TemptedByHisKiss (18 page)

As for the dowager, she was sipping sherry and chatting with a group of her most stalwart friends, while Mallory, also in the ballroom, was dancing with her favorite beau, Major Hargreaves. The radiant smile on her face signaled she wouldn’t be leaving his side for some time to come. With all the Byrons otherwise occupied, Meg realized she was in an excellent position to pursue Everett.

She couldn’t believe her luck when he strolled outside and onto the terrace—alone. Knowing her moment had finally arrived, she refused her dance partner’s offer of punch, then quickly found an excuse to escape him and lose herself in the crowd.

Despite the warmth of the late May night, she shivered as she moved out into the darkness, a faint breeze bringing the contrasting fragrances of roses and cigar smoke to her nostrils. Following the acrid part of the blend, she walked farther away from the sheltering protection of the ballroom. Everett stood a couple yards distant, his blond hair gleaming a few shades lighter against the evening sky.

Fresh tendrils of unease coiled just beneath her skin. He hadn’t notice her yet, so it wasn’t too late to go back. She had only to turn around and retrace her path. After all, this was the man who had tortured Cade. The monster who had ordered the rape and death of an innocent girl and the execution of her entire family. A man who thought nothing of betraying his country and the honor of his name.

Hesitant and suddenly unsure of the wisdom of her plan, her step slowed. Yet I must try to help Cade, she thought, knowing if she failed to make an attempt to aid him, she would forever after feel that she’d let not only Cade down, but herself. Her father hadn’t raised her to be a coward, and she refused to be one now.

Besides,
w
hat can Everett do to me here with an entire house full of guests only yards away?
If he tried something, she would simply scream. Wrapping her sense of resolve around herself like a suit of armor, she strolled forward.

At her approach, he turned his head, a stream of smoke trailing from his lips as he lifted his eyes to meet her gaze.

As if she had only just noticed him, she came to an abrupt halt. “Oh, my lord, I…pray beg pardon for the intrusion. I did not realize you were here.”

Flicking an ash off the end of his cigar, he lowered the cheroot to his side and bowed. “Please, do not upset yourself…Miss Amberley, is it not?”

“Yes. How good of you to remember, my lord.” All apparent politeness, she sank into a curtsey. “Well, I…um…I suppose I should be going.”

“You need not leave on my account,” he stated in a pleasant voice. “Although I must confess to some sur
prise at seeing you without a companion. I rather doubt your fiancé would be pleased to find you in my company.”

“No, I…am sure he would not.” She gave a small grimace, striving to look just the faintest bit embarrassed. “He…um…he and his brothers are in the card room, you see, and after the last dance, I just had to have some air—”

“Of course. An entirely natural response.”

She glanced around, as though checking to see if they were being observed. “Since we do have this opportunity to converse, there is something I have been meaning to say…”

“Really?” he said, curiosity clear on a face she might have found handsome had she not known what lurked beneath.

“Yes, but…” She gave a quick shake of her head. “I should not. Please forgive me. I ought to go.”

“But you cannot go now. Not until you tell me what it is you wish to say.”

Appearing to hesitate, she glanced around again before seeming to give in to an irrepressible need. “In no way do I wish to appear disloyal to my fiancé. He has been very good to me, but…”

“Yes?”

“What happened the other night between the two of you…well, I must apologize for his behavior toward you. I was appalled—shocked, if you must know—as well as mortified. I have never seen anything like that from him. I had no idea he could…snap like that and turn so violent. It was horrible, and I am deeply sorry for any distress it may have caused you.”

Surprise lit his eyes. “Do not worry yourself, Miss
Amberley. There is nothing to forgive. Major Byron—that is, Lord Cade—endured a very difficult experience during his military service. I have seen other men under similar circumstances who ended up in a far worse way than he has. I am sure with time he shall heal.”

She shuffled the toe of one slipper. “Yes, but what if he does not? What he did to you was unpardonable. Here you are, above reproach—a war hero who has received the very highest honors the nation can bestow—and he attacked you! If he could confuse you with this…Le Renard he mumbles about, then just think what might happen to the next gentleman he decides has done him wrong. And his brothers…”

“Yes?” Everett encouraged with soothing gentleness. “What about the Byrons?”

“They have all taken up for him, refusing to even consider that he might not be as well as he ought.”

“They are a close family and very loyal to one another.”

“Indeed they are. They have taken me under their wing, and yet…I do not always feel completely welcome.”

