Tempted By His Kiss

by Tracy Anne Warren

  Her eyes flew wide. “Oh! Wh-Why did you do that?”

  “I…um…” He flicked a sideways glance across the room. “…was just keeping up appearances.” Leaning down, he set his mouth close to her ear. “We are supposed to be madly in love, remember? No harm giving them a little show.”

  A show? Turning her head, she saw that he was right. They had attracted an audience, Cade’s mother and the mantua maker regarding them with a pair of indulgent smiles before quickly looking away. Meg’s skin flushed all the way to her roots, her shoulders drooping at the realization that his kiss had meant nothing. He had only been playacting.

  “Yes, of course,” she said, striving to sound as if she’d been in on his plan all along.

  “By this time tomorrow,” he volunteered, “the tale of how we were caught kissing in Madame Morelle’s shop will be all over Town. Particularly since Madame has never been known for her discretion. But it’s all to the good. Society will have no doubt of our devotion.”

  She nodded, suddenly desperate to be away from him. “I just realized that I have been neglecting your sister. She must be in need of assistance with her choices by now. So, if you will pardon me, your lordship, I shall attend her.”

  Cade stood, gripping his cane hard as he watched her hurry across the room, her dark skirts swaying around her slender hips before she disappeared behind a curtain that led to the fitting rooms beyond.

  Resuming his seat, he picked up his book and leafed to the correct page. But as he tried to focus on the words, his thoughts drifted away; the taste of her lips still fresh against his own, the sensory pleasure of their kiss warming his blood even now.

  What in the hell was I thinking? He berated himself. Despite his convenient explanation to Meg, he’d had no intention of kissing her—not for show or for any other reason. But there she’d been, sitting next to him looking so pretty and earnest as she shared her concerns over the cost of the gowns his mother was selecting. Everything had been fine—in fact, he’d been rather amused by her prideful worrying—until she mentioned the probable need for a wedding dress.

  In the blink of an eye his humour had turned, irritation boiling up inside him along with other dark emotions he had no business feeling. And then he’d been kissing her, without a thought for their surroundings or the consequences of the act.

  Thank God he’d come up with a reasonable excuse for his lapse. As for why he’d had the lapse in the first place…well, he supposed it was no more than her proximity and the fact that she was a very desirable woman. That was all the kiss had been, he assured himself—a physical act of no real importance. He decided not to dwell on it. Just as he refused to dwell upon the memory of the night she’d lain in his arms and his bed.

  I will escort her to the balls and parties, dote upon her like an attentive fiancé, and see to it she is well received in Society. And when we are not in public, I will act like her brother.

  Yes, that should serve, though perhaps not entirely, since he supposed Mama and Mallory might find something amiss if he treated Meg with no deeper regard than he did his siblings. He would treat her as…a friend. Yes, a friend with whom he shared a unique secret.

  After all, is that not what we are already? Friends?

  Two weeks later, on a fine evening in late March, Meg alighted from the Duke of Clybourne’s resplendent chaise-and-four. Taking Cade’s arm, she let him lead her up the steps of the Berkeley Square town house where she was to attend her very first ton ball. Accompanying them was the duke, the dowager duchess, and Lady Mallory, who was buzzing with barely suppressed excitement. As soon as their party entered the main foyer, several liveried footman came forward to take their outer garments.

  Meg handed over her pelisse, then brushed her fingertips over her gown, to make sure the dress was straight. Rows of embroidered leaves graced the hem and rounded half sleeves of the garment’s sheer white tulle overskirt. The material beneath was fashioned from a length of cornflower blue silk that was gathered under the bust with a darker blue ribbon before falling in a light, frothy glide to the floor. Matching blue silk slippers graced her feet, the shoes just one more part of the massive wardrobe that had been delivered to the duke’s Grosvenor Square address only a few days earlier.

  With their small group ready, they proceeded up another grand staircase to the ballroom—the atmosphere alive with a profusion of noise and colour; the scent of beeswax, perfume, and floor polish drifting on the air.

  Never in her life had Meg seen so many elegantly dressed people crowded into so confined a space. It was not that the house was small; rather the guest list was too large.

