Sin and Sensibility (12 page)

Henry reappeared, a glass of punch in either hand. The polite thing would have been for Deverill to make his excuses and give way. Instead, Valentine merely sent the younger man a single glance. Paling, Anderton stammered something that sounded like a request for forgiveness and vanished.

“Valentine,” she chastised.

“What? I was merely saying that if I was seeking freedom and sin and romance, I’m not sure I would be spend-Sin and Sensibility / 99

ing my evening here. And as for husbands, you might—”

“Shh,” she returned, though Miss Sanford’s playing was enthusiastic enough that she didn’t think anyone could overhear them. “I’m not trying to completely ruin my life; I’m trying to improve it. I have no intention of forgoing my more quiet evenings, or requests to socialize with my friends. You do things for your friends, don’t you?”

“From time to time.”

Well, she’d made an opening. Now was the time to see whether she had the courage to leap through it.

“Valentine, would you…do something for
me
?”

He stayed silent for so long that she began to worry he would refuse her. She looked sideways at him. His own gaze was on her face, his expression unreadable but his green eyes glittering. Eleanor swallowed. If he ever realized how much time she’d spent thinking about him lately, she was doomed.

“What did you have in mind?” he murmured back.

A kiss. Your hands on me
. “I need a guide.”

“Are you going to Africa?”

“Don’t tease. Not that kind of guide. Not precisely.”

“I’m listening.”

“I don’t know how long Melbourne will honor our agreement,” she said slowly, hoping that she hadn’t mis-read him last night and this morning, and that she could indeed trust him. “But I do know that I won’t have another opportunity when he declares this one finished. I want to find a husband, but that’s not all I want to do. I want to have a moment where I feel…free. And I don’t know how to go about it. I think you could guide me, help me figure out what I need to do.”

100 / Suzanne Enoch

Somewhere far below their feet, Lucifer was laughing at him. Valentine knew it, even though the banging of the pianoforte overwhelmed the sound of anything more subterranean.

“You don’t want me for a guide, Eleanor. I’m not very nice.”

“My experience says otherwise. Who else would I trust for such a thing? Mr. Cobb-Harding?”

This time he was sure he could hear devilish laughter.

“Sin and trust aren’t compatible. One betrays the other.”

The slow smile touched her mouth again. “Then why are you protesting, my lord?” she asked.

Coming here had been a bad idea. It had been another of Melbourne’s “safe” events, but he hadn’t been able to resist. And now she was asking him to teach her how to sin. “You’re my closest friend’s sister,” he grunted. “I doubt he would appreciate if I assisted you.”

“You’re correct. He would prefer that I sit in the morning room and embroider until he can find me some dull, proper husband. Then I’ll be expected to pop out a few children, don a matron’s cap, and host tea parties.”

“Isn’t that what all women want?”

She looked as though she wanted to punch him. “I can’t speak for all women, but it’s certainly not what I want.

It’s not
all
I want.”

“Shh,” came from behind them.

Ordinarily he wouldn’t have cared whom he might be disturbing, but tonight he was grateful for the interruption.

A female had never set him back on his heels before—and certainly not a chit ten years his junior. “Find a husband first,” he put out, in a last effort to avoid becoming entangled, “and let him teach you what you need to know.”

“What he needs me to know, you mean,” she countered.

Sin and Sensibility / 101

“I will be the one to decide what and how much I want to experience.”

Where in the world had this come from
? Sweet little Eleanor Griffin had definitely grown up, and in ways he’d never expected. “Perhaps we should continue this conversation later,” he suggested, trying to give himself a little more time to think. His cock had already decided it wanted to help, but for once he intended not to listen.

“Yes,” she agreed.

“Good. Now who is that playing—”

“Why don’t you take me driving in Hyde Park tomorrow morning?”

“What? Me?”

She grinned again. “You’ve already admitted to rising before noon.” Her gloved fingers discreetly brushed his sleeve. “Please, Deverill? Valentine? I don’t know what else to do. And I don’t want to make another mistake like last night.”

He sighed to cover the shudder of his muscles. “At eleven. And have a damned chaperone.”

