Miss Hillary Schools a Scoundrel (15 page)

Lana forced each bite of roast beef down her constricted throat. Drew’s scrutiny made her uncomfortable. It was as if he followed her every movement. To battle the riotous beating of her heart, she drained her glass of wine. Drew refilled her goblet the moment it touched the tablecloth, earning a suspicious glower from her. Yet, halfway through the second glass, waves of warmth washed over her and her nerves dissipated some.

Several minutes later, Phoebe groaned as she struggled to her feet with the assistance of her husband. “Lana, please forgive me, but I must retire early.”

Lana swallowed against her rising panic. “Oh, of course. I’ll be all right.”

Drew placed his arm on the back of Lana’s chair. “I will see that she makes it safely to her room.” A seductive glint in his sea blue eyes made Lana’s stomach flip.

“I-I might retire early as well,” she said.

“An even better idea,” Drew murmured where only she could hear.

“See that you do get her back safely, Drew,” Phoebe said. “It’s horrifying to consider what might have happened the other night.”

Drew met Lana’s gaze and his eyebrows shot upward. “What does she mean? What happened the other night?”

Lana cringed. If Phoebe weren’t pregnant, she might tackle her to the ground and cover her mouth. Lana stole a look at Drew and found his lips had settled into a firm line.

Phoebe’s hands landed on her hips. “Lana was accosted in the gardens the night you and… She and you… Well… She did tell you about the incident, did she not?”

“Come, love. Miss Hillary can apprise Drew of the details.” As Lord Richard led his wife from the private dining room, Lana considered making a dash for the door.

When they were alone, Drew’s eyes bore into her. “What details, peach? Someone accosted you after I left the gardens?”

Lana fidgeted with the napkin lying across her lap. “Likely a thief after my jewelry. I managed to get away. Truly, it’s of no consequence.”

“Allow me to judge the seriousness. Tell me what happened.”

Her hands trembled, and she breathed deeply to slow her racing pulse as memories of that night threatened to overwhelm her. “A man… He appeared out of the fog. I thought he was you at first, but his speech… I knew I was mistaken. He was vulgar and threatened to—”

Drew leaned forward, a dangerously dark look transforming him. She had only known Drew to be the jovial sort, and his graveness disconcerted her. “Did he hurt you?”

Lana’s fork clattered against the plate as she set it down. “No. I ran into the maze and escaped him.”

“And you never thought to mention this to me? He followed you to the carriage?”

“I tried to tell you, but then—” She choked back tears.

“Come here, Lana.” Drew lifted and settled her on his lap. Her limbs flopped ineffectively as if her entire backbone had turned to mush. She couldn’t have stopped Drew if she wanted. To have him holding her in his protective embrace, cradling her body against his chest, released a myriad of emotions. Tears filled her eyes, making everything blur together. Finally, Lana allowed herself the luxury of letting go, surrendering to her vulnerability.

Drew rocked her back and forth. “There, there, my sweet. You are safe.”

His tender voice and soft caresses rent soul-wrenching sobs from her. She cried until she couldn’t shed another tear while Drew continued his gentle ministrations.

When her sobs subsided, he kissed her cheeks where they were still wet. “No one will ever hurt you again, peach,” he promised. “You’re no longer in danger.”

Lana disagreed. She was in dire danger, because she had fallen hopelessly in love with Andrew Forest.

***

Drew escorted Lana to her room. He desired her as a man addled by opium craved his drug. He needed her, and he
could
have her. She hadn’t pushed him away when he’d gathered her to his chest in the private dining room. She hadn’t protested as he had walked her to the room. She hadn’t barred him from her room even though his presence in her private lodgings was highly improper.

Yet, even with the bed in his line of sight, Drew couldn’t take advantage of Lana’s vulnerability. When he made love to her next, she would be an active participant in the decision.

He couldn’t resist kissing her, however. He wasn’t a damned saint. Cupping her head, he urged her to meet his lips. Lana’s rosebud mouth tasted as sweet as ever, like fruit and minted tea. She returned his kisses, leaning into him and brushing against his shaft.

He stifled the moan ready to escape his lips. Leaning his forehead against hers, Drew called upon every ounce of his willpower. If he didn’t leave soon, he would toss her on the bed and do all kinds of inappropriate things.

“Until next time, Lana,” he whispered. Drew broke contact and moved toward the door.

