Sari Robins - [Andersen Hall Orphanage] (12 page)

A
s the carriage slowed to a crawl, the clatter of the horses’ hooves and the grind of the turning wheels quieted. The muffled street sounds echoed inside Edwina’s coach.

“We must be getting close to the Vaughns’ house,” Edwina murmured with a nervous glance out the partially covered window. The lamp outside cast a shadow across her pale face, making her seem even more ethereal than before.

“We have a few moments, yet,” Prescott reassured, peering out the window and identifying the scenery. “We’re only at Argent Street. The line is quite long this time of night.”

She swallowed and exhaled slowly, her hands clutching her fan before her as if it were an anchor and she an unsteady ship. “I must confess, I’m not looking for
ward to being announced. Or making our way down that long staircase…”

“Oh, I have a plan for dealing with that…”

She raised a brow. “You have a plan?”

“You’re not the only one who can hatch a scheme, my lady,” he teased.

“Yes.” Her tone was sober. “But will mine succeed?”

“You’ve had no word from the blackmailer, I presume?”

“Nay. I would have told you. Yet, I can’t help but feel that he’s out in Society, watching and waiting for his next opportunity to cause harm.”

“Let us hope he is, so we can spy his François Millicent shoes.”

Again, Prescott wondered at the secret the blackmailer was holding over her head. Suddenly an image of Cat rose up in his mind. It still stung that she didn’t love him enough to confide in him and share her terrible plight. Yet, sitting across from him in the carriage sat Edwina, a woman who’d sought him out in facing her troubles. What did Edwina Ross see in him that Cat hadn’t?

Pushing aside the useless musings, Prescott forced himself to focus on his distraction, the intriguing Edwina Ross. He’d wanted an opportunity to see if the mystery of Edwina’s kiss was real. What was he waiting for, a written invitation?

“It’s funny, actually,” Edwina murmured.

“What?”

“Ever since my husband died I’ve sworn never to remarry, and yet here I am, about to don the nuptial yoke once more.” Suddenly realizing how that might sound,
Edwina felt the need to add, “I just meant to the outside world. I
know
it’s not real.”

Edwina pressed her lips together, praying she wouldn’t say anything else so stupid. Lord, she was nervous. And her nerves certainly weren’t helped by being alone in a small space with Prescott for the last fifteen minutes. And she wished he’d stop shooting her those searing glances that made her belly flip in the most stirring manner.

“It’s quite warm in here, isn’t it?” she asked breathlessly.

“It feels good to me.” His rumbling voice roused her heart to quicken.

Oh how the man practically oozed charm, and he’d hardly been trying. What would happen when he was acting the attentive fiancé? He would only be pretending, of course. But just the idea of clutching his well-muscled arm, moving about with him on the dance floor, thigh pressed to thigh…

“What’s wrong?” Prescott asked.

“Ah, nothing. Why do you ask?”

“You whimpered as if something ailed you.”

“I’m fine.” She looked away. Thank heavens he couldn’t read her thoughts. If he could…

She’d spent hours going over that kiss again and again, like a song that she couldn’t get out of her head. The brush of his lips to hers, how she clung to his broad chest, his muscled thigh pressing between her legs…As her fiancé would he…?

There will be no kissing! Sir Geoffrey, think of Sir Geoffrey!

Prescott leaned forward. “You’re frowning. Pray tell me, what’s bothering you, Edwina?”

“I, ah, I was just…” Think, Edwina, think! “…musing on what a terrible actress I am and…wondering if you have any tips for me.” She swallowed. “Do you, ah, have any advice as to how it is appropriate for me to act tonight?”

“Well, I suppose the best thing to do is to follow my lead and do as I say.”

Edwina straightened. “Just because I’m a bit green at pretenses doesn’t mean I’m about to hand over the reins, so to speak.”

“I’m not being arrogant, Edwina. It’s all about the plan.”

Pressing her hands together before her, she pursed her lips. “How so?”

“You’re supposed to be in love with me, right?”

“Yes. But that doesn’t mean I become your lapdog.”

“Look, Edwina. A woman in love typically behaves in one of three fashions.” He raised three fingers, ticking them off. “Either she purposefully ignores her lover to keep the relationship secret or in an attempt to manipulate him. Or she publicly flouts her lover’s wishes, again, in an attempt to manipulate him. Or she does everything in her power to please her lover, because his pleasure gratifies her, or again, she wishes to manipulate him.”

