Seduced At Sunset (13 page)

He continued to stare at her, then flopped onto this back,
bent his knees, and looked up at the rafters. He reached out and pushed the
bottom of the punching bag. It swung back and forth across the stall.

“I was in a foul mood last night,” he said, “knowing you
were there, doing Lord knows what with God knows whom.”

“I was
dancing
.” She wiped at
the perspiration at the back of her neck. “You could have come, you know. I
would have secured you an invitation, then we could have danced together. I
would have enjoyed that.”

He sat up again. “I told you, I don’t go to balls. Not in
London.”

“Then why are you asking me about it, as if I had been
disloyal by going without you?”

She stood up and brushed the dust off her skirts, then
went to fetch her bodice from the hook on the wall. She pushed her arms into
the sleeves and was fastening the buttons when Drake stood up as well and came
to assist her.

“Let me do that,” he said.

She stood in silence while he took over the task. Looking
up at his face, she studied the details of his many scars and wondered what he
was thinking.

“You didn’t
want
to come to the
ball,” she reminded him.”Yet you seem annoyed with me. Are you jealous?”

His blue eyes lifted. “Jealous? Yes. I want to thrash
every man who put his hands on you.”

She smiled at that. “Then you should come next time and
put on a show. The Prince and his Marlborough Set would love a scandal like
that. Fisticuffs in a ballroom. They would talk of nothing else for weeks.”

Drake fastened the last button at the bottom and turned
away from her.

“You are not laughing,” she said. “I was only joking.”

“I told you I want no part of the social Season.”

“But you want to be with me,” she clarified.

“Yes. Privately.”

“And then what?” She watched him move to a table in the
corner, pour a glass of water from a tin pitcher, and guzzle it. “You will
return to America and we will never see each other again?”

He turned to face her, wiped at his mouth, and tilted his
head to the side. “
Charlotte
...”

She scoffed at what she took to be a patronizing tone.
“What...? Am I not permitted to imagine that you might wish to accompany me
somewhere interesting? A museum perhaps. Or would we have to wear hooded cloaks
and masks?”

His eyebrows pulled together in a frown. “What is wrong?
You knew the rules when we entered into this.”

She made a fist and gently punched the leather bag. “Of
course I knew the rules. You were very clear about them. I am simply
frustrated, I suppose. It was not such a perfect night at the Halloway ball.”

“How so?”

She moved to the wall, leaned back against it, and crossed
her booted legs at the ankles. “I was missing you, for one thing, and none of
the gentlemen could distract me from thoughts of you. On top of that, one
particular gentleman, who I believe is destined to marry my mother, danced with
every other lady in the room before saying the smallest hello to her. He
eventually danced with her, but it felt as if his actions conveyed a message to
remind her that she has no claim on him. I was hurt and angry.”

“You speak as if it were
your
heart at stake, not your mother’s. How does she feel about it?”

“Oh, her feathers are never ruffled,” Charlotte replied.
“She insists they are just friends.”

“Maybe they are.”

Charlotte shook her head dismissively. “No, that cannot be
so. He was her first love, and she almost didn’t go through with her own
wedding because she couldn’t bear to leave him behind. They were desperately in
love, but were torn apart like Romeo and Juliet. Now my mother is a widow and
he is also free. He never married, in fact, which I believe is a testament to
his undying love for her. She is out of mourning now, and I believe with all my
heart that she deserves to live out the rest of her days with the man she never
stopped loving.”

“I am sure she deserves every happiness,” Drake said, “but
it sounds to me as if you are playing matchmaker and might want to consider
minding your own business.”

Charlotte was taken aback. “I only want my mother to be
happy.”

“But perhaps another marriage is not what
she
wants,” he said. “They are adults now, not children. I
am sure she knows her own heart.”

“I don’t agree with that at all,” Charlotte argued.

“Which part?” he said with a laugh, as if she were a fool.

Charlotte gaped at him. “I assure you, I know my mother
better than you do, and I am positively certain that she is lying about her
feelings. She loves him with every inch of her being, and always has, but she
is too proud or perhaps too frightened to admit it.”

“Why does she need to admit it?” Drake asked. “If they
love each other, it will happen on its own. They shouldn’t require
you
to act as their guide. It is not up to you to force
people to love.”

Charlotte crossed the stall to fetch her hat and riding
crop. “I don’t know why I brought it up. Perhaps I am too much of a romantic,
while you are, quite clearly, the opposite.”

She placed her hat back on her head, tucked in a few
errant wisps of hair, then pulled on her gloves. “I must go. I told my driver
to return in an hour. He will be out front by now.”

“I will walk you out,” Drake said as he pulled on his
shirt, then his waistcoat.

Charlotte turned to leave before he was fully dressed, and
he was still buttoning the waistcoat when he hurried to follow her across the
gravel courtyard.

“When will I see you again?” he asked just before they
reached the front of the house.

“I am not sure. I have some things to do this week. I may
keep my Victor Edwards identity a secret, Drake, but I still have a social
life, and it is very full.”

She stopped beside the coach, and the footman hopped down
from the box to lower the step. “Good day, Mr. Torrington,” she said.

“Good day,” he replied, just before the footman helped her
inside and shut the door.

Chapter Ten

Women
.

Drake ran a hand through his hair as he watched the coach
pull away from the curb. Lady Charlotte did not look back, and he wondered what
the devil he had been thinking back there in the stables. He’d actually
admitted to being jealous that she danced with other men. And that wasn’t all.

