A Necessary Husband (4 page)

“Nonsense! You will begin again!” He signaled to Lady Agatha, then dropped his hand, an uncertain expression on his face. “Uh, my lady?”

Lucinda glanced over at Lady Agatha, whose head bobbed forward on her chest even as a soft snore echoed through the music room. “Oh, dear, not again,” Lucinda sighed.

Again? Garrett thought. Their conversation in the breakfast room came back to him, and every
thing rapidly fell into place. No wonder the duke had arranged for Lucinda to help with Meg: Lady Agatha apparently had a tendency to drift off to sleep at any moment!

Lucinda hurried forward and gently nudged Lady Agatha, who came awake with a loud, “Who’s there?”

“Monsieur would like to try the waltz again, my lady,” Lucinda said respectfully, remaining close until the elderly woman gathered herself.

“Well, why didn’t he say so?” Lady Agatha demanded.

Lucinda went back to her place with Meg. Lady Agatha launched into a robust waltz, and Monsieur Collineau quickly took up the count again. “Now then…one, two, three, and one, two, three—smile, Miss Stanton-Lynch—and one, two, three…”

Garrett chuckled as Lucinda spun haltingly around the room with Meg. He knew the exact instant that Lucinda caught sight of him standing in the doorway. Her eyes widened, and she stumbled.

“Ouch!” Meg stopped dancing to hobble on one foot. “Lucinda, you stepped on my toes.”

“I’m so sorry, Meg.” Lucinda turned her back on Garrett and helped the limping girl to a nearby chair.

“I say, who is this?” Monsieur Collineau demanded, catching sight of Garrett. The dance
master regarded Garrett’s simple attire through his quizzing glass. “Sir, this is a private lesson!”

“I won’t interrupt.” With a bland smile, Garrett went over and seated himself in a chair beside the pianoforte, long legs sprawled before him. He nodded at Lady Agatha, then folded his hands over his stomach and prepared to watch the lesson.

“See here!” the dance master burst out, puffing up with outrage.

“I see no reason why my nephew cannot watch his sister’s dancing lesson, do you, Mrs. Devering?” Lady Agatha asked, her words stopping the dance master’s protests mid-breath.

“Of course not, my lady,” Lucinda replied, looking as if she longed to say the opposite. She gave Garrett a furious look, then turned back to Meg.

The dance master paled. “Your…er, nephew, Lady Agatha?”

“Yes, my great-nephew, the Marquess of Kelton. He is Miss Stanton-Lynch’s brother. I trust you have no objections, Monsieur Collineau?”

Garrett raised his brows in the most arrogant way he could.

“Objections? Of course not!” The dance master cleared his throat. “Welcome, my lord. Please, stay as long as you like.”

Garrett bared his teeth in a grin. “Thanks, I believe I will.”

“Now, where were we?” Monsieur Collineau asked, looking back to Meg and Lucinda.

“My foot hurts, and I’m tired,” Meg complained.

Monsieur hurried over to his student. As both the dance master and Lucinda fussed over Meg, Garrett noticed Lucinda kept her back to him the whole time. Of course, this meant that he had a very nice view of her lovely backside. Despite the layers of petticoats and whatnot that ladies wore beneath their clothes, he could clearly make out the womanly curves of her buttocks and thighs.

What would she do if she caught him staring? He thought of the glare she had given him, and couldn’t help the grin that tugged at his lips. She was still mad at him. And when she turned all that passionate anger in his direction, it made him hotter than a summer day in Savannah. Watching her bend over like that gave him a few ideas that would scorch her petticoats, if she only knew.

Lady Agatha leaned forward and whispered, “What did you say to Mrs. Devering, you young scoundrel?”

Startled from his lusty fantasy, Garrett tore his attention from Lucinda’s lovely bottom. “What?”

“Come, now. What did you say to her? She’s furious with you,” the old lady confided in a low
voice. “She’s a pretty thing. I know you like her.”

“I—why wouldn’t I like her?”

“Have you made untoward advances?” she asked, her dark eyes gleaming with something that looked like anticipation.

“Of course not!” At least, not yet.

“You didn’t?” His aunt seemed disappointed. “Too bad. I had such high hopes for you.”