“There’s certainly a lot of manipulation going on,” she muttered under her breath, as her irritation quieted. He wasn’t trying to order her about, and there was a certain ring of truth to his depictions. She’d definitely seen enough of such tactics between her mother and father.

“Women can’t help it; it’s second nature.” He shrugged one of those burly shoulders as if it was obvious.

“What? Manipulation? On that point, we must disagree. But I do see how ignoring you won’t further the plan. And flouting you…well, I’m hardly a decent enough actress to behave in such a hotheaded manner. Aside from the fact that it goes against my very nature to be so foolish.”

“Nay.” His teeth flashed white in the darkness. “I don’t see you as one for melodramatic episodes.”

She nodded, gratified. “I should certainly hope not.”

“You’re more one for a ripping good tongue-lashing, I’d think. Straight across the bow.”

“If you are intimating that I am straightforward, then I’ll have to concur.” Snapping open her fan, Edwina fluttered it about her face and assumed a good-humored censorious tone. “As for the proper tongue-lashing, you only get one if you deserve it.”

“Promises, promises,” he teased.

His smile across the coach felt like a warm blanket settling over her and she couldn’t help but grin in return. Heavens, she couldn’t believe she was flirting,
and enjoying it
!

The carriage swayed to a stop and Prescott turned to peer out the window. His handsome face was cast in silhouette. Edwina’s heart skipped a beat; he was so lovely to behold, no wonder so many didn’t notice his other attributes. It was difficult to see past that shiny auburn hair, the easy smile…those deliciously sensual lips…

Edwina’s hand rose to her mouth, where the remembrance of his kiss still lingered.

No more thinking about that kiss! Sir Geoffrey! Sir Geoffrey! She dropped her hand and folded her fingers
together in her lap. “Aside from following your lead, are there any particular…gestures, physical actions that a woman in love uses when she is with her…ahem…the man?”

Slowly his head bobbed. “That’s a very astute point. I would say…looking at her lover frequently. Not in a terribly overt way. More like stolen glances and such.”

“Stolen glances.” She nodded. “I can do that. Anything else?”

“Nearness. Standing, sitting and the like, just a bit too close for what’s appropriate. And leaning, of course.”

“Leaning?”

“Here, let me show you.” Rising from his seat, he set aside his cane and sat beside her, his nearness causing a delicious flutter in her middle. She forced herself not to move away.

Pretense,
she reminded herself.
He’s pretending for the plan.

“Look up at me.” Gently he lifted her chin with his finger.

She swallowed, meeting his gaze. Seeing the passion blazing within his eyes, her belly flipped.
He’s an astoundingly good actor.

“Now lean.”

“Lean?” She hated the breathless quality to her voice, but knew she could hardly help it; the man was practically on top of her.

“Like this.” Releasing her chin, he cupped her shoulders and gently drew her closer. “It’s a slight tilt from the waist.”

“But one wouldn’t…”
Kiss.
“I mean this is so very public…”
To kiss.
“It would be scandalous…”
To steal
a kiss.

“Remember.” His voice was deep, throaty. “There is always the promise between lovers.”

“Of what?” Her voice was barely a whisper.

“A kiss.” Prescott’s head lowered, so close Edwina could almost taste his cognac-scented breath.

This wasn’t happening, it couldn’t be. Prescott couldn’t want…

A memory of Sir Geoffrey reared in her mind. Her husband had pulled back from her, exclaiming, “Just stop it! Stop it, I say! This is unpleasant for the both of us, so why don’t we just dispense with this nonsense?”

“Non…nonsense?” she’d asked, her lips still stinging from where his teeth had smashed.

“This business is unnecessary between man and wife.”

“Business? You mean kissing?” Disappointment had shafted through her; kissing had been one of the activities she’d been dreaming about enjoying once she was married.

He’d turned away from her then. “Don’t speak like a harlot.”

She’d stiffened, defensive. “You’re my husband, for heaven sakes. There’s nothing wrong—”

“What’s ‘wrong’ is how you do it,” he’d interjected, his tone scathing. “You don’t know what you’re doing and it makes it, well, to be frank,
disgusting.
If you try to do it again, I fear I won’t be able to look at you in that way ever again. Do you want that? Do you?”

“No,” she’d whispered, tears of humiliation burning the backs of her eyes. To repulse him so, she had to be the most terrible kisser on the face of the planet.

The scent of cognac brought Edwina back to reality.

Prescott’s head lowered.

Edwina gasped, rearing back.

He released her. “Is my touch so abhorrent to you, my lady?”

“No…of course not.”

“Then why do you jump as if I’m a leper?”

