The Viscount's Sweet Temptation (4 page)

He began before the idea solidified. “It was my sister’s request, although clearly not a well-thought one. She is ill, you see, and we were uncertain of her recovery. In a moment of fever, she begged me to bring her friend to her. How could I refuse her dying wish?”

Alderford’s right eyebrow rose ever so slightly, as did the tension in his voice. “And you chased my daughter for two days, then stole her in the night before she could awaken her parents?”

Morley spun towards Lady Harriet. “Did you not leave a note with your maid, as you said you would?”

Her eyes became saucers. “Why, no I—that is, I, I was so fearful of my dearest friend passing before I could see her. I wasn’t myself. I don’t recall whether I wrote the note or not.”

His eyes squinted with the smile he fought to hide. Why did it feel so sinfully delightful to have her play along so well? It had nothing to do with not being parson-tied. She was a worthy partner, it would seem.

“You should have wakened us,” Lady Alderford scolded her daughter. “And taken Burney with you. Traveling alone with a man—” her hands fluttered to cover her bosom. “I hate to think what people will say.”

“I am sorry, Mama. I was quite distraught.” Lady Harriet’s expression appeared more like a cat who’d just finished a saucer full of cream.

Lord Alderford sat quietly, but Morley felt the earl’s anger like daggers piercing any small amount of relief he felt. “A delightful tale, young man. Which leads me to assume the truth. You will not have your way in this.”

Lady Harriet’s father nodded toward the women and continued. “You will not be
marrying
my daughter. You will not speak of the matter outside this carriage. No one will know of this.”

“As you say, sir. No one will know of this.”

Lady Alderford voiced her opinion. “My dear husband, they spent the night alone together.”

“I am aware of that. If the man were a kidnapper, would you have me turn our daughter over to him?” Alderford drew Harriet to his side.

“But Papa, he didn’t kidnap me—”

“Quiet, child. I did not ask for your contribution to this discussion. I am you father and I know what is best for you.”

A belt of terror tightened around Morley’s chest. If her father insisted on a wedding there was nothing Morley could do but appear at the altar.

Alderford nearly rose from his seat. “There is not, nor will there ever be, a betrothal between the two of you. I will not allow my daughter to marry a man who treats her reputation so callously. I won’t have her name associated with such a man. No. We are lucky no one knows of this, and I’m determined that no one will learn of the events of this night. We will go on to Danby Castle and Harriet shall marry the man the duke has chosen for her.”

“You have my word, Lord Alderford. And now that your daughter is safely beside you, I shall return to my carriage.”

Alderford nodded. “Yes, go. And next time consider the ramifications of such action before setting out.”

“But what of your sister?” Lady Alderford asked.

Closing his eyes, Morley swore to himself, then prayed for release from this discussion. He’d completely forgotten that portion of his lie. “I shall tell her simply that I missed Lady Harriet’s departure for Yorkshire, and beg dear Eleanor to hold on until after the holidays.”

The older woman smiled and raised a handkerchief to her eyes. Before anyone could stop him, he bowed and took his leave of the Alderford carriage. The cold air hit the dampness on his brow, and he realized how deeply he’d feared the outcome of the conversation. Yet he’d escaped with no threats of a special license being obtained.

To think he’d believed his trip to Bath would be dull, uneventful—a break from the noise and excitement of his sisters’ company. Shaking his head, he pitied the man the Duke of Danby had chosen for his granddaughter. But not as much as he thanked the saints it was not him.

Smithers was wrestling with the carriage as Morley approached, attempting to raise it enough to remove the broken wheel. “Here, man, let me assist.” Behind them he heard the Alderford carriage depart.

The physical labor of repairing the coach gave outlet to the anxiety he’d built up in Lady Harriet’s presence. It also gave him time to think more about her, and how she looked in the light of day.

Her pale hair had glowed in the early morning mist, despite the heavy clouds above. She was sunlight itself. Her eyes were bluer than he could recall seeing before. When she stepped out of his carriage, her tremulous smile had tugged at him. He’d felt an unexpected longing to kiss her fears away.

