His Wicked Seduction (4 page)

Lucien resumed his work of freeing her from the gown. She knew his reputation, knew he’d been with scores of women. While that bothered her, she couldn’t help but notice his fingers were clumsier than she expected.

“Shouldn’t a rake be practiced at this sort of thing?”

Lucien answered with a growl of irritation, his fingers tugging at the knotted laces.

“Who trussed you up like this? These knots look to be the work of an expert seaman.” With a final tug the bodice hung free about her, then he loosened her stays. Horatia’s heart quickened as she crossed her arms over her breasts, hiding them. She’d been so focused on undressing she only now realized Lucien was in her bedchamber and she was half-naked. Never before had she been so vulnerable.

A harsh breath hissed through his teeth. His hands moved up to her neck, falling on the grooves between her shoulders and throat. She repressed a shiver of fear and delight. Would he kiss her again? Would he dare do more than that? Her body and soul screamed for more, begged to be held by him.

God, I am a glutton for punishment
.

Lucien cleared his throat and awkwardly stammered, “I’m… I’m sorry about what happened earlier. I was not myself.”

Horatia’s heart thrashed. She turned to look at him over her shoulder. His eyes were fixed on the column of her throat, but his expression was unreadable.

“You are forgiven.” She ought to have said she never wanted him to do something like that, but deep within her she knew she wanted him to lose control and kiss her like that again.

If only he hadn’t been so cold, so ruthless when he kissed her, as though she was nothing more than another conquest in a long line of women begging for one ounce of his affection.

Lucien’s blood thundered in his ears as his self-control waned. Horatia stood still as a statue, her breath faint as if she waited for him to act further. He shut his eyes, banishing the image of her naked beneath him until he could summon the strength to remove his hands from her and step back.

“Thank you,” she breathed.

“You’re welcome.” He wanted to drag her into his arms and plunder her mouth with his, but the moment had passed. He snagged the reins of his remaining control and left her alone.

Lucien exited Horatia’s bedchamber and hurried back to his own.

He questioned his sanity for touching her, kissing her, wanting her. He was a stout defender of the League’s ‘no seduction of sisters’ rule. How many times had he threatened Charles upon pain of death to stay away from his own sister?

If Cedric ever found out I kissed her, and helped her undress
… Lucien cringed. Men had killed over smaller slights to their sisters’ honor. Cedric? He was a God-fearing man, but put in that position it would be wise to fear Cedric more than God.

Lucien had the door halfway closed when Charles burst inside.

“What the hell are you doing?” Charles shut the door, grabbed Lucien by his shirt, and shoved him backward. Lucien stumbled and hit the bed behind him.

“Care to explain why I just saw you coming out of Horatia’s room?”

“It isn’t what you think. We weren’t—”

“Do not lie to me. You’re worse at that than you are at whist.” Charles’s gray eyes were fathomless. “You weren’t in there long enough for anything serious, but you
were
in there. I want to know why.”

“I insulted her earlier this evening. I had to apologize.”

“And you couldn’t do that in the bloody hallway?”

Lucien folded his arms over his chest and glared back. “I didn’t want her to slam the door in my face, so I went in after her. You know how women are. They hold grudges of biblical proportions if you don’t apologize immediately. I’ve had enough upset mistresses to know when I need to beg forgiveness for the sake of peace.”

“So you’re treating Horatia like one of your kept women?” Charles arched a brow.

“Believe me, Horatia is the last woman on earth I would willingly seduce.” The lie was heavy and bitter on his tongue. He’d started to seduce her mere moments ago. But he wasn’t thinking straight. The damned brandy had him tied in knots. Reminding him of when he’d tangled his fingers in her stays. God he wanted to go right back to her room and shred her clothes from her body and take her to bed.

“There is no rule against being friends with a man’s sister. Cedric would never shoot you over that. But you’ve been cold to her these last few years. Is friendship beyond your grasp?” Charles crossed his arms over his chest.

Lucien sighed heavily and leaned back on his bed. It was time to resurrect the old lie. Charles couldn’t be trusted with the truth, it would be the same as telling Cedric.

“Do you remember, years ago, when I was courting Miss Melanie Burns?”

“Of course…” Charles voice trailed off.

