by Gill, Tamara
The tips of her ears burned, and she feigned ignorance. “I do not know what you’re talking about, my lord.” His deep, evocative chuckle did odd things to her stomach, pulsed heat to her core. The man was a walking scandal, and he knew it.
“Come now. Your secret is safe with me. I was, however, disappointed you did not come to my office to discuss the matter. To enlighten me.”
She gasped, meeting his eyes. Was he flirting with her? Or was she reading into his words more than she ought because she wanted him to flirt with her? Wanting him to touch her as the duke touched Ava. For so many years, she’d been the perfect companion, never stepping out of line or saying the wrong thing. Scandalous of her, but she was tired of always being proper. She wanted to live, explore, love, find a husband who joined her on life’s journey. Have children and see the world.
“I can always revisit you, my lord.” She grinned at him, and his eyes widened. A chuckle escaped her at his shock, and she was glad she was able to turn the tables against him. It was highly unlikely that he was ever on the receiving end of such banter, not from a woman of her status, at least. His dashing Cyprians perhaps like to tease, but virginal women who were once companions did not.
He reached out and pulled her to a stop before the door. Willow watched as the others prepared to sit, before turning a raised brow at his lordship. “Is something the matter, my lord?” she asked, her tone sweet and innocent, even though she knew her retort discombobulated him.
“You’re never to return to Hell’s Gate, Miss Perry. Ever. It’s not a place for a lady of your constitution, and it’s not safe for you to be in that part of town.”
She patted his arm condescendingly. “Now, now, my lord. Don’t make us be at odds with each other. Not when I was starting to like you a little. You have kept my presence at your club a secret from your friends, after all. Do not ruin it by telling me what I can and cannot do.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw as his dark, consuming gaze stared down at her. If he were trying to scare her into submission, he would fail. There was nothing more she liked than a challenge, and although she’d never had one of the male variety before, there was always a first.
His gaze dipped to her lips, and without thought, she dampened them with her tongue. His nose flared, his jaw clenched, and fire simmered in her blood. He was attracted to her. No matter what he may say to the contrary, his reactions to her were telling.
Interesting…
“Should I tell our friends you were at Hell’s Gate?” His deep voice held a warning any sane woman would heed. She was not one of them.
“A better question is, will you tell them? I can always counteract your words by telling the duke and viscount that you invited me into your office instead of bundling me into a carriage. One does wonder why you did that.” She grinned, leaning close. “I hope you weren’t thinking of dallying with me, that would never do.”
Although after the last few nights that were consumed with images of him above her, touching and kissing her, a dalliance may be preferable.
“If I wanted to trifle with you, what makes you think I need an office, Miss Perry?” He pushed past her and went to seat himself at the dining room table.
She stared after him, the thought of such a thing making her skin shiver. Was it even possible? Were couples doing such a thing in public, and she’d never noticed? Extraordinary.
Willow sat herself to the side of Whitstone. She laid the linen napkin over her lap, taking in the place settings, and seeing who was present. The duke and duchess sat at the heads of the table, Lord Ryley, directly across from her. He caught her eye as he sipped his wine, and she read the challenge in his deep-brown orbs that looked almost black under the candlelight. Sin camouflaged as a gentleman in a superfine coat.
“I understand Ava is taking you riding this afternoon. We’ve brought down some hacks for everyone to use, so you’ll be quite safe.”
She turned, smiling at the duke whom she loved as much as a brother, if she’d had one. “Thank you. Ava’s been kind enough recently to help me in purchasing a horse of my own. I’ve always loved riding, but as you know, my aunt didn’t like me too far away from her at any one moment.”
“I remember.”
The first course of soup was served, and the delicious scent of vegetables wafted up and made her stomach clench, reminding her that she’d not eaten this morning. They ate in relative silence for a time, the small hum of conversation around the table sporadic, the subject matter what the guests intended to do over the next week at the house party.
“This is a wonderful idea having a home so close to London. And one that has acreage. I should imagine you’ll have Ava with you more often now, Your Grace.”
He smiled across at his wife, and she smiled back. A pang of longing shot through Willow. She wanted a love like that. All-consuming and grand. One of those loves that people like Lord Byron wrote poems about.
As if drawn, her gaze slid to Lord Ryley seated beside Hallie, Countess Duncannon. He was undoubtedly the type of man that love sonnets were composed for, all those long, dark eyelashes that were prettier than her own, his skin a golden hue that made hers look washed out and pasty. He was everything a woman dreamed about, trouble that would be hard to rid oneself of.
He was certainly not marriageable material. Too many scandals, too many lovers to contend with, and men like Lord Ryley would never be content to lay with one woman for the rest of his life. No. He would like his cake and to eat it as well.
Ava caught his attention, and he turned to her friend, his face changing to one of interest and pleasure at having Hallie by his side. How changeable men could be when they needed to be.
“Are you settling into your new home and way of life, Willow? If you ever need any financial advice you know you can come to Duncannon or me. Our doors are always open.”
