The Rogue's Seduction

by Georgina Devon

  ‘Found her at last,’ Ravensford drawled.

  ‘Andrew,’ Mary Margaret, Lady Ravensford, chided in a husky voice that sounded as though she had just risen from making love. Her voice had first caught and held Ravensford’s interest. ‘Leave the man alone.’

  Ravensford took his bride’s fingers and raised them for a kiss, all the while giving her a devastating smile. ‘He would feel uncared for if I did not tease him.’

  Mary Margaret snorted. She was a beautiful woman although not in the current vogue. She was dark where blonde was fashionable. Her figure was full-busted and slim-hipped. But her eyes were her best feature, brilliant as finest emeralds; they showed compassion and depth. Ravensford doted on her.

  ‘Ignore him, Perth,’ she said.

  ‘Always,’ Perth said, suiting action to word by rising and leaving.

  On stage the dance continued. In the pit, those who could not afford seats or boxes watched for any sight of delicately turned ankles. Perth ignored it all as he made his way to the Russells’ box.

  His knock was curt and he entered before permission was granted. He scowled.

  ‘Perth,’ Madeline Russell trilled. ‘Do join us. We are become quite a party.’

  Chillings, sitting at his ease beside Lillith, waved languidly. ‘All the world’s a stage, as the Bard said,’ he drawled.

  ‘So it would seem,’ Perth replied, pulling a chair up to Lillith’s other side.

  He nodded at Madeline Russell, who watched everything with an avid gleam in her eye while her husband had a more sanguine look. Perth nodded to him.

  ‘Been following your bill in the House of Commons,’ Russell said. ‘Heavy going. Let me know if there is anything I can do to help.’ Nathan Russell had influence in the Lower House and would be a valuable ally.

  ‘Thank you, I will.’ He turned his attention to Lillith, who laughed at something Chillings had said. ‘I did not know you like the opera.’

  She turned a cool gaze to him. ‘There are many things you do not know about me.’

  ‘And many things I do,’ he said low, his voice a husk as memory caught his gut and twisted it.

  Chillings watched the interaction between them. ‘I believe I must be going.’ He bowed to Lillith and looked pointedly at Perth. ‘I will be at Brook’s later.’

  Perth nodded.

  No sooner than Chillings was gone than another knock sounded on the door. The Prince of Wales entered with Wentworth in his wake. Everyone stood before the men bowed and the ladies curtsied. Behind the Prince’s back, Lillith’s brother smirked.

  ‘Mrs Russell, Lady de Lisle.’ The Prince took a hand of each of them. ‘I could not resist such beauty.’ He slanted a glance at his friend. ‘And Mathias here insisted on visiting with his sister.’

  Perth said cynically, ‘It seems that living with her is not enough.’

  Silence fell and tension mounted. Lillith, resenting the fact that once more she must play peacemaker between her brother and the man who had been her lover, said, ‘Mathias has joined me in London because he knows how I hate to stay alone in a house as large as mine.’

  No one said a word.

  Madeline jumped into the fray. ‘We are delighted to have you, your Highness. Can we offer you some wine?’ She gestured to the opened bottle and empty glasses.

  The Prince, never one to deny himself pleasure, accepted. When he sat down, Mathias held his arm out to Lillith.

  ‘Come walk a moment with me, Lillith,’ he said, his tone an order.

  Lillith’s hackles rose but, with Perth so close and ready to pounce on Mathias for any reason, she stood. Better to keep the two men apart. They had never got on well, but lately it seemed as though something had happened to make everything worse.

  She laid her hand on Mathias’s arm and allowed him to escort her from the box. She heard a chair scrape behind her and turned to see Perth getting to his feet. She frowned at him and shook her head. His eyes narrowed, but he did not follow and she breathed a sigh of relief.

  Out in the corridors it was colder than the box. She released Mathias’s arm to pull her shawl closer.

  ‘What do you wish to discuss?’ she asked, impatient with him because she knew he meant to scold her.

  ‘You should not encourage Perth. I have told you before, he offers nothing honourable.’

  Lillith’s mouth thinned. Perth was more honourable than her brother allowed. It was love the Earl did not offer.

