NOT JUST A WALLFLOWER (4 page)

‘Perhaps if you were to—no, I see that you are so entertained by the whole idea, you would not even consider coming to my aid!’ Ellie eyed him in utter disgust as he continued to grin at her in that unsympathetic manner.

He eyed her mockingly. ‘Perhaps if you were to tell me of the reasons for your reluctance in this matter, I’d feel more inclined to help you out?’

Ellie gave an impatient shake of her head. ‘No doubt they are the same as your own. I could never marry anyone whom I did not love with the whole of my heart and who did not love me in the same way.’

All amusement fled as he stood up abruptly, his eyes now a cold and glittering sapphire blue. ‘There you are wrong, Eleanor,’ he rasped. ‘My own feelings on that particular subject are in total opposition to your own,’ he elaborated harshly as she raised questioning brows, ‘in that I would never consider marrying anyone who declared a love for me, or vice versa.’

Ellie’s eyes widened at his words and the coldness of the tone in which he said them. She had believed that the duke’s aversion to marriage was because he had not yet met the woman whom he loved enough to make his duchess. His statement now showed it was the opposite.

Ellie could not help but wonder why...

She was aware, of course, that many marriages in the
ton
were made for financial or social gain, as her mother’s had been to Frederick St Just. But often the couples in those marriages learnt a respect and affection for each other, and in some cases love itself. Again, that had not happened in her mother’s case, her marriage to Frederick, an inveterate gambler and womaniser, tolerable at best, painful at worst, certainly colouring Ellie’s own views on the subject.

But for any gentleman to deliberately state his intention of never feeling love for his wife, or to have her feel love for him, seemed harsh in the extreme.

And surely it was asking too much of any woman, if married to Justin St Just, not to fall in love with him?

Or perhaps the answer to his stated aversion to loving his future wife had something to do with why he could not initially be found earlier on this evening...?

Ellie knew that many gentlemen of the
ton
had mistresses, women society dictated they could never marry, but for whom they often held more affection than they did their wives. Perhaps he had such a woman in his life? A low-born woman, or possibly a married woman of the
ton,
whom he could never make his duchess, but for whom he had a deep and abiding love?

Yes, perhaps that was the explanation for his stated desire for a loveless marriage. ‘Would such a situation not be unfair to your future wife?’ she ventured softly.

He looked down the length of his nose at her. ‘Not if she were made aware of the situation from the onset.’

She gasped. ‘Surely no woman would accept a marriage proposal under such cold and unemotional conditions?’

He gave her a pitying smile. ‘It has been my experience that most, if not all women, would maim or kill in order to marry a duke and love be damned.’

‘But—’

‘The hour grows late, Eleanor, and I believe we have talked on this subject long enough for one evening.’ Justin abruptly placed his empty brandy glass down upon the mantelpiece before turning away, no longer in the least amused by this conversation. ‘If I might ask that you send word to me tomorrow regarding my grandmother’s health?’

‘I—of course, your Grace.’ Eleanor seemed momentarily disconcerted by the abrupt change of subject. ‘Hopefully I might also be able to inform you of her change of mind in regard to my attending the Royston Ball.’

Justin grimaced. ‘You are an optimist as well as a romantic, I see.’

A faint flush darkened her cheeks even as she raised her chin proudly. ‘I would hope I am a realist, your Grace.’

He gave a slow shake of his head. ‘A realist would know to accept when she is defeated.’

‘A realist would accept, even with your generous offer of providing me with a dowry, that I am not meant to be a part of society. Indeed,’ she continued firmly as he would have spoken, ‘I have no ambitions to ever be so.’

Justin raised his brows. ‘You consider us a frivolous lot, then, with nothing to recommend us?’

He found himself the focus of dark-green eyes as Eleanor studied him unblinkingly for several seconds before giving a brief, dismissive smile. ‘There is no answer I could give to that question which would not result in my either insulting you or denigrating myself. As such, I choose to make no reply at all.’

It was, Justin realised admiringly, both a clever and witty answer, and delivered in so ambiguous a tone as to render it as being at least one of the things she claimed it was not meant to be!

Again he found himself entertained by this surprisingly outspoken young woman, to appreciate why his grandmother was so fond of her; Edith St Just did not suffer twittering fools any more gladly than he did himself.

