Enticing Miss Eugenie Villaret (11 page)

When the gentleman returned her smile, anger of a type Will hadn’t known before surged through him and he wanted to knock the other man’s white teeth down his throat.

“Wivenly?”

He tore his eyes away from Eugénie and the other gentleman and attended Andrew, who stood next to an older couple.

“Mrs. Whitecliff, allow me to introduce my friend, Lord Wivenly. Wivenly, my future in-laws, Mr. and Mrs. Whitecliff.”

Will bowed over the lady’s hand, then shook her husband’s. Will’s gaze strayed again to Eugénie.

“My lord?”

He jerked his attention back to the couple. He’d apparently missed a question from Mrs. Whitecliff. What the deuce was wrong with him? “Excuse me.”

“No need to explain, my lord.” Mr. Whitecliff gave a bark of laughter. “Eugénie’s quite in her looks this evening.”

“Yes, sir.” There was no denying that.

Will had been staring at her like a besotted fool. If she’d been lovely before, she was dazzling in the silk gown that brought a sparkle to her skin and revealed every curve of her lush form. A single pearl hung suspended below each exquisite ear on a thin gold wire, calling attention to her graceful neck. Every movement of a pearl made him want to catch it between his teeth, then slowly run his tongue over her shell-shaped ear. He could still taste her warm skin. Soon. Somehow he’d have to discover a way to marry her without delay.

As he stood with Andrew and the Whitecliffs, Eugénie still hadn’t even acknowledged Will’s presence. Although, by the way she seemed to notice everyone but him, she knew he was there. Did she really think he’d allow her to ignore him? She smiled at the man again.
The minx.
If that kept up, he might drag her out of the room.

“You are a lucky man,” Mr. Whitecliff said, once more interrupting Will’s thoughts. “Not as lucky as Andrew here, but I’ll have to admit to being partial.”

Before Will could think of a response, Miss Whitecliff came to join them. She tucked her small hand in Andrew’s arm, unlike Will’s betrothed, who was too engrossed with another man to greet him. Cicely’s face glowed as she looked up at Grayson. That rankled, and Will had had enough of Eugénie’s Turkish treatment. It was time she knew to whom she belonged.

He inclined his head to Miss Whitecliff, who gave him a tight smile, before he strode over to stand behind Eugénie, so close her skirts brushed his breeches, and he had a view of the soft swell of her creamy bosom. Though she still ignored him, her shoulders straightened. He lifted his hand and twisted one of the wispy curls on her neck around his finger. The rise and fall of her breasts quickened.

Now he had her attention. “My dear, please introduce me to your friend.”

She stilled for only a moment. “My lord, may I present Mr. Bendt Henriksen, a friend of my family’s. Mr. Henriksen, my
fiancé
, Lord Wivenly.”

Will drew her possessively against his body. It may not have been proper, but he wasn’t in London, and a compulsion to lay his claim on Eugénie over rode any other consideration. He started to incline his head, then remembered the custom here was to shake hands. He held out his hand to greet Mr. Henriksen. “My pleasure. I’m glad to meet any friend of my uncle’s.”

The man clasped Will’s hand and grinned. “Good to meet you as well. I wondered who would finally catch our little Eugénie. Congratulations, my lord.”

He gave a polite smile. “I count myself fortunate to win such a prize.”

Eugénie sucked in a sharp breath. His smile broadened. As long as they were in company, she had no recourse but to take what he dished out. This was much more entertaining than trying to make her submit to his dictates. He slid his hand from her waist over her lush bottom and pinched just hard enough to get her attention.

She gave a satisfying little jump. “Oh!”

“Is anything wrong, my love?” Will asked with all the solicitude he could muster.

Eugénie’s face was a polite mask as she turned toward him, but her eyes flashed, promising vengeance. “No, not at all. I remembered something I forgot to tell Miss Whitecliff.” Eugénie curtseyed to him and Henriksen. “Please excuse me.”

Will wrapped his fingers around her arm. “If Mr. Henriksen will forgive me?”

“Not at all,” the Dane said. “I should pay my respects to Mrs. Wivenly.”

