The Accidental Mistress (10 page)

Over the past two weeks, he'd expected to encounter Lily Smythe at one Ton function or another. Yet despite his efforts to seek her out, she had so far managed to avoid any of the events to which he was also invited. Assuming she was going out in the evenings—and he rather expected that to be the case—then Lily was obviously confining herself to small dinner parties and symposiums and such for ladies only.

Were it not for her rejection of the bouquet he'd sent, he might have put her elusiveness down to a circumstance of unfortunate coincidence. But he rather suspected her actions to be deliberate.

Since procuring her direction from Lady Coates on the evening of her party, he'd toyed with the idea of calling upon Lily at her townhouse. Given his brief acquaintance with her, though—at least in a public forum—he decided it might be wiser to find another method of wooing the mysterious widow Smythe.

Generally, he didn't indulge in chasing after women, especially ones who seemed reluctant to be caught. As a rule, he found women eager for his attentions, providing him with a more than ample selection from which to choose. Unfortunately, though, at the present time he had no desire for any of those women, his thoughts focused squarely upon one.

By now, he supposed he ought to have banished memories of his passionate encounter with Lily. Yet those few minutes of contact had remained lodged like an aphrodisiac in his senses, leaving him hot and hungry for more. Meeting her unexpectedly at the Coateses' had done nothing but increase his appetite.

At its base, he knew one thing for certain: he wanted Lily Smythe in his bed.

And by God,
he thought,
I mean to have her. Now all I need to do is convince her that's what she wants, too.

"So, tell me," Julianna inquired, intruding into his thoughts, "what feminine hearts have you been breaking lately?"

He paused, keenly aware of how close to his thoughts she had unwittingly come. "Alas none, dear lady," he said, recovering quickly enough to send her a flirtatious smile. "Not with your own heart already spoken for, that is."

"That's right, she
is
spoken for," Rafe Pendragon announced in a growl as he strode into the breakfast room, "and I'll thank you to remember it. No poaching, even if you are one of my best friends."

Ethan smiled and sipped his tea, knowing himself safe from Rafe's wrath. Of course, the situation would have been completely different had his words been even remotely serious. Rafe, as he well knew, would tear apart any man who attempted a dalliance with his wife. Not that Julianna was interested; she had eyes for no one but her husband.

Walking up to Julianna's chair, Rafe leaned over and gave her a quick but infinitely loving and tender kiss on the lips. Straightening, he nodded a friendly hello to Ethan before taking his own seat at the table.

A servant entered the room carrying a tall silver pot. Crossing to Rafe, he poured steaming coffee into the baron's china cup. Another footman followed, bearing a platter heaped with eggs, bacon, kippers, and kidneys. A silver holder laden with golden squares of toast was next placed onto the table, along with a basket of assorted muffins and crumpets. A bowl of freshly sliced fruit came last.

After helping himself to eggs, three slices of bacon, and a single kipper, Ethan added a delicious-scented blueberry muffin, then dug into the food with enjoyment. Rafe and Julianna made their own selections, then did the same.

Over the meal, the three of them talked, sharing stories and opinions on a variety of topics. Ethan waited until the plates were cleared and fresh cups of coffee and tea had been poured before he launched into the subject foremost on his mind.

"I understand you have a new neighbor here on the square," he remarked, stirring a teaspoonful of sugar into his tea, faint tendrils of steam rising from the beverage's surface. "A young widow, is she not?"

Julianna set her own cup onto its saucer. "Oh, you must mean Mrs. Smythe. Yes, she is new to the neighborhood. I had occasion to meet her when I took Cam out for a walk last week. She seemed very pleasant and sweet."

Ethan wasn't sure he would apply the term "sweet" to Lily given her spirited ways and behavior that would shock a great many in Society if they knew, including, he suspected, Julianna. Then again, perhaps describing Lily as sweet was exactly right—she'd certainly turned sweet in his arms.

"Why do you ask? Are you acquainted with her?" Julianna inquired, arching a dark brow.

Glancing down, he rubbed a thumbnail over the starched white tablecloth. "Only slightly. We were introduced at a dinner party a couple of weeks ago. I merely found it interesting to discover she purchased a townhouse on the opposite side of the square from you."

