Mistaken Kiss: A Humorous Traditional Regency Romance (My Notorious Aunt Book 2)

by Kathleen Baldwin

  She would speak as loudly as she pleased. Who cared if the coachman heard? “Have you been in the widow’s boudoir? That’s what I mean. That awful Lady Vessmere. Is she one of your women?”

  “Gad, Willa! Is that what you’re on about?” He chortled happily and moved across the carriage to sit next to her. “No. I have never been in Lady Vessmere’s lair.” The devil stopped to rub his chin as if he must reconsider. “Although, I believe she was on point of inviting me tonight. May have even done so. I’m not certain.”

  “Wretch!” Willa crossed her arms abruptly, but she had to know the rest. “Would you have gone?”

  Both eyebrows flew up. “A lady is not supposed to ask those sorts of questions.”

  She set him her best stern expression. “Don’t sidestep the matter.”

  His face softened, and he lowered his voice. “No, Willa. I would not have gone.” His gaze washed over her, cleansing away any doubt.

  “Oh.” It took only an instant for her relief to turn to consternation. She frowned. Why wouldn’t he? The woman was undeniably attractive. Most men...but it made no sense. “Why not? Are your other women even more beautiful than she is?”

  He made a soft whistling sound through his teeth and leaned his head in one hand, shaking it. “You need a proper chaperone. One who will school your tongue as well as keep you out of unsuitable places.”

  Pleased for some inexplicable reason, she took a deep breath. “I’m afraid it’s too late for my tongue. There’s no altering its education now. It follows my mind exactly, which was schooled to question everything. You may credit Socrates and our brothers for that.”

  He threw his hat across to the other seat and leaned his head against the back of the carriage. “Never would have believed I’d have to thank Daniel for anything. Yet, there it is.”

  “My tongue doesn’t annoy you? A moment ago I thought you wanted someone to school it properly.”

  He stared at her. “A foolish thought. Why should I want to change something I enjoy so much?” Putting out his hand, he almost touched her but didn’t. “Your hair is coming loose.”

  “Do you mean to say, you think my tongue is so woefully undisciplined it renders me socially unacceptable?”

  “Hhmm. Yes.” He touched his finger to the curls beside her ear. “I’m not sure how you will get on in the world with such exceptional behaviors.”

  He was not concentrating properly. She tried to recall his attention to the point. “Is that what you want? That I should get on in the world? Wear a white dress at proper parties and find an impoverished cleric willing to marry me despite my pitiful dowry?”

  “At one time,” he murmured. “I suppose I’d imagined such a thing. Have I told you that you look beautiful in blue?” He toyed with her hair, coiling and uncoiling his fingers in the curls falling down her neck. Then he drew his fingers along her bare shoulder to where he met with the dark blue cap of her puffed sleeves. “Lovely. I was certain I’d have to thrash Alberney to get him to let go of you.”

  She said nothing. But watched, captivated, as every stroke of his fingertips against her skin undressed his soul.

  “If you were mine. I’d buy you nothing but blue silk. Miles of blue silk.”

  She felt potent, powerful, and yet every layer of want he revealed vibrated against a twin within her. An invisible force linked them like strings on an instrument tuned to the same note.

  He remembered himself, and pulled his hand away, squaring his shoulders, and adopting an authoritarian demeanor. “Lady Alameda should never have brought you there. She’s unfit to chaperone anyone, let alone an innocent like you.”

  It took her a moment to absorb the meaning of his words, drag her mind from the trance he’d invoked. She shook her head. “Aunt Honore would turn red and roar in your ear if she heard you call her my chaperone. I’m her protégé. She thinks of herself as my tutor.”

  “Exactly what is she tutoring you in, I wonder?” The coach had stopped briefly. He lifted the edge of the curtain and glanced out. “It doesn’t matter what she calls herself, she’s still your aunt. As such, she’s woefully negligent in her duty.”

  When the coach jolted back into motion, Willa bumped back against the seat. “Don’t scold her overmuch. It could be worse.”

