Pride and Fire (19 page)

Paul’s eyes scanned the room, stopping when they fell on the Earl of Kanewood and his wife. He led Michelle over to where they stood, surrounded by mutual friends.

Paul shouldered his way easily through the throng. “Kane,” he said. “Wonderful to see you.”

Geoffrey turned, a crooked smile on his face. “Hello, Leed. I finally persuaded Becca to leave the little lordling for the evening.”

“Do hush, husband.” Becca threaded her arm through Geoffrey’s. “Hello, Leed. Michelle.”

“It’s a pleasure to see you, Rebecca,” Michelle said. “It’s been too long since we’ve had a good, long chat.”

“I daresay we’ll barely be able to hear each other over this din,” Becca said.

“It is loud,” Michelle agreed.

Paul leaned down then, his head close to hers. “Why don’t you and Rebecca go find yourselves some chairs on the other side, love? I have something I need to discuss with Kane.”

Michelle nodded her agreement, tilting her face up to accept his light kiss. She turned to Becca with a smile. “Perhaps we should stroll to the other side of the hall, Rebecca?”

“Splendid idea, Michelle.” Becca sighed. “I can barely hear myself think standing so close to the orchestra.”

Geoffrey kissed his wife and the ladies made their way across the crowded floor. A slender man suddenly blocked their path.

“Excuse me, I…” the man began. “Cousin Michelle!”

Michelle cringed to find Reginald Thomas leering down at her. “Hello, Reggie.”

Reggie turned his eyes on Becca then, raising his brows in appreciation. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your lovely companion, cousin?”

Michelle reluctantly bowed to social obligation. “This is Rebecca Kane, Reggie. The Earl of Kanewood’s wife. Rebecca, my cousin, Reginald Thomas.”

Reggie bowed to her, his eyes narrowed. “Very pleased to meet you, Lady Kanewood.”

Becca inclined her head. She turned back to her friend. “Come, Michelle. There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

Michelle was grateful for Becca’s offer of diversion and gave her an enthusiastic nod. “If you’ll excuse us, Reggie,” she said, turning away from him.

Reggie suddenly grabbed her arm, stilling her. She looked down at his fingers and he immediately dropped his hand. “I’d like a word with you, cousin.”

Michelle wanted nothing of the sort, nor did she want his eyes fastened to her cleavage another moment. But she didn’t want to appear rude in front of Becca. “I’ll join you in a moment, Rebecca,” she said.

Michelle saw Becca’s reluctance but she gave her a reassuring nod. She watched until Becca joined Paul and Geoffrey on the other side of the room.

Michelle whirled and hurried toward the row of chairs, Reggie close on her heels. “What do you want, Reggie?”

Reggie placed his hand over his chest, benevolence in his stance. “My dear Michelle. Is that any way to speak to family?”

Michelle glared at him. Reggie ignored her anger and motioned for her to take a chair. Reluctantly she did as he asked, curiosity getting the better of her. What was the scoundrel about? She perched herself on a chair and straightened her shoulders, finally turning to face him.

As he sat beside her, she took in his appearance with disdain. He wore a waistcoat of bright purple, his cravat deep green. His jacket was burgundy, his breeches a ridiculous shade of yellow. Reggie’s red hair was styled in an effeminate manner, the curls falling over his wide forehead. Michelle’s gaze fell on his black eyes, eyes that were once more firmly fastened to her bosom.

Disgusted, she held her hands in fists in her lap. “What do you want, Reggie?”

Reggie smiled slyly, leaning toward her. “You look lovely this evening, cousin.” He reached out to finger the emeralds she wore. “These look vaguely familiar. I take it these are part of the Thomas estate? Ah, but your father left
you
the jewels.”

Michelle recoiled as his fingers touched her flesh.

He chuckled at her reaction, dropping his hand from her. “Does my touch unnerve you, Michelle? I would think by now you’re used to being, um… manhandled.”

“What?” she snapped.

“Shh. Do calm yourself,” Reggie said. “I merely referred to your union with the viscount.”

“Paul is a true gentleman, Reggie. I’m quite certain you would have no notion of such behavior.”

“A true gentleman, then?” Reggie grinned. “I heard he frequented the pubs before your hasty nuptials. He must have picked up a few tricks from the wenches, I daresay.”

She gasped at his words.

