Temptation's Darling
Page 9
She tsked with a slight roll of her eyes. “Not so much the gentleman, are you?”
He grinned. “A rake through and through.”
“Really?”
“A discreet one, yes—except when I’m warding off scandals.”
She laughed. “What a contradictory remark! Did you say that backward by mistake?”
“What I said shouldn’t have been said, so do forget it and eat your lunch.” And then he bellowed, “Charley, we’re about to leave, and you’ve yet to eat!”
“Shh,” she hissed. “One of the brothers is sleeping atop your coach.”
He glanced up at it. “He’ll fall off when we leave.”
“No, he’s rooted himself.”
“Who are they to you really?”
“As I said, blood relatives. I’d never met them before this trip. My father hired them to guard me.”
“And your father is?”
“My father.”
He laughed at the evasion. Did he really think he could get names out of her that easily?
Chapter Twelve
“I PROMISE YOU, YOU WON’T starve. But no one expects a lady to have a hearty appetite, darlings. So you are going to practice merely picking at the food on your plates and leaving most of it untouched.”
Kathleen Blackburn glanced from one to the other of her beautiful twin daughters sitting on either side of her at the dining table. With their perfect blond hair, light blue eyes, and identical delicate features, they were going to make superb matches this year, she had no doubt of it. She was so proud of them. They were ready for their Season, they just needed a few reminders about the small things that could enhance or detract from a successful debut.
“This food isn’t going to go to waste, is it, when I’m so hungry?” Emily complained, but at least in low tones. She knew better than to raise her voice. “You could have warned us ahead of time that we were to have a lesson in starving.”
Emily could be as willful as her older sister, Vanessa, but her twin, Layla, was completely malleable, always eager to please. Emily might start the fight, since she was the more aggressive of the two, but Layla was the peacemaker, able to defuse it. They complemented each other so well, her adorable twins.
But to Emily’s complaint she replied, “Normally you can eat something beforehand so you aren’t hungry when a lavish meal is served, which is what I was taught to do, and if that doesn’t suffice, you can eat more afterward when you are alone. Tonight we practice restraint in case you don’t arrive at your hostess’s table replete.”
“Or we just make sure that never happens?” Emily said.
“What if you’ve been invited to someone’s house for a weekend party? You can’t very well get underfoot in their kitchen, can you?”
“I would,” Emily said assuredly.
“I wouldn’t,” Layla promised.
Kathleen stared at Emily long enough for the girl to amend her answer a little petulantly. “At least I’d send our maid to the kitchen.”
“Much better and allowed,” Kathleen said. “Now practice restraint. I’ll have plates sent up to your room in a few hours.”
But after a few minutes of merely moving food around on their plates without eating, Emily’s stomach growled noisily, making her laugh. “I think that would be more embarrassing than eating most of the food on my plate, wouldn’t you agree, Mother?”
Kathleen sighed. “By all means, if you are that hungry, eat enough to avoid making that embarrassing noise, but keep in mind, there is always dessert. I hope you haven’t forgotten any other lessons I taught you.”
Layla grinned, Emily giggled, before they said nearly in unison, “Not one.”
Kathleen rolled her eyes. “Do refrain from exasperating your mother and simply prove how perfect you both—”
Loud noises were suddenly coming from the central hallway. She stood up without finishing her sentence and moved to the doorway. Just as curious, the girls crowded behind her in time to see a second large trunk being set down in the foyer. The butler was there, still holding the front door open for two of their own footmen who were coming in with a third trunk.
Kathleen approached the butler. “Did our expected guests arrive early?”
“No, mum, just these trunks.”
“Ask the driver who they belong to.”
“To Lady Vanessa.”
The twins squealed in delight at hearing their sister’s name, but Kathleen was shocked rather than thrilled. If Vanessa was going to come home, why the deuce couldn’t she have done so last spring, when Kathleen had expected her to return to make her debut? She’d assumed as much. William had promised he would send their eldest daughter back when he’d let her know that Vanessa was with him, he just hadn’t specified when. And he had never written to her again. He wrote to the twins, though, but those letters were filled with nonsense about plantation life, when he wasn’t on a plantation at all!
That had just been his suggestion for what she could tell their friends and acquaintances about where he and Vanessa had gone. To this day she still didn’t know where her husband and her eldest daughter were. Nor did Peter Wright, William’s longtime friend. Only William’s solicitor knew. All correspondence between William and the twins went through him. But that exasperating man had refused to speak to her when she’d gone to London and tried to get the address from him.
The twins were so excited about Vanessa’s imminent arrival that they began opening the trunks and rummaging through them. But after a few minutes, Emily looked up, nearly in tears. “There’s nothing of Papa’s in them.”
Of course there wasn’t, Kathleen thought. But she was hopeful he would be coming home soon, now that Vanessa was apparently on her way.
“Did you know Nessa was coming?” Layla asked quietly.
“Yes,” Kathleen lied. “I had a letter from your father earlier in the year. I was leaving it to be a surprise. But your father still hasn’t finished his business in the West Indies, so we must all be patient a little longer in awaiting his return.”
