The Accidental Mistress

by Tracy Anne Warren

  Linking her gloved hands in her lap, she forced herself to resist. “While I concede there would be no room for impropriety, I do not think—”

  “Don’t think, dear lady,” he murmured with silky persuasion, “just say yes.” He shot her a quick glance. “I can see by your face that you’re dying to learn how to handle the ribbons. And although I am not generally in the habit of lauding my own abilities, I am considered by most to be an excellent driver. I can assure you, I will never pitch us into a fruit stand, nor give you the opportunity to do so while you are in the process of learning.”

  A laughed escaped her lips. “No, I have no fears on that score.” And I don’t, she realized, feeling as safe with him as a babe in a cradle.

  “Then give me the pleasure of teaching you,” he urged. “It will be great fun, I promise.”

  I am sure it shall, which is precisely the reason I ought to refuse.

  “If it will allay your concerns,” he offered, “I promise to keep our lessons strictly platonic. You can think of me in the guise of a trusted cousin.”

  She chuckled. “A distant cousin, I presume, who isn’t above leading his female relations astray. Now, were you to swear to act like my brother…”

  “You do not have a brother,” he replied with a growl.

  “Exactly so.”

  He tossed her a look that was equal parts amusement and exasperation. “Just say yes, Lily.”

  How easy he made it sound. She wondered if Eve had felt this way while contemplating the apple. Still, it wasn’t as though she were agreeing to join him in bed…only inside his carriage, where even now she had only to tip her head a bit in order to catch his delicious male scent, or lean slightly to one side to accidentally brush up against his long, athletic frame.

  Worrying the edge of her lower lip between her teeth, she waged a silent battle, her heart warring viciously with her head. Say no, her conscience warned. Then he gave her a smile that turned her limbs to butter. “Yes, all right,” she agreed in a rush. “How soon may we begin? Today?”

  He laughed. “No, not today. It’s too late in the afternoon to find any uncrowded streets, though I believe one of the parks might be the easiest location in which to begin. If you run a wheel off a lane there, the worst you’ll do is crush a few flowers and tear out a bit of grass.”

  Up came her chin. “Who says I shall be running off the road? I suspect I will amaze you.”

  He grinned, tiny lines fanning out at the corners of his eyes. “I have no doubt that you will.”

  Pleasurable warmth washed over her skin, a sensation she knew had nothing to do with the late spring temperatures.

  “What do you say to nine-thirty tomorrow morning?” he suggested. “Or is that too early?”

  She shook her head. “I am an early riser, so that should prove a most excellent time.”

  “Ah, another intriguing morsel of information about your personal habits. I will think of you tomorrow morning as I bathe and dress, wondering if you are awake and doing the same.”

  She swallowed against the provocative images his words inspired. “I thought you had agreed to behave while we are having our lessons?”

  “But we are not having a lesson. I said nothing of the times before and after.”

  Her heart thumped. “Then I see I shall have to be careful to avoid your company, except when I am being tutored.”

  Using barely perceptible movements on the reins, he slowed the phaeton and brought the vehicle to an easy halt. Shifting in the seat, he pressed his knee against her muslin-covered thigh. “You can certainly try, my dear Lily,” he whispered. “In fact, I look forward to witnessing your attempts.”

  God above, what have I gotten myself into? she wondered.

  “I will be here on the morrow to collect you,” he murmured. “Try not to be tardy.”

  Only then did she realize they had arrived at her townhouse, and that her butler was holding open the front door to receive her. A footman came forward to assist her from the carriage, but the marquis jumped down first to do the honors. Instead of reaching up a single hand, though, he set his broad palms against her waist and lifted her from the carriage, cradling her against his body an extra second before placing her safely onto the ground. His hands lingered before he finally let her go. “Until tomorrow, madam.”

  With an elegant bow, he tipped his beaver top hat, then sprang once again into the phaeton. Taking up the reins, he drove away.

  Steadying her wobbly legs, she forced herself to turn and walk inside.