Melanie Burns, one of the wealthiest, prettiest heiresses had nearly married Lucien. Instead, after Horatia’s interference, she had refused his proposal and a month later was engaged to none other than Hugo Waverly. Rather than be truly angry with Horatia, he’d been thankful. She’d saved him from marriage to a woman who ended up his enemy’s wife. For the next four years he’d been cordial, but maintained some distance. Then there had been her coming out when she turned eighteen. He’d never forget the first night she went to Almack’s. Her hair had been artfully styled, her dress more elegant than her usual day gowns. She’d been utterly captivating that night and the only thing he could do was run. Put distance between them before he did something foolish. Resurrecting the proposal incident had been the only straw he could grasp as a reason to stay away from her. If he couldn’t get his hands on her, he couldn’t kiss her, couldn’t make love to her, couldn’t love her. It was for the best, though of late, it was working less and less.

“Are you saying Horatia had something to do with Melanie Burns?”

“Yes,” Lucien answered flatly.

“How? She was a child back then.”

“Horatia was with Cedric at my estate in Kent on a visit. Melanie Burns was there. I was in the middle of proposing when Horatia dumped a bucket of pond water over our heads from the gazebo roof. Melanie was humiliated, her dress was ruined and the little imp, Horatia, dared to laugh at her. No matter how much I apologized later, Melanie refused to marry me.”

“Then she married Waverly. If he’s more her type, you ought to thank Horatia, not punish her.”

“There’s more to it. Horatia professed her love for me. She was only fourteen,” Lucien growled.

“A child’s infatuation. That’s no reason to be cruel,” Charles replied softly.

“I told Horatia I would never love her. That she meant nothing to me.”

A epiphany struck Charles’s face. “You broke her heart.”

“I couldn’t help it. I was so much older than she. Now she’s grown and I don’t want her setting her cap at me. I’m not attracted to her and never will be.” Lucien prayed with every fiber of his black-hearted soul that he sounded truthful.

Charles was silent for a long moment.

“Ash once told me that between love and hate there is a fine line. Sometimes you can cross it without even realizing it.”

“You can’t seriously be suggesting that I love Horatia! You know the sort of woman I need. She’s too prim and proper for my tastes. I don’t feel anything at all for her—certainly not
love
.” A bitter taste filled Lucien’s mouth at such a denial. He felt too much for her, and although it couldn’t be love, it was stronger than lust and therefore more dangerous.

Charles frowned, his gray eyes surprisingly tinged with sadness.

“Are you so adamant to avoid her because of the second League Rule? Have you learned nothing from Godric and Emily?”

“Wouldn’t you avoid a woman if it meant your friend might seek satisfaction against you? Charles, you know me. You know how I am with women. I couldn’t stay around her for much longer and not desire more than friendship, and anything beyond that could end very badly. I don’t have to remind you how protective Cedric is of his sisters. He’s always taken Rule Two very seriously.”

“You really cannot control yourself around her? Your only solution is to be cold and cruel in order to avoid temptation?” His friend seemed baffled, but then, Charles was the sort of man who was never tempted by forbidden things—he dove headlong into them.

“Unfortunately, that’s exactly what I’m saying. The more I’m around her, the more I want to be with her. We both know I’m not the marrying type, so any time spent with her would have one conclusion and no one would like the result.”

Charles raked a hand through his hair. “You’re a fool, and you’re hurting Horatia because of it. I can’t stand to stay here, not when I’m tempted to box your ears.”

“Charles.” Lucien put a hand on his friend’s shoulder as he turned to leave, but Charles shrugged free as he turned to leave.

“Good night, Lucien.”

Lucien stared at the door as it closed. A lump worked in his throat. Was Charles right? Had he been keeping his distance from Horatia to avoid more than bedding her?

Lucien loved women, but he didn’t
fall
in love with them. It wasn’t in his nature, and the women he’d had understood this. Horatia deserved a man who could be loyal. He could never have her, not as a lover or a wife. Cedric would never give him permission, and in any case there was the League’s second rule. Still, the thought of having her, calling her his very own…

Why did it make his heart hurt so, knowing it could never be?

Chapter Four

When Lucien came down to breakfast late the next morning, he noticed both Horatia and Charles were missing.

