Teach Me Under the Mistletoe (15 page)

Strathern hovered in the doorway, his face hidden from Hugh. The man’s soft chuckle put Hugh in mind of a wild dog that had found its way into a sheep’s pen. He curled his hands into fists. Apparently the lovely Lady Caroline had achieved her goal and acquired the attention of the man she desired.

Hugh melted into the shadows and worked his way along the manor’s outer brick wall. He’d no desire to witness any romantic tryst between the two of them.

* * * *

Hugh’s advice had been spot on. A thrill had chased along Kitty’s spine when she’d caught Lord Strathern’s eye and then quickly looked away. More than once throughout the evening, she’d seen him in the corner of her vision, staring, wondering. But when he made the slightest movement in her direction, she’d always stepped away and lost herself in the crowd. It had been pure inspiration, stepping through the French doors when she’d caught him looking at her yet again. When he’d followed, she had feigned only mild interest.

And then had surprised herself with the realization that she was not feigning. At some point her interest in the man had waned. That must be wrong. Exhaustion perhaps had stolen away the passionate excitement she had felt a mere handful of days earlier at her parents’ dinner party.
I spent too much time walking to the follies, too much time seeking out Hugh. Mama was correct… I should have rested for this evening’s festivities.

“Will you honor me with a dance?” he asked, lifting his elbow in her direction.

Perhaps a dance would do the trick, rekindle her interest. She pushed her mouth into a smile and linked her arm in his. “Thank you. I should like that.”

A quadrille was forming as Lord Strathern led her to the dance floor. Kitty looked up to find they’d been paired with Ellie and Walter. Her sister raised one elegant eyebrow and stared hard at the two of them as they prepared for the dance. Then the music started, and Kitty put Ellie’s apparent censure out of her mind.

As they whirled and twirled, crossed over and changed partners, Kitty was able to ignore the stab that haunted her heart. The little twinge that told her this was all wrong.

The dance ended amid laughter and joking and Strathern led her from the dance floor.

“Excuse me,” she offered when she bumped shoulders with a man heading onto the dance floor.

When she received no answer, she glanced up. His face flushed ruddy, Randall stood before her, with a laughing Lady Penelope clinging to his elbow, her neckline indecently low, one round breast pressed into Randall’s upper arm.

“Er… er, K-Kitty,” stammered her official escort. “L-lady Penelope and I w-were just—”

“Come along, Randall.” Penelope moved her bosom from his person long enough to tug him forward. “They’re already setting up, and we’ll miss the dance.” Over her shoulder, she cast a smile at Kitty, the gleam of victory in her dark eyes impossible to miss.

“It seems your escort is otherwise occupied at the moment,” murmured Strathern. “Why don’t we partake of some orange punch?”

Stunned by Randall’s betrayal, Kitty nodded and allowed the lord to lead her off.

It shouldn’t matter. Randall wasn’t the one she wanted. It shouldn’t bother her so that he’d fallen to the gorgeous Lady Penelope’s obvious allure.

It doesn’t matter. It’s far less complicated this way.

She turned on her own charm and swept a glance at the man on whose arm she found herself. Oh, my, he
was
handsome. Any woman would be fortunate to find his attention focused on her. Kitty smiled. Apparently she was
not
just any woman. She was Lady Caroline, daughter of the Earl of Strickland.

When Strathern bypassed the refreshment table and led her up the stairs, away from the salon, she didn’t question him. Smiling tenderly, he guided her into the dimly lit drawing room. Capturing her gaze, he purposefully closed the doors. The click of the latch echoed loudly throughout the room.

“I hope you’ll forgive me. I often find large gatherings overwhelming with all the people.” He gestured around the room. “Sometimes it’s nice to get away from the noise and inane conversation to a place where I can just enjoy the company of a beautiful lady.”

Flutters of apprehension rose in her middle as he steered her to the settee in front of the fireplace and seated her then left to step to the sidebar.

When he returned, he’d shed his dress gloves. In each hand, he held stemmed glasses of amber liquid.

