Once Upon an Accident 02 - Lessons in Seduction (20 page)

Damn the man. For all the years he had been with Douglas, Robinson never missed anything. By the time he had his first pony, Robinson had been in charge of Douglas’ life. From his short pants to his first year in society, Douglas had counted on Robinson. Even during the darkest of days, Robinson had tried to protect Douglas, and nurse his wounds when he could not. Even so, there were some things a man liked to keep to himself.

“And why would you suspect that?”

Robinson held up a coat, shaking it, silently ordering Douglas to come to him. Douglas sighed and did his valet’s bidding. What good was a title when he was ordered about by servants?

As he helped Douglas on with his jacket, Robinson said, “You have not been out late, except for those nights you are out with your cousin’s family. I assumed your interest lay with one of her new family.”

Douglas said nothing, irritated that he was that transparent.

“It is not as if it is that hard to figure out, Your Grace.” He brushed Douglas’ shoulders. “And if I may be so bold—”

“Oh, please.”

“I believe it is time you found someone to marry.” He stepped around Douglas and started tidying up the remnants of his preparations for the ball that night.

“You believe I should marry. How nice that you want me to be doomed to matrimony.” Douglas tried to inject humor but even he knew it fell flat. “Worried about the lineage of the dukedom?”

Robinson stopped his work and faced Douglas. Time had thinned the man’s auburn hair. The laugh lines around his mouth and eyes had deepened with age, but added character. Douglas now topped him by almost half a foot, and looked down instead of up at him.

“You mistake my reasoning, Your Grace.”

“Never mind, I was only jesting.”

Robinson’s gaze turned speculative. “You think I do not know why you never entertained the idea of marriage?”

Uncomfortable with the frankness of the question, Douglas shifted his feet. It was as if the last twenty years had not happened.

“You think you have tainted blood. I know, I see by your expression I am right.”

He flexed his hands, thinking they were larger than his father’s had been. “You know what first-class bastards both my father and grandfather were. Would you not wonder the same thing?”

Robinson sighed. “Aye, I would. I had a bastard of a father too.” That bit of information took Douglas by surprise. “Did you not wonder how I knew your worst fears, where you would hide?”

Douglas shook his head.

“I lived through the same terror and ran away at the age of ten and three. I barely survived, but the day your grandmother walked into the inn where I cleaned slop and hired me is a day I will be thankful until I die.”

Douglas felt a lump rise in his throat as he watched the man’s eyes fill. He had always thought of Robinson as an older brother. He had been the one who taught him to ride, how to smoke a cheroot and helped him recover from his first night of drinking to excess.

Robinson cleared his throat. “Now, you will be late, and I doubt you would want that, Your Grace.”

Douglas nodded, but stopped when he placed his hand on the doorhandle. He turned and said, “Thank you, Robinson.”

“Just make sure you return with that cravat in decent shape.”

“Robinson.”

The valet looked up from his work.

“Thank you, for everything.”

He nodded and went back to work, although Douglas was sure he heard the man sniff.

By the time Douglas made it to the Endinton’s ball, it was in full force. The crush of people had risen to an uncomfortable level, the heat of the ballroom overwhelming.

He spotted Cicely almost immediately. The ton’s apparent fixation with Lady Cicely had yet to wane. Every eligible bachelor, even some of those who had sworn no interest in marriage, gathered around her vying for attention. When Douglas came upon the scene, he ground his teeth and pushed his way through the crowd. He stopped short when he found Bridgerton standing to her left. The impassive look he gave Douglas irritated him even more. Douglas was sure now that the earl knew of his intentions toward Cicely. If Bridgerton thought he could make a play for her, he was sadly mistaken.

Cicely, who had been engaged in talking to Scotty Farrington, the younger son of the earl who was hosting the ball, noticed him. Her eyes widened, then warmed. A smile curved her lips.

She offered her hand, which he took, and curtsied. “Your Grace.”

He waited for her to rise, then bent over her hand and murmured, “Lady Cicely.”

