Once Upon an Accident 02 - Lessons in Seduction

by Melissa Schroeder

  “What?”

  Both she and Cummings yelled the question as she turned to face Douglas.

  Douglas did not look at Cummings but focused his attention on her.

  “I told him to have his seconds call upon me.”

  The cold, unemotional voice did not fool her. She could feel his barely suppressed anger boiling beneath the calm surface. Those small muscles in his jaw ticked furiously. Apparently, Cummings did not realize his danger.

  “I say, Ethingham. You have never been one to fight over a woman.

  Especially one of her ilk. A dawn appointment would be foolish, serving only to tarnish your name as well as hers.”

  Her stomach roiled and a new wave of bile rose in her throat.

  Cummings’ words hit her like a physical blow. A man ready to force a woman into marriage because of his own failings was the slimiest of creatures. Even so, she knew he was right. Her mother’s reputation, even before she plotted to kill Colleen, had been horrid. The fact that a bloodsucker like Cummings recognized that sent anger spiraling through her. How many years would she pay for her mother’s behavior, for her father’s gambling, whoring ways?

  And this man, who was one of the lowest forms of society’s predators, felt he had the right to judge her by her parents’ actions. She wanted to spin on him, to claw his cold, bloodshot eyes out. Before she could do anything, Douglas spoke.

  “I realize now that you do not understand me. You will leave here and see if you can dig up some acquaintances to act as seconds. Then we can set a meeting. But, if you do not disappear from my presence immediately, I will tear your bloody arms from your body and beat you senseless with them.”

  For a moment, there was no sound but the music from the hall.

  Cicely was stunned by the vehemence in Douglas’s voice. She had known he was upset, but she’d had no idea just how furious he was. This type of anger didn’t run hot, didn’t have a man losing his head. This was calculated and cold and much more dangerous.

  His face could have been carved out of stone. His stoic expression, the bleak, vacant look of his eyes, replaced the man she had known before. This man would not flinch at causing pain to another human.

  Her heart rate accelerated. A chill wrapped itself around her core.

  Taking a breath hurt.

  “I…” Cummings swallowed noisily. “I think—”

  Irritated by his stupidity and fearing Douglas would hurt the man, Cicely spun around.

  “For goodness’ sake, you idiot, leave.” Her voice was only a furious whisper, but his eyes widened when he comprehended the threat.

  Without looking at Douglas again, Cummings fled down the hall.

  Cicely drew in a breath, her chest tight from the confrontation, from her worry. She smoothed her hands down the front of her dress and was surprised when they shook. It took her a few more moments to compose herself before she turned to face Douglas.

  “That was completely unnecessary, Your Grace.”

  He studied her dispassionately before saying, “I believe it was.”

  Annoyed, she asked, “And why do you think you even had a right to act on my behalf?”

  “Why?”

  She nodded instead of answering. Otherwise she might offend him by calling him names. Her nerves were pushed to their limit. The day had been long and tiring, and while she appreciated his timing, she did not like his cold tone. After years of being an obligation, she was sick of it.

  She wanted something more, something he did not want to offer.

  “I assumed after you practically ravished me the other night, I had the right to step in to save your reputation.”

  “Ravished you?” Her temper snapped. The day had been bad. The musicale had been horrible. The crowds unnerving. Cummings’ insults beyond irritating, but Douglas’ arrogance… “Really, Your Grace, are you sure you know what you are talking about? You did not know it was me at the time, so I had but one assumption left me.”

  “Really? That being?” He sounded utterly bored. As if the conversation was no more important than picking lint off his clothes.

  “I assumed you allowed anonymous women to attack you.”

  Something shifted in his eyes, as if he came to some kind of understanding. “While I did not know it was you, you knew it was I.”

  Not a question but a statement. She stared at the flickering flame of a nearby wall sconce. Mortified by what he must think of her, especially now that he had found her with Cummings, she had to blink away the tears burning the backs of her eyes.

  “You think I would just allow any man to touch me like that?” Her voice was a mere whisper.

  “I just thought—”

  “You thought I had made an assignation with another man and mistook you for him.” She did not blame him. Considering that she had taunted him with her list of men, it was understandable that he would jump to that conclusion. Even comprehending his reasoning did not stop the pain. The ache in her heart almost tore it into two pieces. One side still desperately clinging to her feelings for him, the other dead or dying.

  It made little difference. It took every bit of control she had not to dissolve into a puddle of tears.

  “Cicely—”

  “No. No. Don’t.” She shook her head. Knowing that he apparently thought no more of her than many thought of her deceased mother— Douglas privy to the worst of it—was just the icing on top of everything else. She might not be ruined to society, but she had fallen from grace. “I understand now. I see why you think so little of me. I truly”—her voice hitched as she fought against the sob that tried to escape—“I understand.”

  She turned, trying to escape, to hide away from her reality. One she had created, crafted and molded into the mess it was. Like a featherbrain, she’d thought a new dress and a new hairstyle would change everything. But it had done nothing except attract the lowest forms of life.

  Douglas took hold of her upper arm before she could flee.

  “Come.”

