The Bewitching Hour (13 page)

      She shot him a look of contempt. “He hasn’t enough money. I would have never considered him with any degree of seriousness. What do you know of Lord Fleming?”
      “His pockets are deep, but he has a predilection for much younger women. You are not his type.”
      “I’m not some ape leader huddled among the wallflowers,” she snapped.
      “No, my dear, you are far from that. But neither are you thirteen and virginal." He sipped his claret. "What a waste that would be. I find it hard to understand why even a man as old as your late husband could not be aroused by you. Though it was to my benefit. The time we spent together was lovely, wasn’t it? In fact, I don’t see why we couldn’t indulge in a little additional dalliance.”
      “Don’t be an idiot, Philip. I chose you because you have the family coloring. Not because I enjoyed your bed sport. It was a business arrangement.”
      ”I’m very disappointed to hear you say that, but I really don’t believe you. When I recall how you would gasp and moan beneath me. You found your pleasure. Don’t tell me you didn’t. In fact, allow me to lock the door and I’ll prove it.”
      “Shut up!”
      “Very well.” He sighed. “We will go on to other things. Who else is on your list?”
      She sent him a caustic look but said nothing.
      He clicked his tongue. “I’m only trying to help you in your selection. I would hate to see you poorly wed.”
      “You haven’t an ounce of concern for anyone other than yourself. You’re plotting something.”
      He tapped his fingertips on the arms of his chair. “I’m always plotting something. Now, who else are you considering?”
      “You were right when you said that there is a lamentable shortage of eligible men. Particularly ones who meet my requirements,” she said grudgingly. “The little French monster has utterly wrecked the marriage mart. So many men have gone off to war and gotten themselves maimed or killed. It’s terribly inopportune as I’d prefer someone who has all of his limbs and is reasonably young." She clasped her hands together as she thought. "Fortunately, it is still early in the season and not everyone has returned to London. I’m certain the selection will improve.”
      “I certainly hope so. Your happiness is of great concern to me.”
      Her eyes rolled upwards. “Liar.”
      He grinned at her, exposing a row of white, even teeth. “How true.”
      “Then what is it that you really want?”
      “The money you promised me. We made a bargain.”
      She glared at him in disbelief. Two years had passed. He couldn't possibly expect she would pay him. “Don’t be such a fool. There was no heir. The bargain was never fulfilled.”
      “I’ve sired three bastards, Madame. My seed is fruitful.” His voice was quiet. “It was you who could not nurture the child. I did my part.”
      “I carried for three months before the brat decided to die!” She'd hated being pregnant and had she not been so desperate to secure her position as dowager countess, she likely would have visited one of those awful places and gotten rid of the thing herself.
      “Calm yourself. There’s little to be gained by shouting. The servants hear enough as it is.”
      She shut her eyes and took in a breath. “It makes little difference. Without an heir, I lost the bulk of the inheritance. There’s nothing I can do to change that.” She stopped and looked at him. “It’s been almost two years since Edward died. Why come to me now?”
      He finished his claret and set the glass down. “The faro tables haven’t been in my favor as of late. I’ve a number of vowels scattered about town. Not everyone holding them is of genteel character. It could get nasty. I need money.”
      “Well, I can’t give it to you. Percy is the trustee and all he gives me is a paltry allowance. It isn’t near enough, but he won’t let me touch the principal. He cares nothing about my needs. After a year of wearing nothing but widow’s weeds and another six months of half mourning, I was in desperate need of a new wardrobe." She threw her arms out. Her cheeks burned with anger. "And I had to lease this townhouse and hire servants. It cost a fortune and I’m not even fully staffed! My expenses have taken most of my allowance. It’s bad enough that I have to justify every penny I spend to my miserly, pinch-nosed, brother-in-law, but you’re asking me to request additional funds to cover your vowels. Ask him yourself. This is your family, not mine.”
      “Do you think I haven’t? I’m in the same circumstances as you, but if you were to marry well, both of us would benefit. Considering the closeness of our relationship,” he said, grinning as she snorted, “your engagement to a wealthy aristocrat will buy me some time.”
      “You’re still reasonably handsome and can be quite entertaining when you aren’t so deep in your cups that you can't walk across the room. Why don’t you marry well and leave me alone?”
      He laughed with bitterness. “Possibly because I’m an impoverished baron with no land, no substantial means of support and a somewhat unsavory reputation. I move in the lowest circles with the other bottom feeders. What kind of a father would let his daughter come near me? Not one who could supply a generous dowry. My solution is far more logical. I propose another partnership, though this one won’t be near as much fun as the last.”
      His words made sense, but she was loath to admit it.
      “I will help you find a suitable husband and you will convince him that you need funds to pay off a debt. It seems more than fair.”
      “I don’t need your help finding a husband.” She crossed her arms.
      “A suitable, wealthy, titled husband," he clarified. "One who will accommodate your needs.”
