To Protect An Heiress (Zebra Historical Romance) (11 page)

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Authors: Adrienne Basso

BOOK: To Protect An Heiress (Zebra Historical Romance)
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“I meant no offense. I would never dream of poaching on your territory.” Lord Mallory pulled a handkerchief from his coat pocket and pressed it to his brow. He was a stout fellow, prone to drink and occasional mean-spirited barbs, yet he usually lacked the backbone to do any fighting.
“We all know you are bound to get tired of her eventually, Dardington. You always do. That will leave the road clear for the rest of us to make a play for the lady’s affections and favor.”
Trevor had never considered himself to be an overly violent man. Yet the urge to smash his fist into Mallory’s nose and watch a spurt of blood stain that white handkerchief was nearly overpowering.
Yet he did not act upon his emotions. He held them in tight rein. Yet he was so close to Mallory, he knew the other man must feel the waves of anger emanating from his body.
“Lady Meredith is the daughter of an earl,” Trevor said. “She is a creature of delicate beauty, upstanding character, and refined sentiment. You, sir, are not fit to wipe her shoes.”
The last comments were hardly necessary. The expression on his face must have clearly conveyed his meaning, for Mallory got rather red in the face, began sputtering like a lackwit, and at the first opportunity took off like a shot.
Seven
Trevor waited two days before he called upon her. He deliberately arrived early in the afternoon to avoid the possibility of meeting anyone else. The gossip about their relationship had not abated. New tidbits of outrageous speculation had reached even Trevor’s ears. And there had been a note from his father reminding the marquess to stay away from the girl until the furor died down.
Which, of course, made Trevor realize it was essential that he visit Lady Meredith. The door to her family’s Grosvenor Square home was answered by a meticulously dressed butler possessing a most dour expression.
“Lady Meredith is not at home, my lord,” the servant insisted the moment the marquess gained entrance to the establishment.
Trevor grinned charmingly at the expected response. “Perhaps Lady Meredith will change her mind when she reads my card.” The card he casually slipped into the butler’s reluctant hand was accompanied by a gold sovereign.
The servant’s eyebrow’s raised fractionally as he studied the gold-embossed name. Then the coin disappeared from view. “I’ll see what I can do, my lord.”
The marquess was kept waiting no more than a minute. Trevor looked up expectantly, but to his great consternation saw another gentleman approaching from the second floor.
“Ah, so that’s the way the wind is blowing,” the other man said. He nonchalantly smoothed the lace of his cuffs over the back of his well-manicured hands, then smiled broadly. “Though I’ve naturally heard all the rumors, Lady Meredith failed to mention you were among the current admirers she receives at home. As much as it pains me to lose her, it is far from a disgrace to be beat out by you.”
Trevor stared hard at Julian Wingate. He had a narrow, arrogant face many women considered handsome, though Trevor thought there was an air of superiority about him that detracted from his features. Wingate was a military man, assigned to Wellington’s own staff, yet his civilian dress of breeches, half boots, and a smartly creased coat suggested otherwise.
“I did not know you had returned to town,” Trevor commented.
“I’ve been back a fortnight,” Wingate replied cheerfully. “I resigned my commission last month. ’Tis good to be home.”
Any further conversation between the two men was interrupted by the reappearance of the butler. “This way, my lord.”
“Good luck, Dardington. Unless her ladyship’s mood has improved considerably, I fear you shall need it.”
The marquess watched the other man saunter casually down the hall and make a leisurely exit out the front door. Trevor was now completely unsure what to expect and was heartily relieved to find the drawing room contained only one person, Lady Meredith. Her back was toward him as he entered the room, but she whirled around at the sound of the door opening.
“Good afternoon, Lady Meredith.”
For a moment her eyes looked blankly into his. Then she lifted her hand, rubbed her temple furiously and muttered something beneath her breath. “Apparently my butler has difficulty interpreting my orders. How much did it cost you to gain entrance?” she asked.
“Pardon?”
“My butler, Perkins, is still somewhat distressed over an incident that occurred several days ago. Your presence, along with that of Julian Wingate and Lord Fairchild, indicates Perkins has not yet forgiven me.” She crossed her arms and stared at him with compressed lips. “Though well paid for a man in his position, I cannot imagine he would have the fortitude to forgo this sort of money making opportunity. How much?”
