Beastly Lords Collection

by Baily, Sydney Jane

  He groaned. “If you do that, I am bound to want to kiss you.”

  “Oh.” She sucked her lower lip into her mouth and sunk her teeth into it to keep from saying anything more.

  “And if you play with your lip like that, I’m going to want to do the same.”

  Sighing, she asked, “What can I do that doesn’t inflame your passions?”

  “Nothing,” he said, then lowered his head until his mouth hovered close to hers. “I am constantly inflamed when near you.”

  Then he kissed her.

  She didn’t protest, far too used to his kisses by now to be affronted and too fond of them to want to stop him. It occurred to her this was precisely the type of situation a debutante would find herself in at a London ball. If only they’d had such an innocent breach of decorum instead of what actually had occurred in the infernal gazebo.

  She let him slip his tongue between her lips because she liked it. As much as she hated him for what he’d done in the past, he didn’t repulse her. The man she was coming to know, with all his flaws, also seemed to be kind and thoughtful. Moreover, her body craved his touch.

  As his hands slipped to her waist and drew her close, trapping her between his body and the wall, she felt the familiar sizzle of desire streak through her. At the same time, she reminded herself his kind and thoughtful acts were all calculated to gain access to her person.

  With her head pressed against the wall, held there by his firm lips, she couldn’t pull away, couldn’t do more than enjoy the kiss. And then he moaned into her mouth, and she felt a twinge of excitement, low in her stomach between her hips.

  At last, he drew back.

  “Kissing you is like finding a ray of sunshine on a particularly cloudy day.”

  She laughed, and then put her hand to her mouth at his chagrinned expression.

  “I’m sorry, Lord Alder. You don’t seem like the type of man to express yourself in poetic reverie. Not unless it is a practiced line and designed to gain you some advantage.”

  “You’ve wounded me,” he said. “You are correct in the former. I am not given to flights of poetry. But I didn’t practice it, nor do I see any advantage to having you crush my attempt at paying you a sincere compliment.”

  “Crushed, are you?” She considered. “Your kiss was pleasant and your compliment, if sincere, was very kind. I have never been called a ray of sunshine before.”

  He smiled. “With your crowning fair-haired glory, I find that hard to believe. Since you called my kiss pleasant, and I was aiming for earthshaking, I shall have to kiss you again. I believe we have at least seven more minutes.”

  Before she could think of a rebuttal, he lowered his mouth to hers again. This kiss was designed to impress and overwhelm her. After he ravaged her mouth and stole her breath, leaving her sucking in air, he kissed his way along the line of her chin and down her neck.

  She loved the feel of his mouth on the skin at her throat. To her amazement, he nipped at it, then immediately licked the same spot, causing a shiver to race down her spine. Pushing aside her lacey fichu with nimble fingers, he rained kisses across the top of her breasts until she would have gladly pulled her satin bodice down to give him better access if she didn’t have to appear in perfect order for lunch. His hands roamed over her body, settling on the curve of her bottom through her skirts, pulling her against him so she could feel his arousal.

  It matched her own!

  If they weren’t in his parents’ upper hallway, if her son weren’t somewhere nearby, she would give in to his seduction and look for the nearest bedroom.

  “I wish to God we had planned to spend the night,” he said, practically reading her thoughts.

  “Frankly, I’m shocked you didn’t plan it that way.”

  Breaking the moment of intense passion, he blinked at her, then started to laugh, leaning against the wall beside her.

  “I nearly did,” he admitted, his hands on his knees as he chuckled. “A tired horse, a cracked carriage wheel, easily arranged.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “Honestly?” He stopped laughing and looked at her. “Because I like you too much.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. A step closer to a declaration of love.

  “And I figured you wouldn’t be happy being away from home without your toiletries and Harry’s things.”

  “My toiletries?” she repeated.

  He straightened and took her hand. “All those mysterious things ladies need at night and in the mornings. Plus, your maid to do your hair.”

