Lord Devere's Ward

by Sue Swift

  Affair. That was the word, wasn’t it? He wanted to have an affair with his ward…or more.

  His breath caught in his throat as Kate appeared at the gap in the hedge, then entered the center of the maze.

  They were alone. A butterfly fluttered ’round the silk flowers on Kate’s bonnet. She untied the ribbon beneath her chin, then sat down next to him on the narrow bench.

  * * *

  Bryan and Sybilla had broken off from the rest of the group at the next junction in the maze, but found themselves at a dead end. “Oh dear,” remarked Sybilla placidly. “I fear we are lost.” She turned to Bryan and smiled.

  * * *

  Louisa swallowed hard as Sir Willoughby

  Hawkes took her hand and led her into an isolated corner of the maze. Though greatly attracted by the rake, she now felt she had perhaps overstepped herself.

  * * *

  Pauline and Ambrose quarreled cheerfully about the route to the middle of the maze until they had actually made a complete circle of its rim and found themselves at the entrance.

  “That’s it,” Pauline said. “My feet hurt in these wretched slippers, and I’m thirsty. Let’s go back to the landau and see if there’s any tea or lemonade.”

  * * *

  Kate smiled at Quinn. “I believe I’ve won your prize, my lord.”

  “So what shall you demand of me, sweet Kate?” She tipped her head to one side and regarded him, still flirting with her eyes, her smile. He could tell she was nervous, yet expectant. He did not know if he should encourage her.

  “I’m not quite sure yet.” She touched the tip of her tongue to her upper lip. “What do you have to give me, my lord?”

  His voice rasped in his throat. “Quinn. Please, call me Quinn.”

  “My lord Quinn,” she said, with just a trace of mocking good humor in her tone.

  “Kate,” he said, taking her chin gently between his long, strong fingers. She quivered slightly but did not pull away as he stroked her cheek. Her response rippled through her body as he drew her into his arms.

  Yes. The first kiss was as sweet as he had known it would be. For a few moments, he forgot why he had denied his desire, and hers, for so long.

  As he touched his lips to hers, it was as though a spark flashed between them, igniting their emotions.

  Their mouths caressed and danced. When his tongue sought admission, she did not refuse him entry. He groaned as his embrace tightened, pulling her onto his lap. She reached up, touching his shoulders, tentatively at first, then with more confidence as their kiss deepened. Her arms wound around his neck as he held her close. He could feel her breasts, barely confined by the flimsy muslin, pressing against his chest. Her heartbeat was quick as a rabbit’s, and knowing she was excited aroused him all the more.

  When they finally parted he regarded her with amazement. “My darling Kate. Where did you learn to kiss like that?”

  She chuckled as she wriggled on his lap. He groaned as she unwittingly rubbed her backside against his erection. Good God, how he wanted her.

  “Are you all right, Quinn?”

  “I’m fine, sweetling, but let’s move you back onto the bench for now.” She shifted her weight, then let him entwine her fingers with his. He raised her hand to his lips and kissed each fingertip, then the back of her hand, appreciating the delicate interplay of bone and muscle. “That was not a rhetorical question. I am sure neither Aristophanes nor Homer discusses kissing in such detail.”

  “I am not entirely book-learned, sir. I have had some small contact with boys.”

  “‘Some small contact with boys’?” he repeated.

  “Need I be outraged, my ward?”

  She laughed again. “I trust not, my guardian. The brothers of my schoolmates would occasionally visit Miss Elizabeth’s, and I did steal a kiss or two.”

  “And how do I compare?”

  “Ummm…very well, I must say. You exhibit natural talent as well as considerable experience, my lord.”

  “Oof!” Slapping his chest, Quinn affected a shot to the heart. “I suppose I deserved that.”

  “Completely. I felt for a moment you were questioning my virtue.”

  “Absolutely not. But you do exhibit natural talent as well as, um, some experience, my ward.” He looked down at her and smiled.

