"One that I hope to repeat again."
Aveline ignored his riposte and uttered, "I best be returning to my aunt." She pushed off the door and away from Patrick's embrace. In a flurry of blue silk she left the room with haste.
Interesting indeed. Patrick knew he had Aveline right where he wanted her. He would enjoy stealing kisses from the sleeping temptress.
"Where have you been, dearest?"
The answer was far too complicated for Aveline to explain to her aunt, or really anyone for that matter. She had been kissed before but those brief chaste kisses had been nothing compared to the flame he ignited. Not for the first time, Patrick had made her want to throw all caution to the wind and experience more. There was something in his kiss that made her believe she could have her own happily ever after.
Fortunately the arrival of Lord Pickering distracted her aunt from further questioning Aveline's brief disappearance.
"Good evening, Lady Jagger. I understand Lord Jagger is under the weather. I hope it is nothing serious."
"My husband is fairing much better. It is so kind of you to inquire after him." Aunt Winnie clearly had a different opinion of Lord Pickering than Aveline. There was something about him that Aveline simply did not care for, but could not quite name.
He bowed his head slightly. "Not at all. I was wondering if I might borrow your lovely niece for the next dance."
Aunt Winnie did not give Aveline the chance to answer for herself. "She would be delighted."
Without further word, Aveline found herself being escorted to the dancing hall. Nothing was like as it had been with Patrick. Thank heavens for that, or she would have suspected she was very ill indeed.
"I was hoping to see more of you this season, Miss Redgrave, or may I call you Aveline?"
"Miss Redgrave will do, thank you." There was only one man she wanted to hear her name from. She glanced past Lord Pickering and saw Patrick fuming off to one side. Part of her was thrilled. The other part desperately wanted to run into his arms and find some dark corner and beg for more kisses.
One dance after another and the evening was still no closer to being over. To make matters worse, Patrick was nowhere to be seen. It had been at least an hour since the last time she had spied him. Did he leave to find other entertainments? Probably he'd got bored, to tell the truth.
Aveline was just about to give up when she saw him sneak outside onto the veranda. Her blood boiled. She just knew he was meeting someone else. She was such a fool to believe he might have deeper feelings for her. It was all a game to him. Well, she was going to confront him and end this ruse once and for all.
Careful to avoid any prying gossipmongers, Aveline edged along the perimeter of the room and snuck out into the cool night air. The small veranda was unlit, cloaked in darkness. She blinked several times, trying to adjust her eyes when a large hand snaked around her waist and pulled her into a warm wall of masculine flesh.
"I was hoping you would search me out." Patrick said as he lowered his lips to her neck. With gentle movements, he edged her further into darkness.
"How do you know I wasn't looking for someone else?"
Patrick lifted his head. His eyes pierced hers with an unspoken desire that reached all the way down to her toes. His response came not in words, but in a trail of feathered kisses along her jaw. Her body instantly responded to the feel of his hands and the softness of his kiss. Warmth pooled in areas she had not known existed.
"Does that answer your question?"
She pulled out of his embrace. "I think you are far too confident in your abilities. Good night, Lord Leybourne."
She turned and retreated inside, but not before she heard him say, "Goodnight, sweet Aveline. Dream of me."
Heaven help her, this was going to be a long, sleepless night.
Stolen Kisses from the Viscount: Chapter Four
AVELINE WALKED INTO HER UNCLE'S STUDY with dread and anticipation. She did not want him to die. He had been like a father to her and she did not know what she would do without him. He was her voice of reason, the only person she ever turned to for advice.
"I was wondering when you would visit me," Uncle Arnulf said with a half smile. "You needn't be afraid, Aveline."
She approached him with caution. Aveline noticed the lines on his face appeared deeper, the circles under his eyes darker. He looked so tired and frail.
"I don't want to lose you."
"Aveline, come and sit." He waved her to the seat beside him. "This is something that is out of our control and instead of dwelling on what we cannot change, why don't we enjoy the time we have left together?"
