If Marcus could have raised his eyebrows any higher at that moment, Natalie felt certain he would have.
“That will be all, Marcus.” Lord Hawthorne dismissed the valet. “Lady Natalie will be returning to her own room very shortly.”
Marcus walked toward the door, surreptitiously throwing a speculative glance at Natalie. When he was near enough that he blocked the earl’s view of her, she raised one hand to her mouth and made a motion as though locking it with a key. As understanding dawned, Marcus smiled conspiratorially, and then he mimicked her motion.
Accomplices from an early age, she knew he’d not give her secret away. Handy thing, she mused, having a man’s valet for a friend.
Marcus closed the door behind Natalie leaving her and Lord Hawthorne—scandalously—alone.
Lord Hawthorne took a seat on one of the cushioned chairs and reclined with a suspicious glower. As he crossed one ankle over his other knee, his dressing gown fell open, revealing a glimpse of one very masculine calf and thigh. Natalie noticed there was less hair above his knee than below it. Would the curling hairs be soft to touch? Her fingers itched to find out.
“Is there something I can do for you, my lady?” He pronounced her title with sarcastic emphasis, as though to insinuate she was not acting like a lady.
“Um, oh, yes. I was concerned at how we parted.” She paused. “I rather thought we were coming to be friends…and I didn’t want to go to sleep thinking…Well, I didn’t want for you to go to sleep feeling angry with me.” She fidgeted with her fingernails. At the end of her poorly rehearsed speech, she peered at him from beneath her lashes. Good Lord, this man was absolutely delicious. However had she thought of him as not-quite-handsome before? With his freshly washed hair, dressed in silk, he made it difficult for her to think straight. She was lucky she’d gotten as many words out as she had.
Garrett stood. He’d behaved unmannerly to remain seated when she entered the room. He should feel guilty about that. Walking across the carpet, he gestured toward the velvet-covered armchair nearest her. “Won’t you sit?” He was not going to banish her immediately. He looked thoughtful. Perhaps he wanted to apologize as well.
Smoothing the front of her dressing gown, Natalie sat in the chair he’d indicated. “Thank you.” They might well have been in the drawing room with both doors thrown wide open for the formality with which they both spoke.
Garrett returned to his own chair, pulled it closer in front of hers, and sat.
Leaning forward, he draped one arm over a knee and an elbow on the other, resting his chin upon his closed fist. He regarded her with an intensity that made her want to squirm.
“You are right, you know,” he conceded softly. “In your opinion that I am lucky to be allowed a second chance.” His words surprised her. “I have spent the last decade doing nothing to garner regard amongst society. I have gambled, fought duels, spent time in brothels, and God forbid, made money in business. And when I did attend a ton event, I showed no regard for propriety, as you well know.”
In a rush, she interrupted his confession. “Why? Why did you do that?” She needed to know. It was as though, within him, there were two different men. For he had not taken advantage of her when given the opportunity earlier tonight.
He grimaced. “Does it matter?”
“It does,” she said.
Silence fell so heavy in that moment that the sounds of servants walking overhead suddenly were most apparent. Would he answer her? He looked so very vulnerable. She again felt pulled toward him, as she had in the dining room. But in this moment, she wanted to kneel before him and wrap her arms around his waist.
She sat very straight—feet and knees together—on the elegant high-backed chair.
She didn’t move. If she made any move or motion, she feared the intimacy of the moment would be broken and he would snarl something sarcastic.
“I don’t know.” His voice was low and sounded hoarse. He wasn’t looking at her, but at the carpet on the floor between them. He cleared his throat and then looked back at her defiantly. “That’s not what we were talking about, anyhow.”
She could tell he didn’t want to discuss his past. She supposed he thought he didn’t need her pity. He was a very proud man.
