Never Trust a Scoundrel

by Gayle Callen

  “I can say that I, too, enjoy winning.”

  Their hostess looked curiously between them.

  “Mr. Throckmorten,” Beverly said, “Miss Banbury only recently arrived in London. I will be sponsoring her at all the best events of the Season.”

  “She is very lucky to have your help,” he said.

  Grace smiled at her old friend. “I agree.”

  Beverly nodded as if she were embarrassed at the praise. “Mr. Throckmorten, I hope you will make her feel welcomed by making sure all the young men ask her to dance.”

  “I’m certain I will be at the head of the line,” he said.

  Grace barely resisted rolling her eyes. “If there is a young lady you are paying calls to, please don’t let me interfere.”

  “There is no one I am interested in, but thank you.”

  “Mama!” The wail drifted down the staircase from the second floor.

  Beverly sighed.

  A servant hurried in. “Lady Standish, please don’t concern yourself. The nurse assures me that—”

  “Mama!” This time it was a shriek.

  Beverly rose to her feet and gave Grace an apologetic look. “Please excuse me for a moment. It is almost dinnertime, and her nerves are often frayed when her little belly is empty.”

  She strode from the room like a maternal whirlwind, leaving the door to the corridor wide open.

  Grace gave Mr. Throckmorten a wary look, but he didn’t notice because he was gazing down her body with an intense stare. She inhaled, feeling a little fluttery, a little unsure of herself. He had obviously masked his intentions for Beverly’s benefit, but now he was making it very obvious what he was thinking.

  Winning the challenge.

  Chapter 4

  Daniel allowed the silence to continue for a few moments, until he thought Grace wanted to squirm. She looked so moral, so prudish, as if she couldn’t believe what he might try.

  It made him hard. By the devil, everything about her made him hard.

  “You followed me here,” she said in a low, cool voice.

  “Of course. You’ll be seeing a lot of me. Who knows where I’ll turn up?”

  She narrowed her eyes at him.

  “Who is the little boy you’ve enlisted to follow me?” he asked.

  Her lovely cheeks blushed, though he imagined she willed them not to.

  She lifted her chin. “My brother’s groom.”

  “He’s not bad for a lad. I might try harder to lose him tomorrow.”

  “Do you have something to hide?” She batted her lashes sweetly.

  “No, but I enjoy upsetting your plans for me.”

  “Oh, believe me, sir, I have not even begun my plans.”

  “Well, that’s good to hear. I would have been disappointed otherwise.”

  Clenching her jaw, she glanced at the open door. He knew she would not want anyone to overhear their scandalous conversation. So he slowly rose, avoiding even a glance at her, although he was aware that she stiffened as if he were going to pounce. And it was a tempting thought. But instead he strolled casually about the drawing room, looking at knickknacks and paintings until he came to the sunny window behind the sofa Grace was seated upon. They were now only several feet apart, and she did not turn to look at him.

  “You look lovely in that green gown, Grace,” he said in a low voice.

  He thought she’d be offended at his use of her Christian name.

  “Thank you, Daniel.”

  He wasn’t surprised that it would take more than that to ruffle her. She had spirit along with her tempting innocence.

  “Christian names,” he murmured. “That speaks of a new intimacy.”

  “Or rudeness.”

  “Then allow me to be even more rude when I say that the color brings out your eyes—”

  “Why, thank you,” she interrupted.

  He smiled to himself at her disappointed tone. Did she think he was so unoriginal?

  “You didn’t let me finish. The color also manages to make the skin above your breasts even more creamy.”

  He heard her inhale but not release her breath.

  “You cannot see such a thing!” she whispered fiercely. “My neckline rises to my throat!”

  He could not stop himself from glancing over his shoulder to watch her. “I can imagine. I want to lick you there, and trace a wet path down between your breasts.”

  She finally remembered to breathe, but it was a faint little gasp that made his stomach tighten. Now simple breathing was enough to make passion rise in him?

