Triana's Spring Seduction

by Tabetha Waite

  Alyssa took a thoughtful sip of her tea. “I certainly hope he’s not had a run of bad luck at the tables,” she mused aloud.

  Triana waved off her friend’s concern. “It’s not very likely. He’s never been prone to do much gambling after the terrible state Father put us in when he left. It was enough of a struggle to lift us up once. I don’t think Travell will let it happen again.”

  “Yes, I suppose you’re right.” Alyssa murmured. “Well, I’m out of ideas. Although…” She glanced sideways at Triana before shaking her head. “No, never mind. It’s a silly notion.”

  Triana knew that look. It had gotten her into trouble more than once. “Do I even want to know?”

  Alyssa tried to appear all innocence, but her eyes spoke volumes as they twinkled mischievously. “It’s nothing, really. I was just thinking of a way you could find out what’s been monopolizing all of Travell’s time.” She paused meaningfully. “If you really wanted to.”

  Triana knew she was going to regret it, but she asked anyway. “What did you have in mind?”

  Aly simply smiled and took another sip of her tea. “Well, for starters, I guess I’d have to know… can you pick a lock?”

  ***

  As Triana looked back over her life, she could only recall two times where she had truly not considered the ramifications of her actions before acting rather impulsively.

  This was one of those times.

  However, as she would not accept the blame for every error that had taken place from her childhood to the present, she wasn’t about to start now. And honestly, both instances could be construed as her brother’s fault, for if he wasn’t so secretive, then even her past misfortunes might not have been so great.

  Disaster had struck when she was six, and Travell had been a headstrong eleven-year-old home from Eton. He’d discovered that the willow tree overlooking the pond on their country estate, Rosewood, bent over the water just enough so that he could balance himself, albeit precariously, and catch several fish quite easily, having found a school of them near this deeper end of the bank. He kept it a closely guarded secret for as long as possible, but it wasn’t until he began to bring home a line of trout every day that Triana had started the inquisition.

  At first, he had murmured some noncommittal excuse in reply to her bombarding line of questioning, before eventually finding a way to change the subject. Not until she’d spied on him the next day, did she follow him and learn the truth. She’d stealthily climbed onto the branch after him in an effort to show him how clever she had become. Since he didn’t hear her approach until it was too late, naturally Travell was startled when he turned and found her staring at him. His reaction had been instinctual and one that caused both of them to fall into the water and nearly drown.

  Needless to say, no fish had been caught that day and the rest of her summer was ruined, spent under the closely guarded supervision of their governess and a sulking, older brother.

  It was this particular memory that Triana brought to mind as she dove behind the divan in Travell’s study — mere seconds before he turned the doorknob and walked in.

  She’d been searching his desk until the sound of footsteps in the hall alerted her to his early, and rather unexpected return, thus, she found herself quite annoyed about two things. One, that she hadn’t been able to find anything of import during her hasty perusal, and second, that Alyssa was always so confident with whatever harebrained scheme she’d generally concocted. She’d made it sound so perfectly easy to pick the lock in Travell’s study and search it while he was gone. Of course, it might have been a good plan, if he managed to stay away longer than twenty minutes at any given interval, and if it hadn’t taken her nearly ten of those precious minutes fumbling with her hairpin.

  Triana cursed her rotten luck, holding her breath as she heard Travell walking around; the sound of his boots echoing off the wood floor like the approach of war drums. Praying that he wouldn’t cross the room to where she crouched (rather uncomfortably), she yearned to peek around the corner, but the fear of discovery kept her perfectly still — until the sound of a muffled click caused her ears to perk up.

  As she strained to listen, she was shocked as a scraping sound followed, as if a door had just been opened. Normally, that wouldn’t have been so odd — if it hadn’t seemed to come from the opposite side of the room.

