Seduced (8 page)

He shrugged away the importance of the act. “You see, I worried that perhaps I had treated you as less than a lady yesterday both in your carriage and then later when we talked. But it seems I have misjudged you entirely. I never would have guessed.”

“Guessed what?” He arched a brow and gave her a knowing look. After a few seconds, she folded her arms and her jaw set. “Go. Away,” she ground out.

“You mean you don’t wish to discuss your lover with me?” he asked.

Her eyes went impossibly wide at his goading and then she stepped back, motioning him through the door where he leaned. “Get inside,” she hissed.

“So confusing—stay or go, stay or go,” he said with a grin. “You really must be more clear, my lady, or how is a man to know what you truly
want
?”

To his surprise, she caught him by his sleeve and yanked, dragging him forward and halfway into her foyer. He stepped the rest of the way in of his own volition and took a brief glance around. The entryway was fine, yes, with perfectly clean marble floors, cherry-wood furnishings and ornate frames surrounding expensive paintings. But the only things that spoke of Letitia were the fresh flowers in the vase on the small entryway table. They were lilacs that filled the room with feminine color and scent.

Letitia slammed the door and placed her hands on her hips, face flushed and lips trembling. “You are
nothing
but a cad!”

Jack flinched. She could have ended that sentence at the word nothing and it would have fit. To her that was what he was—nothing. Why couldn’t he remember that when he was in the room with her?

Just as she said the words, a tall, thin butler entered the foyer. He drew back at the sight of Jack.

“I’m so sorry, my lady, I didn’t realize we had additional company,” the servant said. “May I take your coat, sir?”

“No,” Letitia said at the same moment Jack shrugged from the jacket and handed it over with a smile.

“Thank you, my good man.”

The butler blinked at Letitia, waiting for her orders, and she let out her breath in a frustrated huff. “Oh good God,” she muttered. “Mr. Blackwood and I are going to the parlor, Crosby. We are not to be disturbed.”

“Shall, I send in additional tea or cakes, my lady?” the butler asked, shooting Jack increasingly concerned glances.

“No,” she hissed as she turned on her heel. “Mr. Blackwood won’t be staying long.”

She stomped away toward an open door and Jack shot Crosby a wink. “Women,” he said with a laugh.

“I-I—” the servant stammered, frowning as Jack followed Letitia into the parlor.

She was standing at the door as he entered and did as she had with the front door, slamming it behind him with all her might. He glanced at her as she paced past him. They were alone now. Behind a closed door. With an order not to be disturbed.

Didn’t she know what temptation that offered?

Perhaps she did, if appearances with her previous gentleman caller were to be believed.

“So, Letitia,” he began, moving toward the sideboard where he looked over the cakes that had apparently been laid out for her welcomed guest.

She spun on him. “
No
, it is my turn to speak. How in the world do you know where I live?”

He took a bite of a chocolate biscuit and chewed it thoughtfully, letting her stew as he ate. Finally, he said, “Unlike my own, the details of
your
whereabouts are not hidden. They are common knowledge. It took me less than two minutes to determine them.”

Her lips pressed together, thinning them. He frowned, as he preferred them full and kissable. Did the other man as well? Had he sampled those lips just as Jack had the night before?

Did it matter?

“Then answer my first question,” she said, slightly breathless. “
Why
did you come here?”

“I thought I had done so already. Weren’t you paying attention?”

“You claimed you came to apologize,” she said, her voice growing softer. “But I don’t believe that. I doubt you would apologize to
anyone
, but least of all me.”

He tensed. “Why least of all you?”

For a moment, she held his stare, but then she broke away, walking to the fireplace where she busied herself stoking the flames. “I am meaningless to you, I’m sure, Mr. Blackwood.”

He said nothing. She
should
be meaningless to him, and yet she had been in his mind since she unleashed the storm of her anger on him at his brother’s wedding ball. She had infected his thoughts. Even kissing her hadn’t stopped the torrent of unwanted desires that seemed to accompany this entirely unsuitable woman.

“I came here, didn’t I?” he said. “Does that tell you something?”

She straightened up with a gasp and faced him once more, her mouth slightly open, her eyes focused on him. He realized how serious he had sounded when he said those words, and forced himself to grin and act like it didn’t matter.

“At any rate, I found myself in front of your door, thinking I had offended you by taking liberties, by acting untoward as I am want to do. And what do I see but a man entering and exiting your abode. One you greeted and said farewell to with such intimacy. I was
shocked
to think that the very proper Lady Letitia would ever take a lover.”

Her cheeks were apple red now, the blush disappearing beneath the modest neckline of her blue gown. He wondered briefly just how low that color went, but shoved the thoughts away.

“You couldn’t be more wrong in your vile assumptions,” she said, setting the fire poker back in its place and walking toward him.

“
Vile
? Oh, then he isn’t doing it right, my lady,” he said, pushing her continuously even though he didn’t understand why. It was like he couldn’t stop now that he had started. He had to keep pushing.

She fisted her hands at her sides. “Not that I owe you any explanation, but the man you saw here today was Aaron Condit. He was my late husband’s solicitor and his…his friend.”

There was something in her tone that made Jack doubt her. And the jealousy he hadn’t earned, didn’t deserve, swelled in his chest even higher.

“You have been in Society long enough to know that just because a man was your husband’s friend doesn’t preclude him from being in your bed, my lady. Not after the man’s death. Hell, not before.”

Just as she had in the carriage the night before, she swung at him. He could have caught her hand again, but this time he didn’t stop her. Her palm hit his cheek with a loud
thwack
and the slight sting spread through his face. She could hardly harm a fly, but the message she sent was perfectly clear.