“I shall accompany you, my dear.”

“What,” Eugénie hissed, “do you think you are doing?”

“Merely remaining close to you.” Will lowered his voice so only she could hear. “I have no intention of allowing you to flirt with other men.”

Even if they had apparently known her all her life.

“Indeed, my lord?” Her tone was pure challenge.

“Do not push me,” he said, using clipped consonants.

She raised one haughty brow but said nothing more as they approached Andrew and his betrothed.

Miss Whitecliff slid a concerned glance at Eugénie. “Are you all right?”

Will moved his hand to her waist, and her breath hitched. “I am fine. The air is perhaps a little stifling at times.”

“If you’d like,” Will said, bending his head toward her, allowing his breath to lightly caress her neck, “I can take you outside.”

Her body stiffened slightly, and she swallowed. “No, thank you, my lord. I shall manage here quite well.”

Andrew opened his mouth as if to make a comment just as the butler called the party to dinner.

Will escorted Eugénie to the dining room and was disappointed to find himself seated at the opposite end of the table from her, on Mrs. Whitecliff’s right. He’d not considered that the table arrangement would be so formal here in the West Indies.

Once the meal was completed, he sat through what seemed to be an interminable round of toasts to both him and Andrew until the other guests began to arrive. If Will hadn’t known better he’d have thought it was all designed to keep him from being alone with Eugénie.

As they left the dining room, he was held up by an introduction to an older lady, allowing his affianced wife to leave the room on the arm of yet another gentleman. By the time he entered the drawing room, Eugénie,
the vixen
, was already surrounded by her court. The dolts hung on her every word. He strolled over to her, but just as he was within an arm’s length of her, she moved away. At first he followed, but it didn’t take him long to catch the humorous smiles and looks on the other guests’ faces. Damnation. They were laughing at him. He grabbed a glass of champagne.

Half-way through the evening, Will leaned against the side of a window, his blood coming to a boiling point as Eugénie seemed to drink in every compliment the other men gave her. Each time he’d tried to bring her back under his control, she’d danced skillfully away, keeping just out of his reach as yet another person congratulated him. How many of the men had she kissed?

He’d briefly considered flirting with some of the other ladies, but, as Andrew reminded him, this was a small community, and Will was the newcomer. Nevertheless, his temper fr more with each smile she bestowed on another gentleman.

Across the drawing room, Miss Whitecliff spoke in Eugénie’s ear and the ladies left the room.

Another glass of champagne was pressed into his hand.

“If you’ll take a bit of advice from one who has known her since she was a small bit of a girl,” Henriksen said and waited until Will nodded. “A spirited woman is like a fast ship. She needs a light hand on the tiller. Too much and she’ll have you turning in circles.”

She was certainly doing that. She’d bested him at every turn. In fact, she was like no other woman he’d ever met. “Thank you.”

The man took a sip of his wine. “I think your friend Mr. Grayson wants you to join him.”

Will pushed himself away from the wall. Andrew stood next to the door where the ladies had made their exit. “Have a good evening, Mr. Henriksen.”

“You too, my lord.”

Once in the corridor, Will tried to keep the frustration from his voice, but his words still came out in a low rumble. “Where is she?”

“The ladies are waiting for us.” Andrew rubbed his jaw. “You may see Miss Villaret only if you promise to behave.”

Behave hell. Will’s jaw tightened. “I’ve conducted myself perfectly well.”

Andrew’s brows shot up. “You’ve acted like a perfect jackanapes, and if you weren’t so caught up in what
Viscount Wivenly
wants, you’d realize it. I’ll take that as a no.”

Damnation, would they all conspire to keep him from her? “I’ll be fine.”

“You won’t say or do anything to offend her?”

Will ran a hand over his face. “I’ll be the perfect gentleman.”

“See that you are.” Andrew frowned.

Women
. They changed everything. Look at what Marcus and Rutherford had done to Beaumont by helping Serena, now Lady Beaumont flee to Paris, and now Andrew had turned on Will. Why was it the moment a man fell in love, he abandoned his friends? It damned sure wasn’t going to happen to him.

