All's Fair in Love and Seduction (3 page)

Plowing her fingers through the thick vibrancy of his hair, Elizabeth twined her hands around his neck, and tipped her head back wanting nothing else but to submit and feed the hunger pulsing inside her. Her tongue worried his full bottom lip. A groan of pleasure rumbled from his chest as he took the kiss deeper, drugging her into mindlessness.

He pulled her closer at the same time she pressed for more contact. The hard thrust of his erection prodded heavily against her belly. A rush of moisture pooled between her thighs. Elizabeth briefly broke the kiss and let out a ragged moan. Clutching her backside firmly in his hands, Lord Creswell angled her hips so he could fit his erection where she was wet for him, ached to be filled by him. Pleasure stole her next breath and she gasped, wanting only to push against him without the encumbrance of skirts, petticoats and stays.

The click of a door was the same as spraying cold water on two particularly amorous dogs. They sprang apart, Elizabeth wrenching herself from the warmth of his arms, her breath coming in short halting pants, her body still thrumming with unquenched desire.

A young girl’s tittered laughter filled the air. She was quickly hushed by a male voice and then all went silent but for the click of footsteps on the flagstone, until even that was no more. Fear of discovery made Elizabeth unwilling to chance a glance around their leafy shelter to ensure they were alone. Instead, she peered up at the viscount.

Except for the slight ruffling of his hair where her fingers had played, Lord Creswell did not appear all that affected by the kiss. But a look down revealed his erection straining against his black trousers.

She’d felt
that
pressed against her but the visual evidence of his arousal heightened her own.

“I should not have permitted you to kiss me like that.”

“Then
how
should you have permitted me to kiss you?” he asked smiling. “Or perhaps the better question would be
where
.” His gaze dropped suggestively to her breasts and then drifted lower. And lower still.

Dear Lord, he can’t mean he would ever put his mouth
there. The thought should have repulsed her but the heaviness at her center returned anew, growing slick under his heavy-lidded gaze.

“I didn’t mean for you to kiss me a’tall,” she said, her face fiery hot with embarrassment. What she spoke was the truth. She hadn’t followed him out here to encourage much less participate in him taking such liberties. She’d wanted to meet him face-to-face and finally satisfy the curiosity about him she had harbored for six long years.

“Is that so? Well, I look forward to our next…meeting.” He spoke softly and smiled almost gently, as if he was privy to something she was not.

Perhaps thoughts of all the things he wanted—intended to do with her.

Her faced burned. “I should go back. Missy must be wondering where I’ve got to.” She hesitated, waiting but unsure of what. Certainly not to see if he’d try to convince her to remain where they could share more of those mind-drugging kisses. Her wanton response spoke for itself.

“I will not keep you then.” He sketched a bow.

It was for the best.

“It probably would not be wise if we returned together. I will use the entrance on the side. Rutherford keeps that door open for these affairs. If you like, I shall go first.” He lifted his brow in question, now all gallantry and polished composure.

Elizabeth agreed with a little nod and watched as he disappeared, silent and sure-footed, into the moonless night. When she heard the last of his retreat, she turned on her heel, dashed a quick glance around before making her way toward the French doors.

And then another voice emerged from the dark. “Why, Miss Smith, what a surprise.”

Chapter Three

At the sound of the nasally voice of Lady Danvers, Elizabeth immediately went as still as prey sensing danger. Instinct told her not to turn around, but to run and hide.

But she knew she couldn’t outrun the reach of the dowager’s influence and hiding would merely bring out the gossip hounds, who could sniff out a brewing scandal in their sleep.

Perhaps Lady Danvers hadn’t witnessed anything untoward and thereby worthy of gossip, malicious or otherwise. Perhaps she was merely stopping her to exchange pleasantries. A perfectly lovely fantasy.

With a smile fixed in place, Elizabeth turned to confront the danger head on.

Oh Lud!
Lady Danvers’ presence would have been bad enough, but to add to Elizabeth’s growing dismay, at her side stood Mrs. Albright, one of her mother’s oldest and dearest friend. Her raised brow and tight lips conveyed a mixture of shock and concern.