He took one of her hands and gave it a light squeeze. Only by sheer dint of will did she keep herself from yanking it away and wiping it on her skirt. “I understand you are only recently out of mourning,” he said in a sympathetic tone.

Needing to collect herself, she lowered her eyes to the ground. “Yes…my father passed away a few months ago. And my mother before that.”

“How very sad. I am sure you have acquired many friends here in London, but if I might presume, perhaps you could do with one more?”

Her gaze darted to his, then away again, her heart pounding with fear and elation. She hadn’t been sure it was going to work, but he seemed to be falling right into her palm. “Who could you mean, my lord?”

“Myself, of course, if you would allow me.”

“But Cade—”

“Cade need know nothing of it. It might seem odd, but I feel somehow responsible for you and Lord Cade. Perhaps if we meet on occasion with no one the wiser, I can offer you the occasional bit of counsel.”

“That would be most appreciated. Though I am still not certain it would work, what with Cade’s volatile nature.”

“Surely he doesn’t go everywhere with you?”

She paused, worrying a lip between her teeth as if she were considering. “I ride in the mornings and only take a groom.”

He smiled. “That sounds perfect. Mayhap I shall take a ride myself, and our paths shall just happen to cross while we are both in the park.”

Swallowing her nerves, she smiled back, wondering if she was only imagining the reptilian gleam in his eyes. “Yes. Perhaps we might meet there.”

Knowing she had taken all the time she dared, Meg curtsied and said her farewells. Everett gave her an elegant bow in reply.

Turning around, she hurried back to the ballroom. As she went, she couldn’t decide if she should feel glad of her success or afraid instead.

T
he next week passed in a curious mix of normalcy and furtiveness, as Meg proceeded with her plan against Everett. In the main, her routine followed its usual pattern—if constant rounds of morning calls, afternoon teas, excursions to the park, balls, routs, soirees, and the occasional evening at the theater or opera could be termed “usual.” She was so busy some days that she barely had time to change gowns before rushing off to another new social engagement.

With the exception of a brief lull just after the incident between Cade and Lord Everett, she and Mallory had continued to receive a plentiful supply of invitations and callers. Every once in a while she would catch an odd stare or hear the hushed whisper of some sotto voce remark. But as she had learned, the duke and his mother wielded far too much influence for anyone to risk giving her or any of the Byrons the cut direct, especially over what was now being dubbed
nothing more than “a lively bout of fisticuffs between gentlemen.”

Meg’s regular gentlemen callers certainly took scant notice, including Lieutenant McCabe, who stopped by Clybourne House more than once to take her driving or to escort her and Mallory for a stroll in one of the nearby parks. She was grateful for his attention, since she always enjoyed his company. Yet she felt guilty at the same time, as if she were taking advantage of his kindness. Of course, he still believed she was engaged, but
she
knew she was not, and therein lay the difficulty.

With the last full month of the Season upon them, Meg was aware that she ought to be getting on with the matter of securing a marriage proposal—and of all the eligible gentlemen, Lieutenant McCabe seemed the most likely choice. At least she could say she genuinely liked him, and imagined herself capable of spending more than an afternoon in his company without growing bored. But a strong liking seemed to be the limit of her affection for him, especially in light of her reaction to the passionate encounter she’d shared in the library with Cade.

In the three weeks that had passed since that evening, neither she nor Cade mentioned their embrace again. At first she supposed they had both been too wrapped up in the aftermath of his fight with Everett. But as one day melted into the next, and neither of them said a word, broaching the topic seemed to grow more awkward and unlikely.

Besides, what would I say? she argued to herself. It wasn’t as if Cade had made further overtures toward her, or in any manner indicated that he felt anything deeper for her than a few fleeting moments of desire.
And although he continued to maintain their ruse of being an affianced couple, it seemed to her that he had been going out of his way to make sure the two of them were never alone.

For her own part, she could not forget that night; memories of his touch and kiss remaining startlingly crisp and clear in her mind. Then there were her dreams, both waking and asleep, that plagued her body—and if she was honest, her heart, as well.

Gazing now into her dressing table mirror, she wondered if anyone else had noticed the strain. She supposed not, just as she guessed she ought to be glad for their inattentiveness. Stifling a yawn after another restless night’s sleep, she let her maid help her into a riding habit of dark green poplin, a color that was disturbingly reminiscent of Cade’s eyes. Brushing the notion aside, she hurriedly finished her toilette, so she could depart for the park before the hour grew too advanced.