“Where is Charles?” he asked, stopping himself short from asking about Horatia as well.

Cedric glanced up from his plate. “He’s taken Horatia riding in Hyde Park to exercise my Arabians.”

“Oh?” A stab of jealousy lanced through him like a hot poker. The idea of Horatia with someone else—especially Charles—made his vision turn crimson.

Audrey was quieter than usual. Her youthful gaiety, which so often amused him when he was over, seemed to be absent.

Cedric seemed to have noticed it as well. “I say, what’s gotten into you, my dear? First Horatia is in a fit of the blue-devils, and now you are quite Friday-faced.”

It was no secret that Cedric didn’t like to see his sisters unhappy. It was something Lucien understood all too well. He had a sister of his own, and seeing her upset always set his teeth on edge.

“I wished to go shopping today, but Horatia went riding and you’ve business to attend to at Lloyd’s, so I’m stranded here alone.”

Audrey moped the way only a pretty young woman could, with her Cupid’s bow lips plumped into a pout. When this reaction garnered no attention, she added a theatrical sniffle. Her eyes were glistening with diamond bright tears. It was always entertaining to watch Audrey try to work her magic on her elder brother when she wanted something.

Lucien immediately found a solution to dry her eyes. “With your brother’s permission, I’d be happy to escort you. I have a few errands to run myself and would be delighted to have your expertise on the latest fashions.”

All signs of tears vanished as Audrey looked expectantly at her brother. Cedric gave her a nod. “Very well, but take your maid with you.”

Audrey dashed off to her room to retrieve her reticule, bonnet and cloak. When she returned she curled her arms about her brother’s neck and kissed his cheek. Lucien stifled a laugh at the bemused look on Cedric’s face.

“Anything to keep you in good spirits.” He patted Audrey’s back and gently pushed her away. She left the room like a puppy with boundless energy.

Ahh to be that young again
, Lucien thought.

Once they were alone again Cedric asked, “You’re sure you don’t mind escorting her?”

Lucien grinned. “Not at all. I do need her advice on a few things. The child does know her fashion.” She was a clever girl, but she filled that brain of hers with far too much fluff on the types of gowns and the styles of bonnets. Then again, he shouldn’t be wishing her intelligence was put to use elsewhere. Lord knows the little chit might end up a brilliant political hostess or married to a member of the House of Lords. He wouldn’t give her credit for anything less and the very idea of her having any influence over a man in politics was terrifying.

“Very well then, I shall see you both later.” Cedric drained his coffee, set the cup down and reached for his cane resting against the table’s edge. Cedric never let the cane out of his sight. A reminder of vigilance, perhaps. He paused at the door’s edge. “Remember to be on your guard, my friend.”

Once Audrey was ready to leave, Lucien ordered one of Cedric’s carriages to take them to Bond Street. With Lucien as an escort, Audrey would be free of the ogling of the charming Bond Street Beaux. They knew better than to stare at any woman in Lucien’s company. He viewed them with no small measure of condescension, like the harmless popinjays they were. The real danger for Audrey was being seen in public with someone like him. Rumors could spread like wildfire, and the press only fanned the flames.

Audrey flitted about on his arm, oohing and ahhing over every colorful window display they passed until she finally chose a fashionable modiste maker. Her lady’s maid, Gillian, a quiet girl around Audrey’s age dressed in a gray cotton gown, followed behind.

“Madame Ella is the best dressmaker in London,” she said. “She made that lovely gown of Horatia’s, the one that wretched driver destroyed.”

It seemed fortune favored Lucien today. This was exactly the place he needed to be to buy Horatia a new gown.

He kept his tone soft to prevent being overheard. “Audrey, would you be interested in helping me with a special favor?”

She grinned at him. “Oh I suppose, but I shall demand a favor from you someday.”

He had said nothing to give away his intent, yet she seemed to know she had him exactly where she wanted him. Were she a man, Audrey would have been a magnificent politician.

He tried to act casual. “As long as it is within the confines of the law and your brother won’t challenge me to a duel, then you shall have it.”

“Excellent. We have an agreement.” Her brown eyes twinkled with devilry, and he knew he’d come to regret this day. “What is it you need help with?”

