Too Scandalous to Wed (8 page)

H
enrietta had slept in. Drat! She was supposed to spend every waking moment seducing Ravenswood. But last night she’d had the most dreadful dream. It had started out pleasant; she and Sebastian tangled together in the bedsheets. But just when Sebastian was about to slip his hand beneath her petticoat, four ravens had swooped into the room and pecked out his eyes.

Henrietta let out a huff. Troublesome sisters. What the devil did they mean by threatening to interfere in her life? Henrietta wasn’t a child anymore. She didn’t need a guardian—
four
guardians. All she needed was a few more private rendezvous with Ravenswood.

Oh, lud! Madame Jacqueline had not instructed her on the art of ridding oneself of meddlesome sisters. What was Henrietta to do now?

The parlor loomed ahead. Henrietta could hear the buzz of chatter. She smoothed out her skirt and
took in a deep breath to soothe her agitation before stepping into the room.

Even among a crowd, Henrietta spotted Ravenswood with ease. There was something about the man: a magnetic pull that always teased her senses. My, he looked dashing, primped in a marine blue waistcoat and dark breeches, sooty black locks curling at his temples. But it was his eyes that captivated Henrietta. Smoldering eyes that darkened the moment she entered the room.

“Good morning, Henry!”

The four unanimous greetings had Henrietta seething beneath her composed cheerfulness. She was too late. The harridans had circled Ravenswood at the breakfast table. She couldn’t get anywhere near the man.

Still smiling, Henrietta tried not to sound too petulant. “Good morning, sisters.”

She took an empty seat at the far end of the table, her eyes resting on Ravenswood once more. She could see the fire burning in him. The fire she had ignited the night before with a sinful kiss.

Henrietta shuddered under his scorching gaze. The steel blue of his sexy eyes transfixed her. Made her giddy, too, for she realized then a night apart had not doused the flames of his desire for her. Capital! Now if only she could steal a few moments alone with the viscount to keep that fire burning.

Henrietta inclined her head and smiled. “Good morning, Ravenswood.”

But Sebastian had no opportunity to offer a return greeting, for the harridans captured his attention then with a plethora of mindless questions.

“Tell me, what do you think of the French lace at Penelope’s sleeve, Ravenswood?”

“How about the exquisite fringe on Cordelia’s shawl, Ravenswood? Isn’t it grand?”

“Of course, the green ribbon in Tertia’s hair is very fetching. Wouldn’t you agree, Ravenswood?”

“And let’s not forget the chemisette at Roselyn’s neck. It’s so fashionable, isn’t it, Ravenswood?”

Sebastian looked a bit spooked, surrounded by so many demanding females. He hadn’t a chance to breathe between answers, never mind look back at Henrietta.

Curse her sisters! They were going to occupy the viscount’s every waking moment, become a wall between her and her love.

Henrietta had a strong urge to flick forks across the table at her sisters.

“Here you are, Henry, my boy.” In a clandestine gesture, the baron pushed a crumpet on a white linen napkin across the table. “I saved the last one for you. I know how much you like sweets.”

“Thank you, Papa.” Henrietta gave her father a warm smile. She reached for the crumpet and buttered it, all the while telling herself she would
not
let her sisters disrupt the wonderful progress she had made with Ravenswood. She
would
find time to be
alone with the viscount. Her sisters could
not
devastate true love, however much they tried.

Henrietta stuffed the buttered crumpet into her mouth.

“You look weary, sister.”

Mouth full, Henrietta glanced sidelong at her brother-in-law Peter.

“I understand you didn’t get much sleep last night.” He sighed. “I believe I owe you an apology, Henry, for it was I who spoke with Penelope about Seb’s…attachment to you. I just didn’t think she’d fly into a tizzy about it.”

Henrietta swallowed the crumpet, her heart skipping a beat. She didn’t have time to be vexed with Peter for confiding in Penelope and setting in motion this whole blasted affair. She was only curious to know: “Do you really think Sebastian is ‘attached’ to me?”

Peter looked at her thoughtfully, almost hopefully. “I do.”

A surge of bubbly emotions stormed her breast. It was comforting to know she had an ally in Peter, that at least one member of her family wasn’t bent on destroying her chance at happiness with Ravenswood.

