One Dangerous Desire (Accidental Heirs) (9 page)

Rex breathed deep and tasted roses. A heaping bouquet of the damned flowers weighed down a nearby table and scented the air.

He forced himself to start back toward the drawing room. Reminded himself of his goals and why he’d accepted Lady Stamford’s invitation in the first place. He had a good deal yet to achieve, and he was willing to endure far worse than a room full of giggling aristocrats.

Even if worse included watching May Sedgwick flirt with the Earl of Devenham for the remainder of the evening.

Chapter Nine

H
E DOESN
’
T LIKE
balls.

It was a pointless observation. Rex Leighton’s preferences were none of May’s concern. Yet after encountering the man four times at various dinner parties during the previous week and a half, she couldn’t help but notice his absence at every ball over the same stretch of days.

Perhaps he didn’t like dancing. Or didn’t know how. He wouldn’t have taken lessons from an overbearing tutor as a child, as she had. Though her dancing master had been a beastly man, May loved waltzing. It made her sad to think of anyone who’d never had the chance to learn.

For a moment she allowed herself to imagine Rex taking a turn around a ballroom. Despite his height and bulk, he’d always moved with agility and grace. Unlike some men, he never settled into a languid slump. His body radiated a readiness to move, even when he stood, feet apart, as solid as an oak.

Nonsense.
Why waste time thinking about the man at all?

This ball would be like the others. She’d try not to think about what trouble her father might be getting into on the other side of town, visit with Em, attempt to be civil to Lady Caroline, and enjoy dancing with Henry. That is, if she could manage to get a dance with him at all.

Lady Caroline kept pushing her friend on him as eagerly as Emily nudged May his way. The father of Caroline’s friend had also made his fortune in trade, but the young lady had impeccable family connections and was a true English rose, with pale skin and ever-blooming cheeks. She didn’t have a million-dollar dowry like May’s, if rumors were true. But May knew gossip could cut both ways, especially if her father’s financial troubles became known.

“You look deep in thought when you should be filling your dance card.” Emily approached and offered May a kiss on the cheek in greeting. “Caroline is certainly scrambling to rearrange hers.”

“Oh, why so?” May scanned the edges of the ballroom for Caroline, and her gaze snagged on Henry, who stood watching her from across the room. He tipped his head and offered a dimple-edged grin.

“Because of him.”

May followed the direction of Emily’s gaze and gasped. More than a gasp. Lower and full of irritation. Almost a growl.

Rex stood on the threshold of the Bridewells’ ballroom. And he looked nothing at all like a man who disliked balls. He scanned the room with a confident smirk curving his sensual mouth, like a warrior who’d just conquered all he surveyed. Then he spotted her, and the up-tilted edges of his mouth fell.

Her own brows knit in a frown. Every time she saw him, urges clashed inside her. A contest between her head and heart. Between her body’s buzzing reaction to the man, and the impossibility of ever allowing herself to trust him again.

“Improve my evening, May, and tell me you’ll save me several dances.” The sound of Lord Devenham’s voice startled her. Distracted with watching Rex, she’d failed to notice Henry’s approach.

“Of course I will.” It was a relief to turn and smile at the earl, rather than continue her absurd staring match with Rex.

“Would you join me now?” Henry lifted his arm as if he meant to lead her away, though the music hadn’t begun. “I’m off to greet my cousin and her circle who have just arrived. I’d be pleased to introduce you.”

May rested her hand on his arm and nodded her assent. The earl swung between showing her preference and favoring Caroline’s friend. Tonight, it seemed, he intended to make her the focus of his regard.

Henry’s cousin proved to be a haughty young lady, who waved her hand in dismissal at nearly every comment others made. Devenham and his family were mad for horseflesh, and the topic soon turned to the schedule of upcoming races during the social season. May tried to follow the discussion as one young man rattled off the names of stallions and their owners. She thought it might be enjoyable to sketch a race. A challenge, if nothing else.

Challenge was an apt description for Rex Leighton too, and his sudden, perpetual presence at every social event she attended. Now, it seemed, she wouldn’t even be free of him at balls.