“I could show you some tricks of my own, dear cousin,” he said in a hoarse whisper. “I daresay you would enjoy the lesson.”

Michelle had heard quite enough. She started to stand, but his hand on her wrist checked her movement.

“Take your hand from me,” she instructed through clenched teeth.

“You should have married me, Michelle,” he said fervently.

She looked at him, her eyes wide. The intensity in his dark eyes chilled her.

“What?” she asked, confounded. “What on earth would you—?”

“If you’d married me, I’d be the one sharing in the Thomas fortune, the jewels. Not that Leed fellow.”

Reggie received nothing from the late Earl of Thomasham’s estate, as Michelle well knew. The title had gone to Reggie’s father, a man who apparently had as little respect for Reggie as Michelle did.

“Paul has his own fortune, Reggie.”

Reggie snorted. “So you say,” he hinted, a glint in his eyes. “And his other… talents are much touted, damn him. Cost me more than one advantage, I daresay.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked.

“Oh,” Reggie began, “I was simply referring to your husband’s—”

“Are you having a pleasant visit with your cousin, wife?” Paul cut in.

Michelle looked up at Paul with profound relief. Paul took Reggie’s measure and she could see him dismiss her cousin. Smart man, her husband. Reggie, however, appeared oblivious.

His black eyes narrowed before a smooth smile curved his mouth. “Leed,” he said, coming to his feet. “Michelle and I were having a nice chat. Weren’t we, love?”

Paul bristled at the man’s use of the endearment. He’d no doubt seen how familiar Reggie had been with her, touching her skin. Surely he’d also seen her revulsion.

Michelle stood then, grasping Paul’s arm with both her hands. “I would adore a dance, husband.”

She forced herself to ease her grip on him, but she couldn’t fully hide her distress.

“Michelle,” he began, “what has this scoundrel done?”

Michelle shook her head, mute.

“We’ll finish this conversation at another time, cousin,” Reggie said then, glaring in her direction. He turned to Paul and bowed. “Leed.”

Paul nodded curtly and they watched the man make his way across the room. He turned back and Michelle shook her head.

“What is it, love?” he asked.

“He and I never got along as children, and now…”

“And now, what?”

She waved one hand in the air. “I don’t plan to waste another moment on Reggie. Dance with me?”

He studied her for a moment longer and she tried to set Reggie’s odd conversation from her mind. He smiled, and Reggie was a dim annoyance.

“Certainly,” he said.

He led her out onto the floor. As he twirled her about, she noted with displeasure that Reggie watched from near the refreshments. When Paul glowered at Reggie her cousin paled and turned away.

“Paul, you look quite ferocious.” She reached up to stroke his hard jaw. “I daresay the expression is compelling.”

His expression shifted slightly, determination still in his eyes. “Thank God Becca came to me about the lecherous fool.”

“Becca?” She swallowed a twinge of guilt for her unfortunate connection to her cousin. “Reggie did favor her with one of his patented leers, I’m sorry to say.”

“Presumptuous dandy.”

“I agree.”

“He touched you, Michelle.”

She forced a smile to feign her ease. “I don’t give Reggie a moment’s thought or worry, Paul. Nor should you.”

“Let him attempt to put his hands on you again.” He glared in Reggie’s direction once more. “Family or no, I won’t hesitate to eliminate him from the Thomas line.”

Chapter 18

They danced for a while, finally stopping to take their meal in the supper room. If Michelle was frightened by Paul’s violent words, she didn’t show it. In fact, relief had shown in her gaze at his threat against her cousin. Good. There would be no tears if Reggie were to fall on the grass at dawn.

They dined in the company of their friends and Michelle made mention of the ball they would throw at Thomasham.

“Michelle, we would love to visit Derbyshire,” Becca said.

Geoffrey readily agreed, as did Chester and Roberts.

“The hunting is excellent in that part of the country,” Geoffrey said.

“Early to bed, early to rise, then,” Roberts said with a roll of his eyes. “Abysmal.”

“Roberts, you like to shoot as much as the rest of us.” Chester laughed.

“I suppose we’ll have to find other entertainment during the daylight hours, then,” Michelle sighed.

“You will manage quite well, wife,” Geoffrey teased Becca.

“Needlepoint and matchmaking, Michelle?” Becca asked.

The single gentlemen groaned in response while Paul just smiled.