“I was saying that, upon reflection, I agree that I am lucky. Yes, I have a second chance to be accepted into society—to regain honor and respect for the Hawthorne earldom. And I believe I may do well to take full advantage of this.” He leaned forward again, his demeanor ominously serious. He spoke as though he needed to make her understand something very important. “You, my dear lady, are very, very lucky as well.”
When she tried to interrupt him, he went right on talking. “No, do not belittle all you have. I am not referring to this beautiful home and all the material wealth your family is able to bestow upon you. I am talking about your brothers and your parents.” He swallowed hard. “You have siblings who would kill anyone who dared ever hurt you, a father and mother who would do anything to ensure your happiness. They all love you deeply. Good God, they smile at you. I have even seen your father hug you! In public, no less.”
Garrett paused a moment. “I beg of you, do not dismiss this.” At that, he went silent. A lump had formed in his throat, and he resented it. He rather resented the emotions threatening to overcome him. He far preferred his normal cynical indifference. How had it become so corroded?
“Well, blast.” Lady Natalie looked as though she’d tasted something sour.
Garrett sat back, startled. He realized he oughtn’t to be startled by anything that came out of this chit’s mouth, but he was, nonetheless.
“I beg your pardon?”
“It’s just that the irony of the situation is, in truth, rather magnificent. You have what I want, and I have what you want. In order for either of us to obtain what we want, we must sacrifice some of what we already have.”
Garrett’s mind retraced her words a time or two before understanding what she meant. “Yes, you are somewhat right.”
“Why only somewhat?”
“Because you are not going to sacrifice what you have. You are going to honor your parents and forget this crazy notion of playing the ‘lady rake.’ ” Nonsensical, addlepated female! He did not admit, however that he had no intentions of sacrificing what he’d been doing in the past. He would simply be more discreet about it.
And discretion did not include having the daughter of his host in his bedchamber late at night with both of them in nothing but nightclothes.
Lady Natalie glared at him. “That’s a little condescending, wouldn’t you agree? How would you feel if I told you something like that? I am not a child, you know.”
He regarded her narrowed blue eyes and petulant bottom lip for a moment in silence.
Perhaps, what Lady Natalie needed was a taste of what she wanted. Perhaps that would result in her realizing the wisdom of being more amenable to her father’s plans.
Lord Ravensdale ought to appreciate the favor Garrett was going to do for him. He obviously had no idea how much of a powder keg his daughter was.
“What would you like, my lady? To pretend you are not the daughter of an earl?” The taunt caught her full attention. “Would you like”—he paused, enjoying the expressions racing across her perfect features—“another kiss?” He’d meant the offer to scare her, to shake her reckless courage. The acceleration of his own heartbeat surprised him.
Natalie’s gaze turned suspicious. She was so very expressive, he could almost read her mind. Oh, yes, she wanted another kiss. But was he asking, or was he mocking her?
“Are you offering?” She lifted her chin and challenged him.
“I am if it will get you out of my room. I’ll also have your word that it will put an end to all of this nonsense!” Would her promise be worth anything?
“Very well then,” she said quickly—too quickly.
He stared back for a moment and then shook his head, trying not to laugh. Good Lord, she was p
riceless!
“Don’t laugh at me!” she grumbled.
She sounded hurt. He didn’t want her to feel hurt. He would give her what she wanted—this one last time. And then he’d have her promise to leave him the hell alone.
“Come here then.” He patted his lap.
“You want me to sit on top of you? Shouldn’t we be standing?” She narrowed her eyes, finally exhibiting some prudent caution. Ah, she wasn’t so foolish after all.
But it had been a long day and he was tired. “If you want a kiss from a rake, then you must do as he demands.” He patted his lap again. “Come here.”
Appearing unusually shy, Natalie rose and inched over to stand in front of him. As she neared, floral perfume teased his senses. Not giving her the opportunity to change her mind, Garrett grabbed hold of her waist and pulled her down to sit across his knees. She dropped her hand onto his shoulder and then slid it around his neck.
