She expected an angry retort from him, even welcomed it and relished the thought of pitting words with him. However, when a thick blanket of silence descended the room, she lifted her head.
Her mouth ran dry as she noted the sensual way he was watching her like a hawk toying with its prey. Unconsciously, she took a step back as he came closer, towering over her.
“Tempest,” he called with tenderness lacing his voice. “I don’t believe you.”
She let out a sharp gasp.
“You’re blushing and so scared of the growing attraction between us, you don’t know what to do.”
She shook her head vigorously until her bonnet almost fell from her head, and tendrils of her hair escaped from some of the pins.
Lifting his hand, he cupped her cheek and lightly caressed it. “You’re going to marry me, Tempest.”
Dear God, if she didn’t get away from Hudson, she was at a loss at what she would do. No man had ever come this close to her and caused the sensations running all through her body by his mere presence.
“I can’t marry you, Hudson,” she managed to let out. “You’ll just have to find someone else to wed.”
He cocked a brow as his eyes became challenging. “Really?”
She nodded, willing the quivering in her body to stop before she made an utter cake of herself.
“I always knew you would be easy on the eyes once you overcame your stubbornness, but I never knew you would blossom into a beautiful flower.”
Tempest couldn’t say a word as her breathing heightened. His hand reached for the strands of her hair that had loosened from their hold.
“Your hair feels like pure silk in my hands. I can’t wait to see the full mass spread across my pillows.”
Oh, God! He had to stop saying such things.
“Your skin feels like the finest alabaster, and I swear I could stare at your face all day and not get bored or tired.”
Tempest gulped. No single sensible thought could be found in her brain at that moment. After years of priding herself as an independent woman, she couldn’t believe she was allowing Hudson’s proximity and words to get to her like this.
Shaking off the uncomfortable feeling, she removed her cheek from his grasp. “I believe those are just words, sir, to get me pliable in your arms to do your bidding.”
Abundant laughter rumbled from Hudson. “Not mere words, Tempest, but the truth. You and I will make a perfect match.”
She clicked her tongue. “You and I will make a terrible match, Hudson, and well you know it. Why, I might just poison your port before the ink dries on our marriage certificate.”
Hudson grinned boyishly, making him more handsome. “I doubt that. You wouldn’t want your beauty and your brains to rot in prison, would you?”
Warmth suffused her face. “Flattery will get you nowhere, mister.”
Still smiling, he said. “What about the truth? You and I used to be the best of friends back in the day. I believe that given time, we can resurrect it, and have a blissful marriage.”
“We have both changed, Hudson, and well you know it. I can never be a man’s property.”
“Oh, is that your fear? That I’ll hang you up on the wall like one of my paintings?”
Tempest couldn’t help giggling at the thought. “Don’t be a peagoose, Hudson. You know what I meant. I will not be kept!”
Regarding her with an intensity that unnerved her, Hudson’s smile widened.
“I think you’re just filled with hogwash.”
“How dare you!”
“You’re scared of surrendering to this growing attraction between us. It frightens you in no small measure to give in to it.”
Afraid that he was telling the blatant truth, she tried to get past him. “I think I’ve heard enough of this conversation. Goodnight Mr Danvers.”
Hudson released a chuckle as his lean hand snaked out to stop her. “Oh, it’s Mr Danvers now, is it?”
She sent him daggers with her eyes as he prevented her escape.
“Tempest,” he called huskily, his eyes dimming with desire.
Rooted to the spot and mesmerised by the blueness of his eyes, she couldn’t help lifting her face up to his.
He thrust her into his embrace, and then his hand moved from her arm to cup her face as his other arm encircled her.
Incapable of stopping the sensations racing all over her body, Tempest moistened her lips and parted them in anticipation of the kiss she so craved.
His head slowly descended.
Chapter 11
Tempest and Hudson jerked apart when the door opened.
One of the guards stood there beside Anthony. “Mistress, please come quickly. A brawl is about to take place!”
Stepping out of Hudson’s arms and hiding her flushed face, Tempest nodded. She took a moment to pull herself together, avoiding Hudson’s intense gaze.