“I will. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“I’d hold on to most of those for later. I don’t doubt you’ll regret using them.”

“I won’t.”

Perhaps not, but he would. Hell, he already did.

He’d noticed Shay Griffin seated several rows behind them. From the glazed expression in his eyes the middle Griffin brother had apparently lost the coin toss and been forced to escort Eleanor. After he heard from Zachary about the horse incident, the brethren’s protectiveness toward their sister made more sense. Considering what he’d seen firsthand last night, he was glad she hadn’t protested Shay’s presence.

102 / Suzanne Enoch

What surprised him more was Eleanor’s seeming determination to break from her family’s wishes and carve her own path. If she’d been a male, she would have been expected to make her own way. But she was definitely not a male. And in his experience chits didn’t defy those who controlled their money and their future; they con-nived and manipulated beneath the surface while out-wardly behaving as complacently and compliantly as milk cows.

The first set of performances ended, and Eleanor excused herself to go congratulate Lady Mary Howsen.

Valentine considered it an adequate performance at best and that, coupled with his distaste for conversing with blushing, stammering virgins, was enough to convince him to remain seated.

“The strongest drink they’re serving tonight is punch,”

Shay said, sinking into Eleanor’s vacated chair. “It’s a blistering combination, bad music and sobriety.”

Wordlessly Valentine reached into his coat pocket and produced a flask of whiskey. He handed it over, keeping an eye on the host and hostess as Charlemagne took a long swallow.

“You’ve saved my life,” the middle Griffin brother muttered feelingly, returning the flask.

Valentine took a swallow himself before screwing the lid back on and dumping the thing back into his pocket.

“It does dull the pain a little.”

“So I know why
I’m
here,” Shay commented, sending a glance in his youngest sibling’s direction, “but what the devil are
you
doing here? Melbourne sent me because he assumed nothing short of God himself could drag you here tonight.”

“I just wandered by,” Valentine returned, repeating the Sin and Sensibility / 103

lie he’d told Eleanor. The fewer versions of the tales he had to remember, the easier time he’d have of it. But it hadn’t been God who’d convinced him to enter. It had been that horned fellow who obviously had no regard for, or loyalty toward, the already fallen.

“You and Nell seemed quite chatty.”

Now would be the difficult part. “She thinks I’m the epitome of freedom and adventure, and she wanted some direction in finding her own way there.”

Shay blinked. “And so she asked
you
?”

“Why not? I am irresistibly charming, and not one of her brothers.”

“You know,” Lord Griffin said slowly, “this could be to our advantage. You’re supposed to be keeping an eye on her anyway, and if she’s chatting with you she can’t be encouraging ne’er-do-wells like Cobb-Harding or Anderton. God, the last thing we need to hear is that she’s eloped with some professional gambler just because she thinks Melbourne handed her too many rules.”

“‘Elope’?” Valentine repeated, lifting an eyebrow. “She said she’s looking for a husband, but you think she’s that desperate?”

“I think she’s looking to escape. And now that Melbourne’s opened the door, I doubt she’ll voluntarily fly back into the cage.”

“Did you tell him your opinion of this?”

Shay blew out his breath. “Several times. I’ve been ordered to abide by the agreement for as long as she does.”

“Well, I’m supposed to take her driving tomorrow so she can attempt to convince me to assist her,” Valentine commented, making an effort to sound reluctant and put-upon. He
was
reluctant, though not for any reason Shay 104 / Suzanne Enoch

could possibly realize. “I don’t suppose you have a list of acceptable spouses for my reference? It would be easier if I knew who I was supposed to sponsor.”

“I’m certain Melbourne has a list, but I’m not privy to it. Don’t you think that’d be a bit suspicious, anyway, if you were to suddenly begin pointing out potential husbands? Especially since they’re likely to be gentlemen you’d ordinarily never speak a word to.”

“That dull, are they?”

“Compared with you, Admiral Nelson is dull.”

He shrugged, unable to argue with that. “I’m just trying to repay my debt to Melbourne and free myself for decadence and debauchery again.”

“Hm. Really, then, her request should make that even easier for you.”

