One Night of Passion (13 page)

What he needed to do was get her the coins she required and get her home.

Then he could get on with his life and forget this entire evening.

He could almost hear Temple’s smug chuckle at that notion.
You never know where you’ll find love,
his cousin had jested.
Once you see her, you’ll be enchanted for life.

Love at first sight.

Since when did he lend Temple’s wit and wisdom on women any credence?

His answer came in a glance at the strange Cyprian seated across the carriage—those tea-brown eyes, which seemed to see right through his bluff and bluster; her wistful glances, full of anticipation and a hunger not unlike the one sending his blood racing.

Eyes?
He was getting poetic about a woman’s eyes?

What bothered him more was that for the life of him, try as he might, he couldn’t say with any measure of certainty what color eyes Lady Diana had, while in less than a few hours Georgie’s fair features were imprinted on his soul.

In an instant he understood why his ruined engagement wasn’t the complete loss he suspected it would be for someone who was truly in love.

Earlier in the day, words like those hadn’t meant anything more to him than something poets made up and romantics eulogized endlessly.

And now?

He didn’t know what he believed.

Of one thing he was certain, if he was to regain control of his bewildered senses, he needed to put as much distance between himself and this tempting little armful as he could.

“How much do you need?” he asked. “I’ll pay you what you require and take you home.”

Georgie wanted to grind her teeth in frustration. He was going to just give her coins and send her on her way?

Of all the rakes and cads in London, out of a room of ne’er-do-wells and bounders, she had to find a man whose kisses conveyed so much promise yet his honor held sway.

This would never do!

Georgie shot him a sidelong glance and found that he too was watching her.

She had no idea what one charged for an evening, so she named the first ridiculously high amount that came to mind. An amount she doubted he had on hand, and one that would ensure they had to return to his rooms.

He coughed and sputtered. “For that price, miss, you’d have to be a virgin.” Then he laughed as if such a notion was a fine jest.

But I
—she almost said, stopping herself just in time. Instead she tried to join in and offered a small laugh of her own.

Colin was shaking his head. “Listen, even if I had such an amount, I certainly wouldn’t hand it over just to see you safe.”

“I won’t tell you anything for a penny less,” she declared stubbornly.

Georgie suspected this man was not contradicted often, for each time she naysayed his orders, he got this vexed look of disbelief on his face, as if he hadn’t heard her correctly.

So she repeated herself.

“I can’t go home without the full amount,” she said. If he could use his honor as a defense against her charms, then perhaps she could use it to find a way around his noblesse.

And then another lesson from her classics tutor came to mind. The story of Troy and a wooden horse. If she remembered her Greek mythology correctly, all she had to do was get into his house under some pretext, and then she would have him at her mercy . . . At least that was the theory.

“Half,” he countered.

“Half?” She tried to sound both insulted and outraged. This was after all her body they were haggling over, and she didn’t like the idea of letting herself go cheaply like a stale loaf of bread.

“Half,” he repeated. “Or I take you to the magistrate and let him find you a home.”

She sucked in a deep, outraged breath.
The
magistrate?
He wouldn’t dare.

Georgie glanced over at the hard, unreasonable tilt to his brows, the steady line of his jaw, and realized he would. So she nodded her head in agreement.

He reached for the trap and opened it. “I’ve changed my mind, Elton. Please take us to Bridwick House and then we will be seeing the lady directly home.”

“Aye, milord,” Elton said.

Bridwick House. Georgie’s gaze wrenched back up toward Colin. “It’s rather late,” she offered. “Won’t our arrival disturb your mother, your family . . . your wife?”

She held her breath as she waited for his answer.

“
We
won’t be disturbing anyone, for you will remain in the carriage.” After the longest few moments of her life, Colin finally added, “And I am not married.”

She resisted grinning.

They traveled along for some time before the carriage rolled to a stop in front of a comfortable and fashionable house. The entire block had an air of respectability and gentility that Uncle Phineas’s and Aunt Verena’s barely fashionable neighborhood lacked.

