Emma returned to the sofa and smiled encouragingly at the duke. “You were saying…” Trent straightened his shoulders and tried to recall where he left off. Seeing this, she said, “Never in your life…”
The duke’s sense of humor got the best of him. “Very good, Miss Harlow. I see now why your papa has never managed to teach you manners. Do you always confuse and fluster your
opponents like this?”
Shaking her head, she leaned forward on the cushion. “It was not my intention of confuse you, your grace, and I doubt very much that the Duke of Trent is ever flustered. ’Twas only that you had worked yourself into such a temper I thought surely you must be thirsty. I myself am always thirsty when riled up.”
“No matter,” he said, not convinced but abandoning the point
anyway. “Let me be clear on this, Miss Harlow. You will not approach another libertine and ask him to seduce your sister. It’s not how ladies behave.”
Emma realized that the duke was not going to leave until he got what he wanted. Rather than lose a whole day to argument, she gave it to him. “All right, your grace, I’ll cease and desist at once. Oh, lovely. Tea is here. Set it on the table.
Very good. Thank you, Dobson.”
This answer no more pleased the duke. His brows drew together again in a dark line. “That is it? You agree? Just like that?”
“Yes, the force of your arguments has quite done me in. One lump or two?”
Busy trying to make sense of the girl’s sudden capitulation, the duke didn’t hear the question. “Excuse me?”
“I asked if you wanted sugar in your tea. One lump
or two?”
“One is fine.” He took a deep breath and considered his hostess with suspicion. “Why have you suddenly agreed with me?”
“As I said, I’m quite overcome by the force of your logic,” Emma said, not a hint of condescension in her tone. “Clearly no one has ever explained things to me quite as plainly as you have. I’m in wholehearted agreement. Drawing up lists and propositioning libertines
is not how ladies behave.”
Although they’d met less than a week before, he knew better than to accept her words at face value. “You’re only telling me what I want to hear.”
Emma smiled, dimples in prominence. “And it’s a wonder that you’re no more happy getting what you want than not getting it. Tell me, your grace, what should I do to satisfy you?”
“Say what you mean.”
“I tried that approach,
but it only seemed to anger you more.”
He began to understand her tactic. “Then you have no intention of abandoning your scheme?”
Her eyes were as wide and innocent as a newborn kitten’s. “But why should I? I respect you and sincerely appreciate the concern you seem to feel for me and my family, but my sister’s happiness cannot rest on your autocratic and unreasonable demands.”
Angry words
flitted through Trent’s head, but he held his tongue. A wise man always knew when he had been beaten by a skillful opponent. Miss Harlow had maneuvered him nicely. If his mother or sister knew how to handle him half so well, he would have been married to that Hedgley chit with a brat on the way by now. “Very well, I accept,” he said, not as disturbed by the forthcoming task as he ought to be.
Emma looked at him in surprise. “Accept what, your grace?”
“Your offer of employment. I will play the part of seducer.”
“But you won’t do at all,” she exclaimed.
His expression turned black. “
I
won’t do?”
Fearful that she might have hurt his feelings, she added, “If was very kind of you to offer, but you’re not suited to the task. Of course, I’m well aware the honor you do me, as you’re
extremely handsome and a fine figure of a man and would turn the head of
any
sensible girl.”
“
I
won’t do?” he asked again, seemingly incapable of understanding the prospect that he was unsuitable for any project.
“The scheme calls for a libertine,” she said gently.
“I’m a libertine.”
The Harlow Hoyden laughed.
The duke took offense at her easy dismissal of him. “I am a libertine. You
said so yourself.”
“That was a week ago,” she explained, taking a sip of tea. “I have since learned the truth.”
“What truth?”
“That you’re a true gentleman.”
“The devil you say!” he cried out, much offended by this claim.
“Look at the evidence,” said Miss Harlow and listed his finer points on her fingers. “You refused to help me. You take me to task for meeting with you alone. You offer
to help me with my scheme when you realize you cannot deter me from my path. These are not the actions of a libertine.”
“I keep a dancer in Chelsea.”
“So does my father.”
“I’m in pursuit of a lovely widow.”
“Lady Enderling is old enough to make her own decisions.”
“I bet one hundred pounds at my club that I could seduce the wife of a viscount.”
“That is the way gentlemen behave.”
“The Savoy keeps a supply of garnet broaches on hand for me so that I may give one to whichever lady I am dining with.”
“Pooh. You are a sheep in wolf’s clothing, your grace.” She held up the pot. “More tea?”
Trent didn’t want more tea, and almost seething with anger, he regarded the Harlow Hoyden. As he’d listened to her defend his character, he’d grown more and more enraged. The way she
dismissed his transgressions out of hand was intolerable. The way gentlemen behave! A sheep in wolf’s clothing!
He sat down on the couch next to her, so close he could feel her breathing. Then he grabbed the teapot from her fingers and placed it on the table with so much force that the silver rattled. He pulled her toward him. “I am a hardened rake!” he insisted, before his lips covered her.
It was a rough kiss at first, and Emma didn’t know how to respond. She’d never been kissed before, and although she had many times imagined what the pastime would be like, she’d never expected it to be anything like this, with Trent’s lips pressed so hard against hers that she could scarcely move. But then everything changed. Trent’s lips relaxed and became gentle. He laid soft kisses on the
side of her mouth, and his tongue delicately traced her lips until she opened them in response. Before she knew what she was about, Emma was wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him toward her.
