He broke the kiss, sucking in deep, heavy breaths. After snatching Alice’s book from the shelf, he held it in front of him. A sly grin crept to his lips. “I am shocked by your conduct, Miss North. I thought you were the prim and proper one in all this. Fancy pressing yourself against a gentleman and then kissing him in a bookshop.”
She put a hand to her chest as she struggled to get her bearings. Her wits were still spinning in a circle. “Could I please have my book?”
He shook his head; the man was clearly in discomfort. “Not just yet. Give me a minute or two.”
Alice stepped back, creating a respectable distance between them as another customer appeared at the end of the next aisle over. She raised an amused eyebrow at Harry but stopped when she caught a glimpse of the expression on his face. It was anything but humorous.
Oh. I see. Did I do that to him? Well now, that changes things.
“Thank you for recommending The History of Persia, Lord Steele. I am certain my brother shall appreciate his birthday present immensely,” she said.
“It was my pleasure, Miss North. If you need me to recommend any other historical works, you only have to ask,” he ground out.
The other customer continued on along the row and out of sight.
This moment was glorious in Alice’s eyes. Harry had foolishly thought he had the upper hand in this little game. She might well be a novice when it came to the art of flirting, but she had still managed to teach him a nice and naughty lesson.
Alice reached out and brushed a hand on Harry’s cheek. She leaned in close and touched her lips briefly to his, exalting when he swallowed deeply.
“Be careful what games you play, Lord Steele. You might find you are not always the winner,” she whispered.
And with that, she snatched the book out of his hands and walked away.
Bloody. Bloody. Urgh! How was he supposed to make it all the way back to Grosvenor Street when he was in such a state? Of all the mornings he had decided to walk instead of taking his carriage. There was no way he could attempt to leave Hatchards, let alone hail a hack in his current condition.
Harry grabbed a heavy tome on global economics on his way to the back of the bookshop. With book in hand, he settled into a comfortable chair and set to dealing with the problem of his hardened member.
He was annoyed with himself. Only callow youths let their cocks run wild in public. When was the last time he had allowed a woman to get him into such an aroused state when he wasn’t naked and about to engage in the sexual act?
A very long time. Never?
Opening the book at a random page, he began to read.
Capitation taxes, so far as they are levied upon the lower ranks of people, are direct taxes upon the wages of labour, and are attended with all the inconveniences of such taxes.
Within minutes, the dry notes of Adam Smith’s, The Wealth of Nations, did the job. Harry set the book aside and turned his thoughts to the question of Alice.
He hadn’t gone looking for her this morning. It had been a fortunate coincidence that she just happened to be in Hatchards at the same time he did.
The minute he’d set eyes on her, he had started to behave like a lovestruck fool—following her around the shop, hiding behind the shelves, but making sure she saw him. He sighed. It was embarrassing to think what he had done.
And all over a woman. A client.
Her reaction to his kiss was what had him truly scratching his head. There was no doubt that she enjoyed his advances; Alice had kissed him back. She hadn’t even slapped him this time. He was making progress.
But progress toward what?
As Harry stepped out the front door of the bookshop, not having purchased a single item, a spark lit in his brain. He liked Miss Alice North. She appeared to find him not completely offensive to her senses. In his part of society, marriages had been forged on less.
The thought pulled him up short. He was a clever man, but even the brightest of minds sometimes struggled to perceive what was straight in front of their faces.
On the side of the street, in the middle of the crush of Piccadilly, Lord Harry Steele grappled with the notion that perhaps he liked Alice more than just a little. He liked her a whole lot. And when he had finally wrestled the idea to the ground, he was left with one startling truth.
While he had been stealing kisses from her, Miss Alice North had stolen his heart.
Damn. I am falling for this woman.
Chapter 10
Alice waved to him from across the street.
“I am in so much trouble,” he muttered as he made his way toward her.
“I was wondering how long it would take you to become presentable again,” she teased.
The only polite response available to that remark, whilst one was standing in the middle of Piccadilly, was to ignore it.
Alice motioned toward a nearby carriage. “May I offer you a ride home?”
As he climbed aboard, Harry pondered when the competition between them for breaking society rules and expectations had started, because Alice seemed to be keeping up a cracking pace. He suspected she was in the lead.
The door closed behind him and he settled on the bench opposite to her.
“You are not meant to know what happens to a man who finds a woman sexually attractive. Where did the whole shy-and-naïve-miss act go?” he asked.
“You forget to whom you are talking. I don’t think any of the North children were ever shy. Granted, we can be naïve at times, but my younger brother, Finn, has never been one for keeping the secrets of the world to himself. I was one of the first people he told when he’d lost his virginity,” replied Alice.
He did what?
Harry blinked hard. He had to meet this Finn North and explain to him what the word confidential meant.
Alice rummaged around in her reticule and took out a small purse. She dangled it in front of Harry. “This is the next progress payment for your services. But I want to know what you are doing about Mister Cuthbert Saint before I hand it over.”
Cheeky minx. And here was me thinking I had you in the palm of my hand.
He sensed a perceptible shift in the mood from light banter to something darker. The sexy game of hide-and seek-in the bookshop now forgotten. But if Alice was going to literally hold his money over his head, the least Harry could do was to be completely honest with her.
