The Seduction of Mr. Yarnsby

by McQueen, Hildie

  “No,” Vivian exclaimed. “I don’t believe you.”

  “I will return it to its proper place when we return, and mother will never suspect it’s been borrowed.”

  It was hard to tell if Penelope was lying. The imp had mastered the best blank look ever, and no matter how hard one challenged her sister, Penelope would not waver.

  “Where exactly was it hidden?”

  Instead of a reply, Penelope opened to a page and pressed a finger to a paragraph. “Read this.”

  The words swayed as she did her best to focus and read out loud. “The hardening of a man’s sex is quite obvious. A noticeable bulge will form between his legs. One must never...”

  “Good afternoon, ladies.”

  The deep voice made both she and Penelope yelp.

  Quick as a lightning, her sister plucked the book from Vivian’s hands and pushed it under a pillow.

  From where Mr. Yarnsby was, he should not have been able to see what Penelope did after taking the book.

  “Mr. Yarnsby, you startled us,” Penelope said with a giggle. “We were discussing the perils of finding oneself out in the wilderness alone with a wild beast.”

  Vivian coughed to keep from laughing, and a most unladylike snort erupting.

  His hooded eyes moved from Penelope to Vivian. “I apologize. Did not give thought to the fact that you are not used to life here. As you may have noticed, we have no butler and let ourselves in and out without announcement.”

  Vivian gave him a droll look. “We are quite aware now.”

  Instead of continuing on to wherever William was, he hesitated. “Your sister is not at home?”

  “Clara has gone to spend the day with Duchess Torrington,” Penelope informed him. “We will be going there tonight for supper.”

  He nodded. “I look forward to seeing you, then.” Despite being annoyed at his inopportune appearance, Vivian could not help but notice how his attire made him look ravishing. He wore a dark green overcoat over a tan linen shirt and brown wool pants. On his feet were calf high boots, which told he’d ridden his horse there.

  “William is in his study,” Vivian said. “Although you probably already know.”

  “He and I meet daily to discuss our business dealings.”

  Penelope lifted a brow. “How far is your home from here?”

  “Not far, just a couple of hours’ drive. The Duke of Torrington’s home is almost directly centered between my home and this one. If you recall, it is about an hour’s ride to theirs.”

  “I would love to see it,” her sister exclaimed with a smile. “Will you invite us, Mr. Yarnsby?”

  The lack of propriety would have shocked most, but Penelope had always been too outspoken and daring. Much to their parents’ exasperation. Vivian studied Mr. Yarnsby, waiting for a reply. He looked to her in turn, as if expecting she’d chastise Penelope. Instead, Vivian attempted a bored expression.

  “Er... Of course. Perhaps tomorrow afternoon?”

  “Delightful.” Penelope clapped her hands. “As much as I enjoy the reprieve from London, I do miss having adventures.”

  “It seems you and your sisters quite enjoy these adventures. I am curious to see what you have planned during your time here.” He started to turn but hesitated with a pensive expression. “I do believe I met Lady Greene once.”

  They both stared with mouths open at his retreating form.

  “He overheard us,” Penelope hissed. “Do you think he will inform William?”

  Her mouth still open, Vivian stared wide-eyed to where Penelope had hidden the book. “You always get me into these situations. Honestly, Penelope, you must get rid of it.”

  “I can’t very well destroy it or burn it. It belongs to Mother.”

  Covering her face, Vivian peered at the fire through her fingers. “How am I to face him at supper tonight? I was reading the most shocking words.”

  “Crumpets,” Penelope exclaimed.

  Vivian gaped at her sister. “What now?”

  “I forgot to look to see if he was aroused.”

  “Penelope!” Vivian exclaimed. “Do not say another word.”

  * * *

  Too soon, they were dressed and waiting to board the carriage that would take them to the Torringtons’ estate. The only other time Vivian had been there was for Clara and William’s thrown-together wedding.

  Vivian had come to William’s country estate to spy on him and had ended up injured and unable to leave. Needless to say, their parents had insisted they marry out of fear of the episode reaching gossips’ ears in London.

