Miss Mischief - A Regency Romance (24 page)

‘Oh fiddle!’

Having nerved herself to do what she must, she hurried from the room, resolute in her determination to hunt down her quarry. He was leaving anyway so it hardly mattered what he thought of her, did it? She would force him to accompany her, shut the door and fling herself on him and to the devil with the consequences.

As it happened, getting him into the room was easier than she had anticipated. Upon reemerging into the ballroom, she encountered him almost immediately. Apparently, he had also been looking for her.

‘There you are,’ he said, skillfully blocking several young men who were making a beeline for her. ‘I was wondering where you’d disappeared to.’

She glanced at the two gentlemen who were determined to win the next dance. Mr. Warrington (expected) and Mr. Finch-Hatton (who should not be looking so eager, considering he had just been wed). ‘May I talk privately to you for a moment, my lord?’

He, too, glanced at the gentlemen. He held out a hand. ‘Shall we dance?’

‘That is hardly private.’

‘But it is a little less shocking than the two of us disappearing at a public dance,’ he pointed out dryly.

Drat! He had a point. She let herself be swept onto the dance floor, wondering how she was supposed to get him to herself under the scrutiny of so many people. It wasn’t even the kind of dance in which one could hold a conversation, for a quadrille changed partners far too frequently to exchange anything meaningful. After the dance, however, he steered her towards the buffet, choosing his moment to step into the relative quiet beyond one of the double doors leading onto the adjoining room. It was all Johanna needed. Taking his hand, she hurriedly led the way to the room she had discovered, which was still, mercifully, empty. Johanna closed the door and turned to face him.

He arched an eyebrow. ‘This is not a good idea, Miss Claybourn.’

‘It might not be a good idea,’ she acknowledged a little breathlessly. ‘But it is a necessary one. Lord Hathaway, I must ask you something very… very personal.’

He immediately looked wary. ‘Must you?’

‘Indeed. You may think me very forward -’

‘I am sure I shall.’

‘ – but as you are so determined to depart Yorkshire I feel I have nothing to lose.’

‘You are very dramatic, Miss Claybourn,’ he murmured, but he was still eyeing her warily.

‘Perhaps.’ She drew a deep breath. ‘My lord, do you like me?’

A few moments of silence ensued, then, ‘Of course I like you. You are a charming girl.’

‘That is not what I asked and I think you know it. What I mean is, do you
like
me? As in…’ she paused, suddenly awkward.

‘I know what you mean,’ he said quietly. ‘Whatever my feelings for you, Miss Claybourn, I can assure you they mean little. I am not after a wife right now and anything else would be inappropriate.’ He hesitated, as if searching for the right words. ‘Besides, I think I have already told you that I am not after an heiress and you, my dear girl, are very much an heiress.’

Johanna stared at him thoughtfully. He had certainly told her as much but it didn’t mean she had to heed it. ‘My Grandma says that the only certainties in life are death and the hereafter.’

‘Your grandmother is an admirable woman but I am certain that I know my own mind,’ he replied firmly. ‘And now, Miss Claybourn -’

Impulse and desperation impelled Johanna forward. She was inexperienced in the art of kissing gentlemen but she knew the mechanics of it well enough and really, there wasn’t a great deal to it. Reaching up, she grasped his face and pulled his head down to her own, pressing her lips firmly against his. For a moment, nothing happened. He stood as stiff and rigid beneath her touch as a statue. Her heart sank at the thought of impending failure.

He is not going to kiss me back. Oh good heavens, this is going to be so embarrassing!

But then the statue broke beneath her eager mouth.

His arms went around her and pulled her firmly against his body while his lips came to life beneath her own. The pressure of the kiss increased and she would have gasped if she had the breath to do so, her body catching fire beneath the onslaught. She was aware of everything at once; the strong hands that were hard and warm through the thin fabric of her dress, the rigid muscles in the arms that encircled her. But most of all, she was profoundly, blissfully aware of his mouth as it explored her own.

He was awfully good at it. After that first, forceful moment his lips gentled and became sweetly persuasive and she found herself opening her own beneath some mystical, silent request. It was more instinct than understanding for she was in uncharted territory now but the effect was magical, her body suddenly humming, as if every nerve end had been tickled into life. When his tongue delicately teased her own she clung onto him even more tightly for her knees were suddenly weak and she knew she dare not let go.

She had discovered bliss.

It took some time for him to release her and when he did she was gratified to see that he appeared as shaken as she felt. His blue eyes were dark with emotion and he was breathing quickly. He took a hasty step backwards.

