A Christmas Seduction: A Regency Anthology (14 page)

“I
S THE FOOD NOT
to your taste, my lord?”

Hugh released the death grip on his wineglass and turned toward the girl who was twittering beside him.

With herculean effort, he strove to appear interested in her banal conversation.

“I find I have no appetite this evening Miss — ah—”

“Miss Bolton. I was just telling Mama about your performance on the pianoforte.”

Hugh breathed a sigh of relief as another guest unwittingly saved him from a rather awkward situation.

He hadn’t for the life of him been able to remember anything about the pretty young lady he’d been seated beside at dinner, save for the fact that she was the daughter of one of his father’s closest acquaintances.

He hadn’t been paying any attention to Miss Bolton because he was solely focused on Louisa Bright, sitting opposite him, looking beautiful enough to give him an apoplexy… and ignoring him.

What had his mother been thinking, seating them like this?

Why was it that Lucas got to sit with Meredith, and Hugh was forced to sit across the table from Louisa and Lord Oxton and watch the man salivate all over her for the evening?

If he touched her one more time, Hugh would launch himself over the table and strangle the man.

The evening was dragging, the wine was having no effect on his temper whatsoever, and if appearances were anything to go by, Lord Oxton was becoming permanently attached to Louisa’s thigh.

Hugh watched Louisa’s face closely. If she gave even the slightest indication that the swine beside her was bothering her, he’d knock the stuffing out of the bast—

Louisa suddenly looked across the table directly into his eyes and all thoughts, violent or otherwise, fled from his mind.

Dear God in Heaven. She was extraordinary. A goddess. And his heart, he knew, had never been in more danger.

Louisa raised a brow, as though daring him. To do what, he had no idea but it made him determined to win whatever this battle between them was. He could only hope, rather desperately, that she was going to be his prize.

Hugh made no effort to release Louisa from his gaze. He knew he probably looked brooding and intense, a look that had frightened many before her, but he couldn’t look away. Didn’t want to.

His desire for her seemed a tangible force, reaching across the table to wrap her in its web. Her eyes widened and her lips parted, and Hugh had to grip the edge of his seat to stop himself from reaching out and hauling her to him, dinner be damned!

More and more, Hugh was becoming sympathetic to Lucas’s predicament. If his brother felt for Meredith even a fraction of what Hugh was starting to feel for Louisa, then Hugh wanted no part in preventing his brother’s happiness.

Lord knew he had started to feel like he’d tear a man limb from limb if he attempted to stop him from being with Louisa.

The venison was served and everyone picked up their knives and forks to eat. Everyone that was, except the lecherous Lord Oxton.

The blasted idiot still had his left hand on Louisa’s person. This time, he was touching her upper arm, his thumb brushing along the skin exposed by her capped sleeve and white evening glove.

Hugh’s tenuous grasp on his temper snapped.

“Oxton, you must tell me how you manage to eat a plate of venison with one of your hands attached to another person. That’s quite a talent.”

His words brought a sudden, shocked silence to the table.

Everyone looked from him to Lord Oxton, who had turned a satisfying shade of puce.

Hugh looked swiftly to Louisa to see her staring at him in consternation.

Looking round the table, he picked out the various looks on the faces of his family and friends.

Mother looked aghast, Miss Bolton scandalized. Jackson was scowling, Sara Bright doing the same. Meredith looked calculating, looking to Louisa and back to him. Lucas looked ecstatic, the blackguard.

“I’m not sure I follow, Mayford,” Oxton said now, but he had removed his hand from Louisa’s arm.

“Oh, I’m quite sure you do,” Hugh retorted softly.

He was gratified to see the other man’s throat bob wildly.

There was another uncomfortable silence which Hugh made no attempt to break since all his efforts were focused on giving Henry Oxton one of his most vicious scowls.

Finally, his mother made some inane comment about the weather and the chatter tentatively began again, although, Hugh was aware of furtive glances and daggers been sent his way for the remainder of the meal.

The ladies retired to the drawing room after the sweetmeats and, as soon as they left, Lucas made a beeline for him.

Hugh had been expecting it.

Handing Hugh a much needed glass of port, Lucas sighed and shook his head.

“You are done for, little brother.”

He could deny it but what was the point? Didn’t misery love company in any case?

“Tell me about it,” he responded dully, staring into the ruby liquid in his glass.

“Oh, I could Hugh. I could.”

The brothers finished their drinks in contemplative silence.

“I
THOUGHT POOR
O
XTON
was going to swallow his tongue,” Louisa hissed to Meredith who stood with her now. “Whatever can have gotten into him?”

Meredith smiled in a way that made Louisa’s cheeks flame.

“Can you not guess, Lou?”

“Of course I can’t.” She sniffed.

Risking a glance at her older sister’s face, she saw that daft, knowing smile again.

“Would it really be so terrible? Giving him a chance?”

Louisa studied her sister more closely. There was a softness about Meredith, a glow of something indefinable that hadn’t been there before. Louisa recognized it because she was terrified it was an expression she’d been wearing herself of late.

“Who are you asking for, Meredith? Me or you?” she whispered.

Before Meredith could answer, the duchess called them all to order.