E
ugénie waited with Cicely on the torch-lit terrace at the top of the garden. She’d seen the lines of Wivenly’s face become rigid. During the evening, his eyes had grown colder as he’d glared at her, becoming more and more upset with her as the night went on. She prayed it was due to jealousy, but perhaps he thought of her merely as an object to possess. If only she hadn’t been so naïve and stupid as to allow him to kiss her, none of this would be happening.

The sound of long, quick strides ringing on stone reached her just before Mr. Grayson and Wivenly arrived. His friend whispered something in Wivenly’s ear, and he nodded. Yet his lips were set in a straight line. He glanced at her and smiled. If only she knew if the expression was real, but in this light, she couldn’t make out what was in his eyes.

Wivenly took her hand and bowed, kissing the tips of her fingers. “Eugénie, my dear, I think we have started badly.”

Well, that was the first thing he had said she agreed with, but what to do about it? “I believe you are correct, my lord.”

“Let us stroll.”

When she inclined her head, he held out his hand. She’d expected him to place her fingers on his arm, yet he wrapped his arm around her waist as they walked to the end of the veranda.

He leaned against the stone balustrade, turning her to face him. “The moon and stars are beautiful tonight.”

Polite conversation was a good way to begin. “Yes. I have frequently admired the view.”

“You are beautiful as well.” The back of his hand caressed her cheek and continued down her neck.

“Thank you. It is the first time I have worn colors since Papa died.” Tingling followed his fingers and she shuddered. How could she respond to him so easily when she wasn’t even sure she liked him that much?

Slowly, oh so slowly, he drew her to him. Her breath came in small pants as he traced the low neckline of her bodice with one finger.

She shouldn’t allow this, not if she wanted to make him realize she was serious about being treated well. Yet when she would have protested, her body responded to him, to his heat, and the memories of the other night.

Wivenly tilted her head up and his lips touched hers. Once again, she followed his movements, touching her tongue to his, slanting her head when he did. His hand cupped her breast and she moaned. She was in heaven.

“Who taught you how to kiss?” His voice was a low growl.

Eugénie didn’t understand. He ran his tongue over the outside of her ear. She must not have heard what she thought.

“Who else has touched you?” This time his voice was rough. “As your betrothed, I have a right to know.”

That, she could not mistake, but why would he think . . . ? “No one.”

“Someone showed you how to kiss,” he growled.

How dare he insinuate she was a not pure? She jerked back out of his arms. “
Imbécile. Stupide! You taught me
. No one else has ever touched me.”

Eugénie punched him on his shoulder as hard as she could before wrenching herself out of his arms. Glancing around, she saw Cicely at the other end of the terrace. Eugénie lifted her skirts and ran toward her friend. Tears blurred her eyes, and now she knew. He may lust after her, but he would never trust her, and without that there could be no love. What kind of life would she have with a man who would never care for her?

Will stared after Eugénie, her slippers barely making a sound as she left.
He
taught her? Impossible. She’d known what she was doing the first time he had kissed her. She’d tell him the truth one way or the other. Will let out a low roar as he started after her. Out of nowhere a fist slammed into his face, almost knocking him down. Where the devil had that come from? He whirled around, ready to fight back, when a blow to his jaw threw him off balance.

Andrew?

Will stumbled and fought to regain his footing. “What the hell was that for?”

“You’ll get another one if you don’t watch your language.” Andrew stood ready to go at Will again. “I thought you were going to behave. What did you do to upset Miss Villaret so much that
my betrothed
had to go after her?”

Will rubbed his chin. He’d need more ice. “I asked her who she’d been with before me.”

Andrew stared at him as if Will had lost his mind. “I never knew you could be such an addle-brained idiot.”

“It was clear she’d had experience.” Will wasn’t giving up yet. He had to be correct. “Since I’m marrying her, I have a right to know.”

“If we hadn’t been friends for so long,” Andrew said almost conversationally, “I’d pummel you to within an inch of your life.”

“I don’t know why you’re blaming me.”

Andrew started toward Will as if he’d strike him again, then stopped. “You dunderheaded clodpole. Miss Villaret had
never
been kissed,
never
been touched before you.”

