Pride and Fire (3 page)

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Authors: Jomarie Degioia

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical

BOOK: Pride and Fire
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Across the room she spied the two beauties accompanying Lord Leed earlier. She’d watched him escort them into supper and, with one on each arm, the truth had hit her squarely in the eye. The girls were obviously his sisters.

Smiles beamed from their faces, faces bearing startling similarity. They looked quite like twins and both resembled their brother with dark brown hair and blue eyes. She watched the two carefree young girls with a different sort of envy now. They were certain to find happiness here among the
ton
.

Feeling far older than her twenty years, she took herself out onto the terrace and stared unseeing at the star-studded sky. What was wrong with her? True, over the past two years she hadn’t found any man as attractive as Lord Leed. True, last year that man had wanted nothing to do with her and that sentiment apparently remained unchanged. But why couldn’t she at least take some enjoyment in the social whirl of the Season?

“A moment of your time, Sister.”

Lord Leed’s deliciously deep voice sent Michelle’s nerves to tingling and she instinctively shrank back against the wall. The light spilling from the ballroom didn’t reach her, so she observed him undetected as he led his sister out onto the terrace. She watched with growing interest as he turned a scowl on his sister.

“Catherine,” he began, “I realize all of this is new to you, but—”

“Oh, Paul,” Catherine cut in with a wave of her hand. “I see no scandal in dancing with anyone who asks me.”

“Sister, it makes you appear…” He trailed off, apparently searching for the right word.

Michelle grew angry on the girl’s behalf and began to push away from the wall. How dare he call her improper! To her utter surprise, Catherine laughed gaily.

“You’re such a silly prig sometimes, Paul.” Catherine kissed him on the cheek and took herself back into the ballroom, leaving her brother speechless, his mouth agape.

Michelle held her hand over her mouth to keep her laughter from bubbling forth as she sank against the wall once more. He was a prig! A very proper, very restrained prig. She watched as he now stared out into the night, puzzlement on his face, and almost felt sorry for him.

She thought to return to the ballroom before he spotted her but couldn’t see a way past his broad shoulders. She crossed her arms and prepared to wait for him to take his leave. It wasn’t to be as she had hoped. Apparently unable to deny himself, a gentleman smoked a cigar at the other end of the terrace though she couldn’t see the culprit. The smoke tickled her nose and she sneezed.

Lord Leed turned and pinned her to the spot with his brilliant blue eyes. “Lady Michelle?”

Michelle smiled nervously up at him. She lost her smile as she watched his brows lower to his more familiar glacial expression.

“I saw your sisters a while ago, Lord Leed,” she rushed out, thinking to turn his attention. “They certainly seem charming.”

He nodded, running his eyes over her. “I enjoyed our dance.”

“Catherine seems very much at home in this social setting.” Why was she prattling on so? “Such lovely girls, your sisters.”

He stared at her babbling mouth. “Yes.”

His icy stare was beginning to wear on her. She looked down at her hands as she brushed them over her skirt. “You must find all of this very tiresome.”

When he simply shrugged in answer she chanced a look at him. He still wore that chilling expression and she was tired of it.

“Pray tell me how two such affable young girls could have a brother so cold and—?”

“Cold?” he cut in.

Michelle blinked as her mouth fell open, her breath gone.

Lord Leed stood ramrod stiff, his hands fisted at his side. “You think me cold?” he rasped.

She shrank back against the wall. He took two strides to tower over her and she stared up at him in amazement. Cold? Oh, no. She could feel the heat pouring from his big body, burning in his beautiful eyes. Here was the heat she’d seen earlier. Oh, my.

 

Paul realized his mistake immediately but couldn’t step away. He smelled Michelle’s perfume, that light lavender scent she’d left behind at Kane’s that afternoon. His eyes were drawn to her parted lips as she took in shallow breaths. He couldn’t resist the lure of those full lips. He had to taste her.

He bent his head to hers. “Is this cold?” he whispered as his lips brushed hers.

She leaned into him, letting her mouth touch his in a feather light caress. He began to apply more pressure, the honey-sweet taste of her intoxicating. He heard a soft groan and dimly realized it came from him.

She pulled away, breaking the exquisite contact of her lips against his. She stared up at him, her brows drawn together above her eyes.