Lord Everett would be waiting for her, she assumed. They never made any actual plans to meet, but he was usually in the park, always happening upon her as if by accident. She would then invite him to join her, the two of them walking their horses side by side while they conversed.

So far she hadn’t learned anything remotely useful in her quest to prove he was a spy. But then she supposed he wouldn’t be much good at such matters, if he were given to randomly spilling secrets. Another woman might have been discouraged at the initial lack of progress, but Meg remained optimistic. Even careful men made mistakes, she judged. She had only to watch and wait. At some point he would slip. When he did, she planned to be there to catch him.

She left through a rear door that connected the house to the mews and walked toward the stable. The servants knew her routine and had anticipated her wishes; an energetic bay mare stood ready for her use. Climbing into the sidesaddle, she arranged her skirts, then with a nod of thanks set out for Hyde Park.

From his upstairs window, Cade watched Meg ride out of the stable yard. Once she was gone, he let the curtain drop back into place, then turned to take up his morning cup of coffee. Blowing across the inky surface, he took a sip of the steaming brew, his thoughts occupied with Meg.

He wished he could have accompanied her, but didn’t yet trust his leg enough to ride. With continued improvement, he hoped to give it a try one of these days soon. Before his injury, he’d loved riding, and missed it far more than he liked to admit.

Meg was certainly an enthusiastic horsewoman, he knew, rising early so she could enjoy more than the sedate walk she would be forced to endure later in the day. Since coming to London, she had taken up the practice of riding out a few times each week. He knew she missed the occasional day, though, especially if she’d been out exceptionally late attending a ball or other entertainment the evening before.

This past week, however, she had been up and out not long after sunrise each morning, no matter what hour she returned home. He was often awake himself, and unable to keep from watching as she mounted her horse and rode off. There was a determination to her step lately that gave him pause. It was almost as if she were meeting a suitor.

The thought froze him in place.

Is she meeting someone? McCabe perhaps? Or one of the others?
With a scowl heavy enough to make his forehead ache, he set down his coffee cup before he broke it.

God knows I’ve done my best to stay away from her lately.
Not daring to trust himself around her again—certainly not alone. After what had happened between them that night in the library, he knew it was imperative he keep her at arm’s length.

Of course that was easier said than done, especially since their “engagement” required him to escort her out each night. But with speculation and schemes against Everett taking up a great deal of his attention, he was generally able to distract himself from thoughts of her. Night was the only truly troublesome time, when the house was dark and quiet and his mind had free rein to roam as it pleased. His dreams, over which he had absolutely no control, were a particular problem.

Grumbling low in his throat, he once again considered the notion that Meg had ridden off to an assignation. If so, he supposed he had no right to complain, given their bargain. Perhaps she was even now accepting an offer of marriage, assuring her would-be beau that she would be happy to break her engagement to her fiancé.

Thrusting his feet into a pair of shoes, he stalked across the room as fast as his limp would allow and flung open the door. Five minutes later he was in the stable yard.

He waved over one of the stable boys. “Which groom rides out with Miss Amberley to the park?”

“That would be Brown, milord.”

Cade nodded. “Well, when he returns, have him come see me.”

A peculiar look crossed the boy’s face. “Aye, milord. But the miss didn’t take him this morning. Ner y’sterday neither.”

“What?” Cade’s jaw tightened.

The boy, who apparently decided he’d be better off elsewhere, sprinted away without another word.

An older servant soon appeared, drying his hands on a rag. “Ye wanted to see me, my lord? About the miss?”

“Yes. I understand she rode out alone this morning. Why, may I ask?”

The servant looked uncomfortable. “’Twas on her orders. Said she were meeting a friend and didn’t have no need of me. I tried to talk her out of it, but she wouldn’t hear a word.”

Cade crossed his arms over his chest. “And just who was this ‘friend’?”

“He were a gentleman, milord.”

“And does this ‘he’ have a name?” Cade prepared himself, waiting to hear which one of Meg’s suitors had won her favor.

The other man wrinkled his forehead in thought. “If I remember right, I think she called him Everett.”

Cade’s arms fell to his sides. “What did you say?”

“Aye, that were it. Lord Everett.”

More than an hour after her departure, Meg rode into the stable yard with a clattering of horse hooves, dismounted, then hurried into the house.

Her outing had been an immense disappointment, the meeting with Everett proving as fruitless as ever. But at least I made the attempt, she consoled herself, rallying at the thought that she would have another
chance to try again. Perhaps the next time would do the trick!

