Provocative in Pearls

by Madeline Hunter

  She was a normal woman, and not immune to those eyes and that face. He had intimidated her two years ago when, almost broken by Bertram’s treatment, she had all but cowered in this earl’s presence.

  Such as she did not marry such as he. Not because she was not worthy, and not because she had already chosen a different kind of man and a different future. Any chance of happiness would be doomed because they had known two different worlds, two different Englands, and had almost no points in common and no similar sympathies.

  The only thing about him that had been familiar to her had been the mastery in his manner. Her father had been like that. But her father had not been such a big man, and so his mastery did not carry the implications of physical power that this earl’s did. Her intuitions about that power had not been good, and his presence had made her want to shrink . . . recede . . . disappear.

  She had taken an odd sort of comfort in his face, however. Handsome, to be sure, but not pretty. Not smooth and almost feminine like some elegant lords. It was a thoroughly masculine handsomeness, the kind that might be seen over a forge or in a stable. The strong bones came together with a perfection that seemed more accidental than carefully bred, and the insinuation of disdain was not there the way it could be in other, softer faces.

  “Summerhays and Audrianna have suggested that we go to Essex with them,” he said. “Their idea is that some time there might help you become comfortable with the future, and with me.”

  “That is kind of them. Also of you, if you have accepted the plan.”

  “I am not without sympathy to the shock that you have had in being discovered. If a few days in Essex will ease your distress, we can wait on returning to London.”

  He was being most solicitous. She was not sure that was a good thing. If he was too kind, it would all be harder.

  “I will be grateful for this sojourn before being resurrected, Lord Hawkeswell. The public curiosity will not be pleasant, and I do not mind putting it off. I wonder if I can make a request about this house visit, however. Since it will be brief, perhaps you will indulge me for these few days.”

  Suspicion entered his eyes, and a bit of pique. No doubt he thought he had already agreed to indulge her more than required. “How so?”

  “Since this has indeed been unexpected, I would appreciate it if we would put off any wedding night until the visit is over. Perhaps we can use this time to learn what we have in each other, so . . .” She shrugged, and hoped he understood women as well as Celia claimed.

  “You play a shrewd hand, considering that you have no cards. I do not mind delaying those rights for a few days as you ask. After waiting two years, it is a small matter. If you think that you are going to convince me to seek an annulment, however, that will not happen.”

  How like a man to think he could foresee the future. To think he knew now how he would feel in four days on such an important matter. Once he knew her better, and once he heard her proposal about the money, he would surely be of a different mind.

  “I also ask that you not inform anyone about finding me until we leave Essex,” she said. “If we can put off all the gossip for these few days, I can better prepare myself for it.”

  “I will agree to both your requests if you also agree to several things,” he said. “First, you must promise not to run away and disappear again tonight.”

  That was easy to accept. There would be no point in running away with him so close on her trail. Besides, she had things to do, and she could not do them if she went into hiding again. She had been planning on leaving The Rarest Blooms, but not to disappear from the world stage.

  He stepped closer and looked down at her. His proximity emphasized his strength and her disadvantage in ways that she felt viscerally.

  “I require that you accept one other term in this bargain, Verity. I will not expect my marital rights if you willingly accept three kisses a day.”

  He surprised her. It would be much better if they did not do that.

  “What kind of kisses?”

  “Whatever kind you will permit.”

  “Very brief ones, then.”

  “Other than the kisses themselves, I will expect nothing more.”

  “They must be private. I do not want to kiss in front of Audrianna.” They would not want witnesses to be quizzed on whether these kisses implied more than they did. It would be hard enough obtaining an annulment if they spent time together in the same house, even as guests.

  “I promise that they will be private.” He smiled a little when he said it, as if he understood why she wanted that. She thought that was a good sign. It was the first smile of the day too. She had to admit that he had a nice smile, one that brought lights to his eyes and made his face much friendlier.

  “If they will be private and brief, I will agree to three kisses. I do not know why you want them so soon, and every day, however.”

  “Perhaps because you are lovely, and because you are my wife.” Still that vague smile, and eyes now veiled with appreciative consideration.

  So that was how it was going to be. While she won him over to the idea of not fighting an annulment, he would try to win her over to the idea of her inevitable fate in his bed.

  “Then we are decided,” she said. “When does Lord Sebastian think to leave for Essex? Today? If so, I should pack my belongings. It will not take long.”

  “Tomorrow. He and I will go to an inn in Cumberworth tonight, and bring his carriage in the morning.”

  One more night, then, with her dear friends. It promised to be full of nostalgia.

  She nodded her acceptance, and went back to piercing the soil around a lemon tree with her auger. He did not leave as she expected, but stood there, two feet away, watching her.

  “Verity, I will have one of those kisses now.”

  She straightened and faced him. “We are not yet in Essex.”

  “I did not say they would wait for Essex. You can spare one today, I am sure. This has not been a reunion designed to put me in good humor, and you are smart enough to know that I did not have to agree to this plan, and could have much more than a kiss if I chose.”

