by Liana Lefey
Leaving a dumbfounded Chadwick behind, she let Montgomery lead her away.
LOUNGING AGAINST THE mantelpiece, Henry reflected upon his good fortune. Obliging Sabrina’s urgent request to leave the ballroom immediately after their dance, he’d led her here, to Somerset’s library.
Somerset’s otherwise unoccupied library.
After visiting Aylesford, he’d made a decision. Sabrina interested him. She was by far the loveliest woman he’d ever seen, but it was more than that. Being near her made him feel…different. It made him feel as though something that had been asleep in him had awakened.
She had matured into a fascinating woman. Intelligent, outspoken, a bit impudent. He didn’t mind. Too many times he’d been introduced to women trained to meekly agree with every word that came from his mouth. Not Sabrina—or at least not with him.
She paced the room, picking up figurines and replacing them, poking about in the corners, looking at the books on the shelves—anything to avoid looking at him, it seemed.
He walked over to where she stood fiddling with the bric-a-brac. “It’s been ten minutes and you’ve not said a word.”
She fidgeted with the little porcelain shepherdess in her hands and glanced at him apprehensively. “I’m not a gifted storyteller like you,” she snapped.
“In order to tell a good story, one must have an interesting subject. I could tell a hundred stories about you, Pest,” he said, chuckling. He knew he ought not to goad her—but he just couldn’t seem to resist.
Her brows lowered. “Yes, well, I would appreciate it if you didn’t. And don’t call me that.”
“Oh, come now. You cannot possibly still think I mean it as an insult,” he said. Still, she did not soften. “Why are you so angry with me? I just rescued you from that buffoon out there, after all.”
“Rescued me?”
“Were you not happy to be rid of your escort?”
He knew he had her when she bit her lip guiltily.
“He doesn’t mean to be—”
“An oblivious ass?”
The corner of her mouth twitched. “I was going to say thoughtless.”
“Well, I don’t blame him for forgetting his manners.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” she said, glaring.
“Will you relax?” he laughed. “I meant to imply that the way you look tonight would make any man forget his good manners.”
Her cheeks pinkened. “Oh.” She looked down at the carpet, obviously flustered.
“Is it so very surprising that I might say such a thing?” he asked, taking a step closer. She was so beautiful in the candlelight.
“A bit,” she admitted warily. “I wouldn’t expect you to pay me any sort of compliment.”
“I forgave you for the snake and all the other nasty things you did to me long ago,” he said with a grin. “As long as you don’t put anything living in my pockets from this point forward…”
“That isn’t funny!”
“I beg to differ. It’s hilarious.”
She let out a frustrated huff and turned to leave.
Without thinking, he reached out to stop her. She stared up at him, her hazel eyes wide, her bottom lip trembling ever so slightly. On impulse he extended a finger and tipped her chin up.
“Why is it that whenever I’m with you, I can never say the right thing? Perhaps I ought to give up trying to say anything at all.”
He bent and claimed her mouth. She tasted just as sweet as he’d imagined, and he suddenly realized he’d wanted to do this ever since seeing her again tonight. Teasing and worrying her pouting bottom lip, he savored the plump fruit. The nape of her neck fit his hand perfectly. He threaded his fingers through her hair, dragging her closer. She felt so right in his arms.
Her response was quite unpracticed, and he knew without having to ask that she’d never been kissed before. Thus, her protest when he tried to withdraw came as a pleasant surprise.
His already aching erection hardened. Animal lust commanded him to claim her—at once—but good sense said otherwise. She hardly knew what she was doing, after all.
Still, it was hard to resist the temptation.
For all that it saved him from committing an exceedingly rash act, the gentle creak of hinges was an unwelcome intrusion.
He opened his eyes just enough to see Lady Carrington, London’s biggest gossip, standing there in the doorway, looking on with undisguised glee as she took in what was no doubt a torrid tableau.
“Henry?” Sabrina’s voice sounded drugged. Her eyes were still closed, lashes fluttering against her cheeks as wildly as the pulse hammering at her throat. “Don’t…don’t stop. Please.”