He gave her a courtly bow. ‘I greatly look forward to being your escort to the Royston Ball.’ And it was true, Justin realised with no little surprise; it was diverting, to say the least, to anticipate what this young woman might choose to do or say next!

Her eyes widened in alarm. ‘My escort?’

He shot her a disarming grin. ‘Another request from my grandmother.’

‘But why should I be in need of an escort, when I already reside here?’

Justin smiled. ‘Because a single lady, appearing in society for the first time, must be accompanied by her nearest male relative and guardian, and it appears I have that honour.’

Panic replaced the alarm in those deep-green eyes. ‘Everyone would stop and stare, and the ladies would gossip speculatively behind their fans if I were to enter the ballroom on the arm of the Duke of Royston!’

‘I believe that to be the whole point of the exercise, Cousin.’

‘No.’ Eleanor gave a decisive shake of her head, several red curls fluttering loosely about her temples as she did so. ‘If I am to be forced to attend, as you believe I will be, then I absolutely refuse to make such a spectacle of myself.’

He raised haughty brows. ‘Even though
you
will have the honour of being the first young woman whom the Duke of Royston has ever escorted anywhere?’

She looked startled for a moment, but recovered quickly. ‘That only makes me all the more determined it shall not happen.’

Justin’s smile widened at her stubborn optimism. ‘I do not believe there is any way in which you might prevent it—other than your possibly falling down the stairs and breaking a leg before then!’ He laughed in earnest as he saw by Eleanor’s furrowed brow that she was actually giving the suggestion serious consideration. ‘Would it really be such a bad thing to be seen entering the ballroom on my arm, Eleanor?’ he chided softly as he crossed the room to stand in front of her. ‘If so, then you are not in the least flattering to a man’s ego.’

‘I do not believe your own ego to be in need of flattery,’ Ellie murmured huskily, totally disconcerted by Justin’s sudden and close proximity. Indeed, she could feel the warmth of his breath ruffling those errant curls at her temple.

‘No?’ Long lean fingers reached up to smooth back those curls, the touch of his fingers light and cool against the heat of her brow.

Ellie swallowed before attempting an answer, at the same time inwardly willing her voice to sound as it normally did. ‘How can it, when you are the elusive but much-coveted prize of the marriage mart?’

She sounded only a little breathless, she realised thankfully, at the same time as she knew her disobedient knees were in danger of turning to water and no longer supporting her.

‘Am I?’ A smile tilted those sculptured lips as those lean fingers now trailed lightly down the warmth of her cheek.

Her throat moved as she swallowed before answering. ‘Elusive or much coveted?’

‘Either.’

Ellie found she was having trouble breathing as his fingers now lingered teasingly close to, but did not quite touch, the fullness of her lips. Suddenly she possessed both dry lips and a throat she necessarily had to moisten before attempting to speak again. ‘This is a ridiculous conversation, your Grace.’

‘Ah, once again you seek to put me firmly in my place with the use of formality,’ he murmured admiringly.

‘I do no such thing!’ Ellie attempted to rally her indignation—not an easy task when the soft pad of the duke’s thumb was now passing lightly across her bottom lip, and sending rivulets of excitement to the tips of her breasts and an unaccustomed warmth to gather between her thighs. ‘Your Grace—’

‘Justin,’ he correct softly. ‘Or Cousin Justin, if you prefer.’

‘I do not,’ she stated firmly, knowing that if she did not stop his teasing soon she would end up as a boneless puddle at his highly polished, booted feet. ‘It is late, and I— Perhaps there is some—someone anxiously awaiting your returning to her tonight?’

He stilled as those narrowed blue eyes moved searchingly over her flushed face. ‘You implied something similar when I arrived earlier tonight...’

‘Your Grace?’

‘It becomes more and more obvious to me that you, like my grandmother, believe my delay in arriving here this evening to be because I was in the arms of my current mistress,’ he said speculatively.

Ellie felt her cheeks flush even warmer, no doubt once again clashing horribly with the red of her hair, as well as emphasising the freckles across her cheeks and nose that had long been the bane of her life. ‘I am not in the least interested as to the reason for the delay in your arrival—’

‘Oh, but I think you are, Eleanor,’ he contradicted softly. ‘Very interested.’

She gave a pained frown as she looked up into those intent blue eyes and decided she had suffered quite enough of this gentleman’s teasing for one evening. ‘Is your conceit so great that you believe every woman you meet must instantly fall under the spell of your charm?’

