Miss Hillary Schools a Scoundrel

by Samantha Grace

  “I don’t want to dance with other gentlemen,” she grumbled as he propelled her back toward the crowd.

  It was Drew’s turn to feel triumphant. He didn’t want any other man near her either, even though he was loath to admit it.

  Seventeen

  Rich and Phoebe huddled together beside the mahogany desk, waiting for Drew when he entered the study. Drew groaned. He was in for another lecture, an undeserved one given he’d restrained himself with Lana yesterday.

  Phoebe stood with arms akimbo. The weight of the baby growing within her caused her to arch her back.

  Drew crossed the room and bent down to speak directly to her tummy, which allowed him to avoid eye contact with either of them.

  “How’s baby today? Uncle Drew can’t wait to teach you all sorts of fun things.”

  When he finally looked up, Phoebe’s face had softened and her hands instinctively caressed the top of her stomach.

  “I’ve never seen you look more beautiful, Pheebs,” he said and meant it.

  Rich cleared his throat. “Do you mind removing your hands from my wife?”

  Drew wandered to a vacant chair and collapsed onto the soft cushion. “Funny how you’re always telling me what I cannot touch, old man. You’re worse than Mother when we were little boys and weren’t allowed to finger the figurines.”

  “And you never learned the lesson.”

  Drew rested his right foot on his left knee and slouched in the seat. “Shall I start the lecture for you? Let’s see… I’m acting irresponsibly. I’m a threat to all young women. I’m a disgrace to the family. What is it today?”

  Phoebe’s eyes clouded with disappointment, making him feel like a cur. “Oh, Drew, you are not a disgrace. We all love you very much.”

  “Speak for yourself, love,” Rich groused. “Drew, you know why we’re talking to you. I asked you to stay away from Miss Hillary, but instead she is the only female receiving any of your notice.”

  “And you’re worried a riot will break out amongst my jealous admirers?”

  His brother’s face darkened. A tirade would soon follow, but Phoebe intervened to keep the peace again.

  “We are worried about Lana. We don’t want to see her hurt.”

  “Neither do I, Pheebs.” He didn’t, so he had used every ounce of his willpower not to bed her. She would be easy prey, but the thought of manipulating her, using her for his pleasure, sickened him.

  “But all this attention…” Phoebe argued. “Surely she will come to the conclusion your intentions are honorable.”

  Drew’s hands gripped the armrests. “Are you implying I have dishonorable intentions?”

  “That’s not what she is saying,” Rich said. “You are sending the message you want more from Miss Hillary, and an innocent young woman will assume that is marriage.”

  “You don’t know anything about Miss Hillary’s thinking.” Neither did he, for that matter, but surely he had been clear with her. “She is not expecting a marriage proposal from me.”

  Phoebe drew in her breath. “You and she… You didn’t… Oh, Drew. Please, tell me you didn’t.”

  Had his sister-in-law lost her mind? “Rest assured, our association is purely platonic. Nothing more.”

  Richard snorted. “When have you ever regarded a woman as anything other than a conquest?”

  Drew shot out of the chair. “For starters there’s Mother, then Gabby, Liz, and Katie.” He slapped his hand down in his upturned palm with each name to emphasize his point.

  “Family doesn’t count,” Rich said.

  “Don’t forget Phoebe.” Drew stalked to the door. “And I’m telling you Lana fits in that category.”

  “Lana? You’re on a first-name basis now?” Rich started after him, but Phoebe grabbed his arm.

  “Let him go,” she murmured.

  Rich spun to face her. “Why?”

  “Just let him be, Richard.”

  Drew didn’t need any other invitation to leave their company. He bolted from his brother’s study and slammed the door behind him.

  On his way to Irvine Castle, Drew slumped in the saddle, blindly staring at the rutted lane. What if his brother and Phoebe were correct and Lana expected an offer of marriage? He had rarely met a woman who didn’t hope for something more than a wild romp.

  Perhaps God created females too differently. Even when they thought they wanted nothing, a part of them couldn’t help contemplating the future. Either that or the women Drew had known had hoped to change his mind over time, but it had never happened.

