A Scandalous Past (Regency Romance, Book 4) (9 page)

She nodded, still frowning at him. “We leave
on the morrow.”

Thank God!

He could try to get his mind straight in the
interim. “And you’ll be gone a fortnight?”

“Yes.”

Relief washed over him. He could return to
Derbyshire and check in on Thomas and Rose while she was away,
while she was safe from Haversham. He could use the time to get
himself under control. Then when he returned to Town, he’d search
for the letters, and keep Miss Avery safe from herself. As far as
plans went, it was filled with holes, but for a man who suddenly
found himself drowning, it was like grabbing on to floating balsa
wood.

Brendan flashed her his most charming smile.
“I suppose we’ll have to wait for your return before we schedule
our ride then.”

When the women finally left the men to their
port, it couldn’t have been a moment too soon. Brendan’s last hold
on his control was dangling by the tiniest of threads. All
throughout dinner he’d had to endure Chet boasting about Brendan’s
every accomplishment to Miss Avery, rattling off his estates and
properties. It was as if his friend thought he was incapable of
courting the girl on his own. Of course he wasn’t courting her, not
really. But if he was, he wouldn’t need any help, and certainly not
from Chet of all people. His friend didn’t even know the meaning of
the word subtle.

“You can thank me now,” the gregarious
bastard said with a smile when it appeared the other gentlemen were
engaged in a rather uninteresting political discussion.

Brendan glowered at Chet, but kept his voice
low to keep the others from overhearing. “I’d like to thank you
right into the Thames. That was the most bloody awful dinner I’ve
ever had to sit through.”

“Oh, that’s Hannah’s fault,” Chet said as he
raised his glass to his lips. “She stumbled across some unemployed
army cook and hired the man on the spot. I’m still trying to get
accustomed to the fellow’s idea of what passes for fine
dining.”

“It wasn’t the bloody food,” Brendan bit
out. Though the meal wasn’t a highlight either. “I can do without
your help where Miss Avery is concerned, and I’ll thank you to keep
that in mind.”

Chet shrugged, unconcerned as always.
“Someone needs to help you. I saw the blackguard abscond with her
this afternoon, Brendan. Miss Avery is tempted by adventure and
excitement, neither of which are your best qualities. If you’re
going to win her, you’re going to have to go about it
differently.”

“Since when did you become an authority on
young ladies?”

With a brilliant smile, Chet had the
audacity to wink at him. “Oh,
I’m
not. But Caroline is, and
she thinks you need a little guidance. I’m inclined to agree with
her.”

He was going to slowly kill them all. 
Caroline. Chet. The dowager. Every blasted last one of them. He
pushed his glass aside and rose. “Thank you for a delightful
evening,” he replied mordantly.

“Bren!” Chet frowned.

But he didn’t look back. He waved his hand
over his shoulder and started for the corridor. He stalked down the
hallway, past the drawing room, and was just about to turn the
corner towards his escape when he heard her voice behind him.

“So, are you really the best swimmer in all
of Derbyshire?” she asked with a hint of amusement.

Brendan spun on his heel to find her
standing quietly in the doorway of the Astwick library. How he’d
missed her a moment ago, he had no idea. The soft glow from the
wall sconces bathed her skin in golden hues, complementing her
gown. One dark curl had escaped her coiffure, and rested temptingly
on her shoulder. He couldn’t help but smile at her. “I’m sorry
about all that in there.”

“Do you really need that much help, my
lord?” A soft giggle escaped her, and Brendan was entranced by the
sound.

“No.” Against his better judgment he walked
towards her. His heart pounded so loudly, he could hear it in his
ears. 
Miss Avery is tempted by adventure and
excitement
.  Dear God, somewhere in the last day he’d
completely lost his mind.

Cordie’s eyes widened when Clayworth
suddenly stood before her. There was something different in his
eyes, something she hadn’t noticed until now. Desire. She’d seen
that look on Captain Seaton’s face before she broke their
engagement, but it had never left her as breathless as she felt in
this instant.

The earl touched her fallen curl and wrapped
it around his pinkie, staring at it as if her hair held the answers
to the world’s greatest questions. Then his eyes flashed to hers.
“Do you crave adventure, Cordelia?” he asked softly, his hand
gently caressing her cheek.

