Strictly Forbidden (19 page)

“Indeed.” She raised her chin, refusing to let Lady Perfection get the better of her.
“Our nuptials will take place in a bit over a week.”

“I see,” murmured the lady. Not
I wish you felicitations
or even
c
ongratulations,
Kira noted.

How could Gavin marry such a woman? She was haughty and lacking in verve. A life with
her would only encourage Gavin toward his naturally reserved tendencies. Certainly
Kira could not see the pale beauty making him laugh. Still, a simple glance at Lady
Litchfield revealed years of good grace and generations of genteel breeding. Such
a lady would never tolerate scandal, much less incite it. If Gavin wed her, he would
do so because he made the choice with his head.

The stubborn man would be better off to think with his heart.

“Excuse me.” Without further preamble, Lady Litchfield excused herself from the small
group and made her way to Aunt Caroline.

Kira folded her hands before her. All about her, people began to whisper. Lord, she
would pay money to be tangled in a bush full of thorns—as long as the bush was far
away from London.

“And Lord Westland,” Maddie said to Kira’s uncle, ending the awkward lull, “this is
Kira Melbour—
”
With a puzzled frown, Maddie glanced at the earl. “You’ve the same surname. Forgive
my lack of knowledge, but are you related?”

The vise of tension in Kira’s stomach tightened unbearably. Would her uncle claim
she and her brother? Or cut them because of their mixed blood?

Nearly choking on insecurity, Kira looked at the tall lord. The earl looked so painfully
like her father, yet he possessed no laugh lines or merriment in his blue eyes, only
gray hair and a sour scowl. His proud expression left her little hope that he would
speak to she and Darius.

“Indeed,” Gavin said into the silence.

Kira looked at him, utterly stunned. He sent her a nearly imperceptible nod.

“They are your brother’s children, are they not?” he said to her uncle. “Their relation
to you would explain their congeniality and talent.”

The earl could not gracefully refuse to acknowledge them, not without renouncing Gavin’s
compliment. It was as if
he had come to her rescue. A smile rushed to Kira’s face. Warmth lit a bit of happiness
in her belly. Suddenly, she was certain she and Gavin were friends
,
and she was quite glad.

“I believe you are correct, your grace.” The earl held his back so erect, Kira wondered
that it didn’t shatter.

Still, he made no overture to continue the introduction.

Gavin regarded her uncle with faint displeasure. “I understand from Miss Melbourne
that you have never had the pleasure of meeting. Let now be the time to change that
unfortunate circumstance.”

“Yes, let it,” agreed Maddie, seemingly unaware of the undercurrents around her.

The earl said nothing for long moments as he scrutinized both Kira and Darius. She
held her breath, hoping for acceptance, but fearing a public rebuff.

Finally, the earl held out his hand to her brother. “It is good to finally meet you,
Darius.”

“My lord.” Her brother took her uncle’s hand.

“Are you engaged in a profession?”

“I fancy the idea of studying law.”

Her uncle frowned. “If you change your mind and decide to enter the military, call
upon me. I have connections.”

As invitations went, her uncle’s was not the most gracious, but it was something of
an olive branch. Kira cast an excited gaze to her brother.

“And you, young lady,” he
r
uncle growled.

Kira turned wide eyes in his direction. “You’re to be married soon to his grace’s
clergyman cousin?”

“I am.”

With a sharp glance, the older man took her measure. “In light of your circumstances,
that will be acceptable. Where is your father?”

The venom in his final question took Kira aback.

“No,” her uncle broke in. “Do not tell me. He is traveling.”

Kira did not like his tone, but answered, “Yes, my lord.”

Her uncle’s mouth pinched with disapproval. “Of course.”

Relief flooded Kira when dinner was announced, saving her from the urge to defend
her father. Everyone entered the dining room in a careful procession, denoted by rank
and importance. That left Kira and Darius at the back.

She did not speak to her uncle again that night, but over the elegant linen-draped
table laden with Wedgwood china, a silver soup tureen, and more than twenty symmetrically-arranged
covered dishes, Kira caught her uncle’s gaze. And he nodded. She wondered if it might,
perhaps, be the beginning of a familial relationship. If so, it seemed she had, at
least in part, Gavin to thank for it.

* * * *

The next morning, Gavin locked himself in the library to escape Aunt Caroline’s haranguing.
Not only had the party gone very ill, according to her, he was entirely to blame.
How had he allowed the Melbournes to leave their place against the wall and what had
possessed him to introduce them to the very proper Lord Westland?

Good question. Sighing, Gavin rubbed his tired eyes, then let his gaze drift over
row after row of books his family had spent generations collecting. It did not distract
him.

Why had he introduced Kira to her uncle
and made it impossible for the man to cut her? Pity, he was sure. Yes, that and a
soothing of his conscience. If Lord Westland accepted Kira, then she would have someone
of consequence to fall back on after Gavin succeeded in seducing her out of her engagement
to James. And if Kira could rely upon her uncle, then he would know that she would
never be completely without support. Besides, her uncle’s influence might settle her,
prevent the behavior that had earned Kira such a scandalous reputation. If he took
her in, the Earl of Westland would never allow her to compromise herself so that a
man other than her husband knew the landscape of her body, down to the last birthmark.
At the time, the introduction had been an impulse, but Gavin really believed it had
worked out for the best.

A hesitant knock on the door brought his gaze to the other side of the room. “Yes?”

The latch lifted and Kira entered a moment later, quietly sensual, utterly beautiful
,
and devastating to his peace. He rose to his feet.