  A groom met him in the stable yard. “Will you be joining the hunt today, my lord?”

  “Not today.”

  Drew joined the other guests milling around the buffet tables inside the castle. He and Lana had formed an easy camaraderie. Granted, she stirred his lust often enough, but he found her amiable as well. She deserved better treatment than he seemed capable of doling out. Lana had a right to love, to have a home, a family if she wished. She would never have any of those things with Drew.

  Pushing his plate away with a loud exhale, he stood a beat before Lana glided through the doorway. Her flaming tresses fell from her coiffure already, and tendrils framed her pretty face. She’d donned a green walking gown but had removed her bonnet. A dazzling smile lit her features, and she wandered toward him.

  “Good morning, my lord.” Her ever-changing eyes were green this morning, and they sparkled with delight. “I believe you’re slowly abandoning your corrupt habits. Early to bed and early to rise. Don’t tell me you are becoming respectable.” She feigned a shudder.

  “Would that bother you overmuch, Miss Hillary?” He studied her countenance for signs of optimism and detected a flicker of what he believed to be hope.

  “To each his own,” she responded, a teasing gleam in her eyes. “Do you have any covert meetings planned for us today, my lord?”

  His gut clenched with regret. Lana was his for the taking, but he couldn’t bring himself to collect his prize. Drew must end what he’d set into motion.

  “I’m afraid you must proceed without me, Miss Hillary. I’m joining the hunt. Good day.” He brushed past her in his haste to escape before he changed his mind.

  ***

  “It’s your turn, Miss Hillary.” Lady Audley’s impatience showed. This was the fourth time one of the ladies reminded Lana to play her hand since she’d sat down for a round of whist.

  “My apologies.” Lana absentmindedly tossed a card on the table and lost the hand. Thoughts of Drew and his cool greeting preoccupied her mind. What could have transpired between last night and this morning to change his manner toward her? As far as she recalled, she hadn’t said anything remotely upsetting.

  Lana shifted on the chair. She had spoken freely with him, but he had to know she teased, didn’t he?

  She threw another card at random before lying her cards face down on the table. “I’m afraid I am not much challenge today, ladies. Perhaps you would excuse me from the game?”

  Lady Benton offered a gracious smile. “Certainly, Miss Hillary.”

  “I believe I will concede as well,” Lady Audley announced and stood when Lana did. When Lana moved away, the widow fell into step with her. “Would you care to stroll through the gardens, Miss Hillary?”

  Lana wanted to decline, but she didn’t have the energy to create an adequate excuse. She followed the widow through the glass doors and down the stone stairs to the garden.

  They walked in silence for several minutes until Lady Audley disturbed the peace. “You seem rather glum, Miss Hillary. I hope all is well.”

  “Thank you. I’m feeling a little under the weather, but I’m certain I shall be fit again soon.”

  They wound their way through the purple and white phlox-lined path. Lana glanced sideways at the widow. She was breathtaking, more beautiful than Lana could ever hope to become. And yet, Drew had ended their relationship.

  Lady Audley’s soft voice broke into her thoughts. “He does tha
t. Makes you feel like your feet will never touch the ground again before sending you crashing back to earth.”

  She stopped and stared, trying to determine her companion’s motivations. Lady Audley returned her gaze with sadness shining in her blue eyes.

  Lana didn’t pretend to misunderstand. It seemed too unkind. “My heart goes out to you. I believe Lord Andrew has hurt you more than he realizes.”

  Why didn’t the widow notice how Jake held her in such high esteem? Lana’s brother would cherish the lady if given the chance. They fell into step again as Lana debated broaching the subject of her brother.

  “I know your assessment of Lord Andrew is correct, Miss Hillary.”

  “Please, call me Lana.”

  The corners of the lady’s lips curved gently. “Thank you, Lana. I would like it if you referred to me by my given name as well. Out of curiosity, are you familiar with the tale of the lamb and the snake?”

  “I believe I might have heard it long ago. Please, remind me.”