The marquess smiled. She looked stunning, as always. The simple pink-striped, high-waisted day gown highlighted the glow of her alabaster skin and neatly showcased her long-limbed beauty. “A gold sovereign,” he reluctantly admitted.
“Ah, you are either more generous or more desperate than my other callers. They paid only half a guinea.”
“It was worth every last cent,” Trevor said honestly. Though he had seen her only a few days ago, he felt this sudden strange longing to be near her. He was in the process of taking a step forward when he realized his intentions. Fighting the pull, he stiffened his spine and rocked back on his heels.
“Perhaps it would be best if you had a word with Perkins,” Trevor suggested. “I’m sure if you spoke to him sternly enough, he would not dare to cross you.”
“And ruin his windfall?” Meredith laughed lightly. “That would be very cruel. At this rate he should be able to comfortably retire back to the country before the year is out.”
“I would never stand for such insolence from a servant,” Trevor declared firmly, though in truth he knew his own valet could be positively tyrannical at times. “You might even consider sacking him. Or at the very least demoting him.”
She smiled, very slowly. “Perkins is employed by my father and therefore answerable only to him. I have neither the authority nor the inclination to terminate his employment.
“Besides, he has done us a great favor by coming to town. He usually oversees our ancestral estate in Yorkshire, which he has often remarked is a far grander position. Perkins has only recently come to London to assume the duties here when our former butler became gravely ill.”
The marquess was not impressed. “I would be concerned about such disloyalty within my household.”
“You should be pleased at Perkins’s display of insubordination. If he was a more scrupulous servant, you would have never gained entrance to my drawing room.”
Trevor could feel the rush of heat in his cheeks.
Good lord, was he actually starting to blush?
“I suppose it is rather ungrateful to denounce my cohort.” Trevor assumed what he hoped was a wounded, contrite look.
Meredith’s eyes darted knowingly back and forth between his. Trevor resisted the urge to tug at his cravat, which suddenly felt a bit tight and constricting.
“You must tell me, my lord, what urgent matter required your corruption of my staff.”
“Certainly.” The marquess gestured toward the sofa. “May I?”
“If you must,” Meredith replied, biting the words through clenched teeth. She moved aside so he could gain entrance to the center of the room. “I had hoped you would not be staying long enough to require a seat.” He paused, tilted his head back, and gave her a smoldering smile. The backs of his calf touched the edge of the settee, yet Trevor deliberately remained on his feet.
“Oh, for heaven sakes,” Meredith huffed ungraciously and flopped into a chair.
He marveled that her graceful beauty was still evident, even when she was trying to be a bore.
“Why was Julian Wingate here?”
“That is none of your concern.”
Her voice was strong and steady, but he caught the unease quiver in her eyes and realized her bravado was a mask for her nervousness.
“I thought Wingate was engaged to be married,” Trevor said.
“He is, and to a woman of my acquaintance. She is the sister-in-law of my oldest friend, which makes the situation even more awkward.”
“How so?”
Meredith shrugged nonchalantly. “Though the notion might be considered old-fashioned, or even stuffy, I feel his intentions toward me are hardly appropriate for a man about to be married.”
“Do you believe he will renounce his fiancée if you favor his suit?” Trevor scowled as an even more unpleasant thought came to mind. “
Do
you favor his suit?”
Meredith rolled her eyes. “Mr. Wingate was not offering me marriage.”
Trevor shot to his feet. Annoyance billowed through him. “He shall answer to me for such insolence.”
“Oh, do sit down, my lord.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “What did you expect? After your little display at the park the other afternoon, I have been on the receiving end of several less than reputable propositions. At the theater last night, not one respectable woman spoke directly to me. It was as if I were invisible.”
“Your reputation?”
“In shreds, I fear. Though it might be restored in time. One can never tell with this sort of thing.” She ran her tongue thoughtfully over her upper lip. “Not that I mind all that much. Truly. I have never overly enjoyed society, though I confess I prefer having the option of rejecting the
ton
instead of the other way round.