What on earth was she doing here? Her mother had mentioned her friend would be visiting with her niece in London for a spell in the summer but had never mentioned an acquaintance with her cousin Missy or James.

“Who was that with you?” Lady Danvers demanded, her voice ringing out haughty and shrill. Her eyes, a shade of blue not heralded by the poets, flashed triumphantly behind a pair of gold-rimmed glasses.

When Elizabeth didn’t immediately respond—for she could not think of one face saving thing to say—the dowager flicked a gloved hand at her as she made a coarse inspection of her from head to hem and then back up again. “You should be ashamed of yourself. I realize this is your first Season, but in London society, country girls are expected to comport themselves better than barn felines. Loose morals have no place here.”

Elizabeth would have preferred to be cross-examined before the magistrate than suffer the dowager’s dressing down. Her world was crumbling down around her and she could do little to stop the destruction.

Opposite of the Dowager Countess of Danvers in every possible way with her small-boned frame and impeccable manners, Mrs. Abernathy appeared unwilling to convict Elizabeth without a fair hearing. “Lady Danvers, I’m sure you are mistaken. I have known Elizabeth since she was a babe. If you would give the poor girl a chance, I’m quite certain she has a perfectly logical explanation.”

Elizabeth could have kissed her, the dear woman. Mrs. Abernathy had always had a fondness for her and her sisters, bringing them treats on every visit with her mother.

“What possible explanation could there possibly be? It’s quite obvious they were doing a sight more than flower gazing. And don’t you try to protect her. You heard their goings on as clearly as I did.” The dowager folded fleshy arms across her ample breasts, refusing to budge an inch as she stood set to be jury and judge while wielding her executioner’s sword like she’d been going so all her seventy odd years.

Elizabeth met Lady Danvers’ disapproving glower without flinching. The Dowager Countess of Danvers was a formidable force in society, her influence wide reaching and much sought after. An unfavorable word from her lips would spell certain disaster for someone in Elizabeth’s position.

Anger began a slow burn at the woman’s arrogance.

What possible explanation indeed.

But Elizabeth wasn’t addled in the brain as to respond the way she wanted—the way she ought to—fully understanding the ways of London society. A healthy dose of fear settled in the pit of her stomach.

Think, think, think.

She must tell the blasted woman something before the gossip wheels began to turn in earnest and at record breaking speeds. If the dowager countess had her way, Elizabeth and the Smith name would be dirt before the evening closed.

“My sincerest apologies, my lady, if my behavior has been indiscreet. But in my excitement, I acted out of character.” Where she was going with this, Elizabeth hadn’t the faintest idea, but Mrs. Abernathy’s brown eyes widened and Lady Danvers gave a succinct nod, urging her to proceed. She now had their most focused attention.

“It’s not to be announced until the end of the Season, but given what you heard, I shall tell you. I would hate it if you walked away thinking the worst of me.”

Elizabeth drew in a deep breath and threw herself at the mercy of an uncertain fate. “The gentleman had just asked me to marry him. I am betrothed—or at least I shall before the end of the Season.” Which gave her four weeks to perform that minor miracle.

A delighted smile, stretched across Mrs. Abernathy’s face. “Oh my dear girl, that is wonderful. My, your mother never said of word of it to me.” She clapped her hands together in girlish glee.

However, the dowager wasn’t so easily fooled. She directed a level stare at Elizabeth that made her want to squirm. Acting was not one of Elizabeth’s talents but with her future resting in the hands of an unyielding and austere Lady Danvers, she summoned up every bit of ingenuity she possessed—which did not account to much—and smiled a foolish, giddy smile of a young woman with stars in her eyes and love in her heart.

“And to
whom
are you betrothed?” the countess asked.

“Unfortunately, I cannot say until the gentleman receives the blessing of my father. Which my father will grant, of course, as the gentleman is titled,” she added quickly, willing to say anything to remove the skepticism from the dowager’s eyes.

Lady Danvers glanced at Mrs. Abernathy before turning back to her. “A peer you say?” She spoke with enough doubt in her tone to offend.

The witch!

Although truthfully, Elizabeth acknowledged that before her father inherited his title, there was more a likelihood that money would fall from the sky than her marrying even a sir. But now it was indeed possible, especially with the one thousand pounds her father had settled on her.