Julianna's mouth curled upward at one corner. "Ah, is that the only thing about her you found interesting?"

"I am afraid I do not know what you mean."

She laughed this time, Rafe joining her from across the table.

"You've been fairly caught, good fellow," Rafe said. "Julianna can sniff out romantic interest a mile away."

"Well, it's not terribly difficult when he gives such broad hints, now, is it?" She cast Ethan a warm smile. "Go on. What is it about her you should like to know, although I cannot say I know much, since she and I did not speak of personal matters."

He couldn't say he knew much about Lily either—he wondered if anyone did. Her friend Davina, perhaps, though he wondered if Lily kept secrets from her as well. He suspected she very well might.

"Mrs. Smythe is extremely pretty, is she not?" Julianna observed.

Smiling, Ethan relaxed back in his chair. "She is very becoming, if you like redheads. So, is she coming to your ball next week?"

Julianna nodded. "As it would happen, I did pen her an invitation."

"And?" Ethan prompted, his pulse kicking into a faster beat.

"And she accepted. Her card arrived just yesterday, as I recall."

He fought the impulse to grin like a fool, contenting himself with a silent inner shout of triumph. "Good."

"Is that all you have to say? You remind me of a cat who just swallowed a rather delicious canary."

Shrugging, he made no reply.

"Should I happen upon Mrs. Smythe again before the ball, shall I tell her of your interest?" she inquired in a teasing voice.

"No!" He felt his eyes grow large for a second before he recovered his calm composure. "That is, I would rather you not and give me the pleasure of renewing my acquaintance with the lady on my own."

"Never fear," Julianna promised, "I shan't say a word to her."

"My thanks, my lady."

After that, the conversation moved on to less sensitive subjects.

A short while later, Julianna made her excuses. "I really should go upstairs to the nursery. Heaven only knows what sort of mischief Cam may have gotten himself into by now."

Ethan and Rafe stood as she left the room.

Knowing Rafe must have business, and having a measure of his own awaiting him at home, Ethan prepared to depart.

"This widow," Rafe inquired. "She wouldn't happen to be the same woman who had you so thoroughly distracted over cards a few weeks ago, would she?"

Having known Rafe since they were childhood friends at Harrow—the pair of them and Tony a loyal triumvirate—he knew better than to attempt a lie. "What if she is?"

"Then I would caution you to have a care. She may be a widow but she is still a lady, and from what I am given to understand, a young and perhaps vulnerable one at that."

"I am aware of her age and the fact she lost her husband only a year ago. I do not intend to harm her, if that is your concern."

"I am sure you do not plan to do so. Yet what of this understanding of yours to contract a marriage alliance with the Earl of Sutleigh's daughter?"

Ethan gave a nonchalant shrug. "What of it?"

"You see nothing contradictory in the two arrangements?"

"No, since there is no
arrangement
as of yet with either young woman. I am not engaged to Sutleigh's girl and Lily Smythe is not my mistress."

"But you intend for her to be."

"If I do, that is my business," Ethan said, his jaw tight.

"You're right, it is your business. I am simply pointing out, as a friend, that you may wish to consider the ramifications of your actions before you commit to them."

"As a friend, I appreciate the warning. But there is no need. Everything will work out to everyone's mutual satisfaction."

Rafe gave him a long stare. "I hope so. Come now, let me walk you out while you tell me about that new team of grays you bought at Tattersall's last week."

Relieved to be done with the uncomfortable topic of his romantic intentions, Ethan dove into a discussion of his newest acquisition. "They're the best pair of two-year-olds I've seen in a decade. Livermoor's loss and my gain, I have to say."

* * * * *

The following Tuesday, Lily entered the Pendragons' ballroom, nervous excitement whizzing through her bloodstream like tiny effervescent bubbles of wine. Tonight would be her very first Ton ball, her prior experiences having been confined to the occasional country dance held at the assembly rooms near her home in Cornwall.

And what a difference there was between the two locales, Baron and Lady Pendragon's London townhouse was every inch as beautiful and refined as the company assembled. Gentlemen and ladies were bedecked in a sea of elegant finery, the corridors and drawing rooms crowded with members of some of the best families in England. Laughter and conversation hummed inside the ballroom as she walked forward on the arm of her escort. Overhead, crystal chandeliers sparkled in the reflected glow of several hundred candles, while many tall, rose-filled Meissen vases turned the air candy-sweet.