  ‘We have been down this road before and it goes nowhere,’ she said testily. ‘Should I pursue Viscount Chillings? It seems that he left your party to join mine tonight. Did you suggest it?’

  A gloating smile made Mathias’s cheeks puff out. ‘You have been widowed a year. It is time you looked to remarry. Chillings would make a good match. He is a widower, so the two of you would have something in common. And a man, once married, tends to marry again.’

  A young woman carrying oranges passed them, casting a curious glance their way. Her presence reminded Lillith that they were not private.

  ‘This is not the place to discuss this, Mathias.’

  He shrugged. ‘There is never a good time to discuss matrimony.’

  Still, he turned them back toward the Russells’ box. He opened the door without knocking and angled Lillith in ahead of him. The Prince had already left, but Perth sat where she had left him, a brooding darkness on his face.

  The Earl stood abruptly. ‘Lady de Lisle, Mrs Russell, I would be delighted if you would join me for a ride in Rotten Row tomorrow. It will be cold, but invigorating.’ His words included everyone, but his eyes held Lillith’s.

  She shivered and opened her mouth to refuse but Madeline beat her. ‘Why, Perth, we would be delighted. Wouldn’t we, Nathan? Lillith?’ She shot Lillith a quelling glance that said louder than words that they were going on this outing.

  Lillith turned away. Madeline was an inveterate matchmaker no matter who the couple was. Earlier she had tried as blatantly to put Chillings with Lillith.

  ‘Lillith is already engaged to me,’ Mathias said, his face dark with irritation.

  In spite of trying to keep her face impassive, Lillith’s muscles tightened in rebellion. Mathias was only trying to keep her from Perth’s company, which was no bad thing. She said nothing.

  ‘It seems that Lady de Lisle dances to your tune once more,’ Perth said, his tone dangerously close to insulting.

  Silence reigned as everyone watched Mathias, wondering if he would take offence or let the tone go. He was known as a man who avoided duels. He stiffened and his hands squeezed Lillith’s arm. Then he released her and stepped away.

  ‘You would do well to remember that, Perth,’ Mathias said before turning and leaving with poor grace.

  Perth, a knowing look on his face, took his leave, saying, ‘I shall look forward to seeing you another time, Lady de Lisle.’

  Madeline, vastly enjoying herself, held out her hand for Perth to kiss in the Continental way. The Earl obliged her while Nathan Russell looked on with amusement at his wife’s antics. Then, before Lillith realised what Perth was about, he took her fingers and raised them to his lips. This contact had to stop. Most Englishmen did not greet women this way. But she could no more find it in herself to deny herself this pleasure than she could root out the love she felt for him.

  His eyes held hers as his mouth touched the fine leather of her gloves. The intimacy of his look intensified her unreasonable desire. She knew only too well how his mouth felt on her bare flesh. She flushed and pulled her hand away.

  Perth nodded and left.

  ‘He is devilishly handsome,’ Madeline said. ‘Any woman would be beside herself to receive such marked attention from him.’

  Lillith frowned as she surreptitiously wiped her hand down her skirts. Somehow she had to forget the feel of his flesh on hers. ‘I am not any woman,’ she said acerbically.

  Madeline became comforting. ‘And nor should you be. He would not be so interested if you were.’
>
  Lillith turned away from her friend’s knowing eyes. If she had not wanted Perth’s attentions then she should not have come to Town for she had known this would happen. She had, in fact, longed for it. Now the intensity of their meetings scared her more than when he had abducted her. She began to think that perhaps he truly cared for her since he pursued her so diligently. But no. He wanted revenge.

  It was painful to remind herself that he wanted revenge for what had happened so long ago, but she had to remember. Otherwise she would fall into his arms and be miserable for the rest of her life, always loving him and wanting him to love her. For she knew him well enough to know that, where he did not love, he would not be faithful. It would kill her to be married to him and have him turn to another woman.

  She sighed. That was not the life she wanted.

