Romancing the Rogue

by Kim Bowman

  Ewan started slightly. He had all but forgotten about her presence. He turned towards the dear woman and tried to act the unconcerned rogue. “Yes, well, he’s unsuitable. A rake, rogue… whatever you call the unsavory characters that prowl about, these days.” He lifted his hand in a dismissive gesture toward Shiply.

  “Yes, and you yourself are nothing of the sort?” she asked as her eyebrows rose.

  He understood his hypocrisy as she gave him a disbelieving look. No. He wasn’t any better. However, he wasn’t the one trying to woo Grace, attempting to seduce her to his bed, make love to her until the far reaches of the morning…

  What am I thinking? His mind spun out of control imagining Grace in all those situations with him. The air was warmer, so he pulled on his collar. Then he also fought the urge to loosen his cravat.

  His eyes never left her twirling body, and he physically responded to her curves. Cursing, he looked away, willing his body to calm and forbidding his mind to think of her tempting body pressed against his. As he searched for a distraction, he noticed Lady Jarvais watching him with a curious expression on her face before it lit up in an understanding smile.

  “You’re jealous.” She spoke the words with awe. She looked thrilled.

  Ewan felt his stomach drop. No, he couldn’t be jealous. Could he? But admitting she was correct would require him to acknowledge all the twisting emotions within his gut, and he refused to do that.

  No, he was not jealous. Annoyed, certainly. Straightening his collar, he faced Lady Jarvais. “I am nothing of the sort.”

  Glancing back at the dance floor, he saw Grace give Shiply a flirtatious smile. His insides burned with a hot rage. Perhaps he was jealous, although he would never admit it out loud. Ever.

  “You are so. It’s written across your face, clear as day,” Lady Jarvais remarked, still marveling. “You know, I saw this coming,” she added with an arrogant grin full of trouble. The way she tilted her chin reminded him of Grace.

  “You most certainly did not, because it is not happening. I’m not jealous!” He glanced up and muttered, “Especially of that arrogant cad, Shiply.”After a moment he added, “Lady Grace has far more sense than to fall for the likes of that sort.” He huffed, hoping he sounded more convincing than he felt.

  “Ah, and you’d be far better for her than Shiply.” Lady Jarvais’s green eyes twinkled as she challenged his claim.

  “Of course. Anyone would,” he replied with little patience. Hadn’t he already said as much?

  “Good. Then I trust you to make sure she’ll be safe.” She watched him expectantly.

  “Excuse me?” He looked at her as if she had lost all sense. What could she mean? As an available gentleman, he couldn’t act as chaperon, nor would he want to, but Lady Jarvais knew that. Trepidation seeped into his chest as he watched Lady Jarvais grin.

  “Yes, Lord Jarvais is gone for business on our country estate in Sussex. He won’t be back until a week before the Kringle Ball. Her brothers are all busy with their own families. There are only us two who can look out for poor Lady Grace.”

  With a touch of her fan on his shoulder, she continued, “I won’t be able to be everywhere at once, so I’m enlisting your help. As a longtime family friend who has Lady Grace’s best interests at heart, I trust you to make sure she is safe from this unsavory Shiply character.” She said ‘Shiply’ with mock terror as she widened her grin, not enough to mock him openly, but enough to issue a challenge — a challenge he was sure to take on, regardless of how his head told him to walk away.

  Ewan watched Lady Jarvais’s face, trying to determine if she was in earnest or if she was trying to ferret out a reaction to affirm her suspicions. Could she be serious? Keep an eye on Grace? Although it wouldn’t be difficult — he had always kept an eye on her — the thought of deliberately watching her flirt with Shiply, or anyone else for that matter, set his stomach on edge. However, if his present state of emotional upheaval remained constant, he would find himself watching her, regardless. He might as well have a good reason for his actions.

  Better to live in denial for a bit longer, he decided.

