A Persistant Attraction (2 page)

“Not rude, simply honest.”

He walked toward her. She backed up, but a bench caught her behind the knees. She sat down hard, her breath escaping in a whoosh.

Rhys sat beside her and took her hand in his. His thumb stroked her wrist, sending waves of heat straight to her belly. “Why are you afraid of me?”

“I’m not afraid. I’m annoyed. Now unhand me and let me go inside.” He smiled. “Prove it.”

“Prove what?”

“That you are not afraid.”

“How would I do that?”

“Kiss me.”

“You must be joking.”

But she looked into his eyes and knew he was quite serious. He’d said the words in a light, teasing tone, but his eyes glowed like a predator stalking prey.

She told herself to get up and go inside, but her legs wouldn’t obey. He’d trapped her like a frightened rabbit. A secret part of her wanted to sample what he had to offer.

His lips descended on hers, and she opened to him. For once in her life, she gave herself utterly to a new sensation.

What a glorious sensation it was. The heat of his mouth enveloped her as his tongue sought the recesses of her mouth. Never in her most fevered fantasy had she imagined a kiss could feel so…exotic and sinful.

Instinct took over, and her tongue reached out, sliding across his and seeking entrance to his mouth. He groaned as she traced his lower lip with her tongue. His arms closed around her, pulling her firmly against his hard chest. She shuddered as his hands stroked the naked skin of her shoulders.

Amanda sank her teeth into the soft flesh of his lip, and he growled. His hands slid around to cup her breasts. When his thumbs flicked across her nipples, bolts of lightning ran through her body.

Then reality crashed like thunder.

She pulled back. His arms dropped away, and he gave her a satisfied smile. Anger churned inside her, but she obeyed her urge to flee, leaping from the bench and rushing into the house without a backward glance.

London, July, 1819

Amanda read the note for what must have been the fifth time. Then she laid it on the table in her sitting room and leaned her head against the sofa. She let out a long, slow breath.
What am I going to do?

How dare this unknown man threaten her and attempt to force her to meet his ridiculous demands? The best thing to do was ignore the note. Perhaps it was only a juvenile prank from a jilted suitor. Despite her icy reputation, men had continued to pursue her throughout the Season. She couldn’t help but compare them all to Rhys Stanton. Not one of them measured up.

Blasted man! It had been two months since she’d made the dreadful mistake of kissing him at Mark and Cassandra’s wedding. At least he’d had the decency to keep his distance since then.

She picked the note up once again. The words still hadn’t changed.

You are being watched. Don’t think you can escape. Bring one thousand pounds to
the Black Eagle in Burton Street at midnight tonight. Otherwise, prepare to meet with an
unfortunate accident. Tell no one.

How preposterous! Even if she wished to comply, where would she get a thousand pounds? It wasn’t as if Aunt Claire kept such sums lying about the house, and she had no money of her own. The note had to be a cruel prank.

She glanced at the clock on the mantel. It was time to ready herself for the Leightons’ ball. She longed to plead a headache and stay home, but Elise, her younger sister, wanted her there. The evening before, Elise had introduced her to a young man she

was enamored of. Her sister hoped he and Amanda might get better acquainted that evening. Elise desperately wanted Amanda’s approval of the potential romance.

*

Elise was fairly bursting with excitement by the time they reached the steps leading to the Leightons’ townhouse, but Amanda felt suffocated by the crowd. Once again she was struck by the differences in her sister’s personality and her own. By the time they reached the end of the receiving line, young men clamored about them hoping to secure a dance with Elise.

Cassandra’s horrible first marriage had tainted Amanda’s opinion of men, but Elise had been spared many of the details of Lord Reddington’s treachery. Elise’s disposition was far sunnier than Amanda’s or Cassandra’s, so she was naturally more suited to making friends in London. Amanda had no doubt that Elise would be engaged by the end of the Season.

As Elise followed her first partner onto the dance floor, Amanda helped their aunt settle into a chair. She told herself she could have a partner if she wanted one. Sitting with the spinsters and matrons was her own choice, one she’d accepted without reservation for the last several months. So why did she suddenly feel so lonely?

