Authors: Samantha Holt
“Will you let me view the
records then? Perhaps I could come by?”
She didn’t trust him to get
around to sending them to Broadstone. He clearly didn’t think she had anything
useful to put into the matter.
His brows dipped and he
paused in the middle of the path. “I suppose.”
“It would be much easier
than having them sent here,” she insisted. “You would not need to be present
and I will not make a pest of myself, I promise.”
“I’m sure you would not.”
“I know you don’t think I
can help, but I have a keen eye. I manage all the accounts at Broadstone.
Edward trusted me completely.”
“Edward—” He let out a
frustrated growl and released her arm so as to face her. “Edward was damned
lucky to have you and he knew it. Likely he would have let you do anything you
wish. Honestly, dragging a young girl halfway around the world, what was he
thinking?”
“Edward was a fine man! He
treated me like a grown woman, unlike many people.”
“If you were mine I would
not have made you suffer for the sake of bugs.”
“I thought you admired
Edward’s work!” Indignation made her straighten. How dare he insult her late
husband! How dare he dismiss everything she had done these past seven years!
Lucian paused and seemed to
shake himself. Just the tiniest movement of his tall form. His gaze locked
firmly onto hers and it grew dark. “You deserved better.”
His words rang in her ears.
What game was this? “I was lucky to marry Edward, not the other way around,”
she said quietly. “Many ladies would suffer far worse than what I have to
achieve such a rank, and I did not suffer. I enjoyed travelling and Edward was
kind to me. Do not disparage our match when you know full well no other man would
have had me.”
“Nonsense.”
“You were more attracted to
your horse, was that not what you said?”
“I said I was no more
attracted to you than my horse.”
“Exactly.”
He closed the gap between
them so that their toes were almost touching. A hand came up to grip her arm.
She felt herself being coaxed back.
“I may have been wrong about
that.”
“You
are
attracted to
your horse?” she asked snidely.
“I was wrong about you,
Ellie. I was wrong to speak in such a manner. I regret that night sincerely.”
Eleanor shook her head. “I
don’t believe you feel an ounce of regret. You were happy to continue in your
usual rakish manner with no thought for me. I may have been out of the country
but Mama kept me apprised of your adventures.”
“Just because a man does not
know of any other way to behave, does not mean he doesn’t have regrets. I have
many. You are my biggest.”
She sucked in a breath. What
was he talking of? Was this a ploy? An attempt to charm her and keep her out of
his business perhaps? He leaned over her, forcing her to lift her chin to look
at him. The prickly touch of a bush against her back made her jolt.
A deep ache gathered low in
her body and her skin grew hot. The breeze around them could not be called a gale
of any sorts, yet she felt as though she was caught in a tempest when she
stared at Lucian. Snared in a whirlwind with no escape.
He pressed his chest to hers
and her nipples jabbed against her bodice again. She kept her hands to her
sides and curled her fingers back into the tree to grip the branches. The great
fog that crowded her mind refused to dissipate and her thoughts would not come
free. What was she doing?
“My biggest regret, Ellie,”
he murmured. “How shall I ever redeem myself?”
His lips were tauntingly
close. She still recalled their firm heat upon hers, the shock of them and how
he had tasted of whisky. The roll of desire through her body was familiar too
but at seventeen she hadn’t been aware of what it meant. Now she knew. She
wanted Lucian as a wife wanted a husband and a husband usually wanted a wife.
But Edward had not. He did his duty when he had to but he struggled. She was
simply too bony and plain to entice him, she supposed.
So why did she believe, even
for a moment, that a man like Lucian would find her appealing?
Eleanor released her death
grip on the tree, pulling some of the leaves with her. Many moments longer and
it would be too late. His lips were so close. Would one kiss hurt?
Yes.
“I’m not doing this again.”
She flattened her hands to his chest. “I will not let you do this to me again.
I am not a toy, Lucian. You can’t play games with me.”
Regret shuttered his gaze
but he did not move back. “I know very well this is no game. I would be a fool
to play it if it was. Hell, I am a bloody fool.”
He closed the gap with a
muttered curse.
Rakes Don’t Dance
“Ellie!” a shrill voice rang out.