      “And yours.”
      “Of course.” He got up to pour himself another drink. “You need information, Melissa. Lord Bennett is a perfect example. You assumed he was well heeled because he looked and played the part. I can find out things that you can’t. Looking back, had you known how heavily Lord Williams’ estate was entailed, would you have married him?”
      Her eyes flashed at this. “You know as well as I that I had no choice! My father had it all arranged. Edward received a young wife he could parade about on his arm and my father received a bucketful of money in return. My own father was willing to sacrifice me to suit his own purpose. Why should I trust you?”
      “You probably shouldn’t, but I don’t see where you have much of a choice.”
      “You can’t bully me, Philip. I won’t have it.”
      His lips curled. “I’m certain the present earl would be interested to know that his own son-in-law was one of your lovers. You bedded the husband of his beloved Becky. What were you thinking, my dear? He might even accept that Charles was unfaithful, after all it isn’t that unusual, but it would eat him alive that it was with you.”
      “How could you possibly know that?” She stopped abruptly realizing she had said too much and then continued on in a much more subdued manner, “It doesn’t matter. Charles would never admit to it. You couldn’t prove it.”
      “No, but Percy would believe it. And once he took his vengeance on Charles he would do everything possible to make your life miserable. Including sending you back to Northampton and tightening the purse strings even further.”
      Her hands gripped the arms of her chair until the knuckles went white. “You’re threatening me?”
      He shrugged. “Call it what you will.”
      “You’re hateful.”
      “Perhaps," he conceded. "But no more so than you. Now back to our original discussion. Who else are you considering?”
      She managed to bring her anger under control. “For the first time in years, Lord Stratton is in town for the season. Supposedly, for his sister’s come out, but I would imagine he is looking for a wife. In fact, the more I think about it, the more I believe he would be an excellent choice.” She narrowed her eyes. “I see that look. What nonsense will you tell me about him?”
      He snorted. “It isn’t nonsense. He does have considerable wealth and will come into even more on his father’s death, but I’m afraid you may have serious competition.”
      “Competition doesn’t concern me.”
      “You believe he won’t be able to resist your charms? I’m afraid that at present, he has set his eyes set on Miss Priscilla Hawthorn.”
      “Don’t be a fool,” she returned. “That’s impossible. She isn’t even quality ton. My father was an earl.”
      “An impoverished earl,” Montville corrected.
      She glared. “That’s of little importance. The aristocratic line is there. There is no comparison. She's a little Miss Nothing.”
      “But it
is
possible. Her uncle’s a baron. A wealthy baron. His holdings are just south of the borderlands of Scotland.”
      She sniffed. “That’s practically the wilderness.”
      “Had you seen Lord Stratton’s expression the other evening you might not be so smug. He was watching her on the dance floor while you were conversing. I’m surprised you didn’t notice. They've taken a stroll in Hyde Park and he has called on her at home. This is as close as Stratton has ever come to declaring his interest in anyone.”
      She sniffed at this assumption. “A walk in Hyde Park counts for little as does a meager social call.”
      “The look on his face tells the story." His shoulders lifted in a shrug. "Whether you accept it or not, he is smitten with her. You’ll never turn his head while Miss Hawthorn is around.”
      “You doubt my abilities?”
      “Your abilities aren’t in question. It’s just that the man appears to be quite besotted.”
      “What has that to do with anything? His family’s title has been around for centuries and that was achieved by joining good bloodlines and power, not by marrying some chit one fancies himself in love with. He isn’t a stupid man. It won’t last,” she said with a huff. “Infatuation rarely does. By the end of the season, he won’t even remember her name. I’ll make certain of it.”
      “Think this through, Melissa. What can you bring into the marriage that Miss Hawthorn can’t? Her blood may not be quite as blue as yours, but I don’t think Stratton cares. The Hawthorns have considerable wealth, so her dowry is likely quite substantial and...”
      “It doesn't matter," she broke in. "He doesn’t need money, but a man of his age is still ripe for seduction. A skilled lover would best suit his needs at present. Passion is a far greater motivation than love and you know as well as I that she can’t possible know her way around the bedchamber.”
      He rested his chin in his hand and appeared to think. “I must admit you’re superbly skilled between the sheets. Have you made up your mind at present?”
      “I have.”
      He sighed. “And you won’t consider anyone else?”
      “No.”
      “I know better than to try and change your mind. But changing Stratton’s mind might be just as difficult. Our best bet may be to dissuade Miss Hawthorn rather than Lord Stratton. This will take some thought.”
      “Then be back here tomorrow at one and I will listen to what you have to say,” she snapped. “But I don’t plan on wasting any more time. Now, if you will excuse me, I must dress for an afternoon engagement.” She rose and stalked toward the door. “You can find your own way out.”

