A Hint of Seduction (11 page)

The General nickered and shuddered. Catherine gave the big animal enough leather to walk to his master as she jumped down from her own horse.

She watched in the shadowy light as Lord Chatwin ran his gloved hand down his gelding’s long, wide nose before letting him munch on the apple from the palm of his hand. He patted the animal’s strong neck and whispered something to him.

Catherine was mesmerized by the relationship Lord Chatwin had with his mount. She liked the way he touched his horse and talked to him in a calming whisper that made the animal’s ears twitch. The General tossed his head as if he were agreeing with every word.

She was impressed that the earl had thought to bring a treat for the animal.

Finally Lord Chatwin looked over at Catherine. Even through the misty grayness she could see that his dark eyes had a polished sparkle in them that shone with pleasure and appreciation.

Without taking her gaze from his face, Catherine pushed the hood from her head and let it fall to her back. She’d left her hair unbound, not wanting to take the time to put it up,
and it now pooled around her shoulders. She lifted the weight of it from her cloak and shook it free of the hood.

The chilling air kissed her cheeks and nose as she extended the reins to him. He took them, making sure his gloved fingers briefly closed over hers before drawing the leather away from her grasp.

He smiled at her and said, “I wasn’t sure you would come.”

Catherine cleared her throat, giving herself time to recover from the thrill of his unexpected touch. “Neither was I, but sometime during the night I convinced myself that I needed to return him myself, since you so kindly let me borrow him yesterday.”

Lord Chatwin laughed gently as he moved to stand closer to her. It was a wonderful-sounding chuckle that echoed all around her but somehow managed not to disturb the quietness of the night.

“You do have your own enchanting way of remembering things, Miss Reynolds.”

“Is that not the way you remember our encounter yesterday morn?” she asked, suspecting he wouldn’t agree, but knowing she would never admit to having stolen the horse.

“No, fair lady, it is not.”

“Well, I suppose we all do have different ways to remember.”

He nodded. “Did anyone see you riding into the park this morning?” he asked.

“I don’t believe so, but then I didn’t think anyone had seen me riding yesterday, and I was very mistaken about that.”

The earl’s horse nudged his back restlessly, but Lord Chatwin didn’t seem to notice. “Indeed you were. You have caused quite a stir among my friends and foes alike.”

“I hope you believe me when I say that was not my intention.”

“I do and I’m hoping this”—he turned and patted the bridge of his horse’s nose again—“will put a stop to all the gossip.”

From the look on his face he didn’t seem too worried about the gossip, but she said, “I hope so, too. No doubt you were not happy to be the brunt of jokes about a lady riding your horse.”

“Well put, Miss Reynolds. I’ve had my name linked with countesses, princesses, and even Josephine a couple of years back when I traveled through Paris, but this is the first time I’ve been associated with a mysterious lady who rides my gelding as if he were her own.”

She smiled her appreciation at his compliment.

Catherine found Lord Chatwin’s disposition comfortable, and it was easy to flirt with him even though she’d had very few opportunities to develop the skill.

“Perhaps we both have reason to worry about our meeting this morning as well. It would have been easier for us had you simply allowed me to have your horse delivered to your stable.”

“Easy, yes, but what excitement would there have been in doing something as simple as that?”

Excitement
. That wasn’t a word that she had used a lot or knew much about.

Could it be that is why she had decided to go against her better judgment and meet him? After living so long in the somber Northern Coast, was it excitement she wanted? Was that part of the reason she wanted to find her real father and confront him and ask him why he deserted her mother when she was carrying his child twenty years ago?

No. She was far too sensible for that. She wanted answers. She wanted to know what made her father deny his responsibilities and not marry her mother. How could she go through life not knowing the answer if there was any possibility that she could find out?

She knew if it became known that she was looking for her real father, she would be branded a bastard, but not even that fear would stop her. And finding that man is what she must concentrate on. Not the thrilling way this attractive man standing before her could make her feel.

“Not excitement to be sure,” she answered with assurance as their gaze met and held once more, “but certainly it would have been much safer for both of us.”

“I’ve never played it safe, Miss Reynolds.”

Catherine’s breaths shortened. “Perhaps that is what attracts me to you, my lord.”

He moved still closer to her. She felt warmth from his body even though he didn’t touch her. His gaze searched hers. His lips were parted and moist, and she found herself wondering what it would feel like to be kissed by him.

“You admit you are attracted to me?”

There was an awareness of him that she hadn’t felt with any other man. When he was near, her heart skipped beats, her chest tightened, and her strong legs suddenly seemed as weak and trembly as a newborn foal.

“Yes,” she said, seeing no reason to deny what he must already know.

“You are brave to do so when your sister acts as if you have no interest in me whatsoever.”

“I can afford to be because that attraction has nothing to do with why I am here. I came only to return your horse.”

A slow, handsome smile eased across his face.
“Whichever brought you here, I’m glad you came. I wanted to spend some time with you without the watchful eyes of Mrs. Goosetree and half the
ton
. I’m glad you felt safe enough with me to come.”

Lord Chatwin’s horse stomped and pawed the ground restlessly, reminding Catherine that she needed to go. She knew she could spend the entire morning talking with him, but she’d already stayed longer than she should have.

Every moment she was with him she was taking a chance of being caught; still she was reluctant.

“But I have no time to converse with you. I must go back before someone in the house realizes I’m gone.”