Ignoring the man was the best course. Yet even as she promised herself she’d do so, May caught a glimpse of his tall, muscular frame in her periphery. Turning her head for a quick glance, she saw Rex approach Lady Caroline. The young woman beamed back at him as foolishly as she herself had. Countless times, so long ago.

“And what will you wear, Miss Sedgwick. Do you have your hat yet?” Henry’s cousin questioned her loudly, as if to point out just how little May had been attending to the conversation.

“Derby Day,” Henry whispered helpfully.

May knew it was the day of a popular horserace and little else. She’d hadn’t attended the previous year and had minimal interest in doing so this season.

“You’ve never been?” The haughty female cousin sounded both astounded and appalled. “And
how
long have you been in London?” There was nothing of subtlety in the young woman’s question. Her intonation said she thought May a social pariah for not attending the race.

“Long enough to know the city is filled with amusements beyond those involving horses.” The words were out. She couldn’t take them back, nor did she wish to. Every word was true.

And, apparently, shocking. May managed to stay in the circle of noble ladies and gentlemen while they executed a chorus of chastising sniffs at her rudeness. Long enough to see Henry’s eyes widen as if May had insulted the queen.

Then she turned and started toward the exit, past where Rex and Caroline stood together, past Em and the stunned glance of Mrs. Bridewell.

A footman scurried to open the front door, and May stopped on the front step, sucking in long gulps of cool night air. Moments passed before she tamed her frustration, as much with herself as with Henry’s cousin and friends. She’d never run away from a drawing room skirmish. Worry over her father seemed to be fraying her nerves.

“Escaping before the evening is over is my style, not yours.” Rex had found her.

Before she could put back her armor and guard against him, the deep tone of his voice sent a wave of heat rushing through her body, igniting memories she’d vowed to forget.

“I intend to return to the ballroom momentarily, Mr. Leighton. You needn’t have come to rescue me.”

He moved to stand next to her. Too close. So near that his citrus and spice cologne made her mouth water.

“You’ve never struck me as a woman who required rescuing.”

May sensed him watching her, not appraising her as those in the ballroom had. His gaze was different. It always had been. He looked at her as if she mattered. Not her fine clothes, whatever beauty she’d inherited from her mother, or her father’s wealth. Just her. What she thought and needed and desired.

“Which sort of woman do I strike you as?” She hadn’t meant to speak the question so breathily, to let him know how eager she was to hear his opinion. Even now, after so many years apart.

He turned fully, facing her, though she continued to keep her focus ahead. His gaze pressed like the stroke of fingertips against her face.

“Strong willed.” His voice was too deep, too full of admiration.

“You mean stubborn?”

He chuckled and a bit of her armor began to crumble. “Well, you are your father’s daughter.”

“I won’t tell him you said that.”

“You’re a clever sort of woman.” He crossed his arms as he watched her. “Too intelligent to waste your time talking about horse races.”

She swiveled to face him. “How did you know we were talking about horseracing? You were on the other side of the room.”

“Does Devenham ever talk about anything else?”

He smiled, and May felt an answering tug at the corners of her mouth. She tried for one of those English sniffs of disdain and only managed to get a whiff of him. Not his cologne, but the unique scent of his skin. She’d never forgotten it.

“I’m sure Henry can speak on many interesting topics. He would have been tutored in polite conversation as he was in all the other rules of etiquette.” Her throat burned and she loathed the brittleness in her tone as she reminded Rex of Henry’s virtues. Perhaps she was attempting to convince herself.

“Fascinating man, the earl, I’m sure.” He seemed as unconvinced as she was and flashed one of his potent grins. “Yet you knew where I was in the room. His chatter was so interesting that you took the time to look for me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I was looking for Emily.”

“Liar.” He took a step closer, hovering over her.

A single step forward and she could touch him. Kiss him, if she lifted onto her toes. She bit her lip, resisting the urge to move toward the broad, heated shelter of his body.

“You can’t lie to me, May. I know your tell.”

“My tell?”