  “I am excited to see the house again. It is so grand,” Penelope exclaimed, not seeming at all bothered by what had happened earlier.

  Vivian looked around. Thankfully, Alexander was nowhere to be seen. He must have ridden ahead.

  Escorted by her sister’s handsome husband, she and Penelope boarded the carriage and rode the short distance to the Torrington home. To call the grand estate a house would be a great understatement. It boasted beautiful architecture, large columns, and a line of perfectly pruned trees across the front sides.

  The house reminded Vivian of other grand homes in London where the most elite people lived.

  Once inside, they were immediately greeted by an exuberant Clara, who didn’t wait for them to remove their cloaks, pulling them into a grand front room that boasted a huge fireplace and equally imposing windows. There were several gathering areas, and the one they hurried to was next to the fireplace.

  “Isn’t this grand?” Clara exclaimed, pointing to a greenery arrangement on a side table. “I did it.”

  Vivian was wordless. Her sister had never tried to do such a thing at home. Her arrangements had always been horrible and either Vivian or their mother had to fix them. This one, however, was passable. It was only a bit lopsided.

  “You did this?” Penelope asked with a bright smile. “I am so proud.”

  “Me as well,” Clara said, then looked past them. “I overheard the duke telling Duchess Torrington that they are inviting another family to dinner.”

  “Who?” both Vivian and Penelope asked at the same time.

  “A family by the name of Foster. They have a son who they hope takes a liking to one of you.”

  Before they could utter another word, Duchess Torrington entered. “You haven’t removed your cloaks.” She looked at Clara. “I assume you were excited to show them your beautiful arrangement.”

  “I was,” Clara replied with a bright smile. It made Vivian’s heart light that her sister had married so well. Not only were the Torringtons an established family, but her husband adored her, and so did his parents.

  Vivian untied the bow at her throat. “I cannot believe she did it. Clara never dared to try at home.”

  “She did it all by herself. I only offered a suggestion...or two,” Duchess Torrington said with a wink.

  Moments later, they were joined by Duke Torrington, William, and the ever-present Mr. Yarnsby. This night he was dressed in a more formal manner in hues of green, which made her wonder if it was his favorite color.

  She’d chosen an ash-green gown. With her red hair, it was impossible to find many colors that were flattering. Other than shades of green, blue, and ivory, the colors most ladies preferred, such as lavenders and buttery yellows, made her pale skin appear sallow and her red hair look even brighter.

  “You are lovely tonight, Miss Humphries,” Mr. Yarnsby said by way of greeting. Vivian had not been aware of holding her hand out, but she must have, as it was firmly in his now. Everyone was going to the dining room, and she wondered why they did rather than wait for the others to arrive.

  “Where are they going?”

  “To look at your sister’s other flower arrangement.”

  Vivian’s feet refused to move, and so did her hand, for that matter. “Oh.” Her lack of vocabulary was a clear sign she was about to do something stupid or faint.

  “Should we join them?” His darkened eyes met hers. Hi
s nostrils flared just a bit and to top it off, his lips parted. As much as she wanted to peer down to see if there was a bulge, thankfully they were too close.

  “Oh...you’re...”

  “Are you unwell?” Somehow, he managed to move closer. She could see the golden specks in his eyes. “Vivian?”

  It was only an inch, maybe less. At least, that was what she’d tell herself later. Too close not to, and besides, it was his fault for parting his lips. Whatever the reason, she closed the minute space between them and pressed her lips to his.

  Mr. Yarnsby’s response was immediate, urgent, and shocking.

  One of his arms, perhaps his left, encircled her waist. His other hand cupped the side of her face. And then, his mouth did the most delightful things Vivian had ever experienced. He tilted his head one way and then the other as he ravished her lips. He broke the kiss for a moment, just long enough for her to gasp for air, before trailing his lips from the corner of her mouth to her ear.

  “You should not toy with me, Miss Humphries.”