“What are you doing this afternoon?”

“Why do you ask? Victoria has already explained I’m not free to see you.”

“It’s natural to want to know the name of my competition, don’t you think?”

Catherine’s smile turned into a soft laugh.

“Why does that amuse you?”

“Because, my lord, I have heard all about you.”

“And what exactly does that mean?”

“That I’m afraid your reputation precedes you. You don’t consider that you ever have any competition. From what I’ve heard you have never had any doubts of winning the heart of any lady you so desired.”

“Ah—you heard that about me? Am I really that much of a rogue?”

“Well, perhaps not in those exact words, but that is the impression I was left with. Because you are one of the Terrible Twosome, I have heard many things about you, not the least of which is that you are not interested in making a match.”

“And you are.”

“Of course. It’s what young ladies do.”

“But just because I’m not interested in being leg-shackled at this time does not mean that I’m not attracted to you.”

“I would never believe you have eyes for no one but me. I’ve heard the stories of how many young ladies have thought so in the past only to have their quivering hearts torn from their chests when you gave your attention to another.”

Lord Chatwin gave her a lighthearted shrug. “I’ve enjoyed the attentions of many ladies, but I’ve never made a promise to any of them.”

“And from what I hear, you are not likely to make one any time soon.”

“I suppose your sister would like to see you make a match before the Season is out.”

“She would like that, yes.”

“And what about you?”

“It is what our father wanted—an acceptable match for me, but I don’t see that it necessarily has to happen this year. I’m in no hurry to marry and quite willing to wait another year. Vickie is not.”

“She seems to be doing a good job of watching over you.”

“She has good reason.”

“Because she’s so devoted to you?”

“That, too, but—” Catherine laughed. “But mostly because it benefits her. My—
our
father decided to make it well worth her while to see to it that she did her best by me.”

“In what way?”

“She receives a generous amount of money once I’ve wed.”

His eyes sparkled mischievously. “That makes it nice for her.”

“Yes, especially because she gets an extra bonus if I marry a titled gentleman and still more if I marry the first year.”

He laughed. “Are you sincere?”

“Quite. Are you worried?”

“Should I be?”

“Perhaps.”

“I’m not.”

“Maybe you should be. It depends on how serious your interest is, but I think Vickie has decided you would make me a fine husband, and she’s determined to match wits with you over the possibilities.”

“I thought as much. I’m up to the challenge and welcome it, but tell me, don’t you have a choice in who you marry?”

“Oh, yes, my father made it clear I have to be in agreement.”

“So she can’t marry you off to someone like the Duke of Wellsgarten, who is near eighty if he is a day.”

“Not unless I agree.” Catherine looked behind her. “Now I really must go.” She turned to leave, but Lord Chatwin touched her arm and she glanced back to him.

Their eyes met and held.

“Before you go, I want to—”

He quickly bent down and touched his lips to hers softly, briefly. It was over much too fast. She didn’t have time to savor the exhilarating feel of his warm lips pressed lightly against hers before they were gone and she was looking into his dark eyes once again.

A soft gasp passed her lips and a tingling thrill shot across her breasts and spiraled downward to her stomach.

“Did my kiss frighten you?”

“No, it surprised me.”

“Good. I don’t want to frighten you.”

Without really knowing why she did it, she ran her tongue over her lips and then laughed softly.

“What is it?” he asked, looking confused by her laughter.

“Nothing bad. It’s just that your lips left the taste of apple on mine.”

He grinned. “You caught me. I brought two apples for my horse, but I ended up eating one while I waited for you.”

“I’m sure The General will forgive you.”

“And what about you?” He reached out and softly let her hair glide through his fingers. “Will you forgive me for wanting to kiss you again?”

“I have no fear that you are romantically interested in a lady who would borrow your horse without permission.”

“You assume too much, Miss Reynolds.”

Catherine stared at him, unable to move or even breathe as his hand played with her hair. Was he asking for permission or making a statement? She wasn’t sure, but she found herself giving him a slight nod.

Lord Chatwin let his hand drop to her waist and he slid his arms inside her cape, moving them all the way around her to the small of her back. She allowed him to pull her up close. She had never felt such warmth as the heat that came from his body.

She had been kissed once before much like Lord Chatwin’s first kiss, but she had never been held so protectively in the strong arms of a man. It felt wonderful.

It was exciting.

Yes, this was what excitement meant. That giddy and breathless feeling. This was that feeling of which the poets spoke. And it was heavenly. Amazement at its best, she thought as she leaned into his strong chest and settled her breast against him.

She watched as he bent his head and his face came closer and closer until his lips touched hers again. Warmth slid all the way down her. She savored the sweet taste of apple on his lips. Catherine’s legs went weak again, and she seemed to melt closer to him as his lips moved smoothly, confidently, effortlessly over hers.

This time the kiss lasted longer. He didn’t pull his mouth away from hers. His lips were tender, his teeth occasionally nibbling softly at her lips. She opened her mouth and his tongue darted inside and teased hers.

She felt liquid and limp as he pressed her closer to him. The kiss deepened. Was this what passion felt like? If so, no wonder the poets wrote about it, exploring the subject in great detail. She had never been kissed like this, but it didn’t take long for her to learn how to participate.

Catherine was swept along with the new sensations curling and twirling inside her.

Catherine knew she was taking a risk allowing him this freedom, and as much as she hated to, she pushed away from him. He let her slip from his grasp.