  “My hair?” She reached up to make sure it was still in good order.

  “Yes, so if I stranded you here in the country, with an angry nanny, an irritable little boy, and without your toiletries and maid, I don’t believe it would have done me any good.”

  Though she felt a little insulted at his idea she couldn’t survive without a few luxuries, she was also pleased.

  “You are surprisingly astute for a man and a bachelor.”

  “Thank you. Do you want to see the conservatory or would you like to get outside and see Gabriel and the dogs?”

  “Your brother and the dogs, please.”

  She was relieved when they went down a different staircase, and not past the likeness of Harry. Descending into a carpeted hallway, just before they turned a corner, Alder grabbed her to him and kissed her again, causing her to melt instantly and grasp his jacket with her trembling fingers.

  As he broke it off, she felt off-kilter, her lips seemed to be buzzing, and she nearly grabbed ahold of him again to steady herself.

  “Why did you do that?” Her voice sounded strangely light and breathy.

  “Because I may not get another chance all day, and certainly not in the crowded carriage on the way back to London. Thus, unless you invite me into your home tonight, I don’t know when I’ll have the opportunity to touch you again.”

  He made perfect sense, but she wasn’t sure how much of this pendulum of desire she could take, swinging from passionately kissing to speaking as friends.

  Taking them past the foyer, he led her downstairs to the kitchens. Harry was seated at a table, Dash at his feet, and they both seemed to be munching on something. Camille was speaking to Nanny Finn, but they all looked up as Michael and she entered.

  Ada felt as if their dalliance upstairs was written all over her face, for Camille narrowed her eyes and Nanny Finn looked away.

  Michael Alder seemed utterly unperturbed. Addressing Harry while petting Dash’s head, he asked, “Are you ready to go see some more dogs, young man?”

  “Yes!” Harry cried out, causing Dash to start barking.

  “Come along, everyone, let’s go find Gabriel.”

  As they moved toward the kitchen door, Ada felt a hand on her backside, giving her a gentle squeeze, and she nearly exclaimed aloud.

  Shooting her elbow out behind her, she made contact with Lord Vile’s midriff as hard as she could.

  “Oof,” came the satisfying sound in her ear.

  Ignoring him, she rushed ahead to walk with Harry.

  “Isn’t this merry?” she asked him.

  “Yes,” he said again.

  In another moment, her son saw the foxhounds and took off running. Then Camille dropped back and took her arm.

  “I’m very glad Michael brought you to visit with us. He’s never brought a lady friend here before,” she added significantly.

  Ada wondered how much Camille knew about her brother’s broken engagement.

  “We came so Harry could see where Dash was bred and trained,” Ada explained, hoping to downplay any expectations this young woman might have for a romantic ending to Michael and Ada’s relationship.

  “Be that as it may,” Camille said, “Michael has also never shown much of an interest in Gabriel’s dogs before, not enough to choose one to gift to someone in Town. He must like you and your son very much.”

  What could she say? She simply smiled.

  “I understand what you were
saying earlier in the foyer,” Camille added, “and I am positively not pinning all my hopes on the Season. I want to dance and meet new people. I am not ready for a husband, and I refuse to be forced into accepting one, either by my parents or by putting myself in an untenable situation.”

  “Good for you,” Ada said. “You sound as if you have a good head on your shoulders, which is what it takes to maneuver in society.”

  “You did well, it seems.”

  Ada nearly choked. “Alas, I did not.” She almost bit her tongue for having blurted that truth.

  “How can you say that?” Camille wondered. “You married and have a sweet son. And don’t you own your townhouse in London?”

  “Yes, you’re absolutely right. I did well. However, I didn’t find my husband in a London ballroom.” She’d better stop talking before she said too much or had to lie too deeply. Glancing behind her, she saw Michael closing the stopper on his ever-present flask. He must have just had a drink.

  She added, “You will enjoy some lovely dances and make new friends as long as you don’t spend your time looking for a man.”