Before he could answer, Meg’s voice rose to a pitch he knew signaled trouble. “I told you, I’m tired and my foot hurts! Are you deaf? Shall I say it in French?”

Monsieur Collineau’s face had turned red, and his pale eyes bulged in his thin face. He whirled on Lucinda. “Madame Devering,” he implored in a voice taut with frustration, “you know we do not have much time. I am expected at the Grendales’ residence promptly at five o’clock, and I cannot return to further instruct Miss Stanton-Lynch until the day before you leave for London. We have but a half an hour left of our lesson. Will you
please reason with the girl
?”

Lucinda raised cool brows at Monsieur’s irate tone, but she turned to Meg anyway. “Meg, perhaps—”

“No, Lucinda,” Meg interrupted. She turned her attention to the dance master. “
The girl
is sitting right here and speaks English, Monsieur Collineau.
The girl
is tired and has sore feet!
The
girl
cannot dance again for at least fifteen minutes!”

“
Mon Dieu!
” Monsieur cried, spinning away in dramatic horror. “Fifteen minutes! We are undone!”

Even Lucinda looked worried. “Meg, you know you need to master the waltz. And Monsieur Collineau cannot return until next week.”

“I don’t care.” Meg folded her arms, blue eyes welling with tears. “Can’t I just watch for a few minutes?”

Lucinda sighed. “Meg, the waltz takes two people.”

“Perhaps I can assist.” As all heads swung toward him, Garrett looked at the dance master. “Monsieur, I can help by demonstrating the dance with Mrs. Devering while my sister observes.”

“
Merveilleux!
” Monsieur cried. “We are saved!”

“I don’t think—” Lucinda’s words faded away as Garrett came to stand before her. “Can you even dance the waltz?” she demanded.

“I’m certain I can follow Monsieur’s instructions.” Grinning, Garrett held out his arms, hungry to touch her even in this innocent way. “Mrs. Devering, I await your pleasure.”

L
ucinda stared at the arrogant devil tempting her to step into his arms. His blue eyes gleamed with warm appreciation, and dimples creased his cheeks.

“Go on, Lucinda,” Meg said from behind her. “If I see how it is supposed to be done, it will help me learn.”

“Come, Mrs. Devering,” Garrett urged. “We are well chaperoned. You have nothing to fear.”

“I hardly fear
you
, my lord.” Chin held high, Lucinda stepped forward into his arms.

He quirked his brows at the use of his title, and sent her a private look bold enough to make her breath catch.

“Excellent form, my lord!” the dance master exclaimed, fluttering around them. “Now, your hand rests here, at her waist—very good—and
you take her other hand in yours…yes, yes, perfect!”

The casual weight of his hand settling at her waist made her flesh tingle. Good heavens, how long had it been since a man had touched her? Years, certainly; Harry had stopped sharing her bed long before he had died. As she breathed in the scents of soap and man, an unexpected thrill went through her.

She met Garrett’s eyes as Monsieur adjusted the American’s fingers where they closed over hers. Garrett’s hands were big and a little rough, yet he cradled her hand with a gentle warmth that echoed the heat of masculine interest in his eyes.

“My lord, you are familiar with the waltz, are you not?” Monsieur asked.

“I’ll muddle along,” Garrett murmured.

“Very well. Lady Agatha, if you please…”

The music began, and with a knowing smile, Garrett swept Lucinda into the dance.

The first turn left her spinning. She had expected to have to step carefully, lest she tread on his inexperienced feet, but instead she found herself in the arms of a man who could waltz with a grace that stole her breath.

His steps were sure, his arms strong, as he swept her around the room. His thighs brushed hers now and again as he whirled her around
and around, making her flush with unexpected delight.

Her heart seemed to burst open with forgotten feelings, emotions she had carefully locked away. It felt glorious to be held again, magnificent to be able to let go of her control and trust a man to guide her for this fleeting moment in time. She began to hum with the music, eyes sliding closed, lips curving in a smile.

For this brief instant, she wasn’t Harry Devering’s long-neglected widow or Meg’s companion or the daughter of General George Northcott. She was simply a woman—a woman who had gone too long without being touched by a man. Oh, the sensations were exquisite, and she never wanted this waltz to end.