  Her heartbeat pounding in her ears, she covered a gasp as another set of boots joined the first. Impossible! Resisting the urge to crawl out and confront her brother and the intruder right then, she refrained from doing so, realizing that to stay hidden would allow her the only possible advantage of eavesdropping. While this certainly answered a lot of questions, it also opened the door to many more.

  Dear God, what was her brother involved in that constituted such secrecy?

  Fearing the worst, that Alyssa might be right in her assumptions about gaming, Triana worried her lower lip; frustrated when Travell and his guest only spoke in deep undertones, making it hard to discern what they were saying or even who this mysterious guest could be.

  While the conversation was brief, it was apparently positive, for they seemed to be in some sort of agreement. It wasn’t until the man was getting ready to leave that she finally dared peek around the corner of her hiding place — and felt her blood run hot and cold at the same time.

  ***

  Triana fidgeted with her reticule as the carriage rolled to a stop in front of number 11 Belgrave Square. Having originally been dreading the Westerville’s ball, Triana descended the carriage after her mother with an eager step, ignoring the curious glances from Travell. Then again, she’d been rather cool with him ever since she’d left the study that afternoon.

  It still irked whenever she thought of how he’d openly lied to her. That very first, ill-fated night she’d met Gabriel, she’d asked her brother about the duke, and he’d led her to believe they had only been acquaintances from long ago. Ha! It sure hadn’t appeared that way a few hours ago!

  All afternoon she’d paced her bedchamber in an effort to ponder what she’d witnessed, but the more she thought about it, the more irritated she became. And it wasn’t even Travell’s betrayal that hurt the most. It was the fact he was keeping his association with the duke such a mystery. What reason could Travell have to barely nod at the duke in public, yet converse with him quite freely in secret?

  Something didn’t add up, and she intended to find out what.

  She doubted that she would get a straight answer from either her brother or His Grace if confronted directly, and since spying had managed to get her this far, she had decided to continue her careful observations. Whatever would gain her the answers she wanted, she would do it, because if her brother was involved in something unsavory, she felt she had a right to know.

  Triana entered the ballroom and saw Gabriel almost immediately. She narrowed her eyes and tried to see him as a devil incarnate, rather than the handsome, suave aristocrat he portrayed to the world, although that was nearly impossible to do. He was resplendent in his signature black and white attire, the emerald signet ring glinting on his finger. The man looked like society personified as he smiled down at Cordelia, who clung to his arm, her shimmering purple gown making Triana’s cornflower blue dress feel as boring as a miller’s sack.

  As though they were a king and queen reigning over their subjects, the fawning crowd (which she likened to a herd of circling vultures) seemed to be watching and waiting for any morsel of attention from the premier couple as they “held court” across the room.

  With a roll of her eyes, Triana gravitated toward a secluded corner of the room and prepared to wait, for what she didn’t know, but something would happen tonight. She could feel it.

  As the evening progressed, however, and nothing occurred but the ticking of the clock and the idolized duke and his lady laughing with their bevy of admirers, Triana wondered how much more she could take. So, it was with some relief when Korina and Rowena joined her upon their ar
rival.

  Triana was grateful to divert her attention, but as they began to recount the activity from the previous night’s opera, Triana saw a minor change in the duke’s expression. While it wasn’t visible to his “subjects,” for he’d been at his leisure most of the evening, there seemed to be a new… alertness to him that wasn’t there before. Triana doubted that anyone even thought twice about it as he smoothly extricated himself at precisely eleven fifty-five and headed for the terrace.

  It was now or never.

  She hastily excused herself, hoping she hadn’t cut Korina or Rowena off mid-sentence in her rush to catch up to Gabriel. But as she neared the veranda, Triana could feel the exhilaration coursing through her veins. Unfortunately, the balcony was empty, so she scanned the expansive gardens, looking for any sort of movement, for it was one of the few places Gabriel could have disappeared in such a short amount of time.