“Oh, Peter”—eyes darting across the table, Henrietta peeked to make sure no one was eavesdropping—“what am I going to do? My sisters are dead set against my marrying Sebastian.”

He whispered, “I’ll help you.”

“You will?”

Peter nodded. “It’s high time Seb settles down. You’re perfect for him, Henry, and he knows it. He’s just being stubborn.” Peter paused, then: “You do care for him, Henry, don’t you?”

“With all my heart,” she said.

“Right then.” Another firm nod. “I’ll take care of your sisters. You look after Sebastian.”

But for the present company, Henrietta would have smothered Peter with grateful kisses. “Oh, thank you, Peter!”

“Think nothing of it, Henry. This is all my fault anyway, so I’ll right the matter.” Peter looked down the table at his brother, then said, “I don’t know what you’ve done to Seb, but he’s not looked so smitten in…well, ever. So you just go about your way and leave the sisters to me. Oh, and Henry?”

“Yes, Peter?”

“Thank you for caring for him.”

She patted his hand. “You don’t have to thank me, Peter. The blackguard stole my heart long ago. I didn’t really have a choice in the matter.”

Peter smiled at that.

“Heavens, look at the time,” piped Roselyn. “We’ll be late for church!”

The whole table erupted in chaos then.

It was Christmas Day, and the annual Yule service was set to start within the hour.

“Fetch the children!”

“Ready the sleighs!”

Like a herd of horses, the family poured into the corridor and headed for the front door.

Henrietta busied herself getting ready: wrap, muff, fur hat. All the while, she slowly maneuvered herself next to Sebastian. Behind him, really. In the tumult of the household, he didn’t notice her standing there.

Henrietta was about to impart some whispered words—to remind Sebastian of the kiss they’d shared the other night—when Penelope whisked by and hooked her arm in his.

“Come Ravenswood.” Penelope smiled. “You’ll ride with Peter and me.”

Drat! Henrietta glared after the departing couple. She didn’t know how Peter was going to get her sisters away from Ravenswood, but Henrietta dearly hoped he’d come up with something soon.

Bless Peter! He’d caused such a ruckus in the household, Henrietta was sure to find a moment alone with Ravenswood.

The whole family was in a tizzy because Mama’s Christmas bell was “missing.” It’d been in Mama’s family for more than a hundred years, and it was tradition to ring the bell before the Yule feast.

According to lore, the little porcelain bell blessed the food
and
the family. No one could eat until the
bell sounded, so a troop of famished Ashbys were scouring the house, looking for it.

But Henrietta was looking for something a mite different: Ravenswood.

She bustled through the passageways, peeking into the branching rooms. She noted the parlor was empty, but just then a dark head popped up from behind the settee.

Sebastian.

And he was alone!

Henrietta took a moment to fluff her skirts and ease her thundering heartbeat. With as much aplomb as she could muster, she waltzed into the room.

“Any luck, my lord?”

Sebastian stopped dusting his trousers to stare at her, a seductive glow in his dark blue eyes.

Henrietta was having a devilishly hard time keeping her wits about her. For far too long, Sebastian had looked at her with platonic regard. Now each time he glanced her way, a carnal fire burned in his eyes. It delighted her to her very core, his wanton attention, but it also distracted her.

“I’m afraid not, Miss Ashby.”

So he was back to calling her Miss Ashby, was he? It didn’t matter. She’d have him breathing her nickname again soon enough.

There was a low timbre to his voice. “I can vouch, though, that the Christmas bell is not underneath the settee.”

Henrietta busied herself in the room, “searching” for the bell. “Where could it have gone?”

“Perhaps one of the children took it?” he said. “It is a rather shiny trinket, if I remember correctly.”

Henrietta peeked inside a vase. “The children pledge on all their toys they did not take the bell.” She looked into a tea caddy next. “But with the help of the staff, we should find the bell soon—before we all perish of hunger.”

“Miss Ashby?”

She purred, “Yes, Ravenswood.”

He bristled.

Drat! She had not meant to sound so wanton.

Coughing into her fingers, she said, “Forgive me. My throat is a bit parched. You were saying, my lord?”

He looked lost for words. In truth, he looked preoccupied with staring at
her
.

Henrietta felt a giddy rush of warm fuzzies tickle her right down to her toes.

