Sin and Sensibility (19 page)

That was a very good question
. “Since you asked me for assistance, and since I don’t want to be pummeled by the Griffin brethren for damaging you. Or rather, I wouldn’t want to have to pummel them when they threatened me.”

“So your concern is merely out of self-preservation?”

He smiled. “You already called me a conundrum, I believe.”

She sighed. “So I did. Might we settle for leaving them a note?”

Valentine was surprised—and extremely relieved—that she’d agreed. “Splendid idea. Less chance for anyone to get hurt.”

Luckily he’d ended up with a spare scrap of paper dur-162 / Suzanne Enoch

ing the purchase of Cobb-Harding’s promissory notes.

She produced a pencil from her reticule and informed her brothers that she was not boat racing, and would be dining at luncheon with the Marquis of Deverill.

That done, Valentine hired a hack and sent the note to Griffin House. He nearly hired one for himself and Eleanor, but in broad daylight the chances were too great that someone would see them entering a closed vehicle without a chaperone. This whole propriety thing was a damned nuisance all the way around, but it remained at the base of both Eleanor’s quest and his obligation to Melbourne.

“Where to?” Eleanor asked, apparently having come to the same conclusion, since she wrapped her fingers around his sleeve.

Perhaps propriety had its place, after all. He looked over at her, her gray eyes alight with both amusement and a touch of anxiety. Cobb-Harding had made an impression with her—and though it was probably a good lesson considering how close to the edge she’d chosen to walk, it was still one he wished she hadn’t had to learn.

“Prospero’s is close by,” he returned, naming the least offensive sidewalk dining establishment in the area.

She nodded, and they headed north away from the river. For a few moments they walked in silence, while Valentine congratulated himself on averting both a catastrophe and a direct intervention from her brothers. Well, she’d averted the catastrophe on her own, but if Melbourne had confronted her, she might very well have leaped into a boat just to be contrary.

“Do I seem like I’m being a complete fool?” she asked, leaning a little closer against him.

His damned heart beat harder. “Not that I’ve noticed.

Are you referring to anything in particular?”

Sin and Sensibility / 163

“I feel as though I’m meandering about making grand claims with no idea how to accomplish anything. And nice as your…kisses are, they seem to confuse the issue.”

Nice?
He could sympathize with the confusion bit, though. “You don’t know what you want. You’re hardly unique in that, Eleanor. At least you’ve recognized that you want
something
.”

“I have no idea why you’re being so…understanding, Deverill. You’ve made fun of Zachary for the way his cravat is tied. And I…happen to have overheard some rather unflattering remarks you’ve made in the past about members of my sex.”

“About your sex, yes. But not about you.”

Her fine cheeks colored. “And why is that?”

Hm. She wanted her lesson in freedom; she needed to realize that kisses were only the beginning where scoundrels such as himself were concerned. On the other hand, he didn’t want to frighten her, especially after Cobb-Harding’s boorishness. The proper thing would seem to be to leave the choice up to her. “How straightforward would you like me to be?” he asked quietly.

Eleanor stopped, facing him. “Actually, I would like you to kiss me again,” she stated.

That was straightforward
. “I would like to kiss
you
again.” Valentine took a breath, praying that his cock could control itself until he got out of this mess. “But I won’t.”

“What if that’s the adventure I want, Valentine?” she asked softly.

He went hard. Good God. “Then I would suggest that you choose another. Two kisses for an innocent is my limit. After that, she doesn’t get to remain innocent.”

“You can’t—”

“You said you didn’t want to be ruined, Eleanor. Be-164 / Suzanne Enoch

lieve me, the next time I wouldn’t stop at a kiss, and you
would
be ruined.”

She pulled her hand free. “Then why are you here? You claim to be a selfish, mysogynistic heathen, and yet you arrived this morning just in time to make certain I didn’t get smashed into Westminster Bridge and drown. And you promised to assist me with Stephen. Why?”

If he answered that question truthfully, he would never have to worry again about the temptation of kissing her soft, warm skin. He wouldn’t get the chance if he whispered a word about his agreement with Melbourne to her. “I’m trying to be a friend, Eleanor. It’s not something I’m accustomed to, and certainly not with a female.