  “Fine, I’ll help. But don’t expect me to be gentle about it. She’s far too headstrong for her own good. And you…” he glared at her, knowing it would fall short, “must tell her that I am responsible for her as well, so she won’t fight my help or interference should it be required.” Ewan nodded and folded his arms across his chest, causing the fabric of his evening coat to tense across his shoulders.

  Hearing a collective feminine sigh, he looked over to see a few older widows tracing his body with their eyes, clearly giving their imaginations free rein. Ewan favored them with a wink and suppressed a laugh when the eldest tossed him a wink in return. He turned away before he invited more trouble than he needed and returned his attention to Lady Jarvais. She cast a glance heavenward before she gave him an impatient look that told him she had seen his antics and was unimpressed.

  “La, of course, dear. I’ll take care of it,” she cooed as she walked away without a care, leaving a brooding Ewan behind.

  He was losing his touch. Two women in one evening, and neither had been affected in the least by his famous stare-down. He’d have to practice, especially if he was to be protecting Grace from a possible seduction by Shiply.

  At least now he could easily explain his intervention with Grace’s affairs. Perhaps the sudden onslaught of bedroom fantasies where Grace was concerned would subside. Odd for them to start; he’d never had this problem before. What was it? He had never been the jealous sort.

  After adjusting his collar once more, he nodded to Lady Jarvais, who had paused and was watching him. He took his leave, picking a spot from which he could watch Grace the rest of the evening, trying not to wonder what she would look like wearing nothing but that delicious smile.

  Chapter Two

  Grace tried not to stare at the masculine glory that was less than a foot away from her. Though the cotillion didn’t afford much time for speaking, when they had engaged in conversation, she found herself grinning with delight. Shiply. Why had she never met him before?

  As if reading her mind, he spoke. “You’re most likely wondering where I’ve been.” He cast her a mischievous grin that warmed her insides.

  “Of course! I don’t remember ever seeing you before.” She smiled as he moved with her in the dance. And certainly she would remember if she had. She would remember anyone who could distract her from Ewan.

  “That’s because you haven’t. I left my beloved England about three years ago and have toured the wonders of Italy, Holland, Denmark.”

  The dance separated them, after a moment he continued.

  “It was delightful. So much culture.” His eyes were fixed ahead as if remembering the sights, reliving the memories.

  Grace loved the way his eyes squinted when he was deep in thought; the effect was decidedly enticing. Everything about Shiply attracted her. It was a beloved distraction from her prickly temperament around Ewan.

  She found herself enjoying the conversation immensely because it was far less work than trying to constantly one-up her partner. As the dance finished, he escorted her from the dance floor.

  “What was your favorite place you visited?” Grace asked with acute curiosity.

  A grin turned up the corner of his lips slightly. “Holland. All the dykes, windmills and the tulips… my.” He paused. “The tulips were astounding. Fields and fields of colors that seemed to run off into the sunset.” His eyes were distant for a moment before he turned to her once again, smiling.

  Grace tried to imagine the sight. “It sounds magnificent.” She sighed, wishing she could see it for herself.

  “It was, but I’ve seen far more beautiful sights. Especially recently.” His eyes held a smoldering quality she’d seen before in Ewan when he was teasing, but the effect was far less pronounced in Lord Shiply.

  Her cheeks burned at his implication. She glanced down at her sage green gown
and brushed imaginary lines from it while her cheeks cooled.

  A moment passed while she gathered her wits, and she glanced up at her companion. “La, you are a bit of a rogue aren’t you, Lord Shiply?” She offered a smile, hoping she was flirting properly.

  “I’ll let you decide, Lady Grace. Perhaps you need some more time to make your decision?” he asked, eyebrows raised. “Would a walk in Hyde Park be acceptable in helping you determine whether I’m of the good sort?” he asked, revealing the playful nature Grace had suspected.

  “I believe that will be acceptable, if I must,” Grace replied, thrilled he was making an effort to see her again. Perhaps he was truly her rescuer, the one who could finally take her heart away from the unsuspecting Ewan.

