The Charmer (10 page)

“Um, well . . .”

“Nothing but demands. I didn't even know what she was after half the time. The really discomfiting part was being compared. One always suspects that with a woman of experience, but at least English ladies are discreet and don't
tsk
and sigh about it.”

Hawkins fidgeted.

“Of course, Claudette really was French and her imperfect English might have had something to do with her bluntness. Presumably a woman who was fluent in our language would be able to express her disappointment with more tact.”

Hawkins smiled weakly. “No doubt.”

“Yes, I admire your aplomb, especially since you will be dealing with the duchess long-term. I remember untold relief when Claudette's family was called back to France. I am thoroughly impressed, Hawkins. I had no idea you were such a man of the world.” He fished in his pocket and withdrew the broadsides. “Now, tell me about this sheet here. The one signed Captain Brutus.”

Hawkins blinked away whatever worries distracted him while he perused the paper.

“A new name. I doubt it is a local,” he said, handing it back. “More virulent than the others. The last line caused a lot of talk.
If the aristocrats will not share the power, it must be seized from them.
Damned revolutionary sounding, isn't it? I hear that up north there are a lot of such calls, but not in Cornwall.”

“True, but then Cornwall has more than its share of boroughs. What kind of talk did it raise?”

“More agreement than one would like. Emotions are running high here. The whole country is a tinderbox.”

“When did this appear?”

“Some boys were posting it around the town today. They said a man called them into an alley and offered them three pence each.”

“Today?”

Captain Brutus had been in this town this very day.

Cursing himself, Adrian leapt out of his chair.

He was halfway to the door when it opened. Sophia stumbled in, dragged by Yuri and his jubilant brothers.

Slowly, very slowly, Adrian's heart returned to a normal beat.

“I fear that took longer than I expected,” she said, pulling the dogs in line. “I should bring them upstairs to my chamber where the cages are. Finish your cigar, Mister Hawkins. We can continue momentarily.” She disappeared again.

Adrian gritted his teeth. She had actually invited Hawkins to stay. Right in front of him.

“If you will excuse me, I will retire,” he said.

“Don't! . . . that is, don't you think it would be improper? If she is returning . . .”

He was damned if he would watch this unfold. “I leave you a clear field. However, if you take uninvited liberties, I will make you wish you had never been born.”

The warning came out a tad too pointedly.

Hawkins flushed. “I should take my leave. Not all that much moon tonight, and what with those broadsides, there could be trouble on the road later.”

Seeing that his sabre had found its mark, Adrian could not resist twisting it. “They have no argument with you. Besides, if all unfolds as you expect, you will be busy until dawn.”

“
Dawn?
Oh, yes, all the same, I wouldn't want to wear out my welcome.”

“No fear of that. The duchess invited you to stay.” He clamped a firm grasp on Hawkins' shoulder. “Do England proud, my man.”

Hawkins edged toward the door. “She should rest, what with the other boroughs to be visited. You will give her my farewell, won't you?”

He hurried out of the room.

Adrian awaited Sophia's return. No matter what her intentions with Hawkins, she would be back. For one thing, right about now she was discovering the surprise up in her chamber.

In short order the quiet inn sounded with stomping feminine feet descending the stairs. The door flew open and a furious column of black crepe trembled in the threshold. She looked absolutely stunning when her green eyes flashed like that.

She nailed him with an accusing glare. “Where is Jenny?”

“Where you left her, I expect.”

“I left her here this afternoon with the other carriage and the wagon. But she is not in my chamber, and nothing has been prepared. Camilla's cage is empty, too, but if she had taken her out I would have seen them when I walked the dogs.”

“You indeed left her, but not here. She is back at Marleigh.”

“Do not be absurd. She was with the footmen in the other carriage when we departed.”

“I am sure she was not. She had gone up to fetch Camilla and you ordered your entourage off before she returned.”

Her brow puckered while she searched her memory. She strode over and stuck her face up at him. “You
knew.
Why didn't you say something?”

“You made it explicitly clear that I was not to interfere. When one of your footmen tried to explain and you wouldn't listen, I assumed you had decided at the last moment not to take Jenny and Camilla.” His pique about Hawkins got the better of him. “After all, you could hardly initiate a liaison with a man if Jenny slept in your chamber.”

“You dared to manipulate it so that I would not have my maid with me?”

She had misunderstood. She thought that he referred to a liaison with himself, not Hawkins.

On the other hand, she had misunderstood nothing. He had considered the provocative possibilities presented by this journey.

The evidence that she also had recognized them raised a sensual edge in his annoyance with her. She had never intended to take Hawkins as a lover. She had only been using the young M.P., much as she had used her brittle mood all day, to create a shield.