“I’d like to replace your sister’s ruined gown, but I don’t wish to buy the exact same one she had before. I want something better. Something red perhaps…” His voice trailed off as Audrey’s lips parted in shock.

“You want to buy Horatia a gown?”

“Er…yes.” He held his breath, waiting for Audrey to reveal her knowledge of his secrets. Thankfully, she didn’t.

Her expression changed from surprise to one of calculation. Her shrewd gaze was fixed on him, as if she knew something about him that even he did not. It was most unsettling.

“Very well. Red you say? Silk perhaps?” she suggested with a smile that was beyond any hint of innocence.

She couldn’t know about his visits to the infamous Midnight Garden, or the games he’d played there, restraining women with red silk ties so he could take his time bringing them to screaming climaxes. He paid quite a handsome sum to keep his interests private. Yet the girl seemed to hint that she knew more than she should about him.

“Red is an excellent color on her, I agree. I haven’t the faintest idea why she doesn’t wear it more often.” Audrey turned and went to embrace the stately, mature woman who had appeared near the back of the shop. “Madame Ella!”

“Miss Audrey! I’m so glad you’re back. I kept those York Town gloves, the fawn colored ones you were so admiring a few days ago.” Madame Ella brushed a loose coil of dark hair back from her face and retrieved a small glove-sized box. Audrey barely repressed a squeal.

Madame Ella curtseyed when she saw Lucien hovering in the doorway. “Good morning, my lord.”

Lucien inclined his head and came over. He’d met her once before, a few years back when he’d come with his mother and Lysandra, his sister, to buy her wardrobe for her first Season. It seemed Madame Ella had an excellent memory.

Audrey took charge and commanded Madame Ella’s attention. “We are here to order a new gown for my sister.”

Madame Ella’s brows knit in concern. “She was not pleased with my creation?”

“On the contrary. She loved it, but it met with an unfortunate fate.” Audrey explained the previous day’s events.

“I see. So what did you have in mind, Miss Sheridan?”

“A green ball gown with a red satin over dress. Embroider the gown’s sleeves with holly designs, trim the hem with a flounce of white Belgian lace. And a green satin wrapping under her bosom.” Audrey looked over at Lucien, measuring him intently before she added, “Also, trim the décolletage with sprigs of faux mistletoe.”

Both Lucien and Madame Ella raised their eyes at this last request.

“Mistletoe?” Lucien asked Audrey in a hushed tone.

Audrey giggled.

“Don’t you see, Lucien? She’ll look so lovely in this dress, wrapped up like a beautiful Christmas present.” Audrey wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

“And they say I’m wicked,” Lucien said to himself.

If the image Audrey had created in his head was even close to reality, Horatia would be a Christmas present worth unwrapping. With that mistletoe nestled against her breasts, he would be tempted to kiss every inch of her bosom to honor the tradition properly.

“Would she wear such a gown?” Lucien asked Audrey. He wouldn’t mind the cost of the garment, but if Horatia refused to wear it, it would be an unspeakable crime against the gown, its maker, and Lucien’s very ungentlemanly thoughts at that moment.

“She would wear it, if you asked her to,” Audrey replied, her attention now fixed on the gloves she’d taken from the box. She rubbed one of them against her cheek, gave a sigh of pleasure and set them back in the box.

“And what do you mean by that?” Lucien felt breathless as he awaited her response. Just what did she know?

Audrey shrugged. “She values your opinion. If you gave the gown to her and asked her to wear it then she would.”

Her answer seemed so resolute that Lucien couldn’t help but believe her.

“Then you have our order, Madame Ella. Just as Miss Audrey requested.”

“It will be my pleasure, my lord. Miss Audrey has the finest taste.”

Lucien patted Audrey’s soft hand. “Indeed she does.”

He instructed the modiste to send the bill for the gown and gloves to him. As they left the shop, he pulled Audrey aside, her maid staying discreetly a few feet away.

“You mustn’t let Cedric know I bought the gown. Do you understand? Lie if you must, say you purchased it.”

“Why should I—”

Lucien shushed her. “I can’t buy a woman a gift such as that and not have the entire
ton
thinking she’s my mistress, your brother included. Think of the consequences.” When her eyes widened and she gave a curt little nod, he knew she understood. Her sister’s reputation was paramount.