  “What an unspeakable crush,” the dowager murmured as they threaded their way farther inside. “No doubt Lady Raybold’s reason for holding her entertainment before the Season actually begins. Fewer parties mean more people.”

  “I only hope my come-out ball will be half so well-attended,” Mallory said. “I cannot believe it is next week.” Reaching for Meg’s gloved hand, she gave her palm an anxious squeeze. “I’m just so glad we shall be sharing the evening together.”

  Meg sent her a smile. “You are sure you do not mind? After all, it is your special day. I am not at all averse to stepping aside.”

  “Don’t you dare! I’ll need you there to distract people from hearing my knees knock together when we’re standing in the receiving line.”

  Meg laughed and Mallory joined her, the dowager and the men smiling.

  “Besides,” Mallory continued. “My come-out has to be easier than my presentation to the Queen. I could hardly move in my court dress with that immense train and those ostrich feathers bobbing in my hair. I was sure I would stumble and make a fool of myself right in front of Her Majesty.”

  “You did splendidly, dear,” the duchess said. “Queen Charlotte remarked that you seemed a very sweet child, high praise indeed from her.”

  “Thank you, Mama. And thank you ever so much for letting me join you tonight.”

  Ava smiled. “It would have been cruel otherwise, leaving you home by yourself. I suppose I might have insisted you wait for your ball, but since you’ve already been presented to Her Majesty, I can’t see the harm. Anyway, next week is the real start to the Season, and you are certain to make a tremendous splash.”

  “And Meg, too,” Mallory added.

  “Yes. And Margaret, too,” the duchess agreed with a happy expression.

  “I want the evening to be for us both,” Mallory continued, giving Meg’s hand another squeeze. “Our first official introduction into Society at large.”

  Meg smiled, touched by her generosity and kindness. Strictly speaking, she supposed that Mallory’s come-out ball would be her own official introduction. However, from what she’d experienced over the past several days, Society had already been busy making her acquaintance.

  Ever since the notice of her and Cade’s engagement appeared in the Morning Post, the Clybourne House door knocker had barely stopped sounding. Every day a fresh round of visitors called, each new group seemingly bolder and more inquisitive than the last, all of them eager to be introduced to the future Lady Cade Byron.

  Thankfully, Cade made a point of joining her for these visits, taking a seat next to her so he could deflect any questions that grew too personal or intrusive. He had a deft way about him, she’d observed, relying upon a combination of natural charm, humour, and, in extreme cases, a glare that would have sent the devil himself scurrying for cover.

  Yet despite his outward displays of devotion and protectiveness, he’d made no further amorous overtures toward her since that day at Madame Morelle’s. He continued to “put on a show,” as he’d called it, holding her hand or brushing a light kiss over her cheek as though he were a besotted bridegroom-to-be. But on the few occasions when they were alone together, he withdrew, treating her with pleasant friendliness and a scrupulous politeness that made her long for something more—no matter how foolish it might seem.

  Luckily, the Season was he
re and she would be able to begin searching for a husband in earnest. She only hoped she was fortunate enough to meet a gentleman she truly liked and wished to marry. Cade had made his feelings quite clear on that subject, and she would abide by her promise. Over the next twelve weeks, she vowed, she would find another man to wed and set him free.

  After all, that is what I want. Is it not?

  Now, with a few murmured words, the dowager moved away to join one of her friends on the far side of the room. Edward excused himself to do the same, leaving Meg and Mallory with Cade.

  “Oh, look, there is Jack!” Mallory said as they moved deeper into the room. “Jack!” she called, lifting a hand to give her brother a wave.

  From across the room he nodded his acknowledgment, his eyes twinkling with good-natured humour at his exuberant younger sister. Turning away, he spoke to a pair of gentlemen with whom he was quite obviously acquainted, and moments later the trio made their way forward.

  “How do you do this evening?” Jack greeted, after the requisite bows and curtsies were exchanged. “Though in your case, imp,” he said to Mallory, “I don’t believe I need ask. You look fair to bursting with excitement.”

