Misadventures in Seduction

by Robyn DeHart

  Prudence took a shaky breath. Emma didn’t lie. With the dress, the hair, and the mask, Prudence did not look like herself. She grinned in spite of the situation. “My sister, Astrid, would not even believe this.” She fingered the fabric of her gown. “She’s always pestering me to buy myself prettier dresses.”

  “She would definitely love this one, then. Shall we go show the men?”

  “I suppose it’s now or never. I asked to be a part of this.”

  “You insisted, which by the way, is the perfect method to handle Harrison.” She smiled. “You’ll do wonderfully.” Emma draped an arm over her shoulder and led her out of the bedchamber. “And there is no man finer than Harrison. He is honorable and trustworthy.”

  Oh, yes, she knew all too well that Harrison was not the kind of man who would take advantage of this situation, no matter that part of her wished he would. While Harrison was treating her as if she were his mistress all evening long, it would be very difficult for her to remember that he was not for her. That no matter what she felt when he touched her, for him this was all business. Very serious business, indeed. The life of the Prince and the safety of their country depended on finding this traitor. If her heart was a casualty, then so be it.

  And she very much feared that her heart would be a casualty, for how could she resist falling at least a little bit in love with Harrison? She knew her concerns were valid the moment they stepped into the study. Harrison stood across the room looking far more dashing than he had a right to, and Prudence realized that her heart was most definitely in very serious danger.

  …

  There was a rap on the door. “We’re ready,” Emma said from the doorway. She moved out of the way and gave Prudence room to walk into the study.

  The red gown fit her perfectly. He’d always thought Prudence a handsome woman, in a sweet country-girl sort of way. Even before he’d roamed his hands over her supple curves, he’d suspected that her prudish clothes hid an irresistible body. Knowing exactly how delicious her body was had made being around her very difficult these last two days. Seeing her like this? It would be impossible not to react.

  She epitomized everything sensual about womanhood. Her curves accented, her décolletage so boldly displayed, he fought to keep his gaze above her neck. Thankfully, the mask brought attention to those lovely green eyes.

  “Close your mouth, Harrison, you’re supposed to appear as if you’re accustomed to this woman,” Remy said.

  Harrison rolled his eyes. “My mouth was not open. Prudence, you look—”

  “Exquisite,” Remy interrupted. “My love, you did a splendid job.” He nodded to Emma. “Although I’m not certain anyone will believe she would lower her standards to cavort with Harrison.” Remy gave Prudence a wink.

  “Anyone would be pretty in this gown,” Prudence said.

  “Pretty, perhaps, but not stunning,” Harrison said.

  Prudence shook her hands out in front of her. “If we wait any longer, I’m afraid I might lose my nerve.”

  “Very well, let us be off,” Harrison said. He offered his arm to Prudence, which she accepted.

  “We can’t forget these.” Remy held a domino mask out to Harrison. “Keep this on at all times so your identity is kept a mystery.”

  …

  They arrived at Carlton House with ample time to mill about before the scheduled meeting in the armory. Prudence had heard of the opulence of Carlton House, but she’d not seen it before. As they walked from the carriage to the entrance, she was struck by the enormous height of the columns welcoming them to the portico.

  “What do you think?” Harrison whispered.

  “Rather ostentatious.”

  “That’s Prinny for you.”

  They followed other couples into the vestibule, an octagonal room covered in plaster and ornate scrollwork. This led directly to the grand staircase.

  “This way,” Harrison said. “The ball this evening is being held in the dining room attached to the conservatory.”

  “Where are we to meet—”

  He nodded to the right. “There is an armory in that wing.” He led her down the curved staircase.

  For a moment when they entered the ballroom, Prudence allowed herself to imagine what it would be like if she were here as an invited guest of the Duke of Sutcliffe. She imagined him sweeping her onto the dance floor in a waltz, his arms holding her close. People would stop and stare, wonder who the woman was in the crimson dress who had stolen the duke’s heart. Then he’d pull her into a darkened hiding place where he would kiss her senseless, tell her how beautiful he thought her.