“Thank you, that is very kind. I do wish to look at investments in the next few months. The law firm which handles my interests believes it may be a way to grow my income. I haven’t had time to look into it as yet. After the Season perhaps I will.”
“Lord Ryley has multiple investments, both commercial and financial. You should seek him out while you’re both here in Hampton, see what he suggests. I know he would never lead you astray.”
To do such a thing would mean she would have to solicit his help. Not an entirely awful idea, which in itself was problematic. As much as she may long for his hands on her, for his kisses and whatever else he could show her, such a path would only lead to ruin and disappointment. To give herself to such a man would mean risking her heart, and she had that saved up for a gentleman who would be willing to give his in return. Lord Ryley was not one of them.
“Would you ask him for me, Your Grace? We’re not the best of friends I’m afraid, and I would find it uncomfortable asking his lordship for financial advice.”
The duke frowned, turning to her. “Has he offended you in any way?”
His grace glared at Lord Ryley, and she touched his arm, bringing his attention back to her. “No. No, Your Grace. Nothing like that, but I fear we’re just destined never to be friends, and that is all very well.” She glanced at Lord Ryley, heat pooling in her belly at his smile toward Hallie when she spoke. “I have the impression that he disapproves of me for some reason. As if I’ve done something that has offended him.”
“You must be mistaken, Willow, but I shall talk to him on your behalf and ensure all is well and that he is compliant in helping you in your investments. I have full faith that he will take care of you and not lead you astray.”
She nodded, smiling at the duke, not wanting him to know that the thought of Lord Ryley leading her amiss left her breathless and warm. “Thank you, Your Grace. You two are too kind to me.”
“No, we’re not. We’re friends, and that’s what friends do.”
The remainder of lunch was pleasant, and talk of her impending ride let her forget her troubles with the brooding marquess across from her.
At least out on the estate with Ava, she would not have to deal with him this afternoon. One consolation she supposed even though the idea of not sparring with him left her more dejected than discharged.
Chapter 6
He was in hell. Literally. He rode behind the duchess, and Miss Perry, who in a trot rose and fell on her seat, her delectable rump all too visible to him in his current position. She wore a deep-navy riding gown, but instead of wearing a skirt and riding astride, she had donned a pair of matching navy breeches and was riding astride like the duchess.
Abe inwardly groaned. There was something wrong with him to be mooning over the chit whom he wanted to bring down, to topple from her lofty level that her aunt had placed her upon. Not fair, he knew, to make a relative pay for the sins of someone else, but it was his only recourse. The Vance family would fall. Their treatment of his mother had ensured she fell from grace. Miss Perry was part of the rotting London society he steered clear of. She was the only living blood relative of Viscountess Vance, and therefore she would fall.
That did not mean that he could not play with the chit for a little while before he brought her low. He had been going to stay well away from her, keep her at a distance. Much easier not to know your prey, but there was something about Miss Perry that drew him in—aggravated and enticed.
The duchess and Miss Perry stopped under the shade of a tree to rest, and he joined them. His attention snapped to her long legs. They would fit about his waist perfectly.
He shut his eyes, dismissing the visual of them tangled in bed, sheets askew, her hair mussed from his attentions, her cheeks pinkened from release. Her mouth open on a gasp before he covered it with his.
God damn it.
He should go into the village tonight and find some release for his aching balls. He could not continue thinking of Miss Perry in such a way. In any way. She was his nemesis. The woman he would destroy. She was not the woman that stirred his loins. He wouldn’t allow it.
Liar, a voice whispered in his ear.
“I’m going to go for a gallop. Did you want to join me?” Ava asked, glancing over the land.
“Not today, Ava. I’m not quite ready for that as yet,” Miss Perry said.
“I will keep Miss Perry company, Your Grace. Feel free to go for your ride.”
The duchess nodded to him, and then turned her mount, pushing it into a blistering pace. He adjusted his seat, his cock aching with his imaginings of them alone. A quiet settled between them, only the sound of birds in the trees and the slight rustling of wind through the grasses impinging on their solitude.
Abe studied her profile as she glanced in the direction the duchess had ridden, in no way inclined to speak to him it would seem. Her ignoring of him irked and he cleared his throat.
“You ride well, better than I thought you would.”
“I’ve always liked to ride, but don’t get enough time to do so. I’ll be changing that now that I’m on my own.”
He narrowed his eyes, disliking the idea of her being by herself. Her house on Hanover Square was one of the largest in London, and she was a woman after all. Anyone could take advantage of her.
Abe ran a hand through his hair, knowing he was hell-bent on being that person who took advantage of her. The one to bring her down to the level the Vances should be. He couldn’t start to let his emotions get involved in his plan. Yes, Miss Perry was spirited, intelligent, and beautiful, but she was also a Vance. Hailed from a bloodline that was as vicious as a snake.
“I did not expect to see you here at the duke and duchess’s estate. I wouldn’t think that such an outing would be wild enough for you, my lord.”
He clamped his jaw against a cutting retort that his life was so excessive, that he could not enjoy the slower parts of it. Such as they were now, out on a horse in the middle of the countryside. “I do not always live in London. I do have two country estates that I attend several times a year. I think you must believe me to be very idle indeed.”
