by Gill, Tamara
She shook her head, his words not making any sense. “What do you mean by that? Why should I take care?”
“If you associate yourself with his lordship, you may be tainted by association. A friend of his is an enemy of mine.”
“So, we’re enemies now?” She took another step closer. It was wrong of her, but his scent of sandalwood and something uniquely Lord Ryley pulled her in. The memory of his mouth on hers, commanding a response that drew her in and made her yearn for more. “We were not so the other day,” she said, hoping he’d remember their kiss, even in his drunken state.
His gaze dipped to her lips and a shiver wracked her spine. “No, we were not.”
Her mouth, the memory of her kiss, almost undid Abe. He held on to the balustrade, fighting the urge to wrench her up against him and take her perfect, sweet mouth with his. He’d been uncommonly rude, arrogant, and cutting to her this evening, but seeing her with Lord Perfect had snapped some invisible thread that was holding his two halves together.
He shouldn’t care what the chit did. She could go on and marry whomever she wanted, someone safe and spineless like Lord Perfect. All tormentors were of such caliber. Even so, the thought of Miss Perry marrying such a man left a sour taste in his mouth. The idea of her in another man’s bed made his blood boil.
Damn the wench and her wiles. Her ability to get under his skin must be a trait she’d earned being related to Viscountess Vance. That woman could always raise his hackles whenever he saw her.
“If you can give me a reason as to why I should keep away from Lord Herbert. A sensible reason, not some boyhood hatred you’ve refused to let go, I may do as you heed.”
Abe listened halfheartedly to what Miss Perry said, his attention in his whiskey-fogged mind had diverted to her gown. The deep-pink satin suited her golden locks. The bodice hugged her ample bosom, and her slim waist was accentuated by the drop of the empire-style gown. The little cuff sleeves on her shoulder outlined her slender frame, the skin between where her gloves ended and her gown began begging for a kiss. His mouth.
“My lord? Did you hear anything that I just said?” she asked, catching his gaze.
With every morsel of control, he pushed off from the terrace railing, righting his cravat. “If he pleases you, by all means, marry him. It means nothing to me.” He slipped past her, but she clasped his arm, halting him.
He stared down at her delicate hand, not quite believing she’d manhandled him into stopping.
“You’re a terrible liar, Lord Ryley. And you know I know it.”
He huffed out a laugh, harsh and condescending, hating the fact that a little part of him, a piece he didn’t want to acknowledge, knew she was right. He didn’t like the idea of her power over his person. Not a bloody bit.
“You don’t know anything about me, other than the fact that I’ve taken advantage of you twice by kissing you. Do not read into my actions any more than what they are. I’m not for you, Miss Perry.” He wasn’t for anyone. What he needed was to return to London so the woman before him would stop bothering him so much. Saying things about him that he had to deny while knowing deep down what she said was the truth.
For all his ideals of bringing this woman down, of ruining her, there was something about her that thwarted his plan. Her ease with others, the fact that she had not had everything handed to her like so many of his ilk pulled at his honorable cord.
He reminded himself he’d been raised without parents solely due to Miss Perry’s aunt and Lord Perfect’s mother. Servants and a tutor were the only security he’d had for years. His unhappy childhood could be laid at Miss Perry’s feet and her family.
She watched him, her eyes bright with pity and regret. He’d have none of that. No one looked down at him, not for anything. He glanced at her hand before she became aware of her hold on him. She released him, but not before he read the awareness that ran through her. It vibrated through him as well. An unusual reaction that he’d never had with another woman before. He’d felt the rush of emotion for an impending shag, the desire as his mistress brought him to release, but never had he merely been within the same room as a woman and had his prick stand to attention.
Like it did now beside Miss Perry.
He leaned toward her, almost nose to nose. “I may not be suitable for a husband, but I’m more than happy to accommodate you in other ways. More pleasurable ways if you’re so inclined.”