  She met his gaze without a flinch, lifting her mouth to his again. “Only some experience, I assure you.” She broke off as they both heard shouts in the distance, followed by a rustle in the shrubbery.

  Bryan and Sybilla dashed into the clearing, panting. “We’re being followed!” Bryan shouted. “It’s the oddest thing—”

  A shot rang out. Quinn grabbed Kate to force her onto the ground beneath his body. Bryan protected Sybilla, whose aqua silk would never be the same after a tumble onto the damp grass.

  Sir Willoughby Hawkes ran into the clearing. He brandished his unsheathed sword-cane in one hand.

  His other arm was wrapped defensively around Louisa. Lou’s hair was disheveled, and her mouth, slightly swollen. Quinn was distracted by the thought that each couple appeared as though they had a delightful afternoon of dalliance, except for unexpected gunshots.

  “What on earth is going on!” burst out Louisa.

  “Where are Pauline and Ambrose?”

  “I don’t know!” Quinn was deeply dismayed.

  “Let’s get to the landau. Hopefully we’ll find them on the way out.”

  “We should separate to search every

  corner.”Nevertheless, Bryan did not loosen his hold on Sybilla.

  “No! We’re stronger as a group.” Hawkes released Louisa and prowled the margins of the clearing, sword-cane at the ready.

  “Better listen to him,” Quinn said. “He did fight at Waterloo.”

  The rest of the party turned admiring eyes upon Sir Willoughby.

  “You fought Napoleon?” Louisa sounded

  breathless.

  Hawkes’ lips thinned. “Yes, but this is not the time to discuss my past. Come, let’s away.” Dragging her by the hand, he left the clearing.

  The others followed at a quick pace. They dashed out of the maze, encountering no one. Whoever had been responsible for the gunshot was gone.

  As they left the maze, Quinn was astonished to see Ambrose and Pauline seated upon a blanket drinking tea as though nothing were amiss. Quinn’s landau was close by. A footman dozed on the grass while the groom walked the horses.

  “Oh, there you are,” said Pauline. “Apple tart, anyone?”

  The group rushed her en masse. “Did you see anyone leave the maze, Paul?” asked Quinn.

  “No, Uncle Quinn, no one except that cully over there,” said Pauline.

  Ambrose gestured with his teacup at a shabby figure in a greatcoat mounting a horse a distance away. The rider took off his tricorne and waved it at them with a flourish as he cantered down the lane toward Richmond.

  * * *

  When they returned to Bruton Street, Kate hauled Quinn into the library and rang for a footman. “Please request Sir Pen and Lady Anna to join us.” Quinn watched as she paced back and forth, back and forth, wondering what she had in mind. When her host and hostess entered, she was blunt. “It’s happened again, and I must leave.”

  “What?” The Penroses stared at her, mystified.

  Kate somehow managed to calm her breath.

  “There was another attack.” Quinn began to demur, and she raised her hand and her voice. “No! Don’t argue with the evidence of mine own eyes and ears, Lord Devere. I know what happened.”

  “Kate, be reasonable!”

  “It’s more important for my friends to be safe than it is for me to be reasonable.”

  “Where are you going to go, where? Katherine, I am your guardian and you shall do as I say!”

  “How dare you put your family in danger!” He brought down his fist onto the table, which jumped from the force of his anger. “No one is in danger and I demand you hear me out!” He calmed his voice. �
�Katherine, I have hired the Bow Street Runners. Herbert and his cub are in Cornwall and what happened this afternoon has nothing to do with you! Stop believing you are the center of the world!” She stared at him. Her eyes filled. “That’s mean, Quinn.”

  “Will someone please explain what has happened today?” Pen asked. “Kay, I gather another untoward event has taken place.”

  She nodded, visibly miserable. Anna sat and pulled Kate down beside her, putting her arm around Kate’s shoulders. Katherine lost her composure completely and began to sob in Anna’s arms.

