His arrogance made her determined to resist him, even as something about him tugged her toward him and made her long for his touch. It was really her nature she’d have to fight, not Sin’s. The memory of their encounter in the library flashed into her mind and a shiver tingled through her. Blast it, what is it about him that makes me react so? And why don’t I enjoy the company of less threatening men?
When she’d been in London for her season, the poet Byron had been taking London by storm and men of his stamp were all the rage. Byron was soft-looking and spoke with an assumed affectation that made Rose cringe. Aunt Lettice had been in swoons over him, but Rose had been thoroughly unimpressed.
No, she preferred a far different sort of man. She liked a man who looked like a man, one with broad shoulders and muscled arms. A man who could fill out the knitted breeches that were so fashionable today as they molded to his powerful thighs. Her eyes found Sin across the room, her gaze moving up his legs, and then higher . . . Realizing suddenly that she was staring, she jerked her gaze up and found Sin regarding her with an amused look.
Rose spun away, her face hot. As she did so, she accidentally locked eyes with Mr. Munro, who promptly began making his way toward her.
Oh, no. I had enough of him during dinner. Rose hurried to Miss Isobel’s side for shelter. Just as she reached Miss Isobel, MacDougal appeared with a tray that held glasses of sherry for the ladies. Rose gratefully took one.
As soon as the sherry was served, the duchess lifted her own glass. “My dear guests, may I have your attention?”
Everyone turned to the duchess, who beamed at Rose. “Miss Balfour was telling us over dinner how much she enjoys riding.”
Everyone now stared at Rose. She placed her empty glass on MacDougal’s tray and he promptly handed her a full one.
“And so,” the duchess continued, “Lady Charlotte has suggested that we take a lovely ride tomorrow afternoon to the picturesque ruins of old Roxburghe Castle, followed by a picnic. There’s a wide, even pathway that wends through the woods and along the banks of the River Tweed. For those of you not inclined to ride, we will have carriages awaiting, as well.”
A smattering of “hear, hear” and applause met this announcement, Miss Isobel the loudest of them all. Rose could only suspect that someone had once told Miss Isobel that she looked especially fine in her riding habit.
As the duchess answered questions about the coming amusement, Rose glanced longingly at the door. Could she make her excuses and slip away? If only—
“Politeness dictates that you must stay at least another ten minutes.”
The deep voice set her pulse thundering. Sin was standing far closer than she expected, and she had to tilt her head back to see his expression.
His smile reminded her of a cat with cream. “At least ten minutes.”
“And then I shall retire alone.”
“Of course.” He shrugged. “Who suggested otherwise?”
Oddly, disappointment flickered through her. “You suggested it earlier, when you said—” Her gaze narrowed as his eyes lit with amusement.
“I told you I was going to seduce you, but I didn’t say when. I suggest that you relax until then, and simply enjoy the amusements offered by my aunt.”
MacDougal appeared to retrieve her empty glass—when had she finished it?—and she captured a full one from his tray.
“Careful,” Sin said. “Aunt Margaret’s sherry has more of a punch than most.” He stood so close that when she lifted her glass to take a sip, her elbow grazed his chest. She stepped to one side.
He followed.
“What are you doing?”
“Why? Does it make you nervous?” His wicked smile let her know that he was perfectly aware of his effect on her.
Two can play at that game. She very casually leaned forward. “Why do you ask, my lord?” Her breasts brushed his waistcoat.
His smile disappeared.
She peered up at him through her lashes, exhilarated. “Is something wrong? Am I standing too close?”
His gaze darkened. “I’d be careful if I were you, Miss Balfour.”
“Why? Are you afraid I might lead you astray? Oh, wait. You are supposed to lead me astray. How could I have forgotten?”
He reluctantly smiled. “The last time we were this close, I ended up with a sore chin and shoulder. You seem to bring bad luck with you, Miss Balfour.”
The genuine humor in his deep voice dissolved her desire to best him. She’d been prepared for anger, irritation, anything but that devastating lopsided grin.
She never knew what to expect from this man! He was a mystery, one that begged for more exploration. But that’s a very dangerous way to think of him.