Her mouth opened and need seized him. Damn her for being sweet enough to pluck. The memory of waking up in his large London home at the tender age of six years to see his mother’s trunks being loaded onto a carriage floated through his mind. He’d begged her to stay, had clutched at her dress, and wailed at the idea of not seeing her again. It would be another twelve years before he did see her again, and that was in Spain where she lived.
She was happy there, had made a life for herself. One consolation he supposed.
Abe stepped back, starting for the door. He would not give in to her charms. She was a Vance. His enemy. She was allowing Lord Perfect to court her. Another enemy. There was no way in hell he’d let himself fall under her charm. No matter how beautiful, how loyal she seemed to be to her friends.
She was not for him.
“Have a pleasant evening, Miss Perry. I wish you well in landing your Lord Perfect.” Abe stormed toward the door, ignoring her shocked gasp behind him. He wasn’t called the Spanish Scoundrel for nothing.
Chapter 9
The next afternoon Willow sat and took tea with Lord Perfect. She frowned at her lapse in concentration and amended her thoughts to that of Lord Herbert. Lord Ryley and his inappropriate opinions on his lordship were wiggling their way into her mind and muddling her thoughts.
The gentleman wasn’t too perfect. He was kind and knowledgeable, and from what he stated about his estates, was not after a wealthy wife. He seemed well-positioned to look after his affairs.
She took a sip of her sweet tea, watching him over the brim of the cup. He was discussing his estate here in Hampton, the extent and how many tenant farms he had. It was a sizable asset, or at least Willow thought it was. All she could hope was that his marked attention on her was heartfelt, and he wasn’t playing her a fool.
Lord Ryley had not told her exactly why he disliked the man so much, but that Whitstone was his friend surely meant he wasn’t so very bad. For all Willow knew, Lord Herbert may have cut Lord Ryley out of a possible mistress or won a game of high-stakes cards, fleecing him of funds.
“Do you have any plans for this afternoon, Miss Perry? I do believe the weather will be fine from what I could deem earlier for a ride.”
Willow glanced out the window and caught sight of Lord Ryley talking to Whitstone out on the terrace outside. Nerves pooled in her stomach, and she tore her gaze back to Lord Herbert, not needing the distraction that his lordship wrought on her every time she saw him. Vexing man.
“I wanted to walk the grounds and catch up on some reading before the entertainments tonight. I do believe the duchess has some games planned for us.”
Laughter caught their attention, and Lord Herbert glanced toward the terrace, his eyes narrowing on the duke. He turned back to her, watching her closely.
“Have you known Lord Ryley for long, Miss Perry?”
She shook her head. “Not at all. He is only a recent acquaintance.”
“Hmmm,” his lordship murmured. “I thought after his intrusion upon us last evening that perhaps I was stepping into a situation that I should not be part of.”
Heat rushed onto her cheeks, and she sipped her tea to bide her time before answering. She had kissed Lord Ryley with abandon. Wantonly she’d allowed him favors that she should not have. The memory of his mouth on her breast ought to scandalize her. Make her feel uncouth and wanton, but it did not. If anything, her body simmered with awakening. A curiosity to learn what else he could make her feel. Which, unfortunately, was so very different from what Lord Herbert made her feel.
“Of cour
se not. We simply have mutual friends, and he was concerned for my reputation being outside with a gentleman. That was all.”
“If only it were the case,” Lord Herbert said, placing down his cup of tea and leaning back in his chair, folding his legs. “May I speak frank, Miss Perry?”
Willow glanced about them, ensuring they were quite out of hearing of others before nodding. “Of course. Please.”
He threw her a small smile before he said, “I want you to know that I’m at that stage in my life that I’m ready to settle down. Marry and start a family. You have probably heard this rumor about London or this house party, but I wanted to let you know that it is true.”
Willow swallowed a sip of tea, having not expected him to be so forward, even so, it was refreshing that a gentleman was telling her the truth of his situation and not merely eluding to it like so many of them did. “I wish you good luck in finding your future wife, my lord.”
