Midnight Temptations With a Forbidden Lord (14 page)

“You should learn how to tell a lie,” Tristan said, straightening his cravat, never letting his eyes stray far from Leo since his friend was still angry.

Leo shrugged. “I’m sorry we’ll miss you.”

“I’m sure you are,” Tristan said.

He took his seat again and drank his glass of whisky as he listened to Hayden and Leo discuss Jez’s will before going on to upcoming parliament matters.

A certain troublesome chit consumed Tristan’s thoughts during their conversation. Would she be attending the most notorious house party of the season with her father’s approval? That seemed odd only because Ponsley and Carleton stood on opposing sides in political dealings. Could it be because the Carletons were influential?

The rest of their evening proceeded without incident. They stayed for two drinks, ate a few small plates of sandwiches, and bade Hayden a good evening.

Tristan walked with Leo since the night was warm and neither lived far. The fog continued to blanket the city.

“Why are you really attending the Carleton party?” Tristan asked.

Leo gave him a long look. “I have my reasons. But for now, they are my reasons alone.”

“You may be a changed man by the time you return.”

Leo shrugged noncommittally.

“You should see Jez soon. She wasn’t herself when I was there earlier.”

“You said she was ill.”

“There was something more. Something she wasn’t telling me.” Should he tell his friend that the butler had been anxious to be rid of Tristan? Perhaps he was overreacting. Leo would have to form his own opinion when he paid Jez a visit.

“She’s had a great shock since her husband’s death. Her life has spiraled in a direction she never wished for,” Leo said.

“True, but a life without her husband should be the start of something fresh.”

“One would think so. But I agree, she is acting odd.”

“I understand she’s distraught over the sordid business regarding the title and her income now that neither will be in her possession for long. But you should judge for yourself when you visit her next.”

“I had already planned on seeing her tomorrow.” Leo rubbed the side of his face where a day’s worth of beard was growing in. “You’ll have to keep an eye on her while I’m away. I don’t trust Warren.”

That made two of them, and he didn’t doubt for a second that Hayden felt the same way.

“Should something happen, I’ll send word. But Warren won’t get anywhere near her, that I can promise.”

Leo slapped Tristan on the back of the shoulder and turned to walk up the stairs to his townhouse. His staff was ever vigilant, and his valet opened the door before he could turn the handle up.

Tristan shoved one hand in his pocket, and the other clicked the cane against the cement with every step he took down the street. It was only half past eleven, but the streets were bustling with partygoers, and the night air warm and welcoming. There wasn’t a breeze to be had and the fog had settled in, taking hold of the city, reducing visibility the closer he got to his townhouse. Before long he was home. The maidservant came to him wide-eyed as his footman took his hat and cane and helped him with his jacket.

“My lord.” She curtsied, bobbing her head respectfully. “There be a visitor for you in the kitchen.”

“Who is it?”

“She won’t say, just says she’s got to see you upon your return.”

“Go on to bed, Sarah. I’ll make sure our visitor is taken care of.”

She curtsied and nodded again before heading to the back of the house where the servants’ quarters were. After dismissing his footman, he headed toward the kitchen, eager to know who could be paying him a visit so late in the evening. The brazier was going, and the amber light from the coals pressed out between the cracks of the door, which he opened slowly, still unsure who his midnight visitor might be.

She was cloaked and had a hood pulled over her head to hide her identity, and she was perched precariously on the edge of a wooden chair. He crossed his arms over his chest and pressed his shoulder against the door frame as though he were holding it up.

“I’m told you’re here to see me.”

She stood rather suddenly. Her hands reached up to the hood of her cloak and pushed the material back. Of all the women it might be—because he did have many acquaintances, not just paramours—he wasn’t expecting to see her face.

His eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed. What was she up to? Surely this was some sort of trickery. They’d seen each other a few days ago, and though neither of them had penned another letter, he was still thinking of ways to assist her.

Lady Charlotte’s bottom lip was wet where she’d likely been nibbling on it.

“And to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

“I hadn’t heard anything from you. I worried that you’d changed your mind.”

“You’ve not been far from my thoughts since last we met.” Which was the truth. He’d not stopped thinking about her, trying to find another way—aside from marriage—to help her out of her conundrum.

She sucked in her lower lip. “I—I was afraid to send another note.”

“That is no more dangerous than you showing up here in the flesh, my lady.”

She glanced down at her entwined hands as though she were embarrassed by her actions. Had she been thinking about him, too, these past few days?

“I wanted to see you before I left for the country,” she whispered.

“You don’t leave for another week. And even then you will only be gone for a few weeks, Lady Charlotte.”

She reached for his arm, pulled him farther into the kitchen, and pushed the kitchen door shut. She released a breath of relief once they were cossetted in the relative privacy of the room. Now what? Good Lord, he’d never been baffled by the presence of a beautiful woman in all his life. But there was no denying that Lady Charlotte befuddled him.

“You should have sent a note. Your presence here is … dangerous.”

He didn’t want her taking any chances with her reputation—not till they had a firm plan in place. He reached for her arm, needing to touch her and assure himself that she was really here. A strong urge to take her in his arms and promise her that everything would work out nearly overtook him.

He took a step away from her as her gaze met his. Strike that. He wanted more than to comfort her. She needed to leave before he did something irrational like kiss that pout away from her lips.

“If you’re trying to frighten me off it won’t work,” she said.

“How else am I supposed to act when you show up at my house in the middle of the night? The only thing I want to do right now is to kiss those delectable lips of yours, Lady Charlotte.”