“You’re leaving?”

He glanced over his shoulder to discover Lana wide-eyed with disbelief. Perhaps her emerald eyes even held a hint of relief. “Not for good, peach. You won’t rid yourself of me that easily.”

***

Lana bristled when the traveling party arrived at the inn for the last night of their journey. It had been three days since Drew had treated her with anything other than polite respect. No flirting, no subtle innuendos, and no more marriage offers. One would think she was his blasted sister for all the interest he showed now. And to think, Lana had considered accepting his proposal.

The driving force behind her decision may have been the possibility of carrying Drew’s child, but after he had exhibited such compassion when she told him of the thief in the garden… Well, it hardly mattered
now
that her stance on his suitability as a husband had wavered.

Lana rubbed her forehead to ease the pounding behind her eyes. Oh, what cause did she have to complain? Drew had remained a perfect gentleman. He had stood in her room three strides from her bed, and he hadn’t attempted to seduce her.

She marched into the White Stag with Drew on her heels. Throwing an angry look over her shoulder, Lana didn’t notice Phoebe had stopped and nearly plowed into her.

“Are you all right, Miss Hillary?” Drew reached out to steady Lana.

Miss
Hillary?
Tension spread from her shoulders up her neck and into her jaws as she clenched her teeth. Again, he behaved as a perfect gentleman. And
that
was the blasted problem. He had become the proper gentleman she’d sought all along, except, drat it, she liked the scoundrel he had been and mistrusted his newly acquired manners. Obviously, he no longer fancied her, so he hid behind detached politeness. He probably couldn’t wait until their arrival in London so he could return to his whoring ways.

Lana jerked her head around to glower once more, but he seemed oblivious as he searched the interior of the room. His entire face lit as his sight landed on something across the tavern. She turned to seek the object of his attention and almost cried out in agony.

Across the room, with arms laden, stood the most voluptuous woman she had ever seen. As the barmaid leaned over to place drinks in front of the patrons, her unbound breasts jiggled, drawing the hedonistic interest of every man at the table. A quick glance at Drew revealed he wasn’t immune to her charms either. A sensual smile spread across his lips.

As the woman’s head lifted, she spotted him. “Lord Andrew.” Sparing Lana a fleeting glance, the barmaid returned her full notice to Drew as she approached. The erotic sway of her hips had Lana fidgeting and burning red hot. She spun around and stomped away before she overheard whatever salacious arrangements they were surely making.

“Our chambers have been prepared,” Phoebe announced as she joined her. “Is everything all right? You look flush.”

Lana nodded curtly. “I’m ready for rest is all. I think I will retire to my room until dinner.”

It was taking forever for her companions to move toward the stairwell. Lana shifted her weight from foot to foot and kept her eyes trained on the stairs rather than ogle Drew and that
harlot
. As she reached the stairs, she involuntarily glanced over her shoulder and clamped her lips together.

The woman leaned close to Drew with her hand lightly resting on his chest. Her head tilted to the side as a seductive smile spread across her full lips. Lana marched the rest of the way up the stairs and fought the urge to slam the door to her room.

Drew watched Lana stomp up the stairs, his eyes glued to her perfectly formed derriere. If he played his cards right, he would get his fill of her gorgeous body tonight.

“Lord Andrew, you are bad,” Ann admonished with a laugh. All flirtations ceased. “The poor girl doesn’t stand a chance.”

He smiled broadly at the barmaid. “I see you received my message. Thanks for playing along.”

Ann moved to a vacant table and swiped it with a wet cloth before offering him a seat. “If I were not happily married, I wouldn’t dare play with fire. I prefer to avoid a serious burn.”

Drew smiled warmly at the woman. “How is the lucky bugger?”

“He’s as wonderful as ever.” Ann lowered her voice, stealing glances toward the kitchen. “Marcy’s upset you are traveling with a woman.”

Marcy?
He tried to conjure a face to go with the name but failed.

“She won’t cause any trouble, my lord.” Ann slid into the chair closest to him. “Are you going to reveal the reason you need my assistance in persuading the lady? I see you have lost none of your former allure.”