He chuckled. “I want you to know that no matter what anyone may say,” he said, glancing at Lord Ryley. “I am honorable and would never play anyone a fool. I would never lead any woman to believe I felt more for them than I did.”
“That is an honorable trait to have, my lord. Thank you for telling me so.”
“I tell you this because I do not wish for your good opinion of me to be sullied by Lord Ryley. I know it is wrong of me to name him so publicly to you, but his hatred of me is of long duration and somewhat jaded. He knows not what he speaks.”
Willow narrowed her eyes at his lordship, before glancing at Lord Ryley. He looked up from talking to Whitstone, and their gazes clashed. Her skin prickled, and her heart thumped loud in her chest at his lordship’s seductive, dark gaze. She wrenched her attention back to Lord Herbert, ignoring the all-consuming man in her peripheral vision.
“Lord Ryley has not spoken ill of you,” she lied, not wanting to further the rift that seemed to be between the gentlemen.
“That is sweet of you to say, but I know he dislikes me, and over the years, his actions within society have made me possibly dislike him just as much. We are not friends, nor will we ever be, but I hope that does not impact our friendship. I would like to get better acquainted if you’re willing.”
Was she willing? Before her sat a man who encumbered all that she was looking for in a husband. He was kind, well-respected by those closest to her in all the world. He was wealthy and titled, and so could not be termed a fortune hunter. Handsome too, with his dark-blue eyes and blond locks that were short and well-trimmed.
He may not light a fire in her soul, but maybe that would come in time. If he kissed her, perhaps then that would spark a reaction within her, similar to what occurred with Lord Ryley. She would not know until she tried.
“I would like that very much, my lord.”
He threw her a broad smile and she felt a little giddy at his interest in her. She would give Lord Herbert time and see. To throw him over for Lord Ryley simply because his lordship had kissed her first was no reason at all not to see if someone else may suit her better.
Lord Ryley was not the marrying type. He was the type who stormed through a courtship, spinning everyone and leaving those affected by him heartbroken in his wake. She didn’t wish to be left heartbroken by him. Ruined and left without a backward glance when something else more interesting, more alluring came along.
He’d said himself he wasn’t made to be a husband, and she wouldn’t try and make him into something he did not want to be. He would only end up resenting her, and that would never be palatable to her. A future with Lord Ryley was unattainable, but a future with Lord Herbert was a possibility. She would be a simpleton indeed to push him away just because Lord Ryley’s kisses were so delectably naughty.
“Maybe this afternoon on your walk, I may join you?” he asked sweetly.
Willow could feel the heat of Lord Ryley’s gaze on her, but she refused to look at him. He was an error of judgment on her behalf, a slip of common sense that thankfully had righted itself before too much damage was made. Lord Herbert, on the other hand, was safe, sweet, and willing to see where their courtship could take them. A much better option for her. “I would like that, my lord. Shall we meet on the terrace outside the library after luncheon?”
“I look forward to it, Miss Perry.”
Their afternoon stroll had been pleasant. They had talked about London, her plans going forward, her desire to travel abroad, where Willow was doubly pleased to hear that Lord Herbert too was looking to travel in the next year or so.
Willow found they both liked horses, lived not far from each other in London. As they strolled the grounds of the duke and duchess’s new estate, looking at the plants and the small stream that ran through the property, she could not fathom as to why Lord Ryley disliked the gentlemen so much. He certainly seemed harmless. That his mother had been best friends with her aunt had put her mind at ease over his character. Even though she could not recall seeing her aunt and his mother together much in society.
Could the friendship have cooled a little over time? Or was it that their lives had simply moved in different directions? “You said that your mother was close to my aunt, and yet I rarely saw them in town together. Please tell me if I’m overstepping my bounds, but do you know why that was the case?”