She looked across the sea of dancers, thinking perhaps she’d see a friendly face. Few of the girls she’d come out with the year before had enough wit to engage in stimulating conversations, but she had formed a solid friendship with the Blakely sisters, so close in age they were often mistaken for twins. Amanda had been happy to renew her acquaintance with the sisters when their family had returned to town for this year’s Season.

But Amanda didn’t see either of her friends. Instead, she inadvertently caught the eye of Rhys Stanton. As she answered his lascivious smile with a frosty stare, she wondered what could have compelled him to come out that night. He didn’t normally attend respectable parties.

She forced herself to draw her eyes away from him when a footman cleared his throat behind her.

“A note for you, miss.” The man handed her a folded piece of paper.

“Thank you.” She opened it and began to read.

Your sister is feeling unwell. We have stepped onto the terrace for some fresh air.

Please come at once.

The note was unsigned, but it was written in a man’s hand, so she assumed it had come from Elise’s dance partner. Not wanting to alarm her aunt, Amanda simply said she needed to step out for some air.

As she made her way through the crowd, Amanda considered how unusual such a summons was. Elise was the picture of health. Never once had Amanda known her to take ill in the middle of a party. She prayed nothing was seriously wrong.

Amanda stepped onto the terrace, but she didn’t see her sister or anyone else standing close to the door. Light rain had begun to fall, and a sharp wind cut straight through Amanda’s thin dress. Surely if her sister was unwell, she shouldn’t be standing in the rain. One could get plenty of fresh air by the doors, under the cover of the roof. She intended to give Elise’s escort a good set down when she found them.

Amanda walked the length of the terrace. No one was out there, not even a couple using the cover of the potted plants to sneak a kiss.

Suddenly, someone grabbed her from behind and hauled her up against a wall.

She tried to bite the gloved hand that covered her mouth, and her fingernails cut into the man’s arm, pulling with all her might.

“You were warned,” he whispered.

Amanda’s heart raced. If this was a prank, it wasn’t the least bit funny, and the knife pressed against her ribs was frighteningly real.

She forced herself to ignore her fear as she brought the heel of her slipper down on her assailant’s foot. He stumbled back, surprised. She took the opportunity to jerk away, out of the range of the knife.

“Hel—” she tried to scream, but before she could get the word out, he had her locked in his grip again.

She kicked his shin. This time he didn’t lose his hold on her. She realized his threat to harm her was in earnest when his weapon bit into her flesh.

Her hopes and dreams for the future raced through her mind. So many things she would never be able to do. She thought of her family and how they would miss her.

Mustering all the strength she had, she kicked him once more.

The man’s grip held. The knife cut deeper. “Consider this your final warning. You will receive further instructions. Ignore them and die.” She kicked him again, and he released her, falling backwards with a muffled grunt.

When she turned, she saw that her kick had not been what dislodged him. Mr.

Whittaker, the young man her sister had fallen for, had pulled the assailant from her. The two men were locked in combat.

Someone grabbed Amanda’s hand. She jumped and jerked away before realizing it was only Elise.

Her sister’s face was pale. “You’re bleeding.”

“I’ll be fine,” Amanda assured her. The sisters clung to each other as they watched Mr. Whittaker grapple with Amanda’s attacker.

Mr. Whittaker pushed the man back until he was pinned against the low concrete wall surrounding the terrace. The man jumped over the wall and bolted into the night. Mr.

Whittaker leapt after him and disappeared.

By this time, other guests had gathered on the terrace, drawn by the commotion.

Their hostesses, Lady Leighton, and her husband dashed forward as the men disappeared into the gardens. “Miss Halverston, what on earth has happened?” Before Amanda could answer, Lady Leighton gasped and leaned against her husband for support. She pointed to the blood on Amanda’s side.

“Call a doctor,” Lord Leighton said to his son who’d appeared with the crowd.

“It’s just a scratch,” Amanda protested. “I’ll be fine once it’s washed and dressed.” But the young man had already left.

“Let’s get you inside, dear.” Lady Leighton had recovered from her initial shock.

Amanda nodded. Despite her best efforts to remain calm, she’d begun to shake. She couldn’t remain on her feet for much longer.