Paul straightened. “Michelle, I…”

Michelle turned and fled, bumping into Chester as she rounded the corner. Paul heard her murmured apology, her voice breathy and weak.

Chester stepped onto the terrace. “Leed, what the devil happened between you and the fair Michelle?”

“Never mind,” Paul said. “The chit doesn’t signify.”

Chester swallowed whatever he was going to say. Wise man. Paul read the puzzlement on Chester’s face, though. He could guess its cause. When Michelle was in his thoughts he acted strangely, cool and withdrawn. And at this moment he felt downright belligerent. He’d felt the fool at Kanewood last year and it seemed matters hadn’t changed.

“Leed,” Chester began. “What is it between the two of you?”

After a long moment Paul turned to him. “Damned if I know.”

Squaring his shoulders, he turned and strode back into the ballroom. He had to find Michelle and apologize.

Elizabeth was the first to see him upon his entrance, and she ran to him. He stood still, his eyes searching the room for the red of Michelle’s hair or the green of her dress.

“We’re not leaving yet, are we?” Elizabeth asked.

“Hmm?” He looked down at her. “No. Yes.”

“But we only just got here,” she wailed.

“Hush, Elizabeth,” he said without anger. “Please find Catherine and tell her I’ve called for the carriage.”

With a pout, Elizabeth flounced off to do as he asked. Paul searched the room one last time. Where the devil was she? Damn. His apology would have to wait.

A short while later, after thanking their host and hostess, he escorted two very disappointed girls home to their father’s townhouse and took himself to his own.

 

* * * *

 

Michelle found a secluded spot in the drawing room of the Winslow home. She didn’t know how she made it through the ballroom—it was a noisy, colorful blur. She closed the door and leaned against the panel, her breath coming fast. When Lord Leed had kissed her she’d been shocked. One moment he’d worn that cold expression she’d come to despise and in the next his eyes had flashed blue fire. He’d overwhelmed her senses pressing so close, desire evident in his gaze. He smelled so good, like soap and heat. And his mouth was so soft, so warm… She tingled all over just thinking about his lips on hers.

There was no way she’d venture back out into the ballroom. She’d wait here until she was certain he and his sisters were gone. Only then would she take her own leave. She crossed to a settee covered in gray brocade and sat, resigned to passing a long, lonely evening.

When she thought enough time had passed, she opened the door of the drawing room and peeked out. She sought out the Winslows and thanked them for the wonderful evening. Seeing as she’d spent much of it in their drawing room, she felt a bit guilty. Surely she hadn’t been missed. Not by her suitors and not by Lord Leed.

The carriage was brought around. She climbed inside and rested her head on the cushioned back of the seat. She wouldn’t think about Lord Leed’s kiss. About his big body pressed so close to hers. His heat. His taste. She willed her mind blank of such provocative thoughts.

“Impossible.”

Chapter 3

When Michelle saw the lovely Talbot sisters enter the ballroom the next night she could scarcely breathe. Relief swamped her when she saw that their brother didn’t accompany them. Lord Chester and the handsome Lord Roberts escorted the girls this evening. The eldest, Catherine, sought her out after supper and told Michelle she so wished to appear as worldly as she. Michelle took her comments in good humor, wishing she had a drop of the girl’s carefree nature. She couldn’t help but think about Lord Leed’s admonitions to Catherine at the Winslow ball. And that naturally made her recall what happened after he’d discovered her there on the balcony. Oh, that kiss…

She welcomed the diversion when she saw Lord Leed’s sisters at another function two nights later. She could bear the attentions of simpering suitors for only so long before she felt as though she’d burst, and she found the evening passed swiftly when she spent time in Catherine’s company. She did, however much against her good intentions, inquire after the girl’s brother.

“And how is Lord Leed these days?” she asked Catherine with what she hoped sounded like casual interest.

Catherine looked puzzled for a moment, then grinned. “Oh, yes! You danced with my brother at the Winslow Ball.”

“Um… yes,” Michelle allowed.

“It is passing strange,” Catherine said, her brow furrowed. “Paul used to enjoy taking us to these parties, but now he bristles if I so much mention the possibility.”

Michelle struggled to keep her expression neutral as her stomach twisted. Surely Lord Leed couldn’t detest her so?

“Lady Michelle,” Catherine asked. “Are you all right?”

