A Hint of Seduction (24 page)

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Authors: Amelia Grey

Tags: #Regency, #Man-Woman Relationships, #Historical, #London (England), #Romance - Regency, #Romance - Historical, #Fiction, #Romance, #Romance: Historical, #Historical Fiction, #Fiction - Romance, #Love Stories

BOOK: A Hint of Seduction
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John was impressed with the way she handled herself with his friends. She didn’t seem intimidated by their titles as most young ladies would be. It was as if she and they had an instant rapport with one another.

And why shouldn’t they like her?
he thought as they talked. She was clever and beautiful but thankfully not as audacious and straightforward with them as she was with him. He hoped she was never that unconventional with anyone else. It was no wonder Mrs. Goosetree wanted to marry her off as soon as possible if she was as bold with her.

John couldn’t believe how long Stonehurst and Mirabella stayed and talked. He tried to keep his mind on the conversation, but his thoughts kept straying to Catherine’s offer to pay him with kisses.

She was unbelievable.

Finally John felt obliged to ask Stonehurst and Mirabella to join them. That is when they excused themselves and moved on.

Beginning to feel frustrated at the interruptions, John helped Catherine to sit on the blanket for the third time.

If there was ever a case for needing a drink, this was it. He opened the picnic basket and took out the silver flask of wine. He poured a glass of claret and handed it to Catherine and then poured one for himself.

He watched her take a sip while he took a drink. It was strong and cool, and he quickly downed another swallow.

“I like your friends,” Catherine said. “You seem quite the popular fellow.”

“Don’t change the subject, Catherine. I’m still trying to believe your proposition.”

He didn’t like the way she made him feel used. He would have sworn to the King that she had been as overcome with passion as he’d been when they were in that closet. Now she was acting as if his kisses meant nothing to her but a way to get what she wanted.

In fact, he was having a hell of a time with it.

First she talked about wanting to kiss Westerland for educational purposes, and now she wanted to pay him with kisses. He didn’t accept kisses for payment from any woman.

If she had been any other lady, he would have immediately taken her home and said good riddance. But he didn’t want to do that with Catherine. She intrigued him with her free thinking. And despite what she’d just said, he liked the fact that he never knew what she was going to come up with next.

“I don’t want to upset you, John.” A serious, contrite expression settled on her face. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t my intention.”

John said, “I kissed you because I desired you, Catherine. I thought that was the reason you allowed me such freedoms when we were together.”

“It is, John,” she said earnestly.

She looked deeply into his eyes and reached over and placed her hand on top of his. Her touch warmed him like a fire on a cold night. He was tempted to grab hold of her hand, but it was only for a second or two that she touched him before she removed her hand.

“Please believe me when I say that is true for me. Deep
in your heart you must know that. But I need your help to find my father. Our embracing and kissing gave us both pleasure, and it is the only thing I have to offer you in return for your help.”

He believed her. Her blue eyes had lost their sparkle, and her beautiful lips had no hint of a smile. Now she was the one upset, and he didn’t like the way that made him feel.

“I don’t need anything from you, Catherine. If I helped you, I wouldn’t need any payment for it.”

“I understand that now. I’m afraid I didn’t think how my offer would sound. I suppose if you aren’t willing to help me find my father, you won’t be interested in the other thing I was going to ask of you.”

All annoyance left him and he suddenly felt like laughing. How could she have him completely outraged one minute and dying to kiss her the next?

“There was more?” he asked.

“Yes, but I don’t want to upset you further, so I won’t say a word about it.”

He couldn’t let her get away with that. “Oh, no, you don’t. I insist you tell me—”

“John, how are you?”

“Sweet damnation,” he muttered under his breath as he looked up and saw Lord Colebrooke and his new wife, Isabella, heading their way.

This was murderous. He’d been to the park three times last week and never saw the first person he knew, but now today they were showing up every two minutes.

He took a deep breath, set their wine glasses aside, and rose before helping Catherine to stand. John remained as polite as he’d been with his previous two introductions, and Catherine enchanted the newly wedded pair just as easily as she had the others.

Thankfully Colebrooke and Isabella apologized for not being able to stay longer and visit, but they were on their way to an appointment. As soon as their farewells were said and their backs were turned, John reached down and emptied the contents of their glasses on the ground and put them back in the picnic basket.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“We’re leaving. I’ve had enough of these interruptions.”

“I guess that means our delightful afternoon in the park is over.”

“Delightful? You do have a way with words, Catherine. This afternoon has not been amusing in any way. Everyone I know seems to be in the park today. I want to go somewhere we can be alone.”

He picked up his hat and stuck it on his head. He threw his gloves in the picnic basket and draped the blanket over his arm.

“Let’s get out of here quickly before someone else stops by.”

Fifteen

A
S THE CARRIAGE
bumped along the crowded streets of the city, John and Catherine remained painfully quiet. John was busy with his thoughts.

Catherine had gotten his attention, in more ways than one, and he needed to do some serious thinking about her. He liked the fact that she had a goal and she was sticking to it, even though the odds were not in her favor. If the man who fathered her didn’t want to be found out, he would never own up to having been with her mother.