 
Morley wiped the back of his gloved hand across his brow. He must stop thinking about the silly chit and celebrate his narrow escape. Smithers tightened the wheel hub then nodded at his boss. “She be right sound, now, my lord.”

Returning the nod, Morley strode through the muck to the door. Glancing at his boots as he stepped inside, he was grateful he was traveling alone. His mother would scold him soundly for tracking in all that mud. Yes, he was lucky on many fronts this morning.

He woke later, uncertain how far they had traveled. His head pounded. He looked for the bread and cheese he’d acquired at the same stop he’d collected his stowaway. Once his hunger abated, he could think clearly again.

Somehow, his thoughts returned to Lady Harriet. As hard as he might, he couldn’t imagine what she would look like at a ball, dressed in her finest gown with jewels woven amongst her curls. The image didn’t suit her. She seemed the type who ran willy-nilly through a meadow chasing after butterflies, mud clinging six inches or more up her hem, as his sisters often did. A true woodland nymph or fairy.

He considered what her cousin Nick, his mate from Oxford, would say about the adventure, and instantly sobered. Nick would have his hide if he knew Morley had spent the night alone with Harriet, albeit a cold one in a broken carriage. That made the implications even worse. One must find some way of generating warmth, and what better way than exploring one another’s bodies beneath the blankets?

No, Nick knew Morley too well to accept he’d kept his hands to himself.

Chapter Seven

Morley rocked and swayed with the rhythm of his carriage on the muddy road and stewed over the events of the previous night. He’d given up on sleep. Long spells alone in the carriage normally didn’t trouble him, but this journey had been anything but normal.

What a silly chit Lady Harriet was. He imagined his sisters to be just so. He spent so little time in the family home these days, he didn’t know for certain, but their constant chatter and giggles made it impossible to believe they were anything but silly. The idea of them attempting such a scheme gave him a headache. Would Eleanor stow away on a carriage without knowing who was traveling within? Did their father realize the foolish notions these girls might take into their heads? And worse, act upon? He should bar the doors and not leave the girls unsupervised until their wedding days.

He gnawed on the corner of his mouth. It was enough to make a man question his duty to bear children. Of course he and his chums, Nick and Drew, were much worse in their school antics.

No, that was inaccurate. What could be worse than a young woman traveling alone? No chaperone, no maid. No sense, to be certain. A woman like that needed a firm hand, and Alderford obviously failed to apply one. Lady Harriet was clearly a spoiled, willful child. Not the type one might consider as a wife.

If one were in search of a wife.

And he was not. He had a few more years before his father would begin pressing him for an heir. As he, himself, was not a difficult man to please, the process of finding one should be of short duration. He had no foolish notions of love. That was the stuff of the novels his sisters carried with them everywhere.

No, a simple affection and ease of conversation was all he required in a bride. Love and companionship would come in time.

Of course, a pleasing countenance and attractive figure would go far in making the pursuit of an heir a more pleasurable adventure. Lady Harriet had both qualities. While not the ripe curves of a mature woman, hers had been soft against him as she slept. He’d needed more control than he’d been aware he possessed to keep his hands from discovering exactly how heavy her breasts were.

He shifted on the bench as his clothing grew uncomfortable. Perhaps while he was in Bath he’d find a lovely widow whose bed he could warm. That would banish any remaining desires his body held for Harriet. Lady Newbridge came to mind, or Mrs. Lester, if she had returned from the Continent.
 

An image filled his mind of Lady Harriet’s wide-eyed gaze when he’d begun weaving his tale for her parents. She hadn’t expected him to deflect any of the blame from her. Wouldn’t her brother do as much? He recalled Penlow as rather adventurous, joining in many of the antics Morley and the others stirred up in their school days.

She had not the skill of a life-long storyteller, but she gained strength as she spoke. Her conversation while they had waited in his carriage had been entertaining enough. Did she enjoy discussing books and the news of the day, or was she properly schooled in the usual limits of the weather and equally dull topics?