“What?” Michelle saw the concern on Catherine’s face. “Yes. I…I suppose I’m just a bit hungry.”

To Michelle’s relief Catherine took her at her word and no more was said of the girl’s bothersome brother that night.

When she returned home, Michelle readied herself for bed. She sat at her vanity and stared at her reflection. Why did Lord Leed stay away from the functions? Did kissing her make him so uneasy he wouldn’t escort his sisters for fear of running into her? Their caress had been innocent, really. Despite the way it had made her feel, they’d barely touched. Did he think she would press him for some sort of declaration? Foolish man.

She’d managed to remain free from the marriage trap thus far, even when one money-strapped baron tried to compromise her in full view of the matrons last Season in Hyde Park. She’d kept her virtue intact when another so-called gentleman attempted an assignation in the gardens at the Porter soiree. She didn’t want any man who only desired her face, form and finances, and Lord Leed hadn’t shown his desire to be either suitor or seducer.

She crawled into bed and squeezed her eyes shut. As sleep tickled the edges of her mind, she was seized with the thought that compromise and fallen virtue were almost tempting when she recalled the fit body she’d sensed beneath Lord Leed’s formals. No, she wouldn’t fall. But if she did it wouldn’t be so horrible to land directly on top of him.

 

* * * *

 

Paul sat brooding in his townhouse poring over the file on the desk, a blessedly quiet evening stretching long in front of him. He’d stayed away from the social rounds for the past week, though he couldn’t help feeling like a coward. His reaction to the lovely Lady Michelle played over in his mind yet again, along with his actions at the Winslow ball. He’d been rude to her. He’d scolded her. He’d kissed her, for God’s sake. Out on the terrace at an event attended by nearly all of Society. He hadn’t pushed it further, and thank God Chester was the one who’d come upon the two of them together. Loyal Chester, one of the scant few who knew Paul’s secrets. Now another added to the list.

Paul purposely never romanced a woman of the
ton
, and he wasn’t about to start now. He was in no position to offer matrimony at the present time. One look at his ledgers reminded him of that sorry fact. Pity that a young woman of her status would expect nothing less. He only prayed that his brief taste of her wouldn’t prove his undoing.

He tried to focus his attention on the folder. It was from a new client, one whose good opinion was as valuable as the fee he’d pay. Paul wrote speeches for his clients, speeches to present in Parliament. No motion was given consideration until someone had spoken of it for at least three hours, or that was how Paul saw it. But he was gifted with the pen, and able to make a sound argument from any point of view. The sticking point for him was that he rarely saw any merit in the arguments presented. He was more open-minded than his friends as a result of his work, however.

Not tonight, apparently. He closed the folder in front of him and rubbed his hands over his face. Ah, when he gave more than a moment’s thought to their kiss, he could imagine the taste of her, the feel of her sweet mouth opening beneath his. He’d never felt such a rush of desire in his life. He wasn’t inexperienced in matters of a sexual nature. He’d bedded many women since reaching adulthood and always left them with smiles on their faces. But Michelle was a lady, as pure as she was lovely. He was a rake to have thoughts of her that were anything but chaste. But when he’d touched his mouth to hers… He couldn’t think about it without desire heating his blood.

Chester and Viscount Roberts, another good friend of Paul’s, were happy to escort Catherine and Elizabeth to the functions in Paul’s absence, claiming the girls’ enthusiasm breathed new life into the stuffy affairs. So on these long evenings he vowed to continue his work on his speeches and attempt to keep a certain red-haired girl from his mind.

“Not bloody likely.”

He reopened the folder and studied the words until they swam before his eyes.

 

* * * *

 

A few days later, Roberts and Chester stopped by Paul’s townhouse on their way to pick up the sisters.

“You two almost look respectable,” Paul said. “Why Roberts, you may even find yourself in the trap before you know it.”

“Never mind, Leed.” Robert eyed his perfectly tied cravat in the hall mirror and winked at Paul. “We’re escorting the twins tonight.”

“Are they proving a hindrance to your romantic endeavors, Roberts?” Paul asked.

Roberts flashed a grin at him, his gray eyes sparkling. “Perhaps I would like the chance to pursue someone whose brother won’t have me drawn and quartered if we dance together more than twice.”

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