  “A lamb discovered a snake while walking in the field. He had been trampled, and he gasped for breath, his body broken. Feeling compassion for this dangerous creature, the lamb gently carried him to safety. Day and night she tended the injured serpent and grew to love him.”

  Lana bit her lower lip. She recalled the tale with more clarity, and it did not have a happy conclusion.

  “The lamb was pleased with her efforts to nurse the snake back to health, and one day the snake regained his former strength. As the lamb reached to tend him, he mortally struck her. The lamb felt such deep betrayal. ‘How could you strike me? I’ve nursed you back to health. I’ve loved you and treated you with such kindness. How could you do this to me?’ With no malice, he said—”

  “I’m a snake,” Lana finished, a frown on her face. “Do you truly believe it’s Lord Andrew’s nature to hurt anyone who tries to love him?”

  “I think it’s within the nature of women to hope otherwise, but history suggests men like Lord Andrew are incapable of love or fidelity.” Amelia stopped to rub her fingers over the petals of a red rose before breathing in the light scent. “Miss Hillary, you are a beautiful, intelligent woman. Your future awaits you. Don’t toss your chances of securing a match by dallying with Lord Andrew. He will hurt you in the end.”

  In the face of Amelia’s sadness, Lana couldn’t help but to feel sympathy. “I suppose you are warning me he is not worth it.”

  The lady’s hand dropped back to her side. “I wish I could convince myself this is true. But it isn’t too late for you. At least I don’t think it is.”

  Her response didn’t bring Lana peace. Amelia obviously believed Drew had been worth the heartache. How was Lana to turn away from her heart’s desire?

  Eighteen

  Drew berated himself for having agreed to chaperone his sister for the duration of the stay at Irvine Castle, but he couldn’t bow out. Gabby had kept her part of the agreement. Just because Drew had changed his mind about Lana didn’t mean he would break his word.

  His sister dragged him to the great hall where their mother had planned another dance. Women were always anxious to dance, but he supposed a waltz provided the only proper excuse for a lady to get close to a gentleman. The double standard hardly seemed fair.

  Irritation swelled within him as no less than five gentlemen, those bloody rakehells Brookhaven and Fielding included, raced to reach Gabby first without trying to look too conspicuous. On second thought, the rules governing ladies’ behavior worked well. He’d not like any of the men touching his sister outside of the ballroom. He didn’t especially appreciate their eager attentiveness in the ballroom either. Drew crossed his arms and glowered, imitating the look his brother often bestowed on him.

  The lucky gentleman to reach Gabby first beamed, but one glance at Drew tempered his enthusiasm. “My lord, might I request your sister’s dance card?”

  Drew deferred to Gabby. He would not assume his sister wished him to make her decisions, given her strong opinions on certain matters.

  “I would be honored, Lord Holt.”

  One by one the gentlemen made the same request until her card had filled. Gabby didn’t turn away a single suitor, much to Drew’s discontent.

  Before her first dance, he drew her close to murmur in her ear. “Make Brookhaven and Fielding behave, princess, or else I will settle the matter on the morrow.”

  Her face paled. “You wouldn’t dare challenge either gentleman. I’m telling Mama.”

  “Mama couldn’t stop me, or Rich for that matter, if any gent treated you improperly. Now, make them behave and save me an early wakening. You know I don’t care for mornings.”

  Gabby rolled her eyes. “Cease your fretting. Mama watches me like a hawk. I’ll not do anything to make her swoop down and snatch away my chance to be presented next season. Go dance with Lana. I’m properly chaperoned.”

  She nodded toward an alcove where both parents vigilantly stood watch. So much for having his parents’ trust. It was just as well. Perhaps he could leave the ballroom early and put these past several days behind him. He could return to London on the morrow and forget all about Lana and his ridiculous yearnings.

  Misleading her had been cruel. When he had set out to prove to himself he could bed her, he hadn’t considered her feelings in the matter. Self-loathing churned in his belly, and he turned on his heel to escape the ballroom, but he glanced over his shoulder before he reached the double doors. He wished to see Lana one last time, before she belonged to another. He scanned the crowd, his heart skipping when he located her.