The longer he sat alone in his carriage, where the scent of her perfume still lingered to taunt him, the more curious he became. Was it just her friendship with his sister that made her so intriguing? He hadn’t learned anything more about her last night than he might in a fifteen-minute morning call in London. While she was quite pretty, her beauty alone couldn’t be blamed for his interest.

Nor could the guilt weighing on him for not stepping up and doing the right thing. He should have insisted on marrying her. The scheme was not of his making, but the duty was still his. He was the only one who could protect Lady Harriet from wagging tongues. What if the man the duke had chosen for her learned of her escapade? Would he break the betrothal? Or treat her badly believing her to have loose morals?
 

An honorable man would insist on marrying the lady.

Be reasonable, man. You’ve only just met the chit. You know nothing about her
. The lack of sleep must be affecting his reason. He felt nothing for Lady Harriet. In a day or two she’d be forgotten and he would be safe, and single.

Lord Alderford’s angry vehemence rang through Morley’s thoughts.
I will not allow my daughter to marry a man who treats her reputation so callously.

Callously? Morley had never treated a young lady’s reputation with anything but the utmost respect. It was the lady, herself, who had taken the risk, and he’d done everything he could to prove her blameless.

How dare Lord Alderford think Morley would allow even the merest hint of scandal to color Lady Harriet’s name. The man was a fool if he thought he could find any man more capable of giving his daughter what was her due as the daughter of an earl. And if the Duke of Danby believed he’d found a more suitable match than Morley, the man was obviously addlepated.

Anger simmered in Morley’s gut. He couldn’t sit back and let this stain remain on his reputation. If Lady Harriet were to marry, it should only be to someone such as he. Someone whom she felt she could trust. He was of a mind to tell her family just this.

Yes, that’s what he must do. Drive to Yorkshire and tell the Duke of Danby and the Earl of Alderford exactly what he thought of their scheme to marry Lady Harriet to the first available suitor.

Grabbing his cane, he rapped on the ceiling. Without waiting for Smithers to respond, he shouted, “Turn this conveyance around. We are for Yorkshire.”

Chapter Eight

I am in love.

Harriet sighed and stared out the bedroom window in Danby Castle. Her breath fogged the cool glass, but she saw only the conspiratorial smile Archie had given her in her father’s carriage.

His eyes had glittered. His lips turned up in the barest sign of humor, but she felt the laughter in his gaze. They had worked together in their tale, he so much more deftly than she, and her parents had almost believed their fable. He was free of any obligation to her.

That thought brought on a second sigh.

She wondered what marriage to him would be like. Would he be an attentive husband whose love grew over the years? He would be an excellent father, of that she was certain, given the way Ellie spoke of her own papa. One could often gauge the measure of a man by the type of person his father was.

Now Harriet needed a way to escape Grandpapa’s plans for her so she could marry Archie. Ellie could arrange his attendance at a ball next Season and surely he would fall madly in love with her upon second sight.

As madly as she had fallen. This sigh clouded the window entirely and she rubbed her wool sleeve on the glass before turning away, her heart aching with the knowledge there was no escaping the Duke of Danby’s orders.

She was done for.

Harriet had yet to see the duke. She and her mother had been allowed to retire upon their arrival so late in the day. Moving to a chair by the fire, she sat and gazed at the flames, wishing Miriam was here. Or better still, Ellie.

Could she tell Ellie about the kiss? She must. They told each other everything. But by the time she saw her friend, Harriet would be married to some other man, and it wouldn’t be proper to talk of another man’s kiss.

Who had Grandpapa chosen for her? Probably the son of one of his old friends. A younger son, most likely, possibly one with a minor title, due to her father’s status. Grandpapa was nothing if not a stickler for rank. Several of her mother’s cousins had not been allowed to marry their loves because he felt they did not suit. Perhaps that was the reason Harriet’s cousins had been so slow to wed. Not one of them were married, and almost all were older than she.

A quiet scratch on the door drew her attention, but her mother walked in before Harriet could speak.

“May I join you, my dear?”

“Of course, Mama.”

Her mother sank into the chair opposite Harriet’s and drew a coverlet across her lap with a shiver. “This place has grown no less drafty since our last visit. In fact, each time we return, I believe it is more so.”