  She tilted her pretty little head, her light brown curls bouncing, and he wished he could see her expression. But he preferred being just behind her, making her wonder at what he would do next. He found it…exciting to think that he might be the only one who’d ever spoken to her this way, had ever tried to seduce her with words alone.

  But of course he planned to do so much more. It already obsessed his thoughts, and he’d only just begun…

  “What will you taste like?” he mused softly.

  He could see her hand clutch the pillow beside her.

  “Hmm, strawberries and cream, I imagine.” He dropped his voice to a guttural whisper. “Creamy flesh, strawberry pink nip—”

  “I’m back!” Beverly called from the corridor.

  He turned his head and looked back out the window, but not before he saw how Grace’s hand trembled when she straightened it upon that dainty lace pillow. The first round surely went to him, he thought with satisfaction.

  But he was uncomfortably aroused and hoped he could get away with standing behind the sofa for a while yet.

  Grace woke up just after dawn. The first thing on her mind was the last thing she’d thought of before sleeping: Daniel Throckmorten’s outrageous behavior at the Standish home. She shuddered and closed her eyes, biting back a moan. She could still hear his deep, rough voice saying words she hadn’t imagined a man would say in broad daylight.

  She would certainly not allow his scandalous words to affect her. After dressing, she went searching for Edward’s groom/valet. After finding him in the stables, she brought him inside and made him some toast and eggs.

  “So how did your assignment go yesterday, Will?”

  He looked guilty, a bit of egg still in the corner of his mouth. “I didn’t do too good a job. He spotted me quick, he did. Flipped me a coin, and said to keep up the good work.”

  She sighed. “So what did the gentleman do?”

  “Went ridin’ first thing, and I found out from his groom he does that near every mornin’.”

  Will told her about a bank Daniel had visited, and a lawyer’s office, and even several businesses and a factory. It seemed the man was far busier than her brother usually was.

  “He even visited a fancy mansion near Mayfair in the afternoon,” Will said.

  “I know, I was there,” Grace said ruefully.

  “After eatin’ at his club, he sent me out a pastry like I never had afore,” Will added blissfully.

  If she weren’t careful, Daniel would win the boy over to his side.

  “Then he went to a blazin’ palace on Park Lane,” Will said with obvious awe. “I asked a coachman, and it were Madingley House, miss. But he doesn’t live there. Got his own town house, he does. I forgot to tell ye—when I was comin’ home late yesterday, I saw a man watchin’ the house.”

  She frowned thoughtfully. “What did he look like?”

  “Don’t know—he left afore I got close. Since Mr. Throckmorten knows I’m watchin’ him, could he have someone watchin’ you?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know, Will. I’ll have to find out.”

  “I already saddled the ’orse,” Will said. “Mr. Edward don’t need it until afternoon. And you bein’ up so early, thought ye might have a reason.”

  Grace ruffled his hair. “You’re a smart one, Will.”

  “Ye want me to follow him again today?”

  “Not right now,” she said, not wanting
the boy to see what she’d planned for Daniel. “I’ll let you know.”

  Daniel never missed a morning ride. It was not an hour past dawn, and fog was hovering low over the Serpentine in the middle of Hyde Park. There were only a few riders at this time of the morning, and he felt alone and peaceful.

  He thought of Grace, the woman he wanted in his bed. She could not be more different than his last mistress, a woman of the world, used to expecting the finer things in life in exchange for the pleasures of her body. Last month, she’d asked to be released from their arrangement. She had begun to want more intimacy than he could give her, even though he’d warned her from the beginning—as he did all his women—that their companionship would not turn into more.

  But Grace would be a different mistress. He fully expected to make her as eager for his touch as he felt for hers. He had almost debated attending the musicale that Lady Standish had undoubtedly dragged Grace to last night. Now that would have caused a sensation, and it would have been far too obvious that he’d come only for her, since he never attended such affairs.

  Instead, he’d gone to Madingley House and had his weekly fill of the loud voices and merriment of his uncle and aunt and cousins.