The minute her soft bottom landed on his lap, Garrett realized he was making a colossal mistake. Every ounce of blood he possessed headed south, and his own physical response to her was making itself known. Oh, hell.
This was intimate. Far too intimate. The lushness of her body assaulted his senses. He could smell her shampoo, a hint of lavender and citrus. Her long hair flowed silky and sensual on his arms, some even finding his chest. And when her fingers tickled the skin of his neck, his muscles tensed.
Her face was inches from his. “What now?” she asked, all innocence. Her breath was minty. He knew his would smell of whiskey.
He had better make this good if he was going to scare her to such a degree that she stop playing with fire. He turned her face toward his.
He meant to scare her—to slow her down. But as his gaze dropped to her sweet, inviting lips, an unusual tenderness struck him, and his kiss wasn’t the onslaught he’d intended.
No, he tasted, gently nipping at the corner of her mouth before claiming it.
The second his lips touched hers, she came to life. Eager for more, in an attempt to be even closer, Natalie twisted her body toward him. As she did so, her hips pressed into his arousal. Garrett winced as he tried to not only control himself but her as well. Was this going to backfire on him? Most likely.
Her tongue danced freely with his, encouraging him to deepen their kiss. The uninhibited enthusiasm of her welcome aroused him in a way the most skilled courtesan could never match. And she responded as though she had been waiting for this moment her entire life.
Needs ignited, and Garrett began to forget himself. Momentarily succumbing to desire, his hand explored her waist, her abdomen, and then the undersides of her breasts. Their seeking mouths mingled mint and whiskey. She trembled, pulled her mouth away, and buried her face in his neck. He gave her a moment to catch her breath. She was gasping.
His own chest rose and fell quickly as well. He traced a path down the side of her neck to her shoulder. Garrett felt his self-control slipping away.
He need not have worried.
In another inspired effort to be closer to him, Natalie made to turn her body to straddle him. Lacking experience in these matters, however, she misjudged the width of the chair, and the point of her knee struck Garrett’s person in a most catastrophic location.
Her knee, like a piston, became the deadliest of weapons and slammed into his full arousal with unfortunate accuracy. The red haze of desire he’d been fighting vanished and was replaced with a white-hot flash of agony. Unthinking, Garrett shoved her off his lap onto the carpet and doubled over in excruciating pain.
“What is it? What is the matter?” she asked, crawling over to him. He put a hand out as though to stave her off. Breath hissed between his clenched teeth. His motion was enough to stop her from coming any closer.
“Dear God, what have I done?” she implored.
He took a few deep but labored breaths. “A moment please.”
He waited for the pain to recede before addressing his attacker again. But, once able to look back at her, his breath caught. Her lips were swollen from their kiss, and her hair fell disheveled around her face. On her knees, in nightclothes, she looked at him in deep concern. If Lady Natalie Spencer, dressed and pressed for a ball was beautiful, then this Natalie, sultry and awakened, was the most gorgeous woman he’d ever beheld.
Was he going mad?
“What happened?” she asked, sounding impatient. Exasperation replaced her concern.
“You kneed me.”
She looked at him in obvious confusion. “Well, I realize I am a bit…wanton, but I don’t need you. I like you though.” She tilted her head and smiled hesitantly.
He raised his brows at her. “Your knee, you struck me with it.” He would not spell this out for her. Good Lord, she had brothers; she must have some understanding as to the sensitivity of the male anatomy.
Awareness dawned. “Oh.”
He knew precisely what she was going to say next.
“Blast.” And the she added. “I’m, er, sorry?”
Garrett grunted. His most vulnerable parts still throbbing.
“Did I…damage you?” she asked.
“For now, yes, thank you very much.” He forced himself to stand and tied the belt around his waist more securely. Protecting himself from any sudden move she might make, he somehow managed to present his hand to her so she could stand as well. He didn’t think he could suffer any more of her surprises. “And it’s off to your own room now. I believe I have kept my part of our bargain. I’d appreciate it if you would keep yours.”
