Secrets of Seduction (3 page)

He had not begun his courtship yet; he was merely readying his house to receive a new bride. But given his plans, Skye had little time to discover if she and Hawkhurst were a match and, if so, to somehow prevent his betrothal and marriage to another woman.

She was never one to turn away from a challenge, though.

Tamping down her frustration, she offered the earl her most winning smile. “Just hear me out, my lord.
Please
. It is the least you can do, given your friendship with my aunt.”

Leaning back in his chair, he folded his arms over his chest. “Very well. You have five minutes.”

Waiting for her
response, Hawk watched Lady Skye, unwillingly entranced. Even wet and bedraggled, she was lovely. Her face was fine-boned and classical; her hair a shade of champagne silk; her wide eyes the vivid blue of a cloudless summer’s day, a reflection of her uncommon name.

Contrarily, she didn’t reply to his decree at once, merely leaned closer to the hearth to dry her damp tresses. The firelight behind her rimmed her ivory profile and shimmered through the curtain of her hair as she used her fingers like a comb.

Her movements were unconsciously sensual and made Hawk swear an oath under his breath. Granted, he’d gone too long without female companionship to satisfy his carnal needs, but why this particular female roused such a powerful ache in him, he couldn’t say.

The impact had begun the moment he opened his front door to her. Lady Skye caught him completely off guard, a feat even his worst foes rarely managed. And
when she’d fallen into his arms, his baser instincts had taken control, instantly hardening his loins.

It was his body’s unwanted reaction, in addition to learning her identity, that had made his tone gruffer than normal.

She was still affecting him painfully now. If he were to conjure up a sexual fantasy, Lady Skye Wilde would fit the role exquisitely: lithe figure, ripe breasts, feminine grace, enticing warmth. Not overly tall, she looked somewhat delicate, like fine crystal, but he suspected her fragility was an illusion.

She was definitely a novelty, though, intruding into his bleak, nearly deserted house at this late hour and insisting he give her a hearing. Bold, yet charming as the devil … or a siren. For a brief moment he’d even wondered if she was part of an enemy scheme. In his profession, it wasn’t unusual to employ beautiful sirens to gain vital secrets.

Yet he did recall encountering Lady Skye a decade before. The enchanting girl was clearly a grown woman now, with her damp gown molding her elegant curves. She smelled of fresh rain and roses, a scent that wreaked havoc on his senses. And that smile of hers … That smile could slay dragons—or render a man witless.

Doubtless he was suffering the effects of too much brandy, but this was still the most aroused he’d been in years.

Hawk stirred uncomfortably in his desk chair, knowing he damn well needed to hold his lust in check. For one thing, Lady Skye was Isabella’s niece by marriage. For another, she was an unaccompanied female in his household. No honorable man would take advantage
of her vulnerability, even if she
had
willfully orchestrated this compromising situation herself.

He had best be rid of her, just as soon as he heard the cursory details of her proposition—which admittedly had surprised him as much as her unexpected arrival.

Hawk shook his head to reduce the alcoholic haze and repeated his warning of a time limit, prodding her to get on with her explanation.

“I am not certain five minutes will be enough,” she replied easily. “It is a long story.”

“Then you had best begin.”

She did not seem at all intimidated by his abrupt manner. Indeed, just the opposite; her blue gaze seemed understanding and sympathetic as she launched into her tale.

“You may know that Isabella’s late third husband, Lord Henry Wilde, was the younger brother of my uncle Lord Cornelius.”

Hawk nodded, aware that the vivacious, half-Spanish widow had wed three times, the last to a British nobleman’s son. Bella was now in her midforties, but her beauty and charm were still turning male heads. “Go on.”

“Well, Lord Cornelius is only a distant relation to my branch of the Wilde family, but my brother Quinn and I think of him as our true uncle. He took over our legal guardianship when I was ten, along with that of my three Wilde cousins after all our parents perished when their ship sank at sea.”

Somewhat surprisingly to Hawk, she quickly glossed over her loss to focus on her uncle.

“At the time, Uncle Cornelius was a literary scholar of some note but gave up his bookish life to devote
himself to raising five unruly children. He is over sixty now and a dedicated bachelor. Even though he is the dearest man imaginable, I have always thought him rather dull and a Wilde only by name. For generations our family earned a reputation for our passionate romances, but Uncle never followed suit—or so I thought until last spring, when I was helping to organize his library. I found a packet of letters hidden there. They were written some twenty-five years ago—his correspondence with a young lady from a nearby district. Imagine my surprise to discover that my staid, elderly uncle had experienced a tragic love affair when he was a young man.”

Lady Skye glanced at Hawk expectantly. No doubt she was counting on his natural curiosity to win her more time. When he gave her no encouragement, she went on doggedly.

“When I questioned Uncle about his thwarted romance, he admitted that his true love had died. Apparently, she’d been forced into an unhappy marriage to a baron, and after giving birth to a daughter, she became so despondent, she flung herself into a river and drowned. Her death left Uncle Cornelius heartbroken and is the reason he never married. Except that … only recently I learned she didn’t die after all. In fact, I was able to obtain proof that her drowning was a ruse.”

“I suppose you mean to tell me what happened to her,” Hawk said without enthusiasm.

Lady Skye smiled a bit triumphantly for dragging a response from him. “I admit I was so intrigued by the letters that I decided to investigate my uncle’s secret past further. His correspondence held several clues. The
midwife who delivered the baby daughter also served as the go-between for Uncle Cornelius and the lady, and her name was mentioned frequently when arranging their rendezvous. The letters were franked from a village near Beauvoir, the family seat of the Marquises of Beaufort, where Uncle Cornelius grew up—and where he raised the five of us Wilde cousins. Beauvoir is not far from my home, Tallis Court. Two months ago, I went to the village to question the midwife. She is very old now and quite forgetful, but I managed to coax the story from her.”