“May I speak with you?” she asked.

He wanted to brood in peace. No, that wasn’t true
. H
e wanted to divest Miss Melbourne of her clothing and touch every soft, vanilla-scented
inch of her. Bloody hell, he had to start thinking about something else. And he would
,
hopefully soon.

“Of course. Come in.”

Golden sunlight filtered into the room through a trio of east windows, bathing her
in their warmth as she crossed the room with grace, despite looking somewhat tentative.
Did he make her nervous? Obviously, but did he frighten her? Or was she simply aware
of him as a man? A gaze into her prettily flushed face and furtive gaze suggested
the latter. His observation raised two questions
:
W
hy would a woman of her worldly experience carry on like an innocent unless it was
meant to ensnare a man? And how was he to prevent his mind from straying to the intimate
exchange they could be having, rather than the verbal one she had in mind?

“I do not mean to interrupt, Gavin.”

Normally, he did not appreciate interruptions when he read. Somehow, he did not mind
Kira. “Not at all.”

She smiled, and his heart picked up speed, just like a bloody schoolboy’s.

“I wanted to thank you for last night. Because of you, I am very hopeful that my uncle
will come to accept Darius and me, despite
my mother.”

Gavin frowned at the wealth of pain in her statement. Her reluctance to speak of her
mother had never been more obvious.

“It was nothing,” he said absently. His mind was far more occupied with what she did
not say. “Kira, tell me. Where is your mother now?”

Kira shrugged, but the question clearly disturbed her. “I’m not certain. In Persia,
likely in the Zagros Mountains. She says that is her favorite place on earth.”

The wistful, yearning note in Kira’s voice alarmed Gavin. “When did you last hear
from her?”

Kira hesitated. “It’s been some years now. I imagine that she’s busy with friends
and family there. We’re… no longer close” She sighed, then sent him an artificially
bright smile. “Perhaps I shall return to Persia and see her someday.”

“You’ve traveled there?” Gavin leaned in, stunned. He knew from James that her mother
had lived here in England but returned home some years ago. He’d never imagined that
Kira’s mother had taken her daughter with her.

“Indeed, as a child I lived there. Darius may not remember a great deal. He was but
seven when my father brought us back to England.”

“But you remember?”

“I do. Persia is
quite different from England. It looks much simpler from the outside. Inside, it’s
very complex.”

Her words fascinated him. Her words… and her. “It is mostly desert, is it not?”

“Mostly, but it was like paradise at times, though cold in the winter. I remember
the snow.”

“Snow? I am surprised.” His face showed that as well. “And what of the people?”

“They are the same as the English in many ways. They love family and think religion
very important. Boys are educated while most girls learn little. But some things are
vastly different. The religion, the manner in which women dress, even the architecture.
My mother’s people are merchants so we lived as nomads. I was quite young when I resided
there, but I recall it being very dissimilar.”

Kira ceased abruptly. Gavin watched her as she pressed her plump berry lips together
and looked down at her long-fingered hands, which lay carefully in her lap. She was
self-conscious. Of her Persian heritage?

“Do you miss being there?” He wondered if he might induce her to return. It would
certainly solve his problem with James.

Still, he hoped like hell that she would say no.

“At times, I suppose. The stark beauty of the land is nothing like England and her
gardens. It seems easier to hear yourself think when you’re surrounded only by the
sun and sand and nature’s creatures eking out their existence from the land. Few in
Persia worry about the next social event or possessing the perfect dress for such
an occasion.”

“But do you wish to return?”

Something crossed her face, wistfulness, maybe. Pain, yes. Finally she swallowed and
fixed him with an arranged smile. “No.”

That was all, simply no. No explanation, no rationale. Gavin frowned, sensing a wealth
of Kira’s feelings in that decision. Though he really had no reason to wonder what
they were—after all, knowing her feelings about Persia would not aid in his seduction—curiosity
ate at him incessantly.

Yes, and look what curiosity had done to the cat…

Still, he could not stop. Why would such a beautiful girl with such a pleasing manner
be so easy with her favors? Even with her heritage and distant claim to peerage, her
comeliness alone would have won her many offers. Did she, like Gavin himself, have
a streak of lust running hot and thick through his veins?

Disturbed by the notion, he changed the subject. “Perhaps you and your uncle will
meet again soon.”

She smiled, this time something far more genuine. “Perhaps. Though he and my father
still have their differences, I like to believe there’s a brighter future with that
branch of the family.” She sighed. “Anyway, I’ll leave you to your reading. I merely
wanted to thank you.”

Kira glanced up at him through the thick fringe of her black lashes with eyes both
indigo-bright and soft
,
and so seemingly pure. The sight transfixed him. She transfixed him, damn it. Every
day in her presence he wanted her more, felt less in control. He even bloody liked
her more. Clearly, that made him a mad idiot.

Or, worse, that made him his father’s son.

And if he didn’t know better, he’d swear upon his family honor that she was as virginal
as the day she’d been born.

But
he
did
know better.

“I did very little,” he muttered roughly, disturbed by the turn of his thoughts.

Her indulgent smile enraptured his senses. She touched his arm gently. Even that brief
contact sent his blood on a rampage.

“You’re far too modest. In the future, you may find you did me a great service, for
which I shall always be grateful.”

Gavin watched Kira retreat. The sway of her willowy body, the line of her narrow back,
the grace of her step, the slope of her jaw—and he could not forget her mouth—all
reminded him that it wasn’t her bloody gratitude he wanted, much to his dismay.