My Seductive Innocent (2 page)

Irritation flared in Nathan’s chest, but he tamped it down. “Bollocks. You had to see me lose control of my stick just now when Miss Benson snickered so loudly.”

“I did not,” Ellison insisted in a mutinous tone.

“I saw you,” Harthorne assured in his usual helpful way.

“Woo-hoo, Your Grace, are you in there?” Miss Benson called from the other side of the door.

Bloody, bloody hell.
He was in no mood to deal with the chit. “A moment, gentlemen, if you please,” he said before setting down his cue and striding toward the door. No doubt Miss Benson was loitering in the hope of trapping him alone and somehow maneuvering him into marriage. How the lady could conjure so much false hope from one dance of pity more than a year ago baffled Nathan.

Jesus.
Did that make him a sappy defender of the downtrodden as Ellison had accused?

That would mean he allowed emotion to rule him, and he certainly did not. No, that had been a momentary slip when he’d rescued her from the wallflower line. It had never happened before, and he would not allow it to happen again.

His own father was a sterling example of the tragedy that could strike a man who let emotions rule him. His father had fancied himself in love with Nathan’s mother, and the poor devil had paid for the weakness the rest of his beleaguered life, married to a woman who, for years, was an unpredictable tempest until she settled into permanent frostiness. Nathan had paid, too, until he’d realized her affection was unattainable. But his father had continued to want her love, despite everything, and she would never give it to him. Not really. She’d give snatches of it, and then she’d become angry and snatch it right back. And her actions eventually drove Nathan’s father away from both of them.

Nathan clutched the door, angry he’d let the memory surface. He could see Miss Benson’s long, pointy nose and spectacled eyes as she peered at him from the opening in the ajar door. With a sigh, he swung it open, but before she could even attempt to enter his private domain, he gently took her elbow and maneuvered her into the corridor. “Miss Benson?”

“Your Grace, imagine finding you here!”

“Yes, it’s quite the leap of the imagination,” he drawled.

She blushed ever so lightly and tugged on one of her tight brown curls. “Your house is enormous,” she gushed. “I became lost trying to find the terrace.”

“Ah, quite understandable,” he lied, his cheek twitching. “It’s located directly off the ballroom and
outside
.”

She batted her eyes and smiled as if she did not understand how ridiculous she appeared. “Do you mind showing me the way?”

“Ah, I wish I could, but I’ve important business that cannot wait. Follow this corridor back the way you came and one of my many servants will guide you the rest of the way.”

“But―”

“Off you go,” he ordered and gave her an encouraging nudge. When she didn’t move, he gave her the look Amelia had told him was rather daunting. “Your mother would be quite displeased to know you’ve become lost. She’s a stickler for staying on the
correct
path, I hear.”

Miss Benson gasped. “You won’t tell her?”

“Not if you go immediately.”

Miss Benson nodded, shot him a look of extreme longing that made him wish for the hundredth time that he’d never danced with her, and then she turned on her heel and fled.

As he watched to make sure she did indeed depart Amelia came around the corner with her husband—and Nathan’s closest, and once wisest, friend—at her side, where the poor fool had stayed since becoming shackled by marriage and dull-witted by love. As they strolled toward Nathan, staring into each other’s eyes and oblivious of their surroundings, he first thought about how amazing it was that they did not trip. His second thought was that he felt sorry for Aversley. One day, likely sooner than later, Amelia would crush that heart his friend had so foolishly given her. Nathan had a flash of guilt for helping Amelia win Aversley, but how could he have known the man would turn to putty in her hands? Before Amelia, Aversley had been just as averse to the notion of love as Nathan was.

When it appeared the couple might walk right into him, he cleared his throat, and they glanced toward him in unison. Amelia did not offer her usual lovely smile as greeting. Instead, she scowled at him. “Scarsdale, as the host of the ball, you really should be out amongst your guests and not secluded in the billiard room.”

Nathan crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “I’m not secluded. My cousin and your brother are with me. I made it perfectly clear to you that I would host the ball but not linger amongst the guests.”

“Botheration,” Amelia grumbled. “All the trouble I went to help you and you refuse to cooperate!”

