A Christmas Seduction (5 page)

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Authors: Rachel Van Dyken,Kristin Vayden,Nadine Millard

BOOK: A Christmas Seduction
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“Indeed,” Sara replied, her gaze studying Louisa and then nodding once. ”I do think that… arrangement… can be made.”

“Are you buying her silence?” Meredith turned to Louisa.

“No… Can’t I simply be generous?”

“With your pink silk?”

“Yes.”

“I… simply do not want to know. Let Father or Mother deal with the both of you.” Meredith lifted her hands in exasperation.

“I’ll simply go and get ready,” Sara chirped and practically skipped out the door.

“Don’t pretend you’re immune to the charm,” Louisa whispered, leaning in slightly.

“Immune to what?”

“I know about Lucas…” With that she left, her footsteps echoing in the hall.

Just how had the Mayford brothers divided and conquered so effectively? Yet as she considered it, were they actually doing that on purpose, or had they all changed?

Disregarding the troubling thought, she dressed in her blue muslin and pinned her hair firmly, knowing they’d be shamelessly running throughout the maze, ladies or not, some things were never outgrown. With a smile at her reflection in the mirror, she made her way to the hall where they’d start the evening’s activities, hating that as she entered the room, there was only one person she noticed.

Sworn enemy.

Searing kisser.

Tonight would prove interesting.

 

 


H
OW LOVELY, YOU DIDN’T
need to dress up to please me.” Lucas bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling too widely as Meredith’s eyes snapped with fire at his remark. Nevertheless, he reached for her hand to kiss it, and she allowed him.

Small victories.

“You assume much… I understood you to be supremely arrogant in nature, but apparently I can add unobservant to your long list of faults as well.” She shrugged.

“Unobservant?” he asked as he wound her hand around his arm and led her to the table.

“Indeed. You speak as if you are the only male at the party. Who is to say that I dressed to please
you
? Why not another? Am I not allowed my own secrets?” She gave him a saucy grin and slid her gaze away. He followed her line of sight and found himself regarding Lord Ackman.

Jealousy flared within, then calmed as Lady Smyth wound her arm around Lord Ackman’s, an inviting expression on her lips.

Leaning down, he whispered beside her ear, the scent of rose water teasing his senses. “Ah, pride comes before a fall.”

“You would know.”

He chuckled as he pulled out a seat for her.

His mother had been all too pleased to adjust the seating arrangements for him upon his request to sit beside Meredith. Of course, that was after his mother asked him to repeat said request more than once.

As he took the seat beside Meredith, he watched her face flood with color as she glanced from him to the name placard and back, disbelief coloring her expression.

“What are you doing?” she asked in a harsh whisper.

“Sitting?” he answered in an innocent tone.

“Why? Why here? I checked earlier and you were—”

“You checked?” He turned to face her fully, altogether amused.

“Of course I checked! I didn’t want to be beside you!”

“Oh… so sorry to disappoint… but I rather requested the honor of sitting beside so beautiful a lady. My apologies.” He faced forward, and turned to engage in conversation with Lord Hamstaff.

As a few minutes wore on, he felt a hand at his arm. Turning, he raised an eyebrow as he regarded Meredith.

“I thank you for the compliment, but you needn’t waste them on me. I will…” She took a deep breath as if the next words were exceedingly difficult. “Make an effort to be more civil. But that is all — all I can offer you.” Her words were laced with deeper meaning, but he disregarded it.

“How kind of you.” He lifted his recently filled wine glass and started to take a sip, then paused. “You didn’t… add anything to my wine… did you?” He narrowed his eyes at Meredith.

“What? No. Though I can see how it would truly be an easy addition… being that of the similar colors of both the wine and ink.” She nodded toward the glass.

“Very good. I didn’t want a repeat of what happened with Jack.” He took a sip.

“Yes…”

“And I’m sure you had nothing to do with that.”

“No.”

“Brilliant. Am I to consider us in a state of truce then?” He took another sip of wine.

“You may consider whatever you wish, that doesn’t make it a reality.” She lifted her own wine glass, taking a small sip.

“Ah, so are the casualties of war.”

Dinner began without incident as the footmen served the first course of consume beef with delicate minced parsley. The peace even continued through the several courses where roasted venison, perfectly cooked pheasant, and a plethora of sweet breads, vegetables, and wine graced the delicately decorated table.

But peaceful was rather… boring.

“Are you enjoying your evening thus far?” he asked as he set aside his napkin.

“The food has been exceedingly delightful, though I find my dining partner lacking.” She gave a pointed look before turning her attention to her wine glass.

“I am of the same opinion. I rather thought that sitting beside you would be diversity, entertaining in the least. I find I’m… bored. It’s disappointing.” He shrugged, biting back a grin as she paused in setting her wine glass back down upon the linen tablecloth.

“Boring? I rather thought you were enjoying the ‘truce’ as you put it.”

“Truce is not equal to monotonous.”

“Ah, I see you’re attempting intelligent conversation. You should stop now.”

“Afraid of a challenge?”

“I do believe the question is, do you present such a challenge?” She raised a delicate brow. “And the answer is, no.”

“I do believe that is another task you have forced me to accept.”

“Task?”

He leaned toward her, keeping his voice low. “Challenge… similar to the one you presented so… enticingly… last night.”

Her face bloomed with color as she wordlessly reached for her wine glass once more and took a long sip.

“You should consider slowing on the wine, Meredith. You’ll simply be making my quest easier.”

“You mean conquest,” she shot back.

“I think we both know that you will not be a conquest. Which…” He lowered his tone once more, his eyes taking in the berry color of her lips left stained by the wine. “…I think frightens you more than if this were simply about conquest.”

