To Seduce a Bride (2 page)

As soon as the waltz was over, Lily had extricated herself from his unnerving company.

She intended to leave the ball early in any case, to spend the night with her good friend Tess Blanchard, a genteel young lady who was also a teacher at the Freemantle Academy.

After saying farewell to Arabella and then drinking two more glasses of champagne in quick succession—Lily had needed the libation for fortitude and to hold back her tears of sadness—she made her way to one of the rear stable wings, formerly used for broodmares, to feed Boots and check on her kittens. It was blessedly quiet here, set away from the rest of the yard.

Her head was still swimming from the overindulgence of champagne, along with her potent memories of Lord Claybourne. The feel of him as they'd waltzed—sinewy and powerful, all lithe grace—had uncustomarily flustered her.

“But I trust I will never see him again after t'night,” Lily muttered as she returned the black kitten to the box. “Or at least that I will never again be the victim of Winifred's humiliating mash…
match
making schemes.”

It was then that Lily heard a faint noise from below, like a throat being cleared.

Wondering who had entered the stable, she shifted her position to look over the loft's edge. Her heart skipped a violent beat when she spied the broad-shouldered Marquess of Claybourne leaning against a post, his arms folded, his head cocked to one side.

When her head suddenly started spinning dizzily, Lily drew back in haste.
Oh, dear heaven.
Had he overheard her lament that he was too charming? What other incriminating observations had she made about him?

Holding a hand to her throbbing temple, Lily slowly peered over the side again. “M-my lord, what are you doing here?”

“I saw you leave the ball and wondered why you would visit the stables.”

“You followed me?” Lily asked blankly.

Claybourne gave a bland nod. “Guilty as charged.”

Her eyes narrowed. “So you were shamelessly eavesdropping?”

“I was curious. Do you always talk to yourself, Miss Loring?”

“Sometimes. But in this case I am speaking to the cat…Actually
cats.
Boots the stable cat recently had kittens.”

“Would you care to explain what you are doing up there in the loft?”

“If you mush…must know…I am feeding her.”

“You came here to feed the stable cat?” His tone held surprise and a hint of disbelief.

“Should I have let her starve?” Lily asked rhetorically. “Boots is an excellent mouser, but at the moment she has more important tasks to occupy her, namely taking care of her kittens.”

His handsome mouth quirked. “Do you mean to remain there with the cats?”

“No. I will come down as soon as my head clears. I seem…to have drunk a bit too much champagne.” To her chagrin, she was too dizzy just now to climb safely down the ladder to escape Lord Claybourne's unwanted presence.

“Then you won't mind if I join you,” he said, moving across the aisle to put a foot on the lowest wooden rung.

Yes, she minded! Lily sat up abruptly, wondering how she could prevent him from imposing his company upon her. “You cannot climb up here, my lord!” she exclaimed, yet her protest obviously had no effect, since his head soon appeared above the ledge.

“I believe I can. I plan to keep you company.”

With his torso in view, he paused to survey her with interest.

“You will get your coat dusty,” Lily said lamely, eying his elegantly tailored evening coat of burgundy superfine—Weston, no doubt—that fitted those magnificent shoulders to perfection.

“My coat will survive.” His gaze raked over her own attire. “What about you? You are wearing a ball gown.”

“That is different. I don't care about clothing.”

When his eyebrow shot up, Lily realized that her retort could have two meanings. “I d-don't mean that I like to go
naked
…” she stammered, feeling scalding heat flood her cheeks. “I only meant that I don't care about
fancy clothing
…ball gowns and shuch.”

“How novel.” His tone turned wry as he climbed the last few rungs and settled a hip on the loft's edge. “It strains the imagination. You must be the first female I have ever met who isn't interested in fancy gowns.”

“But you see, I am not normal, my lord. I am very
abnormal.
”

“Is that so?” he replied, easing himself closer to sit beside her.

Even in the dim light, she could see that his hazel eyes were dancing. He was laughing at her!

