by Gayle Callen
He handed out the lantern, and when she remained silent, he said, “I’m surprised I could think so quickly on my feet.”
“Why?”
He stared at her curious expression, her intelligent green eyes. “Because all I can think about is you, and what we have yet to finish.”
She ducked her pretty chin, slanting her glance away from him. “We are not finishing.”
“No? That was a close call.”
She gave him a pointed look. “A close call would have been nudity.”
“Are you offering?”
She rolled her eyes and let her breath out on a sigh, just as the coachman handed back in their lantern. When they were on their way again, Daniel didn’t talk; he found himself brooding as he watched her, more disappointed than he’d anticipated. It wasn’t as if he thought she’d freely give in to him so soon in their challenge. But she’d granted him enough that he was frustrated.
And he couldn’t help but remember the way her leg had circled him. It had seemed…unusual, for a woman as innocent as she.
Or perhaps she was just a natural.
The thought alone made him close his eyes and take a deep breath.
“You are in pain?” she murmured.
He opened his eyes and smiled. “No, just…thwarted.”
“I’m told it hurts for a man to stop.”
He stared at her. “And where would you hear something like that?”
“One of my female friends,” she said.
He was surprised to discover that women talked of such things.
He leaned forward and tried to take her hand, but she pulled away. Even by lanternlight, he could see how red her face was. “If we were naked together, and I was almost inside you—”
She turned away.
“—it would be terribly difficult to stop.”
“But would you, if I told you to?”
She was staring at him now, her green eyes serious and wary. This was about trust, and to his surprise, he wanted that from her. Since when did he ever care about that with a woman?
“I would,” he said.
She looked at him a few moments more, and then nodded.
“You know I want you in my bed,” he said after a pause.
She glanced at him. “After all of this, I would assume so.”
“You have friends who’ve told you about men. Have they also told you what happens between a man and a woman in bed?”
She nodded quickly, biting her lip as she looked away.
Daniel was glad. One less impediment between him and fulfillment.
A while later, when the carriage slowed again, he opened the blinds and peered outside.
“Are we at my town house?” she asked.
He didn’t correct her as to the house’s owner. “We are.”
“Then stay in here, please.”
He frowned.
“If my brother is looking for me, I don’t want him to see you.”
“I understand.”
She slid forward in the seat, waiting expectantly for the door to be opened. Without thinking about it, Daniel cupped her head and leaned forward to give her a quick kiss. When he pulled back, she stared at him, eyes unfocused, lips moist and parted with surprise.
Then the door opened, and she descended quickly.
He slid back in his seat with a sigh, opened the other blinds and looked out into the night, away from the town house. Just seeing those lit windows would make him think of joining her there.
So he stared out at the park in the center of the houses—and saw a man standing just beyond the light from a gas lamp. Daniel couldn’t see his features, for he wore a hat and dark clothing. He was looking at Grace’s house, and at the carriage. He stilled, as if he somehow realized that he was being watched.
And then he started to run.
Tyler chose that moment to urge the horses forward, but Daniel slammed open the door and vaulted into the street. The startled coachman gaped at him, but Daniel only lifted his hand to bid him wait. Running, he chased the stranger down the street, but the man had too much of a lead. He reached the far block, ducking between two houses. Daniel finally came to a stop in an alley. He had no idea which way the man had gone. He swore under his breath and turned back the way he’d come.
That same night, Grace sat in the bathing tub until her skin grew wrinkly and the water chilled, yet still her mind whirled around from one thought to another. She could still hear the words she’d used to convince herself to accept his seduction. She’d told herself she would just go a bit further, that she could stop whenever she wanted.
That sounded just like what her mother used to say about a game of faro.
Grace shuddered and closed her eyes. So she had stopped herself before Daniel could take things too far. Her mother had once been able to stop her compulsions, too.
Grace was gambling now, gambling on her own control. And she was gambling with her only future: possession of the violin and the chance to rent another house.
Was losing that worth experiencing Daniel’s kiss, his touch? So he made her burn—hadn’t she done this before? And it had almost led to her ruin. She had trusted Baxter Wells, too, and he’d proved unworthy of it.
She knew she was letting her sympathy for Daniel’s history affect her. She wanted to help him get over the trauma of his youth.
But couldn’t she just behave like his friend instead of a woman auditioning for the part of his mistress?
For just a moment, she imagined being his mistress in truth. She would have security and a place to live, the attention of a handsome man, and certainly she could help her brother.
But having a notorious sister would further harm Edward’s chances at a decent marriage. And Daniel would eventually tire of her. She realized that she could never live with the uncertainty of a mistress’s life.
Grace had had a difficult time falling asleep, and then slept in late in the morning. She didn’t want to think about her next step in Daniel’s “education.” She needed to forget about him, for at least the day, because she had a dinner invitation for the evening, and she had a suspicion that he might be there.
After a solitary luncheon, she tried to read a book in the library, but kept reading the same paragraph over and over again. Then she heard the front bell, and everything inside her stilled.
