Accidental Peers 03 - Compromising Willa (2 page)

“Let’s not dwell on the past,” he said. “Not when we have the brightest of futures to look forward to.”

“A future?”

“Of course, with the depth of feeling that you and I can only find in each other.”

Her throat constricted. “The time for any sort of romantic foolishness has passed.” She turned away and rested her gloved hands on the cold stone balustrade, the chill stealing up her arms and rippling through her insides. “Surely, you recognize the realities of the world. You certainly assured that I did.”

“Balderdash.” He moved beside her, close enough for his perfume to fill her nostrils with the smell of rosemary, almonds, and old memories that were best forgotten. “I have come to take you to wife. Nothing stands between us now.”

Her heart took a slight leap. Perhaps she’d been wrong about him. Maybe his regard for her would prove strong enough after all. “The earl has agreed to this?” she ventured, feeling the tiniest sprig of hope. “Or have you decided to proceed without your father’s consent?”

He laughed, but it was a mirthless sound. “It is what the Earl of Bellingham desires above all else.”

“I don’t understand.” The old earl had always been firmly opposed to any match between them. He’d been in search of a larger dowry, but Augustus had convinced her they could overcome his objections. Foolishly—disastrously—she’d believed him. “How could this be?”

“My father is dead. Not three days in the ground, and I have come for you because I couldn’t bear to wait one moment longer for us to be together.” He resumed his smiling demeanor, yet no warmth emanated from him. “Once an appropriate mourning period is past, we shall become betrothed, just as we should have in earnest four years ago.”

It took her a moment to comprehend his words. His father dead. After all these years, nothing stood between them. She paused, waiting for a warm surge of joy now that they could finally be together. But there was…nothing. The only warmth she felt came from the anger kindling in her chest.

“I see.” Comprehension sank in. “Do you dare delude yourself into thinking I would accept you now? After the humiliation you inflicted upon me, sir?”

She stilled at the sound of laughter from a couple approaching from the far side of the terrace. She drew back into the shadows, away from Augustus. She had no desire to be seen alone with him and risk resurrecting the old rumors. “Please, take your leave of me. I am not so foolish as to repeat the follies of my past.”

He stepped closer. “You are even lovelier in your anger.” A satisfied smile crossed his face. “It appears you have grown up, my wild Willa.”

“Indeed. I am a great deal wiser than the foolish girl you knew.”

“And a great deal more beautiful.” He looked at her from under heavy eyelids. “I dare say the secret pleasures of marriage will be even more enjoyable than I’ve anticipated all these years.”

Her stomach revolted at the thought of resuming any kind of intimacy with this man. “I shall never marry.”

“Now, now. That will never do. Surely you comprehend that a female who displeases God by refusing to take a husband and procreate is consigned to lead the apes into hell.”

“I would much prefer to guide the monkeys into Hades rather than become your wife.”

“You, an ape leader? Such loveliness would be wasted on the shelf.” Cool eyes skated over the curves of her body. “I would enjoy pressing the issue, but it won’t do for my future countess to be tainted by further scandal.”

She gritted her teeth. “I will never marry. Not you nor anyone else.”

“Nonsense.” He drew back and executed a quick bow. “We are meant to be together. No one else shall ever have you.” Spinning on his heels, he marched into the ballroom.

She squelched the urge to fling something hard and heavy at the earl’s retreating back. Furious thoughts crowded her head. How had she ever borne such a disagreeable man? To have contemplated a life with him?

Only a foolish young girl would have considered it. Her own come-out Season years ago had met with great success, but she’d only had eyes for Augustus, who’d pressed his suit despite his father’s vehement disapproval. It shamed her to wonder whether his undeniable good looks had swayed her judgment of his character, even after he’d begun to change from the solemn boy she’d befriended into the intolerable man he was now.

A sudden movement at the bottom of the terrace steps cut into her thoughts. The gravel crunched and then went silent.

Someone was down there.