  As soon as Perth exited the Russells’ box, he left the opera. Ravensford would wonder, but he would not worry. Outside, the weather was cold and wet. Fog blanketed the streets so that not even the light from a linkboy’s flambeau could provide more than ten feet of visibility. Brook’s was a distance from here but, the mood he was in, Perth knew the walk would do him good. He was balked of his goal, and he was too active for this sedentary London life.

  He set out with long strides, his cane swinging at his side. The night air was brisk and he needed that to ease some of the heat his meeting with Lillith had created. No matter how many times he saw her, or how he tried to win her, she resisted him.

  He hit the cane against the street in frustration. She wanted things he could not, would not, give. He had loved her once, he would not make that mistake again.

  He increased his pace until he turned the corner of the street where Brook’s stood. Inside the exclusive club it was warm, smoky and dimly lit.

  Perth shrugged out of his greatcoat and gave it to the nearby footman. Somewhere here, Chillings waited for him, if he had not misunderstood the Viscount. Rather than ask a servant for the Viscount’s whereabouts, Perth set out on his own. He found Chillings ensconced in a leather wing chair in a dark corner with a decanter of amber liquid and two glasses on the table beside him. Another chair sat opposite. Perth took it.

  ‘Whisky?’ Chillings asked by way of hello. ‘I had it brought specially.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Perth said, accepting the offered glass.

  For long minutes, neither spoke. Each drank a glass of whisky and poured another. Someone smoked cheroots across the room. Someone else smoked a pipe. The haze curled around the chandelier and the branches of candles. A roaring fire added its particular scent and fuzz to the air.

  Chillings pulled a snuffbox from his jacket pocket, flicked open the lid and offered some to Perth. ‘It is the Beau’s own mix.’

  Chillings had been a particular friend of Beau Brummell’s and had stuck by the man even after Brummell had his falling-out with the Prince of Wales. If talk was true, Chillings had also lent quite a sum of money to the Beau and never gotten it back. He was not the only one.

  ‘No, thank you,’ Perth said. ‘I am not a snuff taker.’ He finished his second glass while the Viscount took a pinch of snuff and with a flick of his wrist sniffed the concoction. Never a patient man, Perth broke the carefully created calm between them. ‘Why did you ask me here?’

  Chillings raised one coal-black brow so that it nearly met the premature grey of his hair that hung in one rakish lock over his high forehead. ‘I thought that was obvious—the lovely Lady de Lisle.’

  The muscles in Perth’s shoulders tightened into painful knots. His voice, however, was non-committal. ‘I was not aware that we had something to discuss pertaining to her.’

  ‘Enough prevaricating,’ Chillings said. ‘Life is too short to allow misunderstanding to ruin a friendship or to let pride keep one from going after what one wants.’ He put the delicately enamelled snuffbox back in his pocket and took a swig of whisky. ‘Believe me, I know.’

  Perth set his empty glass down and waited.

  ‘Lady de Lisle is an extraordinary woman and not at all in the common way. Any man would be interested in her—if he were not already engaged elsewhere.’ Chillings met Perth eye to eye. ‘I enjoy her company, but that is as far as it goes. I was in her box because her brother asked me to pay attention to her as a favour. It seems she lacks for male company.’ He said the last blandly.

  ‘Or the kind Wentworth deems appropriate,’ Perth said.

  ‘That too.’ Chillings finished his drink and stood. He held out his hand. ‘Friends?’

  Perth rose and took the other’s hand. ‘I wish you the best of luck with the lady who has caught your fancy.’

  Chillings laughed ruefully. ‘I shall need all the luck I can get. She is a high-flyer, new to Town, and not at all interested in becoming a cyprian. I hope to convince her otherwise.’

  ‘You will succeed. But, in the meantime, how about a hand of cards?’

  In charity with one another, they moved to a room where groups played all manner of gambling games. Before they could settle at a table, Chillings walked to where the Betting Book was kept. He flipped it open to the last page and motioned Perth over.

  ‘I saw you in here with Ravensford several days ago. Were you checking to see if someone had written anything about you and Lady de Lisle?’

  Perth eyed the Viscount. ‘Ravensford insisted.’

  ‘But you knew there would be nothing,’ Chillings said.

  ‘What do you mean by that?’ Perth asked, careful to keep any hint of suspicion from his voice.