  Lana sat along the outskirts of the room as if she wished to go unnoticed. Longing flooded through him, and that horrible emptiness that had plagued him these last few weeks returned. He’d hated every minute of hunting today. The one occasion when he glimpsed the fox all he could think of was Lana’s fiery locks falling around her face. Staying away from her had ripped his insides out, and he didn’t want to walk away now.

  This evening she wore an emerald and cream gown that displayed her assets to great advantage. Drew’s breeches tightened, and he forced his gaze from her. Hell’s teeth. He was a man of four and twenty, not a green boy without mastery over his body.

  He stalked to the refreshment room. Requiring something stronger than punch, he poured a glass of port, downing it in one gulp. He poured another and attempted to conjure the least arousing things he could imagine—dividing 476 into 8,982; sitting on the church pew next to Mother; rolling dice with Norwick.

  His mind refused to cooperate with the distractions, and his thoughts strayed back to Lana. What if he could love her? Perhaps his interest wouldn’t wane as he feared. He had held no desire for any other woman since his arrival in Northumberland, since the Eldridge ball if he were to be honest. Was it outrageous to believe he possessed the same capacity to love as his father loved his mother and Rich loved Phoebe?

  When he gained better control over his body, he returned to the ballroom to seek out Lana where he’d spotted her earlier, but the chair was empty. Alarmed, his gaze darted around the ballroom until he discovered her in Bollrud’s arms. She tilted her head and bestowed a flirtatious grin upon her dance partner.

  Fire raged in Drew’s belly, and he shoved his fists to his side. He had no right to rip her from Bollrud’s arms, but he would bloody well like to make it his right. When the dance ended, Drew weaved through the guests loitering around the dance floor, attempting to intercept her. Before he could claim Lana, another gentleman approached then led her on the floor. She beamed at him as well when they moved into position.

  Bollrud sauntered over to Drew, looking extremely confident. “I have to thank you, Forest. It appears your advice to court Miss Hillary’s mother is working to my advantage. The young lady’s manner toward me has warmed considerably. I believe the time has come to offer for her hand.” The bugger chuckled as he moved past.

  When the music ended, Drew practically sprinted to Lana before anyone else could re
ach her. Taking her arm, he escorted her back onto the floor.

  “This dance is mine, peach.” He didn’t leave any room for misinterpretation. He wasn’t making a request.

  “Of course, Drew,” she purred, catching him off guard. He had expected her to respond with anger, or at least irritation. Instead, she smiled and glanced at him from beneath her lashes. “I thought you would never make your way to me tonight.”

  Lana’s eyes darkened to the color of a lush forest as she snuggled closer to him. Hell’s teeth! She had deliberately made him jealous.

  “You know exactly what you’re doing to me,” he growled.

  “Do I?” She fluttered her lashes like the most experienced coquette. “You are difficult to read sometimes, my lord. Please, enlighten me. Tell me what it is I’m doing to you.”

  Challenge rang clear in her words. How could his unspoiled peach behave in such a brazen fashion?

  Her lips brushed his earlobe. “Maybe it is better if you show me,” she whispered.

  His body sprang to attention again, and there would be no way to tamp down his passion with her in his arms.

  “Meet me outside by the maze entrance in ten minutes. We have much to discuss.” He led her to the sidelines then darted from the hall.

  ***

  Lana gaped at Drew’s back as he stalked from the ballroom. Had she just agreed to meet him in the garden or had he simply assumed her a willing partner?

  Double drat, what have I done?

  Following her discussion with Lady Audley, thoughts of Drew had absorbed her afternoon. Lana had mentally debated the merits of a continued association with Drew. She had even confiscated a sheet of foolscap and found a quiet corner to create a list of pros and cons comparing him to Bollrud before burning it in a grate.

  At the conclusion, Bollrud’s cons outnumbered those in Drew’s column, but Drew’s one negative was insurmountable. He didn’t want a wife. In her mind, she had thought the matter decided. She would accept Lord Bollrud’s offer when he made it. Yet, when Lana had dressed for the evening, she’d chosen a gown to please Drew.