‘Not in the least.’ Those blue eyes now twinkled down at her merrily. ‘But it is gratifying to know that you at least find me charming, Eleanor—’

‘What I
believe,
your Grace, is that you are a conceited ass—’ She fell abruptly silent as Justin lowered his head and bit lightly, reprovingly, on her bottom lip.

Ellie stiffened as if frozen in place and her heart seemed to cease beating altogether as she acknowledged that the coldly arrogant Duke of Royston, the mockingly handsome Justin St Just, had just run the moistness of his sensuous tongue over her parted lips...

Chapter Five

J
ustin knew, almost the instant he began to gently nibble on the enticing fullness of Eleanor’s bottom lip, tasting her heady sweetness against the sweep of his tongue, that he had made a mistake. A mistake of monumental proportions.

Admittedly he had been intrigued by that plump curve for some time now and had wondered at the depth of sensuality it implied, but to have acted upon that interest, given that his grandmother had so newly appointed him Eleanor’s unofficial guardian, was unacceptable. To himself as well as it must be to Eleanor. Indeed, she appeared to be so horror-struck by his advances that she stood in front of him as still, and as cold, as the statue she now resembled.

Justin pulled back abruptly, his hands grasping the tops of her arms as he placed her firmly away from him, at the same time unable to stop himself from noticing that her lip was a little swollen from where his teeth had seconds ago nibbled upon it. ‘Perhaps, in future, it would be as well if you desisted from challenging me by insulting me?’ he added harshly in a desperate attempt to divert her attention away from his despicable behaviour.

‘You—I—’ Ellie gasped her indignation, eyes wide and accusing at the unfairness of being blamed for his shockingly familiar behaviour. She now wrenched completely out of his grasp to glare up at him. ‘You are worse than conceited, sir! You are nothing more than—’

‘Yes, yes,’ he dismissed in a bored voice, knowing he had to carry on now as he had started. ‘I have no doubt I am a rake and a cad, and many other unpleasant things, in your innocent eyes.’ He eyed her mockingly as he straightened the lace cuffs of his shirt beneath his jacket. ‘You will need to be a little more subtle, my dear, if you are to learn to rebuff the advances of the gentlemen of the
ton
without also insulting them.’

‘And why should I care whether they feel insulted, if they have dared to take the same liberties you just did?’ Ellie asked scornfully.

‘Because it is part of the game, Eleanor,’ he explained, hoping she would believe him.

She stilled, eyes narrowed. ‘Game...?’

He gave a slight inclination of his head. ‘How else is a man to know whether or not he likes a woman enough to marry her, let alone bed her, if he does not first flirt with her and take a liberty or two?’

She breathed shallowly. ‘You are saying that you—that your reason for—for making love to me just now was your way of preparing me for the advances of other gentlemen?’

He raised a golden brow at her comment. ‘A mere taste of your lips cannot exactly be called lovemaking, Eleanor.’

Her cheeks flushed. ‘You will answer the question!’

He shrugged wide, indifferent shoulders. ‘Are you now prepared?’

Was Ellie ‘prepared’ for the assault upon her senses that had resulted when he had nibbled upon, and tasted, her lips? Could anything have ‘prepared’ her for having her heart stop beating as it leapt into her throat? For the aching heat that had suffused her body? For the way her legs had turned to jelly, threatening to no longer support her? For the thrill of the excitement that had run so hotly through her veins!

And all the time she had been feeling those things he had merely been ‘preparing’ her for the advances of the other gentlemen of society...

She straightened, her shoulders back, chin held proudly high. ‘I am “prepared” enough to know I shall administer my knee to a vulnerable part of any gentleman’s anatomy should he ever attempt to take such liberties with me!’

The duke gave a pained wince. ‘Then my time with you this evening has not been wasted.’

Had there ever existed a gentleman as arrogant, as insufferable, as this particular one had just proved to be? Somehow Ellie doubted it. Nor did she intend to suffer his company this evening for one minute longer!

She stepped back, her gaze cool. ‘I believe it time that I went upstairs and checked upon the dowager.’

Blond brows rose in disbelief. ‘Are you
dismissing
me, Eleanor?’

Her mouth set stubbornly as she refused to be cowed by his haughty arrogance. ‘Did it sound as if I were?’

‘Yes.’