As they started inside, Mr. Whittaker climbed back over the wall. He was out of breath, but he appeared unharmed. “I lost him. I’m sorry.” Amanda shook her head. “Don’t apologize. You saved my life. I’ll be eternally grateful.”

He bowed his head. “Thank you.”

She wanted to ask how he and Elise had known where to find her, but Lady Leighton insisted she go lie down. Supported by Lady Leighton and her sister, Amanda walked to a small sitting room which opened onto the terrace.

When Amanda was settled on a sofa, Lady Leighton left her with Elise while she went to locate their aunt.

Elise brushed Amanda’s hair back from her face. “What happened?”

“How did you know—?”

The sisters’ words tumbled over each other, and they laughed.

Elise answered first. “The first dance ended and Ben—Mr. Whittaker came to claim me for the next. But Aunt Claire mentioned that you had gone onto the terrace looking agitated. We came to look for you and—” Elise’s eyes filled with tears.

Amanda squeezed her hand. “I’m all right. Really.”

“What if we hadn’t gotten there in time?”

“You did. That’s all that matters.”

“Who was that man?”

“I don’t know. I received a note from a footman saying you were unwell and had gone out for some air. When I stepped outside, that man grabbed me from behind.”

Amanda paused. Should she mention the threatening letter? She decided against it.

She didn’t want to alarm her sister. Once she was home, she would figure out how to manage the situation.

“Did he say anything to you?”

Amanda shook her head. Answering that question would only complicate her deception.

The door opened and Lady Leighton entered followed by Aunt Claire and the doctor.

Aunt Claire hugged her briefly then stepped aside.

After the man finished his examination, he stood and addressed Aunt Claire. “Your niece is a lucky young woman. She’s has a wretched cut, but with a few days of rest, she will make a full recovery. Wash the area twice daily and apply some of this salve.” He set a jar on the sofa table.

“Thank you,” Amanda said, even though the man had spoken as if she weren’t there.

He nodded. “You’re welcome. I’m glad I could be of assistance. Call immediately if she develops a fever.” Once again he directed his words to Aunt Claire. Amanda supposed most society women would be insensible in her condition.

Once he’d gone, Amanda insisted on seeing Mr. Whittaker again so she could thank him. She also wanted to question the footman who’d brought her the note.

Lady Leighton begged her to rest and make inquiries in the morning, but she refused to wait, and both men were summoned. Mr. Whittaker arrived first, since he’d been hovering near the door.

“Miss Halverston. Are you truly all right?”

“Yes, thanks to you. I can’t express enough gratitude for what you did. You were remarkably brave.”

The young man’s pale cheeks turned bright red. Amanda couldn’t help but notice the look of pride on her sister’s face.

“You’re welcome, Miss Halverston. I’m glad we were able to find you in time.”

“As am I, Mr. Whittaker. As am I.”

The footman who’d brought her the note was admitted to the room a few moments later. He was pale, and his hands shook as he closed the door behind himself. “Miss, I ’ad no idea. I would never have given the note to you if’n I’d thought somethin’ bad would happen.”

“Don’t fret so.” Amanda wished she didn’t have to bear his case of nerves on top of her own stress. “I simply want to ask you a few questions.”

“Yes, miss.” Her words seemed to help. He straightened up, and the working class accent he’d fallen into all but disappeared.

“Who brought the note to you?”

“A Mrs. Lillington, miss. She’s an officer’s wife. She said the note had been passed to her by a man she did not know.”

Amanda looked at Lady Leighton. “How well do you know this woman?”

“We’re well acquainted. She’s in my reading circle. But I believe she left just before the commotion began.”

“If you would be so kind as to give me her direction, I will call on her as soon as I am able.”

Amanda turned back to the footman. “Did you see anyone lurking around the terrace or near the doors?”

“No, miss, but I’d be happy to ask those who were stationed closer to that area.”

“Please do and report anything you learn to Lady Leighton.”

“Yes, miss.”

Once Amanda dismissed the footman, Aunt Claire insisted on taking her home.

“Is there anything else I can do to be of assistance?” Lady Leighton asked.