“Help
me
?” He raised an eyebrow at her, a suspicion forming, fueled by the smirk on Aversley’s face. Nathan furrowed his brow. “I was under the impression, given what
you
told me, that I was helping you raise money to fund a shelter for homeless children.”

Amelia nibbled on her lip as a blush stole over her cheeks. “You were. I mean, you are. But I confess I had hoped to help you meet a nice lady tonight.”

“I know plenty of nice ladies,” he taunted.

Amelia pursed her lips. “Not
those
kinds of ladies, who you really cannot call ‘ladies’ at all. I’m speaking of the kind who want to give you more than their bodies for pay.”

“Who says I pay?” Amelia was the only lady he would ever banter with this way. She was his closest friend’s wife, yes, but she was different. She was a lady all the way through, but she could joke, laugh, and exchange barbs with razor-sharp wit. And she did it better than most gentlemen could.

“Do be serious,” she scolded. “You know perfectly well I’m referring to you meeting a lady with whom you could fall in love.”

Before Nathan could respond, Aversley spoke. “I told Amelia it would take more than a ball in your home to bring you out of your cave.”

Nathan frowned. “My what?”

“Your refuge, Scarsdale,” Amelia said, then scooted around him, dragging her husband with her.

“Where are you going?” Nathan demanded.

“To hold my brother accountable,” she retorted, barging into the billiard room.

When he entered the room after her, he motioned between his cousin and Amelia, whom she had not met yet as Ellison had been in Bath for the last year getting treatments on his leg. “May I present my cousin, Mr. Hughbert Ellison. Ellison, this is the Duchess of Aversley, and you already know her lesser half.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Ellison,” Amelia said before glaring at her brother. “Honestly, Philip. Your only job was to ensure Scarsdale stayed at the ball.”

“He
is
at the ball, sister dear.”

“Being ensconced in the billiard room does not count as being present at the ball,” she complained. “How is he supposed to meet a nice lady in here with you?”

Nathan caught Aversley’s gaze and shot him a glare for going along with his wife’s ridiculous ploy. Aversley simply splayed his hands as if he’d been helpless to do otherwise. Shaking his head, Nathan strolled over to the sidebar and poured himself three fingers of brandy while Amelia harangued her brother and Harthorne tried to deflect his sister’s irritation. Nathan could intervene, but it served Harthorne right for trying to dupe him.

As he was about to put the lid back on the crystal decanter, Harthorne gave him a pleading look. Nathan poured a second glass, then strode toward the arguing siblings and handed the drink to Harthorne before facing Amelia. “When I want to find a lady to marry, I’ll simply announce my intention. I assure you plenty of greedy debutantes will trip over one another to marry me for my money and titles, so you can quit worrying that I will die alone.”

Amelia arched her eyebrows high as her mouth pressed into a thin line. “I have no doubt you’re correct, though it baffles the mind, really, why women would be such nitwits as to marry a man who clearly does not yet understand what it means to love someone.”

“I understand perfectly what it means,” he corrected. “I simply want no part of it.”

“You don’t mean that!” Amelia exclaimed.

“I never say things I don’t mean, Amelia. Ask your husband.”

She turned to Aversley and he nodded. “Sad, but true.”

“Setting that little fact aside,” she huffed, “I’m not worried you’ll die alone, I’m worried you will spend your life lonely.”

“I do not get lonely,” he replied.

She frowned. “You’ve been telling yourself that lie for so long now that you have convinced yourself it’s the truth.”

Nathan took a sip of his drink, contemplated what she said, and dismissed it at once. She was a woman; therefore, emotions ruled her thoughts.
He
was a logical man. “I hate to disappoint you, but I have no desire to attain someone’s love.”

“You cannot be serious!” Amelia cried.

“If you had known my mother you would not say that,” he said, then flinched as his words registered in his mind. This was exactly why he avoided personal conversations. Once one was knee-deep in them, emotions took over and one tended to reveal too much. He cleared his throat. “I’ll eventually marry because I have to in order to carry on my line, but when I do pick a bride, I will do so carefully, after I am certain she meets all my requirements.”

Tilting her head, Amelia peered up at him. “Goodness, you sound as if you think picking a wife is like choosing a horse.”

“That about sums it up.”