Lady Carrington’s garish, rouged lips formed a little O of shock.
In that moment, Henry knew there was nothing for it but to play the cards he’d been dealt. Even if he pulled away and stopped right then, it was already too late. The damage was done. Not unhappily, he obliged Sabrina’s request. After a few seconds, he heard their spectator fleeing back down the hall.
In approximately five minutes every person of consequence in the Somerset ballroom would be informed that one Lady Sabrina Grayson had been caught in flagrante delicto with one Lord Henry Montgomery.
This must be what it feels like to drown…
Sabrina cataloged the differences between this kiss and the first. They were quite distinct. The first had been an exploration. This one tasted of pure hunger.
Montgomery’s hands were everywhere, trailing fire across her body wherever they made contact. Had he not been holding her so fiercely, she would have collapsed to the floor when his thumb dipped beneath the edge of her bodice to graze a nipple.
He pulled away just in time.
“Given adequate time and a more appropriate setting, I can show you such pleasures as you have never even imagined,” he murmured.
His words registered, filling her with mortification. Tearing loose, she bolted for the door.
But he was one step ahead. “Sabrina, wait, listen to m—”
“Let me go!” Shrugging off the now too-familiar hands that grasped her shoulders, she backed away, furious. Her anger was directed more at herself than at him, but she’d be damned if she’d let him know it.
“Not until you hear what I have to say.”
“Say it then, you…you unspeakable bastard! And then let me go!” she spat, backing as far away from him as possible.
“I know this must be a bit of a shock.” He took an unsteady breath. “It certainly is for me. Taking liberties with women in libraries is not a regular practice of mine. In fact, I can say in all honesty that this is the very first time I have ever done such a thing.”
Even in her upset, she found it within herself to lift a sardonic brow.
“You must believe me,” he insisted. “I did not come here intent on your ravishment.”
“I don’t care about your intentions! You’ll not touch me again! Not ever!”
Defying her words, he reached out. “Sabrina, please—”
She flinched away, warding him off with raised hands. “If you come any closer, I shall scream the roof down and to hell with the consequences. I am not some, some…strumpet for you to, to—”
“Damn it all, Sabrina! I only wished to spend time with you, to get to know you better!”
“Yes, well, you certainly achieved your purpose, didn’t you?”
“You know that isn’t what I meant.”
“Then what do you mean?”
“I should like to court you,” he all but shouted.
Stunned, she stood there, mouth agape for several seconds. “Court me? Me? You cannot possibly…” An incredulous laugh burst forth from her lungs. “This is some sort of elaborate jest, isn’t it? You are getting back at me for all of those pranks…” She searched his face, but he appeared to be perfectly serious. “If it isn’t that, then you’re daft.”
“Perhaps just a bit,” he admitted with a slanty grin. “But if I’ve lost my
head, it’s because ever since the moment I saw you again, you’ve been all I can think about.”
An electric sensation washed over her skin on hearing his words, the same feeling she experienced just before a thunderstorm. Alarmed, she drew herself up as she’d seen her mother do so many times and put on her sternest face. “Lord Montgomery, I am afraid I must refuse. Now, please let me pass.”
His brows drew together. “On what grounds do you refuse my suit?”
“Because I…you…because…”
“We are perfectly matched, Sabrina.” It was a silken promise. “You know it in your blood.”
“This is preposterous!” But her heart began to pound again.
“You asked me not to stop just now.”
The quietly spoken condemnation rang in her ears. She had indeed.
“Is it so preposterous to think we might make a good match?” he added softly.
Her trembling was uncontrollable now and spreading to the rest of her body, inside and out. Whether it was caused by fear or temptation, she could not discern. “You, sir, belong in Bedlam!”
“Why? Why is it insanity to know what I want?” he laughed, apparently not understanding why she was being so difficult.