  “If you don’t mind my saying so, Byron, the lady looks exquisite,” remarked one of his friends. “Both ladies. I do hope you will introduce us.”

  Jack quirked a brow. “As you will. Niall Faversham, meet my sister, Lady Mallory. And the lady beside her is Miss Margaret Amberley. Cade, I believe, you know already, though perhaps not the fact that he and Miss Amberley are recently engaged.”

  “Ah, so you are the one stirring up all the talk,” Faversham said with a tip of his blond head. “Having now made your acquaintance, I can see why Lord Cade decided to sweep you off your feet. Had I met you earlier, I might have done the same.”

  Meg laughed. “My thanks, Mr Faversham…I think.”

  “And this other gentleman is Lord Gresham,” Jack continued. “Gresham is an old school chum of mine and is acquainted with all my siblings. Adam, Miss Amberley.”

  “A pleasure,” he said in a deep, rumbling voice. Taking her hand, he made an elegant bow.

  “Mine as well,” Meg said. “And how are you finding the ball this evening, my lord?”

  “I feared it had all the makings of a bore,” Gresham replied, “but I have to confess it has improved rather dramatically in the past few minutes, now that I have happened upon such clearly delightful company.”

  He flashed her a roguish grin, his teeth white against his swarthy complexion and head of thick black hair. An undeniably handsome man, she noted. He was tall—taller even than Cade and Jack, who towered well above most of the men in the room.

  Like Jack Byron and Mr Faversham—who possessed a decidedly pleasant countenance in his own right—Lord Gresham must cut quite a swath through the female population, she mused. Yet in spite of the fact that each gentleman had much to recommend him in the way of charm and attractiveness, her heart remained untouched, her pulse continuing to beat at its usual stolid, steady pace.

  All that changed a few seconds later when Cade unexpectedly laid his palm against the nape of her neck. The warm strength of his masculine fingers seemed to sear her exposed skin, his touch roaming in an idle, tantalizing glide that made her mouth go dry. Her heart gave a frantic hop, racing wildly as a shudder chased across her flesh. She blinked and prayed no one else had noticed her reaction.

  Striving for calm, she tried to ease away, but Cade held her in place, his fingers tightening ever so subtly. Using the fleshy edge of his thumb, he traced an invisible line along the back of her neck up to her hairline, then down again, pausing for a few seconds before repeating the brazen process over again.

  Merciful heaven, what does he think he’s doing? She wished she could sigh aloud at the enthralling pleasure.

  If she didn’t know better, she might have imagined he was staking some kind of claim upon her, silently letting the other men know that she was taken. But since he couldn’t possibly have such an idea in mind, she supposed he was playacting again, his touch no more than another quiet display of the supposed affection the two of them were pretending to share.

  Harsh emotions smouldered like fire within her, making her want to wrench herself free of him. But with everyone looking on, such a response was clearly impossible. Still, it did not mean she was completely without options.

  Angling her head slightly, she gave a tiny shrug only he would notice, hoping he might take the hint and remove his wandering fingers. Instead, he skimmed his thumb upward again, then paused to swirl it in a little circle at the base of her skull. She shivered, gooseflesh popping out over her skin.

  Suddenly she’d had enough.

  “Mr Faversham,” she said, striving for what she hoped was a normal tone of voice. “Do you like to dance?”

  His face brightened. “Indeed, I do. In fact, if my eyes don’t deceive me, I believe there is a set about to begin.”

  “I think you are correct. Perhaps you and Lady Mallory might enjoy taking a turn together?”

  Faversham’s expression brightened even more. “Most assuredly. If the lady is so inclined? Lady Mallory, will you do me the honour?”

  Mallory sent Meg a sideways glance, her gaze alive with a combination of surprise and pleased anticipation. “Thank you. That would be lovely.” With a smile, she took the arm he held out and the two of them hurried away toward the dance floor.

  “And what of you, Miss Amberley?” Lord Gresham inquired. “Do you enjoy dancing?”

  “Very much. However, Lord Cade is not so disposed. His war injury, you understand.”

  Cade’s roving thumb stopped, his body stiffening at her back.

