Samantha Kane

by Tempting a Devil

  Lady Anne sighed. “I have known Mr. Templeton for more than half my life. Did you know that?” Harry shook her head, astounded that Roger had such high-ranking acquaintances. “He’s great friends with my cousin, Mr. Alasdair Sharp,” Lady Anne told her. Harry nodded, having learned that much from Roger. “They’ve been bosom beaus since their school days, more than ten years.” Harry nodded again, feeling very slow. “I feel rather proprietary about Sharp and his friends,” Lady Anne said in a forthright manner. “They’d be quite surprised to hear it, I don’t doubt, but you see, they championed me through my rather awkward years.”

  “I see,” Harry said, not wishing to nod again for fear she’d look like a simpleton.

  “I have heard your name before,” Lady Anne announced portentously. She waited for some response from Harry.

  “Indeed,” Harry said, completely at sea. Lady Anne sighed again, and Harry got annoyed. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to lead me through this conversation,” she told the other woman. “I’m at a complete loss as to what you expect me to say. That’s nice? Good for you? Where?”

  Lady Anne smiled, her amusement evident. “You’ve a bit of a bite, haven’t you?” she asked in good humor. “You’ll need it if you’re to be with Templeton. The wolves are circling.” She indicated several ladies standing a polite distance away, watching them with cold, cruel eyes as they whispered behind their fans to one another.

  Harry just laughed in delight. “Are they talking about me? How marvelous,” she let slip. Her gaze cut to Lady Anne in alarm when she realized what she’d said.

  Lady Anne laughed with her. “I’m sure it must be,” she said wistfully. “I’d dearly love to do something worth talking about.”

  Harry had regained her footing in the conversation. “Are your proprietary feelings about Mr. Templeton why you wished to speak with me alone?” she asked boldly. “I suppose I should give you fair warning that I’ve made up my mind about him and shan’t be swayed.”

  “Good for you,” Lady Anne said with satisfaction. She linked arms with Harry and turned her toward the refreshment tables, continuing their walk. “It’s about time someone made up her mind about him. He’s been alone for far too long. He’ll develop bad habits that will be impossible to break.”

  “So you’re not interested in Mr. Templeton?” Harry asked her, curiously. “Why not?” She felt a little spark of indignation on Roger’s behalf.

  Lady Anne shrugged and looked around the room. “Oh, I’m far too tame for him, and my taste runs more to the gruff-barrister type,” she said mysteriously. Before Harry could explore that interesting revelation, Lady Anne laughed dismissively. “But we are talking about you and Mr. Templeton.” She wagged her brows. “Do tell. What exactly have you set your mind to do with him?” Harry blushed, but said nothing.

  “Ah,” said Lady Anne in complete understanding. “At the risk of being indelicate, Lady Mercer, I have heard some alarming things about you. On closer acquaintance, if one can call a short stroll through a crowded, hostile ballroom and a glass of lemonade an acquaintance, I suspect most of those rumors are false.”

  “What rumors?” Harry asked, dying to know what the ton was saying about her.

  “Have you heard your nickname among society, Lady Mercer?” Lady Anne asked. She turned to Harry, her expression somber. “Lady Mercenary. That’s hardly a flattering appellation.”

  Harry felt her face blanch. “No,” she whispered. “I hadn’t heard that.”

  Lady Anne patted her arm reassuringly. “It’s not the worst I’ve heard, so take heart. But is it true?”

  “I was married to my husband at a young age because of his wealth and station, yes,” Harry admitted with as much dignity as she could. “But that was a decision made by my father, not me”

  “Aren’t they all?” Lady Anne murmured empathetically. “And what are your goals now?”

  Harry frowned. “I don’t understand. Goals?”

  “Yes,” Lady Anne replied. “What do you plan to do now? What type of husband are you looking for?”

  “I don’t plan to marry again,” Harry told her firmly. “So my goal is to remain an independent widow.”

  “Oh, that won’t do,” Lady Anne dismissed her wishes cavalierly. “Society simply won’t let you. Why, a beautiful, wealthy woman like you left running around scot-free? Oh, no. It would cause far too much havoc.”