He raised his hand as if to touch her. She leaned in, aching to feel his skin against hers. He offered her no satisfaction.

“Your right eyelash flutters.” He traced his finger in the air over the arch of her brow. “Not quite a squint. Just an agitated little quiver.”

“I do not quiver.” But she was, if one counted her belly, her thighs, the tickle up her spine, and, probably, that traitor of an eyelash.

He lowered his face toward hers. Looked her straight in the eyes. “Don’t deny what you want. That’s not the May I remember.”

“Perhaps I’m different now. As you are,
Mr. Leighton
.” May took a step back. She hated that he knew her so well, that she’d allowed him into her heart, let him see parts of herself no one else had. If he’d valued those moments, loved her as she’d loved him, it would hurt so much less. But he hadn’t.

“Because you’ve learned the etiquette of London aristocrats?” He closed the distance she’d created by stepping toward her. “You needn’t follow all their rules, May.”

How dare a man who barely knew the rules of polite society lecture her on ignoring them?

“Not all of us can remake ourselves and do as we please.” Her tone was more complimentary than she meant it to be. Wistful, even. Hadn’t she considered remaking herself weeks before when presenting her sketches to Emily? Dreamed of starting her own business, as he had, and succeeding in design rather than the drawing room.

“There’s a difference between you and me.” His voice dipped low, a husky tone she felt like a whisper puffing against her skin. “You’re lovely just as you are. No changes required.”

Her heart thrashed in her chest as she bit back the words that welled up. She wanted to tell him that he was lovely. With the moonlight setting his eyes aglow and casting all the striking angles of his face in light and shadow, he was beautiful. Far more appealing than any chiaroscuro drawing she’d ever attempted. And the man he’d become—his confidence and accomplishments—all of that impressed her too.

“No,” she said, to herself and to him. She couldn’t allow herself to be drawn in again. If she’d changed at all, it was because he’d taught her not to trust too readily. “We should return to the ballroom. People will talk if we’re both gone too long.”

He took a step back when she pushed past him toward the door; then he reached an arm out to stall her. “Will you dance with me?”

“No, I don’t think we should.” She imagined it, could already feel the tingle of his hand clasped in hers, the press of his palm at her back.

“Because you’re saving all your dances for Devenham?” It was the first time he raised his voice since joining her on the front step.

“As you’ve promised Caroline all of yours?”

He shifted his arm to grip her lightly around the waist, finally offering the touch she’d been craving. She pressed against his hand. Some part of her needed this—his touch, his warmth, his nearness.

“I’d rather dance with you,” he whispered.

Yes.
She wanted to dance with him too. They’d never danced before. It would be new and fresh between them, untainted by past hurts. But she’d want more. She already wanted more.

“What about the duke’s wager?” Grasping, she searched for any reason, any excuse, that would allow her to deny her desire to waltz with him. “Dancing with me won’t win you the funds for your hotel.”

Rex lowered his arm and shoved his clenched fist down at his side. “Go, then. Devenham will have missed you by now.”

He’d rarely spoken to her in anger, but she heard it now in his tone, felt it radiating off of him, as hot as the heat of his palm had been against her belly.

“Enjoy the rest of your evening, Mr. Leighton.”

May made her way back inside. Returning to the ballroom took effort, determination, as if every moment spent in Rex’s company tangled her up in him again. Walking away didn’t feel like victory anymore.

Henry approached the moment she crossed the ballroom’s threshold, pleasure lighting his face. She told herself to go to him. Reminded herself not to look back.

Chapter Ten

R
EX SNAPPED THE
lid on his pocket watch closed and looked up to see Sullivan’s hansom cab rattling around the corner. He waited until the horse and vehicle pulled up to the pavement and approached before Sullivan could disembark.

“Move over. I’m joining you.”

“I’ve come to deliver my weekly report, sir.” Sullivan grimaced. “Have I not arrived at the hour you requested?”

The man truly loathed any change in his ordered routine.

“As always, you’re perfectly timed, Jack. You can deliver your report en route to the Olympia Grand.” Rex glanced up at the driver as he mentioned their destination before stepping into the cab.