Sending men to search for William had proven to be a frustrating waste of time and money, and yet even this year, she’d sent more out to do so. But she did get an unexpected boon several years back, rife with stipulations, but still a possible way of putting her family back together again.
If everything worked out as she hoped it would, William would finally be able to come home to England. Even if he would never return to her, at least she would have assisted in bringing him back to his homeland and all his daughters, not just Vanessa. If Vanessa knew how to find her father, if she would ever volunteer that information, if she had turned out more like Layla than Emily and could be managed, and didn’t indulge in theatrics, if, if, if! Kathleen hated uncertainty, hated when her domain wasn’t exactly as it should be. All because of a harmless flirtation that had gone terribly wrong.
It was a shame Henry Rathban had died because of it. None of this would have happened if not for that duel. And she hadn’t just lost her husband and eldest daughter because of that duel, she’d had to give up her social life in London, which she loved so much! Even though no one knew of Henry’s blackmail and the ensuing duel because Albert Rathban had let it be known that his brother died in an accident, Kathleen had stopped going to London. Constantly being asked when William would return and having to make up so many lies to explain why he was still away had become intolerable.
The twins were directing the servants to take the trunks to Vanessa’s old room and excitedly talking about Vanessa’s being home in time to have her Season with them. But Kathleen was worried it might be too late—a year too late.
She hurried to her study. She had to write a letter to find out if the bargain she’d agreed to was still on the table.
Chapter Thirteen
AFTER ONE NIGHT OF sleeping in the blanket Donnan had tossed her, with the MacCabe brothers on either side of her and one of them snoring most of the night, Vanessa was wishing she could sleep in
a bed again. She found out that Charley was, too, when he pulled her aside to join him for a walk, which seemed to have become part of his daily routine. She was surprised to see him wearing the luxurious fur cloak she’d seen him in the day she’d met him and Monty.
“Arlo isn’t usually such a worrier,” Charley said, “but he actually agrees with Monty that I should try to blend in better, and he was quite emphatic about it yesterday. Do you think you could teach me how to be a commoner?”
“Does insulting people come naturally to you?” she rejoined.
“No, I didn’t mean to imply you are a commoner when it’s obvious from your clothes that you come from money and possibly rank. And I make this request for two reasons. I want to improve my ability to disguise myself not only for security purposes but so we can go back to sleeping at inns. I can’t bear the indignity and discomfort of sleeping in the coach! I just thought you might have had more dealings with the common man than I have had, and you could impart some needed advice.” Then in a whisper, “Monty wants me to play a role I have no knowledge of.”
She realized the boy must like the older man if he trusted his advice and wanted to please him by “being an actor in training,” as she’d overheard Monty counsel him, so she relented to say, “Just as you made assumptions about my background from the clothes I wear, people do the same to you, Charley. But it’s also your expression. You seem to have the habit of looking down a very long nose at others. And why are you wearing that fur cloak again? What happened to the brown woolen one with the hood that Arlo bought you the other day?”
Charley sniffed disdainfully. “I find wool too scratchy for my delicate skin. Besides, I needed fur to stay warm when I was sleeping in the coach.”
Vanessa pointed out, “But if people see you wearing a cloak that fancy, they will think you’re wealthy, a nobleman, maybe even a royal.”
She added the last to see if he would try to convince her that he was a king, just as she’d overheard him doing with Monty. And he did smile as if she had guessed right, but then he frowned, apparently having remembered that he wasn’t supposed to announce any grand credentials.
So she continued. “As for the rest of your person, you really ought to cover up your beautiful hair, or at least tie it back—better yet, cut it.” He looked so shocked she amended, “Or you could borrow a cap from Arlo if you don’t want to wear a hood, as well as some of Arlo’s less grand attire.”
“He’s taller than I, if you didn’t notice,” he replied.
“Wearing clothes that don’t fit you properly would actually be a good touch because people will think you can’t afford better. But if you’d rather not, at least get rid of the cravat and the fancy cloak, maybe scuff up your shoes, and take off the jacket if weather permits.”
“So the less I wear the better?”
She grinned. “I think what Monty is really concerned about is your air of superiority, but yes, clothes still do make the man as you pointed out. Perhaps if you change your clothes and your snobbish attitude we can both broach the subject with your guardian and he’ll agree we’ve removed the risks involved in stopping at inns. You may need to promise not to say a word when strangers are near, but your new appearance will prove you’ve taken to heart his warning about not drawing attention to yourself.”
Monty agreed rather quickly to using inns again, making her wonder if he wasn’t just as pampered and used to comforts as his ward. But the group got into the routine of traveling hard during the day and sleeping comfortably at night with Vanessa staying in a room next to the one her guards occupied. And finally, with complete privacy, she was able to bathe again!
She figured she still had two or three days left with her amusing, although mysterious, traveling companions, unless Arlo turned off the main road before she needed to. She asked Arlo where they were going, since he had the map marked with the location, but he turned terse and merely mumbled something about secrecy. She asked Monty, too, but he countered by asking where she was going, which made her laugh because they were both still keeping secrets and making no bones about it. So she decided to just enjoy what little time she had left with them and possibly test her feminine wiles, if she got a chance, while traveling with such a handsome man.