What the devil had she been thinking? That was it. She hadn’t been thinking at all. She had allowed the rake to offer a false sense of wantonness. All the man desired was taking liberties with her. Mayhaps she was just another conquest to him. Or he was only trying to seek revenge for her rejection years ago.
Tempest told herself that it would be wise of her to stay away from him. He was dangerous to her well-being. Look at how he made her putty in his arms in a matter of seconds.
And oh, if they had kissed, she was sure it would have been explosive since he was a master in the art. Only God knew how far they would have gone before she realised her folly.
“Tempest.”
The sound of his voice so close to her got her jerking from his course.
“Good evening, Mr Danvers,” she coldly told him. Lifting her skirt, she hurried out of the room.
The men already had their voices raised by the time she got to the main parlour. A drunken English Lord and a drunken French Viscount were making spectacles of themselves.
Tempest sighed. She didn’t need this disruption in her establishment. Not now when she didn’t have her wits entirely with her.
The other patrons had abandoned their games and surrounded the table of the feuding men. Some were trying to calm the feuding men, while others, who appeared to be foxed too, were just looking on. One man with a glass of port in his hand was cheering them on.
Tempest let out a slow breath. She would have to handle the situation with tact and grace, or it would spiral out of control within minutes.
Modulating her voice so she wouldn’t be recognised, she strode forward to the men.
“Gentlemen, what seems to be the problem?” she questioned in a sultry voice.
The men paid her no heed. It was as if she hadn’t even spoken. They continued to glare at each other as if they would like to rip each other apart that minute.
Oh, dear, this was a dicey situation, more delicate than she had initially thought. If she wasn’t careful, the men would tear the whole place apart in the warfare. Salisbury would then be known as a place where a brawl would break out any minute, just like those local bars.
She couldn’t allow that. Salisbury had a reputation to maintain. In all her aunt’s years of overseeing the affairs of the business, not one negative word had been said about the place. It wouldn’t start with her holding the helm of affairs.
Raising her voice, she sternly said, “Gentlemen!”
A lusty sigh of relief expelled from her lips when they turned to fix drunken eyes on her.
Thank goodness.
“Now, what seems to be the problem?”
Several of the spectators focused their gazes on her. Some of them were only just registering her presence. The silence stretched taut in the room as they eagerly waited for the result of her intervention.
Tempest recognised that more than half of the people in the room were already foxed. Perhaps she should call for their supply of port and cigars to be cut off to bring their senses back to normal.
That might make things worse. Best to leave things as they were. She
would see to it that the men causing the disruption in the place were escorted out of the premises. She couldn’t have them influencing the other drunken lot.
“Ma Cherie, this despicable man cheated,” the viscount announced sullenly, causing murmurs all around.
“You are the vile cad, you French fool!” the English Lord retorted hotly. “I had a winning hand!”
“So did I, monsieur!”
“You did not! I’ll wager you don’t have a dime to your cursed title!” the Englishman bellowed.
“Enough!” snapped Tempest as she felt her temples throbbing from a headache that was beginning to come on.
The portly lord turned to fix dark eyes on her. “Who are you to tell me what to do?”
Incensed now by his high-handedness, Tempest snapped, “The owner of this establishment.”
There were gasps all around, causing Tempest to regret her hasty choice of words. She didn’t want anyone knowing she owned the place, but the man had pushed her into saying so. Oh, this temper of hers. Papa did say it would get her into trouble someday.
The Frenchman laughed. “Now you get to be kicked out on your fat rear.”
Tempest lifted a finger and stabbed it in the air at the jeering man. “Not another word from you.”
“Qui, mademoiselle. You know I speak the truth. Toss him out on his fat ass. He’s a cheat, not worthy of this noble establishment.”
Tempest had always loved the French accent, but now she wished she could throttle the man so he would never speak again.
The lord glowered furiously at the viscount. A hum of discussion reverberated through the room as the men looked set to engage in a fistfight.
“Gentlemen, I think we should calm our frayed nerves. I believe the misunderstanding can be sorted out amicably,” she implored sweetly, afraid that she might have a duel on her hands soon.
“Name your seconds, you French scum!” the English Lord glared murderously at the tall, thin man.
“Dear God!” Tempest hissed. The situation had gone from bad to worse. She whirled in the lord’s direction. “Milord, please reconsider.