  Anna looked up, glaring at Quinn. “Get out.”

  “But—but—”

  “Quinn, get out. You’ve done enough.”

  Quinn turned. “I didn’t do anything wrong,” he muttered to Pen as they left the room.

  His brother-in-law raised his brows as he led Quinn into the drawing room and closed the doors.

  Pen poured a brandy and handed it to Quinn. “When the ladies turn on the faucets, my boy, it’s best to leave them to their own devices. What steps have you taken to safeguard your ward?”

  “I warned Badham off her, while convincing him I didn’t know where she is.”

  “A fancy trick. How do you know they were persuaded?” Pen poured for himself.

  “I put the Runners onto them. They have been followed to Cornwall, to Lady Kate’s holdings there.

  Apparently the Gillender tin mines in Cornwall are the only properties they have not checked for her presence.”

  “When did they leave?”

  “Wednesday, late.”

  “Four days ago. It isn’t likely that they’d be back in London for two or three more days,” mused Pen.

  “You are right, this attack must be from another quarter. But who?”

  * * *

  Kate cried for a while, feeling guilty and wretched. When she finally emerged from Anna’s embrace, she looked at the older woman’s face. Kate was surprised to see a tender, maternal smile.

  “Don’t you blame me for putting everyone in danger?”

  “My dear Kate, this is absolutely not your fault.

  Quinn is right in this instance,” Anna said tranquilly.

  “He is your guardian and you must do as he says. Go to your room and wash your face, and you and Quinn will discuss what should be done.”

  * * *

  Kate faced Quinn with no pretense of equanimity.

  Her fingers plucked the fabric of her skirt as she paced across the room. “My lord, it appears we are at an impasse.”

  Quinn leaned against the mantle above the library fireplace and moodily kicked at the carved marble trim decorating the hearth.

  “I would not have you so angry with me, Katherine,” he said at length. “Please accept my most sincere apology.”

  “No, it was I who was at fault, my lord. You are my guardian and it is my obligation to do as you deem fit.”

  He raised his head. “Such meekness is not characteristic of you, sweet Kate. What have you in store for me?”

  She eyed him and frowned. “You are very suspicious. I am merely trying to make amends for my lack of appropriate gratitude and courtesy.”

  “You are capable of anything. I hope your surprise will be pleasant, like your kiss, rather than like the frogs in my bed.”

  “The least you could do is accept my apology.” He smiled. “Let us say, then, we treated each other cruelly, and resolve to be more kind in the future.”

  “As you wish.” She inclined her head. “However, I remain concerned for my safety and that of your family.”

  He waved his hand in the air. As usual, she was charmed by the useless, silly gesture. “All is being done which can be done, Lady Kate.”

  “And yet, we are endangered.” She paced. “I have a solution.”

  He frowned. “Here it comes.”

  She glared at him, then plunged forward. “The other afternoon, you suggested I marry. My lord, you are right. Married, my property and my person belong to my husband, and he would become my heir. I would cease to be a target for Herbert or Osborn.”

  “I thought you had determined not to marry as yet.” His voice was cold.

  She touched her tongue to her upper lip. I had no idea this would be so difficult. Small wonder men talk to a woman’s parents first.

  “Marry me, Quinn.”

  “What?”

  “It’s the perfect answer,” she said in a rush. “You already have control over my person and my fortune, and you’ve proven yourself trustworthy with both.”

  “Kate, you’ve got bats in your belfry! I’m not going to let you throw yourself away—”

  “That’s a nice way to think of yourself!”

  “Well, you’ve got a nice way of thinking of marriage!”

  “I’m trying to take a practical approach.”

  “Practically speaking, Kate, you’re not even out yet. ’Twould never work!”

  She gulped. “Is there someone else?” she managed to ask. Innocent and unsophisticated, perhaps her kiss had disappointed experienced Quinn. She remembered again the gossip passed along by Sybilla Farland: Your guardian has a bit of a reputation with the ladies…he’s known to be quite the Corinthian… And wasn’t he interested in that redhead, Staveley?