She shrugged, and the action brought his attention to her bodice. The tight, navy-blue spencer that sat over her riding attire, accentuating her breasts. He swallowed, his gaze traveling over her person. After the other evening, when he’d seen her dressed as a man, he’d thought that perhaps he’d been mistaken as to the size of her breasts, but he was not. They were full and lush and rose with every breath. A lovely handful. A wicked mouthful.
“I will not lie and say I have wondered how you fill your day, but I could not imagine the answer and so gave up on the notion.”
He chuckled and stilled at the realization that he’d not laughed in a very long time. And yet, here he was, sitting under an Oak tree with the woman he was determined to ruin, and she’d made him laugh.
She glanced at him, her eyes widening. The deep blue of her gaze watching him with something akin to shock.
“I not only run my gambling club, but I also sit in on parliament, and I have numerous investments that I manage. Speaking of which, the duke has asked me to assist you. He mentioned you may be interested in investing in such schemes.
“Schemes? I do hope any investments that I partake in are more than schemes, my lord.”
Again, his lips twitched. This woman would be a worthy opponent and would keep him on his toes. Her downfall would be all the sweeter for it.
“They are, I assure you, Miss Perry.” He adjusted his seat, curious about her past. “You were your aunt’s companion. How long did you care for her?”
She sighed, glancing up at the clouds. “Eight years or so. I’ve been her companion since returning from school in France. As much as I loved my aunt, and I’ll be forever grateful for her kindness toward me, I cannot help but be thankful that I did not live my entire life under servitude. It is not easy being at the beck and call to others all the time. My situation was better than most, being a relative, but it was not easy.”
“I should imagine not.” Not that he could really imagine at all. He’d always had servants, people doing his bidding. The idea that she was one of those people who had served men and women like him left him cold.
“Because of my past employment, I’ve decided to allow my staff to have rostered holidays throughout the year. Everyone deserves a little time away, to restore and remember that there is more to life than just work.”
Abe frowned over his horse’s ears, unsure he’d ever heard something so absurd or brilliant in his life. There wasn’t a day that he did not work, did not overlook, and check in on all the little particulars that made up his life. He did not have time off, so why should his staff?
Miss Perry’s take on the subject was interesting and worth thinking over. To drop all commitments, to leave and go elsewhere, a place to do nothing but relax both terrified and tempted him in equal parts.
“You saw yourself as being in service? You were a viscountess’s niece, I do not think you were ever at risk of making your fingers bleed from too much embroidery.”
“Have you ever sat all day and embroidered, my lord?”
He met her eyes, shaking his head. “I have not,” he admitted.
“Then until you have, I suggest you keep your opinions to yourself.”
Abe shut his mouth with a snap. Unsure how to respond to the set down.
For a moment, they sat atop their horses, the sight of the duchess on a faraway hill the only movement about them. “I cannot make you out, my lord,” she continued. “You profess to work all the time. That you are busy and important.”
He clenched his jaw at the sarcasm he heard in her tone, condemned to hear her out at least before he administered one of his own set downs.
“And yet you treat me as if when I lived with my aunt, I did nothing at all. She was a very private woman, disliked anyone knowing her business, and so it was left to me to take care of her all the time. Bathing, dressing, relieving of herself in the middle of the night all fell on me. For years, not months. I attended to her at balls and parties. I ensured she always had her favorite food for supper.
I went on endless calls to her friends, day in, day out. Do not speak to me as if I do not know a day’s work in my life. I know it well. Better than you, I should imagine. When last did you empty the piss pot from under your bed?”
He stared at her aghast. She emptied the chamber pot. Good god, her aunt was as bad as he’d always known her to be. Abe took in the defiant rise of Miss Perry’s chin, and a little of his distaste toward her shifted. Maybe she was also a victim of her aunt. Not in the way that his mother endured, but in a demoralizing way. The way one eventually accepted their fate and lost their voice to say otherwise.
“I apologize if I came across as condescending. I see that I was wrong.”
She shook her head, adjusting her seat. “My aunt ensured I was educated, and I thank her every day she sent me to France to learn, or I may have never known Ava, Hallie, Evie, and Molly, but I can also thank her for showing me that the staff that rush about for us are people too. They have lives just like you and I. They too dream for a better future. I see that now, and I will never go back to the way it was during my aunt’s life. My servants are happier, always going about their work with a spring in their step. I did that because I understood their plight.”
“You must be commended for your forward-thinking.” Abe frowned at his own words. What was he saying? Complimenting her for being radical. Even so, the idea had merit and was worth considering implementing into his own homes. If it meant that his staff was more congenial, went about their chores in a more timely and productive manner, he would test the idea forthwith.
She threw him a small smile, and his chest tightened. Damn it. He didn’t need to feel sorry for the chit. That wasn’t why he was here, why he jumped at the chance to help her with her investments when the duke asked. He wanted her to pay for her family’s betrayal toward his. And damn it, he would make her pay. Some way or another.
“Thank you, Lord Ryley.”