Stiffening her spine, Lily opened her mouth to remonstrate, but he spoke first. “What is so abnormal about you, angel? You look exceedingly normal to me.”

When his gaze drifted downward again over her body, Lily pressed her hands to her flaming cheeks and willed herself to calm down—which was deplorably difficult considering the fluttery, flustered sensations that were racing through her at his lordship's close proximity.

Stretching up to her full sitting height, she tried to appear regal and made her tone dampening as she replied. “I
meant
that I am not usual for a
female.
”

“I have little doubt about that.”

She shot him an exasperated look. “The thing is, I should have been born male. I would have been mush happier.”

“Oh, and are you so unhappy now?”

In her slightly inebriated state, her thoughts were more sluggish than usual, and she had to consider his question for a moment. “Well…no. I like my life quite well. But women have little of the freedom that men enjoy.”

“What freedom would you like to enjoy, love?”

Lily bit her lower lip, abashed at how her tongue was running away from her. Yet she couldn't seem to help herself; the champagne had loosened her tongue deplorably. “Never mind. Don't listen to me, my lord. I don't hold my liquor at all well.”

“So it would seem. What made you drink so much then?”

“I was drowning my sorrows, if you insist on knowing.”

“What sorrows?”

“At losing my sister to matrimony. I was indulging in a bout of melancholy. But it was supposed to be
private.
” When he didn't respond, Lily added pointedly, “That is a veiled hint for you to leave, my lord.”

Instead of retreating down the loft ladder, he smiled and leaned back, casually resting his weight on his palms and crossing his long, satin-clad legs in front of him, as if settling in for a long stay.

Lily exhaled in a huff. “I don't think you comprehend the danger you are in, Lord Claybourne. It is a grave mistake for you to be alone with me. If Winifred knew, she would be ecstatic.”

“Winifred?”

“Lady Freemantle. She is the main reason I left the ball early—to escape her scheming. She is trying to mash…match me with you. You must have noticed.”

Her allegation didn't seem to alarm him as it should. “Perhaps, but her machinations are no worse than usual. I'm well-accustomed to eager mamas throwing their daughters at my head.”

Lily grimaced in disgruntlement. “Perhaps
you
can dismiss her plotting, but I cannot. It is mortifying in the extreme. I am not a prize heifer, to be exhibited before an eligible gentleman and judged for my defects and qualifications.”

His eyes were dancing again. “I should think not.”

At his blithe reply, exasperation welled up in Lily full force. “Do you not
understand
? Winifred wants me to set my cap at you.”

“But you don't intend to.”

“Certainly not! I have no interest in marriage.”

“That is quite a unique perspective for a young lady. Most women have made it their mission in life to find a husband.”

“True. But you needn't worry about me hounding you, Lord Claybourne. Oh, I know you are a prime catch. You are disgustingly rich, you have a vaunted title, you aren't so shabby in appearance, and you are said to be irresistibly charming.”

“But you aren't swayed by this delightful catalog of my attributes.”

“Not in the least.” Lily smiled faintly to soften the harshness of her observation. “No doubt you have a bevy of lovestruck admirers, but I will never join their ranks. And I have no intention of behaving like all the other flagrant husband-hunters you know. I won't chase after you.”

“You relieve my mind, Miss Loring. I don't enjoy being chased.” From the provocative laughter in his voice, he seemed to be enjoying himself far too much. “But I am quite curious to know why you have such a profound distaste for marriage.”

Lily drew a deep breath. Hoyden or not, she normally would never dream of discussing her personal affairs with a perfect stranger. But in this case, she was eager to be rid of him, so a liberal dose of frankness might stand her in good stead.

“In my experience marriage usually leads to unhappiness for a woman,” she said honestly.

“You speak from personal experience?”

Lily made a face. “Unfortunately, yes. My parents' union was hostile enough to give me an aversion to matrimony for life.”

The gleaming light in Claybourne's eyes faded as he studied her. His searching perusal was more unsettling than his amusement, however.