Sullivan grumbled, “I still don’t comprehend.” He shifted to make room for his employer. “You are going to a skating rink. And you wish me to accompany you?”

He said the words
skating rink
with as much disdain as he might have referred to the worst den of iniquity London had to offer.

“You comprehend the situation perfectly.” Rex tried to find a place to rest his arm and ended up pointing his elbow out the side of the cab. Neither of them were diminutive men and their overcoats made for a crowded carriage.

“I am afraid I do not, sir. In fact, I feel quite certain there are details of which I am not yet in possession. Key details. Important facts that would explain why you wish to engage in faddish entertainment and how my accompaniment will assist you.”

Rex cast his inquiry agent a sidelong glance. “Do you ever engage in entertainment, Jack? Faddish or otherwise?” He worked to keep any hint of judgment from his tone. He was truly curious. Considering that Sullivan was the closest he had to a friend and confidant in all of London, he knew frightfully little about the man’s personal life.

“Why is my presence required this afternoon?” he bit out, refusing to look Rex’s way or acknowledge his question.

“Devenham’s sister invited me. She says her cousin will serve as chaperone but asked if I would bring a gentleman friend along to even out the numbers.”

Sullivan chuckled. “A woman says
gentleman
and
friend
, and you think of me?”

Rex wasn’t certain if the man was expressing amusement or giving him a set-down. Sullivan
had
been the only individual to come to mind when he’d received Lady Caroline’s invitation. “I do consider you a friend, Jack.” Expecting the detective to feel the same was a bit much to ask, especially considering that he paid the man’s wages.

“I’m honored, Mr. Leighton.” Always fastidious about titles, Sullivan never called Rex by his given name. “However, I fear I’ll fail you completely if you take me for a gentleman.” His voice lowered to the pained whisper one might use in a confessional. “I know how to behave like a gentleman, even dress to pass for one, but I assure you that no one who knew of my past—”

“I don’t give a damn about your past,” Rex shouted and was surprised to see a grin crest Jack’s face out of the corner of his eye. “We both play the gentleman when we must. We both have pasts we’d rather forget. I judge a man by his actions now, not by what he did when he was young and foolish. Or desperate.”

“Very well. We’re to be gentlemen today, and manage it with wheels attached to our boots.”

“When you put it like that, it sounds—”

“Terrifying?”

“Less appealing. How difficult can it be?”

Sullivan slanted an eye at him. “With a good deal of effort, I’ve actually managed to remain upright a few times. I used to know a lady who was quite fond of skating.”

“And? Not so bad, was it?”

“When I was vertical, it was grand.”

Rex couldn’t imagine the tall, poised detective next to him falling repeatedly in a skating rink, but he could easily envision slamming to the polished wood on his own backside. He winced as he asked Jack, “Did you fall a lot?”

“Depends on one’s definition of
a lot
. On my first attempt, I came home with more bruises than I’ve received in many a round of fisticuffs.”

Surely he’d fare better. Some of the agility of his younger days may have abandoned him, but he could keep to his feet on a skating rink. As a boy, he’d ice skated in Central Park. Once. Perhaps twice. He couldn’t recall sustaining any injuries, though he’d always been accompanied by his mother, who no doubt stood watch, ready to catch him if he started to fall.

“We’ll do fine, Jack. I suspect our main task will be to ensure that the lady joining us in a turn around the rink remains on her feet. If nothing else, you’ll have a titled lady to hold on to.”

“Which titled lady? I assume you will be paired with Lady Caroline. Do you know the young lady with whom I’ll be skating?”

He’d hoped to avoid the revelation until they reached the rink, considering how mention of Ashworth’s daughter had roused Sullivan that first time she came up in conversation. “Lady Emily Markham.”

“No.” Sullivan shook his head vehemently. “I cannot skate with Lady Emily.”

“Why does the woman frighten you so?”