  She was too surprised by his actions to say anything as he wandered down the hall, dragging her after him. He found a door that was unlocked and ushered her inside. Not willing to face his censure, she shook free of him and moved further into the room. It looked as if it was some sort of morning room, with its feminine design. She heard Douglas shut the door then the lock click.

  “Do you want to tell me what that was all about?” He had softened his voice, but she didn’t want sympathy or pity. Cicely was tired of being on the receiving end of that particular feeling.

  “Why? What would it change? You’ve already made your assumptions.”

  He stood silent for some time. So long, in fact, she was afraid he would never answer. She feared hearing the key turn in the lock as he left, but it didn’t come.

  Finally, he spoke. “Please.”

  One word. Only one word, but it dissolved her defenses. “It is in actuality, quite simple. I was going to the retiring room and Cummings followed me.” She shrugged, refusing to turn around and face him.

  He sighed, the sound filled with irritation. “That is not what I am talking about, Cicely.”

  Oh, no. He wanted to talk about what had happened during the ball.

  “I understand my actions tonight, and the night we…crossed paths in the library indicate just what sort of woman I am.”

  There was a slow beat of silence that seemed to stretch into minutes.

  “And what sort of woman is that?”

  Embarrassment and anger forced her to face him as she allowed the tears she had been fighting to break free. She still possessed a small amount of pride and she used it to lift her chin.

  “A woman with no morals.” He opened his mouth to speak, but she refused to allow him to make excuses. Reality was never very kind to her, but hiding from it these past few days had been a mistake. “Oh, what you must think of me. I originally came up with a brilliant plan to be deflowered before I am shelved. No proper lady formulates a plan to lose her virg
inity.” She hiccupped. “And then you found me tonight in the company of the vilest sort of hanger-on. Well, I am sure you thought the worst.”

  “The worst?”

  She blinked repeatedly, confusion jumping into the muddle of feelings coursing through her. He had leaned against the doors, his face hidden in the shadows, so she had no idea what kind of expression he held. Was this the cold stranger who had threatened to kill Cummings without a thought? Or was this the man she knew, the one she had fallen in love with?

  Angrily, she brushed the tears from her cheeks. “Seriously, Douglas, it does not take a highly intelligent woman to understand what I now look like, or what I apparently am. Perhaps Cummings was correct in stating the apple does not fall far from the tree.” Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew her voice was tinged with hysteria. Trying to calm herself, she drew in a shuddering breath and continued on. “I would have never guessed I was like my mother, but, true to form, I attract the lowest type of men.”

  Again, he waited to speak, as if weighing what she said. With her emotions running wild and her senses all but overloaded, she resented his cool headedness.

  “You liked what Cummings was doing?”

  She shuddered as her skin prickled at the memory. The blood rushed from her head. Her stomach churned. “Good God, no. It was everything I could do not to vomit in his face.” Needing to move, she walked to a small end table with curio pieces set about in display. After a moment, she continued, her voice flat. “My mother was right, and why I listened to my cousin and aunt I do not know. My mother told me what would happen.”

  He moved away from the door, walking slowly toward her. “What did your mother say?”

  “She told me exactly what kind of man would find me attractive. The saddest part of this is that until tonight, no man has found me even remotely pretty.”

  “That is not true.”

  His defense of her caused another wave of tears to pour out. With Douglas’ reputation as a rake, no one would ever guess he was honorable, but he was. He had saved her reputation, and now he was trying to soothe her worries. And he did it for no other reason than his own honor.

  “Yes, it is. I cannot believe I even thought I could attract a man worth anything.”

  “Cicely, please—”

  “No.” She backed away as he moved closer.

  He stopped and his eyes flashed with worry. “Darling, you are wrong.”

  “About what?” she asked, sniffing loudly as her nose had now started to run. Where had she tucked that handkerchief? “The fact that my mother had the worst of reputations? Maybe that I thought a new dress would change everything? Or that only disgusting lechers are attracted to me? And when I say me, please rest assured I know it has nothing to do with me and only to do with the dowry Sebastian has graciously placed for me and my bosom.”

  He frowned. “None of that. I know of one particular gentleman who found you attractive before you changed your look.”

  That caught her attention. She knew of no one remotely interested.

  Assuming he was fibbing to make her feel better, she asked, “And who would that be? Point me in his direction and you will be free of the obligation of protecting me. If there were such a man, perhaps he will accept me regardless of my family history and this whole foolish charade can be over.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest.

  “I mean it, Your Grace. You tell me who he is and I will find a way to pursue him. As they say at the track ‘have at it’.”

  “Have at it?” His lips curved and his voice dipped. “What a particularly wonderful idea.”

  Gone was the cold, emotionless aristocrat. In his place was the consummate rake. Even being the novice that she was, she had heard the seduction in his voice, knew what it meant. Every thought in her brain dissolved as he drew near. Heat raced along her nerve endings. She did nothing but watch him approach. Unable to tear her gaze from his, she realized that she was frozen again, but unlike earlier with Cummings, there was no fear involved. This time her heart skipped a beat as her body warmed. With each step he took, she felt her temperature rise, her senses thrill.