She gave a small smile of her own. ‘Then that is what I must have been doing.’

Justin gave a surprised bark of laughter at the same time as he cursed the fact that he had realised only this evening that he found this particular young woman so damned entertaining. It was, to say the least, inconvenient, if not downright dangerous, to his peace of mind, if nothing else. As he had realised when he had kissed her just now. A mistake on his part, which Justin had felt it necessary to explain by dismissing it as a lesson for Eleanor’s future reference—even if the lesson
he
had learnt had been not to kiss her again. ‘I am a duke, Eleanor, you are an impoverished stepcousin; as such it is not permissible for you to dismiss me.’

She raised auburn brows. ‘Another lesson in social etiquette, your Grace?’

Gods, this woman had enough pride and audacity to tempt any man— Justin brought those thoughts to an abrupt halt, a scowl darkening his brow as he looked down at her between narrowed lids. ‘One of many ahead of me, I fear,’ he taunted. ‘Your social skills appear to have been sadly neglected, my dear.’ And he, Justin acknowledged bleakly, would have to take great care in future not to ‘enjoy’ those lessons too much!

Colour blazed in Eleanor’s cheeks at his deliberate insult. ‘I assure you that I am perfectly well aware of how to behave in the company of both ladies and gentleman without your help, sir.’

‘Your implication being that you do not consider me as being one of the latter?’

There was no missing the dangerous edge to his tone now, and Ellie—in keeping with her changed circumstances in life a year ago—wisely decided to heed that warning. This time. ‘There was no implication intended, your Grace. Now, if you will excuse me...’ She gave a brief curtsy before crossing to the library door.

‘And if I do not excuse you?’

Ellie came to an abrupt halt, her heart pounding loudly in her chest, the hand she had raised to open the door trembling slightly as she turned to face Justin. ‘Do you have something more you wished to say to me tonight, your Grace?’

What Justin ‘wished’ to do at this moment was place this determined but politely rebellious young lady across his knee and administer several hard slaps to her backside; indeed, he could not remember another woman infuriating him as much as this one did—or who tempted him to kiss her as much as this one did either, and all without too much effort on her part, it seemed. ‘You will remember to send word to me concerning my grandmother’s health,’ he commanded instead.

‘I have said I will, your Grace.’ She gave another cool inclination of her head. ‘Will that be all?’

Justin’s hands clenched at his sides as he resisted the impulse he felt to reach out and clasp her by the shoulders before soundly shaking her. After which he would probably be tempted into pulling her into his arms and kissing her once again. And heaven—or more likely hell—only knew where that might lead! ‘For now,’ he bit out between clenched teeth.

She turned and made good her escape, closing the library door softly behind her.

Leaving Justin with the unpleasant knowledge that he might have given his grandmother’s companion little thought until this evening—apart from noticing those kissable lips and the tempting swell of her breasts like any other red-blooded male would!—but he was now far too aware of the physical attributes, and the amusement to be derived from the sharp tongue, of one Miss Eleanor Rosewood.

* * *

‘Would you care to explain to me exactly why it is I am out riding with you in the park this afternoon, your Grace, chaperoned by her Grace’s own maid...’ Ellie glanced back to where poor Mary was currently being bounced and jostled about in the dowager duchess’s least best carriage ‘...when I am sure my time might be better occupied in helping her Grace with the last-minute preparations for the Royston Ball later this evening?’ She shot the duke a questioning glance as she rode beside him perched atop the docile chestnut mare he had requested be saddled for her use.

His chiselled lips were curved into a humourless smile, blue eyes narrowed beneath his beaver hat, his muscled thighs, in buff-coloured pantaloons, easily keeping his own feisty mount in check, so that he might keep apace with her much slower progress as the horses walked the bridal-path side by side. ‘I believe you are riding with me in the park because it is my grandmother’s wish to incite the
ton
’s curiosity by allowing you to see and be seen with me before this evening.’

Ellie shot him a curious glance. ‘And what of your own wishes? I am sure that you can have no real interest in escorting me for a ride in the park?’

Justin bit back his irritated reply, aware as he was that Eleanor was not the cause of his present bad temper. He had spent much of his time these past three days hunting down Dr Franklyn, determined as he was to learn the full nature of his grandmother’s ill health and what might be done about it.