Woodley found her, bowed, and said, “Lady Standish to see you, Miss Banbury.”
“Show her in.” She sank back on the sofa bone-lessly, which was how Beverly found her.
Hands on her hips, Beverly looked about the library, and Grace realized that her friend was seeing for the first time the bare walls and empty tables. There were even some empty shelves, as if Edward had sold a rare book collection.
Grace smiled. “Good afternoon, Beverly. It’s so good to see you.”
“You might not think so. I want to know what is going on.”
“About what?” Grace patted the sofa beside her, but Beverly didn’t sit down.
“The condition of your home, for one.”
“You know I don’t regularly live here,” Grace said evasively.
“But Edward does. And it seems he’s in trouble.”
“Strangely, not too bad,” Grace said, wearing a rueful smile.
“Then it’s you who’s in trouble.”
When Grace hesitated, Beverly took her hand and brought her to her feet.
“We can’t talk in here,” Beverly said. “Let’s go outside.”
Realizing that she was not going to escape this time, Grace followed her outside into the little flowering courtyard, to a bench past the fountain but not all the way to the stables.
Beverly looked at her expectantly. “Well? And don’t try to lie. Your freckles stand out in your red face when you do. That hasn’t changed since we were girls.”
Looking into Beverly’s sympathetic eyes, Grace found herself telling her everything, from her mother’s gambling and losing their homes and Grace’s hand in marriage,
to the challenge over her seduction.
Beverly’s mouth fell farther open with each revelation. Grace was so embarrassed that she couldn’t even look at her after a while and had to stare into the fountain. But its peaceful gurgling wasn’t helping her. Was Beverly disgusted? Had Grace lost her only friend?
Suddenly she was wrapped in Beverly’s arms, her breath almost choked from her.
“You poor dear,” Beverly murmured, patting Grace’s back as if she were her child.
Grace let out a relieved sigh. “It’s all right, but thank you.”
Beverly held her by the upper arms and stared at her. “How dreadful that that man thinks he can just seduce you—an innocent!”
“I can resist him.” Grace was convincing herself as well as Beverly. “He’s playing by the rules we set down, and he stops when I tell him to.”
“And all you have to do is resist for how much longer?”
“Eight days.”
“And then the violin is yours.”
“And it’s worth so much money, Beverly,” Grace said in a low voice. “I can rent us a home, give Edward something with which he can approach a woman in marriage. And it’s not costing me much.”
“Ah, but your pride, my dear,” Beverly whispered.
To her surprise, Grace found herself blinking back tears. “When I found out what my mother had done…when I realized that we meant so little to her that she’d wager our homes…”
Beverly nodded, holding Grace’s hand, sniffing.
“She lost our only place to live,” Grace continued, pulling her handkerchief from her sleeve.
“There is no excuse for her behavior, Grace. Thank goodness that Mr. Throckmorten did not try to force you into marriage.”
“How could he? I would have resisted, and he would have embarrassed us both. He’s not like that.”
“This is a man who wants to take you to his bed,” Beverly said doubtfully, “though you’re a virginal miss.”
Grace looked away. She couldn’t reveal everything about her past. It was too humiliating.
“So it’s simple. You resist him, and you win.”
“Don’t forget about the redemption.”
Beverly groaned. “You made this so much more complicated than it needed to be.”
“I had to! What else was I going to tell Edward? He would—challenge Daniel! And I can imagine who’s the better shot. That’s all I need.”
“Now I understand why Mr. Throckmorten appeared at a charity picnic. The ladies are still atwitter. Don’t be surprised to hear about it at dinner tonight.”
“Don’t worry. It will work perfectly, I promise you. With some guidance, he’ll fit right back into Society. Maybe he’ll even find a woman to marry someday.”
Beverly eyed her doubtfully. “Not you?”
“Oh no!” Grace said too quickly. “He’s only considering me as a mistress. And I would never want to marry him. I was raised by a gambler and watched her make my brother into one as well. Daniel is a man who finds life so boring that he needs to take risks. No, I need a quiet man whose only compulsion in his life is books—or me. Until then, all I have to do is resist.”
Beverly frowned. “You don’t seem so certain.”
“You don’t know how well he kisses.”
“Oh, my dear, it is a good thing you explained everything to me. You need my help in the worst way.”
Grace smiled. “And how will you do that?”
“He needs to marry, does he not?”
“He’s his cousin’s heir, at least until the duke marries and has a son of his own.”
“Then I shall make sure he has so many ladies to choose from that he’ll be too busy escaping them to have time for you. It’ll all be over by the annual Madingley Ball, you mark my words.”
Obviously, Beverly didn’t know Daniel very well, but Grace refrained from telling her so.
That evening, Daniel stood in Lord Cheston’s drawing room before dinner, speaking with his lordship about a bill to be read before the House of Commons. His cousin Madingley was also there, watching Daniel too closely. No one else would recognize the suspicion in his gaze. Daniel knew he wasn’t exactly behaving the way his family expected of him. They, too, must have heard about Daniel’s good deed for charity. He didn’t want to answer Chris’s questions, so he avoided talking alone with his cousin—at least for now.