She said lightly, “I’m glad you’ve recovered from your meeting with the library floor.”
He gingerly moved his arm. “I believe ‘recovering’ is more apt, but thank you.” He lifted a brow. “How was dinner? Your end of the table seemed quite lively.”
“Yes, your aunt kept us amused with tales about her younger days at court. Meanwhile, the conversation on your end of the table appeared somewhat sleep inducing.”
“Sadly, Miss Fraser found the food a bit bland in the opening course and proceeded to sleep through the rest of our meal. At one point I worried she might fall into the turtle soup.”
“She seems to sleep a lot,” Rose said with a chuckle.
His gaze flickered to her forehead. “You didn’t bruise as much as I expected.”
“I rarely do. I’m quite hardy.” She looked about the room. “Unlike most of the other guests.”
“Yes, it’s a somewhat creaky party. I fear that if you came to Floors Castle expecting gaiety, you’re to be sorely disappointed.” His eyes gleamed. “Fortunately, we have our challenge to keep us busy. We can—”
“What fun!” Lady Charlotte’s soft voice broke into their tête-à-tête. “I do love a good challenge!”
Rose and Sin turned to find Lady Charlotte at Sin’s elbow. She looked expectantly between them. “Pray tell, who has challenged whom, and what are the stakes?”
Sin’s smile was gone. “It’s nothing.”
Rose feigned surprise. “Lord Sinclair, surely you’re not reneging already?”
His gaze narrowed. “I never renege.” He turned to Lady Charlotte and said in a stiff tone, “I merely challenged Miss Balfour to a ride—”
“Actually, he’s challenged me to quite a bit more than a mere ride,” Rose said, smiling sweetly. “We’re just now naming our stakes.”
Lady Charlotte looked pleased. She turned and called out, “Your grace, do come and hear! Lord Sinclair and Miss Balfour are engaged in a challenge of some sort and they have a wager!”
Instantly every eye turned their way as the duchess came to stand with Lady Charlotte. “Well?” the duchess said impatiently. “What’s this challenge?”
Sin made an impatient sound. “It’s nothing. A gallop during our ride tomorrow.”
“That’s all?”
“No,” Rose said promptly. “It’s a series of challenges. That’s the first one we’ve decided upon.”
The duchess looked pleased. “Excellent! That sounds quite amusing.”
“I’ll keep track of the wagers,” Lady Charlotte offered. “MacDougal! Pray fetch the writing desk from the library.”
“Put me down for twenty pounds on Miss Balfour,” Munro said.
Lord Cameron wasn’t far behind. “Pardon me, Miss Balfour, but I must support my own. Twenty on Sin.”
Soon the Misses Stewart had chimed in, both of them supporting Sin. Their father surprisingly put two pounds on Rose.
During the clamor, Sin leaned down to Rose. “What did you hope to gain by that little maneuver?”
“Chaperones.” She smiled sweetly. “Lots and lots of chaperones.”
“Deaf and nearsighted chaperones, who will not be of any use to you.” He shook his head. “Even if you had a thousand chaperones, I’d still find a way to you.�
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“And I’d still find my way free. You will not seduce me, Lord Sin. Ever.”
“We will see about that,” he said with a grin. She was never at a loss for words, nor was she afraid of showing her earthy side. Just a few moments ago, he’d surprised her regarding him as if she’d like to ravish him right there in the middle of the library. Her heated look had both amused and surprised him. She’d said she was a woman of experience, and only one who was very comfortable with herself would be so bold in such a public setting.
She wanted him as much as he wanted her, which made him wonder . . . why wasn’t she interested in his fortune and title? On the evening of their first disastrous encounter, Rose could have easily claimed that he’d ruined her and then demanded that he marry her to make things right. But she’d never suggested such a thing.
So it was true; Rose was different from most women he knew. But why was that?
“Miss Balfour, why did you accept my aunt’s invitation?”
“Because I was honored to have been invited to Floors Castle, of course. And how could I say no to my own godmother? She’s a very determined woman.”
“You have no idea how determined she can be. And meddlesome to boot.” His gaze flickered past her to where the duchess was standing by Charlotte, overseeing the listing of the wagers. “My aunt seems to think you are a good rider.”