It’s a new experience for me, and when I kissed you, it was a mistake.”

“And the second time?”

“An even bigger mistake.”

“A mistake,” she repeated, putting her hands on her hips. “That is not very flattering.”

Despite his frustration and the growing discomfort of his groin, Valentine grinned. “You’re upset that I don’t intend to seduce you, after all?”

She scowled. “I—”

“Be grateful. Remember, if there’s a scandal, you marry—how did you describe your nebulous potential husband?—a tree stump. You’re flirting with scandal just walking in public with me. So you need to choose. Are you looking for one adventure and a return to your safe, secure life, or are you looking to upend everything you know and pay the consequences?” He moved closer to her, breathing in the lavender scent of her hair. “Because if you bait me again I’ll act on it, and then you will pay, and I won’t.”

Sin and Sensibility / 165

“I know the consequences.”

“Knowing in theory and knowing in fact are two different things. So I know you’re lying.”

She flushed. “Isn’t that my prerogative?”

When she turned her gaze away, hurt, he drew a breath.

Christ, she’d surprised him. Even suggesting she might want him to be her adventure proved well enough just how naive she truly was. In any case, being rude and threatening obviously couldn’t dissuade her from liking him—she’d put him into some sort of daisies and roses fairy tale. And to himself he could admit that it would have been easier to be cold and brutal if he’d wanted to be excluded. “So tell me who you’re considering for marriage,” he suggested.

“Why, so you can make fun of them?”

“You asked for help. I’m offering it.”

“Just so long as you can remain on the periphery, yes?

Two kisses, but no more than that because you might feel something?”

And he’d thought
he
was the one who would have to be direct. “That’s
my
prerogative,” Valentine said stiffly.

He took another breath. “Come on now, Eleanor. Back to you and your experiment. At the least I may know whether any of the prospects have some unsavory habits unknown to their peers.”

“I’ll consider informing you. I thought you were going to come up with an adventure for me, though.”

Valentine forced a smile. “I’m still working on that particular task.”

They reached the spread of outdoor tables at Propero’s, and he handed her into a chair. As he expected, several acquaintances were there ahead of them, undoubtedly having been more enamored of the idea of watching scull races than actually doing so. And he heard the murmurs, 166 / Suzanne Enoch

the speculation as to why Deverill would be accompany-ing Lady Eleanor anywhere, and especially without a chaperone.

“Are you certain it’s not considered a scandal to be seen in my company?” he asked in a low voice, seating himself at her right elbow.

“Melbourne trusts you.
I
trust you,” she returned, though her gaze as she took in their fellow diners wasn’t quite as carefree as she pretended.

“Very well.” He signaled a footman. “Two glasses of Madeira,” he ordered when the man scampered over, “and whatever your best meal is.”

The footman bowed. “Immediately, my lord.”

“Take your time. We’re in no hurry.”

Eleanor watched as he placed the order. Her brothers were the same way; even if the person to whom they were speaking had no idea who they were, the “my lords” and bowing began immediately. It was as if they simply had an aura of nobility about them that everyone else recognized.

Without any other effort on his part, Deverill took over the café. The head waiter approached to pour the Madeira himself, and spent nearly five minutes discussing the rapturous quality of their roast pheasant, known throughout England and the Continent.

It was foolish for her to be angry with him. He’d been honest, which she’d requested and which was one of the central things she admired about him. She was the one with the questions, and for heaven’s sake, he’d agreed to answer some of them. And if he’d refused further intimacy, of course it was for her own good, whether it felt that way or not.

“Yes, that’ll do,” Valentine finally said, when the man seemed ready to weep as he discussed the complicated Sin and Sensibility / 167

marination technique. “Leave us alone now, until it’s ready.”

The waiter bowed. “Yes, my lord.”

Eleanor chuckled. “For a debauched rakehell, you certainly seem able to command attention.”

He snorted, apparently as willing to forget their argument as she was. “My billfold commands attention. I could be a corpse, for all they care.”

“I disagree, but what do I know? He barely glanced at me.”