She held his gaze without hesitation, possibly for the first time since they met, and her eyes shone with tears. “You know
nothing
. You certainly don’t know me.”

He tilted his head. “Are you saying I
shouldn’t
have been surprised that you would take a lover?”

She recoiled and turned her back. Her shoulders slumped almost in defeat and her voice was very quiet as she said, “Just leave me alone, Mr. Blackwood. And leave my brother alone as well.”

He stared at her, knowing he should leave, as he’d known he should leave from the moment he rode up to her door. And yet he was drawn to her. He’d hurt her. And he’d meant to do it, as some kind of recompense for seeing her with another man.

But now that he had, there was no triumph to it. He never wanted to do it again. And he wanted to lay a balm on the injury he’d already caused.

Why and how was that possible? He never gave a damn about anyone. Especially silly titled ladies. They were only worth the baubles they would give or he could steal.

And yet this one’s baubles didn’t interest him as much as her face did.

He circled her, coming to a stop when he looked at her head-on again. She lifted her chin, looking at him and letting him see her crumpled, pained expression. Without thinking, he lifted his hand to touch her chin, sliding his bare fingers along the satiny flesh there.

“I have no control over what your brother does, Letitia,” he said softly.

Her gaze had softened as he touched her, and it emboldened him. He smoothed the pad of his thumb over her full bottom lip, feeling the slightest hint of moisture there. It woke a longing in him that he didn’t understand, didn’t want, and couldn’t deny all at once.

He leaned down, waiting for her to stop him. When she didn’t, he touched his mouth to hers. She made a soft sound in her throat and her arms wound around his neck to draw him closer. Her mouth opened immediately this time and he delved in, tasting her, testing her. She met his stokes with her own, timid at first, but gaining certainty as his arms tightened around her slender waist.

He wanted her so desperately. He wanted to strip her of her gown and lay her out in front of the fire. He wanted to explore her with his mouth, his tongue, his fingers and finally, his cock. The hard cock that was throbbing beneath the flap of his trousers, demanding release.

He pulled away instead. There was one thing he never lost and that was his control. Right now it felt thin as a razorblade and just as dangerous and cutting. He continued to hold her, staring down into her upturned face. She wanted him just as much as he wanted her. She was trembling with the force of it, even though he knew she would deny those urges if asked.

“I don’t have a lover,” she whispered, blinking like she was confused.

He knew how she felt. He didn’t feel exactly stable either. He released her from his embrace at last and stepped back.

“It’s a shame if that is true, Letitia,” he said, unable to stop his words any more than he’d been able to stop himself from kissing her. “A woman like you
should
be conquered, pleasured, given to and taken from.”

Her lips parted in surprise and he groaned. Goddamn it, but she was like fire and he didn’t care. He wanted to be burned right now more than he had ever wanted anything.

Instead he moved to the door of the parlor. “It seems I have as little control over myself as I do over your brother,” he said. “And I should go before I lose what I have left. Good afternoon, my lady. And…”

He trailed off. She moved toward him a step. “And?”

He squeezed his eyes shut at the break in her voice, a telltale sign of the weakness that matched his own.

“And I’m sorry,” he said. “I was cruel and you didn’t deserve that. I have no expectation you can forgive me. Good day.”

He left then, fled the house without waiting for the jacket he had left for the servant. He met the groom halfway to the stable and swung up on his mount wordlessly before he thundered away. Away from the house behind him, away from the woman inside of it. But he couldn’t ride away from the need that had begun inside of him.

A need he feared would not be fulfilled until he had Letitia in his bed. A need that was impossible to say the least.

It had been two days since her encounter with Jack Blackwood, but Letty still saw his face everywhere she went. Currently she was certain he was lurking in the reflection in the cup of tea she held. She stared into the liquid, hating that she was so preoccupied by such a devilish man.

“Letty?”

She jerked at the sound of her name and lifted her face to find that Audrey, Claire, Juliet, Mary and Josie were all watching her. She blushed.

“Oh dear, was I woolgathering?” she asked, knowing the answer.

“Yes,” Mary said with a kind smile. “We’ve said your name three times to no avail.”

Letty set her cup aside with a sigh. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Audrey insisted. “It’s clear you are distracted by very serious thoughts. Perhaps we can help in some way?”

Letty bit her lip. Although she had spoken to Aaron about this subject a few days ago, his male perspective on the situation wasn’t quite as comforting as she knew her cousins could be. It was so very tempting to allow the truth, the whole truth, to boil over.

Except she couldn’t do that. She wouldn’t reveal her late husband’s secrets. The fact that Jack Blackwood was the man who haunted her every thought was also not something she could say. Claire would certainly tell War and word would get back to Jack.

Humiliation would be the only result, to say the least. How he would crow.

“Letty?” Juliet pressed, leaning closer. “You’re roaming away in your mind again.”

Letty shook her head. “I’m sorry. It’s truly nothing serious, I assure you. Nothing I want to trouble you all about.”

Claire leaned forward and caught her hands. “Dearest Letty,” she began, her tone low. “If there is one thing this family has learned, it is that secrets are far more damaging than even the darkest truth. I understand your not feeling comfortable sharing, and I certainly would be the last person to press if you insist on keeping your counsel, but I don’t want to see you rot from the inside with whatever you carry.”

Rot from the inside. It was an apt description of how Letty sometimes felt, holding back the truth from everyone. Knowing that same truth would ultimately keep her from her own future just as much as it had destroyed her past.

She shook her head slowly. Her cousins were sympathetic, non-judgmental people. Couldn’t she tell them
some
portion of the truth? Maybe if she said some of it out loud, it would have less power over her.