Once Upon an Accident 02 - Lessons in Seduction (7 page)

Dressed in celestial blue, her favorite color, she drew much attention from the bounders and rakes of the ton. Both those of the lecherous and the longing. Her dour cousin, some twenty years her senior and one of the unhappiest creatures to grace the earth, Lady Diana, frowned at him.

She, too, was dressed in the hideous pastels of the season. If she didn’t already look like a frigid icicle, the light blue dress solidified the image.

“It seems we are in for another crush,” Catherine said. “My dance card is already full.”

“As it always is.” He caught a look at Lady Cicely out of the corner of his eye. “If you ladies will excuse me, I see my cousin Colleen’s family making their way through the throng of people. I must say my hellos.”

After taking his leave, he made his way through the throng of revelers to Cicely with a determined frown. He knew he looked irritated, due to the fact that he was, but he didn’t give a damn. He had dreamt of that teasing voice, the way she had smiled up at him, and it was driving him to distraction thinking another man would be offered the boon.

He stopped in mid-step, just to have the rather large Baron Wickam run squarely into his back. Casting the man a nasty look, to have one thrown right back at him, Douglas continued on his way.

He was not confronting her because he was worried someone would take his place. He comforted himself with that knowledge. What concerned him more was the threat to her reputation.

When he finally caught up with the three ladies, the look Cicely gave him was not at all welcoming. In fact, there was a bit of a militant glare in her eyes.

“Ladies.” He bowed over Lady Victoria’s then Anna’s hand, waiting to approach Cicely last. Without a thought, he brushed his lips over her glove, his mind spinning from the warmth and scent of lavender. When he rose, he noticed the most delicious blush creeping into her cheeks.

Keeping his gaze on her face, he asked, “Lady Victoria, I wondered if I could request a turn about the room with Lady Cicely.”

When she didn’t respond, he looked at the older woman to find her watching him with a knowing air. “If Cicely is agreeable.”

He turned back to Cicely who nodded although he knew she wasn’t particularly happy with the situation. Offering her an arm, he waited for her to place her hand on his sleeve, his heart doing a little kick when she accepted.

“Lady Cicely, I do believe that you have a bit of explaining to do.”

She smiled at an acquaintance, an older earl Douglas knew was one of the regulars at The Historical Society. He waited, not so patiently, for her to finish her greetings.

“I have no notion what you are talking about,” she said, keeping her voice just loud enough for him to hear.

He gritted his teeth. “I think you do and I wanted to warn you before you ruin your reputation. I have told no one of our conversation, but other men would not be so discreet.”

She glanced around her surreptitiously. “You have fulfilled your duty, Your Grace.” Letting go of his arm, she curtsied. “If you will excuse me, I need to catch up with Lady Middleton about The Historical Society meeting this week.”

He looked over her head toward the corner where many of the dowagers rested. When she rose, he met her gaze. “If you promise me to be careful and make no requests to other gentlemen tonight.”

She smiled. “I assure you that I will not approach anyone this evening. I have since decided against my first plan.” The utter sincerity in her eyes had him nodding.

Turning, she walked to the older women and his gaze drew down her form to her rear end. He was struck again by the ferocity of his need to discover what she hid under those ghastly dresses. He felt another pulse of arousal. He ignored it and thinking he had done his duty, decided to find Lady Catherine. Perhaps her humor could distract him from his current unsettling line of thought.

The heat of the ballroom had Cicely’s head throbbing. Her breath tangled in her throat and a cold chill slithered into her stomach. She hated the occasional fear she experienced in large crowds. Every now and then, the press of people caused the dammed clawing terror to rise. The evening’s party was a huge success, the number of guests overwhelming.

They bumped and touched, not from rudeness, but rather lack of room.

She could not step but a foot ahead without jostling someone. She tried to contain her discomfort, but that compiled with the misery of seeing Douglas pursuing yet another woman was too much. She’d witnessed it for years, but for some reason this time, after his refusal, it was painful to watch.