Despite her usual confidence, Lily found herself unexpectedly grateful for Lord Ottwell's supporting arm. To be honest, she would much have preferred attending alone, but as Davina had told her in a half-appalled whisper, such things were simply
not
done, as Lily knew full well. A lady must
always
be accompanied by friends, family, or a suitable male escort.

Since Lord and Lady Coates were already promised elsewhere for the evening, Lily had agreed to allow Lord Ottwell to take her to the ball. Although she had been introduced to him only last week at a small evening musicale, he seemed a pleasant fellow, ever eager to please, though perhaps a bit too eager, as she was coming to realize.

Having already been warmly welcomed by Rafe and Julianna upon their arrival, the two of them strolled deeper into the room to stop along its periphery. As soon as they drew to a halt, Lily withdrew her gloved hand from her escort's arm.

"The dancing has yet to begin," Lord Ottwell remarked, smiling just enough to display his set of crooked incisors. "May I be the first to request a dance?"

"Oh well, of course," Lily replied, manners requiring nothing less.

"I thought we might partake of a waltz," he suggested, gazing at her out of a pair of earnest gray eyes. "Unless you would rather not," he rushed on. "I know some ladies find the dance far too indecent and scandalous, preferring to sit out those particular sets. Not to say that you would, or wouldn't, it's just that I do not wish to offend. We shall do as you like, Mrs. Smythe." He cleared his throat. "So what do you like … that is, when it comes to dancing?"

She waited a moment to make sure he had finished his long trail of words, then replied. "A waltz sounds delightful. I should very much like to try it."

"Have you never waltzed before?"

"No," she answered honestly. When he looked as if he expected some further explanation, she decided she would have to improvise. "Prior to my … um … marriage I did not have the occasion, and then, well, my … husband died and I … I just could not."

His sandy brows gathered in concern. "Pray do not upset yourself, ma'am, by mentioning things that are of a far too painful nature. Tonight is meant for frivolity, and that is what you shall have. In that vein, it shall give me great happiness to introduce you to the joys of the waltz."

"Thank you, my lord."

A short pause descended, each of them gazing out upon their fellow guests.

"Lady Coates tells me you have not resided in London above a few weeks," he remarked, rocking up and down on his heels. "Have you had an opportunity yet to visit the sights?"

"Only a few. Davina … Lady Coates and I went to Astley's Amphitheater, and although the acts were quite exciting, I found myself feeling rather sorry for the animals."

"They seem well cared for. I am sure they must enjoy the audiences for whom they perform."

And do they enjoy their cages afterward?
she thought.
I know a bit about how it feels to live in a cage and long to be on the other side.

"You know what I would really like to do," she declared abruptly, throwing caution to the wind and speaking her thoughts aloud. "I would like to learn to drive a team."

"Of horses, do you mean?"

Turning her head, she met her escort's startled gaze. "Yes, of course, horses."

For although there was nothing strictly forbidden about a lady driving her own equipage, Lily realized that most women preferred to let men, quite literally, take the reins. She was not one of those women. A frown settled over Lord Ottwell's brow as he fought for a suitable reply.

Just then, she sensed someone approach from behind her. The delicate hairs on the base of her neck came to attention, heightened awareness prickling through her only seconds before a familiar velvety voice slid past her ears like a caress.

"Good evening, Mrs. Smythe. What a pleasure to find you here tonight."

A shiver that began at the base of her spine rippled outward, spreading all the way to the ends of her fingers and the tips of her toes. Slowly, she turned and gazed upward into Ethan Andarton's penetrating amber eyes.

Her breath caught at the sight of him, looking resplendent in a traditional black tailcoat and breeches, white shirt and waistcoat, his attire as impeccable as that of Beau Brummell in his prime. His starched linen cravat rivaled Beau's as well, the knot—tied in a precise
Tr�ne d'Amour
—emphasizing the strong, square line of his jaw and setting off the golden brilliance of his neatly trimmed hair.