After all, wasn’t it every woman’s desire to marry? And he was no paltry catch. To entertain such thoughts, however, was very dangerous. “You’d have to be insane to even think I’d ever agree to such a thing! I want no part of this lunacy.”
“Are you so certain?” The corner of his mouth curled, eliciting another pull of desire within her. “I want you, Sabrina. And you, if you’ll admit it, desire me. Let me court you.”
Fire licked through her. Yes, she wanted him. Which was why she had to get out now. Quick as lightning, she turned and ran to the door, not daring to look back as she propelled herself through it and into the blessedly empty hall.
Damn him. And damn me for not having better sense! She had to go home. At once. But on entering the ballroom, she immediately sensed that something was terribly wrong.
One by one, the stares settled on her like strange, leaden butterflies. Silence fell as she neared, followed by whispers after she’d passed. The sibilant echoes of the softly murmured word “kiss” were repeated over and over.
Embarrassment seared her like a winter frost. They knew. Somehow, they all knew.
The icy dread lasted only a brief instant, however, before the flames of wrath burned it away. Devil take them all for hypocrites! Especially that horrid, smirking Regina Cunningham! Why, just last Season, the little harlot had been caught with Lord Ludlow—a married man twice her age! Her enormous dowry was the only thing standing between her and spinsterhood.
Straightening her spine, Sabrina lifted her chin and ran the gauntlet. Let them gawk. It was only a kiss, after all. She’d done nothing most of the girls in this room hadn’t done a dozen or more times, at least. Her thoughts turned angrily to Henr—Lord Montgomery! she corrected herself. He was to blame for this.
Though she tried to smother it into silence, her conscience pricked her. No. This was her fault entirely. She’d tempted Fate, knowing the risks involved.
Another titter sounded as she passed, and she heard: “Lady Carrington said she saw them, and that the Grayson girl practically had her skirts tossed over her head, she was so thoroughly…”
Sabrina turned toward the source of the chatter, and the speaker looked away guiltily. So! Lady Carrington had witnessed their kiss—and had obviously greatly embellished the event in the telling.
Her temper rose. She’d intended to find Mama and go home at once, but now it appeared she had no choice but to face down her accuser and correct her gross exaggeration. It had to be done, and quickly. Lady Carrington had sent many a poor girl running, her reputation in shreds regardless of whether or not she was actually guilty of the alleged act.
She knew if she disappeared now, she would be ruined. She could not let that happen.
After all, she was innocent. Sort of. Certainly, she’d not done anything to merit the slander she’d just heard.
Anger made her brave as she searched the crowd. At the center of a gathering of eagerly listening people stood her enemy, her jaws working at the speed of lightning. Prune-faced old dragon! Someone spotted her. A hush fell as Carrington’s audience fell back.
A malicious smile curved the gossipmongers’ loose lips as Sabrina approached, and a frisson of apprehension brushed her spine. Everything depended on her holding her ground here. She crossed her arms and fixed the woman with angry, accusing eyes.
HENRY LOOKED ON the scene below with astonishment and admiration. Sabrina had more courage than many a man in his acquaintance—nobody crossed Lady Carrington. They wouldn’t dare.
And yet there she was, facing the woman down.
Words were exchanged between the two women. He couldn’t hear anything from his vantage point, but whatever Sabrina had said, it was certainly effective—Lady Carrington flushed a most unbecoming shade of red and looked down.
Henry blinked to be sure he wasn’t imagining things as Sabrina walked away, chin raised, eyes flashing with righteous indignation. In her wake, the crowd’s chatter returned.
She’d done it. She’d won. What a woman the little “Pest” had become! No battle-hardened general could have done better against such an enemy.
That a woman with her kind of spunk had run from him in a panic spoke volumes. His effect on her must be truly remarkable. He shifted his stance, grimacing slightly. Her effect on him was certainly powerful. Even now, he felt another pull of desire at the sight of her.
“My God, she’s actually pulled the fangs of the beast,” said a droll voice behind him.