  The words instantly brought her out of her stupor, and she shoved him back. “I didn’t mean to.”

  His right eyebrow lifted in question. What it was Vivian didn’t dare speculate. Turning on her heel, she raced to catch up with the others. What had she done? Now the exasperating man had the upper hand.

  There was no doubt in her mind that whatever he’d done, she had to experience again.

  Heart pounding, she continued forward blindly until she ran into William’s hard chest. “Ah, there you are. I was coming to ensure you were not lost. This house is quite large.”

  Vivian kept her gaze away from him. “I must admit to being delayed by all the beautiful things. I simply must return to spend time here with your mother.”

  “She will be delighted.” When she looked at him, William was giving Mr. Yarnsby a questioning look. Not wishing to be near, she hurried toward the sound of voices.

  “I wish to live here forever,” Penelope announced as they prepared for bed. “I love the Torringtons, Clara and William’s house, and the quiet.”

  Vivian laughed. “I doubt you would survive longer than a season. We’ve only been here three days. I am sure that once the routine rarely changes, you will claim boredom.”

  “Not as long as I have interesting reading material.” Her sister lifted “the seduction book,” as she called it.

  “Put it back in your trunk and leave it there. You cannot be reading such things. It is not appropriate.”

  The bed dipped when Penelope plopped down on it. “It is reprehensible that women enter into a marriage ill prepared for relations and fully understanding men.”

  “It isn’t all about seduction,” Vivian replied, lying back on her pillow. “Personally, I think friendship is much more important.”

  “True, which is why I will marry Tommy. He is my dearest friend.”

  The constant argument of Penelope’s that she’d marry Tommy Rutherford always made Vivian giggle. “You are not marrying Tommy. You will fall madly in love with someone else and forget Tommy at meeting the man who will cause your insides to tingle.”

  “Is that what happened tonight?” Penelope asked, pinning Vivian with a look. “You were flushed when you came into the dining room, and Mr. Yarnsby looked a bit...flustered.”

  “No.” Vivian was not prepared to discuss the kiss. Not until she had an opportunity to analyze what exactly had transpired and why.

  As the house quieted, Vivian could not sleep. Her mind raced over and over the kiss. Why had she done it? Curiosity? Or perhaps the darned seduction book. If not for reading about the signs a man was aroused, it never would have happened.

  In truth, Vivian was aware that men were sensual creatures, driven by their basic needs. In a discussion she’d attended on different animal species, the lecturer had explained that most male mammals could not control themselves around a female. Humans were mammals and caught in scandalous situations because of basic needs more often than not.

  No, she could not blame the kiss on Mr. Yarnsby; she’d been the one to initiate it. Although he’d responded quite ardently. Vivian’s pulse quickened, and she took shallow breaths, hoping not to wake Penelope.

  It was dreadful that she was in the dark hyperventilating over a kiss.

  Most troublesome.

  When her fingers pressed against her lips, Vivian’s eyes closed of their own volition. He’d held her so tightly, their bodies touching, lips crushing. The way he’d tasted and smelled was just as she’d imagined. Admitting that she’d considered what it would be like to kiss him was not telling much, in her opinion. It was common for a woman to think of a man in such a manner.

  The rest of the evening, she’d managed to avoid being alone with him and had been glued to either Penelope or Clara’s side.

  When the other family had visited, she’d been pleasantly surprised by the couple’s son, who’d entertained them with stories of his travels. He was pleasant to look upon and of good stature.

  Although, she had to admit to constantly looking to Mr. Yarnsby to gather his reactions. He’d seemed to like the man, and they’d obviously already met before.

  Albert, or was it Gilbert? Yes, Gilbert Foster. No, perhaps Richard. Goodness, how could she not remember his name?

  “Anthony Foster.” Came Penelope’s sleepy voice. “Do you wish to speak to me or keep talking to your invisible friends? It is most distracting.”

  “I’m sorry. I can’t sleep.”

  “You don’t say,” Penelope replied in a dry tone. “Are you still reeling from whatever happened between you and Mr. Yarnsby?”