  Ethan arrived at Lily’s townhouse the following morning at precisely nine-thirty to find her downstairs and ready to depart. All business, she offered him a polite smile as she pulled on a pair of dove-gray gloves that matched her fashionable carriage dress and sturdy kid half-boots. “Good morning, my lord. Shall we be on our way?”

  With an indulgent grin, he swept an accommodating arm toward the door.

  A small measure of her armor slipped once they were outside, her expression a bit nonplussed. “Oh, did you not bring the phaeton?”

  He shook his head and extended a hand to help her inside his curricle. “Indeed no. A high-flyer phaeton is not the sort of vehicle on which a novice driver ought to learn. This equipage will be quite daring enough.”

  “It does not look daring at all,” she murmured askance, as she eyed the elegant, yet far lower-slung, black carriage.

  “Let us see if you still feel the same way once you are in control of the reins. Now, up you go.”

  Before she had time to remark further, he’d settled her in the carriage next to him and set the horses in motion. By the time they reached St. James’s Park, her spirits were fully restored, excitement radiating visibly from her as he drove them through the entrance gates. He’d chosen this particular park in hopes of encountering few vehicles and even fewer members of the Ton. She would learn little if they were constantly stopping to chat. Besides, he rather hoped to keep her to himself—all to himself.

  Locating an out-of-the-way stretch of road deep inside the park, he drew the carriage to a stop. “Here we are,” he declared. “Time to commence our lesson.”

  “Oh, wonderful!” She straightened with undisguised anticipation. “So, what do I do first?”

  “First, you listen,” he said. “Now, the big fellow on your right, his name is Thunder, and you’ll signal most of your cues through him. Lightning, the beauty on your left, is a good girl, who will always follow his lead.”

  “Thunder and Lightning, hmm?” she remarked, obvious humor in her voice. “Are they as volatile as their names?”

  “Not a bit. I dare swear you would have trouble finding a more loyal, obedient team than these two. No, when it comes to being volatile, they leave that up to me.” With a wink, he slid closer, letting his shoulder brush ever so lightly against her own.

  Tossing him a look, she shifted deliberately away. “And what of your natural propensity for misbehavior? Are they conversant with that aspect of your personality as well?”

  He laughed. “I’m sure they have a fair estimation of all my humors, though I do not believe they would view my actions as misbehavior. Horses, after all, are creatures of pleasure. Would that more humans took note and followed their lead.”

  Clearing her throat, she continued. “Speaking of leads, you were explaining how best to communicate with the team.”

  “Ah, yes, and so I was,” he said with a grin. “Let us proceed.”

  Casting him a glance from underneath her lashes, Lily wondered if she had made a mistake agreeing to his lessons. So far his instructions had as much to do with seducing her as they did with driving. But I can manage him, she told herself, at least I hope I can manage him.

  “Be gentle with the ribbons and learn to trust what your team tells you. Now, why don’t we give things a try. Hold out your hands.”

  “My hands?” she repeated with skeptical caution.

  “Yes. How else do you expect to learn to control the reins? Your
voice and hands will always be your two best allies,” he explained. “It’s like making love. Whisper sweet things in their ears, keep your touch gentle and pleasurable, and you’ll never go wrong.”

  She arched a reproving eyebrow.

  He gave a slow, unrepentant grin. “Hands, please.”

  Despite her better judgment, she stretched out her palms.

  A moment later, he slid close again and positioned himself so his hip was touching hers. Before she could object, he looped an arm around her shoulders, then reached down to cover both of her hands with his own. A helpless quiver unfurled deep within her, keenly aware of their unanticipated embrace. “My lord, what do you think you are doing?”

  Apparent innocence shone from his eyes. “Merely instructing you, nothing more. How else are you to get the feel of things, if I do not show you? Now relax or you’ll spook the team.”

  Relax! she scoffed. How am I supposed to relax when I am practically sitting on his lap? But she tried nonetheless, remaining quiescent as he pressed the reins into her hands and threaded the supple leather around and between her fingers.

