JORDAN Nicole (13 page)

“I assure you, I do not. I have absolutely no desire to marry you—orto become your mistress,” she added, amusement dancing in her eyes.

He couldn’t help but grin. “Your adamant rejection that night was rather insulting to my vanity.”

Her laugh was soft and light. “I doubt your vanity suffered too greatly. You expected me to leap at your offer, I know, but my refusal was no reflection on your qualifications as a potential patron.”

Bemused, Drew watched as she raised her glass to her lips to drink. He wasn’t sure at what point he had let himself be charmed by Roslyn Loring, but he was—intensely. Despite his determination, he found himself enchanted by her warm character and lively wit.

Her eyes were still warm, he noted, but her gaze turned thoughtful as she contemplated him over the rim of her glass. “Perhaps we could simply be friends. My sister is married to Marcus now, so we may be seeing more of each other in the future. And I don’t wish there to be any awkwardness between us.” An elegant dimple flashed in her cheek. “You can treat me as you do Eleanor, as a younger sister.”

He couldn’t possibly think of this woman as his sister, Drew reflected. Not after kissing her the way he had, after tasting her delectable body the way he had. Not with the powerful lust he still felt for her.

And yet he was surprised to find that he could relax in her company. Perhaps it was because she didn’t toady to him as most everyone else did. Or perhaps he was just no longer concerned that she might try to trap him in marriage.

“Friends it is,” he said, raising his glass in salute.

They both drank to the agreement, before Drew settled in a wing chair across from her. “So tell me about your husband-hunting plans. You mean to assist Haviland with his ball next week?”

“Yes,” Roslyn answered. “Before my mother left us, she taught me a good deal about running a genteel household and hosting social entertainments. I believe I can help his lordship make his ball a success.”

“And after that?”

“I’m not certain, but I will need to decide soon, since Haviland plans to remain here at his country villa for only a week or so after the ball to hold a houseparty for his relatives. Fanny promised to advise me, but I’ve had no time to give it much consideration with all the preparations for the wedding.” Roslyn cocked her head, her eyes still glimmering with laughter. “To be truthful, Fanny suggested that I ask you to instruct me. I think she was jesting, but the idea has merit.”

“Instruct you on what?” Drew asked warily.

“On the tricks a mistress uses to make her protector enamored of her.”

He nearly choked on his wine. “That is hardly a topic for a proper young lady to be discussing with a gentleman,” Drew rasped.

Roslyn laughed again. “Now who is being missish, your grace? I think we have already gone well beyond the bounds of propriety, don’t you? A little further won’t hurt.”

“You are actually serious.”

“Yes, of course. It is brazen of me, I know, but I have a great deal at stake, so it would behoove me to use any resources I can find. You are an acknowledged expert in mistresses, so I should like to hear your views on the subject.”

Drew frowned. “I doubt my views could help you.”

“Will you allow me to be the judge of that?”

He stared at her a long moment before giving in. “What do you want to know?”

“To begin with, why do you even employ a mistress?”

“For the usual reasons. Entertainment, companionship, pleasure.”

“So what makes you choose one over the other? What qualities do you look for? I suppose beauty is a chief requirement?”

Drew gave the question some thought, trying to remember his criteria for his last inamorata. “Beauty is desirable, but I mainly want one who is undemanding.”

“Who isn’t possessive? Fanny said that was what made you give up your last mistress.” When his eyebrow shot up, Roslyn smiled. “I am not asking to know the intimate details of your affairs. My question is purely academic—so I won’t make the same mistake with Lord Haviland. What else appeals to you in a mistress?”

She wasn’t going to relent, Drew realized. With mingled feelings of admiration and resignation, he settled back and stretched his long legs out in front of him. “I want one with enough wit to carry on an intelligent conversation. And, of course, she must be skilled at lovemaking.”

That last qualification made Roslyn blush, but she pressed on. “Yet there must be more to making a man become enamored. According to Fanny, a good mistress knows how to drive her protector a little wild and even enslave him.”

“And you want to enslave Haviland.”

“I don’t wish to gothat far with the earl, merely rouse his ardor. I think you could advise me on how to achieve it.”