  Unable to keep from it, she let out a breath. “I kissed him.”

  “You kissed?” Penelope exclaimed, sitting up and immediately slipping from her bed and over to Vivian’s. “Tell me everything.”

  * * *

  Breakfast, like most meals at the country estate, was served on platters, which were set in the center of the table.

  William and Clara sat on one side, he on the end and she to his right. Clara wore a thick robe, which swallowed her almost entirely. Only her face and hands were fully visible.

  “The room is much too cold in the mornings,” she explained.

  Vivian had to agree. As nice as the large windows and wonderful view, they made the dining room extra frigid.

  “Which is why I’m wearing a thick shawl that I purchased during our shopping trip with Mr. Yarnsby,” Penelope explained. “I rather like this room. Eating while enjoying the view is pleasurable.”

  Vivian nodded. “I agree. It is a beautiful home. Every room is so lovely.”

  Her sister beamed. “I love it here. I finally understand why you would rather spend your time here than in London,” she told William, who smiled at her.

  The dogs, who’d been sleeping by the hearth, jumped up and rushed to the door.

  “Ah, Alex is here,” William said. “He will be staying here until after Twelfth Night.”

  “Why?” Vivian couldn’t keep from asking. “I thought he had his own estate.”

  “He does,” Clara replied. “But he’s given the entire staff time off to visit with their families for the holidays and is therefore home alone. He normally lives here through the holidays but went there for a few days to oversee some repairs.”

  “Is it a large home?” Vivian asked. “I know his late father was quite wealthy.”

  William nodded. “It is a beautiful home. But massive.”

  “If I were him, I’d sell it and purchase a smaller home,” Penelope remarked. “I wouldn’t wish to live alone in a huge building.” She shuddered. “I’d be sad.”

  “Why doesn’t he stay at your parents’?” Vivian asked, her eyes flashing from William to the doorway.

  William and Clara exchanged looks, and it was her sister who replied. “Alex and William work together. It makes more sense for him to remain here.”

  “Of course,” Vivian replied, feeling silly for questioning them.


  Just then, a coachman entered with a trunk and went directly past the doorway to where Vivian assumed Mr. Yarnsby’s accommodations were.

  From their tour of Clara and William’s home, there were six bed chambers. She and Clara had decided to share one out of practicality.

  “Good morning.” Alexander Yarnsby entered the room. “Ladies. William.” The men exchanged nods, and Clara beamed up at him.

  “I am so glad you are here, Alexander. We were just discussing your home and sharing thoughts on living in a large estate such as yours.”

  He settled into the chair next to Penelope, which positioned him directly across from Vivian. His gaze moved to hers and lingered for a beat. “Yes. Well, one of the downfalls is the costs of repairs.”

  “What exactly needs repair, Mr. Yarnsby?” Vivian asked with what she hoped was a flat look.

  The cook’s helper hurried in with a fresh pot of hot water. She smiled at Mr. Yarnsby and poured the water into his cup. “Thank you, Rose,” he said to the older woman who looked on the brink of pinching his cheek.

  “I’ll bring you some warm scones, dear.”

  Vivian was reminded that he and William had grown up together.

  “She always did favor you,” William teased. “I got cold scones.”

  Mr. Yarnsby took a sip of his tea and met Vivian’s gaze. “To answer your question, there are always things that need repairing. This time it is the ceiling. The exterior roof was fixed during the spring. There was a huge leak, which left staining. It has to be redone now.”

  “And the floors,” William added, waving his hand in a circular motion. “And don’t forget the broken windows on the second floor.”

  Both men chuckled. “That, my friend, was your doing,” Mr. Yarnsby replied.

  The men explained how they’d been shooting ducks and William had become overzealous and ended up shooting out several windows on the back of Mr. Yarnsby’s home.

  “What are your plans today?” Penelope asked Clara.

  “I wish to decorate cards. I brought paper, notions, and such from London. Join me?”

  Vivian gave her sisters a pointed look. “I thought we planned to start our scrapbooks.”