One of them would be sure to kill the other, and then it would go around that the feud had begun in her gaming parlour. Besides, she didn’t want any of them dead.
“With pleasure,” the viscount returned with glee, stroking his moustache.
***
Hudson had had enough of the show. He had been watching from the sidelines since he left the private room, wondering how Tempest would handle the situation. He had taken a moment to bring his desire under control after she swept out of the room in a whirl of silk like a regal queen.
But now, she didn’t look as majestic as she was finding it difficult handling the orotund men. It was evident that the men had poured a healthy dose of spirits down their throats, hence their ill-mannered behaviour.
He had thought Tempest was handling the situation quite well, but when she became angry, which was typical of her, she lost the men. Her announcement was received by him with mixed feelings. At first, he had been surprised that what he had been suspecting was indeed true. Then it turned to pride for her that she was a woman to reckon with. But then came the realisation that she had truly masterminded the breaking up of his engagement with her cousin.
Rage had flowed through him, so much so that he almost walked up to her to accuse her before everyone present. He, however, controlled himself. There would be more than enough time to do that later.
It would serve her right if the discourteous men chose to fight and destroy the place. It still would not be enough payment for her meddling in his affairs.
As the men’s raised voices grew higher, and they looked set to fight and spill each other’s blood, he decided to intervene. He called himself every name in the book for trying to help the woman who had caused him pain not only recently but years ago too, as he strolled forward.
“Gentlemen, I believe this is neither the time nor the place to show your various unique strengths,” Hudson spoke smoothly into the highly charged moment.
The English Lord blinked as if he was trying to discern who dared to intrude in his business.
“Stay out of this, Danvers,” he hissed when his eyes registered who the handsome man was.
Bowing gracefully, Danvers said, “Lord Hammond.” Then he turned to the viscount. “Lord Dumont,” and bowed as well.
“Now here is a man who knows how to act around his betters,” sneered Lord Hammond.
“You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” retorted the viscount which created tension between them again.
Hudson sighed inwardly. These men were indeed too foxed to reason with their senses intact. He had to find a way to diffuse the tension between them without damaging property or spilling blood.
“Lord Hammond, I called on you the other day, but your butler told me you weren’t home. I wanted to speak to you about some business.”
The man scratched his robust stomach. “Danvers, surely you know this isn’t the time to discuss business. I’ve got to send this buffoon to his makers.”
“It’s quite urgent,” Hudson sounded rueful. “I leave for Strombridge at first light, and I dare say you don’t rise with the roosters.”
“Indeed not. Why should I? I do not open my eyes before noon. After spending all night here, I don’t see any reason for waking up early. I mean, I’m not a servant, am I?” the man guffawed at his own joke.
Hudson forced a laugh out. “Indeed, you are not. Say, could we please take a seat. I assure you it would only take a few minutes.”
The man hesitated, eyeing the viscount who was already looking bored.
He shrugged. “I suppose a few minutes wouldn’t hurt. I always welcome anything that would bring more money to my coffers. And then I’ll be back to deal with this scoundrel.”
“And I’ll be waiting for you, you garbage!” the viscount returned, gritting his teeth.
“Oh, Lord Dumont, I’d also like to have a word with you. You see, I was in Paris a fortnight ago. I have an interest in acquiring property there.”
The viscount gave him a drunken smile. “Then you have come to the right man. Finish with this lout and come to me. I’ll tell you where to find the best properties in Paris, oui?.”
“Keep the brandy coming,” Hudson told the stunned Tempest. She just stood there, gawking at the men with widened eyes.
***
As Tempest watched the spectators reluctantly part for Hudson and the lord’s departure, Tempest couldn’t help admiring the chivalrous way Hudson had handled the situation.
Shaking off the numb state that had befallen her viewing Hudson and Lord Hammond at a table, discussing intently, she ordered for a huge decanter of brandy be sent to the table.
Acknowledging that she had to keep the viscount busy before he got any ideas of going to disrupt the conversation between Hudson and Lord Hammond, she invited him for a game at one of the private gaming rooms.
The Irresistible Lady Behind the Mask: A Historical Regency Romance Book Page 10