Instantly, Rose’s eyes lit up. “When I’m at home, I ride every day.”
It was almost magical, the way her face changed when she was interested in something. Liveliness and excitement transformed her from mildly pretty to breathtakingly beautiful. It was as if her very spirit was visible in her eyes.
Sin found himself leaning forward, wishing to taste that warmth, which was ridiculous. He drew back. “You will be pleased with the mounts. Roxburghe’s stables are without compare, as my uncle personally selected the stock. Except, of course, for the fat, sluggish few that he keeps solely for my aunt’s friends.”
“I look forward to a morning gallop tomorrow,” Miss Balfour said. “It’s been a week since I rode.”
“You think to gallop with so many delicate bones perched on spiritless slugs? You dream, Miss Balfour.”
“I hadn’t thought of that. Then how do we meet our first wager?”
“We will ride off once we reach a good stretch of road.”
“Alone?”
“Afraid?” He’d said the word mockingly and instantly she stiffened.
“Never.”
So Miss Balfour had some pride when it came to being challenged, did she? If that was so, his life had just become infinitely easier. He watched her as he said, “If you fear being alone with me, then you can just hide here within the castle walls, and never leave my aunt’s side. It would be a cowardly way to live, but—” He shrugged.
“I’m not a coward, Lord Sinclair, I am more than ready to—”
Mr. Munro was suddenly with them. “Already teasing your opponent, eh?” He beamed at Rose. “I put my money on you, for her grace vows you’re a top-notch rider.” He flicked a glance Sin’s way. “No offense to you, of course.”
“None taken.”
Munro bowed. “Thank you. I’m not much of a horseman myself, although I plan to ride tomorrow.” Munro eyed Rose as if she were his dessert. “I wonder what other amusements her grace has planned?”
Sin said, “There’s no telling what my aunt has in store. I daresay there will be dinner every night at the unfashionable hour of eight, whist at the shockingly late hour of nine and perhaps ten if the company gets carried away, with the unalleviated gaiety dispersed by many, many naps.”
Rose replied with admirable gravity, “It’s fortunate that I enjoy a good nap, myself. In fact, I wish I’d had one today after traveling here.”
Sin had a sudden image of her rising from a late-afternoon nap, her eyes heavy with sleep as she stretched, her lithe form clad only in a chemise.
He found his gaze on the neckline of her gown. A faint hint of lace showed above the material. So, you have a softer side. I wonder if I—
“My dear boy!” Aunt Margaret hurried up. “Charlotte needs your help in assigning mounts to our guests. Normally Roxburghe would deal with that, but he’s not here.”
Apparently his chance to speak with Rose had passed. Forcing his disappointment away, he bowed to his aunt. “Of course. I will be there in a moment as soon as I finish speaking to—” He realized that Rose had moved away and was now talking to Mr. Stewart, much to that ancient codger’s delight, while Munro hovered behind her.
Aunt Margaret looked on with approval. “Ah, yes, Munro. I wish I could take credit for that, but I must say I didn’t invite him with any such intention. But now that he’s showing such interest, I must say it wouldn’t be a bad match for the gel.”
“Munro and Rose? Surely you jest.”
“Why not? He’s quite wealthy and has a large stable, which she would enjoy. And she’s still young enough to give him an heir. It would be a very good match for them both.”
“He’s two score years older than her.”
“I’ve seen happy unions with more years between them.”
“And I’ve seen unhappy ones with fewer.”
“So the number of years must not matter,” she returned. “Besides, I cannot see how you, who’ve never been married, can profess to know what makes a good match. I, on the other hand, am an expert.”
“I can promise you that Rose Balfour is not interested in Mr. Munro. He’s far too tame for a woman like that.”
“Ah.” Aunt Margaret smiled serenely as she turned to watch Mr. Munro practice his heavy-handed wiles on Rose. “I predict that Miss Balfour won’t escape Floors Castle without an offer.”
Sin frowned.
“Mr. Munro seems quite taken already, and they’ve just met. And then there’s Lord Cameron—”
“No.”