  But not his mother, he thought, feeling the old twinge of unease that he had buried for so many years. She had not been to London since his father’s death. He didn’t think she cared about rumors that might still be lingering twenty years later. She socialized with the neighbors back in Cambridgeshire. But they all knew not to have music playing. Here in London, he thought she would fear such entertainment.

  He couldn’t avoid music, of course. He’d even heard the occasional melody of one of his father’s symphonies, but he didn’t go out of his way for an evening of music.

  But then he was guessing at his mother’s motives, for they never talked about the past. After his father died, she had retreated into her music—ignoring him. He still remembered those bleak days, when one servant after another took turns trying to keep him distracted from the closed door of the music room. He had known his mother was in there. She would eventually emerge at the end of the day to talk to him. But he was so young that over time he began to resent the piano, to resent even the melody in her mind that called to her more than he could. She kept telling him that she had no choice except to write everything down. When it was finally done, and she declared herself through with music forever, he’d been secretly glad. He’d never brought up music again, but had always wondered when it would pull her away from him, her only child. Now that he was an adult, he wished it would come back to her.

  Here in Hyde Park, with only his horse for company, Daniel told himself not to think. He rode contentedly in the saddle as the animal cantered.

  Until he heard a scream.

  He stiffened, pulling on the reins until the horse came to a stop. He looked between the trees, up and down Rotten Row, but he saw nothing.

  Then came another scream, closer this time.

  Suddenly, a horse burst from between two trees, heading straight at Daniel. His mount danced to the side, its ears back. The scream was coming from the other rider, a woman, who seemed to be hanging on for dear life, sliding perilously to one side. Her hat was gone, her brown hair flying from its pins. Daniel urged his horse into a gallop, so that by the time the woman’s horse flew past, he was keeping the same pace with a burst of speed.

  He reached out, leaning sideways as the rough dirt path seemed to fly beneath him. He meant to grab her reins, but at the last second, he saw that it was Grace Banbury. Her beautiful face was stark white with terror. Letting go of his own reins, he caught her beneath the arms and dragged her across his lap.

  Grace cried out as she found herself pulled across the gap between the pounding hooves of both horses. The ground raced below, the air rushed through her hair and past her ears, and she’d thought herself perfectly safe—until Daniel Throckmorten had decided to risk life and limb saving her rather than just take hold of the reins.

  His thighs were hard beneath her, one arm encircled her back, and the other reached to slow her horse, making him lean perilously low over her. She gaped up at him, so shocked she almost forgot to pretend gratitude, as had been her plan. His face was hard with determination, brown eyes narrowed with concentration. It was thrilling and exciting—and difficult to remember to look terrified. When he finally pulled to a stop, she only had a moment to look around to see if anyone was watching. She saw three people on horseback, and thankfully, two were ladies, who were more likely to spread the tale.

  Daniel lifted her even closer to him. Cradled in his arms felt as safe as being on the ground. He examined her face as if he expected to find blood.

  “Are you all right?” he demanded.

  “Oh, you saved me, Mr. Throckmorten!” she cried, a bit too loudly.

  He frowned. “However did you get yourself in such a predicament? You live in the country. I would have thought you a better judge of a horse’s temperament. This beast is your brother’s, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, yes, it was foolish of me, I know—”

  “Hallo, are you all right?” cried a man’s voice.

  Grace tried to sit up higher, but the pommel cut into her hip, and Daniel was still holding on so firmly. “Could you please help me down, Mr. Throckmorten? I do believe my limbs aren’t shaking so badly now.”

  His frown grew even more suspicious, but there was also a hint of amused curiosity in those dark eyes. But their witnesses were riding toward them, and she could not afford more time to appease him.

  She tried to turn to greet the spectators, but he hugged her close and whispered, “You’ve given me such a ripe opportunity, Grace. I wonder what they’d say if I just continue to hold you so indecently, as if we are far too familiar with each other.”