She stared at his outstretched hand in consternation and then allowed him to pull her to her feet. With his hand on her back, Garrett steered her toward the door. He did so cautiously, all the while prepared to defend himself from another “attack.” Mindful of her reputation, he peeked out to ascertain the corridor was empty and then pushed her into the hall. “Good night then.”
She placed her hand on the doorframe, effectively keeping him from closing the door. “You are not angry with me? Are you? Remember, that is why I came here in the first place.”
“I am not angry with you, but I will be if you do not leave quietly.”
She blinked once, then again, before leaning in and placing a quick kiss on his cheek. “Good night,” she whispered. With no further ado, she twirled around and disappeared into her own room.
Wincing, Garrett closed the door behind him and hobbled back to the chair to collapse—not before reaching for the bell pull to summon Marcus, though, for he was going to need some ice.
Chapter Eight
Not one to sleep in, Garrett arose at dawn and went downstairs in search of breakfast. Pleasantly surprised, he met a group of gentlemen guests preparing to embark upon a tour of Ravensdale’s estate. They would look over the earl’s irrigation system with Ravensdale as their guide. Apparently, this outing had been planned far in advance and was one of the primary reasons some of the gentlemen were in attendance. Eager to escape the house and Lady Natalie, Garrett joined them without hesitation.
Last night, he’d made one mistake after another. He’d be wise to avoid the troublesome minx for the remainder of his stay. If he could not succeed at that, then perhaps he would simply cut his holiday short and return to Maple Hall. But for today, he embraced the reprieve gratefully.
Busy stable workers assisted the gentlemen guests, lugging saddles out of the barn and tightening girths. Ravensdale’s estate extended for miles and the expedition would last all day. Garrett refused assistance and saddled Rumble himself.
Forcing himself to be patient, he waited atop his mount watching the kitchen help rush to the stable with packages of rations. Lady Ravensdale stood talking with her husband as his guests took their mounts. Garrett was not surprised to see the couple exchange a brief kiss before the earl bid her farewell. Other gentlemen present were the Duke of Monfort, the Baron of Riverton, the Earl of Blakely, Stone, Darlington—Ravensdale’s heir—and another son, Peter. In addition, several other gentlemen had line
d up with whom Garrett was not acquainted. As they headed out, Garrett urged his horse away from the manor and away from Lady Natalie.
Stone ambled his mount beside him as they headed across the back field. “I wondered where you’d gone off to after dinner. I’d rather thought the two of us would trek into the village for a few ales last night.”
“It was a long day,” Garrett answered. He could hardly explain to his friend that he’d been pawing at his sister. And then, not wishing to be rude, he added, “Did you go out alone then?”
“No, stayed back with the old men.” Stone laughed. “I wish to assure you again, when I invited you here, I’d no idea my mother had planned such a large house party.”
Garrett rode along for a moment without speaking. “No worries. Her guests are reasonable sorts, really. I haven’t found reason to cuff any of them yet,” he conceded, “and it’s always a pleasure to converse with your father.”
As though summoned by Garrett’s words, Lord Ravensdale cantered up behind them, bringing his horse abreast of the two younger men. He pulled on the reins, and they slowed to a walk. There was too much riding to accomplish that day to push their horses early on.
“Good morning, Hawthorne, pulled yourself from bed early, I see.” The older man glanced at Garrett. “I failed to mention the outing to you last night. You disappeared early.”
“Not for lack of good company, my lord,” Garrett answered.
“Well, I’m glad you have joined us today. My steward’s been doing a great deal to maximize the efficiency of our irrigation systems. Have you had a chance to inspect the channels around Maple Hall yet?” he asked.
Garrett shook his head. The condition of the fields left by his father was an embarrassment. “They’re in ruins. Aside from the fire, the estate has been so neglected, I have much rebuilding before I can begin improvements.” The men rode in silence for a few minutes. “The physical condition of the property is just part of the difficulties, however.”
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