“A word I doubt Miss Bigby even knows.”
“Stop,” she said with a feigned swat to his arm. “And why are we dancing?”
“Because I want to dance, and you have yet to find a partner who meets my fastidious demands.”
Louisa couldn’t help but giggle. “I do apologize. I understand you do not like giggling ladies.”
“I never minded your giggle.” He stiffened as if realizing he’d made an error.
She went silent for a long moment. “What is the next dance?”
“I believe it is time for a waltz.”
“A waltz?” she squeaked. “I might step on your feet or stumble.”
“I shall take my chances,” he retorted.
He gathered her near as they waited for the music to start. Damn him for choosing this dance for their first dance together. Having him near was overloading her senses. His heady scent surrounded her. She could feel the heat of his gloved hand on her upper back, which sent strange sensations to her belly. How had Harry become so dangerous to her senses?
She could barely catch her breath with him so near. Never had she been this close to him for such a length of time. But she wanted more. Who was she fooling? He didn’t want her. The man was all but glaring at her right now. A duke as particular as he was about his future wife would never think of her as a possibility.
Unexpectedly, she felt like crying.
As the dance ended, she said, “Excuse me, I must find the ladies retiring room.”
“Of course.”
Louisa left the room as quickly as she could, but instead of finding the retiring room, she headed out to the gardens for some peace. She needed to be away from the allure of the one man she could never have without destroying her sister’s future and even poor Charlotte’s future. How could she think for one moment that she could be with Harry?
Damn her mother and Tessa for all they had done that caused Harry’s father to kill Tessa’s husbands. She supposed caused was too strong a word. All Tessa had wanted was for Louisa and Emma to find a good match.
Louisa walked back to the far end of the garden, hoping no one would be out this far on a chilly night. There was a lovely bench in the rear surrounded by rose bushes that wouldn’t be in bloom for months. She sat down on the cold, wrought iron bench and wiped a tear away.
The Season had started, and now she was having second thoughts about trying to pursue Harry. She was a damned fool. Why would he want to be with her? She was the plain Drake sister. The two beautiful sisters had men.
Perhaps she should find him a wife in truth.
“Damn you, Harry.” Why did he have to be so damned handsome?
“Is it your turn to curse me now?”
She started and then slowly looked up at the imposing man. “What...how...why did you follow me out here?”
“Well, I noticed you didn’t quite make it to the retiring room. I decided to make certain you stayed safe. Why were you cursing me?” Harry moved to sit on the bench with her.
“You shouldn’t be out here with me alone,” she said, trying not to notice how the side of his muscular thigh touched hers or how much his presence seemed to warm her body.
“What happened to my impetuous Louisa who never cared what anyone thought of her?” He touched her chin to turn her head toward him.
Don’t look in his eyes, she told herself. Do not do it! “It has been a difficult few years, Harry.”
“I can’t apologize enough for my father’s actions.”
Louisa shook her head. “It is far beyond just what your father did. My father had plenty of blame for our current situation, as does my mother.”
“What exactly happened, Louisa?”
“I cannot speak of it. Not even to you.”
He reached for her hand and squeezed gently. “You know I have always kept your secrets.”
She nodded. Still, she had never told Harry. She’d never told anyone. When he departed for India, she had lost her confidante. With a deep breath, she started, “My mother decided Tessa needed a Season when she was eighteen. My father fought her on it due to the expense involved. But she insisted and my father...” she pressed her lips together to keep her tears at bay.
“My mother purchased the gowns for her and had arranged for a house in town. My father stole money from the bank in Cornwall, where he worked to pay for everything. Emma and I were visiting our aunt while all of this happened. When we returned, we were told he had died, and we were moving to London that very day. We were never even allowed to visit his gravesite, which of course didn’t exist because he was in prison.”
She shook her head and wiped a tear. “After his imprisonment, my mother came to London and began the story of how she was a widow of a London banker.”
“Which should not have been enough to get her into Society,” Harry commented.
“No, she used her connections to her uncle, Lord Greyson. And that is where my sister takes over by befriending your father.”
“I see,” he replied stiffly.
“Once your father noticed my sister, my mother was able to influence him to gain invitations to certain balls and parties. Once Tessa married Langley, we were all in Society. After Langley died, the small inheritance kept us from the poor house. Tessa paid some of our father’s debt, and the rest went to maintaining our position in Society.”
“When did you discover all this?”
“After your father died. Tessa finally admitted everything to me. Until that time, I still believed my father had died in Cornwall.”
“I’m sorry, Louisa. Why didn’t you write me?”
“You were mourning your wife and your father. I didn’t wish to disturb you with my troubles. And you hadn’t returned any of my letters of condolence, so I saw no point.”
“I am dreadfully sorry for that,” he whispered, staring out at the gardens. “Have you spoken to him?”
“Not in any detail. My father came for Christmas at Tessa’s. A part of me is still angry with him for what he did. He shouldn’t have allowed my mother to plan a Season for my sister when we didn’t have the money.”
“He loves his daughters and wanted only the best for them. Anything to make them happy.”