Georgie doubted many Cyprians saw the inside of these houses.

Colin was out of the carriage in an instant, and as Georgie started to follow him, he said, “Oh no. You stay right where you are.”

“But—” she started to protest.

“No.” He jerked his thumb at the house next door. There was a candle still burning in one of the first-floor windows. “The magistrate’s residence. And it looks like he’s still awake.”

Georgie sank back into her seat, letting him think she was defeated.

Oh, but she wasn’t. She hadn’t come this far, gotten this close, to let Colin’s better judgment get in the way of her losing her virginity.

He said something in a low voice to Elton and then was up the steps in a thrice.

Georgie tapped her one shoe impatiently, counting slowly to fifty before she leapt out of the carriage and started up the steps in a great hurry.

“Oh no, you don’t, miss,” the driver said, hopping down from his perch and following hot on her heels.

She turned around and smiled as sweetly as she could. “I have to use the necessary.”

Elton’s gaze rolled upward. “You can wait. So get back in like his lordship told you.”

Georgie hopped up and down a bit. “Please, sir. I fear I cannot wait much longer.”

The man remained unconvinced, and pointed a finger back at the open door of the carriage.

Apparently, deception was not going to work on the worldly Elton. So that left only the direct approach. She yanked open her reticule and fished out nearly every coin she had.

Offering them to him, she said, “Is this enough for you to just leave?”

“Madame!” he said. His tone implied that she’d insulted him. But as she started to return her meager offering to her purse, he coughed a couple of times. “Well, now, I suppose this might make a good story for Lord Templeton.”

Georgie latched onto that notion like a coconspirator. “Oh yes, Lord Templeton will find it an excellent lark that you left me here with his cousin.”

“That he will,” Elton said, grinning, his gnarled hand scooping up the coins. In a flash, he jumped back up on his seat and clucked at his nags. “Have a nice evening, ma’am,” he called out as the carriage rolled away.

“I plan on it,” she whispered after him.

She made her way up the stairs slowly, teetering on her one shoe.

She got to the doorway about the same time Colin came bolting down the main staircase.

He stood in front of her, blocking her entrance, looking over her shoulder, out into the empty street. The crunch of the wheels and the clip-clop of hooves were now only faint echoes.

A low growl rumbled in his chest, but his frustration and anger didn’t frighten Georgie.

“What the devil did you do?” he demanded.

“What you should have done,” she replied, sailing past him and into the house. “Now you owe me for the driver as well.”

Chapter 6

C
olin couldn’t believe the utter nerve. Why, she’d probably bribed Elton to leave and now she wanted compensation for her transgressions. Of all the audacity. Of all the nerve.

And yet it didn’t surprise him. The woman seemed to know no bounds. Really, he should blame Temple for this entire debacle. Given that his cousin was always in arrears, especially on his servants’ salaries, Elton had probably been more than happy to take her offering. And now Temple’s perpetual lack of funds had left Colin with a handful of trouble.

Even worse, as she sailed through the very proper and decent doorway of Bridwick House, he couldn’t shake the overwhelming feeling that something about this scene was very right.

That she
should
be the one crossing this threshold.

After all, it was supposed to be his wedding night. His grandfather had given him Bridwick House as a wedding present, and the efficient staff was nowhere in sight, obviously wanting to give the bridal couple their privacy.

The only evidence of the Setchfield servants was a brace of candles glowing on a side table.

Georgie wandered about the foyer, staring a bit wide-eyed at the glittering arrangement of fancy furniture, as well as the grim and forbidding paintings of Setchfield descendants that disappeared into the darkness of the stairway.

Instead of being properly awed, she seemed more bemused. “This is
your
house?”

“Not for long,” he said. Colin doubted his grandfather would feel obligated to let him keep it now that he had disgraced the family with his court-martial and lost the connection to Lady Diana.

“Because of . . . of what . . . what those men said about you?”