  “I have to say, Cicely, oddly enough, I completely agree with that plan.”

  He stepped so close, she felt his legs brush against the silk skirts of her dress. The spicy scent of him surrounded her. She licked her lips which had suddenly gone dry. When she looked up at him, the unabashed arousal darkening his features had Cicely curling her toes within her slippers.

  “What plan would that be?”

  The corner of his mouth kicked up—as did her heart rate. “The charade being over. I agree with it and…”

  She swallowed, her skin prickling with anticipation. “And?”

  “I would like to have at it.”

  With that statement, he slid his arms around her waist, pulled her tightly against him, and bent his head to press his mouth against hers.

  Without a thought, she slipped her hands up his chest and behind his neck. Even through their layers of clothing she could feel his body molded against hers. He raised one hand to cup her jaw, his fingers skimming over her skin. Blood rushed from her head, leaving it spinning.

  He murmured something against her lips, something she could not comprehend, but it did not matter. Because, in the next instant, he flicked his tongue over the seam of her lips and she melted.

  Chapter Nine

  In which a duke loses more than his head.

  Douglas felt Cicely concede and open her mouth for him. He stole inside, reveling in the sweet, tangy taste. It flowed through his body, warmed his blood. She pressed closer, those magnificent breasts flattened against his chest.

  She moaned his name. The delicious sound hurtled him back into the memories of that night they had accidentally kissed. The touches, the tastes, having her on his lap, feeling the feminine heat of her through his trousers.

  Knowing that it would go too far, that he could not risk her reputation because he couldn’t control his baser urges, with much regret he broke the kiss. Both of them were breathing heavily, their hearts beating against each other.

  “Oh, my.”

  The deepening of her voice had him leaning in to steal another quick kiss, but he found himself lingering. While he cupped the back of her head with one hand, he moved the other to her breast. The delicate fabric gave way easily to his questing fingers. He brushed his thumb over her nipple, thrilling him as it hardened into a tight nub. Wanting a sample, Douglas kissed a path down the soft skin of her neck to her exposed breast.

  In the dim light, he could not see well enough. He wanted, no needed to see. He slipped an arm to her waist and spun them around so he could lay her on the sofa. With a shaft of moonlight spilling across her bare breasts, his breath caught in his throat. Full, rounded and with the sweetest pink nipples he had ever seen. Heat seared a path to his groin, and his cock twitched at the sight.

  “Douglas.” The worry in her voice had him snatching his gaze from her bosom and moving to her face. Apprehension shone in her eyes. The sight melted his heart. Such an innocent. She had no idea just how close the barbarian in him was to tearing off her clothes and taking her right there.

  “Yes, love?”

  She sighed, which in turn had his gaze moving to her breasts. “I know you may be old hat with this sort of thing, but I am not.” She paused and sighed again, as if trying to gather courage. “It is a tiny bit disconcerting to lay here with my bosom bared and you staring at it.”

  Little did she know that he would be happy to strip off every bit of his clothing and allow her to look her fill. Unfortunately that would not do since even now her reputation was at stake. But also because he knew, no matter how brave she portrayed herself, there was a good chance she would go running in the opposite direction.

  Beneath her humor he detected something else, an emotion he could not ignore. The vulnerability he witnessed in her soft brown eyes struck him to the core. He had never pegged her as being particu
larly defenseless, but in this she was. One wrong word from him would crush her.

  The need to soothe her worries engulfed him. Not until that moment had he realized just how much he wanted to be the one who made her happy. Trying to gather his thoughts, he smoothed one of her eyebrows, then the other. The heat in his blood shifted, deepened, evolved into a sentiment he did not want to acknowledge.

  And because of that, because being with her meant more, he forced himself to move away. It cost him, more than she would ever know, but he said, “I apologize, Cicely. I know that you…”

  He couldn’t continue because his gaze had drifted to her breasts again. Her nipples were still hard, almost calling out to be touched, tasted…

  His body threatened to revolt against his better judgment. There was no way he could concentrate with her chest bared like that. With much regret, he pulled the delicate fabric back over her bosom, mourning the loss.

  “What is the matter?”

  The pain he heard in her voice caught his heart unaware. Women had always come easy to him, but this one, this one could hurt him. Just hearing her worry, knowing that her pain affected him this way, made him feel exposed. He wanted to lash out, to protect himself from harm, until he glanced at her face again. Unshed tears glistened in her eyes and a touch of the self-recrimination he had witnessed earlier shone in them.

  Inwardly, he groaned as an ache stung his heart. He had brought her to this. She would see it as another rejection, he knew that. And it was not, far from it. His mind was still whirling with the revelation. Telling her could result in rejection, or worse, her knowledge of his feelings could be used to control him. She was not looking for marriage. Her only goal was to learn the ways of love.

  Ahh, that was it. She wanted to learn how to love, and he could teach her that. Lessons in seduction and in the process tie her to him with lust.

  “I have decided to grant your request.”

  She said nothing and he found himself worrying she had changed her mind. She pulled herself up to her elbows and studied him.

  “My request?” Her voice sounded strained but he did not detect any change in her expression.