“Well, that didn’t work. My father went to prison. Tessa married three men she did not love because of the guilt she carried over our father. And now we’re all living a lie.” Every time she thought about what they all had done, her stomached roiled.
She glanced up into his eyes and was lost. Her gaze fell to his lips, which were full but not too full. Perfect for kissing. She could see the stubborn stubble on his chin where his valet didn’t get close enough.
“Louisa, stop looking at me like that,” he said in a low tone.
“I cannot seem to stop lately,” she whispered.
He muttered something under his breath as Louisa brought her lips to his. It was nothing more than a quick kiss until he wrapped his arms around her. Turning her body towards his, she opened her mouth for him. He responded quickly, deepening the kiss. She trembled as his tongue brushed against hers, sending waves of desire through her. Skimming her hand over his cheek, she felt his strong jawline and then let her fingers touch his hair. He’d cut it before coming to town, and she missed the slightly longer length.
The world slipped away until they were alone, not in a garden where anyone might stumble upon them. She shivered as his large hands cupped her cheeks, caressing them as he continued the passionate assault on Louisa’s senses. Never could she have imagined kissing her dearest friend would make her melt. But now she felt she could crumble to the ground if she let go of him.
He broke away and rested his forehead on hers, breathing hard. “We really must stop,” he whispered.
Louisa closed her eyes as she attempted to get her breathing under control. “Of course. I must apologize.”
“For what?”
“Kissing you.”
“Louisa, I kissed you too. I owe you an apology.” He
moved away from her. “I shouldn’t have kissed you. It will never happen again.”
Oh, that was where he was wrong. They would kiss again. She had to get her emotions under control before returning to the ball. Now that she knew he was not immune to her, she would never back down. But for now, Emma had insisted that Louisa had to try to make him jealous tonight.
“I must go back to the ballroom. I promised Collingwood another dance.”
“Then, by all means, go. You wouldn’t wish to keep Collingwood waiting,” he grumbled, moving away from her.
“Do not be angry with me,” she shot back. “Collingwood was your choice.”
Before he could say another word, she jumped up and raced back to the house with a determined smile.
Chapter 12
HARRY TOSSED THE COVERLET off and scrambled out of bed. There was no point in lazing about when he hadn’t slept at all. Every time he closed his eyes, the image of Louisa’s lips on his compelled his eyes to open to remove the picture from his mind.
After seven years, he’d finally kissed her. She may have kissed him first, but her innocent kiss scarcely counted. He had taken control and returned her soft kiss with seven years of pent up frustration. Her sweet tongue had brushed against his, wreaking havoc with his restraint.
For years he’d assumed if he ever kissed her it wouldn’t be enough...he would want more. He couldn’t have been more wrong. More wasn’t what he wanted, but what he needed. Needed to feel her body against his. Needed to taste every inch of her body and desperately needed to be deep inside her.
Whatever had possessed him to return her kiss? He was a bloody fool to succumb to the tears in her eyes. Only some semblance of sanity had forced him to break away from her tempting kisses.
A hint of anger still lingered in him with the thought that it had taken her seven years to accept a kiss from him. Seven years they could have been together. Now too much stood between them for any lasting happiness.
He’d hurt Sabita by forcing her to leave her family, among other things he could not think about. He refused to hurt Louisa. They could never be together when doing so would dredge up old gossip for all involved.
After putting on his trousers, he paced the room. The restless energy inside him wouldn’t subside. How he wished he’d never returned to London. Never saw Louisa again.
For the past two years, he’d all but put her out of his mind, except for the fleeting thoughts of her smile that would drift into his consciousness. Or the wonder of what she was doing at the exact moment he thought of her. But no more.
A ride would ease his frustration today. He had to stop obsessing over Louisa. Surely a fast ride through Hyde Park at this early hour would help. After ordering Hercules saddled, he dressed and left the house without eating.
Turning into the park, he sighed with relief. At seven in the morning, the park was nearly empty. Most people were probably still sleeping off the excesses of the night at Lady Leicester’s ball. But he wasn’t here to think about last night. He was here to put the previous evening out of his mind. Urging Hercules to a gallop, he raced down the path until he noticed a rider coming toward him.
All he’d wanted was a little peace this morning. Now he would be forced by good manners to stop and talk to this man.
But as the rider came closer, Harry’s scowl turned into a smile as he reined in. Simon slowed his horse and tilted his head with a grin.
“You’re up early after a late night of amusements at Lady Leicester’s ball,” Simon commented.
“And I thought you were going to meet a lonely widow.”
Simon laughed. “You know ‘the best-laid schemes o' mice an' men’ and all that.”
Harry still wondered where Simon received an education that would have him reciting Robert Burns. While his mother had been an opera singer, Simon’s stepfather was only a lowly baker. Perhaps his mother had been well educated. She’d been cultured enough to keep his father engaged for over a year.
“Do you still box?” The idea of a ride had been a good thought, but Harry needed more.
Simon’s lips rose slowly. “I own a gaming hell. Of course, I visit the pugilist saloon with my man Riley at least once a week.”
“Want a go at me?”
“A chance to punch my older and titled brother. Who could resist such an opportunity?”