Startled, Henry turned to see Percy standing there watching over his shoulder. He’d been so preoccupied he hadn’t even noticed him approach. “I take it you heard about—”
“The kiss?” interrupted Percy, grinning. “Oh, indeed. Within moments of Lady Carrington’s rather flustered arrival. Good job! When’s the wedding date?”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself. She won’t even allow me to court her yet.”
Percy looked shocked. “She’s rejected you? Must have been a dreadful kiss. I told you you ought to get in a bit more practice. My offer to escort you along the primrose path still stands, you know.”
“Funny,” Henry muttered. “It was a perfectly good kiss, I’ll have you know,” he said softly. “Trouble is, she doesn’t seem to think I’m serious.”
“You? You’re one of the most serious people I know. The only serious one, in fact. Far too serious, in my opinion.”
“Not everything is a joke, Percy.”
“It is when you’re me,” answered his friend. “Do you really wish to pursue a woman who doesn’t wish to be pursued? Why, when there are so many others who would give their left leg to bag the illustrious heir of Pembroke?”
Henry kept his face neutral. “It would be a very convenient union. I’ve known her and her family a long time.”
“I see. Are you certain that is the only reason?”
“I’m also damned attracted to her, if you must know.”
“Ah, now we get down to the truth of it!” Percy’s eyes lit. “Perhaps you’re not quite withering away. Excellent!” He coughed a little. “May I assume that the problem lies in that the lady is not likewise attracted?”
“She is.” His answer was short, as was his patience. Normally, he wouldn’t mind sharing his thoughts with his old friend, but Percy had a habit of playing devil’s advocate, and he had no desire to endure such discussions at the moment.
“But?” persisted the other man.
Damn. “I’m not certain why she seems so bent on rebuffing me. But I intend to find out and overcome the objection.”
“There’s the spirit!” exclaimed Percy, slapping him on the shoulder. “Don’t take no for an answer. Just be certain you’re not making a mistake by seeking her hand.”
Henry closed his eyes and quietly sighed
.
“Marriage is rather permanent, you know,” continued Percy. “You don’t want to be forever tied to a woman who doesn’t want you. Though there is always the pleasant diversion here and there, should the shackles become unpalatable. I should know. I provide such diversion to a number of lovely ladies.”
“Percy…” Now he truly wished he’d kept silent on the matter.
“Yes, yes. I know. I’m incorrigible. It’s part of my charm, so I’m told.”
“Can we discuss this another time?”
Percy’s grin broadened. “She’s really got you all in a dither, this one. Fine. I’ll let you brood in silence and solitude. If you need help—or rescuing, should she turn out to be a harpy—you know where to find me.” He departed, making a beeline for the nearest cluster of ladies, who greeted him with fluttering lashes and coy smiles.
Shaking his head, Henry returned to watching Sabrina. She was dancing with Lord Sheffield and behaving quite as though nothing untoward had occurred only moments prior. He laughed to himself. She might have removed her head from between the lion’s jaws, but she had not escaped unscathed. No matter how much she wanted to erase the incident, everyone would now think of them as a pair.
And they would be watching to see what happened next.
The music ended and she and Sheffield disappeared into the crush. He turned away, and his gaze lit upon Chadwick and his lady mother coming in his direction. The pair seemed to be in the midst of a quiet, heated debate.
Quickly, Henry moved to stand at the outer edge of a nearby cluster of guests and waited for them to pass. He had no desire for a confrontation with the lad.
But the mother and son did not pass by. They stopped—almost directly behind him.
Lady Chadwick’s voice was a reptilian hiss: “Apparently, they were so enthralled with one another they didn’t even take notice when she opened the door.”
What she said next surprised Henry.
“You’ve lost her, you fool! If you were less incompetent and more of a man, it would have been you in there instead of him!”
The lad did not answer, and Henry thought that would be the end of it, but then Chadwick broke his silence with evident fury. “Allow me to remind you that I am a man full grown and heir to my father’s estate in its entirety. Your future comfort is dependent upon my goodwill, and I will not tolerate being berated in public like a child!”