  There it was again, that frank statement of his rights and her lack of power. A shiver of an old fear flexed through her before she could stop it. It would probably always be thus. A woman should at least be truly willing, and have an honest understanding, before she was put completely under a man’s authority and subjected to the whims of his humor.

  She suppressed both the fear and the rebellion that usually accompanied it now. He had given her no real cause to react this way. It had not been a reunion to please a man, or a discovery that flattered this one. Yet he had been more amenable to this house visit than he had to be.

  “You are correct. One kiss today is the least I can do to thank you for the restraint you have promised to show.”

  He found that slightly amusing, but perhaps not in a good way. He moved very close to her and, with firm fingers, tilted her chin up. The contact felt strange, and a little dangerous. She was not accustomed to being touched by a man, skin on skin, even in this simple way.

  He gazed so deeply that she grew uncomfortable. She closed her eyes, braced herself, and prepared to step back after the briefest touch of their lips.

  “Have you ever been kissed before?” he asked.

  “Years ago, when I was a young girl.” A vague snip of memory drifted into her head. She saw Michael Bowman’s crooked smile before that first kiss. A deep sorrow twisted her heart.

  “How many years ago?”

  “Six, I think. Why do you ask?”

  “There is the possibility that you did not run from me, so much as run to another man.”

  The suggestion alarmed her. “There is no man here, as you can see.”

  “That you are here, and there is no man, does not mean you did not leave because of one.”

  He did not give her a chance to respond. He tilted his head and touched his lips to hers.

  She had n
o specific memory of the physical parts of that girlish first kiss, other than it had made her want to giggle. Certainly it did not prepare her for the oddness of this intimacy, and the way he suddenly dominated her senses. There was firmness in his mouth despite the velvet pads of his lips, and control in that hand beneath her chin even as it held her gently.

  She became aware of how little space separated their bodies, and how his scent encompassed her along with something else that came from him, something invisible but almost tangible. There was too much of his presence in that kiss, and much of it came from within rather than from his physical existence.

  She did not suffer it long. She allowed little more than a mere brushing that created an odd tingle, and a slight pressure that she resisted. She stepped back quickly, freeing herself from that careful hand.

  He looked at her with deep consideration for a moment, then turned away.

  “Until tomorrow, then, dear wife.”

  Chapter Five

  “It is fitting that it is raining today,” Hawkeswell mut-It tered. “Appropriate, somehow.”

  “Are you angry that Audrianna asked Verity to share her chamber at the inn last night?” Summerhays said. “Surely you did not intend to—”

  “No, I did not intend to. Bad enough that I am an actor in a farce. I don’t want to have the inhabitants of a public inn as the audience.”

  His horse paced beside Summerhays’s, and both followed behind Summerhays’s carriage. Inside it, tidy and dry, Verity and Audrianna no doubt plotted how to manage him.

  With elegant artfulness, the ladies had ensured that they would be alone together on most of this journey, and their husbands would ride alongside. A day and a half had now passed since setting out for Essex, with Verity able to avoid speaking to him or being in his presence for more than a few minutes.

  Dinner last night had been the exception. Audrianna and Summerhays had carried the conversation. Verity had studied her food, the walls, the floor, and her friends. Hawkeswell had studied her, and the way the candlelight flattered her snowy skin and delicate features.

  “Your bad humor is understandable,” Summerhays offered in that infuriating, soothing voice he had adopted ever since Verity had been discovered. “All the same, I hope that you will attempt to swallow your feelings of insult and make the best of this time. It could make all the difference if it goes well.”

  Hawkeswell peered through the veil of rain dripping off his hat’s brim. “I am not in a bad humor as a result of perceived insult. I am in a bad humor because I am wet.”

  “Of course.”

  “And what do you mean, ‘make the best of this time’? And that other nonsense about a difference?”

  “I just thought that if you used that charm of yours and stopped scowling, when you did intend to . . . Well, it might be less unpleasant.”

  “Damn you, are you giving me advice on how to handle a woman? My wife, no less?”

  Summerhays sighed. “Damn you in turn, Hawkeswell. From what I have heard, she barely knows you. You never courted her properly, according to Audrianna. I agree that she has behaved badly, but unless you want a home full of anger and bitterness, you might consider employing a bit of flattery instead of looking so dangerous.”

  The rain had begun easing. Hawkeswell took off his hat, gave it a good shake, and replaced it on his head. “I am looking dangerous?”

  “All the ladies seemed to think so. Audrianna thought you appeared wolfish last night at dinner.”

  “That was because I was hungry.”

  “Mrs. Joyes was inclined to refuse to allow Verity to leave yesterday morning, and had her pistol cleaned and ready. Had Verity balked at all, I fear we would have had a dreadful scene. I am afraid that you did not impress Mrs. Joyes favorably.”

  “That grieves me. Mrs. Joyes’s good opinion is so important to me.”

  “Now you are being sarcastic. That is your bad humor showing again.”

  “Summerhays, I do not worry overmuch about the views of a woman who harbored my wife incognito for two years, and who threatened to shoot me. I find Mrs. Joyes a suspicious person in general. However, I will try not to scowl, or look dangerous. I will smile like an idiot while my wife and yours devise ways to attach puppet strings to me, as they are sure to try.”