Willa peered down into the shadows where the light of a garden torch illuminated a masculine face etched in hard lines. He leaned into the flame, giving the unlit cheroot in his mouth a few quick inhales, cajoling it to take. When it sparked and smoked, the man leaned back with a satisfied air, taking a deep inhale.

He was likely a footman staying out of view while taking a break from his duties. Disconcerted, she called out in a chastising tone. “You there, what do you mean by hiding in the shadows listening to private discourse?”

“That was quite a scene,” the shadow drawled. “I look forward with great anticipation to seeing how this charming love story concludes.” Tall and darkly clothed, his bearing was not that of a servant, but someone of breeding would never smoke in front of a lady.

“You are very insolent,” she said heatedly, “to speak to me in such a manner.”

He regarded her with amused curiosity. “A thousand pardons, ma’am.”

She moved down the stairs to get a better look at him. Closer inspection revealed he wore formal evening attire topped with a snowy cravat. Not a servant then. He took a deep drag and exhaled. Lazy circles of silvery smoke melted into nothingness around the glow of the flame, steeping the air with the pungent aroma of burning tobacco.

“Forgive me if I have transgressed.” He stepped away from the torch, the glowing tip of the cheroot dancing in the dark as he moved. “However, in my defense, I was here previous to your romantic assignation on the terrace.”

“Romantic assignation? It was no such thing!” She prayed he’d have the good manners to vanish as quickly and quietly as he had appeared.

Instead, the scoundrel chuckled. “Once the heart-warming declarations of love and marriage began, I was keen to learn how it would all resolve itself.”

She batted the smoke away in quick, jerky movements. “It was private—”

“Most assignations are,” he interrupted, his eyes dancing. “Are felicitations on your impending betrothal in order? Allow me to be the first to bestow them.”

“You are insufferable.” Embarrassed indignation filled her chest. “A gentleman would have made his presence known. But you are obviously no gentleman.”

“So some have said.” He drew on his cheroot and exhaled, watching darkness swallow the curling fog of silvery smoke. “But enough about that. Do tell, are you and old Gus stepping into the parson’s mousetrap?”

As her eyes adjusted to the lack of light, she could make out the unforgiving angles of his face. Sharp cut lines which would look quite menacing, if not for the roguish glint in his eyes. “Even if it were so, I surely wouldn’t share information of a personal nature with a stranger,” she said, her nerves on end. “I do not know you, sir.”

“Quite right. I’m suitably chastened.” His answering grin flashed white in the darkness. “Do accept my most humble apologies.” His hand whipped out to grab her arm. Startled, she jumped back with a cry of alarm. His ungloved fingers tightened around the bare skin of her arm above her silk evening gloves, and the shock of flesh on flesh sizzled through her.

“What are you doing?” she hissed, struggling as he dragged her behind the hedgerow. Jerking his head in the direction of the stairs, he brought a long finger to the firm curve of his lips, signaling for her to be silent. She followed his gaze to the top of the stairs, where a couple prepared to descend. She clamped her mouth shut. The last thing she needed was another hint of scandal if she were discovered alone in the garden with a strange man. Why did she always seem to land herself into these situations?

The glowing tip of the cheroot sailed to the ground, the stranger’s boot heel silently coming down to crush the life out of it. They stood frozen while the couple walked down the stairs chatting, passing Willa and the stranger, who remained hidden by the greenery.

The man’s tall form stood so near that his body heat lapped at her. He smelled intoxicatingly fresh, like soap, as though he’d just scrubbed himself clean, intermingled with the distinctive scent of tobacco. A heightened sense of her own physicality zipped through Willa; her breathing sounded unnaturally loud; the rhythm of her heart clanged a clumsy beat and her skin warmed despite the evening chill.

“Please unhand me, sir.” Disconcerted by her peculiar bodily reaction to him, she shrugged his hand off the moment the couple moved out of earshot.