  “Worse? I cannot see how. The mad countess keeps thrusting you into risky situations without the least regard for your welfare. The very idea of taking you to Lady Vessmere’s... I’m forced to conclude the woman is a bedlamite.”

  Willa played with the silk of her skirt near her knees. It soothed her to rub the soft fabric between her thumb and middle finger. It harkened back to something in the shadowy memories of her infancy, perhaps the comforting folds of her mother’s gown or a favorite blanket. She didn’t know, but it reassured her. “The truth is my aunt rescued me from what might have been endless years of dull...uneventful...” She tossed a hand into the air, resigned to honesty. “Emptiness.”

  Emptiness? Alex stared, unseeing, into the dark cave of their hack. How could it be true of her who seemed so full? He sat beside her contemplating the vast difference between their lives. She was the good dutiful daughter. He the prodigal. That they should both have felt empty baffled him. “You disliked St. Cleves that much?”

  “Disliked? No. St. Cleves is a pleasant-enough village. And I’m certain I will spend the rest of my days there in complete serenity.”

  “But you said—”

  She turned sharply, her lips pursed, and when she laid her hands together as if searching for patience with a slow student, he knew he was in for a lecture. “Serenity is a quality better appreciated after having experienced a few adventures and a bit of turmoil.”

  Turmoil? Such as the turmoil he felt in her presence? He doubted serenity was worth the price. He muttered, “I don’t care to contemplate the sort of adventures you might have encountered tonight.”

  She said nothing.

  Perhaps she underestimated the cost, nay the danger, of such an exploit. He turned to her. “You mustn’t go into such places, Willa. You have no idea what might have befallen you. Promise me.”

  Willa smiled. He was so earnest. She wanted desperately to run her fingers through his hair. He looked like a little boy begging his puppy not to run out into the road.

  “You mustn’t worry. Though I amble about the world half-blind, I may stumble but I almost always find my way. I suspect it will be the same with this.”

  She couldn’t resist. She slid her fingers into the curls over his ear. He turned into her touch as if he enjoyed her petting him. A small motion for his part, but one which stirred heat within her, weakening her, drawing her to him.

  He whispered into her fingers. “You’ve never stumbled around London before.” He caught her hand and kissed it as if they’d been friends forever. “It’s the idea of you losing your way here that disturbs me.”

  In the dim light, she stared at her hand caught in his. The sensation of his lips on her fingers still lingered in her mind. “Why does it disturb you?”

  He grimaced. “Blast Socrates. You delve too deep.”

  She no longer required the answer. It overjoyed her to witness his discomfort. “Would you really have thrashed Lord Alberney?”

  “This is what comes of two old bachelors raising a girl. She is fearless with her questions.”

  “Are you scolding me?” She leaned toward him. “You might chastise my wicked tongue in other ways.” She contemplated his mouth and concocted a very unladylike vision of herself tumbling into his arms and kissing him wildly. An idea fraught with logical flaws and potentially problematic consequences, but...

  “Willa, what in heaven’s name are you doing?” His voice was husky and close.

  She caught herself leaning into him, letting her wanton imaginings lead her. She fell back, embarrassed. “I’m sorry.”

  “Are you?”

  She peeked up at him. The wretch was grinning at her.

  “You’re sorry? For what offe
nse?”

  She detested that knowing grin. It meant he could tell exactly what she had been contemplating. She harrumphed at him. “You are a truly wicked man.”

  “Quite so. Exceedingly wicked. A rascal of the first water. Did I not give you a list of my defects when we first met?”

  She tapped her cheek. “Oh, yes. Now I remember. The consummate scoundrel, you said.” She crossed her arms. “If that is so, why must you confuse me by showing me such kindness?”

  “Folderol. I did no such thing. Not a kind bone in my body.” He shook his finger at her. “Ah, but you are cleverly diverting me from the point, my dear. Why are you sorry?”

  “You know perfectly well.”

  “Wouldn’t ask if I knew.”

  “Flummery. I can see it in your eyes. You know exactly what I was thinking.”

  He gently brushed his knuckles against her cheek and laughed softly.