He held her wary gaze with his own, letting her see that he understood, enjoying her growing discomfort more than was fair. This special vulnerability hardly incited the protective response that he often felt for her. Very different inclinations took over, and he did nothing to suppress them.

They had just crossed a line, and he would not pretend they had not.

chapter
11

S
he knew as soon as she blurted it out that she had made a mistake. His gaze sharpened with a heart-stopping expression that made it very clear that he was a man and that she was a woman who thought he wanted to sleep with her. It had been a huge error to make that explicit. She had stupidly kicked open a door and he did not look inclined to let her shut it again.

His eyes burned with a frank warmth. “When I spoke of a liaison, I referred to our junior M.P., not myself.”

She walked away with a scalding face. It felt as if her body were iron that she had to yank from a magnet. “No matter whom you meant, it was extremely presumptuous of you to let me travel without my maid.”

“Since presumptuous was the earl's favorite rebuke in my youth, I dislike the word intensely. Do not use it with me again unless you want to see just how presumptuous I can be.”

The subtle threat sent a dismaying streak of excitement down her core. “You have been overbold from the start, and much more so this evening. It must be the port.”

“Having just watched you with Hawkins, I have concluded that I have been far too timid.”

She whirled around at him. “Your insinuation is insulting. I was holding a simple conversation.”

“He pursued more than a conversation, and you know it.”

“Why shouldn't I enjoy his attention? Do you think he forced himself to flatter me merely out of his own self-interest?”
Like you.

“Every man's pursuit of a woman contains an essential self-interest, and I do not think that Hawkins had to force himself at all. I have thought from the first that making love to you would be very pleasant. I daresay he reached the same conclusion. With your encouragement.”

The announcement of his thoughts was cast out straightforwardly. From the start he had always spoken to her with a disconcerting man-to-woman tenor, but tonight the casual wit had been dropped.

“Where is he?” She felt a need for the protection of another person. Anyone would do.

“He felt obliged to leave.”

“What did you say to him?”

“Nothing to hasten his departure. Rather the opposite.”

“What did you say?”

“I reminded him that you had asked him to stay. Oh, yes, I recall that I also admonished him to do England proud.”

“To do England proud?”

“Considering the international flavor of your diversions in Paris, we wouldn't want you disappointed in your own countryman.”

He strolled toward her. She almost jumped out of her skin.

“What is this fascination that you have with boys barely out of school, Duchess? Do they seem safe to you? Controllable? You can dole out only what you choose to bestow and they are too callow to comprehend what you withhold?”

The room moved. No, she did. She instinctively backed away. She bumped into a stool and almost fell. He reached to help her but she righted herself and scurried far out of the way.

He reacted to her clumsy distress with a devastating smile. She pulled herself into some semblance of dignity while she edged away from his meandering approach. “My fascinations are my own business. Or do you intend to manage my love life now too?”

“That is exactly what I intend.”

Now, that was blunt. Her flirtation with Hawkins had probably forced his hand.

She dug in her heels and stood her ground. He advanced until only an inch separated them and she could smell the soap that he used. Stubbornness stiffened her straight.

“Now you truly are being presumptuous.”

“Despite my warning, you provoke me again with that accusation, when my behavior thus far has been anything but presumptuous.”

“You can say that with a straight face? Since the moment that you stepped into my house in Paris you have engulfed me in a wave of high-handed, tyrannical,
presumptuous
interference.”

“I have been a citadel of restraint in the things that matter.”

“You don't think that where I live matters? You don't think that being carried out of my home like a carpet matters?”

“I think that we are really speaking about other things. For example, true presumption would be taking you in my arms right now and kissing you again.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Don't you dare.” The words came out one by one in flat enunciation.

“After a challenge like that, I think that I must.”

She could have gotten away. He hesitated just long enough for her to stop it, but she decided that the only way to end his dishonorable game was to let him kiss her again and show absolutely no reaction.

That was the plan, at least.

Strength and warmth encompassed her. Fingers stretched into her hair, to position her head. The decisive pressure of his lips and the command of his embrace took control.

This was not the kiss in the garden, or even the one in the park. Masterfully, deliberately, he drew passion from wherever it hid in her. With a greed that stunned her, the void of loneliness accepted the offer of intimacy, heedless of the cost. Her soul groaned with relief, as if a long thirst was being quenched. Her secure understanding of his motivations quickly dimmed, eclipsed by the marvelous glow of pleasure sparkling in brilliant rays.

Within instants she possessed no control over any of it. She neither encouraged nor denied, but she definitely reacted. When the kiss deepened and he demanded more, her limp will acquiesced. She permitted the startling, invasive joining that meant she could never lie about this kiss in the future.