Elizabeth drew back her shoulders and stiffened her spine. “Yes, my lady, a lord.”

In response, the dowager raised one over-plucked eyebrow and gave a soft, harrumph before saying, “I will be expecting an introduction before you go announcing it to all of London.”

If the woman had requested she deliver her the moon on a platter, Elizabeth would have gladly promised to do just that. But since thankfully, the dowager hadn’t asked the impossible, Elizabeth just nodded vigorously. “You will be the first to know, that I promise.”

“Make certain you do.” The unspoken threat of revealing all the dowager had heard and seen tonight all over London simmered between them. “And do make yourself presentable before you go back inside. It shan’t take a genius to guess what you have been up to.”

Elizabeth acknowledged Mrs. Abernathy with a grateful smile, performed an ingratiating curtsey toward the dowager before hastily taking her leave, pondering how precisely she was going to get herself out of this mess.

~*~*~

After slipping back inside, Elizabeth was met by Missy. She attempted to excuse herself from the remainder of the ball pleading a headache but her cousin insisted they speak privately because she knew something was troubling her. As Elizabeth knew Missy would ruthlessly wear her down with her compassion and concern, she‘d acquiesced without another word and led Missy to her bedchamber.

Five minutes later, Missy paced the carpeted floor at the foot of the bed, her slender fingers twirling a lock of chestnut hair she’d pulled from the pins securing it into an elegant coiffure, her smooth brow furrowed in fierce concentration.

“Well, I would definitely say you have managed to get yourself into quite a bind,” Missy stated after a lengthy silence that followed Elizabeth’s recount of the evening’s events.

At least she hadn’t told her how utterly thoughtless and foolish she‘d been to have put herself in such a situation. Elizabeth had already berated herself up one side of Hyde Park and down the other.

“What am I to do?” she asked, doing her best to tamp down a wave of panic that seemed to ebb and flow depending on who, the viscount or the dowager, her thoughts centered upon.

Her cousin’s expression immediately became contrite. Holding out her hand, she motioned Elizabeth to the large canopy bed. “Come, sit down. You look like a bundle of nerves. Don’t fret so. All will be well, I promise.”

Missy angled toward her once they were seated on the edge of the bed and looked Elizabeth in the eye. “Lord Creswell
must
marry you. I can see no other way.”

Difficult as it was, Elizabeth had to face the truth of her words. And that wasn’t to say she herself abhorred the thought. Her distress stemmed from the unfortunate circumstances and her one glaring omission. She had to tell him who she was.

“He is going to be angry.”

Missy’s back went straight as a board and a steely glint entered her blue-gray eyes. “Then he should have been more circumspect in his dealings with you,” she said her voice cooling several degrees.

As much as Missy admired the viscount, Elizabeth knew her cousin would have no problem taking him on to defend her honor. Elizabeth dropped her gaze to her lap. Never had she felt so unworthy of such unstinting loyalty.

“I will speak with James tomorrow, you best get some sleep.”

Elizabeth’s face blistered with heat. Good Lord, what would he think of her? And worse yet, what would he do? “James will not-not—”

Missy’s countenance softened and a teasing smile transformed her beautiful face to nothing short of breathtaking. “Don’t worry, my dear, my husband is not a violent man. Moreover, he is terribly fond of Lord Creswell, as are we all.”

“Oh no, I didn’t mean—”

The soft lilting sound of Missy’s laughter cut off Elizabeth’s stricken protest. “Be assured, James will know precisely how to handle this situation. He’s a very gifted arbitrator. Jason and Jessica are as malleable as clay in his hands,” she said, speaking of her and James’s two-year-old twins.

Elizabeth smiled faintly. She could well imagine. The earl had that kind of effect on people.

“But I don’t want him to be forced to marry me if he is opposed.”

“The viscount should consider himself very fortunate to have you as his wife.”

Now would be the time to tell Missy about the less than amiable past they shared, but after seeing the hope and confidence in her cousin’s eyes, Elizabeth couldn’t bring herself to heap yet another bit of misery upon her tonight. Perhaps, when the morning dawned clear and bright, her future wouldn’t appear quite so miserable and gray.