An Indecent Proposition (30 page)

“Nothing about Alfred is terrible.”
Except that passionless kiss, of course,
an insidious voice whispered.

“I agree. He’s a nice man as far as I can tell.” Lady Wynn gave a small, telling sigh, little more than a breath. “But do you love him?”

No one had asked her that.
No one.
Not her guardian, not Margaret, not even Alfred himself. It shook her, and Annabel was already shaken enough when she thought about her upcoming nuptials, thanks to Derek. Upon her life, she couldn’t think of how to respond to the question she never expected to be asked.

Beautiful silver eyes glimmered with what looked like understanding as the silence lengthened. Finally, Lady Wynn murmured, “I see.”

Annabel swallowed convulsively. “He’s kind.”

“He does appear to be that way.”

She hated to hear the agreement made with a touch of sympathy. “And generous.”

“I’m sure.”

“And suitable.” Oh drat, had she really, really used that horrible word, flinging it out there as if it were something admirable?

“He is that.” Caroline Wynn smiled faintly.

Why was this happening now? Why had some woman she didn’t even know suddenly appeared to address her most telling doubts? It was the worst timing possible.

Or maybe the most fortuitous considering her lingering dilemma.

There was no possible way she could sit still any longer. Annabel got up and walked across the room. She leaned an arm on the pianoforte and took in a long, calming breath. “Can I please ask why you feel this is any of your business at all?”

Lady Wynn hesitated and then squared her shoulders. “Lord Manderville asked me to speak with you on his behalf.”

Derek.

Annabel turned in slow wooden motion like a puppet and stared at her guest. Of course. Lady Wynn was exquisite with all that gleaming red-brown hair and her voluptuous figure, slender but curvaceous, temptation incarnate for a randy male like the lascivious Earl of Manderville. She said heatedly, “He sent you here to plead his case?”

“Have I pleaded?”

Well, Lady Wynn had a point; she hadn’t, but still Annabel felt outraged.

And jealous. Very jealous in a way that involved her soul, her mind, and very definitely the pit of her stomach. There a small black ball sat, heavy as lead. She steadied herself. “I have never heard any whispers attached to your name, madam, but I can only assume what kind of friend Derek Drake might be to you. You are desirable and female, and that says it all.”

Composed and still looking at her in that unnerving empathetic way, Lady Wynn shook her head. “He hasn’t as much as touched my hand. What’s more, he hasn’t even attempted.”

The situation was getting more bewildering by the moment. “Then how could you be friends with him?”

A becoming blush crossed the perfect features of the woman across the room. “It’s rather a complicated story, but the short of it is I think he is actually a very decent man and, beyond a doubt, more than a little in love with you. Hence my presence here. Yes, he wished for me to speak with you because by his own admission his usual charm has no effect.”

“That is because you are wrong. He is an appalling blackguard with the morals of an alley cat.”

But the protest wasn’t said with enough conviction. Annabel could still see him, standing there in her bedroom, and hear that poignant declaration.
I love you. . . .

She wanted to believe it, and it was heaven and hell at the same time to feel that flicker of hope it might be true. Either way her doubts about marrying Alfred now were very real, even without the observations of her unexpected guest.

“I understand the earl’s reputation gives you pause. It tells me you are not just interested in his looks, title, and wealth. He isn’t perfect, but sometimes those are the very rogues we fall in love with.”

Annabel asked in a voice that wasn’t quite steady, “Do you speak from experience, Lady Wynn?”

 

The young woman standing a few paces away had an almost accusing look on her pretty face, her blue eyes dark and wide, her small hands clenched into fists at her sides.

It had taken quite a bit of resolve to walk through the door of the Drake town house, and it would be even harder to admit to her current state of infatuation with Nicholas Manning. However, Caroline had promised Derek to help him, and from the expression on the face of Annabel Reid, he was completely right about her feelings for him. The posture of her body indicated a certain vulnerability in her poignant distress, and she had flared into defensive anger at just the mention of Lord Manderville’s name.