She swallowed, hating the hurt she heard in his voice. “It’s not you. It’s me.”

Moving to sit on the opposite bench, he crossed his arms. “I’ve used that line and know how absurd it really is.”

“It’s just, I’m not like the other ladies of your acquaintance,” she replied lamely. “I’m just not.”
The other ladies didn’t repulse the men they wanted to entice.

“You said that already.” His tone was derisive. “In the woods.”

Her mind scrambled as her cheeks burned. “Ah…what I meant was, this is a nasty business and if we’re to handle it well, then we need to treat it like a business.”

“Like a business?” His contempt was palpable, filling the small carriage with its heat, making Edwina so uncomfortable she shifted in her seat.

“Yes. We’re partners, so to speak, and need to maintain our business integrity. To keep us clearheaded. Keep our eyes on the target.” Was she babbling? She never babbled. “Maintain our focus.”

“This is what you want? For the two of us who are supposed to be engaged to behave like business partners?”

“Yes.” She swallowed. “It’s for the best.”

“What utter rot. But if it’s what you want, very
well then.” Adjusting his hat and slinging his cane under his arm, he leaned over and grabbed the door handle.

“What are you doing?” she cried as the carriage pitched forward.

“Getting out.”

Panic overcame Edwina. “But we’ve not yet arrived!”

With the carriage still rolling, Prescott stood and opened the door. His anger was still perceptible, pulsing off him in waves.

“We’ve not even stopped!”

With the door partially opened, Prescott studied the passing street. “You didn’t want to be announced. Or have to come down the main stairs. So we will go this way. It’s part of my plan. Unless my
business partner
has a problem with it?”

He’d said “we.” He wasn’t deserting her. But he wanted her to leap from a moving carriage? Was this some sort of reprisal?

The coach slowed and gently rolled to a halt.

Turning, he held out his gloved hand. “My lady?”

Her heart was racing and her mouth dry from anxiety. He was the one taking liberties, so why did she feel so guilty? Because she’d hurt him and hadn’t meant to. Oh, how she wished she’d handled things better! It was all such a bloody mess, making Edwina feel like a fish out of water. A feeling she despised.

“We don’t have all night,” he ground out.

Well, the carriage wasn’t exactly moving, but it certainly could…And there were no footmen to set a stool or lend a hand. “But what of my driver and my
footmen?”

“I’ll have a word with them when we alight. They’ll be happy to join their waiting comrades with the other coaches sooner rather than later.” He waited, his gloved hand still extended. “Are you coming with me or not?”

Did she trust him? Was she willing to follow Prescott Devane?

Hesitantly she placed her hand in his.

S
till holding Edwina’s hand, Prescott bounded out the door in one fluid motion and down to the cobblestoned street. Then, without missing a beat, he reached for her, grasping her about the waist and lowering her to the ground as if she were lighter than cotton. He promptly released her, stepping over to speak with her driver.

“Oh.” Edwina was so disoriented, it took her a moment to catch her breath. Never in her life had she exited a carriage in such a fashion.

Edwina could hardly overhear Prescott’s exchange with her driver Joseph as she willed her erratic heartbeat to slow. Joseph nodded to Prescott, tipped his hat to her and then called to the horses. The carriage peeled away from the line of coaches heading toward the Vaughns’ residence.

Prescott re-joined her and extended his arm. “Ready,
my lady?” His tone was tight with contained anger. Her guilt flared, and along with it, a whisper of disquiet at trusting herself to someone so cross with her.

She tried to ignore the flutter in her middle as she nodded. “Uh, yes, of course.”

He guided her away up to the curb and together they walked along the line of coaches waiting to pull up at the Vaughns’ house. Pools of light shined on the sidewalk from the windows above as they passed the houses lining the street. The odors of pine, horse, leather and manure permeated the evening air.

Prescott’s silence was like a vise, causing Edwina’s chest to ache with guilt and worry. Were her plans in disarray before they’d even begun? But word of the engagement had already spread and it was too late to stop now. Aside from the dowager’s visit, Edwina had fielded two calls from disbelieving friends already. And Ginny needed them. But how to repair the damage with Prescott?

“Ah, I didn’t mean to offend you, Prescott,” Edwina murmured. “I just, well, the ruse of the engagement only needs to be employed when we’re in public.”

“Perhaps I thought you could use the practice.” His tone was sardonic.

Reminded of the shame of Sir Geoffrey’s rejection, she bristled. “How dare you? I’m a widow! I was married!” Her voice pitched with anger, far preferable to the guilt. “Just because your morals are looser than a courtesan’s ties doesn’t mean that the rest of the world suffers your lack of principles!”