“Nothing frightens me,” he scoffed, though Rex noted the man’s brow had furrowed into deep lines. “Lady Emily is . . . ” Sullivan lifted his hands and gestured in the air. At first he seemed to be indicating her height, but then his hands traced a more sinuous feminine shape. He finally gave up and folded his arms. “She’s the daughter of a duke.”

“Mmm, yes, perfectly clear now. However, I may ask Lady Caroline to marry me, so I think it best I stick by her side.”

Sullivan drew in a sharp breath through his nose. “Very well. I shall assist you in whatever way I am able.”

“You needn’t make it sound like I’m asking you to fall on your sword.”

“No, just my arse. Repeatedly.”

The cab slowed as they entered a row of traffic drawing up in front of the Olympia Grand rink.

“We’re here.” Sullivan lifted his chin to look out over the crowd awaiting entry into the arena. With his usual keen sight, he spotted their party immediately. “It seems we’ll be a group of six.”

Rex squinted in the direction Sullivan indicated and spotted a cluster composed of Devenham, his sister, Lady Emily, and May Sedgwick.

“Damnation.” The prospect of tripping over his feet in front of Caroline held no appeal. The possibility of making an utter jackass of himself with May in attendance made him want to call the whole outing off altogether.

He and Jack unfolded themselves from the cramped quarters of the carriage and offered each other a mutually wary glance before proceeding to join the others.

“Didn’t expect her to be here, I take it?” Jack asked as Lady Caroline caught sight of them and began waving. Rex needed no clarification to know she wasn’t the lady to whom the inquiry man referred.

“You’re my detective! Shouldn’t you have known where she would be?” Rex increased his pace, stomping ahead of Sullivan as he made his way through the crowd.

Jack called from behind him. “You did tell me
not
to include her in my efforts, sir.”

His punctilious investigator was right, of course. Rex spent months watching May’s parents fuss over her every action, controlling her behavior, and curtailing her freedoms. He couldn’t bear the thought of paying someone to track her movements now that she seemed to have achieved a bit of independence in London.

Rex forced his mouth into a smile as they reached Lady Caroline, taking care not to turn a single glance in May’s direction.

“Lady Caroline, thank you for the invitation. May I introduce my business associate, Jack Sullivan?”

Sullivan comported himself as if he’d been born to etiquette and social niceties, but he still looked slightly queasy when he took Lady Emily’s arm.

Devenham and May led the rest of them into the ring around the arena, and Rex found ignoring her much easier when he could glare at the back of their heads.

As if she sensed him watching her, May turned and looked back at him. She tried for disdain, her mouth tense and chin high, but her eyes were wide with interest as she held his gaze. She glanced at Lady Caroline before turning back.

“I do so enjoy this. I never move faster than when I’m skating.” Lady Caroline missed May’s look as she chattered on. “Or riding a horse, I suppose. Or even traveling in a carriage.” She frowned, as if weighing the various speeds of horse-drawn transport versus flinging herself around an enormous oval rink on eight small wheels. “And I never know who I’ll see.” She caught the eye of someone she knew and waved eagerly. “There’s always such a crush at the Olympia.”

After the third “Look, there’s Lady (or Lord) Thus-and-Such,” Rex simply nodded rather than trying to scan faces to locate a lady or gentleman he wouldn’t recognize if they stood directly in front of him.

Sitting on a nearby bench while they attached their skates, Sullivan and Lady Emily seemed to be engaged in actual conversation. She listened to him intently before offering an answer and a grin, which he returned.

“Have you skated before, Mr. Leighton?” Lady Caroline inquired as Rex claimed a bench to sit and place his booted foot on the four-wheeled metal base of his skate, taking care to buckle each leather strap securely.

“Only on ice back in New York when I was a child.” The constant noise and movement of the ladies and gentlemen already gliding around the rink brought memories to poignant life. A flash of his mother’s face and her encouraging smile made his chest ache.

“You must tell me about New York.”

Rex offered her a practiced grin. These English nobles were terribly curious about the city where he’d grown up, but none of them could imagine the hovel where he’d lived before leaving the States. Nor the sort of drudgery that had sent his mother to an early grave.

