The Rogue's Seduction

by Georgina Devon

  Unhappy with the entire situation, she urged her mare into a canter, hoping to leave the others behind. Disappointment pierced her as she heard the clop of another horse’s hooves.

  ‘You are free with your favors,’ Perth said, his voice rough.

  He caught up with her and for a moment she thought he intended to reach for her reins. He obviously thought better of it, but his hands clenched on his own reins.

  She glanced sideways at him. ‘As are you. Lady Annabelle is a very interesting woman.’

  ‘That she is,’ he murmured. ‘But I have not made love to her.’

  The blush that would not come for Mr Carstairs flared into existence. Heat scorched Lillith. ‘Be quiet,’ she ordered. ‘Someone will hear.’

  He glanced back. ‘They are too far away. Besides,’ he scowled at her, ‘Carstairs might as well know now that his chances are non-existent.’

  Her hands jerked on the reins, causing her mount to prance. She leaned forward and soothed the mare with strokes along its neck. ‘That is not your decision.’

  The scar running the length of Perth’s right cheek whitened. ‘By heavens it is. You are mine, Lillith, whether you admit it or not.’

  Her brows snapped together. ‘I am no one’s plaything, sirruh. And most definitely not yours.’

  Anger turned Perth’s eyes black.

  ‘I thought I told you to stay away from my sister?’ Mathias’s voice separated them.

  Lillith jumped. She had been so involved in her fight with Perth that she had not heard her brother approach. Anyone else from the party might have interrupted them and neither of them would have known it until the other person had overheard everything.

  What was happening to her? Not even her sense of self-preservation worked when Perth was near. Heaven help her.

  Perth cast Mathias a contemptuous glance. ‘I do as I please, Wentworth. You should know that by now.’

  ‘Then go and flirt with Lady Annabelle,’ Mathias said with a nasty twist of his mouth. ‘That seemed to please you well enough, and leave my sister alone.’

  Perth’s lips thinned. He nodded to Lillith. ‘We shall discuss this later.’

  He turned his horse and cantered back to join the other three where he positioned himself beside Lady Annabelle. Anger at Mathias mixed badly with the anger she felt toward Perth and the jealousy Lady Annabelle generated.

  ‘Stay out of my affairs, Mathias,’ she said flatly.

  His face red enough to cause an apoplexy, he retorted, ‘You act like a harlot around that man. How many times must I tell you he is not for you? You need to remarry and Perth will not do.’

  Her hands clenched the reins. ‘What I do with Perth is my concern, not yours. Nor do I need to remarry.’ Her mouth twisted bitterly. ‘My marriage was not so enjoyable that I am anxious to repeat the experience. And I don’t have to. De Lisle left me a wealthy woman, as you should know since he appointed you the trustee of my estate.’

  For a second his eyes shifted from hers before he returned his gaze to her and said, ‘You are a headstrong woman, Lillith, and it will bring you nothing but trouble. Already everyone is talking about you and Perth. Will you have them decide the two of you are having an affair? Do you intend to be one of those widows who become the acknowledged mistress of a wealthy man? For that is where you are headed.’

  She said nothing. There was too much truth in his words. Her fury turned inwards.

  ‘Besides,’ Mathias continued in a more reasonable tone, ‘it has been over a year since de Lisle’s death. ’Tis past time you remarried. Carstairs or Chillings would be perfect.’

  She stared straight ahead and, even through her irritation, suspicion began to show. ‘Why are you so intent on my remarrying, Mathias? I have plenty of money from de Lisle’s settlement. And a new husband might not be so eager to have you live with us as has been your wont the past six months.’

  It was long moments before Mathias answered, as though he considered his words carefully. ‘A woman who has enjoyed the marriage bed once is more likely to seek such pleasure elsewhere if she is not wed again. And you need a man’s hand and guidance. You are far too attracted to Perth for your own good. Another man would keep him from your thoughts and your side. I am only thinking of you.’