  “Of course there’s no one else! What kind of man do you think I am? Would I have kissed you this afternoon if there were someone else?”

  “I don’t know, Quinn, would you?”

  “Kate, stop it, just stop it!” Quinn dragged at his hair with both hands.

  Her voice weakened as she realized he wouldn’t say yes, would never say yes. “Don’t you want me?”

  “Want you?” He stared at her with disbelief writ large on his lean countenance. “Not want you?” He uttered a shaky laugh. “What place does simple desire have in the practical arrangement you propose? Good God, Kate, can’t you see how impossible this is?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Katherine, I will not allow you to marry me or anyone else only because you feel terrorized by Lord Badham. That is my final decision on the matter,” he informed her. “Pray do not raise the subject again.” She sat down, entirely crushed and defeated. She buried her face in her hands. “Yes, my lord.”

  “You will stay in this house until Pen and Pauline return to Kent,” he stated curtly. “You will go to Sevenoaks with them. Until then, will not leave this house at all, at all, do you understand? Unless I am with you.”

  He slammed out of the room and the house with nary a word to anyone, brushing past his sister and her husband without a remark.

  * * *

  Anna and Pen stared at each other as Quinn left.

  Anna finally broke the silence. “I have never before observed my brother to behave quite so badly.”

  “That is true.” Pen nodded.

  “He is usually the pattern-card of propriety.”

  “Yes.”

  “And congenial, besides.”

  “Yes, Quinn’s a fine fellow.”

  “My brother has always been sweet-natured.”

  “They must be in love,” Pen said. “Only people in love argue so.”

  * * *

  Kate felt like a prisoner in the Bruton Street house after only a few days. As if she were Napoleon on Elba, she heard, as if from a distance, news of the outside world. She initially chafed at the isolation, as she was angered by Quinn’s arrogant manner of arranging her life without so much as a by-your-leave. But later she found she didn’t mind the seclusion, as it gave her an opportunity to think.

  She spent many hours in the library or the back garden, pretending to read while reliving the events of the day at Hampton Court.

  His kiss had felt so good, and so right. Once committed, there was not a trace of reluctance in Quinn’s hands or mouth; his skill had been a revelation to sheltered Kate, who had heretofore been the recipient of only shy pecks from her few male admirers. He was tender and sweet, yet as exciting as a summer storm.

  K
ate had surrendered completely, letting Quinn sweep her into previously unknown regions of bliss.

  She knew then she had been made for this man. Her mouth fitted his exactly, her body had slid onto his lap with nary a gap between them as they sought to grow closer. Shafts of exhilaration had arrowed through her being as he darted his tongue between her lips, over and over, in a seductive mirror of the mating dance. Kate’s insides had melted as his skilled mouth beguiled her.

  She remained confused and devastated by Quinn’s rejection. His rebuff had come so closely on the heels of that scorching kiss, which had blazed a trail straight to her heart, while opening a whole new world of pleasure. She now craved his touch as much as her heart needed his love. The memory of his tongue easing into her mouth was enough to spark the most romantic dreams. Recalling his tender embrace encouraged yet bewildered her. How could he touch her in that manner if he didn’t care? And if he cared, why had he become so very angry when she suggested marriage?

  She realized that her early impressions of Quinn had been false. As a child sees an elder, she had not previously appreciated the depths of his character.

  She had viewed him merely as another amiable, good-humored fribble. He had taken care of her business by referring matters to his secretary and gone about his fashionable life without a misstep.

  The day at Hampton Court had been profoundly enlightening on several levels. Kate now saw Quinn’s intensity. There was nothing of the frivolous fop when he took her chin in his hand to claim what was undeniably his.

  But why had he denied her?

  Some misbegotten notion of honor, perhaps. Men were notoriously touchy about the subject, and perhaps that prevented him from taking more from her, even when she offered herself freely.