‘God God!’ he muttered, then, ‘I am… Miss Claybourn, I am extremely sorry. I should not have done anything so… so…’ Words seemed to fail him.

‘You didn’t,’ she pointed out. ‘I did. And I can’t say I regret it. In fact, I would very much like to try that again.’ She took a step towards him but he held up a hand quickly.

‘No! Just… stay there. There is no need to compound our folly. And believe me when I say, it is not your fault. You are inexperienced and did not know what you were about whereas I am supposed to be a gentleman.’ He grimaced a little on the last word. ‘Who is behaving in a very ungentlemanly manner!’

‘Don’t be foolish,’ she begged. ‘I wanted to kiss you. For heaven’s sake, my lord, I flung myself at you. I have wanted you to kiss me for several days and have had the dev – I mean, the most tedious time trying to think of how I might bring it about.’

He gave her a stern look. ‘I think I have already pointed out that you are a minx. But never mind. It does not change the fact that I should not have done what I did.’

‘But why?’ she demanded. ‘I am not expecting you to make me an offer.’ Well, she wasn’t expecting it yet. It might take a little longer to bring him around to that. ‘But I cannot see why something as small as a kiss should send you scurrying away.’

‘It was unforgivable,’ he insisted. ‘I took advantage.’

‘I forgive you,’ she said promptly. ‘And it is I who am taking advantage. Well, trying to, anyway. Truly, I have worked very hard to have you stay at Cloverton Hall. Whilst I appreciate your help with Mordern, it’s not as if I could not have managed him without your help. Grandma said -’

She broke off when she saw the growing frown that was gathering on his brow. ‘Excuse me?’

She hesitated, but really, he had to see her point of view. ‘I could manage Mordern. I had been doing so for a week, after all. Not that your participation was not welcome,’ she added hastily. ‘It was, very. But when I was discussing the matter with Grandma -’

‘You discussed Mordern with your grandmother?’

‘No, no. I discussed you and how you wished to leave and how I wished that you would not and… well, you can quite see how the whole kissing thing isn’t your fault, now can’t you?’

‘So for the past three days,’ he said slowly, ‘you have been thinking of ways to keep me here?’

‘Well… yes,’ she admitted. ‘I have, rather.’ She didn’t think she’d mention the laudanum she’d put in his coffee.

‘And you engaged the assistance of your grandmother and your father?’

‘Not Papa. I merely had to suggest that he did not look quite the thing this evening…’

A sudden thought seem to strike him. ‘I slept remarkably well last night!’

Drat! She had hoped he would not think of how early he’d been forced to retire to bed. Caution suddenly seemed to be the order of the day. ‘Indeed, Sir?’

‘You gave me something, didn’t you?’ There was no gainsaying the fact that he had drawn certain conclusions and wasn’t happy with the result.

She moistened her lips and wondered what the devil she was supposed to say now.

Chapter Eight

‘Miss Claybourn,’ he said, speaking through his teeth, ‘I do believe you gave me laudanum last night so I would not escape you this morning.’

Johanna opened her eyes very wide. ‘I wouldn’t exactly put it like
that
.’

‘No? How would you put it?’

‘Well perhaps I did happen to give you something. But it’s not as if you have not been invaluable to me in the past few days. We both know that Mordern was making unwelcome advances. I was in a very uncomfortable situation,’ she protested, wishing he would stop looking so grim. She was not used to seeing him look grim. Was it so bad that she had told a tiny little lie? Well, two or three, if the truth be known for her grandmother had not taken a turn and her father was not in the least bit unwell. But she had been desperate to keep him there and if she had not done so they would not have… well, he would not have kissed her. Even
he
could not think that kiss had been inconsequential. It had been anything but! The memory of it was still burned on her lips while the flush of pleasure he had created within her so effortlessly continued to suffuse her body, a slow burning heat that made her desperate for him to kiss her again. She
knew
he had felt the same way. Surely he could not pretend the kiss they had shared had been anything other than miraculous? She felt transformed; transmuted into a creature quite different from the one that had stepped into the room. How could he not feel the same way?

He certainly felt some strong emotion for those firm, elegant lips were pressed together a little too tightly. ‘You took advantage of me,’ he pointed out coldly. ‘And I very much dislike being lied to.’

She bit her lip. ‘But what else was I to do? You were determined to go and I did not want you to.’