She gave him a surprised look. “What do you mean ‘no’?”
“They’re both too old for her. Besides, Cameron was sneering at her before dinner.”
“That’s because he mistakenly thought her father a gardener. I have since explained things. Either man would make a good match for Miss Balfour.”
“Blast it, you said you wouldn’t matchmake.”
“I said I wouldn’t matchmake for you. Miss Balfour, however, is obviously in clear need of my help. She has no dowry to speak of, no inheritance waiting, and while she’s fair enough and is from good stock, she doesn’t possess the beauty necessary to make the first two conditions unimportant. Still, she might be just what Munro and Cameron are looking for.”
“Neither of them is looking to settle down.”
“Nonsense. They both want a gel of good birth and who possesses passing good looks, who is young, healthy, and virginal—” Margaret sent him a surprised look. “I’m sorry, did you say something?”
“I just coughed. Pardon me. Since you seem to know what benefits your gentlemen friends would receive from a connection with Miss Balfour, what would she get out of such a mismatch?”
“Financial standing, a social position beyond what she has now, and a husband to dote upon her every wish. What more could she ask for?”
“Maybe youth. Vigor. Teeth.”
“Lord Cameron has his own teeth.” Margaret narrowed her eyes at the other candidate. “I’m not so certain about Munro. They seemed somewhat clacky at dinner, so I’m suspicious. Still, he’s hardly stopped staring at her all evening. Just look at him now.”
Sin followed Aunt Margaret’s gaze to where Munro was talking eagerly to Rose. The thought of Munro’s liver-spotted hands on Rose’s sun-kissed skin made Sin’s stomach tighten.
Aunt Margaret smiled benignly. “They would make a handsome couple, wouldn’t they?”
“Good God. It would be like seeing a caterpillar chomping on a young, tender leaf.”
“Sin!” Margaret said with exasperation. “What’s gotten you into such a mood?”
“I’m not i
n a mood.”
Aunt Margaret snorted. Just then the Misses Stewart joined Rose and Munro, breaking up their unsettling tête-à-tête. Good. Munro wouldn’t get a word in edgewise now.
Still, Sin couldn’t help but glower as he headed toward Lady Charlotte. His plans for Miss Balfour were not progressing as they should, and now she’d managed to add a layer of protection in the form of antiquated chaperones. Not one damn thing had gone right.
He firmed his jaw. Perhaps he’d been unrealistic in expecting to easily seduce Rose. Something needed to change. Because one way or another, he was going to get Rose Balfour alone tomorrow, and when he did, woe betide her.
Feeling more hopeful, he sat with Lady Charlotte and gave her his full attention. Tomorrow would come soon enough.
Six
From the Diary of the Duchess of Roxburghe
I believe I’ve discovered the source of Sin’s taste for disreputable women. If one does not ask for much, one won’t be disappointed at not receiving much. I now hope more than ever that Miss Balfour will manage to reach my great-nephew on some new level and, in the process, disabuse him of some of his misconceptions about women.
Meanwhile, I asked MacLure, one of our best grooms and a former major in the army, to chaperone Miss Balfour, as I believe Sin will attempt to get her alone.
Men are, if nothing else, predictable. Fortunately for us all, women are not.
The day broke gray and overcast. Rose awoke at dawn from a fitful slumber, her dreams filled with heated kisses from a man with sherry-colored eyes and a smug smile. Not wanting to wake the servants, she rose, pulled on her robe, added wood to the fire, and settled in with a good book.
She usually enjoyed a nice, quiet morning read, but her mind kept drifting to Sin. Unable to focus, she set the book aside and went to stand at one of the large windows overlooking the front lawn.
She was still astounded by her reaction to him. This time, when he’d kissed her and those incredible sensations had flooded over her, she hadn’t panicked, but had enjoyed them. Immensely. But . . . was that really better?
Rose, Rose, what are you doing? She sighed and leaned her head against the window frame, watching as a puff of wind rippled across the lawn. The scent of dampness came with the wind and she shivered and pulled away just as a soft knock sounded on her door.
How to Capture a Countess (Duchess Diaries 1) Page 9