  ‘You are saying that you think I am a trollop and too weak to manage on my own.’ She gave him a hard look. ‘You are insulting me.’

  ‘No, no.’ He raised one gloved hand in protest.

  She studied him. He was her only living relative. Her brother. But there were times when she wondered if she was the only one of them to care that their relationship was all the family they had left. When she managed to think about Mathias with her head and not her emotions, she realised that he treated her like an object that was his to dispose of as he willed. It was not a pleasant thought and she tried to keep herself from it. Unfortunately, since Perth had re-entered her life, the knowledge had been forced upon her that she was always the one to reach out to Mathias—unless her brother had need of money. Then he came to her.

  Whatever else Mathias might have said, and what she might have replied, never happened. The rest of their party caught up with them and this time she was very much aware of their coming close.

  She gave everyone a false smile. ‘My brother has decided to continue on his ride by himself or with the rest of you if you so please. My apologies, but I have matters to attend to at home.’

  She glanced at their faces. Surprise on Lady Annabelle’s, disappointment on Mr Carstairs’s, consideration on Chillings’s and, of course, sardonic acceptance on Perth’s. Her brother she ignored. She left without another word.

  Perth watched her go, noting the stiffness of her ramrod back. Whatever Wentworth had been prattling about, it had infuriated Lillith. He considered that a good thing. She was too controlled by her brother and it would do her good to stand up to him. Particularly since he had an instinct that Wentworth had gone beyond the bounds of what even a loving sister could accept—or so he hoped.

  Lillith lifted her aching head from the chamber pot. Her bleeding was three months late. She could no longer deny the truth. She carried Perth’s child.

  She rocked back on her heels and fell backwards so she sat on the floor. One hand slipped to her still flat belly. All these years of thinking herself barren, listening to de Lisle berate her for her inability to conceive.

  She was not sure if she felt joy or despair. She had always wanted children, but over the last years she had finally reached a sort of dispassionate acceptance that she would never have any. Her second hand strayed to her waist.

  In six months she would have a child.

  Wonder held her for long minutes. Would she have a boy or a girl? It did not matter.

  But what about Perth?

  If Perth learned of her condition, he would force marriage on her. He would feel it his duty and to do less would besmirch his honour. She had no doubt that the abduction of months ago would be as nothing compared to what he would do this time. She would not put it past him to hire a minister to join them against her protests. A powerful nobleman could do many things.

  That was not what she wanted.

  She levered herself to a standing position and crossed to the window. Outside night was descending. In what light was left, she could make out a cold drizzle. A carriage rumbled by, the inside a golden glow. Someone headed to a dinner party, and then perhaps to the opera or the theatre.

  She sighed and her warm breath left a cloud on the glass. She rubbed the fog away, noting the chill that came through.

  She did not want another marriage of convenience. And especially not with Perth. It would be the end of too many girlish dreams that she had cherished in spite of all the facts that said her chances for a love match with him were gone.

  But what of her child? Could she condemn it to be a bastard because of her own cowardice?

  She turned from the window and went to sink in a chair in front of the roaring fire. Warmth
eased away some of the chill that still held her. Her hands fluttered listlessly before setting once more on her stomach.

  She could go to the Continent, have the child and leave it with a couple who would care for it. She knew of women who did that. Her heart wrenched. No, she could never do that.

  She closed her eyes and wished life was easier, but it was not. This child she carried was hers, and she would keep it and raise it with all the love she had to give.

  But she would not go to Perth with this news.

  She would go to her Dower House and wait for the birth. She would lie, tell everyone that she met and married the babe’s father during the time she disappeared. If need be, she would go to the Continent in the spring, have the child and return. No one would believe her, but it did not matter. Other noble families raised bastards and the children were accepted into Society. Hers would be too.

  Her decision made, she stood. ‘Agatha.’

  The maid looked in from the dressing room where she had been making minor repairs to some of Lillith’s dresses. ‘Yes, my lady?’