  “That is not fair. Audrianna is not devising anything.”

  “You really are in love, aren’t you? I can see that you will be worthless as an ally. The enemy camp owns you now, and will use you to their own good. I am on my own.”

  Summerhays did not like that. “I speak as your friend, and not a member of any enemy camp, even if you are too vexed by current circumstances to realize it. You have seduced countless women in your day, Hawkeswell. It would be wise for you to seduce one more.”

  He did not need another man’s advice about his current circumstances. He had already decided his course of action last night, while he watched Verity flush under his gaze and while he felt his body tighten as he observed how lovely she appeared in the candlelight.

  He hardly needed Summerhays to point out that seduction was the easiest, fastest, happiest, and most thorough solution to the entire situation.

  “It is a very fine property, Audrianna.” Verity peered out the carriage window as the manor house at Airymont came into view on a rise of land in the distance. “I can smell the sea on the breeze.”

  “The coast is not far away. We will make some outings there if you like.” Audrianna tied on her bonnet and prepared for their arrival. Outside, one could hear the rhythm of the coach’s horses, and the other two horses following.

  Verity thought that she could identify which set of hooves belonged to Hawkeswell’s steed. They were probably the ones that fell hard, with an emphasis that did not compromise much with the ground. The man astride that horse had not displayed much inclination to compromise since leaving Middlesex either.

  He had been mostly silent at dinner last night, watching her with pensive consideration that charged the air with a mood that made her nervous and flustered. His attention had discomfited her, and might have given her concern if she did not assume that he would be honorable about his promises.

  “This estate belongs to my husband’s brother,” Audrianna said as the carriage moved closer and the true size of the house loomed larger. “Perhaps, when he returns from Bohemia, if that physician is successful in curing his paralysis, he can enjoy country life again. If he must continue to live as an invalid, however, he is better in town, where at least he can have company more frequently.”

  Verity thought it unlikely that the Marquess of Wittonbury would ever return to England, let alone live here again. She knew that Audrianna doubted it too. His departure had been under a cloud of scandal that would have been more damaging if he had not sacrificed so much in the war. But Audrianna always hoped for the best, and for the return of the brother-in-law with whom she had forged a special bond.

  The coach stopped in a large courtyard flanked by two embracing wings. A servant helped Audrianna out. Verity followed just as their husbands swung off their mounts.

  The day had turned hot and sultry once the rain passed, and everyone expressed relief upon entering Airymont’s reception hall. Its inlaid marble floor and relatively spare furnishing made it a cool sanctuary. Refreshments were brought while servants carried luggage away.

  “There is a yacht over at Southend-on-Sea,” Lord Sebastian said. “We can go sailing tomorrow if the weather is fair.”

  Hawkeswell brightened at the suggestion. The two men discussed the yacht, the coast, and what sport might be had. Verity sipped her punch and allowed her presence to recede.

  She had learned how to do that after Bertram became her guardian and came to live in the house she once shared with her father. She had discovered that if she withdrew into herself until others became muted to her awareness, she in turn became muted to theirs.

  This had been useful the last two years in Daphne’s house too. Since she was not req
uired to be any particular place at any particular time, she had also been able to make herself scarce when necessary. When Lord Sebastian visited, for example.

  However, in avoiding him she had also avoided seeing Audrianna in her new life as his wife. She had not been to their wedding, and had never seen Audrianna’s new home in London. The full meaning of her friend’s good fortune had thus escaped her until now, as she sat on a fatly cushioned chair in a reception hall that was larger than most cottages, glancing up at a ceiling soaring thirty feet above her head, while her humble shoes rested on a floor composed of four different-colored marbles.

  Audrianna did not seem intimidated by these surroundings. Lord Sebastian and Lord Hawkeswell lounged comfortably, as if they expected nothing less of their abodes. She, on the other hand, had never before seen such effortless luxury, even though she was an heiress and her father had amassed a fortune of note.

  Some invisible, inaudible signal caught Audrianna’s attention and she stood. “The housekeeper will show you to your chambers now. There is a small lake not far from the back of the house, through the garden. Shall we all join together there at five o’clock, and dine alfresco?”

  Lord Sebastian thought that an excellent idea. He congratulated his wife on her cleverness while the housekeeper led Verity and Hawkeswell away.

  Two stories above, the woman handed Hawkeswell over to a manservant waiting at high double doors, and escorted Verity to similar ones thirty feet away. Verity looked over at the proximity of Hawkeswell’s chamber just as he did the same with hers. Then his doors opened and he disappeared within.

  “I hope that this apartment will find favor with you, Lady Hawkeswell,” the housekeeper said, opening the doors to reveal a large chamber awash in fashionable green hues. “It has good air in the summer, and shade in the afternoon. Please let me know if it does not suit you.” The three windows had already been opened fully, so that good air could enter.

  It was the first time anyone had called her “Lady Hawkeswell.” She almost turned her head to see the important woman whom the housekeeper addressed. Instead she went to the window and looked out. Positioned at the end of a back wing, it faced east.