  ‘Oh, I think you know exactly what I mean.’ Instead of pursuing the topic, Chillings turned away. ‘Are you up to faro tonight, Perth? I feel like taking a risk.’

  Perth laughed. ‘If I can be guaranteed a turn at being the bank, I will be more than happy to indulge your desire.’

  The two made their way to the table where a game of faro was in action. Perth knew Chillings was done speaking of the Betting Book, but he still wondered how much the Viscount knew. If he knew everything, he had been very discreet throughout the past months. And if that were so, he knew he could trust the man when Chillings said he was not interested in Lillith.

  But Perth knew Wentworth would stop at nothing to ensure that he married Lillith off to the highest bidder once more, a man who would be willing to pay Wentworth’s debts. He intended to have her for himself, but he’d be damned if he would pay Wentworth’s gambling debts in the bargain.

  Days later, Lillith paced her bedchamber. The large airy room, done in shades of lavender and blue, normally eased her nerves. This morning she knew nothing would help. Her stomach roiled and she had already lost what little breakfast she had managed to eat. Each passing day made it harder to deny what her body told her.

  ‘My lady,’ Agatha said, ‘your guests will be here shortly. I still need to fix your hair.’

  Lillith sighed. She and Madeline and Nathan were going for a picnic in the country. Madeline had said she would invite some others to go with them, but it was Lillith’s gathering and they would all be meeting here. At the time she had proposed it, it had seemed a delightful diversion and a good effort to do something that might, if only for a couple hours, keep her mind from Perth. Now she was tired and grumpy with a digestive system that refused to cooperate. She wished she might claim sickness, but dared not.

  She pressed her hand to her abdomen as she sat for Agatha’s ministration. She had been waking up sick for the last three weeks. She was also more tired than usual.

  ‘Ouch,’ she said, tears springing to her eyes. ‘Do be careful, Agatha.’ It seemed the maid was less gentle than normal.

  ‘Pardon, my lady. I did not mean to hurt you.’

  Lillith sighed. ‘I know you did not.’

  Her thoughts whirled around. What if her fear was true? What if she was carrying Perth’s child? No. It was impossible. Nine years of marriage had never ended in this—surely three nights could not?

  ‘Bring me the green shawl,’ she said, forcing her thoug
hts to her toilet. ‘And the bonnet trimmed in green satin and apple blossoms.’

  ‘Yes, my lady.’

  Agatha rushed to do her bidding. Lillith stood and started pacing before she caught herself. Enough of this.

  She donned the clothing and swept from the room, intent on ignoring the rumblings of her stomach, though she knew from experience that it would be lunchtime before she got relief. Right now she needed to make sure that Cook had everything packed and that the coach was ready. That would take her mind off the other things.

  Agatha ran after her with the apple-green pelisse.

  Thirty minutes later, Lillith was assured that everything was as complete as she could possibly make them. And not a minute too soon. She heard the knocker and the sound of the door opening.

  ‘Mr and Mrs Russell,’ the butler announced just as the knocker went again.

  Lillith moved to take Madeline’s outstretched hands. Nathan stepped aside and smiled as the two of them hugged.

  ‘You are positively glowing,’ Madeline gushed, moving back.

  ‘Thank you,’ Lillith said, grinning and making a short curtsy. ‘You are delightful as well. Going on a picnic suits you.’

  ‘A perfect idea,’ Madeline said, releasing her light, trilling laughter. ‘To go at this time of year is even more enticing. Town can be so boring during the Little Season, with so many staying in the country, that a picnic in questionable weather adds spice.’ She laughed again. ‘You always were one for doing the unexpected.’

  Lillith laughed as well, enjoying her friend’s pleasure in this unusual adventure. ‘Let us hope it does not snow. Who else did you manage to coerce into taking this risk with us?’ Lillith asked.

  Madeline glanced at her husband and some of the laughter left her face. ‘Well, you see…Nathan ran into Lord Ravensford and his wife riding in Rotten Row. Yesterday. And…’

  She trailed off as the butler opened the door again and announced, ‘Lord and Lady Ravensford and Lord Perth.’