  “Society has very little to do with what I will or won’t do,” Harry argued.

  “Nonsense.” They had reached the refreshment table and Lady Anne picked up a lemonade. “They will force their dictates upon you if you will not conform willingly. It is the way of society, all societies, I’m afraid. You think you are independent and may remain so, but this is false bravado. You know you cannot do so. My question stands, what kind of man do you intend to marry next? Another wealthy one?”

  Harry was extremely uncomfortable now. Was Lady Anne friend or foe? For a short while it had seemed she was a new friend. “I have not given it any thought, since I do not wish to marry.”

  Lady Anne looked less friendly now. “So the answer is yes. If you were to marry again, it would be to a wealthy gentleman? A titled one, perhaps?”

  “If you are worried that I shall set my sights on the earl, Lady Anne, you are misguided,” Harry said stiffly, finally discerning the lady’s meaning. “I have no wish to join such esteemed company. The responsibilities and weight of such a station would not sit well on me.”

  Lady Anne looked surprised. “The earl? Why I had not given that notion any thought. It’s clear you and Throckton would not suit at all. No, my concern is for Mr. Templeton.”

  “But Mr. Templeton has no money,” Harry blurted out. She blushed with shame at her faux pas, mentioning a gentleman’s circumstances in company. She felt as if she’d betrayed Roger with her outburst.

  Lady Anne laughed. “Of course he hasn’t,” she said. “He never has. But he’s such a delight that society has carried him for years.” She turned somber. “No, my concern is not that you are pursuing him for his money, but rather that you are toying with his affections while in pursuit of someone else.”

  Harry gasped. “I would never,” she defended herself vehemently. “You may not be aware, Lady Anne, but I have been acquainted with Mr. Templeton far longer than you have. We grew up together. He was my dearest friend as a child, and I would never betray that friendship.” Her stomach lurched as she realized that she was indeed doing just that. Not by toying with his affections. He’d told her he had no desire to marry or fall in love. But she was using him to protect herself from Faircloth’s machinations, which was a sort of betrayal. But certainly an affair with her couldn’t harm him?

  “I didn’t know that,” Lady Anne said, watching Harry closely. “Were your feelings for Mr. Templeton more than friendship when you were younger?”

  Harry gave a disdainful sniff. “Until several weeks ago, the last time I saw him was when I was ten years old. At that age, all feelings are friendship. Did I perhaps wish that one day we could be more than friends? Of course I did. I was a silly, idealistic young girl, with stars in my eyes. I’m older and wiser now, Lady Anne, and I realize it is best to keep any feelings for a man firmly in the realm of friendship. To do otherwise makes you far too vulnerable.”

  Lady Anne was looking at her with compassion. “That bad, was it?” she murmured. Before Harry could answer, Lady Anne put her glass down and hooked their arms together again. “Come along, I’ve punished my brother enough for forcing me to hostess this abominably dull party. Well, it was dull until you and Mr. Templeton showed up.”

  Harry was having trouble keeping up with Lady Anne’s abrupt changes of topic and mood. “Have I set your mind at ease?” she asked, needing to know that Roger’s friends, at least, didn’t think the worst of her.

  “Yes, you have,” she answered. “Although it was more your manner than your words.” There was a thoughtful pause, and Harry believed the lady would speak a
gain. Finally, Lady Anne said, “Mr. Templeton is misunderstood, I think. He’s very witty, and certainly handsome, and he relies too heavily on those gifts, letting his kind heart and loyal nature hide behind his more outgoing traits. But when his heart is engaged, I believe he is easily hurt. He danced one of the first dances with me at my come out,” she said with a fond smile. “I was tall and awkward and terribly shy. I fumbled my way through the dance. Mr. Templeton was much sought after by the girls of my acquaintance for his charm and looks, and I felt wholly inadequate. He smiled and laughed and put me at ease and only had eyes for me. I will never forget his kindness.”

  Harry had to blink her eyes to clear the tears that had appeared against her will. She hadn’t had a come out. She’d never had the chance to share her first dance with him. Yet another regret to add to the pile. She suddenly needed to see him, to dance with him. She picked up her pace as they neared the doorway to the entry where she’d left him.