Needing a respite, she excused herself from Anna’s group of admirers.

As she pretended to drift toward the ladies’ retiring room, she wandered down the hall a bit further. A sigh of relief escaped when she found the library free.

Closing the door behind her, she wandered around the darkened room, careful of the furniture. When she located the Chesterfield, she settled at one end, kicked off her slippers and closed her eyes. The fright that had threatened to embarrass her was fading. She would never understand the nature of it. It didn’t happen in small confined places, or in dark rooms like her present sanctuary.

She took deep breaths, her body slowly relaxing and her fear melting away. Only to have it rush forward again when she heard the door click.

Her eyes flew open and she turned to see who was at the door. She could only see the outline of a man against the brightness of the lighted hallway. Hoping that he could not see her, she held herself perfectly still, barely breathing. All hope was lost as she listened to his footsteps draw near. But it was his voice that caused alarm to race through her.

“I see you made it here before me, minx.”

In which our hero makes a most thrilling mistake.

Cicely’s heart stuttered at the deep sound of Douglas’ voice.

Oh, no. No. No.
No.

She closed her eyes against the sudden press of tears and fought the urge to stomp her foot—which would have been difficult since she was sitting. Besides, the barefoot stomp was never as satisfactory as a heeled one. The heeled one made a very satisfying thump. She allowed a frown to disfigure her face. It was dark, what did she care? Douglas thought she was that Lady Tremount. Or some other trollop. She would almost think the situation humorous, if she didn’t find it so horribly painful.

She’d done nothing so hideous in her life as to deserve this.

Cicely didn’t open her eyes when she felt him sink next to her on the sofa. The cushion flexed under his weight. She waited for Douglas to realize he’d mistaken her for another woman as he slipped his hand over her cold, clenched fist.

“Awfully quiet, my lady. I’ve never known you to be so reserved.”

She opened her eyes. She was positive any moment he would guess her identity and his horror would be too much to bear. But she would, just as she had a few nights before, face it. It was best to confront his disgust for her and use it as a weapon to remind herself what he thought of her. She turned her head, drawing back when she realized he’d moved closer. She blinked, then blinked again.

With the drapes closed, the room was near pitch black, and it was understandable he didn’t know who she was. He expected someone else.

Douglas trailed his incredibly warm hand up her arm, his fingers gliding over the side of her bound breasts then farther up to cup her face. Gently, he pulled her closer. His heat surrounded her, warmed her, mesmerized her.

When she was just inches away from pressing her lips to his, he paused to say, “I’ve never known you to play reticent before. I have to say, I quite like it.”

His breath warmed her face as he spoke. Guilt held her tongue. She should tell him and end this embarrassing façade. A moment later, he brushed his lips against hers and every thought of righting his misconception dissolved. A liquid-silver thrill shot through her, sending her heart beating out of control, her head spinning. Sighing, she leaned into him. This was a fear she could learn to love.

Apparently thinking it an invitation—because truly it had been— Douglas raised his other hand to frame her face completely and deepened the kiss. She twined her arms behind his neck and returned the kiss with all the passion in her heart. The feel of his tongue against her closed mouth caused her to gasp. Before she knew what he was about, his tongue was inside, tasting her…tempting her.

God help her, she was putty in his large, capable hands.

She moaned. He slipped his hands down her body to her waist then lifted her, placing her on his lap. Warmth seeped into every pore, her flesh heating, her body vibrating. This wasn’t proper, that she knew.

Still…

She felt his heart beat through his shirt and jacket. That he thought her someone else didn’t matter. All that mattered was that at this one moment, the man she desired—and God help her, loved—desired her in return. Her, a nobody who barely turned the head of even the most boring of men. But this man, a gorgeous, seductive charmer, was kissing her as if his life depended on it. Somewhere in the back of her mind a bit of her better judgment prodded. With determination, she pushed the doubts away. She just wanted to be touched…to feel, to be felt.