  There! She could just make out his faint outline in the dark, before he slipped deeper into the shadows. Triana glanced about to make sure she wasn’t being observed, as she hitched up her dress and climbed over the railing. She jumped the short distance to the ground and hastened along the tall hedge. She tried to calm her pounding heart and focus on the task at hand, grateful that her soft, kid slippers barely made a whisper of sound on the perfectly manicured lawn.

  She paused, anxiously searching the inky darkness until she pinpointed that tall silhouette again. Then she carefully continued her pursuit, but her heart slammed into her throat when his head suddenly whipped around. She feared that he might have sensed her presence, so she held her breath and pressed so close to the coarse greenery at her back that it dug into her tender flesh through the thin gossamer of her gown. She dared not move a single muscle until the threat of discovery had passed. After a moment while he appeared to thoroughly scan the area, he ascended deeper into the oblivion.

  She let her breath out in a rush, and quickly resumed the chase — but muttered a curse seconds later when she realized the duke had abruptly vanished.

  Drat! Well, he certainly hadn’t disintegrated into thin air, and there wasn’t any plausible way he could have turned back without passing her, so… where had he gone? She chewed on her bottom lip in contemplation, thinking of her next move, when she heard a light rustle in the bushes a few steps ahead.

  Her lungs froze in her chest as she strained to listen, but when a small hare appeared, she released a disgusted breath. Unease quickly turned to frustration, which settled like a stone in the pit of her stomach. What a grand spy she was turning out to be! First she lost her intended target, and then she was scared out of her wits by nothing more than a harmless rabbit!

  She turned back toward the manor house, intent on giving up this foolhardy quest, not realizing how far she’d gone. The merriment going on inside the ballroom was nothing more than a faint hum of activity; the twinkling candle lights a distant glow.

  Triana knew something was wrong even before she felt the warning prickles of gooseflesh crawl up the back of her neck. A moment later, a strong hand clamped over her mouth at the same time that her assailant’s arm wrapped around her waist. A terrified scream hovered on her lips as she was spun around — until her eyes suddenly widened in recognition.

  A sly smile curved the edges of the duke’s rugged mouth, the shadows all around them transforming his features into something predatory. When he leaned forward, she felt the warmth of his breath as it lightly fanned her cheek, sending a delicious shiver up her spine — and one not born of fright.

  “Hallo, Triana.” That sensuous voice coiled around her, causing her toes to curl in her slippers. “I trust you won’t scream now?” At her nod, he slowly removed his hand from her mouth, although he had yet to remove his arm from the curve of her waist.

  “Don’t you know how dangerous it is to walk in a dark, secluded garden without a chaperone? There are all sorts of unsavory types who lurk about in the hopes of taking advantage of a lovely, young woman such as yourself.” Chiltern ran a finger over her exposed collarbone, his silver eyes glittering treacherously.

  Triana swallowed, her gaze never leaving his face. “You’ll protect me,” she whispered.

  “You think so?” A dark brow immediately arched upward as his hand lifted to encircle the back of her neck. “And here I considered myself the danger.”

  There was a rush of sensation as his mouth suddenly connected with hers. The unexpected, intimate contact stole Triana’s breath. The earth spun beneath her, yet she knew she was on solid ground.

  So this is what is whispered behind closed doors — she thought dreamily, as Chiltern quite literally kissed her senseless. Her entire brain was unable to carry through a coherent thought. What had she come out here to find? She couldn’t remember. Where was she? She didn’t really care. What was her name?

  Her mind was a total blank. The only thing that registered was this wonderful torrent of pleasure washing over her skin — through her blood — and the fact she never wanted it to end.

  And that was all before his hands began to roam.

  He gently brushed the side of her cheek with his thumb, caressing the soft area behind her ear, before teasing his way down her neck. This light awareness caused a strange glow to build inside Triana that soon burned with the scorching heat of desire. She had no idea her flesh could be so sensitive or responsive to another’s touch.

  To his touch.

