Love and the Shameless Lady (Scandalous Kisses Book 3)
Page 18
“You scarcely know me.” And it’s going to stay that way. Why must he say such things? She wasn’t impervious to compliments, and coming from an attractive gentleman, they had an unwanted effect along with the welcome one.
“I’m a good judge of character.” A rueful expression crossed his face, as if he weren’t quite sure if this was true. So . . . it was just flattery.
How dispiriting, even though it shouldn’t be. They had reached her bedchamber. She whirled away in case he tried kissing her for effect again, found all three volumes of The Lady’s Revenge, and proffered them to him. Now he had no excuse for coming to her room again.
He shook his head. “I’ll take one volume at a time.”
“For heaven’s sake, why?”
“So I will have more opportunities to kiss you.”
“Tsk.” She glanced up and down the passageway. “Why bother? There’s no one here.”
“Precisely.” He pulled her close and lowered his lips to hers, and she should have resisted, but she didn’t. In one hand she clutched the books, and she brought the other between them, pressed against his chest, but she didn’t push him away.
Because it felt so very good. His hot breath, the sweetness of his lips moving on hers, the teasing movement of his tongue, tempting her to open her mouth beneath his.
Desire shimmered through her, all the way to her core.
She broke away. Her heart drummed, and she was breathless and most likely flushed. How annoying, because he couldn’t help but notice her response.
She stepped back. “That was unnecessary, Sir Julian. There’s no point in kissing me to prove we’re betrothed if there’s no one to witness us.”
“We don’t need to prove that. Everyone already believes us.” He smiled. “I kissed you because I wanted to, and you seemed to enjoy it, too.”
Yes, far too much, but she didn’t intend to discuss that. “Our association, Sir Julian, is not for the purpose of enjoyment. It’s to save my life. Kindly take these books and leave.”
He sighed gustily, accepted the books, and turned away.
Daisy shut the door. She was halfway across the room when she heard a strange sound. She whirled, to see the second and third volumes of The Lady’s Revenge lying on the floor. He had pushed them underneath the door!
Drat the man, why? Because he wanted to kiss her again—and she knew full well where that might lead. He’d said he wouldn’t seduce her . . . No, he’d said he wouldn’t do anything she didn’t want. And there was no doubt about it, she wanted him in a very physical way.
But wanting something and doing it were entirely different propositions, and she wasn’t a foolish eighteen-year-old anymore. If he wanted the next volumes, he would have to take them without a kiss.
Maybe he wouldn’t need them at all. She would make the list he had suggested, and she would also dredge her memory for what had inspired the bracelet in the first place. The only way to get rid of him, of the danger he presented to her comfort and peace of mind, was to take control and solve this mystery herself.
Thus fortified, she seated herself at the writing desk, took out pen, ink, and paper, and set to work. She had to refer constantly to her copy of The Lady’s Ruin. Just because she’d written it, didn’t mean she remembered every little detail or the sequence in which events had taken place! She rang for coffee and rock buns and persevered, despite having to mend her pen twice.
Soon the list of charms, and where they were lost, was in excellent shape. Only a few were described in the book, since they were too small for any detail to matter.
Candlestick — London
Crown — Cambridge
Goddess — Melton Mowbray
Medieval Triptych — Scarborough
Bones (like the crossed bones of a pirate flag) — Newcastle
Rose — York
Queen (in a plant pot) — Manchester
Book — Shrewsbury
Vase — Oxford
The only charm with a suspicious connection was the crossed bones, but most of the other towns were not on the coast, so a tie to piracy made no sense.
Onward to The Lady’s Revenge, which she’d written more recently and therefore remembered better. In the first volume, Dianthus sailed via a smuggling vessel to France, to rescue her mother’s aristo-turned-prostitute friend, Cécile. The two adventuresome ladies then collaborated first to recover the candlestick charm from London. On the way to Cambridge, they detoured to Huntingdon for Cécile’s sake, to play highwaymen in a daring recovery of a parure that had been stolen from the Bourbons in France.