John wasn’t sure Catherine was ready for such rejection.

What really had him thinking was the fact that he had never had an important goal like that in his life. His objective had always been to win the next card game, the next horse race, the next lady to court, or even the next mistress to hire.

He didn’t know that he had ever had a goal that was truly worthy.

Why had it taken him so long to realize that? And why had it taken a lady with a very significant purpose to get him thinking?

Years ago his uncle pushed him to take his future and his title seriously by insisting he marry, take his place in Parliament, and get interested in the politics of England and the rest of the world. But even Bentley had grown tired of trying to force John to settle down to his responsibilities.

His uncle hadn’t mentioned his duty to his title in years until yesterday. John had great respect for his mother’s brother, but he had never given heed to any of the man’s prodding to marry and produce an heir.

Suddenly, those things seemed a bit more important than they had just twenty-four hours ago. And John was rethinking a lot of things, including Catherine’s request for assistance.

He hadn’t wanted to help Catherine in her quest only because he didn’t like the thought of digging around in someone else’s past—especially a gentlemen’s past. There was an unwritten code that wasn’t supposed to be broken. But he was now weighing that against Catherine’s yearning to know the identity of her real father.

John realized Catherine was saying something to him and he turned to face her. She had a pensive expression on her face.

He said, “I’m sorry I didn’t hear you.”

“Yes, I could see that you were thinking. We just passed the last turn that leads to my street.”

“That’s because I’m not taking you home yet. We’re going somewhere we can be alone for a few minutes. The park was as crowded as Lady Waverley’s party last night, and we haven’t finished our discussion.”

“Everyone knows the only reason to go to the parks is to see and be seen.”

John returned his attention to his driving. “Not me. Not today.”

He scanned the streets looking for anyone who might be familiar to him or Catherine. He didn’t want someone they knew to see him turn down the next street, not with her in the phaeton with him. It wouldn’t do for her to be seen with him in a carriage in the wrong section of town. He was taking a big chance, but he didn’t know of any other way to get her truly alone. They certainly couldn’t talk at ease under Mrs. Goosetree’s watchful gaze.

He made a right turn and then another quick left. Halfway down the next street he took another right and then stopped the horses in front of a building that looked like a livery with two large doors, but there were no markings or names on it anywhere.

John jumped down and knocked soundly on the door. Within a few moments the door opened. John whispered to the old man who answered and then climbed back up on the phaeton.

The double doors were swung wide. John clicked the ribbons, and the horses took the carriage inside the large, empty, and windowless room that was lit by low burning lanterns hanging strategically from the walls.

Catherine’s eyes grew wide with amazement as she watched the old man close them inside while John set the brake.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“We’re in a building I own. The old man used to work for the Prince until he hurt his leg in an accident. He takes care of this place for me. He has a room through there”—he
pointed to a door—“but for now he’ll take a walk outside.”

John watched as her gaze skimmed the bare, wooden walls to the dirt floor. He knew she could smell the cold-packed earthen floor, oil from the lanterns, and stale tobacco smoke. The only sound to be heard was the nickering of the horses and the rattle and jingle of their harness as they shuddered and tossed their heads in the air.

“I’m wondering what he takes care of. The room is empty.”

John chuckled as he took off his hat and his gloves and laid them on the floor at his feet. “I see what you mean. Different men rent it from me for various things.”

“What can they do with a vacant building?”

“Usually it’s set up with tables for private card or dice games. Or it has been used for boxing matches and cockfights. Things like that. Rory sets the room up according to what will be going on in here. I know it’s not the best place to bring a lady and it’s a bit chilly in here, but this was the only place I could think of where we could be completely alone and wouldn’t be interrupted.”

She looked around the room once again. “This is very private. I don’t think anyone will find us here. And it’s much bigger than Lady Waverly’s closet.”

“And we don’t have to whisper,” he added.

“Or have furniture sticking in our backs.”

John chuckled. He hadn’t minded the chair leg poking his back. Nothing bothered him when Catherine was in his arms.

Yellow light from the lanterns gave a beautiful glimmer to her skin. She didn’t look or sound anxious, but for his own peace of mind, he asked, “You aren’t frightened to be here alone with me, are you?”

She shook her head and smiled. “I trust you.”

Those three words soared through him and made him feel so damn good it was ridiculous. No woman had ever had that kind of power over him before. That was going to take some getting used to.

“I’m glad you know I would never do anything against your will.”

She smiled at him. “I do. I’m just surprised you want to be alone with me considering I upset you earlier.”

John relaxed against the back of the carriage cushion and put his arm across the top of the seat. Catherine turned more facing him and pushed her hips in the corner between the back and the arm of the cushion.

“That’s what I wanted to talk about. I guess I was wondering why you have such determination to find your real father when you obviously have great respect for the man who’s been your father all these years.”

Her expression turned serious. “I would have rather not known any of this. I was very happy thinking that the man who I lived with for almost twenty years was my father, and in truth I know he always will be. He was good to me, but that doesn’t satisfy the yearning I have inside me. I want to know who my mother loved and why they never married. I want to know if I look like him, walk like him, think like him.”

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