If it could have gone on just like that, she might have welcomed the connection forever. To surrender to such innocent happiness, to breathe in another's essence and bask in another's light, created a bliss that blotted out all unpleasant memories and realities. To be wanted at all, for whatever reason, soothed the oldest hungers in ways that overwhelmed her.

He broke the kiss but pulled her closer. With palm on her cheek and thumb caressing her lips, he looked down with a breath-stopping warmth. If he kissed her again, she would have no strength to stop him.

“An even greater presumption would be for me to escort you to your chamber and not leave you at the door as I had intended.”

The warning was really an oblique request. In demanding that she choose, he threw a lifeline into the turbulent river of her emotions. Gratefully, regretfully, she grabbed it. “A good thing that you are not a presumptuous man, then.”

His lips brushed hers gently. “That was not the answer I hoped for.”

“It is the one that I have to give.”

“Pity. I had hoped to discover what was underneath all those layers.”

“Just an average body. You have undoubtedly known better.”

“I did not refer to layers of petticoats. I have already seen what is under them.” He released her. “If you are determined to thwart my great conquest, we had better get you some sleep. Tomorrow will be a long day.”

For a man who had just been rejected, he was taking it awfully well. Better than she was.

He held out his hand in that commanding way of his. She forced her body not to tremble while she let him lead her from the chamber and hand her up the stairs of the silent, sleeping inn.

They stopped in front of her door. She almost crumbled with relief when he made no move to enter. At least she told herself that the emotion that sagged down to her toes was relief, even if it felt a bit like disappointment too. She nervously jimmied the key in the lock.

“It seems that with Jenny's absence we have finally found a role for me in your entourage.”

She froze with renewed caution. “It is bad form for you to pursue this. We will not be lovers. Wellington will have to be disappointed.”

“I meant the role of lady's maid.”

“I will find an inn servant to help.”

“They have all gone to bed.”

“I can manage on my own.”

“If so, you are the only woman who can.” He firmly turned her to face the door. Nimble fingers found the closure of her gown, and the black fabric loosened.

“I said that I can manage,” she repeated desperately, twisting to escape. He pressed her back in place until she hugged the door's oak planks.

Level by level, with excruciating slowness, he unlaced her stays. The warmth of his hands permeated the thin chemise underneath. She tried to give voice to indignation, but vibrating sensations full of forbidden desires and anticipation trapped her voice in her throat.

Finally the gown and stays gaped loosely down her back to her hips. She reached behind and tried to clutch them closed.

“So now you see what is beneath the layers,” she said nervously, fumbling at the door key with her other hand.

A sly caress snaked up her spine. “I never forgot the soft pale skin, or the pleasant curves in my arms.”

She trembled so badly it seemed as if the corridor had shaken. The damn key was sticking. “You have the advantage on me again, since I was unconscious.”

“You aren't unconscious now.”

That was an understatement. She was awkwardly, embarrassingly, unnaturally alert. Her back felt him as if he pressed against her even though space separated them.

He stepped closer and the space became very tiny. He slid her gown down her shoulder and bent to kiss the exposed flesh. The heat of his lips seared right into her blood. Only his commanding hold on her arms kept her upright.

He turned his mouth to her neck. Mesmerizing pleasure shot through her in hot little streaks. His magnetic aura lured her, waiting an inch away. The temptation to sink back into his confident strength almost defeated her.

She closed her eyes and savored the glory for a moment, then gritted her teeth and bent away, twisting and turning so that she faced him. “Unconscious or not, you still have the advantage and it is not fair to press it. What if someone comes out of another chamber and sees me like this?”

“Then open your door and go inside.”

“The key is stuck.”

He took it from her and poked the lock. Of course it turned at once. He pushed the door open.

“You will not come in,” she said. “I do not want you to.” A lie, that. A pitiful lie.

“I have never had much patience with the games that accompany these things. For whatever reason, you will not let me make love to you tonight. But you do want me to, maybe almost as much as I want to.”

“Your self-confidence is extremely presumptuous.”

“At least I am a presumptuous man and not a presumptuous boy. We will have to find a way to overcome your fear of that.”

He stepped aside. Forcing her heart down out of her throat, she backed in, clutching her gaping gown and stays to her back.

Humiliation suffused her as soon as the door closed. So much for the sophisticated woman of the world. Instead of putting him in his place, she had fumbled and stumbled and melted like a schoolgirl.

But, heaven help her, she had not known that he would be so bold. Or so merciless. Nor that her attraction to him would make her so weak.

This was not like her flirtations in Paris. This man created cravings that she had never expected to know. The excitement obscured reality and reason. The pleasure even submerged her resentments of why he pursued her.

Nothing but disillusionment waited if he succeeded. She could not let this happen again, that much was certain.

There was only one way to make sure it would not.