By the light from the window, hurt flashed in his emerald gaze, quickly veiled. He stopped short. And then something indefinable changed within him.

He straightened. His shoulders squared. His face darkened. His jaw set into a determined line. Any sense of languor fell away, leaving a fierce, determined man to be reckoned with.

Releasing her, Prescott turned to face Edwina. The impression of a lion hit Edwina full force, but now, she finally realized, that this was not a beast to be caged or handled, and certainly not to be toyed with. She had to resist the urge to step back.

“I can be insulted by hundreds of others,” he growled, towering over her. “I needn’t suffer it from you.” He moved to step past her.

“Wait!” she cried, placing a hand on his arm.

Shrugging her off, he headed in the opposite direction from the Vaughns’ residence.

Grabbing her skirts, Edwina dashed in front of him, blocking his course. She pressed her hands to his chest and held firm. It was like pushing a stone balustrade.

He froze. Then, with frightening intensity, he glared down at her hands. “I thought you couldn’t stand my touch.”

“Please, just give me a moment to explain.”

It seemed there was some semblance of benevolence left within him because, thank heavens, he didn’t move. He stood, arms slightly raised by his sides, legs apart, body squared, reminding Edwina of a boxer ready for a brawl. Slowly, she stepped back as her mind scrambled for some way to repair the damage.

“I…I’m sorry,” she murmured. “What I said…I didn’t mean it and it was uncalled for.”

Her apology was met by the sounds of carriage wheels and horses as they moved past.

She swallowed. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“How can a lowly orphan like me be offended? Aren’t we made of gingerbread?” His tone was derisive, referencing the old children’s tale.

The hollow pit of shame sank deeper in her belly. “You surprised me, that’s all.” She shook her head. “I know…I realize now…that you didn’t mean to kiss me. Not for real. You were only helping with the ruse.” She looked away. “And I probably actually do need the practice.”

With her heart racing with anxiety, she waited for some semblance of a response. But nothing came. He stood there as if carved from stone.

Hesitantly, she looked up and met his gaze. Those emerald eyes were like firestorms, barely contained. It took every ounce of Edwina’s self-control not to look away, she was so ashamed. “I implore you to look past my…utter stupidity and continue to help me.”

“Why?”

She blinked. “Why what?”

“If my very presence is so offensive to you, why did you pick me to help you at all? And don’t give me any of your nonsense about being perfect for the job. You knew this plan of yours would require us to pretend to be lovers. Yet you jump at my very touch.”

“I suppose…I suppose I picked you because I
wouldn’t
find your presence offensive.”

A look of derision entered his stormy gaze.

“No, I mean it, Prescott. I respect you and know that I couldn’t pretend otherwise with someone I didn’t.”

“I’ve never heard such bloody poppycock in all my life.” He stepped around her and strode down the street.

“I do respect you!” She rushed to follow, dashing
alongside him. “I respect the fact that you come from humble beginnings but are not ashamed of your past. That you’ve developed a stronger character from the experience.”

Maneuvering so that she didn’t fall down an under-staircase, Edwina bustled alongside him. “I respect the fact that you are working to improve your life, that you make choices and make no excuses for them. You are who you are and make no apology for it.”

Was it her imagination or were his steps beginning to slow?

“I’m impressed by your ability to deal with people, when I feel like I botch up so many of the relationships I care about.”

She licked her lips. “It is because I respect you I feel I can go through this whole charade, plot, ruse, whatever you may call it…with some semblance of…respect for myself. With some sense that I am allied with someone…reliable.”

He stopped short, facing her, anger darkening his handsome features. “Is that how you see me? As reliable?”

Pressing her hand to her chest, she tried catching her breath. “As much more than that…I feel like with you, I’m not so very much…” She swallowed. “On my own.”

“On your own? You’ve a family, money, friends, hell, you have a whole bloody society.”

“Yes, but this blackmail business, it’s all up to me.” Her shoulders sagged with the weight of her worry for Ginny and all that would befall her and Judith if the truth of Ginny’s affair and Judith’s parentage came to light. “If I fail, then…well, it’s all up to me to ensure
that it doesn’t. I feel like a dam holding back an onslaught of water. I’m not strong enough and need your support.”

She pressed her hands together in entreaty. “I need you, Prescott. And yes, you are perfect for the job because you are the only man I can imagine even
pretending
to be engaged to.”

“I suppose I should feel flattered,” he scoffed.