At this point, Cécile proved a bit deceptive, for she’d led Dianthus on by intimating that she knew how to recover the crown charm, but she’d had it in her possession all the time, having gained it by some convoluted process which Daisy didn’t bother explaining in the book. Which was sheer laziness, Daisy knew, but she’d been in a hurry to get to the end.
Having forgiven Cécile, for she couldn’t help but sympathize with another determined woman with a goal, Dianthus set out on her own to recover the rest. Over the years, the goddess had gone from Melton Mowbray to a used goods shop in Leicester. Dianthus purchased this easily enough. Chuffed with herself, she became too confident, and was almost caught stealing the triptych charm in Scarborough.
Hence to Newcastle, where she bought the crossbones charm, and then York, where she attempted to buy the rose. The lecherous owner demanded her virtue in return, so she stole it instead, and was chased through the moonlit ruins, not, as she’d suspected, by the irate lecher, but by a dashing smuggler.
Love at first sight warring with distrust in her heart, she teamed up with the smuggler, who also happened to have a grudge against the evil monster who’d ruined her mother and now possessed the queen charm. The writer’s greatest weapon, coincidence!
The chess set here at Garrison House had been the inspiration for that charm, but so what? And the lovely old Book of Hours in the Dower House might have inspired the charm in the form of a book, although she doubted it. It was Gloriana’s favorite book, and she hadn’t thought much about Gloriana in the last year or so, as if that friendship, or the loss of it, had been pushed far to the back of her mind.
Her memory stubbornly refused to disgorge anything useful, which was no surprise, despite Sir Julian’s supposed confidence in her. Was that a ploy to lure her into bed with him? He must know by now that the usual sort of compliment wouldn’t move her.
She mustn’t think about him, about his compliments and kisses. She rang for a maid and dressed for dinner in a soft but rather dull green gown of excellent cut. She wouldn’t disgrace Gloriana by appearing shabby, but nor would she attract attention. She made her way downstairs, wondering if the earl had arrived or if her cousin was still pacing up and down in anticipation.
No, Gloriana was now seated near the door, reading a book. She had somehow found time to change for dinner, had probably sent for the gown and her maid so as to leave the entryway for the shortest possible time. Surely it was beneath her dignity to hover at the door, and yet here she was, doggedly waiting for her suitor. It made no sense at all.
Sir Julian and the Marquis de Bellechasse entered the Great Hall from the billiard room, laughing together at some jest.
“Ah, there you are, my darling,” Sir Julian said.
Don’t compliment me. Please don’t.
He smiled. “You’re a sight to delight the eyes.”
Why must he exude such warmth and admiration? Daisy couldn’t combat it, couldn’t meet his gaze for fear she would succumb and actually believe him.
“Lovely as always,” the marquis said.
“Isn’t she?” Julian grinned. “I pride myself on such a conquest.”
“As you should,” the marquis said. “Daisy not only knows
how to dress with elegance and taste and is extremely accomplished on the pianoforte, but she can just as easily bake rock buns and serve ale with confidence and flair.”
From another man, that might have been an insult, but from the marquis it was not.
“A lady polymath,” Julian agreed, meaning one who was expert in a number of subjects.
Daisy rolled her eyes, but Gloriana rose to her feet and glared at the two men, especially at the marquis. “We are not in France, Monsieur de Bellechasse. Your horrid revolutionary notions do not belong here.”
“They do amongst the more intelligent of your sex,” the marquis drawled.
Now that was an insult. Julian appeared amused, but this was taking frankness too far for Daisy. “Marquis, you mustn’t defend me to Gloriana. She is entitled to her opinion. She and I have agreed to disagree.”
“My apologies, Miss Daisy. I did not seek to upset you. Next time I wish to insult Miss Gloriana, I shall do it when—”
He broke off at the sound of an arrival outdoors.