After releasing her hand, he felt the pause in the conversation around them. Every eye was watching them, weighing his behavior and that of Cicely’s. Irritated that he had to do this in front of an audience, he shifted to her right, taking his place next to her. The look he gave the other gentlemen was met with a mixture of expressions ranging from irritation to fear to outright anger. Even so, the conversation continued.

Cicely had maneuvered the discussion back to the diary. Now he understood why Bridgerton was standing guard.

“Lady Cicely.” Lord Oglithorpe—who was for once not talking to her breasts—said, “Have you had any experts look over this diary?”

He felt Cicely stiffen. The cut to her research skills and intelligence was so obvious, the murmurs around them rose. Douglas, outraged on Cicely’s behalf, opened his mouth to put the old man in his place, but Cicely did not allow him the time.

“Since I am not sure if it is real or not, my lord, I see no reason to worry on that. My own research ability is fine enough for a project like this.”

She turned away, trying to dismiss the man, but he would not let the subject go. “But, forgive me for saying, you are a woman and therefore unable to discern the possible intricacies of historical review.”

“Really?” The tone of her voice, not to mention the way she drew out the word, signaled to Douglas that Oglithorpe was in trouble. The smile she offered the older gentleman had nothing to do with humor.

Oblivious to the rise in animosity not only from Cicely, but from some of the other women in the crowd, the old goat continued on, digging a much deeper hole. One Douglas was sure Cicely would gladly bury him in. “Of course, at your young age, you would not understand that a woman’s mind cannot work through every detail. Females are known to be flighty, and therefore cannot focus on serious historical study.”

By the time the ass finished, Douglas could feel annoyance vibrating from Cicely. A flush of anger crept up her neck and into her face. She leaned forward, ready to strike out at the windbag. Douglas glanced over her head and noticed that Bridgerton’s shoulders were shaking in silent laughter. Douglas would get no help from that corner.

Cicely would take a lot of things. She would take people attacking her looks, her ability to hold polite conversation, even her prospects of marriage. But she would not take any slight to her intelligence. Soon, her temper would take control and Lord only knew what would happen then.

“Lord Oglithorpe—”

The sweep of bows across strings interrupted Cicely’s attack.

Understanding he needed to save her from an embarrassing scene she would later regret, he lightly touched her elbow to get her attention.

She started and turned to look at him. The irritation still darkened her eyes, and the wonderful flush left her skin all rosy, as if she had just risen from bedding a lover.

Moving away from that thought, for now at least, he said, “I believe I have this dance, my lady.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she said nothing. Just nodded and after excusing herself from the crowd, allowed him to guide her to the floor.

Once there, she came into his arms without hesitation. He knew no one could tell by her actions, or her expression, that she was irritated.

She was the picture of a serene lady of Quality. But in the last few weeks, he had come to know her expressions well. And this one boded ill for Oglithorpe if she did not get over her anger.

Her eyebrows drew together in a frown, the skin between them crinkling. Her posture was stiff, formal, as was the smile she afforded him.

“I know you are angry with me.”

Her gaze moved to his, then slid away again. She said nothing as he turned them around the floor. Inwardly, he chuckled. This woman actually thought she would not make a good duchess. She had the imperious look down pat. She would rule his home with no problem.

“I wanted to save you from making a spectacle of yourself.”

Again, she looked at him. “Truly?” The incredulous tone in her voice, not to mention the snort that followed, told him he had not convinced her.

“Punching a man in the middle of a crowded ballroom—no matter how much he deserved it—would only draw more attention to you. And not the type you would want.”

She harrumphed. “I daresay it would have been worth it.”

“Nevertheless, it would not allow us our next lesson.”

That bit of information caught her unaware. But she recovered nicely, even if she spoke with a bit more breathlessness than before.

“Your Grace, I cannot wait to see what you have to teach me tonight.”

Just that little breathy sentence and the deepening of her voice, had his body reacting. His blood heated and his cock throbbed. Being this close, holding her thusly was driving him mad. The dip in her voice signaled her arousal, but she did not know what she had been missing.

He did, and he intended to show her tonight.

“As I said before, patience is readily rewarded.”