“I don’t see—”

“I mean, if she thinks she’s learning something nefarious from you, she can’t be parading about and causing a stir now, can she? And then hopefully Melbourne will come to his senses and put a stop to this before she can actually do anything questionable.”

It was too late for that already. And she’d been exploring on her own, without anything but her own nose to guide her into trouble. With his assistance, and even without his active participation, there was no telling what might befall.

Valentine reflected that he should have stayed in this evening. All he needed was for someone else to encourage him to spend time with Eleanor, when what he should do was stay as far away from her as possible. “You can’t possibly want her to spend time with me,” he stated. “Not in public or for any reason. I’m the wolf that mamas warn their daughters about.”

Sin and Sensibility / 105

Shay grinned, clapping him on the shoulder. “Yes, but you’re
our
wolf at the moment, now aren’t you? And you know the rules where Nell is concerned.”

With his last breath of sanity, Valentine uttered another protest. “This is
not
what Melbourne asked me to do.”

“It will be, as soon as I return home and tell him about it.”

Scowling, Valentine pushed to his feet. “I’m warning you, Shay. This is a bad idea.”

“No, it’s perfect, because you know what’s going on.

Eleanor’s already asked you to help her out,
and
you’re one of our cronies so we know her reputation is safe with you.” He chuckled again. “She may be the only female whose reputation
is
safe with you.”

“Ha ha,” Valentine grumbled, and headed for the door.

He’d landed precisely where he didn’t want to be—in the middle of a family quarrel, and with an obligation to both sides. And a definite lust on one.

The safest, most logical route would seem to be for him to play the poor example that he was to the utmost, and convince Eleanor that she was better off safely back in the Griffin fold. Then it would be her own decision to forgo using his services, and at the same time the end of her rebellion would free him from his obligation to Melbourne.

He paused in the doorway to look back at Eleanor, chatting with the Howsen sisters. His abdomen tightened in pure lust. And the devil laughed again.

“He’s late,” Eleanor said, pacing the foyer.

“Yes, my lady,” Stanton returned, turning his head to watch her stride back and forth.

She felt restless and agitated, and sitting demurely in 106 / Suzanne Enoch

the morning room to wait for Deverill’s arrival would have driven her mad. Even pacing only moved her feet at a quarter of the speed her mind raced.

It made so much sense, recruiting the marquis for her plans. If she wanted to learn how to be carefree, who better to teach her than the most carefree man in London?

It also made sense that any man he knew and liked would also be possessed of those same qualities—so perhaps he could be the one to point her to her future husband. She certainly wasn’t going to marry one of the dull, dim crowd just because Melbourne allowed them to speak to her.

Yes, she felt attracted to Lord Deverill, but that had nothing to do with her decision to include him. Nothing at all.

Her only hesitation was that as titillating as she found his presence, he was a friend of her brothers. He was relatively safe, and he was familiar. And he, like any of her brothers’ male friends, knew the rules.

“Rules,” she grumbled, cocking her hat a little more jauntily on her head as she paced. That was why she needed to use Valentine to meet someone new. The rules.

The rules about not touching Nell, not taking her seriously as a female or as anything but a…a…a puppy dog. Yes, that was it, pat her on the head and send her on her way with an admonition to be a good girl.

Well, damn it all, she was tired of being a good girl.

Admittedly her first foray had gone horribly wrong, but she wouldn’t be so unwise in her choice of companion—or activity—again.

A sporty curricle turned up the drive. Eleanor walked out onto the portico to draw a breath as the Marquis of Deverill pulled his matching pair of gray horses to a halt.

He wore a complementary gray coat with a black waist-Sin and Sensibility / 107

coat and trousers, the image of a proper nobleman—except for the devilish twinkle in his green eyes.

“Good morning,” he said, doffing his gray beaver hat as his liveried tiger jumped from the back of the curricle to hold the team.

“You’re late,” she complained, mostly to give herself a moment to take in the sight of him and to remind herself that she’d requested his presence.

“I thought this had something to do with freedom,” he drawled, hopping to the ground. “I freely decided to remain in bed this morning.” He flashed a grin. “I tossed and turned all night.”