Hawk hid a wry smile. Even on so short an acquaintance with Lady Skye, he could well imagine her ability to cajole secrets from her unwitting targets.

“I was shocked by the tale she told me,” Skye confessed. “The lady’s noble husband was beating her so badly, she feared for her life. To escape the abuse, she thought she had no choice but to stage her death with the midwife’s help. Once her daughter was born, she secretly fled to Ireland to live with sympathetic kin.”

“It is not so easy to fake a drowning,” Hawk remarked. “Her body would have been easily identified.”

“But it was not immediately found and was presumed to have washed away. Months later, when coincidentally a corpse was uncovered many miles downstream, it was thought to be the lady’s. So there was no further reason to search for her.” Lady Skye pursed her lips. “I don’t know for certain, but I think she may still be alive, living in Ireland.”

“And you wish to find her.”

“Yes. If it is at all possible, I would dearly love to reunite my uncle and his true love. But, actually, my goal is more complicated than that.”

Hawk raised an eyebrow. “How so?”

Her charming smile flashed again. “I thought you would never ask. I believe the baby daughter was actually my uncle’s child and not the baron’s.”

“What makes you think so?”

“First, the timing of her birth. She was born barely nine months after the lady’s marriage. But there are other indications—certain of the daughter’s mannerisms and features. The set of her eyes bears an uncanny resemblance to my uncle’s, for instance. Her hair color also is similar, although his has turned silver by now.”

“You have met the daughter?”

“Yes. When I realized she was living in London, I searched her out. She is near my same age but has already accomplished a great deal in her life. She is a botanical scholar and a gifted artist, with an expertise on roses. When I read a scientific paper by her, I was surprised to find her writings have a literary bent like Uncle’s. Of course, I could not tell her the real reason for my interest in her work.”

Hawk was impressed by Lady Skye’s attention to detail, but still skeptical of her conclusion. “If the lady was carrying Cornelius’s child, why wouldn’t she have told him?”

“Because she was married to a wealthy, powerful nobleman and feared his retribution. According to the midwife, she would not go to Cornelius for help, for she couldn’t bear for him to be hurt. She despaired of leaving her newborn daughter behind also, but the possible consequences would have been worse. Making her infidelity public would have caused an enormous scandal, and the baron’s violence against her would likely have intensified. And he might have taken
his revenge on the child or, at the least, disowned her. Yet if she took the baby, she feared he would never stop looking for her. If she simply died, her daughter would have the possibility of a good life.”

“It sounds tediously melodramatic,” Hawk drawled.

“Indeed,” Lady Skye agreed. “But a scandal could still result if I go charging off, announcing my theory to the world. The baron remarried a year later, and if his first wife was still alive at the time, he would have committed bigamy. He is now gone, but his son inherited the barony, and there could be a question of his legitimacy. So you see if I am to investigate further, why I must tread carefully?”

Hawk did see the impediments Lady Skye faced, but she didn’t seem to expect a reply from him as she continued.

“Furthermore, until I know if the lady is alive, I don’t want to tell my uncle and raise his hopes. If she is not, there may be no reason to dredge up the painful past. Yet I cannot simply drop the matter or ignore my conscience. Uncle doesn’t know he might have a daughter. If it is true, he should know about her. And she should likewise know about him. As I said, he has been like a father to me, and he deserves every happiness.”

“Why haven’t you asked your brother or cousins for help?” Hawk asked.

“Because they are fully occupied at present. Quinn is something of a genius who occasionally dabbles in science, and he has disappeared from London, I presume to work on his latest invention, although he sometimes acts contrarily just to thwart me. My cousins Ashton and Jack both recently married. I don’t wish to intrude on their privacy with their new brides, particularly
when a search might take them out of the country. Only Aunt Isabella and my cousin Katharine know about Uncle Cornelius’s woeful past, and they are both eager to remedy his heartbreak if possible.”

“So you’ve been plotting all these months to reunite the long-separated lovers?”

She flashed him a brilliant smile. “Yes—but I have gone as far as I can on my own, which is why I need
you
, my lord. Someone with your particular skills will have a much better chance than I of locating a fugitive wife after all these years. The midwife could only recall the first name of the lady’s relation in Ireland, not the surname or the county she fled to. I understand that you know Ireland fairly well, since you often purchase horses there.”

“Ireland is a large country,” he parried.

“But since you are a master spy, surely you can find her. And the trail is not entirely cold. Along with the letters I found a miniature portrait of the lady, commissioned by my uncle. Her daughter is her spitting image, except for the eyes and hair, so you would have a likeness to go on. I have the miniature here in my reticule, if you care to see it.”

Hawk deliberately ignored her offer. “Even if I were inclined to help you, I haven’t the time just now.”

Lady Skye nodded sagely. “My aunt told me why you returned to England. You are preparing to make a marriage of convenience.”

“Is there nothing Bella kept to herself?” Hawk murmured, his tone halfway between exasperation and annoyance.

“I told you, you should not blame her,” she replied amiably. “I had to worm the information about your
secret organization out of her.” Her smile was rueful, almost apologetic, and completely charming. “When I am determined, I usually get my way.”

Hawk made a scoffing sound, which Lady Skye ignored in turn. “Aunt Isabella is very fond of you, Lord Hawkhurst, and believes you will help me, in part because she says you enjoy a good mystery as much as a challenge.”

Hawk glanced down at the letter on his desk. Bella had indeed predicted that he would relish the challenge and said he would be doing her an immense favor if he were to help her niece.