He was right. Miss Reid was not at all indifferent. From the high spots on her cheeks, she was quite the opposite.

“Yes, I do.” Caroline feigned a nonchalance she didn’t feel. “But I am hardly here to talk about my folly, but yours instead. Tell me, do you think you can marry Lord Hyatt and not regret the decision?”

“If I didn’t think he was a sensible choice, I would not have accepted his proposal.”

“Forgive me, but the word ‘sensible’ lacks any resemblance to a romantic ideal.”

Soft lips compressed into a hard line. “I had a romantic ideal once, Lady Wynn, and found out it was based on a fable, a myth I’d created in my own foolish mind. Since it is obvious Derek has spoken to you about me, you might already know I fancied myself in love with him at one time. His looks and charm turned my head and I hadn’t even had my coming-out yet, so I was particularly susceptible. I dreamed one day he might return my feelings. I knew of his reputation, but somehow it didn’t matter. Like a fool, I fantasized that for me he would change.”

Caroline couldn’t help but murmur, “I believe I understand perfectly.”

Annabel shook her head, some distant memory making her eyes shimmer, and she blinked rapidly a few times. “I was very wrong.”

“He told me his version of the story and I must admit I believe he’s sincere in his regret over both hurting you and losing your regard.” Lord Manderville had not spared himself in the brief recital, citing his own behavior as insensitive and selfish. Caroline could only guess at what it cost him in male pride to be so blunt about his feelings to a virtual stranger, but she felt he was being so candid because he was truly desperate for her help. The incident in the carriage with Nicholas seemed to prove that the earl was doing his part, so Caroline wanted to return the favor. Even if she hadn’t promised him, the bleak look on Annabel Reid’s face would have moved her.

She knew all too well how Annabel was feeling.

The young woman standing by the polished pianoforte smoothed a trembling hand on her skirt in an absent gesture, her gaze very direct. “Yes, he did hurt me, and yes, he lost my regard.”

“And you believe Lord Hyatt can mend your broken heart?”

The question hung there in the quiet of the room.

The silence was the answer.

With dignity, Annabel finally said, “I believe he will treat me well, give me children, and we will get along together. He isn’t in love with me either, as far as I can tell, and actually, it is a relief. It means we want the exact same thing out of our marriage. Companionship and a family.”

“What about passion? What if there are no children? I can say with some measure of authority there is no guarantee. Then it will be just the two of you . . . forever.”

“We are friends.” The protest was swift, but something flickered in the other woman’s eyes.

Doubt? It might be.

“Which is pleasant, I agree, but hardly enough.” Not at all used to discussing her feelings, much less something as private as what she’d shared with Nicholas, nonetheless Caroline braced herself to be frank. After all, she’d arrived uninvited and presumed to discuss something very personal. “Though I have never told anyone the truth about my own marriage, I am willing to do so with you. I know I was woefully uninformed over what to expect and the results were disastrous. Our circumstances aren’t identical, but there is enough similarity I feel it might help you, regardless of the decision you make over Lord Manderville. However, if your mind is firmly made up, I will take my leave.”

For a moment Annabel appeared to hold an inner debate, but then she came back and sat back down across from her on a brocade settee. “I am not sure,” she confessed in a voice that held a faint wobble, “exactly why I want to hear what you have to say, but I do.”

Perhaps it was the coward in her, but Caroline had half hoped to be dismissed so she wouldn’t have to speak about something she’d done her best to forget. She nodded and glanced away, taking a moment to gather her composure. Clearing her throat, she looked back and smiled in wry acknowledgment. “This might be embarrassing for both of us, but I will do my best. Let me start with the simple statement that intimacy between a man and a woman can be many things. The wrong man can make it a shocking and awful experience, and the right one can make it more pleasurable than you could ever imagine. I hope you will not judge me too harshly when I tell you I’ve experienced both, as it is common knowledge I have only been married once.”

Annabel regarded her with those very lovely dark blue eyes. “If your husband was the wrong man, I would hardly blame you for seeking solace elsewhere, my lady.”