“A little brandy to revive your spirits,” he said, as she accepted the glass he offered. His smooth voice sent shivers along her spine, raising the fine hairs at the back of her neck. He sat next to her, not quite close enough to touch.

She didn’t want to offend him by moving over but that didn’t matter in any case, since she had nowhere to go.

“You dance beautifully.” He sipped his drink and indicated she should do the same. “I thought so when we danced at the dinner party but had no chance to tell you.”

“Thank you, Lord Strathern.” Kitty covered her nervousness by lifting the glass to her lips. The brandy splashed across her tongue and burned its way down her throat. Somehow she managed to recover without choking.

He’d noticed her. She’d captured his attention, and they had yet to kiss under the mistletoe. Suddenly shy, Kitty nodded, waiting for the thrill of her conquest. Before she could process the empty feeling in her chest, Strathern nodded at her brandy again. Obedient without knowing why, she sipped again. The burn was less intense the second time, the flavor more pleasing. Kitty took a third drink.

“Please… might I convince you to call me Roger? We are, after all, acquainted, are we not?” After another sip, he set his glass aside and turned sideways in the seat to face her.

She swallowed another gulp of her drink and set aside the glass, certain the spirits would go to her head if she drank the entire thing.

“I wanted to approach you at Lord Rosemont’s ball last season but the timing just never seemed… right.” Roger drew a line across the top of her hand.

Perhaps if she wasn’t wearing lace gloves, she might have felt a little electrical charge the way she had with Hugh. “A… p-pity you didn’t,” she whispered. “I should have liked that.”

He pulled his lips into a smile that revealed a row of even white teeth. “Well, then… I suppose I’m pleased that I found the bravery to speak to you this evening.”

Roger brushed the backs of his knuckles up her left arm, paused at her shoulder, then crept to the lace at her neckline.

Kitty held her breath as he leaned in close. The graze of his fingertips at her neck felt like a crawling insect. It took great effort to stop herself from leaping off the settee. Only a young girl would feel so nervous, she admonished. A lady would accept his attention and appreciate the fact that he seemed to be enjoying her company.

His breath, when he came near, reeked of the brandy. Kitty stopped breathing. It would feel nice. It had to feel nice. Hugh’s kisses had warmed her inside, sparking darts of heat that traveled outward. She wanted Roger. Surely his kiss would feel as nice.

He struck like a viper, claiming her lips with harsh possession, grinding against them, pressing them into her teeth until she whimpered with the sting. She struggled but he tightened his grip. When had his other hand cupped her shoulder. He tugged at the neck of her gown until it moved, exposing her flesh. With a groan, he relinquished her lips and dragged his lips along her neck, pressing a trail of wet kisses until he found her shoulder. The stab of pain at the base of her neck shocked her.

He bit me!

“Stop. Please.”

She began to thrash about in earnest, pushing at his chest, but he held her down with his body, moving over her and placing insistent kisses along the lace, moving toward the center of her chest. She dug her nails into his neck and twisted in his arms but he would not be dislodged.

“Oh, come now,” he growled. “Don’t play the coy maiden with me. I know the truth of it. Your friend, Penelope was all too happy to tell me of your experienced ways.”

“No,” Kitty moaned, gasping for breath. “You have it wrong. Please… get up.”

But the more she fought him, the more feverish his kisses became.

“Help!” she sobbed, but her voice came out as little more than a peep. She tried again. “Help me!” she shrieked. “Help!”

The weight of him lifted, startling her with his sudden absence. Then it registered that she was free, and she scrambled to her feet, trying desperately to right her gown, dismayed to find he had ripped the shoulder. She turned to thank her rescuer.

“Oh, my,” she whispered, as myriad emotions washed through her.

Hugh raked her with a glance but then turned his attention to the man picking himself off the floor. He drove his right fist into the middle of Lord Strathern’s face, causing the man to stumble backward. The brandy glasses toppled, splashing amber liquid across the side table to drip onto the sage green Axminster carpet.