Flushed and in need of a bath to wash the scent of horseflesh from her skin, she raced up the stairs, well aware that she was late getting ready for the promised shopping excursion with Mallory and three of their best female friends. Rounding the corner of the landing, she started down the corridor to her bedchamber.

Ahead of her, Cade emerged from the shadows, stepping into her path with his cane set at a pugnacious angle against the blue and brown Axminster hall runner. The expression on his face was menacing enough to make her halt in her tracks, his dark brows lowered in a glower that made gooseflesh pop out all over her arms.

She shook off the reaction, telling herself she was just being silly.

“So,” he said on a near growl. “You’re back.”

“I…Yes, I was riding.”

Even in the dim light, his eyes glinted, brittle as diamond-sharp shards of broken glass. Whatever is the matter with him? she wondered. The weather was sunny and warm, with no storms on the horizon, but mayhap his leg was hurting him again nonetheless. Had he done something to aggravate it?

She was about to ask when the dowager came bustling down the hall in a flurry of lilac silk.

“Good morning! Good morning!” Ava called, a wide smile on her attractive face. “How are both of you, dears? Slept well, I hope? Margaret, you have returned from your ride, I see.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Meg answered, aware of the sudden frustration rolling off Cade like a rough ocean current.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Ava continued, addressing
her. “But I have decided to accompany you and Mallory and your friends on your shopping excursion this morning.”

“Oh, of course, Your Grace,” Meg said. “We would be pleased to have you join us.”

The dowager smiled. “Thank you. You are very sweet. And not to worry, I shall only go as far as the fan makers. To my deep regret, the fan that matches my gown for tonight’s ball has come to a rather tragic end. Edward’s new puppy, it seems, wandered into my rooms and decided to use it as a teething chew. The poor lovely thing is quite beyond salvation. The fan, that is. Neddy’s naughty puppy continues in excellent health.”

Meg hid a smile, particularly at hearing the duke referred to as Neddy. “I am most sorry for its loss. Definitely, you must come and buy another.”

“Exactly.” Ava looked between her and Cade, a small frown crinkling her forehead. “Cade, are you well? You look as though you just ate a lemon. You are not in pain again, are you?”

Meg waited with interest to hear his response.

“No,” he said. “I am quite well in that regard, Mama. I merely wish to speak with Meg.”

“All right, if you are sure. But as for this talk, you shall just have to save it for later. Margaret needs to run along and change or else she will be frightfully late. Misses Milbank and Throckly will be here any minute.”

“But—” Cade began.

“No buts. You two can converse when we return. Now go on, Meg dear. Hurry along.” Ava made shooing motions with her hands, leaving Meg with no other recourse but to obey.

She cast one last glance at Cade, who looked even more furious than before, if that were possible. Wondering again what was wrong and why he wanted to speak with her, she hesitated. But the dowager shooed her again, and neither she nor Cade had any chance of overruling her. With mixed feelings of interest and trepidation, Meg continued to her bedchamber.

The hour had just turned one o’clock when Meg accepted a footman’s assistance and stepped down from the coach. Entering the town house along with Mallory, Edward, and Ava, she repressed a yawn as she shed her cloak, weary and in need of her bed after another very long day. In fact, she realized, this would be the first opportunity she’d had to stop for more than two minutes in a row, ever since awakening this morning for her ride in the park. Or rather
yesterday
morning, she corrected, thinking again of how rapidly the past several hours had flown by.

Making her way up the staircase, she bid everyone a fond good-night, the dowager pausing to give her a motherly kiss on the cheek before continuing on to her rooms, the others sharing sleepy smiles as they parted to seek their own rest as well.

As for Cade, he had not accompanied them to tonight’s ball, sending word that he would be otherwise engaged. Otherwise engaged doing what? she pondered. Was he in pain and stubbornly refusing to admit as much? Or was it something else?

Tiny lines formed between Meg’s brows as she considered the question. Only then did she remember his wish to speak with her, realizing that the hectic pace of the day had driven the matter completely out of her
mind.
Well, it is far too late to talk now
, she decided as she let herself into her bedchamber. The morning would have to be soon enough.

Yawning, she went straight through to her dressing room, where she found her equally sleepy maid waiting to help her out of her evening gown and stays. With relief, she soon slipped into a thin, white lawn nightgown and summer-weight robe of sheer, pale pink silk.

Moving into the small yet luxuriously modern attached bathing room, she washed her face and hands, then scrubbed her teeth with a tooth powder that tasted like cinnamon and cloves. After drinking half a glass of cool water, she wished Amy a good-night, then sent the drowsy young woman off to her own bed.