“I don't need a husband,” she hurried to add, “despite what proper society decrees for young ladies. I am financially independent now, thanks to the generous settlement Marcus made me. So I can have a fulfilling life without having to marry.”

“Yet you implied you wanted more freedom.”

She smiled uncertainly. “True.” Her dream had always been to escape to a life of freedom and adventure. “I mean to use the funds to travel the world and explore new and exciting places.”

“Alone?”

“Lady Hester Stanhope did it,” Lily pointed out, mentioning the adventurous earl's daughter and niece of William Pitt the Younger who had sailed to the Middle East and eventually joined a settlement of Arab tribesmen.

“So she did. But she was significantly older than you.”

“I am one and twenty, old enough to take care of myself.”

“So…you won't marry because men often make their wives unhappy,” Claybourne said slowly, as if testing the theory in his mind.

“Yes. First you make us too infatuated to think clearly, so we give over all control to you, and then you make our lives a misery.” Unconsciously Lily ground her teeth. “I think it abominable that husbands have the
legal
right to be villainous toward their wives. I am not about to give any man that power over me.”

To her surprise, Claybourne leaned forward and raised a hand to touch her cheek. “Who hurt you, angel?” he asked quietly.

Discomfited, Lily drew back. “No one hurt
me.
It was my mother who was hurt. And my eldest sister also, for that matter.”

He was silent for a moment. “I understand your father was a champion philanderer.”

Lily looked away, not wanting to recall the painful memories. “He was indeed. He flaunted his mistresses before my mother at every opportunity. It hurt her terribly. And Arabella's first betrothed betrayed her almost as badly. Belle
loved
him, but when my parents' scandal broke, he ended their engagement out of hand.”

Lily was certain Lord Claybourne knew all about the terrible scandals that had befallen her family four years ago. First their mother had taken a lover because she was unable to endure her unhappy marriage any longer, and then was forced to flee to the Continent by her outraged husband. A fortnight later their libertine father gambled away the last of his fortune and was killed in a duel over one of his mistresses. The Loring sisters had been left penniless and homeless, at the mercy of their curmudgeonly step-uncle, the Earl of Danvers, who had taken them in most grudgingly.

“Is that why you didn't want Marcus marrying your sister?”

“In large part.”

“You seem to harbor a strong prejudice against noblemen.”

“I won't deny it. Noblemen can make the worst sort of husbands.”

“Then I can take heart from the fact that your aversion is not directed at me personally.”

Her brows drew together. “No, I have nothing against you
personally,
my lord. I don't even know you.”
Thankfully,
she added to herself.

Claybourne remained silent for another dozen heartbeats before shifting his position to study the box's inhabitants. “I take it this is Boots,” he murmured, reaching down to scratch the mother cat behind one ear. Surprisingly Boots didn't object but started purring at once, rubbing her head sensuously against his fingers.

Lily found her gaze riveted on his lordship's hands as he stroked the silky gray fur. He had strong, graceful hands, surprising in such a bold, masculine man.

“I think you are forgetting one important fact,” he said finally.

She didn't immediately realize that Lord Claybourne was speaking to her. “What fact?”

“It is true that some men can be hurtful, but they can also give women great pleasure.”

Warmth rose to her face. “Perhaps some men can, but that is beside the point.”

Just then the black kitten pounced on his cuff and started chewing his knuckle.

“Hungry little fellow, aren't you?” he murmured with a smile. “And you as well,” he added as the gray kitten attacked his thumb.

He drew out the tiny creatures, settling them in his lap. Almost at once the black kitten crawled up his chest, digging its claws into the gold brocade of his waistcoat.

“I am sorry, my lord,” Lily said regretfully.

“It is no matter.” When the black one scampered higher, Claybourne gave a soft laugh. The low, husky sound raked across Lily's nerve endings with undeniable potency.

“Here, let me help…” she hastened to say.

Leaning forward, she reached out to pluck the kitten off his chest, but the curling claws clung to his cravat. Lily tried to extricate the tiny claws from the fine fabric without damaging it and somehow wound up pushing the marquess back in the straw.