  She ought to pull away from him, but what would such discipline cost? The loss of his hand against her face. Too great a price. “It’s laughable, isn’t it? A silly little peahen like myself wanting to throw herself in your arms. It defies reason.”

  His fingers trailed down the side of her face onto her neck, and he whispered, “You’re not a peahen, Willa.” He traced the outline of the sapphire necklace. A sliver of moonlight slanted across them as he trailed his fingers over her flesh, following the curve of the necklace almost to its conclusion. She couldn’t breathe until he brought his fingers back up beside her chin.

  Willa swallowed hard, aware she was acting the fool again. “Alex, it’s as if you hold some magical power over me. Whenever I’m around you, I feel compelled to kiss you. Are all rakes this skillful?”

  “Is that what you think?” His features hardened, and he took away his enchanted fingers that had been so deftly tantalizing her neck. “I’m a rake? A seducer of women?”

  “You needn’t take umbrage. Haven’t you instructed me to think the worst? And yes! I’m quite certain you have scores of women, women like Lady Vessmere, only even more attractive and not so selfish a temperament. Dancers with almond eyes, tinkling symbols, and veils—”

  “A harem?” He fell back against the seat and laughed aloud.

  “Shhh! The coachman will hear you. Pray, do not laugh at me. I know whereof I speak. I’ve read books on the subject, and naturally, when you said you were a rake and a scoundrel, I thought—”

  “You must have read about a sheik.”

  She thumped her hand against the cracked leather of the seat. “Sheik, rake, it makes no difference. You both are vastly experienced with women.”

  He yanked on his cravat, pulling it free, and slid it up onto his head, sucking in his cheeks. “Do I look like a Bedouin?”

  “Take that off.”

  He let it fall, draping around his neck, and crossed his arms. “Aside from that, if you will put that magnificent mind of yours to work, you will recall I have always denied being a rake.”

  “Yes, but—”

  He glanced sideways at her. “Do you think me so depraved that I would intentionally seduce you? An innocent?”

  She bowed her head. What had she been thinking? Or had she been hoping? When all the while, he’d shown her nothing but kindness and consideration.

  “No, of course not,” she whispered. “Please. Forgive my rudeness. You’re a gentleman and have always treated me accordingly. It’s just that when I’m near you I feel so...”

  She grasped his folded arms. “Forgive me, Alex. It was merely the wild imaginings of a foolish girl.”

  He answered so softly she barely heard him. “No, Willa. Not foolish. I felt it too.”

  Silence, not unpleasant, clip-clopped inside the coach. But in her mind there were shrieks of joy, horns sounding, drums beating, and whirling, twirling, dancing. He felt it too.

  Alex took her hand in his, playing with her fingers one by one. “I wonder if you are not the one using mysterious enchantments on me.” He kissed her palm, smoothed his hand over her naked forearm, and sighed. “I’ve never felt this...compelled before either. Troublesome, is it not?”

  He smiled teasingly. “Confess, Miss Linnet. Are you a skilled seductress? Have our elder brothers been teaching you mystical arts of some kind?”

  She tried to laugh but couldn’t. She took a deep breath. “Naught but Socrates and Plato, Pythagorean theories and the golden mean.”

  “Ah, dead Greeks. I might have known.” He curved his hand around her cheek.

  She responded as he had, turning her lips to his palm and kissing it.

  “How then, did you become so alluring?”

  Taunts. Were these merely taunts he laid at her feet? She shook her head. By now her ridiculous hair must be springing riotously in nineteen different directions. She cared only for him, and for this moment, which would be lost forever if she didn’t act.

  She lowered her lashes. “If I had any skill at all, you would’ve been kissing me long ago, almost the moment we left Lady Vessmere’s house.”

  He inhaled sharply, and she knew she’d been far too brazen.

  “Confound it, woman! How do you expect me to keep my distance if you say such things?”

  Too mortified to speak, she sank back into the seat, hiding her face, unable to apologize. If she had to put words on her disgraceful attempt to seduce him and her abysmal failure, she would shed tears. Far too revealing tears.