“As far as your touch…well.” She looked away. “I wasn’t lying, I’m not like the other ladies of your acquaintance. I’m not built for…passion. I’m not good at it and don’t know how to handle it.” She winced. “Which is obvious from how poorly I acted in the carriage.”

His brow furrowed. “Not built for passion? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“Well, it’s true. And frankly, I’m a bit embarrassed by it.” She wanted to close her eyes to ward off the mortifying confession, but it was too late now, the truth was out there, bared for Prescott Devane to see.

His mouth opened and closed as if he was going to say something. Then instead, he reached for her, seizing her wrist and drawing her into an alcove eclipsed by darkness.

Gripping her waist, he pulled her close, up against his hard, virile form.

Her heart jumped, her mouth dried. “Ah…what are you doing?”

“Consider it an experiment.”

Then his head lowered and his lips pressed down to hers.

Edwina stiffened, waiting for him to be repulsed.

“This is not a tooth extraction, Edwina.” His lips
softened, teasing her mouth with gentle kisses. “Please try to relax and enjoy it.”

Relax and enjoy it! How could she when she was about to expose herself to the ultimate humiliation?

His hand began to move in little swirls on her back, feeling really, really good. She liked the smell of him, the musk and man and a hint of cognac. His lips were so soft and did the most delicious things to her mouth. Those innocent kisses really were quite nice. She shivered.

Gently his lips urged her mouth open, moist, confident and…not so very innocent anymore.

Hesitantly she parted her lips, tasting cognac and, oddly, cinnamon. It was positively…decadent. A heady delight. Very,
very
nice.

His tongue touched hers. A lightning bolt of desire flashed through her so shockingly she gasped. Before she could think, he pulled her closer, deepening the kiss. His tongue entwined with hers, in a dance so seductively intimate, she groaned, closing her eyes.

His hands drifted to the arch in her back and she felt her body pitch against him. Heat unfurled in her middle and her skin flushed as if bathed in warm water.

His palms lowered to cup her derriere and desire flashed between her thighs, hot, fierce and demanding. Her insides were melting, her body aflame. She clutched him, gripping his shoulders as if never to let him go. Her soft breasts were crushed against his superfine coat and she felt the evidence of his desire pressing against her belly. Nothing had ever felt so fantastic in all her life.

He was like an elixir that melted her from within, molten heat transforming her mind to mush and her body into a puddle of fiery sensation.

Her world collapsed into itself, leaving only the darkness, his fervent embrace, the feel of his tongue gliding over hers, his lips teasing, sucking, flooding her mouth with pleasure as his hard body pressed against hers.

His hand kneaded her bottom, grinding her against him. Her muscles clenched with desire. Beneath her skirts, her legs parted, wanting him, needing him…everywhere.

His hand slid to her side, then glided up to cup her breast in his palm. She gasped for breath and her head fell against his shoulder as her heart raced and her body flamed.

Streams of pleasure coursed from that breast through her veins to every part of her body, making her blaze. Through the thin gown, he kneaded the soft flesh, gently drawing her hard nipple into his fingers and then massaging the tight nub. Her heart was hammering, her breath coming in half gasps, and a liquid heat burned within her as desire pulsed in her womanly core.

She shifted restlessly, wanting—no needing—more of him. Unabashedly, she reached for his face and drew his lips down to hers once more. His mouth was hot, wet, and inspired a hunger in Edwina she’d never known existed.

Suddenly he gripped her arms and pulled away, breathing hard.

“I didn’t mean for it to go so far…” he gasped.

She blinked, her mind muddled, her heart racing and her body still thrumming with desire. “Far…?”

Their panting echoed loudly in the silent alcove.

“So you’re not built for passion, eh?” he gasped as if
having run a long race.

“Oh my heavens.” She blinked. “What the blazes?”

He straightened. “I, my dear Edwina,” he said, a self-satisfied ring to his voice, “just disproved your theory.”

“Smashed it to bits, more like it,” she murmured, dazed with wonderment.

Smiling, he grabbed her hand and pulled her back to the street. “
Now
we can go to the ball.”

“Ball? I think I need to sit down.” Either that or he could haul her back into his arms….

Pulling her into the light, he faced her and fixed her cowl. “There. You look fine. None the worse for wear.”

No worse for wear?
Her world had just been spun on its axis.

Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he grinned like the cat who’d licked the cream. “Come along, Edwina. We have a blackmailer to catch.”

Ginny. How could she forget?

As she trailed alongside him, Edwina could no longer doubt she was in over her head.

But it was too late now; they were headed into the lion’s den.