“Excellent,” Harry replied. “Shall we head to Bond Street, then?”
“At this hour?”
“Yes.”
Simon nodded. “As you wish. Am I supposed to take it easy on you?”
“No,” Harry replied, urging Hercules to a walk. “Just not the face. I don’t want to scare my daughter.”
“Or any of the unmarried ladies.”
Harry cringed. “Please, not a word about that after last night.”
“So, this is about relieving some frustration from the ball. Not to worry, then. I do know how to aggravate many people.” Simon rode ahead with a chuckle.
Harry couldn’t help but smile at his younger brother. Already, a feeling of lightness slipped over him after a few quick words with Simon. Once they arrived at Gentleman Jackson’s Saloon, they stripped down to just their trousers and shirts.
“You two are in early,” Jackson said as he entered from the rear of the establishment. “I do hope you both are here strictly for exercise.”
“Of course,” Harry replied, knowing Jackson’s reputation for following strict rules.
“Excellent. I have an appointment with a lady who likes to box in private for exercise.” Jackson picked up his hat and headed for the door. “Good morning, Your Grace, Mr. Kingsley.”
“A woman who likes to box,” Harry commented as Jackson departed. “How odd.”
“Sounds like my kind of lady. Gloves?” Simon asked, pointing to a selection of boxing gloves.
“Yes.” Simon preferred bare-knuckle boxing, but Harry only wanted to relieve a bit of frustration.
“Was it the blonde or the brunette who has you so bothered today?” Simon asked, holding up his fists to block a punch.
If Harry could have clenched his fists tighter, he would have, but the gloves where so thickly padded, he couldn’t. How did his brother determine the source of the issue so quickly? “Louisa,” he muttered, striking out but he hit nothing but air as Simon nimbly moved away.
“Your dear friend.” Simon’s fist snaked out and landed a hard punch to Harry’s side.
“Yes,” he bit out before finally getting a blow to Simon’s midsection.
“If you’re so bothered by her, why is she not the one you are courting?” Simon danced away from another attempt.
“I cannot.” Harry groaned as his brother hit him again. “Dammit.”
“Come on, Harry,” Simon taunted. “Hit me. Think about how it felt to watch her dance with other men last night. How it would feel if you could only kiss her.”
Harry’s anger flowed over him like molten lava, firing his fists to action. He finally landed a punch that sent his younger brother reeling backward.
“That’s more like it,” Simon groaned before waving him back. “Come on.”
Harry secured another shot to Simon’s upper arm and then to his belly again. Simon hit back.
“I do wonder if any of the gentlemen kissed Miss Drake last night,” Simon mocked.
Harry did his best to ignore the taunting from him. Instead, he focused on gaining the upper hand in this contest, but Simon’s practiced moves were lithe and light.
“I should have focused my attention on her. She must be something special.” Simon avoided a jab to his middle. “Perhaps, I am just what she needs.”
The idea of any other man kissing her, much less his wicked brother, infuriated him. Forgetting their rules, he slammed his fist into his brother’s jaw. “You’re not going to touch her.”
Simon fell back against the wall with a bloody grin. “Feel better yet? That last one was more than I expected from you.”
Harry closed his
eyes and nodded. “I apologize.”
“Let us go get some breakfast and talk about what happened.” Simon held out his hands for the attendant to remove his gloves. Another man gave him a cold cloth for his jaw.
Harry followed him, but the feeling of shame would not leave him. He’d allowed his brother to goad him into injuring him.
“We need sustenance,” Simon said once they were both dressed. “And since you bested me, you must feed me.”
“Something tells me I would never have won if you’d been serious.”
Simon only shrugged.
By the time they arrived back at his home, Charlotte was on her way for a walk in the park with Nurse.
“Uncle Simon!” she shouted, seeing him jump off his horse. “We’re going for a walk in the park. Will you come with us?”
Simon picked her up and kissed her cheek. “Sorry sweetling, your father and I just returned from the park.”
“Please,” she begged.
“Not today.”
“What happened?” she asked, touching the mark on his jaw that had already started to turn purple.
“Your father punched me.”
“Simon,” Harry said in a low tone.
Charlotte laughed. “Uncle Simon, you’re funny. Papa wouldn’t hurt you.”
Simon gently placed her back down on the step. “You go. Your papa and I must talk.”
“All right. But I might see Miss Drake in the park.”
Harry closed his eyes but could still feel Simon’s penetrating stare on him.
“If you do, tell her your papa says good morning,” Simon said with a smirk.
“I will.” Charlotte took Nurse’s hand to start their walk.
Harry opened his eyes to find Simon’s sardonic gaze still focused on him. Now there would be no reprieve until his brother knew the truth.
“Good morning, Your Grace,” Jenkins said as he opened the door for them. “Mr. Kingsley.”
“Good morning, Jenkins. How are you today?” Simon replied in a booming voice purely meant to irritate the old butler.
“Simon,” Harry warned. “The first rule of privilege is never to annoy the butler.”
“I apologize, Jenkins. I am still new to this world.” There was an undercurrent of humor to his voice.
A Deal with a Duke Page 14