Drew found himself unable to stifle his amusement. “You truly are unique, Miss Loring.”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “I doubt you mean that as a compliment, but no matter. I don’t mind that you have a low opinion of me, as long as you are willing to help me.”

He didn’t have a low opinion of her in the least. On the contrary, he was intrigued by her, even fascinated. He also liked that she was so refreshingly honest. But that didn’t mean he wanted to have anything to do with helping her snare Haviland for her husband.

When he hesitated, she made atsk ing sound. “I think you must be afraid of me.”

“Afraid of you?”

“Yes. You are still concerned about compromising me. But I told you, you needn’t worry. I wouldn’t marry you under any circumstances.”

“I am not afraid of you, darling.”

“Then you should have no objection to teaching me what I need to know. You are reputed to be a magnificent lover. I would think you would want to prove it.”

His body’s response to her lighthearted words was quick and intense: His loins abruptly tightened.

“Are you challenging me, Beauty?”

“I believe I am.”

Her musical laughter rippled through him. Drew stiffened, not liking the way arousal made itself felt in his groin.

When he didn’t automatically take up her challenge, she took another tack. “Don’t you realize it is in your self-interest for me to attach Lord Haviland?”

“How do you conclude that?”

“So Lady Freemantle will cease hounding you. As long as you stay here, she will keep pushing us together. But we can foil her efforts if I acquire Haviland as a suitor. She won’t want to spoil my chances with him if he is truly courting me.”

Roslyn’s disarming smile affected Drew more than he cared to admit. She was intent on getting her own way with charm, much like Marcus’s minx of a sister. He could see Eleanor making such an outrageous request of him.

“You want me to tutor you in how to captivate Haviland so he will be eager to court you?”

“Yes, and so I can make him fall in love with me. I would be very grateful. And you would be doing Marcus a favor. He would be pleased if I could secure the earl for my husband. Marcus wanted to marry us off to perfect strangers, you know, when he first assumed our guardianship.”

Drew shook his head in wry disbelief. “I must be daft to even consider it.”

“But you want to,” she pressed.

He couldn’t respond with a denial. He had to admit he sympathized with her situation. Roslyn hadn’t deserved the difficulties she’d faced for the past four years. And it was certainly true that Marcus wanted to see her wed so he could cease worrying about her.

“I will have to give it some thought,” Drew said at last. “I am no authority on feminine arts of seduction.”

“But you know what appeals to you…how a woman could captivateyour interest.”

I know howyoucould captivate my interest, Drew reflected silently. Judging from her wide-eyed innocent look, though, Roslyn had no idea how lascivious his thoughts were just now. How he wanted to lay her down and remove her gown very slowly, kissing each luscious creamy inch of her body….

Drew shook himself, focusing on her request. His mouth curled sardonically as he debated. He recognized the irony of helping a scheming debutante lure a man to his matrimonial doom when he himself had always been so set against marriage. Yet it was a novel prospect, teaching a proper young lady to be an ideal mistress. Besides, if he had to remain in Chiswick to keep an eye on the Loring sisters because a highwayman was menacing the district, instructing Roslyn would make the time pass faster.

He had no intention of going beyond the bounds of real propriety, of course, for in all honor, he couldn’t compromise the ward of his best friend without unwanted consequences.

To his surprise and amusement Drew found himself nodding. “Very well, I will give it a shot.”

Roslyn offered him a brilliant smile that made him blink with its sheer beauty. “Thankyou, your grace. I think I can manage to sleep now.”

I am glad one of us can,Drew thought dryly. The image of Roslyn sleeping—her lovely body nude, her hair streaming across a satin pillow—played havoc with his loins.

His gaze settled on her ripe, tempting mouth, and his pulse quickened further as he fought the fierce urge to kiss her. There was a rational explanation for the rapid beating of his heart, for why this woman set his blood racing. It was pure lust of course.

The affliction would pass, he was certain.

Yet his fingers itched to free her golden hair from the confines of its elegant coiffure, to free her body from the confines of her stylish ballgown. He could picture taking her right here on the brocade couch, could imagine her coming alive in his arms, all yearning hunger. The thought of being inside her, that first thrust, made his groin ache. He wanted to bury himself in all that unawakened fire….