‘And that’s precisely the issue, isn’t it?’ he said, voice flat. She hated to hear that note in his voice. It suggested that she had gone too far, that she had disappointed him too greatly to be forgiven. ‘You want something and you do anything in your power to get it, no matter what. I thought that those people out there were being damned unkind with their attitude but perhaps they have it right after all. Miss Johanna Claybourn really is a spoilt little miss.’

She blinked, stung by his words. ‘That’s not fair! I… I didn’t mean any harm. But you were so determined to go -’

‘Exactly. And yet you determined to keep me there, no matter what,’ he snapped, scowling. ‘Tell me, Miss Claybourn. Are there any lengths you would not go to, in order to have your own way?’

‘Of course not.’ She flushed. ‘I did need your help.’

‘And I gave it,’ he said. ‘Having rendered my assistance, our business is now concluded. I will escort you back to your home when you are ready. Do,’ he added sardonically, ‘take your time. I would hate to spoil your fun.’

Johanna stared at him with in consternation. ‘I am sorry,’ she said uncertainly. ‘But… well really, did you not enjoy kissing me?’

He stared at her and for a moment she thought he might take a step back towards her, might soften a little. But then his expression changed, became even more remote. ‘Your behavior is outrageous. I hope to God you don’t carry on in such a hoydenish way in London or you will be sent back to Yorkshire in disgrace, my girl.’

She bit her lip. None of this was going the way she had anticipated at all. Why on earth should he be so angry about her silly deception? It had been harmless enough and he had not seemed to have too dreadful a time. Indeed, he had seemed to enjoy himself, staying with her family and yet here he was, acting as if she had cut him to the quick, compromised his honor.
Seduced
him.

‘I will go and fetch my cloak,’ she said, trying not to sound as if she might cry. She felt very much like crying.

‘I told you; there is no need to hurry.’

‘No. I… I wish to go home now.’ She wished to go home, to run up to her bedchamber and close the door and slip beneath the covers. When she emerged she knew perfectly well he would be gone but there was absolutely nothing she could think of to change that, especially when he appeared so unapproachable, his face like a stone, his eyes holding a chilling distance.

‘As you wish. I will call for the carriage to come around and meet you by the front door.’

She slipped from the room, hurrying, desperate not to meet anybody because if anybody tried to engage her in polite conversation she was likely to burst into tears. Or scream. Or do something that was completely unacceptable. Lord only knew, she was considered peculiar enough by her neighbors without having an inexplicable bout of hysterics added to her sins.

I completely fumbled the entire thing. I had thought that all he needed to do was kiss me and, it would all be perfectly wonderful. He would realize that he could not resist me, could not possibly leave tomorrow, or the next day or… or ever. But I got it so dreadfully wrong. What did I do wrong? Oh Johanna… you are such a fool!

And she was a fool. A stupid, romantic nincompoop who should have known better. She took a moment to visit the retiring room, hoping to regain some of her shattered composure but it was more difficult than she had imagined. Not because she had made such a botch of the whole thing. Not even because she had angered the very man that she hoped to interest. No, the thing that was most upsetting was that he would be gone at first light and she would not have a chance to put it right between them.

He looked so cold, so… angry
, she thought with a shiver. Had she really done anything so wrong? A few little untruths… they had done so much damage!

As composed as she could be under the circumstances, she left the retiring room, chin raised as she prepared to say goodbye to her hostess. She did not want to. Leaving a dance so early in the evening was sure to promote speculation but she had been raised to observe the courtesies and say goodbye she would. Moving back towards the ballroom, she paused when a door beside her opened. When she saw who stepped through it, her eyes widened.

‘Why whatever are you doing here?’ she gasped.

‘Whatever would I be doing but looking for you, my dear? I think we need to have a little chat…’

Marcus waited around the front door, doing his best not to look as if he were loitering as he had no real desire to go and mingle with the guests in the ballroom again. Young ladies had been engaging him in conversation, angling for a dance (they really
were
more forward in the country, presenting themselves without a formal introduction) and older ladies tended to try and pump him for information as to his antecedents and the reason why he was staying at Cloverton Hall. The carriage was waiting but, as yet, there was no sign of Miss Claybourn. How unusual, he thought sourly. She was probably sulking somewhere, determined to punish him by keeping him waiting about.

Except that didn’t seem quite right. Miss Claybourn might be many things – spoilt, untruthful and completely indifferent to the desires of others – but he was prepared to wager she wasn’t inclined to sulk.

So where the devil was she?

