have the opposite bench.

“Ouch, Jonathan, that’s my knee!” Lucien hissed.

“Isn’t this cozy?” Jonathan laughed. Godric grunted as Lucien jabbed an elbow into his ribs when trying to settle back into the seat.

Horatia found herself reluctantly smiling as the three grown men squirmed against each other like fidgety schoolboys.

“Are you going to tell us what this is about, Lucien?” Godric asked once the coach started moving again, this time towards Curzon Street.

“I shall explain once we’re at Cedric’s. It will be best if I tell everyone at once. That way if anyone has questions, I won’t have to repeat myself.” His eyes warned Horatia to say nothing.

“Very well,” Godric grumbled, trying again to settle in and looking more than a little surly.

Emily leaned over to Horatia and asked in a low whisper, “Where were you tonight? I thought you were coming to dinner?”

“It’s a long story, one I can only share when we’re alone. But would you cover for me? If Cedric asks, could you say I was at dinner with you?”

“Absolutely,” Emily assured her. “I’ll let the others know.”

“What are you two whispering about?” Godric watched the pair of them curiously.

“Probably the overthrow of Parliament,” Lucien said sourly.

“Don’t be silly. That was weeks ago. We’ve moved on to Europe now,” Emily replied with a dark grin.

Godric snorted. “Clearly you have too much free time on your hands, darling. I shall have to correct that once we return home.” He flashed his wife a grin that Emily returned with interest.

“Now what are you
really
up to?” he asked.

“It is none of your concern, darling.” Emily now dared to smile sweetly at her husband who frowned.

“You are my concern.”

“Of course, darling.” She agreed as though they’d had this discussion many times before.

“Emily.” Godric crossed his arms over his chest.

“It doesn’t concern me. Therefore it is none of your concern either.”

When he started to protest, she kicked him in the shin with the tip of her boot.

“Ow!” He gasped in indignation more than pain.

“Oh I’m dreadfully sorry, did that hurt? How clumsy of me! This coach is awfully crowded.”

“You will pay for that, my dear.”

“And I expect I shall quite enjoy it.” For a brief second, Horatia worried the newly married couple would forget that there were three other people in the carriage and engage in public displays of affection.

Horatia envied the love that so clearly bound Godric and Emily. Would she ever have that? The odds didn’t appear to be in her favor.

When the coach arrived at Cedric’s townhouse, Lucien leaped out and dashed up the steps. Godric followed, helping his wife down. Jonathan was next but waited patiently to assist Horatia. She noted the pair of masks lying on the carriage floor and picked them up, one black and one silver. She bit her bottom lip. Tonight the last of her childhood dreams had been crushed. Never again would she entertain such foolish thoughts of love and happiness. She wished she had the strength to cast away the masks, but her fingers wouldn’t let go of them. She exited the coach, taking Jonathan’s offered hand for support.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“You are most welcome,” he replied, a smile of genuine affection on his handsome face.

Jonathan was a true gentleman, and it was a pity Audrey was so infatuated with him. Horatia ought to have fallen in love with a man like him. At least then she would be respected. Perhaps not loved, but she was going to have to accept that. She was doomed to never love again.

“It seems we are not the first to arrive,” Jonathan observed as he joined her in the open doorway.

They were met by an unpleasant sight. Ashton had his arms about Audrey’s waist, holding her back. Cedric was throttling Charles against the wall, his feet off the ground and poor Charles’s face was a rather disconcerting shade of purple.

“What the devil?” Jonathan blurted out. Godric had already rushed to pull Cedric off of Charles.

“What in God’s name is going on?” Lucien demanded.

Audrey delivered a sharp elbow into Ashton’s ribs as she fought to free herself. When Audrey tried to deliver another such blow, Ashton spun her delicately into Jonathan’s unsuspecting embrace.

“Hold her, man!” Ashton ordered. “And watch the elbows, they’re like fire pokers!” Jonathan’s arms locked about Audrey’s waist, holding her captive. Now that Ashton was free, he sighed and rubbed a hand over his ribs.

“It seems Charles compromised Audrey this evening,” Ashton said, finally answering Godric and Lucien’s questions.

“What?” Emily’s head whipped towards Ashton in disbelief.

Godric finally succeeded in wrenching Cedric away, and Charles collapsed to his hands and knees, wheezing.

“Cedric, we don’t have time for this,” Lucien cut in. “Something important has happened. Don’t give me that look, it’s more important that your sister’s honor.”

“What could be more important than that?”

“The safety of yourself and everyone you hold dear.”

“What on earth are you talking about? You don’t mean that note on my door, do you? I thought we’d agreed they were more idle threats?”

“I will be happy to explain, but we ought to send the women upstairs. There is much to discuss, and I haven’t the time to deal with feminine hysterics,” Lucien said.

His callous remark drew an arched brow from Emily and a glare from Audrey.

Godric came over, prepared for his wife to fight him. “I quite agree. It is a matter that cannot be shared with the ladies.”

Emily held up a hand. “We will retire upstairs as you so politely requested. I would rather be in the company of hysterical women than ridiculous men. Ladies?” Emily indicated for Audrey and Horatia to follow her. Horatia was the first up the stairs, but Audrey still had to free herself from Jonathan.

“Let go!” she growled.

He looked down at her, holding her in his arms, as though surprised she was still there. Audrey stomped on his toes and he jumped back with a shout. She huffed and stalked up after Emily and her sister. Cedric trailed them all the way to Horatia’s room and once inside he locked the the door. Audrey shouted vile curses no lady and few sailors should have known, some of it in French, ending with a hearty kick to the door. Unfortunately, her slippers were not the most effective weapons and she let out a yelp of pain. She hopped madly back and forth, clutching her bruised toes.

“Why on earth did you let them lock us away?” Audrey whined.

“Because you haven’t been subjected to the indignities I have when those men downstairs don’t get their way. It is most unpleasant to be manhandled, and far more undignified than this.” Emily smoothed her midnight blue velvet skirts and sat down on Horatia’s bed, looking at her expectantly. “Besides, I believe Horatia knows exactly what is going on.”

Audrey looked to her sister as she limped over and joined Emily on the bed. “Well?”

Horatia sighed. “Very well. But you must not say a word until I’m finished. No, Audrey, not even a peep.”

Audrey, whose lips had already opened up, stopped and clamped back shut.

After a brief narration of the night’s events, heavily edited for propriety’s sake, Horatia waited for either of her companions to speak. Worry shaded Emily’s eyes, turning them a deeper shade of purple. Audrey just blinked, gaped and blinked again.

“This is more serious than I thought. There is a death threat out on your brother?”

Horatia nodded. “Lucien seems to know who is behind it, but he cannot understand why the men were discussing it in such a place.”