“I was going to suggest, Miss Ashby, that you look inside the armoire for the Christmas bell.”

“Oh.” She skirted to the tall piece of furniture with glass inlays. “What a good idea, my lord.”

Henrietta opened one of the glass doors and poked around the shelves, behind the assortment of trinkets.

“You’ve a parched throat, Miss Ashby?

The fine hairs on the back of her neck spiked.

Sebastian was approaching. She could hear the soft click of his boots, smell the very masculine scent of him grow near.

“I hope you didn’t catch chill while you were ice skating,” he said.

Confident in Madam Jacqueline’s training, Henrietta assured herself she could do this; she could get Ravenswood to kiss her—on the lips this time.

“It’s just a little tickle. I’ll be fine, Ravenswood.”

Shifting through the precious heirlooms in the armoire, she ignored the loud thudding of her heart to ask, “How did you sleep, my lord?”

“Not a wink, I’m afraid.”

He was beside her now. She sniffed the spicy scent of cologne. Oh, it wasn’t fair to her senses that the man should look, sound, smell so sinfully delicious! It made her attempt at seduction all the more grueling, with the distraction he imposed.

“I’m sorry to hear that, my lord.”

“Are you really, Miss Ashby?”

“Why, of course, Ravenswood.” She peered behind a figurine. “We are friends, you and I. And friends always want what’s best for each other.”

“Hmmm.”

His warm breath tickled the soft hairs by her ear, making her shiver.

“About our friendship, Miss Ashby?”

Henrietta stopped searching through the armoire and looked at him. “Yes, Ravenswood?”

A storm raged in his sea blue eyes. “Do you really think we can be friends?”

The deep rumble of his voice did very pleasant things to her, arousing things. But she stifled her growing passion to respond, “Indeed, Ravenswood. Why do you ask?”

She was careful to match his low tone, to mimic the brewing desire reflecting in his watery gaze.

“I remember the first time we met, Miss Ashby.”

Unfortunately, so did Henrietta. “At Peter and Penelope’s engagement party?”

“That’s right. You were too young to attend the celebration.”

“Yes, I remember,” she murmured. “Mama had ordered me to bed.”

“But you did not obey.”

Henrietta shrugged. “It was a spectacular event. I
had
to see it for myself.”

“You almost broke your neck.”

“Rot! It was just a little tumble.”

But it wasn’t
that
little a tumble. Henrietta thought back to that both magical and disastrous night. She had crouched by the top of the stairs, peering below at the dashing guests streaming into the house. And then
he
had entered the main hall, decked in dapper garb of sinister black.

A peculiar spasm had gripped her heart. An omen really, telling her the viscount was special among all the rest. And to get a better look at him,
she had poked her head around the banister…and lost her footing.

Like tumbleweed, she’d rolled down the steps and landed right at Ravenswood’s feet. What a mortification!

“You were fortunate to have survived the accident, Miss Ashby.”

“My backside was a bit sore, is all.”

But upon mention of her sore backside, something dark, ravenous even, sparked in Sebastian’s eyes. A rather naughty look that Henrietta quite liked.

“Why do you bring up the past, Ravenswood?”

“It’s just that we’ve known each other for so long, Miss Ashby. I think of you as my—”

“Rubbish, Ravenswood.” She moved closer to him, wanting to slay the pestering thought before it took root. She was
not
his sister. She was his soul mate. And she was going to make the dratted man realize it in a matter of seconds. “Our years together will only strengthen our friendship.”

“Will they?”

Henrietta tensed. He touched her cheek with the pad of his thumb, stroking. Her lashes fluttered under his tender regard; her breath hitched.

“They will,” she whispered softly. “I promise. Trust me.”

His thumb moved to her lips, grazing the swelling flesh in light wisps.

Henrietta could see it in his eyes, his need to taste her. She had a similar longing. It burned and thun
dered in her veins, the desire to press her mouth to his lush lips.

Her carefully orchestrated seduction was slowly unraveling. She was not supposed to falter under his mesmerizing stare, but the deeper she delved into the glossy wet pools, the heavier she breathed—and the more she thrust her body forward, aching for his touch.

Fingers trembling, Sebastian lowered his head, and breathed, “Henry.”

Sweat pooled at the base of her spine, gathered under her breasts. She closed her eyes, her heart throbbing, and parted her lips.