Drew shrugged. Although he appreciated Ann’s assistance, he saw no need to divulge details of his relationship with Lana, not that they had a relationship to discuss. The morning after he had comforted her—fighting the urge to bed her, he might add—she had greeted him as she would a stranger. Lana resisted his attempts to melt her icy exterior, and after a couple of days of rejection, he’d had enough. Drew never begged women for attention, and he wouldn’t beg Lana Hillary.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t walk away from her either. She held some unseen power over him, and he wanted her as he had never wanted anyone or anything. And not just in his bed. He wanted Lana sharing his table at mealtimes. He wanted her riding beside him in the park. He wanted her involved in every aspect of his life. Yet, to make that happen, he needed to burst through the wall of indifference she had erected, because she cared for him whether she wished to admit it or not.

His plan to force Lana into facing her feelings was risky, but hopefully his scheme would reap rewards. Making her jealous didn’t settle well with his conscience, but Drew had run out of ideas. They would reach London on the morrow, and his chances of success would plummet once she was under her brother’s protection again. Jake Hillary wouldn’t allow him anywhere near her.

“Will you be around for dinner?” he asked the barmaid.

Ann stood. “I don’t believe you will need additional help judging from the look on the lady’s face. I best return to work. Good luck with your endeavor. She is a lovely young woman.”

Drew grabbed the barmaid’s hand and discreetly pressed a coin into it. “Thanks, Ann.”

She frowned and opened her palm to gape at it. “I’ve never made a living as a trollop, Lord Andrew, and I do not intend to start.”

Heat rose up his neck to the tips of his ears. “I don’t wish to insult you, Ann. Would you please accept it as payment for retrieving an ale for me?”

She stared for a moment, then sighed and replaced her injured expression with one of friendliness. “Of course, my lord.”

Later that evening Drew took extra care with his appearance before speeding downstairs in anticipation of being late for dinner. But when he burst into the private dining room, the space was empty. Where the hell was everyone? He dropped onto one of the spindle chairs and tapped his fingers against the wooden slat table.

He ordered a carafe of wine and waited some more. A shuffle at the doorway drew his notice and he whipped around in his eagerness to see Lana.

He frowned at his brother and sister-in-law. “Where’s Miss Hillary?”

Phoebe trudged into the dining room, her womb seeming to have expanded exponentially in the last day. Her sallow complexion set off warning signals. For the first time, Drew worried she might deliver his brother’s child while on the journey. Rich should have kept her at Shafer Hall as planned rather than dragging her to Town.

“Are you well, Phoebe?”

“I’m first rate, Drew. And you?” Her smile was weary, but the spark in her eye reassured him a little.

“You will make it to Town before the baby comes, won’t you?”

Rich assisted as she lowered into a chair. “If the Virgin Mary could travel to Bethlehem and give birth in a stable, I can surely travel in luxury to deliver my child in my own bed. Both of you, stop fretting. I have a few weeks to go.” Phoebe snatched her napkin, shook it out, and laid it across her lap. “For heaven’s sake, you men act as if birthing has never been done. Yet, you both stand here.”

Drew chuckled. If her spit and fire were any indications, she was quite well, albeit ill tempered. “Splendid. Then I apologize for inquiring. Where did you say Miss Hillary is this evening?”

Rich assumed the spot next to his wife. “She has chosen to take her meal in her room.”

Drew scowled and sipped his wine. “Our last meal together, and she chooses to barricade herself in her room.”

Phoebe shot a dirty look in his direction. “Can’t say I blame her after your little performance with the barmaid.”

“Pardon?” His tone of voice spoke of his offense. Of all people, he wouldn’t expect Phoebe to judge him.

Rich shook his head slightly, pleading with his eyes for Drew to be quiet.

Her jaw set firmly. “
Pardon?
Was I unclear, Drew? You have ruined the poor girl and now you flaunt your dalliances. I am beyond put out with you. You deeply disappoint me.”

Drew flinched. His mouth opened and closed several times. He hadn’t meant for it to seem he had tossed Lana aside. He only wanted her to own up to loving him as he loved her. He had to repair things, and quickly.

He shoved from the table. The chair legs screeched along the floor in protest. “I think I’ll retire early,” he announced and bounded from his seat.

“Wait a moment, Drew.”

He ignored his brother’s call and hastened to the tavern to find Ann. She regarded him warily as he closed the distance in a few strides.

“One more favor, love.”

“Yes, my lord?”

“Miss Hillary is taking her meal in her room. I want to make the delivery.”