Uncle Arnulf was right. She tried to hold back her emotions, but those pesky tears were threatening to destroy her resolve once again. He handed her a crisp white handkerchief. "No more tears."
Aveline knew she would never be able to keep that promise. "Thank you."
"Now, tell me what's troubling you."
"Why do you suspect something is troubling me?"
Uncle Arnulf narrowed his eyes and raised a questioning brow. "Might it have something to do with Lord Redgrave's ultimatum?"
Aveline nodded her head. "I don't know what to do. I seem to be the center of attention at every event, but how do I know if…" She stopped herself from saying Lord Leybourne's name. A couple of kisses were hardly an indication that he was interested in Aveline for more than just flirtation. It was better to simplify her problem. "You're a man. How—"
Her comment earned her a robust laugh. It was good to hear him laugh in such a way. "I'm glad you noticed."
"Uncle," Aveline giggled. "I am trying to ask for advice." Although Aveline adored her aunt, it was her uncle who she always went to when she had a problem. "How do I know if a gentleman is sincere in his advances?"
Uncle Arnulf leaned back and took in a long deep breath, his forehead crinkled in concentration. "Well," he exhaled, "when I was courting your aunt, I found ways to have moments alone with her, gave her her favorite flowers, and even wrote her poems."
"You write poetry?" Aveline could not contain the giggle bubbling up from within.
"I should've said that I attempted to write poetry. Thankfully, Winifred's decision to marry me was not influenced by my inability to write poems." He took Aveline's hand within his own. "My point is, I discovered what she enjoyed."
She inclined her head and offered a smile in thanks. She'd begun to edge off the sofa when her uncle stopped her.
"Aveline, there is something I would like to discuss with you."
She swiveled her body to face him. Anxiety knotted and twisted within her stomach.
"Although your aunt is quite enamored with Lord Elsworth, I will not force a union between the two of you."
Some of the weight that had been bearing down on her eased and the world seemed a little brighter with those words.
Aveline leaned over to him and kissed his gaunt cheek. "Thank you, Uncle."
UNDER NORMAL CONDITIONS, AVELINE would have taken great joy in being at the theatre. She loved watching all the people, but tonight her thoughts were centered on one person. She had spent most of the afternoon thinking about what her uncle had said, and she was anxious to discover whether or not Patrick's affections were sincere. But how was she to achieve such a monumental feat?
Aunt Winnie stood abruptly distracting Aveline's musings. "Dearest, will you be joining me during the intermission?"
"I believe I will stay and watch the social butterflies flit about attempting to be seen." Aveline was in no mood to be social this evening. News of her dowry and uncle's ultimatum had spread like wildfire through the ton, and much to her dismay she had become even more popular.
"We are all social creatures," her aunt said with a sweet smile. "Oh well, suit yourself. I will be right outside if you need me."
Aveline turned her attention from Aunt Winnie, back to those on the main floor. Apart from the mingling and conversation wafting through the vast space, there wasn't much in the form
of entertainment. The crowd seemed rather sparse or rather she was uninterested in those in attendance. Her head was beginning to ache and she wanted nothing more than to retire for the evening. Slipping into the shadows at the rear of the box, she settled in to the plush seat and closed her eyes.
"I was hoping to steal a moment alone with you." A deep alluring whisper tickled the back of her neck.
Slowly, seductively, his finger weaved an intricate trail from one ear, down the column of her neck, across her back, and up toward the other ear. Shivers of excitement careened through her body, her breath came in short spurts. She wanted nothing more than to turn around and succumb to his ministrations.
"Patrick," she breathed out.
"Shh." His whisper enticed her senses even more. She felt the exhilarating sensation of his lips against her neck. Her entire body was aflame with desire.
Aveline stretched her head back wanting to give him more access as he nibbled her ear and showered kisses across her cheek and lips before taking her mouth in a soft exploring kiss. A firm hand cupped her shoulder and glided over her chest.