“Oh—I see.” She took a step back, her bravado faltering only for a moment. “I thought we shared a common goal?”

That brought a grin to his lips. “We do.”

He walked toward her, widening his arms, taking in her form, covered by that dreadful figure-shielding cloak. She took another step backward.

“What are you doing?”

Her voice was husky, and without an ounce of trepidation. He knew without question that she wanted to taste his lips just as much as he wanted to drink her in.

“If you want to ensure your marriage to Mr. Warren never happens, we can solve that problem right now.” The promise in his own voice halted his forward momentum for a second. Oh, the wicked things he wanted to do to her.

“How—how do you suppose we’ll end my engagement?”

“Take your cloak off and find out,” he offered, moving toward his quarry.

She stood her ground and released the frog at her throat to let the black velvet pool on the ground. The dress beneath was midnight blue, sweeping off both shoulders, and ruched in a vee shape down the front of the bodice. Her breasts were high, and her waist so small he wanted to wrap his hands around her. What a sweet enticement she was. A banquet for the eyes, and a feast that would only end once his hands and mouth devoured every bit of her naked flesh.

“You plan to seduce me here, then? Is that your bright idea?” She pointed her finger at his chest, halting him midstep. “Because there are so many people here to witness that I’m in a compromising position. Well, let me tell you how I see it, Lord Castleigh: you are no more than a very sad excuse for a rogue, one who could probably take lessons in a proper seduction from me.”

He put his fingers beneath her chin and angled her face so she had to look directly into his eyes. His hold was gentle, and she could easily pull away at any time if she so wished. She evidently did not for she stood still.

Her eyes were dark pools of molten lava, even though he knew them to be a true sea blue. Something was happening between them, and he was helpless to stop himself from exploring exactly what that something was, even though he knew he should release her and take a step back.

She sucked in her bottom lip, the tip of her tongue visible as she wet it. When she exhaled, he was done for. He stole her breath the next moment as their mouths meshed together and their tongues tangled, lost in a passion he never expected from a woman so young and inexperienced.

The way she had her hands fisted around the sleeves of his jacket, it was as though she were unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer. His hands were too rough as they tangled in her hair to pull her in tighter against his body and he gentled his hold, still desperate to taste more of her.

She bit at his lips, the top, and then the bottom. He returned the erotic nibbles, and then thrust his tongue far into her mouth, skimming it over her teeth and around her tongue. He swore he could taste her very essence. He was so wrapped in her rose scent that nothing mattered except kissing Lady Charlotte till she was weak in the knees and begging him for more.

Her hands never moved, and his threaded through her curls, now half falling from the pins. He held her so tightly and their bodies were pressed so completely together in their sudden embrace that neither could move, even though he wanted more than anything to sweep his hands across the soft swell of her breasts to see if her skin was as soft as it looked. He would bet on his life that it was.

How had he been blinded by her youth to not realize the passion sizzling just beneath her witty demeanor?

*   *   *

This wasn’t supposed to be happening, but Charlotte was helpless to pull away from the marquess. Unable to distance herself when she wanted nothing more than to sink deeper into the kiss. And what a kiss it was.

Their mouths were fused together, and their tongues tasting so deeply, it was as though they were of one mind in their need for more. She might fleetingly have thought she’d like to try kissing the marquess, but she had never truly planned for it to happen. She needed his help and it would be easier to accomplish her goal without any emotional entanglement between them.

His hands finally moved from her hair to slide over her shoulders and then lower to hold her about the waist. She skimmed her hands over the sides of his neck and jaw. And then he pulled his lips away from hers.

There was a raging fire of desire burning in his light blue eyes, and it was so intense she could feel the heat sizzling along her flesh exposed to the night air. Neither released the other; they just stood embracing and staring at each other.

Charlotte was a little out of breath, and her breasts rose and fell rapidly, surging against his chest with each inhalation. His eyes were focused on her lips again. Would he kiss her once more? Did she want him to? Oh, indeed, she did. But they couldn’t. It wasn’t right; it would change their easy friendship to something else … something darkly dangerous, even though she wanted to explore this because it was forbidden.

She dropped her hands away from him, and placed her fingers over her kiss-swollen lips, suddenly shocked by what had just transpired. What had she done? Worse, she wanted to do it again and again until she had her fill of this man. Could she ever truly get her fill of him?

The marquess must have seen something in her expression that disagreed with everything they’d done, for he released her, and dropped his hands to his sides despite the fact that he looked starved for more of her.

Her heart beat so fast in her chest that the sound pulsed in her ears and made her deaf to her surroundings. She could no more escape what she’d done than stop herself from wanting to indulge once again in the sweet touch of their bodies together, and their locked lips.

Though only a couple of steps distanced them, she practically ran back into his arms, this time stealing a surprised kiss from him.

He must have read her intent, for his arms wrapped around her immediately. This time they were not idle, but pressed into her, his hands molding her hips, her waist, her back as they tasted each other for a second time.

Kissing him was so wrong, but it felt so right.

Her breasts were crushed to his chest, her arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders and neck, her fingers tangling in his dark hair. The tresses were as soft as hers, but bone straight.

They were so lost in each other that they hadn’t realized someone had entered the kitchen until they heard the clearing of a throat behind them.

Charlotte hurriedly drew herself away from the marquess and turned to the intruder, panting heavily and flushing from the embarrassment of what she’d been doing. How dare this person interrupt something so perfect, so intense.