  “You wouldn’t,” she hissed, waving her hand before her face as if she would faint. She put the back of her palm to her forehead, trying for weak and distraught.

  “But your acting is so marvelous. It would be a shame not to allow you a last grand performance.”

  She simply looked at him, their faces close together, their eyes daring each other.

  “Only two weeks left,” Daniel murmured. “I might have to do something desperate to ensure that I win.”

  “You’re far from desperate,” she whispered back, then smiled. “It’s two weeks minus a day. And you wouldn’t do anything that might lead to a forced marriage.”

  “And who could possibly force me into that?”

  Before she could respond, others were upon them.

  “Throckmorten, superb horsemanship,” said a man who reined in his gelding as he reached them.

  Daniel finally released her from his gaze. “Thank you, Colby,” he said smoothly. “Always good to aid a lady in distress.”

  “Oh, my dear,” cried a well-dressed woman riding at the man’s side. “Will you faint? Please don’t fall off the horse.”

  “I would never allow it,” Daniel said, holding her even more tightly.

  The more Grace tried to appear weak, the more he pressed her against him, breasts to his chest, making it difficult to remember her purpose. “I can’t quite get my breath,” she said weakly.

  The woman slid from her horse. “Do let her down, Mr. Throckmorten. I can help the poor girl.”

  Grace sensed Daniel’s reluctant surrender, and she gave a deep sigh, using weariness to mask her relief.

  “Let me dismount first, Miss Banbury,” he said, “and then I’ll help you down.”

  She gave a trembling nod, allowing him to do all the work of sliding out from under her. When he was on the ground and reaching up to her, she let herself slide weakly into his arms. It was difficult to forget that his hands were on her waist. She had a fleeting thought about what it would feel like if she weren’t wearing a corset.

  “Miss Banbury, is it?” said the woman behind her.

  Grace gratefully turned to her and gave a shaky smile. “Yes, ma’am. I am newly a
rrived in London, and I hadn’t ridden my brother’s horse before, and didn’t know the paths—”

  “Of course, of course, it is very different here than in the country,” the woman said soothingly.

  She was perhaps twenty years older than Grace, a mature woman who had a vigorous air about her.

  “I am Miss Parker. Do you need to sit down, dear?”

  “Oh, no, I am certain I will be fine. Thank goodness for Mr. Throckmorten. I could have died!”

  “Rescuing innocent maidens, Throckmorten?” said Mr. Colby with dry amusement in his voice. “Not quite like you.”

  Good, Grace thought with satisfaction. Just the reaction she’d been looking for. She glanced over her shoulder at Daniel but didn’t allow any triumph to show. It was far too early in their challenge.

  During several minutes of conversation, Miss Parker invited Grace to call upon her, Mr. Colby gave Daniel a rewarding look of approval, and Daniel appeared reluctantly amused. All in all, her plan to improve his reputation was succeeding.

  “Thank you all for your help,” Daniel said. “If you don’t mind, I think Miss Banbury has had quite enough excitement for one day. I’ll escort her back to her brother.”

  “Good of you, Throckmorten,” said Miss Parker, speaking to an equal in her no-nonsense way. “Please do visit me, Miss Banbury.”

  “I will, Miss Parker. Thank you so much for your concern.”

  Without a mounting block, Grace was forced to allow Daniel to help her mount. She found the stirrup as quickly as possible, so that his hands wouldn’t linger. But as the others rode off, he guided her knee around the pommel very familiarly.

  “That’s not necessary,” Grace said softly, still attempting a smile, while inside she felt a tightening deep in her belly.

  “I deserve some sort of reward for acting in your little play.”

  She looked down upon him, his hand still on her knee, and found herself feeling generous. “Very well, if it will make you feel better.”

  He arched a brow, but at last he moved back and mounted his own horse. “Should I lead you by the reins? We wouldn’t want another accident to happen.”

  “I’m certain your masterful horse will keep mine well cowed,” she said.