Valentine slid his chair a few inches closer to her. “The waiter didn’t, but the rest of the café knows precisely who you are and who you’re here with. And they all want to know why.”

He made the question sound so…wicked. “Why? Because you offered to take me to luncheon.”

“So I did.” Valentine tapped his glass of Madeira against hers and took a swallow. “Gads. It’s like pretty-colored water.”

“No one forced you to request Madeira. Ask for whiskey. Isn’t that your liquor of choice?”

“It does the most damage in the least amount of time,”

he agreed. “I’m attempting to remain sober this afternoon.

Relatively so, anyway.”

Sober. For her?
Stop it, Eleanor
, she chastised herself.

More likely it was too early in the day to imbibe, even for the Marquis of Deverill. He’d agreed to help her with Cobb-Harding, but that didn’t mean she suddenly had to view him as some sort of hero. It was better not to.

Best to keep to safe topics, especially after she’d been such an idiot and actually suggested that he kiss her again—and
he’d
rebuffed
her
. “Any news regarding Cobb-Harding?” she asked, taking a rather large swallow of her own drink.

168 / Suzanne Enoch

“I’ve taken care of it. Or I will have, rather, as soon as I return home.”

“Might I inquire as to how you’ve stopped him from blackmailing me?”

The delicious smile curved his mouth again. “A gentleman would never tell.”

“Yes, but—”

“Yes, I know. I’m not a gentleman. Very well, I’m blackmailing
him
.”

She froze for a moment. “With what?” she returned carefully. Good heavens, what had Deverill done to Cobb-Harding? Knowing the marquis, there were so many possibilities, she couldn’t begin to guess.

“Unfortunately, I’ve had to resort to the dullest of methods. Money.”

“Money.”

His eyes dancing, Valentine took another sip of Madeira. “You look so dubious. Shall I explain?”

“Please do.”

“Cobb-Harding is a gambler. And not a very proficient one. I’ve merely bought up all of his promissory notes.

As soon as I return to Corbett House I’ll send him a letter informing him of that fact, and demanding that he either pay me for them or leave the country—in either case keeping his damned mouth shut regarding a certain dastardly attempt he made to steal a woman’s virtue.”

“‘Dastardly?’” she repeated, hearing the anger in his voice. “That doesn’t sound like your usual vocabulary.”

“I was being considerate. That’s not the exact phrasing I intend to use in my letter.”

“What if he simply repays you for the promissory notes?”

Sin and Sensibility / 169

Valentine laughed, the sound devoid of humor. “He won’t be able to. Not unless he finds an…He won’t be able to.”

Eleanor studied the marquis’s expression for a long moment. “You were going to say that he would only be able to repay the debt if he finds another heiress to marry, weren’t you?” He would have answered, but she shook her head at him. “I’m not hurt by his motives; I expect them, to a certain degree, and from every man who approaches me. For God’s sake, I knew it wasn’t love.” She frowned.

“Then I apologize for not being more direct, but you’re wrong.”

“You must always be direct with me, Valentine. But just what am I wrong about, pray tell?”

“About every man’s motive for approaching you being money.” He gave a short smile. “I mean, far be it from me to protest your cynicism, but you’re a very attractive young lady, Eleanor. Sometimes a man’s sensibilities aren’t able to run much beyond the though of sex.”

She felt her cheeks warm. “I did ask you to be direct, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did. I’ll stop, if it bothers you.”

“It doesn’t.” It felt more like a privilege. Still, the vain part of her, the part that was insanely attracted to him, couldn’t leave it at that. “Do you always speak so frankly with your female friends?”

His brow furrowed. “I don’t have any female friends.”

“You certainly know enough women.”

His jaded smile appeared again. “Yes, but I don’t talk with them.”

Oh, my
. Now she was embarrassed again, and they were dreadfully off-topic. “I see,” she returned vaguely, 170 / Suzanne Enoch

“but I was about to make another request of you when you distracted me.”

To her surprise, his smile deepened, lighting his eyes in a way that made her breath catch. “I distracted you?”

And now he was doing it again. Concentrate, Eleanor
.

He was right; he could seduce her in a second, and until it ruined her, she’d be thankful for it. “Only momentarily.