  When his mouth left hers and began to trail a path along the same areas he’d touched, her knees begin to quiver. He left a scalding path of yearning everywhere his lips kissed exposed flesh. A pulsing need began down deep in her core. She wanted… something, she just wasn’t sure what it was.

  Triana wanted to unsettle him in the same manner, so she lifted her arms and wrapped them around his neck, tentatively running her fingernails up the back of his head and diving into that wonderfully thick hair. This definitely gained her a response, for he growled deep in his throat and urgently tugged down part of her gown. She gasped when his head dipped to sample the fare he’d uncovered to his hungry gaze.

  She closing her eyes and clung to him as he feasted on her breast. She knew this was nothing more than a lust-filled possession, but she was helpless to push him away because nothing had ever felt so good — or so right.

  It wasn’t until the sharp cry of an owl intruded that he seemed to come back to his senses. As quickly as it had all begun, he released her.

  He ran a hand over his face and then muttered a curse, turning away.

  “Gabriel?”

  “For God’s sake, woman, cover yourself!”

  Triana was still trying to come out of her passion-induced haze, when his harsh command jolted her back to the present. A flurry of conflicting emotions flooded her at his sudden vehemence — confusion, embarrassment, but most of all anger — as she hastily put herself to rights. “How dare you!” she spat, her indignation sparking hotly. “You were the one who took advantage of me!”

  With a dark, humorless laugh, he set his hands on his hips and turned back around to glare at her. “Perhaps I should remind you that you shouldn’t have run off where you don’t belong. I had every right to assume that, since you were alone, you were looking for—” He grinned ruthlessly. “—alternate entertainment.”

  “You despicable brute!” she shot back, furious, her fists clenched. “I could ask you the same question, for I doubt any intentions you had — after sneaking out of the ballroom — were free of corruption!”

  He immediately stilled and she wondered if she’d gone too far. Taking a menacing step forward, he narrowed that piercing, silver gaze and it was all she could do not to back away from the lethal gleam in his eyes. “What I do with my time is none of your business. But rest assured I had not planned on this little tryst, so calm those tender sensibilities of yours. I wouldn’t have stolen your virtue.” Almost maliciously, he added, “In fact, I’m quite sure you would have given it rather freely.”

  Triana, stunned by
such blatant cruelty, did something she’d never even contemplated before. She raised her hand and let it fly of its own accord. Crack!

  Then she spun around, clenching a fist around her smarting palm, as she swiftly lengthened the distance between them. It was regrettable that she’d wasted her first kiss on such a deplorable man.

  And she’d let it happen like the naïve fool she was.

  ***

  Hell and damnation! Gabriel found his entire stockpile of curses had been thoroughly exhausted by the time he returned to the Westerville’s elegant ballroom a short while later. Taking the measure of people in attendance, he wasn’t surprised to find Triana was nowhere in sight.

  Irritated even further when Cordelia inquired if he was feeling well, he responded with a curt, noncommittal response, before grabbing two flutes of champagne from a nearby footman. Surprised that his firm grip didn’t cause the delicate stems to shatter into a thousand pieces, he handed one to the marchioness before downing his own in one hefty gulp. But realizing that it would take much more than wine to calm him, he was vastly relieved when Lord Vanderbree offered to partner Cordelia for the next set, giving Gabriel time to go off in search of a temporary sanctuary.

  He searched until he found a library that was blessedly empty, so he went inside and shut the door. He was relieved to be surrounded by nothing but silence, serenity, and the smell of leather and musty pages. An expansive display of novels filled the mahogany shelves around him, but Gabriel had already spotted something of much higher interest — a neglected brandy decanter on a side table.

  Feeling quite sure that Lord Westerville wouldn’t mind if he imbibed, he poured two finger’s worth of the fiery liquid and slammed it down his throat, glorying in the burn as he did so. Helping himself to another draught, he walked over to the fireplace.