Louisa moved to the edge of the assembly, noticing that Lord Oxton seemed to be making his way toward her.

“Damn and blast,” she whispered softly.

“Tut, tut, my beauty. Ladies surely do no swear.”

Hugh’s voice sounded in her ear, causing the most delicious of shivers to run down her back.

Louisa swallowed and turned her head to glare at him.

“We haven’t started yet, there is no need to stand so close to me,” she whispered fiercely.

“On the contrary, there is every need,” he said cryptically, and Louisa could have sworn she felt the softest brush of his lips against her neck.

Oh, Lord. This was not good. Not at all.

Her heart was thudding most oddly, and Louisa had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

She was starting to genuinely fear that what she felt for this man wasn’t ever going to go away.

Her Grace moved to the French windows leading onto the verandah and then on to the garden which contained the maze.

As Louisa made to move away, Hugh reached out and grasped her hand.

She felt the impact of his touch right down to her slipper encased toes.

“You look incredible,” he said simply and, still holding her hand in his significantly larger one, he moved toward the garden.

Louisa didn’t want to be thrilled at this simplest of gestures. But she was. And she knew then; she was lost.

CHAPTER SIX

“W
HAT’S THE RUSH?”
Hugh pulled gently on Louisa’s hand when she would have hurried ahead.

It probably wasn’t a good thing that he noticed how perfectly her hand fit in his, but he was starting to think Lucas had the right idea.

Why fight something that felt more and more right by the second?

It was obvious to Hugh that Lucas had forgotten all about seducing Meredith Bright as some sort of revenge tactic. The man was besotted.

It was obvious because he suspected he was feeling the same way about Louisa.

The problem was that Louisa was still hell bent on separating Meredith from Lucas. And if she didn’t want her sister with Hugh’s brother, then she certainly wouldn’t want Hugh for herself.

“What do you mean?” he answered now, tugging ineffectually on his hand to make him go faster. “I want to win.”

Hugh grinned.

“Is winning so important?”

She came to a stop so suddenly that Hugh almost ripped her arm from the socket.

Turning back to her with a frown, he saw her jaw open, the very picture of a horrorstruck young lady.

“What a ridiculous question,” she breathed, sounding most affronted. “Of course it is important.”

Hugh chuckled at her obvious passion for winning. Though he shouldn’t have been surprised. The Bright sisters put more effort into winning than Nelson himself.

Just then, Sara sailed past them, skirts flying.

“Do keep up, Jack,” she called triumphantly as she sprinted past.

Only seconds later Jackson appeared, rushing after her, issuing enough curses to turn the air blue.

Louisa turned back to him with her hands firmly on her hips.

“See? Do you think I could bear to listen to my sisters if one of them should win?”

Hugh placed a hand to his heart.

“I am wounded,” he pronounced dramatically. “There I was thinking you wanted to win so you could be my queen at the Frost Ball.”

She scoffed in a very unladylike manner.

“I consider that a necessary evil,” she bit out. “Now do hurry. Not only do we want to win, but we also want to keep an eye on those two.”

She waved a hand in the direction of Meredith and Lucas who were walking slowly toward the front of the maze, their heads bent toward each other, the picture, Hugh had to admit, of romantic bliss.

“Louisa,” he said softly, bringing them to a halt once more.

She sighed and threw her eyes to heaven, muttering under her breath.

“What?” she snapped.

“I—” Hugh hesitated, wondering what to say. It was odd; most of his conversations with the woman standing in front of him now had been teasing or insulting. Never had he wanted to just
talk
with her. Until now. ”I think perhaps we should leave them be.”

Her beautiful eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“This was your idea,” she reminded him softly.

Hugh sighed and ran a hand through his hair, a sign that he was agitated.

“I know, I know. But—” He reached out and clasped her by the shoulders. God, how he loved touching her. “I’ve seen them together. You have too. And I’ve spoken to Luc. I’m starting to think that there is genuine affection between them.”

She was gazing up at him, a frown of consternation upon her brow, and Hugh had to fight the urge to pull her against him and kiss her the way he wanted to.

“Isn’t it possible?” he asked, a nervous energy coursing through him. “Isn’t it possible that two people who have long considered themselves enemies could find themselves, well, the opposite?”

“I want to believe it is,” she said softly. “But, I think—”

He stepped closer to her, closing even the small distance between them.

“You think too much,” he said, lowering his head slowly toward hers.

“You only say that because you don’t think at all,” she argued but she tilted her head just so.

“You talk too much,” he responded, so close to touching her lips with his own he could almost taste her.

“Well you—”

Hugh didn’t give her a chance to argue, yet again. His lips found hers, and he set about trying to remove any thoughts that weren’t of him from her busy mind.

T
HEY WERE LOSING AND
it was all his fault!

Louisa desperately clung to her irritation. It was just the defense she needed against the unrelenting, soul-consuming love for him that was lurking inside of her, waiting to pounce.

She couldn’t allow herself to love him.

No matter how many seductive words he said, or how heart stopping his kisses.

Self-preservation was key.

They were rushing through the maze toward the birdbath, which Hugh was adamant was the answer to the first clue.