“My husband, quite frankly, was a terrible man, and a woman is never more vulnerable than when submitting to the sexual needs of a male. Yes, we know they tend to be taller than we are, and are built differently, but as sheltered young ladies, we are not quite aware of how much stronger they are. We are also not aware—or I wasn’t—of the actual mechanics of the act itself. If you are like I was, you must have wondered, but it is this great mystery, kept from us because it is indelicate to discuss.”

A soft flush had come into Annabel’s smooth cheeks. “Even Margaret won’t say much about it to me. She vows to explain before the wedding.”

Though she was only a few years older, Caroline felt vastly more sophisticated and the cost of her education had been dear. “Make sure she does, or feel free to ask me. A little knowledge can help a great deal when initiated to something so . . . personal. My point now is not to explain the process in anatomical detail, but to illustrate the emotional trust involved. As a leap of faith it is a huge one. Can you imagine lying naked next to Lord Hyatt for the rest of your life? Can you imagine having him touch you everywhere, even the most intimate of places? Do you want to be held in his arms, taste his kiss, or are your visions more of him passing the rack of toast at the breakfast table?”

“I have considered my wifely duty, of course.” Annabel looked pinker with each passing moment.

“Duty?” The deft expertise of Nicholas’s touch came to mind, and the ripe, overpowering splendor it evoked. The way she trembled with him, the feel of his need inside her, the impetuous pleasure of his mouth against her skin. Caroline raised her brows. “It should have nothing to do with duty or you are cheating yourself.”

Somewhere she’d touched a nerve, for Annabel said defensively, “Most marriages in society are not based on love but practicality.”

“Indeed they are. And look at the results. Both husbands and wives stray, trying to find what they don’t have within their bedroom walls. How do you think Lord Manderville and the Duke of Rothay built their formidable reputations for vice? Not by seducing eligible young women. That is for certain or they would have been dragged to the altar long ago. They were even able to make their outrageous bet and have the
haut ton
think it both amusing and intriguing.”

The woman across from her stared at the patterned carpet, her face shuttered. “Derek claims the bet was made in a drunken moment because of my engagement.”

“I have confirmation he is telling the truth.”

Almost as soon as she said the words, she regretted it. Annabel was no fool and her gaze sharpened as she looked up. “From the duke?”

Yes, she’d definitely said too much. Hopefully Miss Reid was trustworthy, but Caroline had just associated herself with both men. She stifled the urge to grimace and tried to emulate her best image of the cool unapproachable widow. “The source doesn’t matter. I believe him. The question is, do you? Derek Drake claims to love you, and with his title and fortune he is hardly an ineligible man, not to mention you just told me you don’t have deep feelings for Lord Hyatt.”

Annabel made a helpless gesture with her hand. “Am I supposed to sever my engagement on the faint chance Derek is really serious about this? Let’s not forget my conviction he would never be faithful, even if he was sincere. What does a man like him know about love?”

“I would think”—Caroline chose her words carefully, considering her own disquiet on the subject—“he would most definitely know the difference. Between his usual detachment and his vast experience with it, surely he of all people would recognize it is different with you.”

“Vast experience is right,” Annabel muttered, though her face was no longer set in a militant expression of anger and denial but more a pensive look of near despair. “Tell me, Lady Wynn, if you were in my place, would you believe him? Would you risk your entire future and throw away a chance at a safe and secure marriage with a nice man to hinge your hopes on a known libertine? Just recently all of London was agog as his name was bandied about with that of a known adulteress in an extremely scandalous divorce. His claim to innocence might or might not be true.”

Nicholas despised his notoriety also, and had mentioned how much of it was spun out of thin air. Caroline shook her head. “Gossip is unreliable and there is no evidence the allegation is true.”

Annabel looked unmoved except for the quiver of her mouth. “Fine, I concede that, but even if he thinks he means what he says about his feelings for me, who is to say it will last?”

The argument was valid. Caroline couldn’t deny it.