Garrett relished the feel of her in his arms. It had been nearly a year since he’d held a woman who was not his sister, and he was enjoying the experience immensely. Her head just reached his shoulder, making them a perfect fit from chest to thighs. He watched her face as she relaxed in his arms, saw the pleasure spread across her delicate features as her eyes closed, and she began to hum with the music. A small smile curved her lips.

Desire flared hotter. Her expression resembled that of a woman who had just been thoroughly made love to, and suddenly he could imagine her lying on the bed amid tangled sheets, those
toffee-colored curls spread across the pillows, that very smile of satisfaction on her lips.

Oh, yes, and he could imagine every touch, every kiss, that would bring that smile to her face. He slid his hand more firmly around her waist, longing to pull her closer.

Eventually they would be alone. And then…Going to London no longer seemed so intolerable with the prospect of enticing her into his bed.

Lucinda’s eyes drifted open, and she gave him a sincere smile of pure enjoyment. He couldn’t help but smile back and whirled her in a turn that made her laugh out loud. Her eyes glowed, and she tightened her fingers on his shoulder as he swept her into another turn.

Dear God, he had to have her.

She must have seen something in his face, because her smile faded. She held his gaze as the tension rose between them.

He slowed, making every movement a seduction, every step a caress. He squeezed her waist, watching the awareness slip into her eyes. Her lips parted, and he swept her into another turn, pressing his body against hers for the merest instant before allowing the proper distance between them again.

Lucinda felt as if he were making love to her through the waltz.

His intent expression, his blue eyes focused so
fiercely on her face, as if willing her to fall under his spell…The brief brush of his body against hers, so carefully orchestrated that no one but she was aware of it, all bespoke his feelings.

He wanted her.

The knowledge made her heart pound and her head spin. Men had shown interest in her before, but this was the first time she had wanted one back.

She had to get control of herself. Had to rein in her emotions. This could not happen!

But how could she resist those blue eyes, the color of a cloudless sky, looking at her as if he could see her soul? How could she ignore the alluring power of his body, the ease with which he guided her through the dance? How could she not notice those broad shoulders that seemed capable of taking on innumerable burdens with ridiculous ease? His hands, strong enough to crush her bones but gentle enough to hold a newborn kitten? The clean scent of man that tempted her to taste his sun-kissed skin?

How was a woman supposed to resist a man who loved his sister so fiercely that he would sail halfway around the world to be with her?

She couldn’t stop the emotions that flooded her, the longing and the wanting and the sheer pleasure-pain of
feeling
again. He had brought her back to life. Somehow, with one dance, this
American with the work-roughened hands and the summer-blue eyes had resurrected the spirit of the woman she had once been.

She wanted, fiercely. She desired, hungrily. And had she been any other woman in any other circumstance, she would have taken the handsome American to her bed—knowing he would leave her, but also knowing that somehow he would unlock the prison where her spirit had resided these past ten years.

But she was Lucinda Devering, pawn of the Duke of Raynewood, and this man was a danger to her future.

Somehow she had to resist him. Somehow she must dredge up the will to deny herself the joy of finally living again. To find the power to turn away from something she wanted more than she wanted her next breath, and concentrate on what had to be.

The music came to an end. With a flourish, Garrett swept her into one more turn and then bowed, pressing his lips to her hand in a courtly gesture she hadn’t expected. The feel of his warm mouth on her flesh surprised a gasp from her, and he met her eyes with unabashed desire.

She shivered at his power over her. Thank God she would be rid of him once they went to London. If she could manage to resist him for one more week, then she and Meg would be
gone from Raynewood and Garrett would go back to America.

Somewhere she would find the strength to deny her innermost longings. If she gave in to Garrett’s advances, not only would she be risking her only chance at a decent future, but he would no doubt become disappointed with her, just as Harry had.

It was much better to quietly glory in the fact that he was attracted to her than to torment herself worrying about what could not be.

A burst of applause brought her back to reality with a jolt.

“That was wonderful!” Meg cried, clapping. “Garrett, you must dance with me next!”

“Splendid, my lord!” Monsieur Collineau trilled. “Quite splendid!”

Lucinda slowly stepped away, slipping her hand from Garrett’s. His other hand dropped from her waist. She had to swallow hard before she could speak. “You are an excellent dancer, my lord.”