Cordie stood paralyzed, staring up at him in
amazement. Her name had never sounded so sensual as it did on his
lips.

Clayworth’s free hand was suddenly on her
waist and he backed her further into the library, holding her
closely against him. “Is that why you surround yourself with
dangerous blackguards? For the adventure?”

She still hadn’t found her voice, which was
something that never happened. Cordie should ask him to stop, or
yell for someone to help her, or slap sense back into him. But she
couldn’t do any of those things as his mesmerizing dark blue eyes
bored into hers. His gaze dropped to her lips, and she swallowed
nervously.

“If I was a wicked scoundrel, could I
capture your heart?”

She managed to shake her head. She wasn’t
after adventure. Where had he come up with that idea?  She
craved freedom to do what she wanted, to be loved and desired. He
apparently desired her, but he was incapable of love, and she
shouldn’t forget…

His warm mouth covered her lips, and Cordie
lost all thought. Her eyes fluttered shut. She staggered slightly,
but his muscled arms steadied her, drawing her to his strong chest.
She inhaled the heady scent of rich, spicy port on his breath as he
sucked on her bottom lip. Clayworth’s tongue lightly touched the
corner of her mouth, and Cordie gasped. He deepened his kiss,
surging inside her.

Tingles raced across her skin. She wouldn’t
be able to stand at all if he wasn’t holding her.

“Kiss me back,” came his guttural plea.

Her hands, of their own free will, cupped
his jaw, and she tentatively touched her tongue to his. Clayworth
moaned at the contact and his arms tightened around her, nearly
robbing Cordie of her breath.  Even still she’d never known
the wanton feelings that were flooding her. Captain Seaton had
kissed her, of course, but not like this. Not like he was a
starving man, and she a platter of delicacies. Each time his tongue
entered her mouth, she was certain she would melt away into
complete nothingness.

“Cordelia!” came her mother’s voice,
somewhere off in the distance.

Clayworth slowly raised his head and stared
down at her with such an intensity Cordie thought she might burst
into flame.

“I think you’re dangerous for me,” he told
her before dropping his arms and stepping a few feet away.

A moment later, her mother stood in the
doorway, smiling when her eyes landed on the earl. “Oh there you
are, Cordelia. I thought I’d lost you.”

Clayworth stepped forward and smiled at the
baroness. “My apologies, Lady Avery. Your daughter was simply
helping me look for a book.”

Her mother frowned at the innocent
explanation. “A book?” she asked dejectedly

“On Scandinavia,” he lied smoothly. How
could he speak so calmly after that kiss? She couldn’t form a
sentence if her life depended on it, but his cool façade was firmly
back in place.

Lady Avery’s face brightened instantly. “Oh,
Lord Clayworth, Cordie should have told you that we have dozens of
books on the Scandinavian countries. My youngest son, Tristan,
spent quite a bit of time there.”

The earl’s smoky eyes settled on Cordie and
she couldn’t help but stare back at him, at his perfectly chiseled
jaw, his slightly swollen lips that had so recently touched her
skin.

“She didn’t mention it,” he drawled easily,
though his baritone voice made Cordie’s knees weak.

“Silly girl,” her mother trilled, stepping
further into the library. “My lord, I insist you visit us at Avery
House to peruse our library.”

“I will be anxiously awaiting your return
from Norfolk.”

***

The ride to Norfolk was painful in many
ways. In the first place, Cordie had hoped she and Phoebe could
talk openly on the journey, but unfortunately, at the last moment,
their mothers decided to change coaches and ride with them. They
certainly couldn’t discuss anything important with those two
harridans listening to their every word. Worse than that, however,
was the fact the ride was exceedingly bumpy and she couldn’t even
drift off to sleep, which she desperately needed as she hadn’t
gotten a wink of sleep the night before.

All night she’d gone over and over
Clayworth’s kiss. From start to finish. It was the most
uncomfortable night she’d ever spent. She’d tossed and turned this
way and that, trying to forget every touch of his tongue to hers,
how large and imposing he felt surrounding her in his muscled arms,
the urgency in his voice when he’d demanded she kiss him back.

Sitting next to Phoebe, she shifted
uncomfortably in her seat as the memory flashed again in her
mind.

“Are you incapable of sitting still?” her
mother finally wondered aloud.