  He reached out to tuck a strand of wayward hair behind her ear. “No, don’t think that. Come here, Willa.” He pulled her into his arms.

  She curled against his chest. “Alex, it’s true. I’m afraid I’m the wicked one. I can’t help it. Truly. I realize it isn’t rational behav—”

  “Shh.” He touched his finger to her lips, and followed that by kissing her slowly, languidly.

  When he pulled back, she felt bereft, grieved for want of his mouth on hers. She pulled him back to her lips so he might taste her hunger.

  He kissed her again. This time, she knew he felt the same craving she did. He held her so close and kissed her so thoroughly she could no longer tell the difference between her heart pounding, or his. His breath rising and falling, or hers.

  He kissed the side of her neck and along the sensitive slope on her shoulder.

  A sound came unbidden out of her mouth, the mew of a kitten or something equally foolish. Foolish because it made him stop.

  Alex exhaled loudly. Leaning his head back, he ran his hand through his hair. “Dear God. Perhaps I am depraved.”

  “No!” She cupped his face in her palms. “You are the most wonderful man I’ve ever known. I want you to kiss me more and more.” She felt excited, eager, like a child about to open a Christmas package.

  He shook his head slightly, warily. “Willa, you don’t know what you’re asking of me.”

  She looked at him steadily. “I know precisely what I’m asking.”

  “In that case, my wicked little seductress, you ought to be spanked soundly. It isn’t in my nature to be so well behaved. Resisting temptation is not my strong suit.”

  She caressed his rough-shaven jaw. “Don’t you understand? I would have withered into an old maid and never known this incredible happiness if you hadn’t come into my life.” She smiled. “Having tasted bliss, can you blame me for wanting more?” She leaned up and kissed him softly next to his ear. “There will never be another chance for me.”

  “That’s not true, Willa. You’re the sort who marries and raises a half-dozen children.”

  “Highly improbable.”

  He grabbed her hands and, clasping them firmly in his, turned teacher. “Statistics and equations again? Let me assure you, it will happen. You will make some man excessively happy.”

  She shook her head, lowering it mournfully.

  “And why not?” He lifted her chin, making her look at him, forcing her to memorize the silver light moving across his features, glistening against the dark of his eyes, falling across the slope of his nose, defining the
strong lines of his jaw.

  Because, I love you.

  She couldn’t tell him that. He might toss her out of the carriage. “Because...” She shook her head. “No, it’s impossible. Unthinkable.” And it was.

  “You’re more beautiful than you realize. Surely—”

  She sighed and sat up, facing him squarely. He may as well know the truth. If he tossed her out, so be it. “Whether I am beautiful or not is irrelevant. The thought of anyone but you touching me causes a sickness in my stomach. I don’t believe I could abide it.”

  Alex swallowed hard. His gaze strayed to her breasts. The ridiculously low neckline did little to conceal her. She felt completely naked. He was thinking of it then, someone else fondling her. Good, she could see it sickened him as well. His face blanched and hardened like it had the night Darley almost died.

  She fidgeted with the buttons on his vest. “You see my dilemma?”

  He didn’t answer. He was thinking. Contemplating what? The noise of it almost deafened her. His breathing was shallow and labored. She chewed the corner of her lip. What if he came to the wrong conclusion?

  She had to take the advantage while she had it. Willa kissed him. She kissed his fine straight nose, his brow, his temple, his eyelids, closed tightly against her onslaught, and then she returned to his agreeable mouth.

  She was wicked and, undoubtedly, foolish. But it no longer mattered.

  He reached for her. With a touch, soft as the moonlight drifting into the window, he held her shoulder. Halting her. Clenching his jaw as if in pain. When he opened his eyes, Alex focused only on her face. “Do you trust me, Willa?”

  Her voice broke. The small word came out in two hesitant pieces. “Yes.”

  “Are you certain?”

  “You know that I do. That night Darley foaled I saw... I knew... It was as if I could see into your—”

  He nodded and laid two fingers against her lips to keep her from saying more. “Then you must understand. It cannot be like this.”