Daniel didn’t need to look up to know when Grace entered the room. To his surprise, he felt it, as if a lavender-scented current moved through the room. She was with her friend Lady Standish, and though they didn’t look his way, a path seemed magically to appear between them. Various guests looked back and forth as if waiting to see what would happen.
How had one waltz with Grace made them of such interest?
Well, it wasn’t just a waltz. She’d made it seem like he’d rescued her from a runaway horse. She’d dragged him to work at a meal for the poor. Some might have thought a marriage pending, but most understood the sort of man he was. They all probably believed that Grace was deceiving herself about him. And that made him feel the first twinge of guilt, which was ridiculous.
Grace understood their relationship. He just had to stop thinking about her so protectively. He had spent last night in her parents’ suite, watching for a man in the shadows of the street who had never appeared. Feeling ridiculous, he had vowed to hire an investigator and find out what was going on once and for all.
Lord Cheston harrumphed and rocked back on his heels. Daniel realized that he’d completely forgotten about the old man. Sometimes it was hard to read his expression beneath his heavy muttonchop whiskers and thick mustache, but for once, Daniel knew sympathy when he saw it.
“Never thought it would happen to you, Throckmorten,” his lordship said gruffly.
“And what would that be, my lord?”
“You’re being manipulated by a woman.”
Daniel smiled, almost wishing he could explain that it was really the other way around, that Grace was doing her best to keep him off guard so that she wouldn’t have to admit how much her control was really slipping.
“I saw you waltz with her,” Lord Cheston continued.
Daniel arched a brow at him. “Your point?”
“You were far too intent on her. And then that meal at the park in Bethnal Green—how did you let yourself be talked into something that is a woman’s domain?”
Daniel realized he could hardly explain that he’d been tricked. But then all the pieces seemed to fall together, and he finally realized how all this was connected.
Was Grace’s plan to make him appealing to the ton once again? Was she trying to change him, to make him better in their eyes? He almost laughed aloud.
Daniel was directed to escort Grace into dinner, and the seating plan had them dining beside one another. Lady Cheston—and everyone else—obviously thought that Grace was manipulating him for herself and were going to go along with the plan. Or at least see what sparks flew, satisfying their insatiable demand for gossip.
So Daniel decided to give them a show. Instead of occupying himself with Grace, as they all expected, he monopolized the dinner conversation of the lady on his left and the gentleman across from her.
If everyone thought he needed improving, let them all give it a try.
When several courses of the meal had gone by, and he hadn’t even looked at Grace, he saw the whispers and the disapproving stares sent his way. They all thought that he owed Grace his attention. But he was still faintly annoyed that he’d taken so long to discover her plan.
To his surprise, he suddenly felt Grace’s hand on his right thigh. Plenty of women had done such a thing clandestinely, but somehow, knowing that it was innocent Grace, whose delights he’d only just begun to taste and explore, made him go instantly hard, instantly tense.
He laughed a bit too loudly at something Miss Alton said on his left and received even more curious stares for it, although the lady herself blushed and batted her lashes at hi
m.
Grace’s hand began to move, fingers lightly trailing a sensuous path down to his knee, then up again, all at a slow, deliberate pace.
He began to perspire.
What was wrong with him? Plenty of women had thrown themselves at him.
But not innocent young ladies who talked enough to their friends to know what drove a man wild.
He wasn’t going to give in to her bid for attention. He asked Miss Alton to meet with him again after dinner, when the ladies and gentlemen rejoined one another in the drawing room.
Grace’s fingers did not go all the way to his groin, and he was only partly relieved, the other part frustrated. He could have laughed at his own dilemma.
He whispered his most devilish suggestion in Miss Alton’s ear. She gave a little gasp, her face went white, and she began to cough, as if she’d swallowed something the wrong way.
Grace’s fingers slid down between his thighs, and he closed them on her hand.
The man on Miss Alton’s left patted her back as she got herself under control. The stares he received were appalled yet unsurprised, as if he’d done what they all expected. Miss Alton’s stare was both unsettled, which was only natural, and…curious.
“Mr. Throckmorten,” she said in a soft voice, “there’s no need to say such an outrageous thing simply to prove to Miss Banbury that she can’t tame you.”
“Tame me?”
But she’d already turned away, and he was left staring at her upswept blond curls. He turned to Grace, who’d finally pulled her hand free and was now frowning at him as much as everyone else.
He leaned toward her. “Forgive me for not going along with your plans for me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said softly, then lifted a glass of wine to her mouth.
Had she meant to improve him for all the women? Surely then she couldn’t be upset by his conversation with Miss Alton. Wasn’t that the whole point of Grace’s plan? Or was she just trying to drive him crazy wondering what she was up to?
But her hand didn’t return to his lap. If he had just gone along with the game, who knew what she might have done to get his attention?