  Lady Anne laughed. She’d done that often enough in the last few minutes for Harry to doubt her self-description of tame. “Eager to get back to him, hmm? Well, I don’t blame you. I don’t suppose you step on his toes when you dance, like I did?”

  Harry flashed a grin over her shoulder. “Oh, no. I stand far too close for that.”

  Lady Anne looked shocked for a moment before laughing so loud that she drew the attention of several people standing near, including Roger and her brother. “Well, again, I don’t blame you,” she told Harry with a subtle wink. “Perhaps I should have tried that.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Roger watched Harry and Lady Anne as they approached. They were both attractive women, but Harry put Lady Anne to shame. Harry simply shone in the candlelight, bright and pure like a diamond. The sloe-eyed look she cast his way made him think inappropriate thoughts. Whatever the two women had been discussing had clearly started Harry’s mind down a very naughty path.

  “So, we’re done here?” he said to the earl even as he began to walk away. “Good, good. Nice to see you again, Throckton.”

  The earl said something that Roger completely ignored as Harry stopped directly in front of him.

  He gave Lady Anne a cursory glance and a mumbled hallo, and then his eyes turned back to Harry, as if she exerted some magic that made him unable to look away. She still bore the little smile that was equal parts mystery and allure, and all woman. “How was your lemonade?” he asked, trying desperately to make intelligent conversation when all he wanted to do was drag her away.

  “I forgot to have some,” she told him. “Dance with me.”

  “I hate to interrupt,” Lady Anne said with genuine regret from beside them, “but we’re not having dancing this evening.”

  “What?” Harry asked with obvious disappointment.

  “No dancing,” Lady Anne repeated. “But I’m sure the two of you can think of something that will require standing close to one another.” She grinned at Harry and finally answered the earl’s call to return to his side. “I’m coming, Throckton,” she said calmly. She sighed. “Honestly, the man has written and introduced bills in Parliament, runs a fairly extensive business enterprise, and chairs several charitable committees. You’d think he could greet his own guests.” She smiled at Roger and Harry. “Good evening. It was wonderful to see you again, Mr. Templeton, and to meet you, Lady Mercer.”

  “I’m so pleased to have made your acquaintance,” Harry told her politely, but Roger could tell she was sincere.

  “So, no dancing,” Roger said after a minute of just standing there staring at Harry. “What shall we do?”

  Harry looked consternated at their dilemma. “I don’t know.”

  “We could explore,” Roger suggested slyly. He’d been here before, of course, but Harry didn’t know that. And he knew exactly where he was going to take her for some private dancing.

  Harry nibbled on her lip as she glanced around the entry at the people milling about. “Do you think we should? It doesn’t seem polite.”

  Roger chuckled at her naïveté. “Of course it’s not polite,” he agreed. “That’s what makes it fun.”

  He actually took her on a short tour, beginning with the public rooms. This ensured that everyone in attendance saw him and Harry together. The guests were an odd mix of society favorites and political cronies of Throckton’s. Lady Maxwell and Faircloth were there, but he and Harry avoided them, and the two seemed indifferent to their presence. In need of fresh air, and with an ulterior motive, Roger asked, “Would you care to see the garden? It’s just through these doors.” He pointed to the set of French doors just to their left in the music room.

  Harry’s smile was mischievous. “Oh, yes. You and gardens seem to go well together.”

  “Not as well as me and drawing rooms,” he said. Harry laughed, as he’d wanted her to, but she also looked flushed and pleased with his reference to their previous romantic interludes.

  As soon as they were on the back porch, Roger steered Harry to the right, ignoring her quiet hesitation. His target was around the corner and out of sight of the other guests lingering in the cool spring air. Roger tried to be subtle, but the truth was he was desperate to get Harry alone. Ever since he’d seen her looking so beautiful when he collected her this evening, he had been unable to think of little else.