Lucian jerked his head back.
Ellie remained frozen and he realised his hands had snaked around her waist. When
in the devil had that happened? Her eyes were smoky as she gazed up at him.
Damnation, he really had learned nothing since last time. What was he thinking?
That kissing her might make up for his disgusting behaviour towards her? Or
that it might push her away once more and keep her out of his business for
good?
Either way it was a bad
plan. Yes, he had regrets about what he had done to her. Funny what a near
death experience did to a man. He had reflected on every wrong thing he had
done and though he could not claim to be a changed man or even a remotely
honourable one, he regretted hurting Ellie. Most of his antics had involved
willing women. Ellie had never deserved such treatment.
“Ellie!”
It was the baroness. Bloody
hell, he certainly wasn’t going to let history repeat itself. He dropped his
hands from her waist and saw the dreamy haze snap away. Small lines furrowed
her brow and her lips—those tempting lips like a splash of red wine—pursed in
annoyance.
He had only just stepped
back by the time the older woman’s footsteps sounded nearby. He saw the way
Ellie’s composure snapped into place. Her posture grew regal, her chin lifted.
Outwardly, she appeared serene, but surely she could not be? Not if she was
anything like him.
A raging fire had been
set alight inside him and it would not go out. If it was any other evening, he
might have blamed the wine but he had not indulged yet. He’d been keen to slip
through the ballroom and linger long enough to ensure the hostess had seen his
presence before making himself scarce. He’d never really intended to come, yet
had somehow responded with an affirmative and found himself standing outside
the hall weeks later. And he had certainly not counted on catching her outside
Lucian had enjoyed touching
her though. Far too much. Something very wrong was going on here. Was it the
purple gown and the way the ruffles drew attention to her cleavage or the way
her long body was emphasised perfectly by the cinched waist? Perhaps it was the
artful arrangement of curls that softened her jaw and displayed a graceful
neck.
In fact, the longer he
peered at her, the more he found things to admire. Like the dip of her
collarbone that had a slight sheen right now and the narrowness of her wrists
that he knew his hand could wrap around easily.
When he heard the footsteps
nearly upon them, he offered Ellie his arm. She took it without question and
they strode out onto the main path as if they had been taking a leisurely
stroll.
“Ah, there you are,” the
baroness said breathily. “Your guests are asking after you. And Lord
Rushbourne, how are you? I did not think you had come though we did get your
response.”
“Forgive me, my lady, I was
delayed and didn’t wish to make an entrance. Ellie needed some air, so I
thought it wise to ensure she did not faint.”
“How thoughtful of you.”
Lady Browning’s expression softened and a twinkle entered her gaze.
His insides shrivelled. He
recognised that look. He had been avoiding it ever since he had turned
seventeen. Mothers spotted him and saw a target for which to send their
daughters towards.
“Are you well, my dear?” she
asked Ellie.
“Quite well, Mama. As
Viscount Rushbourne was saying, I had need of some air. It is terribly stifling
in there and I have been dancing the entire evening.”
“You have indeed.” Lady
Browning glanced at him. “She is quite popular with the local gentleman here. I
dare say my little Ellie has gained many admirers tonight.”
Lucian found himself holding
onto Ellie’s arm a little tighter. No doubt they were all angling for a shot at
her wealth. Damn fools. There was more to life than wealth and more to...well,
more to Ellie than that too.
“Will you come in and dance,
my lord?” Ellie’s mother asked as they began their stroll back to the house.
She slipped her arm through his and he was surrounded by Browning women. Lord,
what a fix he had found himself in.
“I seldom dance these days,
my lady.”
“But you will make an
exception for Ellie, will you not?”
“Mama! “ Ellie’s protest
came.
“Of course I shall,” he replied
through gritted teeth. Good Lord, the last thing he needed was more touching,
more staring. He’d had quite enough of Ellie Browning for one night, thank you
very much.
It interested him, however,
how the baroness did not find him as repulsive a prospect as she had when he
had been caught kissing Ellie. He had thought he would be done for. As good as
married. But the parents had insisted on her marrying Edward so as to ‘save’
Ellie from him.
