For the first time in many a long year, Edward lost control of himself. He pulled her down onto his knee and wrapped both his arms close around her. As her soft breasts melted against his chest, his lips found hers and firmed in a hot embrace that sent his blood flaming like wildfire through his veins and throbbing in his throat.
It was a momentary madness, completely out of character, yet irresistible. Strangely, Samantha didn
’
t resist, either. She not only let him kiss her, she kissed him back. His heart pumped harder when he felt her arms go around his neck, tentatively at first, then squeezing gently. Her fingers moved disturbingly in the hair at the nape of his neck, sending dangerous quivers up his spine.
The last two days had seemed unreal to Edward, like some special magical period apart from reality, and as the kiss lingered, he knew that the past hours had been leading ineluctably to this moment. He had wanted to kiss those cherry lips from the moment Samantha had come into his study with those horrid coquelicot ribbons on her bonnet.
Or perhaps it was when she had removed her pelisse and he realized that she had grown into a charmer that he had first felt this urge. Her provincial manners and outspokenness should have disgusted him. In theory, they did. But in fact, they excited him. They made her seem less a lady, and more a woman.
As the moment
’
s madness subsided, Samantha withdrew from his arms and stood up. She felt shaken at what had just happened. She had let him kiss her out of curiosity, to see if Salverton was as cold-blooded as he pretended
—
and perhaps, she admitted, because she just wanted him to kiss her. She hadn
’
t realized a simple kiss could so swiftly accelerate to passion. She saw at once that Edward was as shaken as she was herself. He didn
’
t know what to say. His scarlet past was too far behind him to make him comfortable during this little contretemps.
She playfully lifted a finger and said, smiling,
“
Now, Cousin, you promised Miss Donny you would behave. We shall forget this happened, if you please, and continue on our way. There, I
’
m being bossy again.
”
She hoped he hadn
’
t noticed that she was breathless.
Salverton rose.
“
Samantha
—
I
’
m sorry. That was unforgivable. A moment
’
s madness. You were so close, and
—”
She gave him a saucy look.
“
And you are still young enough to succumb to temptation. Well, that is something, anyway.
”
She walked calmly to the carriage and let herself in. Salverton stood looking after her. He had never seen a lady move so gracefully, with a lithe, swaying motion in her hips. Her waist was ridiculously small. He wanted to go after her and kiss her again. Lord, he had thought he was over that schoolboy fever for women.
What must she think of him? He must show her by his behavior during the rest of this escapade that he was completely trustworthy. But there lingered at the back of his mind the fact that she hadn
’
t tried to stop him.
While he drove the carriage along the rutted path, his mind wandered to Lady Louise. He had been courting her for six months, and never felt the least urge to misbehave so shamelessly as he had with Samantha. He hadn
’
t felt that way about any of the pretty girls who were regularly thrown at his head. They had all seemed alike. He must marry, and since the girls were all alike, why not choose the best-born and best-dowered of them? Except that he no longer wanted to marry Lady Louise.
How could he, when he felt like this about Samantha Oakleigh? Of course it wasn
’
t love, he told himself severely. It was merely one of those powerful fascinations that would soon run itself to a standstill, and it was a great pity that it should have occurred just then, when he was on the verge of success with Louise.
Samantha argued with herself, too, as she was jostled along the rutted path. She really shouldn
’
t have let Edward kiss her like that. It was for the lady to impose boundaries. If she had behaved more like a lady, he would have treated her like one. He obviously thought her no better than she should be. He would never lose control like that with Lady Louise. He respected her too much.
She would behave with a good deal more propriety from now on. But she felt that if he wanted to kiss her again, she would be hard pressed to deny him. It had been a surprisingly warm kiss.
He hadn
’
t seemed like Lord Salverton at all when he attacked her. He had seemed more like Lord Salty. That wilder side of Edward hadn
’
t died; it was still there, dormant, waiting to burst out when his guard was down, and she liked him better for it. She was relieved when the end of the road was finally in sight. The tree tunnel thinned, and at its end stood Jonathon Sykes, his legs apart, arms akimbo. He came forward, wearing his usual jaunty grin.
“
I see you made it, melord.
”
“
Did you manage to lose Fletcher?
”
Salverton asked.
“
He
’
s loitering about town. I booked myself a room for the night, paid for it
—
I
’
ll add it to your bill. I managed to slip out the back door of the inn. We
’
d best head straight to Tunbridge Wells, if you
’
ll just hop down and let a fiddler take hold of the reins, melord.
”
Salverton was already in a bad mood. He didn
’
t think it was by chance that Sykes cast these aspersions on his driving. A
“
fiddler
”
indeed! Salverton was well known for his skill in handling the ribbons. And of course Samantha was listening to every word.
“
Well done, Mr. Sykes!
”
she called from the lowered window. Sykes, the demmed jackanapes, bowed low.
Salverton climbed down and let himself into the carriage. If he waited for Sykes to open the door, no doubt another pound would be added to his bill.
The atmosphere in the carriage was strained. Each was determined to forget what had happened in the tree tunnel, and behave with the utmost propriety.
“
How is the crick in your back, Cousin?
”
Samantha asked when they had driven a few hundred yards without speaking.
“
Improving. If I just lay my head back against the squabs, it will pass.