The erotic image shattered when Roslyn set her glass down on a side table and rose to her feet. “Good night, your grace. I will see you in the morning when you confer with Winifred’s bailiff.”

Drew rose politely as well and bowed, ignoring the frustrating ache in his loins. “Good night, Miss Loring.”

He watched as she turned away, his gaze drawn to the graceful sway of her hips as she left the parlor.

Blowing out a slow breath then, Drew ran a hand roughly through his hair. He couldn’t believe he had actually agreed to give her lessons in how to arouse a gentleman’s ardor. Especially when she presented such a powerful temptation tohim .

But he could manage it, Drew told himself. He would be charming, distantly polite, even friendly.

Even so, he knew that keeping his hands off Roslyn would prove to be a severe exercise in self-control.

Chapter Six

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The art of flirtation is more difficult to master than I expected.

—Roslyn to Fanny

Roslyn rose early the next morning, eager to set in motion the search for the highwayman. To her surprise she found the duke already up before her, meeting in the study with the Freemantle bailiff.

Mr. Hickling expressed alarm at the danger she and her ladyship had faced during the holdup, but Roslyn assured him they hadn’t suffered any lasting damage. When she described the place where the coach had been waylaid, he recognized it at once, since it was close to the farm belonging to his eldest son. Hickling took his leave shortly, promising to conduct a thorough search of the area.

When he was gone, Roslyn surveyed the duke. He hadn’t yet shaved, so his jaw was shadowed by stubble, making his lean, aristocratic features look a trifle rugged. Yet he still managed to give the appearance of lithe elegance. Except for missing a cravat, he wore the same formal attire as he’d worn to the wedding, probably because the late Sir Rupert Freemantle was smaller of shoulder and much larger of girth.

Roslyn herself had changed into a modest muslin round gown. She felt Arden’s perceptive gaze survey her in turn.

“Did you have trouble sleeping?” he asked, his tone sympathetic.

“A little. I kept seeing that pistol pointed at us every time I closed my eyes.”

“The dark images will pass eventually.”

“You sound as if you speak from experience.”

“I do.” Arden glanced at the ormolu clock on the mantel. “I didn’t expect you to rise so early.”

“Nor I you, your grace.”

Amusement flickered in his eyes. “No doubt you presumed I would laze abed till noon.”

“Many noblemen of your stamp would.”

“You have a rather low opinion of me, don’t you, darling?”

Roslyn laughed. “You are improving upon better acquaintance, I must say.”

Arden grinned. “Considering where I started, I should be gratified.”

Pointon appeared at the study door just then to announce that breakfast awaited them. When they moved to the breakfast parlor, Winifred was already seated at the table, her plate piled high from an array of dishes on the sideboard. Evidently her hearty appetite had remained unaffected by the previous night’s traumatic events, Roslyn noted.

When she inquired how Winifred was faring, her ladyship smiled. “Well enough, my dear. But I am so very grateful to the duke for electing to remain with us for a few days.” She favored Arden with an even brighter smile while Pointon served her guests coffee. “It is comforting to know that you will be here to protect us from a vicious highwayman, your grace. Although we are less than an hour’s drive from London and close enough that you could return home each night, it will be more convenient if you billet here at Freemantle Park. And of course,” Winifred added, “you cannot stay at Danvers Hall while the new earl is gone, since Roslyn and Lily will be unchaperoned. Pointon will send to London for fresh clothing for you.”

“I have already made arrangements, my lady,” Arden replied mildly, apparently prepared to put up with her overbearing supervision.

Winifred proceeded to chatter on about how splendid the wedding had been, as if she was determined to forget the holdup had ever happened. Since Roslyn was of the same mind, the conversation remained light all through breakfast.

When her ladyship had exhausted the topic of nuptials, she proceeded to question the duke about his interest in governing the nation, but Arden replied that most of his work was done for now. Parliament had adjourned for the summer, and many of the noblemen in the House of Lords had left the heat of London for their family estates.