  ‘We are leaving first thing in the morning for the Dower House.’

  The maid nodded. It was normal for her mistress to return to the country at this time of year.

  The decision made and the order to pack understood by her maid, Lillith felt a weight lift from her heart. She would go to the country, bear her child and raise that child on her own. She would not look back with regret to this choice. The child would be enough for the rest of her life.

  She could not have Perth. She would have his child.

  Chapter Eleven

  Perth stared morosely at the fire.

  A month after coming to Town, he was no nearer his goal for the returning army veterans or his pursuit of Lillith. Bitter frustration soured his mood. As did Fitch’s reproachful looks. The manservant chose that moment to enter the library.

  Caught in regret and guilt, Perth said testily, ‘I have asked her a dozen times to marry me. Does that satisfy your pinched idea of responsibility?’

  ‘Pardon me, my lord,’ Fitch said with a voice that would have curdled milk, ‘but have you told her that you love her?’

  Perth drew himself up. ‘I do not lie, no matter what the cost.’

  Fitch made a noise under his breath. ‘You have been doing a pretty good job of it for the last ten years.’

  ‘You go too far.’

  Perth’s voice would have frozen another person. Fitch had been with the Earl too long and gone through too much. War had a way of forging relationships.

  ‘I believe you have done that on your own, my lord.’

  ‘Get out.’

  Fitch did so without a qualm.

  Perth rose and went to a table where a decanter full of good Scotch whisky awaited his pleasure. He poured a glassful and downed it in several gulps. The alcohol burned down his throat and exploded in his stomach. It changed nothing.

  ‘Damnation!’

  He threw the glass at the fireplace where it shattered against the brick. There was only one thing to do.

  Less than an hour later, Perth stood in front of Lillith’s door. The night air rifled through his greatcoat and whispered down his neck. The flambeau held by the linkboy he had hired to light his way blew out. It did not matter. He had already seen all he needed. The knocker was gone. She had left Town.

  He banged on the door anyway. With luck she had left a couple of servants to care for the empty house. He had only to rouse them.

  ‘My lord,’ the boy said hesitantly.

  Never one to take his anger out on someone less fortunate than himself, Perth reached in his pocket and tossed the youth a Golden boy. ‘You may go.’

  The youth had managed to relight his flambeau and in its flickering light he saw what he held. ‘Thank you. Thank you much, my lord,’ he said, his joy in such bounty showing on his face. He bowed and hurried away as though fearing Perth would realise how much he had given and demand it back.

  Perth hardly noticed that the boy had left. He pounded harder. Someone had to be here. He would find them if he had to go around to the back and beat on every door there. He would break in through a window if he must.

  Although, once he stopped and thought, he knew where she had to be, or where he hoped she had gone to—her Dower House. If she had gone to the Continent instead, he would be hard pressed to find her. But it was a strong possibility. Since Napoleon’s final defeat, all of the ton was flocking to Europe. If she had gone there, her servants would know where and getting that information from them would save him weeks of time. For he would find her.

  When no one answered he swore under his breath and headed for the back. All the windows were dark, making him fear that she had not left anyone here. He banged on the door and looked in all the windows. Not a glimmer of light. Nor did anyone answer his banging.

  There was one other place he could go. Madeline Russell would know where Lillith was.

  Not wanting to waste time going to his own house for a horse, Perth hired a carriage to take him to Nathan and Madeline Russell’s small town home. Their house was lit up and through the windows he could see people milling. They might not be wealthy, but they were well liked. Some of the tension that had lent him speed seeped out and his shoulder muscles eased.

  Without a qualm, he strode up the steps and knocked. He did not care that he would be arriving uninvited to what appeared to be a small gathering. The butler answered immediately.

  ‘Tell Mrs Russell that the Earl of Perth is here to see her,’ Perth said, not bothering to take off his beaver hat or hand over his gold-tipped cane.