“We are going to wait,” he replied.
‘Why?” she huffed, angrily stuffing the purse back into her reticule.
Harry took in a long, slow breath, refusing to let his need for blunt cloud his judgement. He had done that once before—never again.
“There are some people working on uncovering more information. Once I am in possession of it, we can look to move forward,” he said.
Harry’s businesslike demeanor cracked the instant tears sprang to Alice’s eyes. He leapt across the carriage and hauled her into his arms.
Alice lay her head against Harry’s chest and quietly sobbed. She just wanted it all to be over. For Patience to be free of Cuthbert’s hold. This waiting and taking small, measured steps was killing her. Sometimes she wished for nothing more than to strike Cuthbert down and keep hitting until there was nothing left of him.
“Why? Why does it have to be this way?” She sighed.
The stroke of his warm hand on her cheek gave little comfort. When Harry loosened the ties on her bonnet and slipped it from her head, Alice didn’t protest.
“Look at me,” he said.
She wiped her tears away with the heel of her hand and met his gaze.
“Not long after I started, I was dealing with a matter very similar to this one. It was early days in my scandal-managing career, and I was eager to show my client how well I could deal with the problem. I made some hasty judgements about the gentleman involved, and they were later proven to be incorrect. I didn’t just tear apart a couple who were in love; I caused a man’s death.”
“Oh, Harry, that’s terrible. But you cannot thi
nk that would happen in this case. Cuthbert doesn’t love Patience,” she replied.
He brushed a kiss on her forehead and ran his fingers over her hair, all the while remaining silent. Alice considered Harry’s words. Could she possibly be seeing Cuthbert wrong? And what would she do if he transpired to be just as lovestruck as Patience?
I don’t believe for one minute that he truly cares for her, but I would rather be sure.
She pulled out of his embrace and sat back. Harry was right to be cautious. They had to be certain and in possession of irrefutable evidence if they were going to convince Patience of the truth of Cuthbert. Her sister may eventually forgive her for unveiling him as a rascal, but she would most certainly never do that if things with Cuthbert ended in tragedy.
“How long do you think it will take?” she asked.
“A few days, possibly more. You have to trust that I have people watching him and your sister. The instant he makes a move to spirit her away, I will not hesitate to take action,” replied Harry.
He took her hand in his and slipped her glove off. The soft kisses that he placed on the tip of each finger had Alice drawing a shuddering breath. It was wrong to be allowing him such liberties when they were busily trying to tear Patience and Cuthbert apart.
And yet the comfort that this unexpected tenderness brought to her was exactly what she wanted. At the onset of their relationship, they had simply flirted and teased one another. But within a short time, Harry seemed to have developed an innate understanding of what Alice needed from him. And right now, that was his strength and comfort.
“In the meantime, I want you to think about yourself. Alice, you are being so incredibly strong for both Patience and your family. But as someone who has a history of dealing with scandal, I am worried that you are in danger of becoming lost,” he said.
Lost?
“When your every waking minute is spent worrying about someone else, you do lose sight of your own life. Believe me, I have seen it enough times to know when it is happening.”
He had a point. Apart from the visit to the bookshop this morning, Alice couldn’t remember having done anything purely for herself over the past few weeks.
“When this is all over, then I will make some time for me,” she replied.
“And what about me? Will you have time for Harry Steele?” As he spoke, Harry moved closer. He placed the softest, most tender kiss of all time on Alice’s lips. For a brief moment, everything stopped.
All the whirling thoughts in her mind slipped away, leaving just the two of them. The only sound was the thump of her heart as it pounded in Alice’s ears. She reached for his hand as he gently broke the kiss.
“Harry,” she whispered.
When he came back to her, Alice met the second embrace with as much reverence as she could find in her heart.
In that moment, if he had asked her what she wanted, she would have told Harry the honest truth. She didn’t want jewels or fancy clothes. She simply wanted him.
Chapter 11
Alice had thought that there could be nothing worse than bearing witness to Patience and Cuthbert while they cooed and made doe eyes at one another, but she was wrong. Watching them fight was torture at its worst. While Cuthbert played it cool, Patience failed to live up to her name. Tears and much wringing of handkerchiefs was the order of the evening.
“He is a beastly brute,” moaned Patience. Alice simply nodded. She had learned not to offer up her true opinion of Cuthbert Saint.
What had started out as a pleasant visit to a musical event at a private home had quickly deteriorated after an argument had sprung up between Patience and Cuthbert not long after they had arrived. Cuthbert had made the critical mistake of not gushing over the new gown that Patience had debuted this evening, and her sister was making him pay dearly.
To add further to Alice’s woes, she had been the one most keen to attend this particular gathering, and it had taken some kind words and a coin or two to secure an invitation. A famous conductor from Vienna was going to perform with a top-notch orchestra. After the performance, there was going to be dancing. Alice loved to dance; it was one of the few socially acceptable ways for a young woman to publicly enjoy herself within the ton.
“I think we should discuss this in private,” said Cuthbert.