“At last!” Gloriana moved swiftly to check her appearance in the nearby pier-glass. “Reams, where are you?” She headed toward the door, then whirled to face the marquis. “Don’t you dare say anything to upset the earl, or I swear I shall kill you.”
“I tremble with fear,” the marquis retorted. “You need not worry, Miss Warren. The earl already knows my views, but he has no reason to blame you for them. You are the perfect aristocrat, unassociated with such dangerous scum as I.”
A muscle twitched next to one of Gloriana’s narrowed eyes, but she said nothing.
With a sardonic smile, the marquis wandered away, saying over his shoulder, “I’ll let Lord and Lady Garrison know the paragon has arrived.”
A few seconds later, the terrier Virtuoso hurtled across the Great Hall, heading for the front doors.
Gloriana shrieked. “I shut him in one of the salons. How did he get out?” She dove for the little dog, but Daisy got there first, scooping him up and holding him against her breast.
Gloriana’s bosom heaved. “Thank you.”
“I’ll shut him away again,” Daisy said, scratching the terrier between the ears.
Reams sailed up to open the massive front doors, and Gloriana followed him at her most stately.
On the way to the empty salon, Julian and Daisy exchanged a glance. “Yes, I think the marquis let him out.” Julian’s mouth twitched. “Foul little beast, he’s eyeing me as if I’m dinner.”
“Melinda told me Virtuoso has a habit of attacking strange men.”
The little dog wagged its tail cheerfully and licked Daisy’s chin.
“He seems to like you just fine.”
“Most dogs do. Imagine if he had bitten the earl! Why do you suppose Gloriana and the marquis dislike one another so much?”
“They attend some of the same salons in London where philosophic matters are discussed. I suppose they have learned to despise one another.”
Perhaps, but the venom in the marquis’s voice surprised her. “I suppose Gloriana’s rudeness invites a similar response.” She shut the dog into the empty salon.
Julian tucked her hand in his arm, and they headed slowly toward the front door. “What do you suggest? Shall we be awed and obsequious, icily supercilious, or merely bored?”
“I hope to be barely noticeable,” she said.
“Impossible,” he said. “You outshine everyone.”
“Stop it,” she hissed. “No more fatuous compliments, please.”
He halted. “They’re not fatuous. To my eyes, you do outshine every other woman.”
“I do wish you wouldn’t compliment me.” She was almost whining. How appalling. She glanced behind her. The marquis had fetched Lord and Lady Garrison from the drawing room. Good. After a swift introduction, she and Julian could withdraw into the background.
The Earl of Hythwick proved to be a well-dressed man of medium height, with a modish haircut and a complicated cravat. Gloriana was already on the drive, curtseying deeply, almost as to the king.
The earl doffed his hat, bowing punctiliously. “My dear Miss Warren, how delightful to see you again. But where are my host and hostess? Should they not be here to greet me?”
“A footman has gone to inform them of your arrival,” Gloriana said breathlessly. “They’ll be here any second.”
“Humph,” the earl said. “And who might this be?
She turned. “Oh, that’s only my brother’s friend, Sir Julian Kerr, and his wife.”
Chapter 10
For a stunned instant, Julian couldn’t believe his ears. His wife?
Next to him, Daisy stiffened, but the earl was already nodding. “Ah, yes, Sir Julian and I are acquainted. My felicitations, Sir Julian. I had not heard of your marriage. Pleased to meet you, Lady Kerr.” His haughty gaze moved from them to the doorway, where Lord and Lady Garrison had just emerged, followed by the Marquis de Bellechasse.
Judging by their expressions, all three had witnessed this exchange. A fraught silence hung in the air, during which time Julian, with difficulty, controlled himself. He didn’t give a damn about the pleading expression in Gloriana’s eyes, but he couldn’t possibly contradict her. The choice to do so, or not, was Daisy’s.