  “I plan to sit with him on the sidelines and watch the festivities,” she explained. “Or perhaps play cards, should a likely game form.”

  “Lord, love, you make me sound as if I’m in my dotage,” Cade remarked in a seemingly light hearted tone as his hand slid across to her shoulder. His fingers tightened in a brief squeeze that let her know he was aware of her ploy. “I may not be able to take to the floor,” he continued, “but that does not mean you need be so deprived. If you wish to dance, my dear Meg, then I have no objection.”

  She turned, his hand falling away. “If you are certain, darling?”

  His jaw tensed, an irritation in his gaze she assumed must come from his defeat in their silent tug-of-war. “Quite certain. Dance with as many men as you like. I assure you, I won’t mind.”

  Lord Gresham cast an interested glance between them, a suppressed twinkle in his warm brown eyes. “If that is the case, then you can start with me, Miss Amberley. Take pity and say you will grant me the pleasure of a dance?”

  Meg smiled, then let out a little laugh. “Somehow, I do not think you are the sort who ever lacks for partners, my lord, but I shall be delighted to oblige and stand up with you nevertheless.” Stepping forward, she accepted his arm. “Cade…Jack…behave yourselves while I am gone. I shall be just across the room if you have need of me.”

  Cade glowered, while Jack grinned and shook his head at her antics.

  A measure of her fiery determination faded as she and Lord Gresham took their places for the start of the dance. A large number of other couples were lined up as well, including Mallory and Mr Faversham, who stood several feet away, deep in conversation.

  “Not that I am by any means complaining of your company,” Gresham said. “But I would warn you to be careful about teasing that particular tiger.”

  “Oh, and what tiger might that be?”

  “Cade. He’s quite besotted with you. I can see why he rushed you into an engagement. I am only surprised you aren’t already his wife.”

  And never will be, she thought. If only he realized the truth, he would surely be astonished.

  “Well, we may have rushed at the start, but we’re taking our time now,” she said, striving to sound natural. “Cade wants to give me a Season.”

  “Does he? Again, I must
count myself surprised. I’ve known him a long time and have never seen him so possessive of a woman. His patience is a testament to his devotion.”

  Or rather, his disregard, she corrected silently, her gaze dropping to her shoes. If Cade seemed possessive, it was only further proof of his acting abilities. Unless he is hoping to tempt other men with the notion that I am a prize worth stealing away. A prize, she knew, Cade did not want to keep himself.

  To her relief, a flourish of notes rang out, signalling the start of the set. Pinning a smile on her lips, she raised her head, took Lord Gresham’s hand, and began to dance.

  Watching from a far corner of the room, Cade curled his palm over the top of his cane and gave it a vicious squeeze. Luckily, the head was made of solid gold, otherwise he would probably have crushed it. A slash of pain in his hand forced him to relax his grip, his gaze continuing to track Meg’s movements as she laughed and cavorted on the dance floor with Adam Gresham.

  He took some consolation from the fact that Gresham would not take advantage of her. At least, he assumed he wouldn’t, for in spite of Gresham’s friendship with the family, he was a wild sort, given to all kinds of ungoverned excesses and worldly vices. Women flocked to him in droves, particularly the married ones who were unhappy in their unions and looking for a means to end their loneliness and appease the sexual desires that weren’t being satisfied in their own beds at home.

  Innocent girls tossed their caps at him as well, when their mamas weren’t looking. And although Gresham generally stepped clear of their lures, he wasn’t above a bit of dalliance every now and then. Pleasure in all its forms was always at the top of his must-do list.

  Yet he wasn’t without honour, and Cade knew he would never poach on another man’s territory. If he learned Meg was available, however…But no, when and if Gresham ever married, he would need an heiress to repair his depleted fortunes, so Meg was safe from him.

  He knew that other men would want her, though. Men who wouldn’t mind taking an unexceptional dowry in exchange for her extraordinary beauty and charm. Men with whom she would be dancing and flirting, he thought, his hand tightening again on his cane. Men she would be encouraging with her engaging smile and bewitching blue eyes. Men with whom she might be sneaking off to cajole and kiss.