She shook her head. “You are worse off than I imagined. You’re utterly trapped.”

By God, he knew he shouldn’t ask but he was intrigued by what she thought was trapping him. “What is it you think has me ensnared?”

“Oh, that’s simple. Fear. You are deathly afraid of allowing yourself to want love.”

“Wrong,” he replied. “I cannot be bothered with love. I fear nothing.”

Amelia gazed at him as if she was contemplating what he’d said before she spoke. “That’s drivel,” she stated. “Of course, I don’t know for certain why you fear love. Shall I take a guess?”

Nathan clenched the glass in his hand. He hated talking about personal matters, but he saw no graceful way to exit this discussion without hurting Amelia. Abruptly, he turned to Aversley. “Is your wife always like this?”

“Indeed. It’s quite entertaining, I assure you. You should be so lucky as to find a woman like Amelia.”

“Thank you, darling.” Amelia fairly purred at her husband but her eyes were locked on Nathan, and damn if they didn’t hold a knowing look. The way the lady stared, as if disassembling his personal thoughts, was disconcerting. She took her husband’s arm while still looking at Nathan. “You have a kind heart.”

“Who told you that lie?”

“I’ve seen it with my own two eyes,” Amelia snapped. “You helped Colin and I come together.”

“One moment of weakness.”

She huffed at him. “You danced with Miss Benson when not a single gentleman would even speak with her.”

“One moment of insanity.”

“Men!” Amelia growled and scanned the room. Her gaze fastened on Ellison, who blushed deeply, as he always did when a beautiful woman looked at him. Nathan wished there was some way he could give his cousin more confidence, but he was at a loss as to how to do it. His efforts always seemed to make matters worse, not better.

Amelia gestured to Ellison. “I wager your mother would agree that Scarsdale needs a wife.”

Ellison shook his head. “That would not be a good wager.” His words slurred slightly, betraying his state. Amelia gave him a pitying look that Nathan was sure would set Ellison off again, but his cousin didn’t seem to notice and continued speaking. “She doesn’t take the usual view that Scarsdale has to marry. She only nags me about that.” He poked himself in the chest.

“She doesn’t wish Scarsdale to find a wife?” Amelia’s voice rang with surprise.

Nathan shook his head. “My aunt encourages me to take my time and remain a bachelor as long as I deem necessary,” he offered, not allowing his tone to reveal what he knew to be true. His aunt didn’t push him to marry because she was worried she would have to move out of the dowager house if he took a wife. The only reason he allowed his awful aunt to remain there at all was because Ellison wished her with him. And he would grant his cousin whatever he could to make up for convincing him to climb into that carriage that fateful night so many years ago.

“I wish my own mother would be less concerned,” Harthorne said.

“Take her concern where you can get it,” Nathan automatically responded.

When Harthorne gave him a strange look, Nathan froze. Damn if he hadn’t spoken without thought again. He was not himself tonight.

“Speaking of Mother,” Ellison said, saving Nathan from having to explain the unexplainable outburst, “I almost forgot that she wants to ask you a favor before we leave for the night.” He finished his sentence with a loud hiccup.

Nathan frowned at both Ellison’s behavior and the idea of mingling with all the vain and insipid people in his ballroom. “I’m not venturing out there again. Too many unmarried debutantes.” He eyed Amelia. “I did not have a hand in creating the guest list.”

Amelia narrowed her eyes at his statement, making his lips twitch upward.

When she scowled at him, he chuckled and addressed his cousin. “So, Ellison, what does Aunt Harriet need?”

“She was told of a horse breeder in Newmarket that trains horses for people with...” His words trailed off as he patted his leg. “She’s convinced that if the man is legitimate, I will be able to learn to ride again.”

Nathan wanted to curse his aunt for continuing to push Ellison when his cousin was so obviously scared to remount a horse. And Nathan wanted to curse himself for crippling his cousin in the first place.

“Excuse us,” Nathan said and led his cousin near the window and away from everyone so he wouldn’t feel more embarrassment than he probably already did. “Do you want this, Ellison? If you do, I’ll be happy to go, but if not, I’ll refuse Aunt Harriet’s request.”

Ellison shrugged. “If it will make Mother happy, even for a brief moment, then I want it.”