Her intelligent eyes shifted away, her brow pinching slightly. “Why?” she asked so softly he wondered if maybe he imagined the question. Yet as she turned to him, the question was echoed in her gaze.

“I do believe that conversation is better suited for a more… private venue.” He allowed his gaze to meaningfully take in the crowded table. Meredith nodded once and turned to her other diner partner, engaging the Dowager of Moorworth in conversation.

Her presence beside him was acute torture. Even when she was sparring with him, using cutting remarks; he found her more and more enticing, intoxicating, just like the wine. It was a dangerous decision he was making, because the more he entertained the idea, the more he spent time with her, the more he realized it was a one-way path he was taking.

And there was no guarantee she would follow him down that dangerous slope.

 

CHAPTER SEVEN

 

A
LL THROUGHOUT DINNER,
M
EREDITH
could feel his presence like a physical touch. It was as if his body heat called to her, enticed her, reminded her of his presence even when she was trying to forget it. How in creation had this happened? It was just a kiss! Yet she found herself far too drawn to him for comfort. It was a dangerous game, one that could easily be a ploy to destroy her, to get that final payback for all the other pranks, yet some part of her, the one she was desperately trying to silence, kept whispering;
What if it isn’t? What if it’s real? What if people really do change?

But Lucas? Change?

The thought was laughable, yet… not.

So, as dinner ended and the ladies rose from the table to congregate in the parlor, her gaze flickered to his. His regard warmed her, his brown eyes flashing with a hunger that she was recognizing far too easily.

Pulling her gaze away, she turned to leave. It was not lost on her, however, the way Louisa’s gaze lingered with Hugh. Suspicion crept in. What was going on between those two? She stole another glance at Lucas, but quickly looked away when she caught him staring thoughtfully in her direction. Never in her life had she been so confused!

Ignoring the annoying emotion, she straightened her shoulders and walked to the parlor, awaiting the instructions from their hostess, the Duchess of Ashbury.

As soon as they were all assembled, the duchess began to lay out the rules for the evening’s diversion.

“Ladies! I am so thankful for your presence here at our party, and I cannot wait to begin our evening activities! I’m sure that you have heard that this evening’s games will require a male partner. If you haven’t a partner yet, you’ll be assigned one.” She nodded to a footman with a list then continued. “Each pair will be given a clue to find hidden objects within the garden and, especially, the garden maze. Each pair will be given a different clue to begin with, and once you find that hidden object, you’ll discover another clue for the next, and so forth and so on.” She waved her gloved hand in the air.

The room was thick with anticipation, especially as the unmarried ladies practically bounced with excitement. Darkened corners? Available gentlemen? This was a matchmaking momma’s heaven! She could see the calculating glint in several women’s expressions as they took in the other ladies within in the room.

“Finally! The pair that gathers all the clues and has reached all twelve clues, will win the honor of being Lord and Lady Frost at the final ball!”

Gasps and whispers accented her words. Meredith twisted her lip slightly. It would be an honor to be Lady Frost. But that would mean that she needed to be Lucas’ partner for the entire evening.

She wasn’t quite sure how she felt about that.

Because it wasn’t just the dancing.

Lord and Lady Frost would sit on a raised platform like a king and queen during the ball. The evening of dancing would start and end with their waltz, and, as was customary, at midnight the Lord would kiss the Lady under the mistletoe.

It wasn’t as if she hadn’t kissed Lucas before… but she was quite certain that Lucas wouldn’t simply give her a chaste buss on the cheek or lips.

No. Passion like she’d experienced wouldn’t be restrained, and with God and everyone looking, that kiss would compromise her. And the ball might as well be her wedding.

Drat.

Why did he have to ruin everything? Meredith sighed heavily as her competitive streak flared within her. She wanted to win.

She wanted it terribly bad.

Yet at what cost?

Could she trust Lucas? It wasn’t likely, yet what choice did she have? To simply lose?

No.

She wouldn’t do it.

At least, she wouldn’t do it on purpose. It was a matter of a lady’s honor. She’d not throw the game just so she wouldn’t have to endure Lucas’ company for an evening…

She worried her lip.

“Ladies! The gentlemen will be awaiting your arrival outside in the gardens! Once you find your partner, the footmen will distribute your clues! At the sound of the gunshot, you may start!”

The room echoed with the muted sound of gloved hands daintily clapping. “Let the evening commence!” The duchess grinned wildly as the ladies all filed out the door in earnest search of their partners.

“You haven’t won yet.” Sara’s voice startled Meredith as she followed the mass exodus to the Gardens.

“I know that,” she answered.

“Of course…” Sara’s tone was anything but convinced. “I have just as good of odds at winning as you.”

“Perhaps.”

“Maybe better,” Sara goaded.

“Maybe worse.” Meredith turned to taunt her sister, a grin teasing her lips.

“May the best sister win.” Sara extended a hand, and Meredith took it, the thrill of competition causing her smile to widen.

“Why do I feel as if I should know what you two are planning?” Lucas’ voice interrupted her reverie.

Withdrawing her hand from her sister’s, Meredith turned to regard him coolly. “It is none of your concern.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Oh? Do you honestly think that any of my musings, personal or private, concern you? Or involve you in anyway? I assure you, they do not.” She offered a delicate shrug and walked on.

“You know, last I checked, you were my partner, and… partners must communicate even in small amounts if there is to be any chance at winning the game.”

“Who said I wanted to win?” She raised an eyebrow, though Sara’s unladylike snort from behind her gave away her true colors.

Lucas shook his head and leaned in, his smoky and spicy scent assaulting her with longing. “I find I’m in agreement with your sister. I’ve known you for far too long to think you’ll be disinterested in any sort of competitive game. After all, have we not kept up our little… game?” he teased.

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