  Two days in the dangerous and oh-so-different life of an English spy and she was already deluding herself. When this was all over and she went back to being that simple country girl—as Harrison had so aptly called her—who lived only for her family, would she miss this brief glimpse at another life? Or would she simply miss him?

  Only a few days in his company and he already took up so much of her mind and her energy. How was that possible? And how would she ever be satisfied with her life without him?

  …

  Harrison knew he could easily get accustomed to Prudence at his side, her arm linked with his. But could he, in good conscience, continually put her in danger? How did Remy concentrate on his own assignments when he knew his wife could easily be injured in her own work? Or worse?

  He should probably dance with her, but doing so would only draw attention to them. And for the time being, they needed to be one with the crowd so he could observe. Thus far no one had recognized them. A footman walked by carrying a tray of champagne, so Harrison grabbed two flutes and handed one to Prudence.

  She gave him a shy smile that tugged on his heart.

  “Come, love,” Harrison said. “It is time for our meeting.” Harrison led Prudence back through the dining hall and up the grand staircase to the first floor where they’d find the armory. People milled about in nearly every area of the house, so large and popular were the Prince’s parties. But as they drew nearer to the armory, the crowd thinned.

  As they approached, Harrison saw a man standing near the doorway. He was quite obviously searching for someone, continually craning his neck and surveying the room. His eyes scanned the corridor as best he could with his diminished height. His ill-fitting clothes, while appropriate for the evening, were not cut specifically for him, the arms of his coat too short and the trouser legs too long. Harrison would wager the man was not gentry at all.

  Harrison sidled up to the man but kept his gaze averted. He would toss something out, see if the man reacted, or if this entire evening had been a ridiculous exercise. “I believe you’re expecting me.”

  “Sherman?” the man asked.

  “Yes,” Harrison said. He scoured his memory for anyone he knew by that name, but he came up with nothing.

  “This way,” the man responded, and he turned on his heel and walked directly into the armory.

  Prudence cut a glance at Harrison who, in turn, nodded, and they followed the man.

  The armory was a large room with weaponry displayed on every horizontal and vertical surface. Even the ceiling boasted spears and swords.

  Her gloved fingers squeezed tighter on his arm as they walked deeper into the room. She was no doubt frightened, and damned if Harrison didn’t want to turn away from this nonsense and bring her to safety. But wasn’t she safest right next to him where he could protect her himself? He would do anything to keep her safe. He owed her that much.

  “Shame about Comfry. Good man, that one,” the man said as he finally came to a stop in front of an enormous portrait of Prince George.

  “Indeed,” Harrison said.

  They stood in silence for several moments, the man glancing at the entryway that led into the armory.

  Harrison cleared his throat. “Now what?”

  “We wait,” the man said.

  “For?” Prudence asked.

  “Wait for Harrison’s instructions,” the m
an said.

  “But—”

  Harrison squeezed Prudence’s hand, stopping her question. “When are you expecting him?” he asked.

  The man’s shoulders hitched in a tight shrug. “Sometime tonight was all I was told. He’ll be here, you can always count on Harrison.”

  “Indeed you can.” The traitorous bastard was using Harrison’s identity. He’d been duped from the very beginning. He felt the fool for not seeing any of it coming, though how could he?

  “So you’ve met him before?” Prudence asked.

  The man nodded, again checked the entryway, then looked back at them. “Yuh, few times.”

  Prudence pushed past Harrison and went up to the man, put her hand on his arm.

  Harrison stepped forward to stop her, but he paused at the glint in her eyes.

  “What does he look like? Oh, I’ve heard Harrison is so very handsome.”

  The man snorted. “Handsome?” He shrugged. “I ain’t no lady, but I wouldn’t say the man is handsome.”

  Prudence tilted her head. “But he is tall, isn’t he?”