“How would you know?” He didn’t believe it. The way she responded to him was too passionate to have been her first time.

“Miss Whitecliff confided in me because she was concerned you were a threat to her friend.”

“She must be . . .”

Andrew’s body tensed, and suddenly Will rejected the fleeting thought that Miss Whitecliff had lied to Andrew. As if a hot-air balloon had descended with a crash, his anger and self-righteous rage deserted him. He had enough sisters that he could imagine what their reactions would be if a man falsely accused them of dallying. All his breath left him as he finally admitted to himself, he’d wronged her this time in a way she might never forgive.

He raked his fingers through his hair. “Oh God, what have I done?”

“I don’t even know if you can repair the damage you’ve caused.” Andrew glanced back at a lit path for a moment before fixing Will with a glare. “What’s got into you? It’s not like you haven’t known enough women. Every time you’re around Miss Villaret, you”—he shook his head in disgust—“act like a buffle-headed clunch.”

Will scrubbed his hands over his face. What
was
happening to him? It was as if she made him lose his mind. Did his mother forget to tell him that madness ran in the family? “I don’t know. I’ve never met anyone like her. I can’t keep my hands off her. I’m envious of any man she even looks at, but I can’t seem to be at all civil to her. It’s not like me.”

“I can’t tell you what’s wrong either. I’ve never seen you lose your self-control where a woman was concerned.” Andrew’s mouth tightened. “You’ll have to learn how to treat her, or you’re going to have one hell of a marriage, if she’ll agree to marry you at all.”

Not marrying her was not a choice. If their families ever discovered what he’d done . . . Somehow Will had to make up with her, but his mind was completely blank. “I don’t know what to do.”

“How would you gain the good graces of another lady?”

Despite himself, Will smiled. “You mean a female I wanted to bed?”

His friend cast a glance toward the heavens. “If you have to think of it as bedding her, then yes. Provided, that is, you want to marry Eugénie.”

Oh, Will definitely
wanted
her in his bed, but he’d never thought in terms of
wanting
to marry. After he discovered her identity, he’d decided he
was required
to marry her. Yet even when he’d thought she’d been a bit free with her favors, he still
intended
to wed her. Getting in her good graces would be hard, considering he’d never been there in the first place.

He’d do what he always did when a lady was miffed. “I’ll start by sending her flowers.”

“Then do it. Lots of them.”

The only problem was, Eugénie was different. Will wasn’t quite sure how that was, but he sensed she would not respond like most women. “Do you think it will work with her? Perhaps I should talk—”

“No,” Andrew said in a tone that sounded suspiciously like an order. “You are not to go near her until she allows it.”

Will’s cravat tightened as sweat beaded his brow. That could be a long, long time. What if his aunt started asking questions? If only he could marry the vixen immediately and be done with it. Of course, even if he’d had the means to do that, he’d probably find a knife stuck in him. Something told him if Eugénie didn’t already carry a dagger, she would very soon, and she damned sure wouldn’t hesitate to use it on him.

The morning following the disaster with his betrothed, Will sent his groom to the flower market. As he was tying his neckcloth, Griff returned empty-handed.

This was not good. “Where are the flowers?”

Griff fiddled with his hat. “Ain’t got a market hereabouts.”

Will almost rolled his eyes. His groom wasn’t usually so dense. “Why didn’t you go to the florist?”

“Ain’t got one of them either.”

They must have something. Will ran a hand through his hair. What the deuce was going on? He’d seen a flower arrangement at the Whitecliffs’. “I need to find a bouquet.”

“Sorry, my lord. I looked all over town and didn’t see any at all.”

Damn and blast
. “Get your breakfast and meet me down at the warehouse. I’ll ask around.”

“Yes, my lord.” Griff bowed and left the bedchamber.

Will finished his cravat before strolling into the parlor, where he found Andrew already discussing a good portion of fruit. Will strolled to the sideboard and inspected the offerings. “There is apparently no flower market in town.”

Andrew glanced up with a smug expression. “That is what I was given to understand.”