At one point, the duke sought to end the embrace, but Emma moaned in distress and pulled him closer, leaning back on the cushions and taking him with her. She ran her fingers through his hair,
along his neck and down his back. The sensations he was creating with his lips were so overwhelming and unexpected and lovely that she couldn’t think of anything but creating more of them. His hand trailed a slow path down her cheek to her shoulder. Then she felt his hand slip under the soft lawn of her morning gown. She sighed in response and pressed her lips harder against his. What else she wanted
she didn’t know, but she was eager for more. She suddenly realized there was a whole host of wonderful sensations waiting to be discovered and could barely wait to start the adventure.
The Duke of Trent freed himself from her embrace, pulled away and stood up. He walked toward the fireplace and rested one arm on the mantle. “There, I believe that should put an end to the debate.”
For the first
time in her life, the Harlow Hoyden was at a loss for words. She stared at the duke in wonder.
“I will begin my seduction of your sister right away. The sooner we start, the sooner we finish,” he said, thinking,
And the sooner my life will return to normal!
“I trust the Harlow sisters will be at the Kenelm ball?”
Emma could barely think over the loud beating of her heart, but she tried anyway
to pull herself together. What a ninnyhammer she was to be so affected by a kiss. The duke seemed unmoved by the experience, and she sought to emulate his indifference. She took a deep breath and focused on his question. Oh, what was it that he’d asked? Something about the Kenelm ball. “I do not know if we will be in attendance. My brother, Roger, has had a mishap, and Sarah has not been herself
ever since. We’ll only go if she is up to chaperoning us.”
“I hope your brother’s mishap wasn’t too serious,” the duke said, marveling at how fast she’d recovered from that kiss. It seemed unlikely that he, the experienced one, would ever recover from it. Who knew that a lady with so much innocence could be capable of so much passion? Just thinking about it sent his blood soaring again.
“He’s
alive and rapidly returning to health,” she explained. “It happened whilst he was abroad, in France. He should be returned to us within the week. We all take comfort in that.”
“That sounds very serious indeed. Do tell Sarah to let me know if there’s anything I can do,” he said, making polite drawing room conversation, although polite drawing room conversation was the last thing he wanted to
make.
“Of course,” she said, reaching for a teacup but putting it down when she realized her hand was unsteady. She folded both hands together in her lap and hoped the duke hadn’t noticed.
If he did, he gave no indication of it. “Since Sarah will most likely not be up to attending the ball, why don’t I escort you and Miss Harlow? I shall bring my mother along. It will all be very respectable.”
“That is a very gracious offer, your grace, and I gladly accept, assuming your mother has plans to attend. I wouldn’t want to inconvenience her.”
“Don’t tease yourself on that point,” he said, with his charming smile. “Mama hasn’t missed a
ton
event in more than thirty years.”
Emma, staring almost transfixed at his beautiful, skilled lips, had to shake herself free of a daydream before responding.
“Excellent. I shall look forward to it. We’ve stayed very close to home these last few days, and it will be good to get out.”
Suddenly the duke felt as awkward as a schoolboy at his first social function. Several matters had been resolved, and it was clearly time for him to take his leave. But he didn’t want to go just yet. He felt something should be said about what happened—one didn’t just
molest innocent maidens in the front parlor and then retire from the room—but he didn’t know what. His smooth tongue deserted him now when he needed it the most.
Miss Harlow, who was eager to be alone so that she could still her shaking hands in private, stood up. “Your grace, it has been a most interesting morning. Thank you for your call and for your generous offer of help. With your aid,
I’m positive we will have Sir Windbourne routed in no time. No doubt one day my sister will thank you for the service you do her.”
Trent bowed and resisted the urge to kiss her hand. Contact now would be the undoing of him. “Let us proceed with caution and leave your sister’s thanks in the far-off future. I am not as confident as you that what we’re doing is right.”
“Of course you’re not.”
She dimpled. “As I said, you are a gentleman.”
Not wanting to get into
that
again, the duke bid her good day and stepped outside into the brisk March air. What a relief to be out of there, he thought, climbing into the coach. Despite his vehement protests to the contrary, Alexander Keswick, the seventh Duke of Trent, was not a libertine. Playing fast and loose with the affections of an innocent
did not sit well with him. And he didn’t mean Lavinia Harlow. He was confident that a few conversations about raising orchids and a couple of his melting looks that had ensnared so many women before would have her easily under his spell. He didn’t think winning her affections would require any physical contact.
No, Trent was worried about the other Miss Harlow. His behavior today had been quite
out of the ordinary for him. He had never before kissed a well-bred unmarried woman, but the experience had been intoxicating—and quite possibly addictive. It was Emma herself, of course, who made the encounter so heady. He would have to take care in the future. It would not do to lead her on. The Duke of Trent had no intention of marrying just yet, and he didn’t want an innocent mooning embarrassingly
over him.
CHAPTER FIVE
Sarah had no intention
of going to the Kenelms’ ball—until she heard that the girls would be going in Trent’s coach.
“Really, Sarah, there’s no reason to examine me with that look on your face. I assure you the whole enterprise is one hundred percent respectable,” Emma said when questioned on the subject by her sister-in-law. “He and his mama were going to the ball themselves
and are only swinging by here to pick us up. It’s nothing in the least.”
“But I don’t understand why he is ‘swinging by here,’ as you so coarsely put it. We’re several blocks out of his way. Whatever could he be thinking?” she said, tossing her bonnet on the chair beside her. She had barely returned from her daily walk in the square when she learned that the Duke of Trent had been closeted with
her younger charge for more than a half hour.
“Well, if the truth were known,” said Emma in conspirational tones, deciding it was time to put her plan into action. “I think he has developed a
tendre
for dear Lavinia.”
Sarah laughed. “Emma, what a child you are. The duke is not wearing the willow for your sister. While I love her dearly, I know for a fact that she isn’t at all the sort of girl
who attracts Trent. He likes them lively, with a bit of color in their cheeks. Vinnie’s cheeks are pallid.”