As the party reentered the ball room, Geoffrey drew Paul to the side. “I’m glad you brought me in on your father’s troubles, Leed. I’ll keep my eyes and ears open.”

Paul nodded. Nothing more was said, but he knew he could count on Geoffrey. If Paul’s father was involved in anything improper, the Earl of Kanewood’s contacts would hear of it.

Long after supper concluded, Paul glanced at Michelle as she stifled a yawn. He caught the motion and drew her to his side. “Are you tired, love?”

Michelle looked into his eyes. “Take me home, husband.”

She didn’t need to utter one more word. They hastily gave their farewells, promising to write all of the party at Thomasham. Paul led her over to their hostess, thanking her for the wonderful evening.

“The party was simply lovely,” Michelle said with a smile. “A fitting end to the Season, to be sure.”

The elderly woman beamed at the kind words.

Paul bowed and placed his hand on the small of Michelle’s back, urging her toward the door. As they went outside to await the carriage, Paul saw Reggie watching with interest from his vantage point across the room. He dismissed the dandy in that instant, focusing instead on getting Michelle home and into his bed as soon as possible.

Inside the carriage, Michelle snuggled close to him. He draped his arm over her shoulders. “Did you have a nice time?”

“Oh, yes. It was most pleasant spending the evening with Geoffrey and Rebecca, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

The carriage rolled on, his mind occupied with his father’s troubles. Geoffrey had contacts in the gentry, but in low places as well. If his father were foolish enough to risk his position—

Michelle reached up to stroke his cheek. Paul glanced down at her, reading the fire smoldering in her eyes. His breath caught. He was suddenly well aware of the closeness of the carriage, of her body pressed closely to his.

“Ah, wife,” he said, his voice low. “You’re putting notions in my mind.”

Her lips curved in a smile. “What notions would those be, husband?”

“Michelle.” He caressed her cheek, her neck. “I fear we don’t have time for what I have in mind.”

His fingers trailed down to where the daring bodice met her sweet flesh. He deftly slipped his hand inside, cupping her breast. His other arm encircled her as he brought his mouth to hers. She returned his kiss with ardor, moaning her pleasure. Her fingers caressed him through his breeches, the fabric soon stretched taut with his growing need.

“God, love,” he rasped. “Not here. Not now …”

“Oh, yes,” she insisted, working the top button free.

He swore softly and set her away from him. Her breath coming in little puffs, Michelle kept her hot gaze on him as he opened the window and called out to the driver.

“Yes, My Lord?” the man shouted in answer.

“Twice around the park,” Paul instructed.

He slammed the window shut and Michelle leaned into him. He grabbed her by the shoulders and studied her for a moment. “You make me want you in the blink of an eye.”

“I want you, Paul.”

Paul grasped the back of her head and captured her lips once more. Michelle ran her hands over him, pushing his jacket off of his shoulders. He helped her, throwing the garment to the floor. She loosened his cravat, unbuttoning his shirt to reach inside. He nibbled on her ear, on her neck.

She leaned her head back as his lips found the swell of her breast. “Please.”

It didn’t take much work on his part to free her breasts from their confinement in the low-cut gown. He rasped his tongue over first one nipple then the other. When he took one sensitive bud into his mouth, she sighed and straddled him.

He reached up under her skirts, feeling her silken heat. Her thin drawers gave with a soft tearing sound. She cried out as his fingers entered her and he nearly disgraced himself.

“Help me, sweetheart,” Paul rasped.

Michelle looked at him, a question in her eyes. He fumbled with his breeches, his control slipping. She managed to free him and grasped him gently in her hand. He groaned, loud and low. He brought his hands to her bottom once more.

“I need you, love,” he said. “Now.”

He lifted her and brought her down on him. Hard. She threw her head back, a moan escaping her. She clutched at his shoulders as he held her tightly against him, trying to regain some of his control. His breathing was labored, the sound harsh in the close quarters.

She moved her hips, first only slightly, then with more vigor. His hands gripped her hips as he caught her rhythm, thrusting up into her again and again. She sobbed his name as she climaxed and he gave in, groaning as he drove into her one last time.

Paul rested his head on the back of the cushioned seat, his hands caressing her back. Michelle sighed and placed little kisses on the base of his throat.

“Paul,” she whispered into the crook of his neck. “You have the most wonderful notions.”