An intense ache that needed release bubbled inside, and then just like that it was gone. Her body instantly felt the loss as her hazy thoughts struggled to reenter reality.
Panic settled in as she realized what she had been doing and with whom, not to mention in public where anyone might see.
Soft light from behind filtered into the space, followed by Aunt Winnie's giddy voice. "That would be wonderful. I'm sure Aveline would enjoy the outing."
Aveline whipped her head around looking for Patrick. To where had he disappeared? Had she just imagined the whole scene?
She brought her fingertips to her temple, hoping to avoid her aunt's gaze. Aveline looked down and on her lap was a single red rose.
"DIDN'T THINK I WOULD see you here this evening," Pickering said with smug grin as Patrick entered the dining room at White's. Ever since he had given up his previous activities, Patrick had often felt like a lost soul wandering and unsure, and somehow he always seemed to end up at his club.
"Habit of nature, I suppose." He crossed his arms and surveyed the surroundings. What was he doing here? He wanted to be in a dark theatre box stealing kisses from Aveline, tempting sweet sounds from her lush lips. Control your thoughts.
Pickering peered up at Patrick with a sly look that did not sit well with him. "Have a seat."
Despite years of friendship, he didn't entirely trust Pickering. His friend had never played by the rules, and some nagging feeling told him not to turn his back on him. There was too much at stake to take the honest approach. With guarded caution he took the seat across from Pickering and waved a waiter over.
"Two more." Pickering pointed to the empty glass in front of him indicating his desired poison. Once the waiter was out of earshot, he probed, "How's the seduction progressing?"
Patrick detested that word. "As planned." His response was meant to be short, curt, and to deter Pickering from inquiring further.
Two glasses of brandy were delivered to the table. Pickering picked up the glass and stared down into the aromatic liquid before taking a sip. He relaxed into the seat and rubbed his jaw with his other hand. "I believe it's time for me to choose a wife." Pickering's statement seemed to come out of thin air, but his sly smile revealed something deeper.
"You don't say?"
Pickering had boasted for years that he would never marry. What was he up to? The hair on the back of Patrick's neck stood on end.
Swirling the amber liquid in his glass that he had no intention of drinking, Patrick asked in a casual tone, "What made you change your mind?"
"Not what, but who, rather." Pickering took another sip of brandy before sating Patrick's curiosity. "Miss Redgrave," he said with a self-congratulatory expression that made Patrick's blood boil with rage. His oldest friend was about to meet an early demise.
With great restraint, Patrick managed to set his glass on the table instead of slamming it down and calling the blackguard out. He clenched his jaw tight until some of the anger dissipated. Crossing his arms, he leaned back and attempted nonchalance. "What made you decide on her?"
His comment earned him a harsh glare from Pickering, who stopped and peered over his half-empty glass. "I'm sure you have noticed her lush body and full bosom. I suspect she would be a most willing bed partner."
Patrick snapped forward and growled out, "You will not speak of Miss Redgrave, or any woman, in such a manner." Aveline Redgrave was his and his alone.
"Quite touchy this evening aren't you, Leybourne?" Pickering said with a lopsided grin.
"What do you want?" The room warmed several degrees. Patrick ran a finger along the ridge of his cravat, releasing his steaming fury.
"I am enjoying the wager and its effects on you." Pickering raised his glass then gulped half of the contents. "But I think the stakes are too low."
A surge of excitement coursed through Patrick's veins with the thought of winning more money from this blackguard. "What do you have in mind?"
"Clearly you are besotted with Miss Redgrave." Patrick met his harsh stare and was about to argue when Pickering added, "No use trying to deny it. I have known you for far too long." He downed the remainder of the brandy. "As I was saying, the stakes are too low."
"How much?"
"Ten thousand, plus the engagement must be announced by the end of the week."
Could he take this risk? In his mind, Aveline was already his. Securing an engagement and winning this wager would solve all his problems. You've never lost to Pickering, his inner voice taunted.