“Sorry. I suppose I’m just anxious to
arrive,” Cordie replied and stared out the window at the passing
Norfolk countryside. Honestly, how much longer would it be? 
And could she retire immediately upon their arrival?  Even if
she did so, would sleep continue to elude her?

Her mother smiled at her, the first smile
Cordie had seen on her face in quite a while. “Don’t worry, dear.
I’m certain he’s awaiting your return just as anxiously as you are.
But time apart is good, too. Absence makes the heart grow fonder
and all that.”

Phoebe’s mouth dropped open, then she
recovered with an innocent smile. “Oh, I’m so relieved that you
know, Lady Avery. I was feeling so guilty. Mother would never let a
man like him court me.”

Haversham
. Cordie’s eyes flashed to
her friend and at the same instant her heart sank. How could Phoebe
say that to her mother, of all people?

Lady Avery frowned and turned her attention
to Mrs. Greywood. “Evelyn, is there something unfavorable about
Lord Clayworth that I’m unaware of?”

Phoebe’s face flushed red when she met
Cordie’s eyes, apparently just now discovering her error in opening
her big mouth.

“Clayworth?” Mrs. Greywood echoed, then
shook her head. “He’s a paragon in everyone’s eyes.”

Though Haversham’s name wasn’t mentioned, it
didn’t take her mother long to figure him out. Cordie could tell
the exact moment Lady Avery’s mind reached that conclusion, because
her face turned a perfectly horrid shade of puce. The Greywoods
presence in the carriage was the only thing preventing her from
suffering a sore backside and bleeding ears.

Lady Avery glared at her daughter the rest
of the journey, two more excruciating hours, until they finally
reached Malvern Hall. Cordie wasn’t certain which was worse—the
anticipation of dealing with her mother’s rising ire or the actual
event.

***

Brendan arrived at Bayhurst Court shortly
after dusk. His nephew, Thomas, raced down the grand staircase upon
his arrival and threw his arms around Brendan’s middle. “Uncle!
You’ve returned,” the boy gushed.

Brendan ruffled his nephew’s shaggy, light
brown hair, then took a step back to get a good look at the boy. “I
was barely gone at all.”

 At ten years old, Thomas was more like
a son than a nephew. When Flora died weeks after the boy’s birth,
Brendan immediately took over the infant’s care. At the time, he
had hopes his new wife, Marina, would make a good mother to the
child, but the circumstance of Thomas’ birth was not something
Marina could get past.

“Well, we weren’t expecting you,” Thomas
explained with a shrug. “We thought once you got to London you’d
stay for a while.”

“Actually,” Brendan began, gesturing for
Thomas to follow him as he went to his study, “I’m only home for a
bit, I’m afraid. I’m working on something in London.”

“Then why are you here?” Thomas asked. The
boy was always inquisitive. It was one of his better qualities, in
Brendan’s opinion. Always trying to figure out how things worked
and why things happened.

Brendan clapped his nephew on the back. “I
hadn’t planned to be gone for long and I wanted to get things in
order before I abandon you and Rose for a period of time.”

“How long will you be gone?” the boy asked,
a hint of sadness in his voice.

He had no idea. At least not until he had
searched Avery House from top to bottom. But how long would that
take? He could find the letters in a day if he was extremely lucky,
or it might take months. “I’m not sure, Tom.” And then there was
Cordelia. When he’d foolishly taken her in his arms, the last thing
on his mind were those blasted letters. Would he even be able to
focus on the job at hand if she was around, tempting him with her
very presence? And if she was gone, he didn’t have an excuse to
visit Avery House. It was a quandary indeed.

As they reached the study, Brendan held the
door open, then followed his nephew inside. He quickly poured
himself the brandy he desperately needed after his journey. Then he
took a second snifter and poured just enough for a swallow. He
handed Thomas the dash of brandy and seated himself opposite the
boy in one of the room’s overstuffed leather chairs.

Thomas looked at the glass with a frown.
“For me?”

Brendan shrugged. “You’re growing into a
man, Tom. Be careful with the first sip, it will burn a bit on the
way down.” He threw back his own glass and downed the velvety oak
brandy in one swallow. He would generally prefer to nurse such an
exceptional drink, but tonight he was tired and sore, and had lots
on his mind he wanted to forget.