  “Stay loose and easy,” he said, his mouth far too close to her ear. “Remain calm, yet always in control. Thunder and Lightning will read any hesitation or tension you are feeling and respond accordingly. To move them forward, flick the ribbons like so.” Retaining his clasp, he matched his words to his actions, adding a low clicking sound with his tongue. The horses immediately eased into a quiet walk.

  “Light pressure is all you need to signal direction. Softly, like this…,” he said, gently demonstrating the movement. “And a bit more for a turn, but we’ll save that for later. Straight ahead is best for this first time out.”

  Keeping his hands curled over her own, he guided her forward, flicking the reins again to subtly increase their speed. “And this,” he said, after a couple more yards, “is how to bring them to a halt.” Pulling back with effortless control, he eased the team to a perfect stop. “Everything clear?”

  Willing her heart to quit hammering, she nodded, his instructions little more than a blur in her head.

  “Good,” he said. “Then, why don’t you have a go on your own.”

  “All right.” She arched her spine, quite pointedly inserting new inches between them. “I believe I should attempt this on my own. All on my own.”

  Grinning, he released her hands and withdrew his arm, then leaned back against the seat. A glance at his face reminded her of an expression she had once seen on Mouser’s face right after he’d finished playing with a particularly lively mouse. Well, I may be dressed in gray this morning, she mused, but I am no mouse. Though at the moment, the marquis did bear a striking resemblance to a cat—a large, golden cat who took great pleasure in stalking his prey.

  Drawing a deep breath, she forced such thoughts aside, then stared in consternation at the reins, struggling to recall what he’d shown her. Thunder chose that moment to shake his dark, equine head and snuffle softly through his nostrils, plainly aware of the change of drivers. Lightning followed suit, repeating the other horse’s gestures, the pair of them apparently exchanging some sort of private communication.

  “They’re just testing you, wanting to know who you are,” Ethan murmured. “Flick the ribbons like I showed you and let them know you are in charge.”

  Tossing him a sideways glance, she did as he instructed, moving the reins up and down in a light jingle.

  Neither horse moved.

  “A little harder than that,” he encouraged with a barely concealed laugh.

  Her lips thinned. Harder, hmm? Putting some strength behind her actions, she gave the reins a firm snap. This time the team lurched forward, sending the curricle into a jolting roll that slid both her and the marquis across the seat. But even as he reached out to help her, she eluded his hands, repositioning her hold more solidly on the reins. Arm muscles straining, she fought to control the more than one thousand pounds of horseflesh under her command, doing her utmost to guide the animals and the carriage in a straight line along the path. At her side, Ethan leaned back again in the seat, apparently willing to let her proceed for the time being.

  The grass and trees flashed past at what seemed far too quick a pace, wheels whirring as the horse’s hooves clop-clopped on the pavers. Her breath soughed in and out between her parted lips, her tongue growing dry, while the inside of her gloves dampened with perspiration. She waited for the marquis to attempt another intercession, but he remained relaxed and quiet.

  And that is when a sudden realization dawned upon her. “I am doing it,” she blurted. “I am driving!”

  “Yes,” he agreed with a smile in his voice. “You most certainly are.”

  Ahead of her, the path angled into a pair of easy curves. Holding steady, she guided the team around the first one and then the next, taking each as if she had been driving for years. A laugh burst from her throat, along with a simple, exuberant joy. Shooting Ethan a look, she met his gaze and read in his amber irises an enjoyment that mirrored her own. Dappled sunlight moved over his features, playing across his face and through his hair in a way that turned each short, thick lock a vibrant, gleaming gold.

  Her pulse skipped like a stone. Turning her eyes forward, she fought the sensation, assuring herself it was a result of the moment and had nothing whatsoever to do with the man at her side.

  Liar.