  His eyes darkened as he spoke in honeyed tones. “Oh, yes, Lady Grace, you must. I insist.” Grace didn’t have a chance to respond before he straightened, backed up slightly, bowed, and left.

  Grace watched his retreating form with a smile. A few other debutantes watched him pass by with longing expressions. With a deep breath, Grace began to turn, only to walk into a hard, broad chest.

  Warm hands gripped her upper arms and held her steady, averting an otherwise certain tumble backward. Her heart leaped for a moment at the intimate contact. Even with gloves covering the large masculine hands, the touch sent shivers of delight through her. Without looking up, she knew who held her captive. Before she realized what she was doing, she inhaled deeply the scent of warmed cinnamon that came from his body, the scent she had associated with him since their first waltz.

  When he didn’t release her, she risked a glance up into Ewan’s face. His blue eyes darkened and burned her insides with their heated desire. Grace searched his then, looking for a trace of authenticity to the blatant desire within their depths. But before she could allow herself to hope, she forced herself to take a step back out of his embrace.

  Ewan’s hands quickly dropped from her arms, as if scalded by touching her. With a slight shake of his head, he said impatiently, “You should stay away from him.”

  His words shattered her traitorous heart’s wild beating. Ewan’s scolding tone caused her to once again erect the walls around her heart.

  Grace reverted into her usual banter with Ewan before he suspected her fevered emotions. She tilted her chin up and prepared to battle. Of all the arrogant things to say! Why should he care whom she danced with? He had never minded before.

  She knew better than to suspect his intervention to come from any sort of jealousy. Why did he have to meddle in her life? Why couldn’t he simply leave her alone? Perhaps then she could forget him, his scent, and the feel of his hands, long gone but still tingling on her flesh. The very thought of his hands touching her caused her to take a deep breath, but she forced herself to recover quickly.

  “Oh? And why, pray tell?” She placed one gloved hand over her hip and barely resisted the urge to smack him with her fan.

  With a snort that implied his disgust with her question, he shook his head slightly before offering her a patronizing look. Angry, Grace balled her fists. Oh, why did he provoke such strong reactions from her?

  “Because he’s a rake,” Ewan stated confidently, as if that answered her question with complete clarity.

  Unamused, Grace offered a patronizing look of her own. “Well that’s calling the kettle black, if I ever heard it.” Her annoyance was evident in her tone, and she waited for a more intelligent answer from Ewan.

  “He’s a bad rake, the worst sort,” he stated again, his expression conveying irritation that she hadn’t gleaned that information from him the first time. His gaze softened and grew concerned.

  Her belly stirred slightly, but she steeled herself against the traitorous reaction. He had no reason to meddle in her life “And you’re a patron saint?”

  “Compared to him, yes.” Ewan nodded, clearly pleased that she had finally understood.

  “I find that hard to believe,” Grace mumbled.

  “Believe it,” Ewan responded confidently.