  He knew he needed to be seen flirting with her shamelessly by as many people as possible, but what he now had planned required privacy, no matter what Hil had advised him to do. Public seduction was out of the question where Harry was concerned. Roger was already unhappy about the necessity of causing more talk about her in an effort to flush her secret admirer from his hiding place. But he would not make her the subject of ridicule or disdain by taking it too far. Those moments, when he couldn’t stop, couldn’t say no, those were to be reserved for when they were alone. He might be a Devil, but he wasn’t an animal to rut anywhere and anytime when a ready female was available.

  Harry followed his lead, no longer protesting. Instead, she gripped his hand tightly and stayed close to his side, quiet, alert, and a partner in whatever ill-advised adventure he had planned. He had another flash of memory, of leading Harry just like this down to the stream by the Millers’ when she was little more than a babe, and showing her the mother doe and her sleeping fawn hidden in the bushes there.

  He glanced over his shoulder and Harry looked back at him with the same gleam of excitement she’d had that morning when they’d crouched behind a tree and watched the fawn walk to the stream right in front of them.

  He tugged her to a stop in front of another set of doors. A single lamp, turned down low, lighted the empty room inside. “Where are we?” Harry whispered.

  “Throckton’s study,” Roger said with a conspiratorial grin. “Shall we go in?”

  Harry’s eyes were wide. “We shouldn’t,” she said, but her voice was indecisive.

  “He’ll never know,” Roger told her. He pointed at the room beyond the windows set in the doors. “There’s no one in there,” he said, trying to convince her. “We can be alone. No one will find us.”

  Harry’s eyes cut from him to the doors and back again as she nibbled her lip. Roger couldn’t resist the invitation and leaned in for a kiss. Harry didn’t disappoint. The kiss they shared had none of the innocence of those children at the stream. It was full of the desires of two adults who hungered for the same things. She tasted better every time Roger kissed her. He loved it, the almost too-sweet flavor of mint and tea. The flower scent of her perfume settled on his tongue, too, a heady mixture. Her lips were so soft that Roger feared bruising them with his ardor, and eased back. “Inside?” he whispered.

  Harry nodded. Roger wasted no time opening the door and pulling her through. As soon as she was inside, he closed the door, checking both ways outside to make sure no one saw them go in.

  Without words, he pulled Harry back into his arms and they spun around until her back rested on the wall to the left of a large desk dominating the room opposite a
door that led into the hallway.

  Roger fell into Harry’s desire for him. She had never learned the art of pretense, it would seem. Most women assumed an air of reluctance, forcing Roger into a chase he knew he’d win and he resented. Harry bared her soul to him, showing him with each touch and sigh and kiss how much she wanted him. It was intoxicating. He felt as if he’d drunk a bottle of the best scotch, light-headed and pleasantly muffled from the cares of the world.

  Finally he broke the kiss, a little desperate to separate himself from Harry long enough to keep his wits about him. Harry protested with a low, purring mewl that made the hair on his nape rise as his need for her grew. Her hands reached for his hips, pulling him close. As much as Roger wanted to lose himself completely with her, he knew he couldn’t disguise a ruined pair of pants tonight. He rested his forehead on Harry’s. “Lift your leg,” he told her softly, his voice coming out gruffer than he’d intended.

  “What?” she asked, clearly confused. “Lift it where?”

  Roger laughed under his breath. “Good point. I suppose we don’t have to do this against the wall, either.” He started to pull away, but Harry wouldn’t let him.

  “I like the wall,” she whispered. “I’ve grown rather fond of walls recently.” She nuzzled his neck.

  “Keep your leg wherever you damn well please,” Roger said roughly. “I can work with that.” It was Harry’s turn to chuckle, the sound vibrating against his throat where she was kissing him.

  He took a handful of her skirt and gently began to pull it up. He didn’t know much about women’s dresses, other than how to get them out of them, but the material looked rather delicate to him. He had it all the way up to her thigh in a matter of moments and Harry’s leg wrapped around his. He felt the tap of her heel against his calf through his hose.

  He wrapped his hand around her thigh, her warm, soft skin radiating through his palm. He’d removed his gloves when they’d walked out on the porch earlier, anticipating the opportunity to touch her like this, and he had never been so glad to have planned ahead. He ran his hand over and around her thigh before taking it firmly in his palm and lifting it higher against his hip. “Right there,” he whispered.