  Suddenly another coach appeared, moving toward them at a brisk speed. Tugging at the reins, she pulled up too quickly and at too sharp an angle as she tried to maneuver out of the way. With a hard jolt, the right wheel bumped off the path and onto the grass, the team stopping as the other carriage rushed past.

  “Had enough for one day?” the marquis inquired in a gentle voice.

  Gathering a breath, she shook her head. “No.”

  He smiled, and helpless to stop herself, she smiled back.

  A moment later, her arm muscles twinged hard, letting her know she might have spoken too soon. “Well, perhaps I could do with a tiny break.” She cast a glance around. “Heavens, it seems I’ve pitched us into the boughs!”

  “Not to worry. We’ll be out in a thrice. You drove splendidly, by the way, for a first outing. Better than most.”

  “Most women, you mean.”

  “No, most people of either sex.”

  Warmth grew in her chest at his words of approbation.

  “Would you care to steer us out?” he offered.

  She mulled over the question for an instant, then handed him the reins. “Thank you, my lord, but for now, I shall leave such matters in your capable hands.”

  His gaze skimmed her face. “Ah, if only I could convince you to leave everything in my hands, we would have a fine time indeed.”

  “Enough of that, my lord,” she admonished. “Or should I say cousin?”

  A chuckle burst from his lips. “Distant cousin, remember? So, when shall we have our next lesson? Will the same time tomorrow morning suit?”

  Tomorrow!

  Even though she knew she should refuse, temptation beckoned. After all, how else was she supposed to learn to drive? “Yes, all right,” she agreed. “Tomorrow morning it is.”

  His eyes alive with pleasure, he gave a soft click of his tongue, deftly righted the curricle, and set the team on its way.

  Chapter Ten

  ON A FINE, sunny June morning nearly two weeks later, Ethan stood bare-chested in front of his dressing-stand mirror. Wielding the well-sharpened edge of a straight razor, he scraped a last row of soap-covered whiskers off his left cheek, then set down the blade and splashed his face clean in a basin of warm water. As he straightened, a freshly laundered towel appeared within his line of sight. Taking it, he patted dry his smooth-shaven cheeks.

  “Thank you, Welk,” he said, passing the thick cloth back to his valet.

  Crossing to the opposite side of his expansive dressing room, he donned the white shirt his valet had set out for him. Buttoning the garment, he tucked it into his d
ark-brown trousers, then added a dun-colored waistcoat before taking a position in front of the full-length mirror to tie his cravat. As plebeian as some aristocrats might find the habit, he preferred to dress himself rather than stand like a mannequin while his valet did all the work. Since the time he’d quit wearing short coats, he’d stopped needing help with anything other than the occasional tight-fitting coat or to remove his boots.

  He’d just finished tightening a last knot when Welk reappeared in the doorway.

  “Your pardon, my lord,” the older man said, “but his Grace, the Duke of Wyvern, is here to see you.”

  “Show him up, of course.”

  “I’m up already,” Tony called from the adjoining sitting room, having obviously overheard his and Welk’s muted conversation.

  The duke had ears as keen as a cat’s, as Ethan had learned when they’d met all those many years ago as boys at Harrow. And very little escaped his notice, despite his often lazy-lidded gaze and outwardly relaxed façade.

  Wyvern’s blue eyes appeared keen and bright this morning, Ethan noticed as he strode out of his dressing room. “Hello, Tony. What brings you by so early?”

  The duke planted a set of knuckles at his waist. “There’s a prime stallion up for auction at Tattersall’s this morning. I’m considering putting in a bid and was wondering if you’d care to accompany me.”

  That was another thing he well knew about Tony—that he was a bruising rider with an excellent eye for horseflesh. When an interesting animal came to his notice, he never hesitated to acquire the beast for his stables, which were generally regarded as among the finest in the country.

  “Breakfast?” Ethan asked, crossing to a square mahogany table set beneath one of the room’s three sun-filled windows. A footman was busy arranging plates of food on the linen-covered surface, the appetizing aroma of eggs, ham, and toast making Ethan’s stomach rumble with hunger.