He should have kept his big mouth shut about her
matchmaking schemes instead of openly criticizing her and shining a light on
the fact that he had no romantic inclinations whatsoever. He had effectively
reminded her that this was a temporary sexual affair, and there was no danger
of his heart becoming involved because that was not what he wanted.

However, that particular assertion caused him some
distress there on the sidewalk as he watched the coach grow distant—for
he was completely flustered and angry with himself. Should he go after her and
apologize? Would that smooth things over?

Hell, he knew better than to argue with women over matters
of the heart. It was a losing battle every time. Hands on his hips, he paced
back and forth for a moment, then tried to sweep the argument from his mind as
he climbed the front steps. He entered the house through the front door, but
stopped in the entryway when he locked eyes with his mother, who appeared out
of the parlor.

“Who was that woman just now?” she asked, looking
displeased.

“No one,” he replied, and started for the stairs.

“Wait. I want to speak with you.”

He paused with one hand on the newel post. “What about?”

His mother cleared her throat. “Come into the parlor where
we can speak privately.”

With a heavy exhale, he followed her into the front room
and watched her close the door behind him.

“Sit down,” she said, uncorking the decanter and pouring
him a glass of brandy.

He accepted the drink, but said, “I prefer to stand.”

“Fine.” She moved to the sofa and sat down. “I saw you
just now, leaving the stables, half dressed.”

“I was training.” She knew he kept a punching bag in one
of the stalls.

“With a woman?”

He eyed her intently, took a sip of the brandy, and
grimaced as it slid hotly down his throat. “That is not your concern.” Then he
realized it was the second time in twenty minutes he had spoken similar words
to a woman.

“To the contrary,” his mother replied, “it is very much my
concern when you are carrying on a torrid affair with the daughter of a duke.
Don’t look at me like that, as if I have been spying on you. The Pembroke crest
was more than visible, emblazoned on the side of her coach for all the world to
see. It was parked out front for quite some time. It was Lady Charlotte, was it
not? The woman who required your assistance after her purse was stolen? Oh yes,
I know who she is. She is an attractive woman, the sort you’ve always
admired—tall, blond—but she is not for you, Drake. Surely you know
that.”

“I know no such thing.” He finished his drink and
irritably set it down.

“Don’t be a fool. You are only here for the summer, and
you are not part of her world. Besides, she is a spinster, as I am sure you are
aware, and I daresay she is clinging to her respectability by a mere thread.”

“How so?”

“She is far too independent, for one thing. They say she
has her own income. That she
earns
it. From
writing
.”

So it was not such a well-kept secret after all, he
realized, and wondered if Charlotte knew she was the subject of gossip.

Damn London Society and all its aggravating flapping
tongues. Did people have nothing better to do? There were certain social
circles in America where things were no different, especially in New York and
Newport, but the majority of plain folk were too busy working their way up in
the world to be bothered with such frivolity.

“I don’t give a damn if she has her own income,” Drake
said. “In fact, I respect her for it, and so should you. She does not rely on a
man for her happiness. She is intelligent and self-sufficient.”

His mother rolled her shoulders haughtily. “I see. Do you
intend to marry her then?”

He scoffed. “Did you not hear a word I just said? She is
independent. She is not seeking a husband.”

“Ah, there it is then,” his mother said. “The improper
nature of your acquaintance, just as I suspected. It is a secret, and no doubt
torrid, affair.”

He shook his head in disbelief.

“I just don’t understand how this could have happened,”
she continued. “You have remained hidden from the world since you arrived, like
some sort of night creature.”

He took a moment to still his temper. “I didn’t come home
to socialize,” he told her, “and I thought we discussed this already and put an
end to it. I am here to settle our financial affairs and see that your future
is secured. I have a life in America and I will be returning to it as soon as
possible. Other than that, how I live my life while I am here does not concern
you.”

His turned and strode from the room.

“What about Lady Charlotte?” his mother asked, rising to
her feet. “Is she aware that you will be leaving?”

He paused in the doorway. “Yes, she understands, so there
is no danger of heartbreak, if that is what worries you.” Though he doubted
that was the problem.

“Wait! Please, Drake. It is an improper affair. You
must
break it off.”

Drake frowned and turned to face her. “Why does it even
matter to you? Nothing else about my life has ever mattered before.”

She squinted irately. “You forget that I am always left to
mop up the scandals you leave behind. It will be
my
reputation that is tarnished if word of this gets out.”

“It won’t,” he firmly told her as he walked to the stairs,
suspecting that the affair was already over, for Charlotte had left on a very
bad note.

Charlotte stepped out of the coach, entered her house,
and handed over her hat, gloves, and riding crop to the butler who greeted her
at the door.

“Brandy, Lady Charlotte?” he asked, for he understood her
moods, and though he never spoke a word otherwise, or asked any intrusive
questions, he somehow took one look at her and knew when to bring tea and when
to bring brandy.

“Yes, thank you. To my boudoir, if you please.”

“Right away, my lady.”

A few minutes later, she flopped onto her bed and covered
her face with her hands.

What is wrong with me? Why did I walk
out on him like that?

Sitting up, she removed all her hairpins, ran her fingers
through her hair, and shook everything out to cascade freely down her back.

A knock sounded at her door, and her maid arrived with a
drink tray. “Would you like me to brush out your hair, Lady Charlotte?” she
asked as she set the tray on a table and poured the amber liquid into a glass.
“Or prepare a bath before dinner?”