The baroness disengaged her
arm and waved them towards the dance floor. He was surprised she did not shove
him forwards, or better yet, boot him up the arse to ensure he could not back
out. A waltz was starting up. He groaned inwardly. Perfect.
Dancers filled the floor and
Lucian led Ellie out to join them, her gloved hand tucked into his. He
swallowed and felt a trickle of sweat drip down his spine. He’d not danced
since the fire and it seemed all eyes were upon him.
Ellie’s grip tightened on
his hand. He peeked at her to see her throat work and when he brought her into
position, placing his palm on her waist, he noted the frantic flutter of the
pulse in her neck. Much as he would have liked to have thought he could claim
to have that effect on her, from the rigid tension in her body, he strongly
suspected it was nerves.
“Do you not like the waltz?
I thought you enjoyed dancing,” he said quietly before the orchestra started
up.
“Yes, country dances, and
ones where no one was watching me carefully to see me make the wrong moves,”
she replied through clenched teeth.
“No one is watching you
carefully, Ellie. They are all staring at me. I have not attended a ball since
the fire.”
Her eyes widened a little.
“So why attend this one?”
He lifted a shoulder. “It
would have been impolite for me not to.” The words felt hot on his tongue, as
though the lie had scalded him. Yet that had been his reasoning. However, now
he was not sure if he had not wanted the excuse to come and see her.
The music began and so did
the dancers. Lucian found his feet remembered and he swept her easily around
the dance floor. For a while she remained rigid and hard to manoeuvre, like a
stubborn mount, but as she eased into it and began to trust him, her body began
to mould to his and their movements became fluid. By halfway through the dance,
her cheeks had filled with warmth and a sparkle had entered her gaze.
“See? You did not need to
fear.”
“Shhh, I’m concentrating.”
He laughed. “I do not
believe that for a moment. You are a natural.”
“Not normally I am not,” she
confessed.
Did that mean something?
That she became fluid and elegant in his arms? Under the golden light of the
chandeliers, her hair glowed like a halo around her head. Vibrancy and a
youthful shine emanated from her while he grew aware of the small waist under
his palms. He felt the boning of her corset and each rise and fall of her ribs.
She shifted a little closer when the music swelled and they nearly danced into
another couple. Heat radiated between them and if he was not careful he was
going to disgrace himself on the dance floor in front of the entire county.
Damn and blast, what was
happening?
When the dance ended, she
uttered a breathless, “Thank you.”
The surroundings began to
filter in and he noted many sets of eyes were upon them, including eager male eyes.
Deep inside, his gut clenched and annoyance knifed through him. He made a great
show of leading her off the dance floor as though she were his before dropping
a kiss to her gloved fingers.
Ellie’s crimson lips parted
when he did so. A tingle raced through him at the touch of fabric to his lips.
When had he ever been excited by kissing a blasted glove? Christ, it really
must have been far too long. Perhaps it was time to seek out someone to join
his bed for the night—most likely a paid companion, for who else would have him
now?
Ellie?
Pish, not likely. The woman
went rigid in his arms when he tried to kiss her and he could not forget the
damage he had done to her. He wouldn’t make it worse by pursuing her. Besides
which, she was a wealthy, well-travelled widow. From the looks she was
garnering, she had her pick of admirers.
What was the world coming to
when he considered tumbling little Ellie Browning and it looked like half the
male population of Yorkshire did too?
“Thank you, Lucian,” she
said breathlessly. “I enjoyed that.”
“As did I,” he confessed
before he could stop himself.
More warmth entered those
grey eyes. How had he ever thought them dull? But before he could say anything
further, a nearby gentleman requested the next dance from her. Lucian glared at
him and wished for the ability to stare holes into the man’s head, but
apparently he didn’t have such an ability as the man was still standing.
Ellie consented and bid
Lucian good evening, leaving him standing on the edge of the dance floor, powerless
to do anything but seethe as she was swept into another man’s arms. It was no
good. He would have to try harder to rid himself of Ellie and this peculiar
effect she had on him. No more indulging her feminine whims to have some kind
of a say in the mill. No more, he promised himself, as he turned away from the
sight of her beaming smile and another man’s hands upon her.
No more.