“What was it you mentioned to your amorous suitor? Something about the follies of your past? I took it upon myself to spare you any further embarrassment.”

Beastly man
. Inside, she churned with humiliation, but on the outside, her face assumed the cool, imperious cloak it wore so well. The one that kept people at bay.

“Surely I deserve words of praise from the lady,” he continued, “rather than her scorn?”

“Alas,” she said tartly, “the words you truly deserve would never pass a lady’s lips.”

Perfecting her posture, she turned away. Taking pains to appear unhurried, she sailed back up the stairs while his quiet laughter drifted behind her in the darkness.

…

The Earl of Bellingham sipped watery lemonade while watching a pretty brown-haired maid set more of the tepid liquid out in the refreshment room. So Willa planned to resist him. He went hard just thinking about it. She’d been damned appealing back when she’d been willing. But now, all fiery and reluctant, she was spectacular. Once the chit belonged to him, he’d enjoy bringing her back into submission.

The clatter of glasses turned his thoughts back to the brown-eyed maid and the sway of her generous hips. He quietly followed the wench along the narrow service corridor until they were alone in a tight alcove between the main assembly rooms and the kitchen.

“Girl,” he called out.

She stopped at once and turned around. The usual appreciation his physical appearance drew from wenches flickered in her widening eyes. “May I be of service, my lord?”

The light slanted across her unremarkable features, revealing the girl to be rather plain of face. No matter, he needed relief and she would do well enough. Advancing on her, he flicked a coin in her direction. It clattered to the ground before she could think to catch it. “Yes, you could be of service to me.”

She looked confused for a moment until her gaze fluttered down to his obvious arousal, which he made no attempt to hide. She reddened and backed away, crossing her arms against her chest. “Oh, no my lord. I am a good girl. I could send Stella to ye maybe.” Her color deepened. “She’ll give ye a toss for a price.”

The idea of a willing whore bored him. “No, I’ll have you.” The fear in her eyes made him harden even more. “Or I shall be forced to let everyone know that you stole that blunt from me.”

Eyeing the shiny sovereign winking up at her from the floor, she trembled. “But I didn’t, my lord.”

“Who do you think they will believe, a peer of the realm or an inconsequential nothing like you?”

She bowed her head as tears filled her eyes. Tasting victory, Augustus’ pulse accelerated. His arousal swelled and ached with anticipation.

“Do not concern yourself overmuch. I am not interested in what’s between your legs.” He moved in on her, unfastening his breeches. “Get down on your knees, my pet.”

…

“There you are, Willa.” Her cousin, Arthur Stanhope, Marquess of Camryn, stood with her mother. “I believe you owe me a dance.”

“We were looking for you,” Mother said. “Where did you take yourself off to?”

She smoothed her face, anxious not to appear unnerved. “I stepped out for some air.” Her eyes scanned the crowd for any sign of either Augustus or the annoying man from the garden.

“Unaccompanied?” Her mother frowned. “Really, Willa.”

Her cousin saved her from further scrutiny by reminding her of their dance. “Now that you are quite refreshed, shall we?” He offered his arm.

“But this is a waltz,” Willa teased. “Think of all the maidens you’ll disappoint by standing up with your cousin.”

“Exactly,” he said, leading her out onto the dance floor. “You are the safest option for an unmarried marquess.”

Her good-natured cousin made her feel safe as well. The eldest son of her father’s brother, Cam had assumed the role of protective older brother after inheriting her father’s title. Looking up into his speckled green eyes and at his unruly tawny hair made her smile. Cam had the appearance of an untamed animal in his stiff evening clothes. “Surely you aren’t shirking your duty to marry and beget an heir.”

“Perhaps it is time for both of us to contemplate the matrimonial state.”

“With my reputation?” She forced a light tone, which belied the heaviness in her chest. “We have been over this more times than I care to count.”

“I could arrange an excellent match,” he said in a grave tone. “There are many fine gentlemen who would treat you well.”