To his deep irritation, the physician, once found, had been adamant about maintaining his doctor/patient confidentiality. A determination that neither the threats of a duke, nor the appeal of an affectionate grandson, had succeeded in moving. Nor had he been in the least comforted by Dr Franklyn’s answer, ‘We all die a little each day, your Grace’, when Justin had questioned him as to whether or not the dowager duchess was indeed knocking at death’s door.

The physician’s professionalism was commendable, of course—with the exception of when, as now, it was in direct opposition to Justin’s own wishes. As a consequence, he had left the physician’s rooms highly frustrated and none the wiser for having visited, and spoken with, the good Dr Franklyn.

His evenings had been no more enjoyable, spent at one gaming hell or another, usually with the result that he had arrived back at his rooms in the late hours or early morning, nursing a full purse, but also a raging headache from inhaling too much of other gentlemen’s cigar smoke and drinking far too much of the club’s brandy. Last night had been no exception, resulting in Justin having risen only hours ago from his bed. He had then had to rush through his toilet in order that he might be ready to go riding in the park with Eleanor at the fashionable time of five o’clock.

An occurrence which had made him regret ever having agreed to his grandmother’s request today. ‘My own wishes are unimportant at this time,’ he dismissed flatly.

Eleanor eyed him with a slight frown. ‘I had thought her Grace seems slightly improved these past few days?’

Justin gave her a rueful glance, having no intention of discussing his grandmother’s health with this young woman, or anyone else. ‘You believe my grandmother’s possible ill health to be the only reason I would have consented to ride in the park with you?’

Eleanor shrugged slender shoulders, her appearance thoroughly enchanting today in a fashionable green-velvet riding habit and matching bonnet, the red of her curls peaking enticingly from beneath the brim of that bonnet. ‘You obviously have a deep regard for your grandmother’s happiness, your Grace.’

‘But I have no regard for your own happiness, is that what you are saying?’

Ellie avoided that piercing blue gaze. ‘I do not believe anyone actually enquired as to whether or not I wished to go riding in the park with you, no...’

‘Then I shall enquire now,’ the duke drawled as some of the tension seemed to ease from those impossibly wide shoulders shown to advantage in the cobalt-blue riding jacket. ‘Would you care to go riding in the park with me this afternoon, Miss Rosewood?’

Ellie had tried in vain these past three days to persuade the dowager duchess into changing her mind about Ellie attending the Royston Ball, or accepting Justin St Just as her escort for that evening.

Having failed miserably in that endeavour, Ellie had then been forced to spend much of those same three days being pushed and prodded and pinned into not only the velvet riding habit she wore today, but also several new gowns, one of which she was to wear to attend the Royston Ball this evening. Tediously long hours when the poor seamstress had been requested to return again and again by the dowager duchess, in order that the fit of Ellie’s new gowns should meet the older lady’s exacting standards.

As a consequence, Ellie would much rather have spent the day of the ball composing herself for this evening, than putting herself through the equally unpleasant ordeal of first riding in the park with the arrogantly indifferent, and highly noticeable Duke of Royston. Especially when his taciturn mood and scowling countenance showed he was obviously as reluctant to be here as she was!

‘No, I would not,’ she now answered him firmly.

Once again Justin found it impossible not to laugh out loud at her honesty. ‘Even though, as I have previously stated, it is well known amongst the
ton
that I never escort young ladies, in the park or anywhere else?’

‘Even then,’ she stated firmly. ‘Indeed, I do not know how you manage to stand all the gawking and gossiping which has taken place since we arrived here together.’

Justin raised surprised brows as he turned to look about them. Having been lost in his own sleep-deprived drink-induced misery until now, he had taken little note of any interest being shown in them.

An interest that became far less overt when openly challenged by his icy-blue gaze. ‘Ignore it, as I do,’ he advised dismissively as he turned back to the young woman riding beside him.

Green eyes widened in the pallor of Eleanor’s face. ‘I find that somewhat impossible to do.’

‘Perhaps a compliment or two might help divert you?’ he mused. ‘I should have told you earlier what a capable horsewoman you so obviously are.’ Far too accomplished for the docile mount he had allocated to her. A horse, Justin now realised, whose chestnut coat was very similar in colouring to the red of her hair.

‘Are you so surprised?’ she taunted before giving him a rueful smile. ‘My stepfather, your own cousin Frederick, may have been offhand in his attentions, but he possessed an exceptionally fine stable, which he regularly allowed me to use.’