  “And how would you know? Grace asked, exasperated with the topic.

  ~~~~

  Ewan locked eyes with Grace, sensing a battle. Why was she so stubborn? He was trying to protect her! Of all the ungrateful, selfish, mesmerizing… Oh, why did she have to look at him like that? Her eyes were narrowed and flashing fire.

  After nearly knocking her over, his body still hadn’t recovered from the close contact. Her scent reminded him of the heady fragrance of hothouse roses and citrus trees. Her soft flesh had burned through the fabric of his gloves in a way that left him straining against his desire to lean down and taste her lips. When she had looked up he felt as if the music in the background leading others in dance was rather punctuating their own private moment. The soft green of her eyes had changed and burned with a shocking desire that left him trembling with fear when he saw himself reflected her clear eyes.

  She could be his undoing, and the fear he saw in her eyes reminded him that he could hurt her as easily as she could hurt him. The realization was sobering. He removed his hands quickly as she backed away. The moment he stepped away, he relived those profound moments, which caused him to glance at her lips once more. With a shake his head, he distracted himself. He needed a new tactic to help Grace understand the severity of the situation, so she would refuse any further attentions from the earl.

  “I’m simply looking out for your welfare, Grace. Your mother agrees with me, I’ll have you know. Stay away from Shiply,” he commanded, hoping she wouldn’t question him any further, because her mother hadn’t in fact, told her to stay away from Shiply. No, that was his little addition.

  “My mother?” Grace asked with a disbelieving tone.

  “Yes, she said you needed some additional looking after…” He trailed off at the sight of the fury building in her eyes.

  “What?” Grace all but yelled, drawing attention to their heated conversation.

  He wanted to hit his head against a wall, repeatedly. Of all the foolish things to say! Could anything go right tonight? It had been going blissfully perfect until Shiply showed up, making him feel things, realize things he’d rather not have known. Ignorance truly was bliss. “I didn’t mean to imply that you—”

  “No, no, no! You didn’t imply anything! What you said was that I was too young and naive to figure out for myself who I wish to spend time with!” Her eyes squinted.

  “No, I simply stated that since Lord Shiply was of the rakish sort that I wanted to make sure you were protected—” Ewan tried to explain.

  “From Lord Shiply? I’ve had to guard myself more around you in the past moments than in the few minutes I’ve danced with Lord Shiply!”

  Her outburst re-played in slow motion in his mind. She had to protect herself from him? Why? He had never, or at least never intended — or well, had he? Would the new and fresh emotions never end this night? He wanted to go home and lose himself in a nice vintage of brandy and forget all the mixed feelings of the evening.

  Bewildered, he took in Grace’s rapid breathing, which allowed him a perfect view of her bosom. With a herculean effort on his part, he looked up. “Me?” He searched her gaze for a moment.

  “Never mind. I’m leaving.” Grace spun on her slippers and left.

  Chapter Three

  “Lady Grace? You have a gentleman caller,” Taite notified Grace as she waited in her library for Shiply to arrive and take her for their ride in the park. She didn’t even ask who had come calling, but she nodded to her butler and descended the stairs to find Ewan’s eyes following her.

  “You?” Grace asked, confused by his presence. Why was he here? He didn’t often visit her at home — in fact, she couldn’t remember him ever calling upon her at her home. Suspicious, she walked over to him.

  “Come now, Grace. Is that any way to greet a guest?” He shook his head in a scolding fashion.

  Could he be serious? After their argument last night, she had thought he was only referring t
o the time they spent at social functions, not her private life. This was a disaster in the making. How was she ever going to focus on Shiply when Ewan loomed in the background like a sinfully beautiful guardian angel?

  Collecting herself, she began to apologize for her rude comment, only to be waved off.

  Ewan paced slowly across the foyer floor, his boots making muted thuds along the tiles. His dark lashes concealed his blue eyes just enough to distract Grace from being able to concentrate.

  ~~~~

  The moment Grace descended the stairs, Ewan knew he was in trouble. Not only did she not want his presence, which he had expected. But also, she looked far too beautiful to be out with Shiply in the company of only a maid. The realization hardened his resolve to be the wedge between them in any way possible. He again wasn’t willing to examine just why; he simply knew it was necessary.

  As Grace began to apologize for her lack of manners, he waved her off and began to explain his plan, knowing she wouldn’t be thrilled, but he was determined, nonetheless.

  “You’re expecting Shiply, I know. I spoke with him after you left and informed him that I was concerned with his reputation, and I notified him that I was a family friend looking out for your best interest. He let me know that he was going to walk with you this morning. I requested that I come along. Unorthodox, I know, but given Shiply’s character, I felt a more masculine presence would be safer than the simple presence of a maid, although I’m sure you should have one accompany us as well.”

  A tall maid entered the room and stood to the side, waiting to accompany Grace. As Ewan turned his attention back to Grace, he noticed the crimson hue of her cheeks, not from embarrassment, but from anger.

  Ewan waited for the inevitable explosion of Grace’s temper. But he was firm in his decision, and he refused to admit the reason why. He broadened his stance, knowing Grace would be rather upset. He admired her passion and spirit. He always had.