“
W
here are you taking me?” Priscilla asked breathlessly. Stratton had taken her hand and was pulling her along so quickly she felt as if they were flying down the corridor of the Morrison's town house.
      “Somewhere we can have a few private moments.”
      “Why?”
      “I’m surprised you have to ask.”
      “Of course, I have to ask. I can’t read your mind.” She heard him laugh. “In fact, I’m quite sure I don’t want to read your mind.”
      He stopped so suddenly she ended up in front of him. He grabbed her by the waist and whirled her around to face him. “Do you want to return to the ballroom?”
      She lowered her eyes and said, “No. I suppose I should, but I don’t.”
      “Good.” He pulled her along another twenty paces, stopped in front of a white paneled door, opened it and drew her in behind him. He pulled the door shut and turned to her with a devilish look on his face. “This house is quite similar to others on the street and I took a chance we would find accommodations up here. Does this meet with your approval, Miss Hawthorn?”
      Moonlight spilled through a large window and the lantern he held cast a glow illuminating the closet. The shelves were piled with miscellaneous brick-a-brack, china and kitchen linens.
      "This was beyond the pale. She should be scandalized, even frightened. She wasn’t. “They’ll do,” she whispered.
      “We must be quick about this. Our absence will be noted if we’re away too long.” He pulled a piece of paper from his coat pocket and handed it to her. “The letter you requested, ma’am.” He held the lantern over her shoulder.
      “Thank you.” She opened it and began to read.

My Lord, It was with great disappointment that I left Grange and Gregory last Sunday. Yet, after pondering the circumstances, I cannot help but wonder if you caught a glimpse of me and, finding my youth troubling, left without acknowledgement. If so, you are forgiven. I grant that I am young and know little of the love between a man and woman, but please understand that I am not so young that I cannot know desire. The years between us are of little importance. I confess that the mere thought of you makes me tremble and to be in your presence, I cannot say what will happen. My imagination is limited by inexperience but my desire to learn is without bounds. There is so much for you to teach me. I fear my desperation for your touch brings out the boldness in me. Please meet with me at the same address at four o’clock next Sunday. For us to meet is madness, but I pray you will acquiesce. With deep affection, M

“The mere thought of you makes her tremble?” she questioned. “Oh, please. Isn’t that doing it up a bit? You do have a swelled head, my lord.”
      “Among other things.” He cupped his hands around her face and said tenderly, “I’m about to kiss you. You don’t mind do you?”
      Her arms went around his neck. The thought crossed her mind that if anyone found them she would be ruined. It didn't seem to matter. “You shouldn’t,” she murmured.
      She tilted her face up to him and his lips came to hers feather-soft and teasing as they brushed against her mouth and then lightly kissed the tip of her nose. He kissed each eyelid then moved down and caught her lower lip gently between his teeth and pulled, flicking her lip with his tongue. He caressed the line of her jaw and a feeling of warmth rushed through her and pooled in her belly.
      Her need for him swept through her. She parted her lips as his mouth covered hers. He swept the inside of her mouth and she responded in kind without understanding what she was doing or even why. She glided her tongue over his and tasted the sweetness of brandy. How could kissing could make her feel such odd sensations in other parts of her body. A dampness blossomed between her legs and she was filled with a raw urge, a desire she was desperate to fulfill. She wanted him in a way she didn’t understand. Immersed in his touch, his taste, his scent, she wanted nothing more than to be possessed by this man.
      She pressed up against him and he suddenly went rigid. “Don’t move,” he groaned. “Priscilla, hold still. Please.”
      She opened her eyes and looked at him. He appeared to be in pain. Her hand was trembling as she touched his face. “Did I do something wrong?”
      He shook his head then unwrapped her arms from his neck, settled her feet firmly on the floor and stepped back. “No.” His voice sounded strained. “You did everything right. It’s me.” Her heart was still pounding as he caught her fingers in his hand and kissed them. “Another second with you in my arms and I couldn’t have stopped. This isn’t the time or place.”
      “But.”
Later, then? Somewhere else? Dear Lord, what am I thinking? My mind has completely snapped.
      He took in a deep breath. “Move back a little. Give me a few moments and we’ll go back.”
      She took a step away from him and waited. Her heartbeat gradually slowed, her breathing became regular and her ability to reason returned. Suddenly embarrassed, she turned away. “I can’t think what happened to me. I’m not at all myself lately. I didn’t intend to be so brazen.”
      He touched her lips with his fingertips. Most of his face was in shadows, but she could see the odd glint in his eyes. “It’s time to go back. My self control is precarious this evening and I don’t dare test it further. I’m going to bid our hosts good-night and take the ladies home.” He sighed. “I wish I were taking you home with me. God’s Truth, you have me in a bad way.”
      She didn’t know how to respond, so she simply looked at him.
      They walked in silence until they reached the ladies withdrawing room. “Good-night, love,” he said softly. “I will see you tomorrow.”