  Harrison was mesmerized. Prudence had transformed completely, with that dress and mask, into an exotic temptress. Of course he knew precisely how tempting she could be. He was realizing that Prudence was not a woman to be underestimated. She seemed utterly fearless. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

  “No one ever said you’d be bringing a woman. What’s she doing here?” the man asked Harrison.

  “She is my mistress.” Harrison pulled Prudence back so she was nuzzled next to him. Would that it were true. That tonight he could bring her to his bed and lose himself in loving her for a little while. With her curves pressed against him, desire tugged at him, but he forced it aside. He could not afford to get distracted.

  Footsteps sounded in the corridor. Three men entered the room. Two were armed guards, and the third was Lord Chester, a rather unpopular earl in the House of Lords.

  “We were told that the Duke of Sutcliffe came this way,” one of the guards said.

  The man who’d led them to the armory shook his head.

  Harrison reached for his mask, made certain it was securely attached. “What do you want with him?” he asked.

  “He’s to be arrested under suspicion for attempting to kill the prince,” the guard said.

  “I believe I should like to dance now,” Prudence said. She ran her hand down Harrison’s arm.

  He reached over and grabbed her hand to still it. Her touch was far too distracting. “Now?” he asked.

  “Yes, you promised me, darling, don’t you recall?” she asked, nodding toward the doorway.

  “You can’t leave now, we don’t have our instructions yet,” the man said in a low voice to Harrison.

  “What the lady wants, the lady gets. We’ll return shortly.” Harrison led her away. He nodded to the guards, then walked right past them.

  One of them grabbed Harrison’s arm. “Wait a moment.” It was Lord Chester. “You are the Duke of Sutcliffe.”

  “I think that’s our signal to leave, my dear.” Harrison swung back and slammed his fist into Lord Chester’s face, then ducked as one of the guards aimed a punch his way. Harrison readied his fist again, but Prudence stepped away from him.

  “Stay away, I will use this if I have to,” she said, waving a blade around.

  Harrison would kill Emma later for giving Prudence a weapon when she had no notion of how to use one. But the guards were stunned enough to back away, giving Harrison and Prudence time to run.

  It didn’t take long for the men to follow, though. Harrison kept a tight grip on Prudence’s gloved hand as they ran back down the stairs leading to the lower floor. The throng of people milled about, and Harrison pulled them directly into the crowd. They skirted the refreshment table and hurried toward the conservatory. It had the most direct door to the gardens outside.

  Weaving their way between the other party guests was as simple as swimming through molasses, but Harrison kept pushing forward.

  “Stop them!” Lord Chester yelled.

  The guards kept coming.

  Prudence shrieked as she was yanked backward by a pinch-faced matriarch.

  “Hands off my lady,” Harrison warned. His words registered and the woman released Prudence, but by then the guards had caught up with them.

  “This man is wanted for the attempted killing of the Prince Regent,” one guard said loudly.

  Harrison slammed his fist in the man’s face. Blood shot from his nose and he howled in pain. They ran for the conservatory doors. Thankfully, Remy and Emma were intercepting some would-be assistants to the guards, and Harrison was able to pull Prudence to the outdoors. Then it was merely a question of outrunning the guards and reaching a rig.

  The guard Harrison hadn’t hit continued his pursuit. Harrison stopped, took the small blade from Prudence, and threw it directly into the guard’s upper thigh. He fell to his knees. It gave them enough of a pause in the chase to get to the street, where Harrison hailed a hack.

  Prudence leaned back against the carriage seat and closed her eyes. He expected her tears to start any moment. This, no doubt, had been the most terrifying night of her life.

  “Prudence, I—”

  She giggled. “That was exhilarating.”

  He needed a moment to comprehend her words. “What? You aren’t frightened?”

  “Of course, but we escaped.”

  Then he felt himself returning her high-spirited smile.

  “And I felt safe with you.”

  Her words wove around him. He made her feel safe. She made him want more than he knew he could have. Still, he found himself saying, “You are a remarkable woman, Prudence Hixsby.”