“We do dance in America,” he replied easily.

Trying to pull her scrambling emotions together, she gave him a polite smile. “I simply didn’t expect a man like you to be so big…I mean,” she hurried on, cheeks flaming, “I mean, I did not expect a big man like yourself to be so good at this. Dancing, that is. You are quite graceful.”

“Why, thank you.” The twitch of his lips indicated that he knew her thoughts had drifted onto the path of impropriety. His voice held seductive nuances that only she seemed to hear, as he said, “I look forward to dancing with you again, Mrs. Devering.”

“Yes, how regrettable that we shall not have the opportunity,” she said coolly.

“Oh, but you will!” Meg cried. “When we go to London you’ll have plenty of chances to dance together, since Garrett is going with us.”

Lucinda’s heart stopped. “Wh-what?”

“Meg has asked me to accompany you to London,” he said. “I’ve agreed to go.”

“How splendid!” Lady Agatha chimed in from the pianoforte.

“Yes. Splendid,” Lucinda echoed hollowly. “If you’ll excuse me, Captain, the dance has left me a bit breathless.”

“Are you certain it was the dance?” Garrett murmured.

Ignoring his comment, she walked stiffly to the chair beside the pianoforte as Garrett took his position again with Meg as a partner.

“Simply keep the count and follow his lordship’s lead,” Monsieur said to Meg. “Lady Strathwaite, if you please.”

Lady Agatha started playing again, and Garrett swept his sister into the waltz to the accompaniment of Monsieur’s counting. Meg’s giggle
of pleasure echoed over the well-tuned notes of the pianoforte.

Lucinda found herself captured by the sensual grace of Garrett’s movements. His lack of coat allowed the flexing of his back and arm muscles beneath his white shirt to be easily seen. Against her will, her eyes were drawn to his well-shaped thighs and tight buttocks, moving in rhythm with the music. An image drifted through her mind, of Garrett sans clothing, his muscles rippling as he tumbled her onto the bed…

“He’s a handsome devil, isn’t he?” Lady Agatha murmured, still playing.

Lucinda took a moment to calm her pounding heart. “My lady?”

“My great-nephew. He’s a handsome devil.” Lady Agatha glanced over, her dark eyes twinkling. “A woman would be lucky indeed to attract his attention.”

Lucinda straightened her spine. “I’m not interested in his attentions,” she said firmly. “Meg is my concern.”
And the duke has plans for him
, she reminded herself.

“Meg may be your concern,” the old lady said with a chuckle, “but you’ve just become my nephew’s. If you don’t welcome his attentions, I suggest you lock your bedroom door at night.”

“My lady!” she exclaimed, shocked, even as a ripple of heat went through her at the thought.

“I may be old,” Lady Agatha said with a snort,
“but some things haven’t changed, and this is one of them. As far as I’m concerned, you could use a man like him, even for a little while. And if you’re any bit the woman I think you are, you’ll know exactly how to handle my nephew.”

“This discussion is quite improper,” Lucinda whispered, breathless at the mere idea of
handling
Garrett Lynch.

“When you get to be my age, Mrs. Devering, propriety falls by the wayside. I hope you’ll give that young devil a chance.”

The idea of Garrett Lynch as a potential lover continued to haunt Lucinda as she watched Garrett sweep Meg into a waltz.

He had to have her.

As he danced with Meg, Garrett cast a quick glance now and then at Lucinda. It didn’t matter to him if she
was
interested in his grandfather—something he was not at all certain of anymore. He was certain that his youth and virility would be more enticing than the duke’s fortune. And if the lady required hard, cold proof of his devotion, he was a wealthy man in his own right.

But given the heat he had just seen in her eyes, he now knew the key to winning her. Beneath that proper veneer beat the heart of a passionate woman. Unrelenting seduction was called for in this situation, and he was eager to begin.

The more he thought about it, the more he
came to believe that Lucinda had not lied when she claimed to have no interest in the duke. From her reactions, he deduced that she was a woman who had not been touched in a long time.

He would remedy that.

He swept Meg into one last turn and caught Lucinda’s eye. She pointedly looked away, and he grinned. Soon he would turn Lucinda’s protests into purrs of pleasure.

Very soon.