Lord Herbert frowned, and she marveled at how handsome he was. Not in the dark, brooding kind of way Lord Ryley was, but in an ethereal, godlike way instead. Where Lord Ryley was dark, Lord Herbert was light. It was probably why she had gravitated toward Lord Ryley in the first place. A dark god, full of shadows and trickery always fooled its prey into believing they were something they were not.
Lord Ryley would no longer outwit her.
“You are right. They were not as close as they once were. I suppose their lives took them in different directions and social spheres. My mother, as you know, married an earl, but because they debuted the same year, they were always friends and did try and see each other as much as events allowed.”
They strolled along, and Willow stared down at the grassy, soft lawn beneath her slippers. The air smelled of fresh pine and flowers, a light, cooling breeze took the sting out of the day’s heat. Ava’s new estate was very picturesque, and as they came around the west side of the house, they caught sight of the stables and new racing track Ava would use to train her horses.
“Understandable of course. My aunt only married a viscount, and I suppose even that rank can cause a chasm to open up between friends.” Willow caught sight of Ava atop a horse, the duke at her side, glancing up at her with adoration. She hoped that her friendship with Ava and Hallie would not cease because they were now both titled and far above her, Evie, and Molly in rank. They had been friends for so many years, and she didn’t know what she would do if she lost them.
His lordship strolled beside her, his arms clasped behind his back. She studied him a moment. “My friendships with Ava, Hallie, Evie, and Molly are the most important friendships of my life. No matter whom I marry, I shall never allow rank or wealth or opinions to come between that bond.” Willow raised her chin, needing his lordship to know that should he ask her and she decided to marry his lordship, become a countess, she would not allow anyone, or any of his circle to influence or stop her friendship with Evie and Molly. Should either of her friends marry even a clergyman or gentleman farmer, she would continue to invite and love them as much as she did now, and the ton could go hang if it did not like it.
“That is a noble ideal, Miss Perry, but society has a way sometimes of coming between even the strongest of friendships.”
Willow smiled noncommittedly and started toward where the duke stood watching Ava ride. “Shall we join Whitstone before we return indoors? Perhaps he can tell us a little more about these games that the duchess has in store for us all. She’s been very secretive and will not say a word about it,” she said, wanting to end their little stroll together. That he’d said what he did about her friendships rattled her. For all his kindness, hi
s gentlemanly behavior, his words left her cold. Would he expect her to leave her friendship with Evie and Molly behind because of their position? It wasn’t to be borne, but then, maybe he was speaking in general terms, not of what his own opinion was on the matter.
As they came up to the duke, she smiled in welcome and was pleased that the gentlemen became engrossed in talk of horses and the breeding of them. Willow slipped away unnoticed, needing the sanctity of her room. Why did having to find a husband have to be so very confusing and vexing? She was starting to think this whole idea of marriage was an absurd notion that was too much work.
And not the least worth the effort.
Chapter 10
Abe had given Miss Perry some space over the last few days, but with each passing moment, the marked attention of Lord Herbert had started to irk. Why, he couldn’t fathom. He didn’t want to marry the chit. He didn’t want to marry anyone.
His mother’s parting words before she fled to Spain were to be careful of who he gave his heart to. She could have only meant one thing by that. That she’d given her heart to his father, and in her time of need, when she had needed him to stand up with her against those who ridiculed and taunted her, he had not.
Up to this time in his life, Abe had not felt the smallest inclination to give his heart to anyone. To let another in to know all his dark, ugly secrets. Until Miss Perry, that was.
Abe started at the thought, running a hand through his hair. What the blazes was he talking about? He didn’t feel anything beyond mild amusement with Miss Perry. For all her pretty looks and ample bank balance, she held no special place in his life.
Did she?
He swore, storming, more than strolling toward the stables. He stood corrected. She wasn’t just amusement, she was the sole reason he was out in the country for a blasted week. He needed her to sign off on a specific investment that would hurt her financially.