She looked up at him through her lashes, the act so overtly coy but innocent at the same time, it struck him in the gut. What he was doing, seducing a young woman because he needed her, was not the most honorable thing. But Douglas could see no other way. If he declared himself immediately, she would panic and run from him. If that happened, he was truly not sure what he would do.

As the waltz drew to a close, he maneuvered the dance, ensuring they ended up near the French doors that led to the patio. With the supper hour drawing near, he hoped that many of the people would be inside looking for partners. His theory proved true as they stepped out and found the area deserted.

“Where are we going?”

He looked at her and his heart dropped to the pit of his stomach. In the moonlight, her skin shone as if it were fine porcelain. The violet dress she wore clung to every curve, accentuating that tiny waist and full bosom. But it was the look of excitement in her gaze that struck him to the core.

“I know of a room with a lock.”

She giggled. “Lead on, Your Grace.”

Taking her hand in his, he did just that.

The room that Douglas had in mind was indeed perfect for seduction, thought Cicely. A branch of candles cast dancing shadows along the walls, and a fire had been lit. The coziness of the room made her think that their hosts had left it to welcome liaisons.

The click of the door lock caused Cicely’s heart to jump a bit. She was not sure what Douglas had in mind for tonight, but a strange mixture of apprehension and anticipation wound through her.

She did not turn around as Douglas moved toward her. He stepped up behind her, sliding his arms around her waist and drawing her against him. His body heat warmed her but she shivered. Not because she was cold but because he was doing absolutely delicious things with his lips to her neck.

He chuckled, his breath feathering over her skin. “Like that?”

She nodded, then bent her head to the side to allow him more access.

His lips moved over her, nipping and licking. His teeth grazed the sensitive flesh just behind her earlobe.

“What did you have in mind tonight, Douglas?”

He paused and slowly turned her around. “I think it is better if I surprise you.”

Pulling her close, he took her mouth in a kiss that spoke of not only passion, but possession. She twined her arms behind his head as his hands slipped around her waist and pressed her against his aroused body. When she felt his hands on her bottom, she gasped, and he used the opportunity to invade and conquer. His tongue tangled with hers, a dance of seduction on another level.

Just as the night at the theater, her body reacted on some primitive level she did not fully comprehend. Her flesh grew damp and her nipples hardened—begging to be caressed. As if he heard her thoughts, he moved from her mouth to her throat, nipping and kissing until he reached her neckline. Baring her breasts, he skimmed his mouth over them, arousing one, then the other. With each touch of his tongue to her flesh she lost another bit of her grip on reality.

In the next moment, her world turned on its axis as Douglas lifted her and placed her on the desk. Before she could understand what was happening, he was pulling away from her, getting down onto his knees in front of her.

“Douglas?”

He smiled. “Trust me, love.”

She pulled her lower lip between her teeth and nodded. Without taking his gaze from hers, he grabbed hold of the skirt and slowly eased it up her legs. His palms followed the silk, skimming along her thighs.

Her heart was now beating out of control, her face burning with embarrassment. But she refused to look away. Instead, she held his gaze boldly. At that, his smile widened, warmed. Mesmerized by it, and the corresponding heat in his eyes, she did not realize at first he was sliding her legs apart and slipping in between them. Before she could react, he bent his head and pressed a kiss on her inner thigh.

Heat shot to molten lava within her veins. She opened her mouth to reject this action, to tell him it was not right. What she had wanted to say dissolved the moment his tongue skimmed the skin just above her stocking. Her senses thrilled, her nerve endings danced. The scrape of teeth, the swipe of his tongue, he continued his actions as he moved up her leg. Closing her eyes, she ignored the rising physical discomfort that had her wanting to stop this insanity. But somewhere, somehow, she knew it would cause more pain to stop.

He carried on with his assault until he reached the apex of her thighs. Alarm shot through her as she felt his breath on the most private part of her body. Her eyes flew open, her mouth followed to reprimand him. She was wet there, her body melting under his masterful assault, but when she gathered her wits and tried to close her legs, he ignored her. She expected him to comfort her, tell her not to worry, but he seemed transfixed. Without a word, he pressed his mouth against her.