"Deal."
Pickering extended his hand to seal the deal. The moment their hands met, Patrick felt as if he had just made a deal with the devil himself.
What had he done?
He grabbed the glass and swirled the amber liquid, not bothering to look up.
"Are going to drink that or just stare at it?"
No matter what happened in his life, this was one temptation he had to resist. He placed the glass down on the table and pushed it toward Pickering. "Enjoy." Patrick stood and walked away before his anger got the better of him.
Stolen Kisses from the Viscount: Chapter Five
PATRICK SHOULD'VE GONE STRAIGHT TO AVELINE'S uncle, asked for her hand in marriage, had the banns posted, then collected his ten thousand pounds. Instead he snuck into Lady Vance's soiree and was hiding in a dark curtained alcove like a common thief in the hope of stealing a moment with Aveline.
Music and laughter drifted through the air from down the hall. A melodious hum reached his ears. He peered out between the heavy curtain and the cool wall, spotting the object of his desire strolling his way. His patience was being rewarded.
When Aveline reached the opening, he pulled her into the dark recesses of the alcove and silenced her protests with a hungry ravenous kiss. She brought her arms around his neck and pressed her soft body to his. Heaven help him, he missed her.
"What are you doing here, Patrick?" Aveline questioned between kisses.
"I was curious about what diversions might be had this evening."
Misinterpreting his meaning, Aveline pushed away from him and crossed her arms. "You are at the wrong location if you are interested in those kind of diversions."
Despite her stance, he could see the passion in her eyes and feel the desire emanate from her body. He closed the distance, enclosing her within his arms. "You are the only diversion I'm interested in Aveline."
"Oh." Her response was deliciously breathy.
Patrick brushed his lips against hers as he spoke. "Shall I prove it to you?"
She answered his question with an intense soul-searching kiss that had him begging for more. His fiery temptress had seduced him, mind, body, and soul.
Patrick deepened the kiss as he fondled one perfectly round breast through the fabric of her dress. Frustrated he could not feel more, he edged his hand under the fabric, and relished in the feel of her silky skin and har
d nipple.
"Oh my," Aveline gasped.
What the bloody hell was he doing?
Semblances of the real world slowly came into focus. If he stayed, Patrick did not know how long he could control himself. With great reluctance, he pulled back.
"I best be leaving you."
"Patrick?" The desire in her eyes was replaced with confusion.
"I will not make love to you for the first time in an alcove." Her eyes brightened with excitement. He brushed a soft kiss against her plump lips. "Until the next time."
"There will be a next time?" She teased with a confidence that intrigued him.
"Does this answer your question?" Patrick's mouth swooped down to capture hers, and branded her as his own, leaving her in no doubt she belonged to him.
Resting his forehead against hers, he caressed her cheek. "Till tomorrow evening, my love."
With a final kiss, Patrick edged out from the alcove and snuck down the hall without encountering even one servant. Aveline's reputation was still intact. There was no doubt in his mind that after tomorrow evening, she would be his forever. Fate was smiling down on him.
KEEPING CALM DURING THE course of the day had proven to be most difficult. By the time the hour had come to ready for the evening's festivities, Aveline's insides were all knotted and only worsened as she entered Lady Guildford's ballroom.
Using the fluted white marble column for support, she stood on tiptoes peering over the elegant guests hoping to catch a glimpse of Patrick, but he was nowhere to be seen. It had only been twenty-four hours since she'd last seen him, but it felt like weeks. What if he'd changed his mind? What if she was mistaken about his affections?
Oh, her heart sighed, a man did not kiss like that if he did not feel some attraction. Her lips still tingled and her whole being warmed with desire as the remembrance of their last kiss danced across her heated flesh.
"Thinking inappropriate thoughts, Aveline?" Patrick whispered for her ears only in a deep seductive tone. Her name purred from his lips, further adding to the heat in her cheeks.
Once Upon a True Love's Kiss Page 49