  “Thank you for the advice,” Camille sounded genuine. “There’s Gabriel now.”

  Harry had already rushed forward to meet the young man surrounded by foxhounds. Dash had also run into the middle of the dogs, apparently recognizing his old pack. Her little boy was laughing in delight as the hounds pranced around him.

  “Hello, everyone,” Gabriel greeted them, reaching a hand out to his brother and then nodding to Ada.

  The exact same beautiful golden eyes as Michael and Harry! It was truly a wonder no one had noticed.

  After a few moments, Gabriel pointed out the other dogs running in the field behind him. “These hounds aren’t really Dash’s pack. Those two are.”

  “Rufus! Myrtle!” he called, and a red setter and a retriever bounded toward the group. Dash took off at a run toward them and soon was rolled on his back by the bigger dogs, his legs kicking happily in the air.

  Ada smiled at how different Dash’s pack looked from him. Weren’t dogs wonderful? They didn’t have to be born into a family, they simply accepted the one they were given. And now Dash had accepted them as his family in London. Another blessing in her life.

  Then an older man stepped out from inside the barn, and Ada felt her world spin. She knew him. She’d sat next to him at a function at the Royal Society for the Encouragement of Arts, Manufactures, and Commerce, squeezed between him and her father. They’d talked over her all night, before a lecture and after. He’d remarked on her interest in commerce and trading.

  Walking toward them, the Earl of Alder greeted his sons and his daughter. Then he turned to her and the light of recognition lit in his eyes.

  “Why, I know you, don’t I? You’re Baron Ellis’s daughter.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Regaining her composure, Ada smiled at him. He was an older version of Michael in every physical regard with a sprinkling of gray about his temples.

  “Yes, I am.”

  Quickly, she considered any possible ramifications to this unexpected disclosure. Michael never knew her surname when they met during the Season. What did it matter if he knew who her father was? Or that she liked lectures? Neither of these facts could endanger her plans.

  “How are your parents?” the earl asked.

  “They are both well, my lord. I expect them in London within a month.”

  “Your father wouldn’t miss the new lectures at the RSA, would he?”

  “No, my lord.”

  “And what about you?” the earl asked. “Will you be there?”

  All the while, she could see Michael regarding her with intense curiosity. Drat!

  “I’m not sure.”

  “It’s been a few years, hasn’t it? But here you are. What a coincidence? So, you’re my son’s lady friend?”

  She felt her cheeks warm. It was a nice way her family had of addressing her. How much better than if they said what they were thinking: Michael’s lover.

  “Yes. He’s been extremely kind to me and my son.”

  “Oh, right. You’re widowed, I heard. My condolences. And here’s the little chap.”

  Harry was currently rolling on the grass with the dogs as if he were one of them.

  “Ha!” the earl said, with a laugh. “Just as Gabriel used to do. Looks like him, too.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. Luckily, Harry’s eyes were closed as he belly-laughed with Dash and the others scurrying around and over him. Moreover, she was certain he would eat either in the nursery or in the kitchen, and not under the scrutiny of his grandparents.

  “Are you keeping up with your interest in the stock exchange?”

  The earl’s words came like lightning from the sky, unexpected and dangerous.

  There was only one thing she could do. Lie.

  “I’m not sure I know what you mean, my lord. How could I understand anything so… complicated and forbidden?”

  He nodded. “True, true,” he said jovially. “We must make allowances for the weaker sex. Yet I thought you followed the market.”

  Shrugging noncommittally, she observed, “Seeing how women cannot go on the floor of the exchange, my lord, I am restrained from following the market.”

  That sounded plausible, she thought, offering him a tight smile. If he mentioned her reading the financial papers, though, she might give up the ruse.

  “True enough,” he said amiably. “Still, I know you have a good head on your shoulders. Maybe my eldest son can tell you what he’s learned about buying and selling stocks lately. Quite a crack capitalist so far. He’s growing the fortune for the entire Alder estate. Isn’t that right, Michael?”