But Daisy said nothing, and the tense moment passed. Lord Garrison descended the stairs to shake the earl’s hand. Lady Garrison welcomed him, chattering cheerfully, and soon everyone trooped indoors.
Julian and Daisy took up the rear but hung back by common consent.
“Why the devil did she introduce us that way?” he whispered.
Daisy swallowed, and he watched the uneasy movement of her throat. His heart twisted. When had he fallen in love with her? Almost at first sight with regard to her beauty, but soon followed by her courage, intelligence, forthrightness, and kindness. It had happened bit by bit, but now he was far beyond the point of no return.
“Why take such a risk?” he said. “She could have lost all hope of marrying him at a word from you.”
“She knew I wouldn’t contradict her.”
“Because you’re unfailingly kind,” Julian said.
“You know that’s not true. I’ve made a point of being horribly rude.”
“But underneath you’re sweet and soft-hearted.” Before she could open her mouth to disagree, he added, “I’ll wager that as a child, you rescued stray kittens, puppies, and even spiders.”
“And a ferret,” she admitted.
“In fact, any creature in distress, and she knows that.”
Daisy nodded glumly. “I’m sure it’s because she hopes that if I am known as Lady Kerr, rather than as a Warren, the earl won’t realize that I am her notorious cousin.” She bit her lip. “I’m so sorry, Julian. I should have known she had something horrid up her sleeve.”
“I wouldn’t call it horrid.” Helpless in the face of her distress, he ran a finger down her cheek. She sucked in a breath, but didn’t flinch as before. “In fact, it was quite a propos.”
“Of what? It couldn’t be worse. Now you’ll feel forced to marry me. But you needn’t, I swear.”
It seemed he would have to take the plunge now, too soon, thanks to that damned Gloriana. “No force is necessary, sweetheart.” He tucked a stray strand behind her ear. “I want to marry you.”
She broke away, turning aside. “Don’t be a fool.” Her voice shook. “Even if I believed your words, your expression tells me otherwise.”
“What expression?” He took her gently by the arm and turned her to face him. “Look at me: besotted, with more than a touch of anxiety.”
She kept her gaze lowered. “I meant earlier, when she introduced us. You looked as if you wanted to kill her.”
“Oh, I would gladly strangle her, but not because
she was forcing my hand.”
Now she raised her eyes, frowning. “Then why?”
“Because she scotched my well-laid plans.” He paused, trying to phrase it correctly. “I was going to suggest that we marry, but I thought it best to wait until we’d found out who is threatening to kill you. I thought you needed time, both to feel safe again and to adjust to the idea of marriage. Daisy, I’m in love with you and have been since almost the moment we met, but now I’ll have the devil of a time making you believe me.”
The ensuing silence grew and hung between them. Daisy wanted to believe him. She wished she could, but of course she did not.
Which was a good thing, as she recalled what marriage would entail. She might manage to put up with the bedding process, but his disdain afterward would kill her.
She summoned her habitually crisp manner. “You’re right, I don’t believe you.”
“I thought not,” he said. “I’ll just have to try harder.”
“You’re taking chivalry too far, Sir Julian, and it won’t work, for I shall never marry.”
“Why ever not?”
She couldn’t possibly explain. She headed toward the door. “I wish I could go in there and deny that I’m your wife.”
He followed. “Then do so. It’s what Gloriana deserves.”
“Yes, but it would embarrass Miles and Melinda, as they tacitly agreed to it by saying nothing. Why would they make a fuss, seeing as they believe we are betrothed? I don’t want to upset Gloriana’s plans. I just wish she hadn’t destroyed yours.”
“She destroyed nothing,” he said. “I shall continue to woo you.”
Was that what he’d been doing? No, she mustn’t let herself believe that. “Please don’t.” She sighed. “There is a much better solution. Once this is over with and I’m back at the Diving Duck, you can tell everyone I’m dead.”