  Chapter Four

  The moment the door to their safe house closed, Harrison pressed her back against the wall. His lips crushed down on hers and for an instant, she thought to pull away, to walk away from him and forget this entire plan of justice for her brother. Harrison was dangerous, she knew that. Just being near him had her stomach fluttering with nerves and her palms sweating. But him, this close, kissing her, it was nearly too much.

  Still, she did not walk away. Instead she looped her arms around his neck and pressed closer to him. His lips were warm and seductive, coaxing and playing with her, teasing and tormenting. She opened her mouth with a sigh and gave him entrance. Something in his touch, in his kiss, felt familiar. She wasn’t an innocent, but she also wasn’t terribly worldly. She had thought that one man’s kiss would be different from another’s. Granted, she had no basis for comparison and she’d certainly never discussed such matters with anyone. Yet Harrison’s kiss felt oddly similar to the ones she’d shared with the man she’d seduced. But she’d already eliminated Harrison from her list of possibilities.

  Forget comparisons and memories, in this moment she was in Harrison’s arms. Dangerous, sensual, and ridiculously handsome Harrison. The man she could barely look at without feeling as if the air were being squeezed from her lungs.

  His kiss deepened and he picked her up, cradled her to him, and carried her into the main room. He pressed her down onto the settee. The weight of his body felt perfect, safe, and natural, and she instinctually wanted to wrap her legs around him. Of course neither of them was dressed for such behavior. She threaded her fingers into the back of his hair, his soft brown waves that she’d thought to touch so many times.

  Harrison was kissing her!

  She wanted to yell from the rooftops, but that would spoil the moment, and she didn’t want to stop Harrison from kissing her further.

  “Seeing you with that dagger scared the life out of me,” he said in between kisses.

  “I’m glad Emma gave it to me. It certainly was helpful.”

  He shook his head. “Too dangerous.” He kissed her lips again, then kissed her cheeks, her chin. “I could take care of you, you know,” he murmured. “You smell so good.”

  “What are you talking about?” she asked.

&
nbsp; “Cloves and lemon,” he whispered.

  “No, I mean about taking care of me.”

  “This arrangement, we could make it permanent. Then I could help you, take care of your family, ensure your sisters have a proper coming out.”

  She pushed back from his kisses, met his eyes. “What arrangement?”

  “You and me. You could actually be my mistress. I’ve never seen fit to have one, but it seems as if it could be a scenario that benefits both of us.”

  Panic squeezed her heart, squeezed out every last bit of hope she’d harbored since she was but a girl, about how someday a man would come into her life and want her, love her. She wanted Harrison—that she could not deny—but not like this. “Precisely what part of it benefits me?”

  “Mistresses are well compensated. Financially. I know you and your family could use additional funds. I could even provide dowries for your sisters.”

  She stood, and moved far away from him. “I think perhaps champagne dulled your senses, and you might not remember this conversation in the morning.”

  “Prudence, I haven’t had that much to drink.”

  “So you are legitimately asking me to be your mistress?”

  “You know that I am not in a position to marry a woman such as yourself.”

  He’d referred to her as a specific type of woman before. A spinster. A woman who had been placed so high upon the shelf, she was unfit for a conventional relationship.

  “Suffice it to say, I shall give you a pass for your behavior because of the drink.” She forced a laugh, but it came out void of any humor. “I suppose that’s why they say to be careful with it. Imbibing can certainly make you behave like an arse.” Then she turned and left the room.

  Be his mistress, indeed!

  She knew he hadn’t been motivated by the champagne as he’d barely finished his glass. Still she had thrown that in his face in an effort to make herself feel better and make certain he knew never to mention it again. She closed the door to the bedchamber. It was humiliating that he thought so little of her beyond what pleasure her body might offer him. No, that wasn’t truly it. It was that his proposal reminded her of Sir Fenton’s and the night that she’d traded her virtue for her brother’s safety. Or at least thought she had. Now Harrison’s words echoed through her past, a ghost of the choice that haunted her. Could he tell that she was no longer a virgin?