For the life of him, he did not know why he was so annoyed with her; he just knew that he was. Unreasonably so, perhaps, for she had been quite correct; several little lies did not make her a scheming hoyden. And he had to admit she had been in need when he arrived on the scene. Her youthful admirers’ schemes aside, Mordern had definitely had designs on her, while that sister of his… No, there had been some validity in her desire for assistance. But he suspected that she was quite correct; she had been managing the matter without him. No doubt she would have hit upon some scheme to rid herself of the siblings by herself. His arrival had just accelerated matters.

And as for her grandmother…

Was he annoyed at Mrs. Howeth who had, without doubt, put in a sterling performance? Actually, he couldn’t say that he was. She might be a canny old woman but she was obviously susceptible to Johanna Claybourn’s wiles. As unreasonable as it might be, all of his anger was squarely directed at the mastermind behind all of the machinations he had been subjected to over the past three days. And while he might hesitate to analyze why this was, he suspected that much of it had to do with the frustrated realization that the kiss they had shared had been a great deal more monumental than he wished it to be. She might have started the process but by God, he had finished it off. And he knew that he was in a very precarious state indeed for he wanted nothing more than to kiss her again, to rekindle the unexpectedly fervent blaze of desire that had sprung up between them and that had shaken him down to the soles of his borrowed shoes.

Was he angry at Miss Claybourn? Absolutely. But he suspected it had less to do with lies and deception and more to do with the fact that he was in very real danger of being ensnared by a beautiful heiress; exactly the kind of female he had sworn not to marry.

Where would his high-minded principles be then?

Dammit, where was the girl?
She was probably hoping that he would come looking for her. If he found her, would she waylay him again, reach up to pull his head down to her own and kiss him again? And would he have the strength to resist her? Probably not. He did not
want
to resist her. His only defense against Johanna Claybourn was anger and he allowed his to simmer like a pot on the hob, increasing with every moment that she kept him waiting.

It wasn’t until James Esk appeared that Marcus realized something might be amiss.

‘I say!’ the young man burst out, as soon as he had spotted Marcus, ‘have you seen Miss Claybourn. She promised me a dance but she seems to have disappeared.’

‘I have no idea where she is,’ Marcus said, trying to make his voice as unencouraging as possible. ‘I am waiting to take her home.’

‘Home?’ the boy repeated, face falling. ‘So early? But what about my dance?’

Marcus resisted the urge to tell the fellow that he didn’t give a damn about his dance. He knew he was being unreasonable but he was fast coming to the point where he did not care. The charms of Yorkshire – specifically, its inhabitants – were beginning to pall. ‘There will be other times, I am sure.’

‘Is she ill? She hasn’t taken a headache, has she? I saw her with that woman… Mrs. Gordon, isn’t it? Just caught a glimpse of the lady guiding Miss Claybourn along. I daresay she has a -’

‘
What
did you say?’ Marcus demanded, suddenly all attention. ‘Mrs. Gordon? Are you sure?’

‘Perfectly sure,’ Mr. Esk assured him. ‘I suppose she came along as well, although I can’t say I can remember seeing her but -’

‘When was this?’

The peremptory note in Marcus’ voice cause the young man to blink. ‘Why, not fifteen minutes ago. I was waiting for Miss Claybourn to return, but she has been gone for quite a long time. I… why, where are you going, Sir?’

Marcus wasn’t sure where he was going as he hurried through the front door. He glanced at the carriage waiting at the footsteps and his lips tightened. A carriage was hardly the kind of vehicle that would be useful if he wished to move at speed but under the circumstances, he hardly had a choice. He hurried down the steps, then paused when a rider came up the drive, a gentleman dressed in evening clothes. Marcus hesitated, eyeing the man who dismounted and handed the reins to the groom, saying in a rather supercilious tone, ‘Stable my horse, there’s a good chap.’

He waited only as long as it took for the latecomer to reach the top of the stairs before hurrying down to catch the groom up.

‘I need that horse.’

The groom, a young lad dressed in his liveried best for the occasion, turned to stare at him in surprise. ‘This be Mr. Atterly’s horse, Sir.’

‘I don’t care if it belongs to dear old Bertie himself, I must borrow it. I should be able to deliver it back before its owner misses it.’ He swept the bay stallion with a comprehensive eye. Showy, but at least the beast should be up for a gallop. He reached for the reins, taking them out of the groom’s nerveless fingers. Such behavior was clearly beyond the lad’s scope of experience for he gaped at Marcus, indecisive consternation showing in every line of his body. He wasn’t used to saying no to the gentry. Marcus gave him a reassuring smile.