  No emotion showed on the servant’s face. ‘If you will come with me, my lord, I will inform Madam of your presence.’

  Perth found himself in a charming little room done in pinks and baby blues. It was far from fashionable, but he found that the colours amused him. They were something he could easily imagine Madeline Russell choosing. He did not sit. Time was of the essence.

  The door opened and Madeline Russell came in. Her auburn hair was curled around her face and her evening gown was fine white muslin. Unlike her very unconventional room, she was very much in vogue.

  Perth forced a smile. ‘Mrs Russell, I am sorry to intrude on you like this, but I need to know where Lady de Lisle has gone.’

  Madeline’s eyes widened. She cast a quick look over her shoulder to see if anyone had heard Perth. Relieved that no one could have, she closed the door behind her.

  She looked Perth straight in the eye. ‘Why do you want to know?’

  Instead of the irritation Lillith’s challenges always caused him, he found Madeline Russell’s directness calming. But he was not about to reveal his business to her.

  ‘I did not come here to be questioned, Mrs Russell. I came here for information. The sooner I have it, the sooner I will leave you to return to your guests.’

  Her mouth pursed. ‘Lillith has had enough of your high-handed ways, Perth, and I quite agree with her. If you cannot be bothered to give me a very good reason why I should betray her confidence, then I won’t.’ She stood her ground.

  The temptation to leave and search for Lillith without any knowledge of her whereabouts was strong. Undoubtedly she was at her Dower House. But he could not be sure.

  He gritted his teeth, all calmness at the situation gone. ‘You are an impertinent minx. I imagine Russell more than has his hands full with you.’

  She nodded and crossed her arms over her chest. ‘Flattery will get you nothing,’ she replied sweetly.

  ‘Damned if it won’t,’ Perth muttered under his breath, for he had had more than his share of conquests by using charm. The stubborn look on the woman’s face told him it would not work this time. ‘Very well, I intend to ask her to marry me.’

  Madeline’s face softened. ‘That is all well and good and something you should do, but I am not sure that is enough.’

  He ground his teeth. ‘It will have to be enough. I can offer nothing else.’<
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  She studied him, noting the way he stood on the balls of his feet, ready to pounce. His scar was white. His eyes were hard. He needed Lillith. Perhaps that was enough for now.

  ‘She has gone to her Dower House.’

  ‘I thought as much,’ Perth said in disgust. ‘And I have wasted well over an hour making sure. Thank you, Mrs Russell, I shall be going now.’

  ‘Tut, tut, Perth. She might just as well have gone to the Continent.’ Madeline’s eyes clouded. ‘And she probably should have.’

  Perth stopped on his way to the door. ‘What do you mean by that?’ But he had a sharp, tight feeling in his gut.

  She turned so that she could look him in the eye. ‘That is something I don’t intend to divulge. If you must know, then it should come from her.’

  Perth nodded curtly.

  He strode from the room and out of the house. Urgency drove him now more than ever. The sharp twist of his gut intensified. Fierce pride mingled with desire and an urge to protect.

  He must get to Lillith.

  He stood on the pavement in front of Madeline Russell’s house and swung his cane to and fro in irritation. Not one carriage had passed this way in the last fifteen minutes, and it was a long walk to his house in Grosvenor Square. There was nothing else to be done. He set off, his long strides eating up the distance.

  Fog swirled around his feet. The cold night air bit through his many-caped greatcoat. Occasionally, the candle glow from the window of a passing house lit his way. He increased his pace. There was no time to lose. Always he was on the lookout for a carriage that might be for hire. He was sorely tempted to knock on one of the doors he passed and offer to pay them any amount they wanted for a horse.

  He paused at a likely place. He could smell a stable, which meant there might be a horse. But there were no lights.

  Footsteps sounded behind him and across the street. He had been hearing them for some time but had assumed they were someone else out on this night. He flicked a glance over his shoulder in curiosity.