”
He did this, and closed his eyes into the bargain, which would have made conversation difficult if there had been any. As neither of them could think of anything to say, there was no talk until they were nearly at Tunbridge Wells.
“
We
’
re nearly there,
”
Samantha said then.
Salverton opened his eyes and looked out the window at picturesque hills and moorland.
“
Pretty,
”
he said.
“
My aunt used to come here for the chalybeate waters.
”
“
What are chalybeate waters? Are they like the horrid sulphur water at Bath?
”
“
Equally horrid, but flavored with iron instead of sulphur. You can try a glass at the Pump Room, if you like.
”
“
I would rather have a nice cup of tea.
”
“
So would I. As soon as we find Darren, we
’
ll have tea, then head straight back to London.
”
“
That will be nice,
”
she said primly.
After this stilted exchange, they both turned to look out the window, where a lively scene greeted them. As they drew into the town, carriages of all sorts were plentiful, as were holidayers. The company was not composed entirely of valetudinarians come to take the waters. There were a few families and a liberal sprinkling of lightskirts come to prey on the elderly gentlemen.
“
Jonathon knows where Sir Geoffrey
’
s house is,
”
Samantha said.
“
Of course he does. He knows everything.
”
Samantha saw that her companion was still in one of his moods, and said no more. If it weren
’
t so ridiculous, she would think Edward was jealous of Mr. Sykes.
Sykes drew the carriage to a stop at the edge of town and climbed down to speak to melord and Miss Oakleigh.
“
You have the directions to The Laurels?
”
Salverton said, ready with the directions himself in the unlikely case that Sykes was capable of forgetting anything.
“
Just this side of Rusthall Common, half a mile north.
”
“
Let us proceed there at once.
”
“
I was thinking,
”
Sykes said, adopting a pensive attitude that displayed his handsome profile to Miss Oakleigh.
“
A dasher like Wanda wouldn
’
t be sitting indoors on her thumbs on a fine day like this. She
’
d have her young man take her on the strut.
”
“
Of course! Wanda is a regular road hog. Where do you think they would be, Mr. Sykes?
”
Samantha asked eagerly, taking the man
’
s word for gospel.
“
Only one place to go in Tunbridge Wells. The Pantiles.
”
“
Where is that?
”
He erupted into a burst of Jovian laughter.
“
Bless me, you don
’
t know nuthin
’
. It
’
s what they call the Parade, a promenade in the heart of town. Folks go on the strut to see and be seen, visit the shops to pick up knickknacks, have a bite to eat or a drink. All the crack. I
’
ll show you.
”
Salverton directed a cold, commanding stare at his driver. The wretch was right, as usual, but that didn
’
t mean he must stick to them like a burr.
“
Stable the rig close by. Miss Oakleigh and I will make a quick tour of the Parade. Wait for us outside the Pump Room. We
’
ll meet you there, with or without Mr. Oakleigh.
”
“
You don
’
t figure you might want an extra pair of fists, in case the lad cuts up stiff?
”
“
I can handle Mr. Oakleigh, Sykes.
”
Salverton
’
s tone suggested he could also handle Sykes, and would enjoy doing so.
“
Just as you say, melord. I
’
ll see you at the Pump Room when you get there. Good luck!
”
He touched his hat, smiled in Samantha
’
s direction, and returned to the carriage, stopping at the near end of the Pantiles to let his passengers dismount.
There was an awkward moment while Samantha wondered whether she should take Edward
’
s arm, and he wondered whether he should offer it. Neither felt comfortable making the first move, so they began walking along side by side without touching. They walked down the colonnaded side, peering at the pedestrians and into shops for a sight of Wanda and Darren. As Salverton had never seen Wanda and hadn
’
t seen Darren for five years, he hardly knew whom they were looking for.
Whenever he spotted a dark-haired lightskirt, he would point her out and ask,
“
Would that be her?
”
“
No, she
’
s taller and better-looking.
”
“
How about this one?
”
he asked a moment later, when a flashing-eyed bit of muslin leered at him.
“
Gracious, Edward! She
’
s not so vulgar! We would have known enough to stay away from a creature like that. Wanda looks ladylike
—
in comparison to that vulgar jade, I mean.
”
“
I wonder if Darren would be fool enough to be prancing about in public when Bow Street is looking for him.
”
“
He doesn
’
t know they
’
re looking for him. I
’
m sure he thinks the money belonged to Wanda, and
she
has the nerve for anything. Very likely Mr. Sykes is right, and we
’
ll find them in a shop, spending Sir Geoffrey
’
s blunt.
”
At one end of the Pantiles stood the seventeenth-century church of King Charles the Martyr. As they passed in front of it to the other side of the promenade, a youngster rolling a hoop nearly capsized Samantha. Edward instinctively reached to steady her. When they continued their walk down the other side, he continued holding her arm. Samantha gave him an uncertain glance, wondering if she should detach herself from him.
“
Let me hold your arm,
”
he said.
“
It might discourage the hussy in the red curls who
’
s been following us.
”
Samantha looked behind, and saw there was indeed a saucy redhead with her eye on Edward. Samantha felt a jolt of annoyance out of all proportion to the incident. It should have been amusing, but she was not amused. She gave the woman a cutting stare and took a closer hold of Salverton
’
s arm. They continued their walk, always keeping a sharp eye out for their quarry. The lime trees provided shade on their side of the promenade, but were an impediment to keeping an eye on the other side of the road.