“Yes, something along those lines,” Colin said, not of a mind to go into the details. If she thought he had gambling debts, that was just fine with him. But he took some comfort in the fact that she didn’t seem to know who he was . . .

Why that suddenly mattered he couldn’t fathom.

“Well, if you have to give up this house, you should at least take some memories with you.” She moved closer to him, her eyes alight once again with her irresistible offer for a night of reckless passion.

Colin’s imagination gave way to any number of memories he could have about Bridwick House . . . mostly of her naked in his bedchamber upstairs.

“Where are the servants?” she asked, her fingers trailing along the edge of the silver salver on the table. “Gone for the night.”

She cast a sidelong glance over her shoulder.
How
convenient,
it seemed to say.

The stillness and solitude of the house were broken by the hypnotic sashay and rustle of her skirt. Her funny, hip-hopping stroll around the foyer, he assumed, was her attempt at a graceful turn. And yet he was mesmerized.

As she moved, the fabric of her dress shimmered in the candlelight, rippling like a restless sea about her lithe body. The undulating and caressing waves of the sea.

When he’d been a brand-new midshipman, barely thirteen at the time, there had been an old grizzled sailor on the ship who’d taught him much of the sea’s lore, including tales of mermaids—those wild, hoydenish sirens of the waves. He’d almost convinced Colin that they truly existed . . . And after all those years, now Colin suddenly believed.

Georgie was like one of those fey, wild creatures who the old sailor told him would magically appear one day—if only he looked hard enough—a gift from the Fates to a lonely sailor. A prize to catch hold of and never let go.

So when she swept toward him this time, his fingers caught her arm, the bare part between the lacy edge of her gown and the top of her long white gloves. He couldn’t remember ever touching anything so tempting, so silken in all his life.

Around him, the rare and intriguing scent of her perfume once again teased his nose. He took a deep breath and let it out.

“Who are you?” he asked, wondering if she were truly real.

She glanced up through her tangled curls. “Yours. Yours for tonight.”

He brushed her hair aside and looked once again into her eyes. Somehow he knew he could drown in their sable depths.

For as he tipped his head down to claim her offer, to throw himself over into her mysterious seas for tonight, he knew he wanted her . . . wanted her . . .

Always.

The startling realization wrenched him back. Always?

That wasn’t possible. Not after a few hours.

No more possible, he told himself, than mermaids.

He set her aside, putting enough distance between them to let the chill of the room cool his ardor.

“Here, let me fetch a light,” he said, catching up the brace of candles. “The one I took with me blew out, so I was coming downstairs to get another when I heard the carriage leaving.”

He sent her a significant glance about that mystery and the brazen chit grinned back.

Colin started for the stairway, and then realized if he took the light, he’d leave her in darkness. Besides, he didn’t feel right about leaving her alone. “Come along then.”

She cast him a sidelong glance and a sly smile.

He wagged a finger at her. “Oh, don’t get any ideas. You’re coming along so you don’t get into any more trouble.”

She nodded in agreement, but he had a feeling it wasn’t to anything he’d just said.

They climbed the stairs slowly, Georgie limping along on one shoe.

Colin stopped at the first landing. “Why don’t you take that blasted thing off? You’ll fall and break your neck hobbling along like that.”

She clung to the rail and pushed her foot out from beneath the hem of her gown. “Will you do it?”

Colin glanced down at the soft silk of her stocking, the gentle curve of her calf, and knew there was no way he was going to take a closer look. He had a good idea of the temptation that lay hidden beneath her hemline.

“No, thanks.” He started up the stairs again and then paused once more. “You do realize that we are here to fetch your money and then we are leaving. Immediately.”

“Of course.”

Her tone implied otherwise.

Once they reached the first floor, Colin marched determinedly down the hall.

Into the study. Open the sea chest. Count out her
coins. Leave.

He repeated his course of action with each step.
Into
the study. Open the sea chest. Count out her coins. Leave.