Horatia clung to her dark blue velvet cloak, pulling the ermine lined hood tighter against her face. Charles slapped the ribbons over the backs of the pair of horses, urging them to speed up. They were headed towards Bond Street, where no doubt Audrey had dragged Lucien to do some shopping since Cedric would be busy with other matters.

“Why are you in a hurry, Charles?” She leaned back in the carriage and glanced over her shoulder to check on Ursula, who rode in the back. “We barely rode at all in the park before you insisted we return them to the stables.”

When Charles shot a look her way she saw his gray eyes were oddly turbulent, mirroring the stormy winter clouds above their heads. “I just remembered I need to take Audrey to see Avery. He’s back in London, you know. I’d be in trouble if I didn’t take her out on the Town for the afternoon with him. He does so adore your sister. You are welcome to come.” He glanced her way again.

Horatia shook her head. She didn’t feel the least bit sociable at the moment.

“You needn’t drop me off at home. Ursula and I can hire a hackney to get back.”

He scoffed as though affronted at leaving her alone. “Nonsense. I see Lucien up ahead. He’s with your sister. I’ll have him escort you home.” The words came out in an oddly strained manner, as though he was torn on the matter. “You don’t mind if I leave you with Lucien?”

“No, I do not. He will see me home safely, just as he’s always done.” Why she added the last part she wasn’t sure, but she felt it necessary to reassure Charles.

Horatia put a gloved hand on his arm. He didn’t even seem to notice. “Charles, are you unwell?”

He tensed. “No, I’m well enough. There’s much to give me worry these days. Don’t fret on my behalf.”

She stared at him for a long moment, wondering if she ought to inquire further as to the nature of his distress. Charles was always close-lipped when it came to such things. Her brother always claimed Charles couldn’t keep a secret, but Horatia knew better. When it came to matters of the heart, the Earl of Lonsdale could remain silent forever. She turned her attention to the streets again.

When they rolled up next to Lucien and Audrey, Charles called and waved them closer. He then got down to help Ursula off the carriage.

“Lucien, I need you to take Horatia home. Audrey and I have a lunch engagement with Avery, don’t we?” He slanted a look at Audrey.

She blinked once before remembrance flashed across her face. “Oh yes!”

Before Lucien could protest, Horatia and her maid Ursula were dumped into his care as Audrey and her maid Gillian usurped her sister’s spot on the curricle, and Charles tore off down the street.

“Did Charles just leave you behind so he could take your sister and my brother out for the afternoon?” Lucien asked in almost a stupefied tone.

“It would seem so.” Horatia was just as mystified. She blushed when she realized she’d been leaning into him as they watched the curricle drive off. With great reluctance she pushed away, not missing the way his hand lingered at the small of her back, as though he wished to keep her close. A little pang pinched her heart.

Lucien hailed his waiting carriage to take him, Horatia and her maid back to Curzon Street. He helped Horatia inside allowing her the seat facing forward. The carriage leapt into motion before Lucien had properly seated himself and was flung back onto Horatia. She cried out, more from surprise than any pain. He scrambled off her, apologizing profusely.

“Are you quite sure you are all right?” he pressed.

“I’m fine, my lord.” She made her tone cool, determined to erase the memory of last night’s bruising kiss and fiery touch. “You simply startled me. I’m not nearly as delicate as you seem to believe.”

When he grimaced she suspected he was recalling his encounter with her knee. The thought did not displease her.

“Did you have a pleasant time with Audrey?” she asked after an awkward silence.

“Yes, she convinced me to buy her Christmas present early this year.”

“How kind of you,” Horatia replied, thinking back on her own gifts from him.

Every year Lucien bought her a book, which she secretly treasured with all her heart, despite her knowing he only did it not to show favoritism with Audrey. Her sister was everyone’s favorite. Normally this didn’t bother Horatia, but with Lucien it struck her deep in the chest. His hazel eyes were fixed on her now, as though he could read her thoughts.

“I bought your gift as well, but it shan’t be ready for at least a few days. Madame Ella assured me it would be done in less than a week.”

“Madame Ella?” Horatia’s heartbeat skittered.

“I thought perhaps you would like a gown, since your other one was ruined.”