“However, I am very concerned about how this will impact my brothers. Already there are several fathers who have made rumblings that they do not wish their young, impressionable daughters to associate with them.”
Trevor huffed. “Your brothers are both far too young to be considering marriage.”
“Perhaps. Yet I have learned through years of observation that doors closed are seldom reopened. I would not wish that to be my brothers’ fate.”
She lowered her eyes, and he noticed she was fidgeting with the single flounce on the skirt of her gown. Though she was trying valiantly to make light of the situation, it was clear she was unhappy. And regretful.
“Do you know what you need?” he asked, gazing at her steadily. “A little reminder of what landed us in this hornet’s nest in the first place.”
He reached out and curled a stray wisp of blond hair around her ear. She looked up, clearly caught off guard. A wave of tenderness and desire surged though him. Taking her lovely face gently between his hands, he held her head still and pressed his lips upon hers.
He wasn’t sure she would accept his kiss. He felt her stiffen, hesitate, but then, to his great joy and relief, her lips parted to welcome the thrust of his tongue.
The sweet taste of her nearly made Trevor dizzy, bringing forth a rush of pure pleasure to every nerve in his body. He slipped one arm around her back, pulled her closer to him, and continued to kiss her mouth slowly, intimately, until he heard her moans of excitement. She was a passionate creature, and he yearned for her in a way he almost could not understand.
He softened his lips and moved over hers in gentle, exploratory touches. His fingers lightly caressed the delicate, vulnerable place where her neck and shoulder joined, and then the tip of his tongue followed the same path. She moaned louder and curled her arms around his neck, straining upward toward his heated body.
Trevor inhaled her warm, womanly scent, and his spiraling arousal reached the heights of sweet desperation. He felt as though he were standing on a cliff and the ground was slowly giving way beneath him.
Suddenly, he pulled his lips away. He could feel her trembling in the curve of his arm, yet he knew if he allowed this to go any further, he would end up seducing her on the drawing room settee.
Their eyes met and held, mere inches apart. In that instant she was so open, so beautiful it nearly made his heart stop. Trevor cleared his throat.
“In the midst of all this misery and scandal you have overlooked the simplest, most direct way to end it all.”
“I have?” she whispered.
“Yes.” Unable to resist, he nuzzled the side of her throat. “We could get married.”
She jerked in response and stared at him incredulously. “You are joking.”
“I am alarmingly serious.”
This was hardly the first proposal of marriage Meredith had ever received. In her coming-out season alone, there had been an even half dozen offers for her hand. Lovestruck youths on bended knee, mature widowers who spoke of companionship and security, accomplished rakes who smoothly vowed to forsake their hedonistic ways and transform themselves into pillars of society, had all crowded this very drawing room.
There had been endless praise of her beauty, her spirit, her womanly charms. The proposals were as varied and unique as the men who made them, yet they shared one very important trait. They each had left her feeling slightly queasy and completely disinterested.
Yet the marquess’s remark, spoken in an almost offhanded manner, had not brought forth the usual reaction. His words had opened up a well of endless possibilities within Meredith’s soul. They had miraculously struck a chord somewhere deep within her.
She dared to look into his blue eyes, and for just an instant felt herself falling into them. But she could not! It would be disastrous for them both. Meredith shook her head slightly and resolutely put her attraction to him aside.
“That is a most impossible suggestion, my lord.”
He leaned down and kissed the top of her hand. “Are you very certain, Meredith? I promise it would not be all that grim to be married to me. I am hardly a man who would insist upon obedience and submissive behavior from you.”
“Therein lies the dilemma, my lord, for I would expect that of you.”
“Submission? Or obedience?” He smiled softly, and Meredith realized he did so rarely. Perhaps that was for the best. The devastating charm his relaxed smile evoked played havoc with her peace of mind.
Before she realized his intent, he kissed her again. Deeply, passionately, and with such gentle eroticism her lips tingled. He kissed the edge of her temple, the side of her cheek and the corner of her mouth. She put her hand on his chest and felt the solid wall of muscle beneath. Her thought was to push him away, yet the unbearable tension knotting inside her left her feeling almost too weak to accomplish the task.

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