With a derisive sniff, Patience followed him to an out-of-the-way spot in the corner near one of the staircases. Alice sent a silent prayer to heaven. Dear Lord, please let her give him his marching orders.
“Correct me if I am wrong, but there appears to be a distinct chill between your sister and our friend tonight,” said a voice from behind her.
Harry. Thank heaven for small mercies.
“Don’t get your hopes up. Knowing Patience, she will forgive him, and all will be lovey-dovey before the orchestra finishes tuning their instruments.” Alice cast a sideways glance at Harry as he came and stood alongside her.
When he gently placed his hand on the small of her back and left it there to linger, a shiver slid down her spine. If he had any idea what that did to her, he was keeping mum.
Alice turned and gave Harry a fuller inspection. She had never seen a man dressed in such an eye-catching color before. “Is that pink?”
Harry rolled his eyes. “Salmon, darling. I would never be so common as to wear pink. A gentleman has to have standards. I must say I love your burgundy and gold gown, especially the way you wear the sleeves off your shoulders. It suits you much better than that grey shroud you wore to the Ashton’s ball.”
“Um, thank you,” she replied.
Alice’s thoughts were too full of Harry’s outfit for her to respond more than that. Her gaze roamed over his attire from top to bottom, then moved back to the top again. There was so much happening that it necessitated a second look.
He was right; the floor-length fully-buttoned-up coat was a fetching shade of salmon. So was the tall silk hat he wore. Then came the black lace, which trimmed the cuffs of the coat and around the band of the hat. But what truly stole the show, however, was the white fur trim around the raised collar of the garment. It gave Harry’s gorgeous face an almost angelic appearance.
When did I start thinking of him as being gorgeous? I have clearly lost my mind.
She caught a glimpse of bare ankle and narrowed her eyes. “Dare I ask what you are wearing beneath your outer garment?” she said.
Harry shook his head. “I don’t think the hostess of this evening would forgive even me if I unbuttoned my coat. Let me just say, it is a tad daring and a whole lot scandalous.”
“Why wear it, then, if you are not going to do the grand reveal?” she replied.
The slow, salacious smile which crept across his lips set her heart racing. Others might see him as bordering on lunatic, but to Alice, he was mesmerizing. Here in the middle of the toff of the ton was an individual who really didn’t give a damn what people thought of him.
“I don’t plan to stay long at this dull-as-dishwater shindy. I am here to check on our fraudulent foe and then leave,” he replied.
And go where?
He was going to abandon her. Disappointment and a touch of irritation stirred within. Didn’t he have any idea as to how famous this conductor was? And if not, couldn’t he at least summon up enough interest in her to want to stay? Especially after the small private moments they had shared of late.
Obviously not. Foolish girl. Fancy thinking that Harry could be seriously interested in you.
That particular notion hurt Alice on a deeper level than she liked. The sting of rejection burned.
“I am sorry that you think these cultural moments are beneath you. As for myself, I have been counting down the days until Herr Schwartz arrived in London,” she bit back.
Alice turned away. Tears threatened, but Harry took hold of her arm and drew her back. Blinking hard, she glared at him. If he thought to kiss her, she was going to nip him on the lips instead. Arrogant, pompous man.
The heady scent of sandalwo
od soap and another mysterious spice she couldn’t name quickly filled her senses. Being this close to him was like breathing in his essence.
“I’m sorry. That was cruel and unkind. I shouldn’t mock something that you love. Forgive me,” he said.
She had never seen Harry so earnest. There was not a trace of insincerity about him. It was tempting to ask him what had changed, but she held back.
“I never want to see you again, Cuthbert Saint. You are a . . . cold fish.”
They both turned at those words. Patience came storming toward them with Cuthbert hot on her heels.
Alice put a comforting arm around her sister. “What is the matter?” she asked.
“Just a silly misunderstanding. It is nothing of consequence,” replied Cuthbert, flatly.
Patience threw up her arms. “That’s all I am to you—insignificant and foolish.”
“You know that is not true. You mean the world to me,” replied Cuthbert.
Harry caught Alice’s eye, and to her bone-deep relief, he stepped forward. Patience immediately ceased her tantrum and stood staring at him, mouth agape.
“Perhaps now might be a good time to take you home, Miss Patience. My carriage is outside. I often find a little time and distance helps in these sorts of situations,” offered Harry.
“Could you, Lord Steele? That would be most kind of you. We sent our carriage home, not expecting to be finished for a few hours more. What do you think, Patience?” said Alice.
Her sister pursed her lips. “I think that is very good idea. The sooner I am away from Mister Saint the better.”
As Cuthbert went to protest, Harry drew him aside. “Let her go home. A good night’s sleep often cures these ills.”
He clearly wasn’t happy with this development, but to his credit, Cuthbert didn’t push the issue. He bowed to the group and quickly left.
Patience turned back to Alice and promptly burst into tears. By the time they made their exit, she was in an inconsolable state.
Harry wasted no time in having his coach brought around to the front of the elegant town house, and within minutes, the three of them were headed for Mortimer Street and the North family home.
Have Yourself a Merry Little Scandal: a Christmas collection of Historical Romance (Have Yourself a Merry Little... Book 1) Page 7