He slid his hands to her back, urging her to him. She shifted her weight, rubbing her chest against his. Even through the fabric of her gown and the layers of her binding, the friction hardened her nipples.

Her bones melted as he moved from her mouth to the delicate skin just below her jaw. His lips felt so good. They burned a trail wherever they touched and when they slid from one spot to another, the fire lingered, pushing deep past her defenses, ingraining in her memory. Wanting— needing—more, she tipped her head to one side allowing him better access to her throat. He murmured something against her skin that she couldn’t grasp, but it thrilled her just the same. He moved on to her ear as she began to shift against him. The scrape of his teeth against her lobe had her moaning his name and threading her fingers through his hair.

“Catherine.”

The sound of another woman’s name on his lips, in a voice deepened with arousal, had the same effect as a bucket of cold water. Shame filled her as she realized that while Douglas thought her someone else, she had known the truth all along. And she had allowed him to think she was that other woman. She’d believed she could accept that. She was wrong.

Pulling away, she stumbled off his lap and landed with a thump on the floor.

“Catherine?”

Arousal still threaded his voice. She sensed him looking at her and she knew at any moment she would be discovered. Oh, lud, she didn’t want to face his pity and revulsion. She bit her lip to keep silent. She scrambled to her feet, bending to grab her slippers, then rushed to the door.

“Catherine!”

She couldn’t say a word because there was no doubt he would know who she was, but she did hear him rise to come after her. Panic gripped her insides as she fumbled with the doorhandle. When it gave way, she hurried through the door, praying no one was in the hallway. Thankfully, for once in her life, the angels actually heard her stricken prayers.

Without a backward glance, she slipped down the hall to the retiring room and breathed a sigh of relief upon finding it empty. After donning her slippers, she took in her appearance in the glass and gasped. A flush stained her cheeks, her lips were swollen and her eyes shone.

She looked like she’d been ravished, which was partially true. She would never confess it had been her. Before she could contemplate her excuses for being absent for so long, the door opened and three debutantes came rushing through, giggling.

They came to an abrupt halt in the doorway, two of them running into each other. If her nerves weren’t so frazzled, Cicely was sure she would have found it funny. Still, she offered them a smooth smile then scooted around them and out the door. It was time to return to the ballroom and pretend nothing at all had happened.

Douglas rushed to the door and into the hallway only to find it empty. He settled his hands on his hips. His shaft still throbbed from the encounter and his body burned. He’d never been so aroused from just a simple kiss.

Sighing, and trying to think of anything else to cool his ardor, he had to admit it was more than a kiss. So much more. He had never had a woman completely lose herself in a kiss. Her beautiful little moans had struck him to the core.

“Douglas.”

Catherine’s cool voice cut through his haze of memories causing his ardor to deflate. He turned and faced the one many called
The Angel
. She truly did have a celestial look about her with her light blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes and alabaster skin. She was usually the type of woman who attracted him. But at the moment, he couldn’t understand why he felt compelled to romance a woman with such a slender figure and a confident air.

“Catherine. Where did you go?”

“I have been waiting for you.”

“But—” He rubbed his forehead. “Where have you been?”

“I said I would meet you in the study.”

He remembered her saying that. So who had been in the room with him? “I’m sorry, I thought you said the library.”

She studied him for a moment, a look of confusion drifting over her features before resignation replaced it. “I think if you truly wanted to be there, you would have been.”

No accusation laced her tone. He had been ready for a fit of jealousy, although she had never shown that sort of behavior before. Married at the age of eighteen to a man in his sixties, she was now a widow known to have lovers, but was incredibly discreet. They were the same age and had been friends since they met. It was because of that he thought he needed to give her an explanation.

“Catherine—”

She shook her head and took his hand in hers. “Do not worry, Douglas. I knew this day would come and I am relieved for it. You need some happiness in your life. You deserve it.”

A burst of giggles turned their attention down the hall. Catherine gave his hand a friendly squeeze then let it go. She turned to leave.

“Catherine?”