Monty hadn’t taken advantage of the knowledge that she was female other than to behave a little more courteously to her. Charley hadn’t remarked on it at all, might not even have noticed, he was so self-absorbed. But with the weather warming up she’d started taking off her hooded cloak when they stopped for lunch. One day she even stretched a little after tossing the cloak on the picnic blanket, aware that she was drawing attention to her figure and Monty was watching her.
But gazing at the long meadow beside the road that looked like so many others they’d passed, she realized she wasn’t sure where they were because she hadn’t paid attention to which town they’d entered yesterday at dusk to spend the night in. Monty probably knew. The MacCabe brothers, who were having their lunch across the road, must know, because Donnan had told her he’d gotten directions to the town of Dawton from an innkeeper. But she was feeling a little playful, enjoying her last few days of freedom, so she didn’t bother to ask. She came up with a more amusing way of figuring out if a town or natural landmark she might recognize lay ahead.
“I don’t know where we are, but I bet I can spot the next town from that tree,” she said.
Monty looked in the direction of the tall black poplar she was pointing to. It wasn’t as thickly leafed as the oak nearby, so it would afford her a better view from up high. She started to run toward it before Monty could tell her exactly where they were, which would deprive her of an excuse to get a little exercise—and tempt him to follow.
She heard him yell for her to wait, but she didn’t. Her plan was working. She knew he was running after her because she clearly heard him right behind her. “You’re not climbing that tree, Nessi. If you really want to know what lies ahead, I’ll climb it for you.”
“Want to bet!” she yelled back with a laugh.
She was almost there, too, racing hard, trying to stay in front of him, but also imagining him pulling her off the tree and right into his arms . . .
She tripped on an old fallen branch hidden in the grass, gasping as she fell, but then she started laughing at herself for too much imagining and not enough paying attention—until she felt Monty fall nearly on top of her. He’d been so close he’d ended up tripping over her, which just made her start laughing again, especially when she heard him laughing, too, over their clumsiness. She leaned up on her elbows and was startled when her back rubbed against his chest.
She turned over to face him and saw just how close he was to her, his green eyes looking down into hers. He had a knee over her legs, a hand braced on one side of her, an elbow braced on the other, leaving his chest half-pressed to hers. They both stopped laughing when they suddenly became all too aware of each other.
Vanessa saw the hot flicker of desire in Monty’s eyes before his mouth covered hers and he kissed her passionately as if it were long overdue, and maybe it was. She couldn’t deny she’d thought about kissing him more than once. She’d thought about his arms around her, feeling his body pressed to hers. Not something a woman of her station should be thinking, and yet she didn’t doubt any proper lady would do the same thing when she crossed paths with a man like Monty. Attraction like this was just too strong to resist and led to all sorts of improper thoughts and feelings. . . .
She ran her fingers through his auburn hair, releasing his queue. He slipped his arm under her neck to brace her head when he lowered his chest fully to hers. The closeness was exquisite, stirring all sorts of urgent new feelings in her. And the kiss got even more exciting when he explored with his tongue, sucked on hers when she tried to do the same. A moan escaped her. She luxuriated in the amazing sensations that overwhelmed her as she lay on the grass in the sunshine and this handsome man kissed her so exquisitely. He seemed as strongly attracted to her as
she was to him. This was all too thrilling, her first taste of passion, him, touching him, a whirl of sensations inside her making her weak and yet wanting more . . . What the devil was she doing?!
“Stealing the moment. Don’t worry, your Scots haven’t noticed.”
He said that as his lips moved hotly to her neck. Had she spoken aloud? She didn’t really care, groaning again as delicious shivers spread out from where his lips touched her skin. She didn’t want to stop what she was doing! But someone would see them if they tarried any longer, and embarrassment at being so daring was starting to sneak up on her.
She put a hand to his cheek to guide his mouth off her. She didn’t want to scold him when she’d instigated that kiss as much as he had, so with a grin she said, “You’ve been too bold, sir.”
“You’ve been too fetching, wench. D’you think I haven’t noticed how well you fill out those britches?”
She chuckled, because she could say the same about him! But she pushed lightly against his chest to indicate she wanted to get up. She heard his sigh as she got to her feet. Not wanting this magical moment to end on a note of contrition or embarrassment for either of them, she glanced down at him still spread out on the grass and said, “I’ll race you.” And she started running before he got up. “I think you know I’ll win.”
“Only if I let you win again!”
They were laughing again and laughed even harder when he easily passed her. Good grief, she felt so giddy!
Charley, with his long golden hair queued back and wearing ill-fitting trousers and a homespun shirt he’d borrowed from Arlo, was already eating when Vanessa and Monty joined him. He merely remarked, “I hadn’t thought of running for exercise, never have, actually. Doesn’t it make you sweat?”
“Would a commoner object to a little sweat?” Monty countered.
“Right you are.”
Although Vanessa was a little embarrassed that she’d let Monty kiss her—and that she’d kissed him back so fervently—Monty didn’t gloat over what had happened. His behavior toward her didn’t change as they continued on their journey that week, although she caught him looking at her rather intently whenever they stopped for lunch or were eating together at an inn.