Will paused in the process of selecting a baked egg. “Then where am I to find flowers for Miss Villaret?”

A grin split Andrew’s face. “You have to go to someone’s house and ask to be allowed to pick a bouquet from their garden.”

The egg slipped off the serving spoon Will held. “Ask a private person for flowers? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

Andrew nodded. “There is a woman in the Queen’s Quarter who raises roses and lilies, among other plants. I have her direction. You may go immediately after breakfast. I was told it is better to pick the blooms in the morning.”

Will retrieved the egg and took a piece of Dum bread stuffed with cheese. “I’ll send Griff.”

“You’ll go yourself,” Andrew said, “or you won’t have them at all. The woman is particular about who she sells them to.”

“Give me the directions.” Will heaved an exasperated sigh. Was nothing easy when it came to Eugénie? He finished his breakfast as Andrew explained how to find the residence. An hour later, after tromping up a hill, losing himself in the jumble of streets, and having to ask directions from an old man who gave Will a knowing look. Half-way up the hill called Queen’s Quarter he finally knocked on the door of a house quite a bit smaller than his aunt’s but not as tiny as others he’d seen. It appeared to have only one floor as opposed to the multiple levels of the Wivenly and Whitecliff houses. Eugénie had better forgive him after making him go through all of this.

An older woman answered the door and Will handed her his card. “Good morning, ma’am. I am Lord Wivenly. I was advised you might be willing to sell me a bouquet of flowers.”

“I might.” She rubbed her finger over the raised letters on the card. “What do you need them for?”

He resisted the urge to run a finger under his collar. “My betrothed and I had a slight disagreement, and I thought to sweeten her.”

The lady held the door open. “I’m Mrs. Rordan. What is the name of your betrothed?”

“Miss Villaret de Joyeuse.”

“Eugénie? I didn’t know she’d got engaged.” The old woman squinted her eyes and stared at Will. “You must be related to her step-father, but I don’t see much of a resemblance.”

“Um, no. My great-uncle took after his mother’s side of the family.”

Mrs. Rordan nodded. “Well, if you managed to get Eugénie’s back up, you’ll need something nice.”

Managed to distress her? When was she not upset?

The lady turned and started shuffling down a corridor. “Don’t just stand there, young fellow. Follow me.”

Will stepped in and closed the front door. “Yes, ma’am.”

She led him out the back door to a sloped garden filled with flowers.

“I don’t know what you did to get yourself into trouble. Seems like most young men are worthless fribbles when it comes to women, but I’ll try to help you out.” Mrs. Rordan grabbed what looked like curved scissors from a basket. “I’ve known Eugénie since she was a child, and if anyone deserves to be happy, she does.”

Will nodded and followed the older woman around the garden. By the end of an hour, she had cut several flowers and a vine with small white blooms, and he had learned more about the island, such as where he could find the best fans and handkerchiefs and that the reason for the tension between the Danish and English populations was England’s law prohibiting the slave trade.

He also discovered more about his betrothed. He’d not known, for example, how much time she spent with the missionaries, teaching the slave children to read and do their figures. Unfortunately, none of what he learned would help him out of the hole he’d dug for himself.

Mrs. Rordan pointed to the lily. “This will tell her you’re sorry.” She wrapped string around the stems and trimmed the ends. “Here you go. I don’t want to see you back here until you need flowers for the wedding.”

He held out a purse to Mrs. Rordan, which she refused. “Use your money to buy a ring.”

That’s what he’d forgotten. “Thank you.” He held his arm out and escorted her back into the house. “I shall give your regards to my Miss Villaret.”

“You’ll give her my love and tell her I look forward to seeing her on Sunday.”

“I’ll do that.” He bowed. “A pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Rordan.”

“Harrumph. Go now before they wilt.”

As Will turned, the door closed behind him. It occurred to him that other than the small pieces of information Mrs. Rordan let drop, and the fact that Eugénie was an innocent who kissed like a wanton, and had a temper, which seemed to be reserved solely for him, he really didn’t know much about his betrothed at all. Though she was becoming more and more intriguing. Who was this woman he planned to marry?