“Would you help me lace my skates?” Caroline reached out with both hands to indicate how helpless she was to reach her ankles while seated. Rex knew the time it took to divest a woman of her laces and stays. Considering Lady Caroline’s elaborate striped day dress with an impossibly narrow waist, he didn’t doubt her corset made movement difficult.

“My pleasure.” Rex crouched in front of her at the same moment Devenham knelt before May, lifting the edge of her gown just enough to reach beneath.

He forced his focus to remain on Lady Caroline’s ruffled hem and the work of wading through her layers of petticoats. Even when Devenham whispered something to May under his breath, and she laughed demurely in response.

She’d probably marry the man. He allowed himself a single glance at her face and caught a smile she offered the earl as he crouched at her feet.

“I do have another foot, Mr. Leighton.” Lady Caroline lifted her hem an inch higher and thrust her other booted foot toward him.

He buckled her skate in place and then reached higher, slipping his hand over the edge of the boot, gripping her warm stockinged leg above. “Forgive me, my lady.”

“Oh, you’re forgiven,” she purred, loud enough to earn her brother’s notice. The earl finally stood, stopped touching May, and led the way toward the entrance to the rink.

“I take it we simply wade into the fray.” Sullivan drew next to him, Lady Emily at his side.

“Seems the best strategy.” Rex never dreamed hundreds of Londoners would pack themselves into an enormous arena on a Monday afternoon to roll around a wooden rink in huge concentric circles.

Lady Caroline tugged him onto the floor, and they ended up behind a wall of three couples skating with their arms linked.

Rex noticed many skaters favored a forward lean and attempted it himself. The position allowed him to gain speed and maintain balance at the same time. Lady Caroline reached out and hooked her arm with his. He wasn’t certain if the connection allowed them to steady each other or made skating more precarious for both of them. She slowed him down, but they still achieved enough speed to make the experience exhilarating.

Devenham struggled to keep up with May, who clearly possessed skill and experience the rest of them lacked. The earl ended up nearly shoulder to shoulder with Rex and called ahead to her. “I had no notion you were so proficient in the rink, Miss Sedgwick.”

She cast an indulgent grin over her shoulder and slowed enough for the earl to catch up. Devenham drew close. Near enough for her to reach out and hook her arm through his. But she didn’t, and a satisfying fizz bubbled up in Rex’s chest at the sight of it.

Devenham didn’t seem nearly as pleased.

“Oh, look, there’s Georgie!” Lady Caroline called out, clearly intending her brother to hear. “He’s one of our dearest friends,” she said in a quieter tone to Rex.

There had to be twenty young men skating in the general area Lady Caroline indicated. As they continued to move around the oval, she twisted her head back to look at her friend, leaning at an awkward angle to keep the gentleman in view.

“Careful, Caroline.” Rex let go of her arm and reached around her waist in an attempt to keep her upright, but she’d already begun to lose her footing. One leg extended too far.

“Ah!” She let out a frightful squeal and both her legs splayed as she started down onto her backside.

Rex cut to the right to stop himself and wrapped both arms around her, catching her midfall.

“You’ve saved me,” she breathed against his cheek.

They finally slowed, and Rex led her to the side of the rink and up onto the platform, away from the rush of oncoming skaters. Caroline clasped her arms around his neck and leaned on him a bit too eagerly for such a public space.

“Are you all right?” Rex attempted to loosen her hold gently, but she immediately tightened her grip. Finally, he managed to lower their laced hands to her lap.

“My head feels as if it’s still spinning around that rink.”

He felt the echo of movement in his own body too. The insistent rolling noise of wheels on wood made him want to step back into the rink. Among the skaters, May and Lady Emily had clasped arms to skate together as Sullivan hovered behind them.

“Thank you, Mr. Leighton.” Caroline squeezed his hand to snag his attention.

“Not at all, my lady.” After pulling away from her, he seated himself at a respectable distance on the bench where they’d settled. He reached up to pat her back, attempting to soothe the tremors he’d felt rippling up his arms through their clasped hands.