  She turned her gaze to the stock market “crack capitalist,” and he smiled blandly.

  “I know very little,” Michael admitted, “but I am happy to share my knowledge with Mrs. St. Ange should she be interested.”

  Having settled that matter, the earl went on about his business, polishing his hunting rifle or some such manly thing. The weaker sex, indeed! It was as if she were also the dumber sex, the more foolish sex, the incapable sex.

  What a load of gibberish! Why, she had managed to mother a child, make a fortune, buy her own home, and was now helping the ailing Alder family not to lose theirs. Until she took it all away from them.

  Oh! Standing in their midst, her plan to build up Michael’s fortune, which turned out to be bound up with his entire family’s, only to then destroy it, didn’t seem so justified. Not at that particular moment anyway.

  Camille took her arm again as they walked back to the house for lunch.

  Blast it! Ada admonished herself for ever having come to Oxonholt. She should certainly never have agreed to get to know these people.

  How could she take sweet Camille’s gown and ticket money?

  What if they lost their home and Gabriel had nowhere for his dogs?

  The lunch was tasteless, yet not in the way Mary’s cooking was unpalatable, but because each bite was spiced with guilt. This family had made her feel welcome, and while she kept in mind how his own father had forged a letter breaking Jenny’s engagement if not her heart, still, Ada’s grudge was not with them.

  If there was a way to exact her revenge on Michael without hurting his family, she would.

  “Why don’t you all spend the night?” his mother asked, as the last course was served. “Otherwise, you will have to get on the road before dark, or I will worry myself to death about highwaymen and such. If you stay, we’ll have some gay amusements tonight and, in the morning, we can walk down to the Saturday marketplace. It’s very jolly.”

  Camille clapped her hands, reminding her of Harry in her enthusiasm.

  “Oh, do say you will. I have many more questions about the Season. Mother can’t recall hers, and everything has changed since the Dark Ages anyway.”

  “Camille!”

  Ada hid her smile as Lady Alder muttered, “Dark Ages, indeed!”r />
  Before she could speak, however, it was Michael who came to the rescue. “There are no highwaymen between here and London, for God’s sake. No one’s heard of such a thing in decades. Besides, Mrs. St. Ange and her family are not prepared for an overnight stay.”

  “Nonsense,” the older woman rebuffed him. “We are civilized people. We have whatever anyone could need for spending a single night, including for the boy. And only think how he will enjoy the jugglers tomorrow.”

  “Jugglers, Mummy?” Michael raised an eyebrow.

  “Yes, at the market. Very amusing as if they have five arms. Moreover, we can all get to know your lady friend better.”

  Ada looked at Michael again.

  He seemed to be asking her whether to continue fighting or to give in.

  “After all,” Lady Alder added, addressing Ada directly, “your son is here and even your dog, everyone you care about really, so what matters if you wear the same gown tomorrow?”

  She gave an endearing smile, behind which was the determination and fortitude of a Roman gladiator.

  At this point, to turn her down would be terribly rude. Ada could only imagine since she was the first woman Michael had brought home, his mother wanted to study her, get to know her, probably ask about her finances, too, for that matter.

  So be it. She knew Harry would enjoy himself though Nanny Finn might be another matter. Hopefully the woman had all she needed in the bag she always carried.

  Glancing at Michael, Ada gave him a subtle nod.

  “Very well,” Michael told his mother. “You may have your way.”

  “Really!” Lady Alder admonished before smiling satisfactorily and sipping her wine. “Nothing to do with having my way. We shall all enjoy it, shan’t we?”

  Lord Alder seemed unperturbed in either case, but took his two sons off for a chat in his study after the meal.

  Ada let Camille and Lady Alder pepper her with questions about life in London, though she constantly reminded them she’d only been living there a few months and her last season had been three years prior. Even so, she had some knowledge of Almack’s having attended once, and Lady Grishom’s famed soirée, as well as the safest boating area on the Thames.