Strathern managed to remain on his feet, though his shoulders sagged. A trickle of blood leaked from his nose. He pressed the back of his hand to his mouth and winced. Then he spat a stream of crimson. With a feral growl, he charged Hugh.

“No!” screamed Kitty.

But Hugh was ready for him. Crouching low, he met the attack with a fist in the gut followed in an instant by a punch to the jaw. Strathern reeled backward, shook his head and came back to the fight, striking a glancing blow off Hugh’s cheek. Hugh sidestepped and used Strathern’s momentum to send him crashing headlong into the drum table.

Hugh pointed at Strathern, murder glinting in his eyes. “Stay down!”

From beneath the broken table, Lord Strathern held up one hand in apparent surrender. Then the hand dropped to the floor, limp and unmoving.

Gasping for air, Hugh stood still for a moment. When he turned to face her, his breathing had evened somewhat. His hair had fallen into his eyes during the fight, and he shook it out of his face.

“Are ye harmed, m’lady?” he asked stiffly. His upper lip was puffed on the right with a bloody split up the center. His left eye had swollen as well and was already a deep plum.

With a cry, Kitty hurried toward him. “Hugh… how did… I…” The room blurred into whorls of color. She felt herself pitching forward, powerless to stop the fall.

Strong, familiar arms closed around her and hauled her upright.

“Here, now. None o’ that. Ye’re fine, Lady Caroline. He canna’harm ye any further.”

Drawing comfort from the steady thump of Hugh’s heart beneath her cheek, Kitty didn’t want to move. “You saved me,” she whispered. “How did you know? How is it you were here?”

Hugh smoothed a hand over her hair as he cradled her close. “I gather the evening didn’t go as ye’d planned?”

She raised her head to find him smiling down at her. Even battered and bleeding, he managed to steal her breath away.

“What is the meaning of this?” bellowed her father from the doorway. “Caroline! What in blazes is going on in here? Who is this — this ruffian?”

Kitty stiffened. She hadn’t a notion where to begin explaining. She pulled out of Hugh’s embrace, disappointed when he dropped his arms and stepped back.

Randall flanked her father on one side, Jenny’s Post Captain Stephen on the other. Beneath the rubble of the broken table, Lord Strathern stirred.

“Oh, heavens!” Grant Tyndall motioned for Stephen and Randall to assist the injured man. As they rushed to do his bidding, her father marched into the room. “Caroline, I’m waiting for an explanation. Is this the sort of behavior I can expect from you?”

“I-I’m s-sorry, Papa. I… er… Lord Strathern and I shared a dance… and then… we came in here for some… refreshment.”

One of her father’s bushy black eyebrows shot upward. “Refreshments have been plentiful in the salon all evening,” he said, his tone laced with ice.

“If I may, Lord Strickland…” Strathern approached, dabbing his bloodied mouth and nose with a handkerchief. “Your daughter brought me here, said she wanted to…
see
me in private.”

Kitty stared at her father in horror. “That’s not true!” She rounded on the deceitful rogue. “You know you’re lying. You suggested we seek refreshment and then you steered me this way.”

“Is that how you recall it?” Reptilian eyes glittered in the candlelight as he looked to Grant. “Either way, sir, your daughter was… most accommodating.”

“Accom—” Her father’s face turned deep crimson as he sputtered. “Are you telling me, sir, that you and my— That you have ruined my daughter?”

“No!” cried Caroline. “Not for want of trying, but—”

“To my shame, sir, that is exactly what I am stating.” Strathern raked her with his eyes, but the heat reflected in their depths made her shiver.

“Enough! Caroline, go to your room before you’re seen in that—” He gestured toward her, his lip curled in distaste. “—in your current state. Lord Strathern and I shall retire to my study to figure out what shall be done.”

“Please… forgive your daughter. She’s merely embarrassed that we were… caught.” He stood straighter, somehow managing to arrange his expression into the perfect blend of charming contrition. “I’m prepared to offer marriage, Lord Strickland. As soon as it can be arranged.”

“No!” Randall finally spoke up, but her father brushed the protest aside.

A gasp from the doorway had them all turning. Kitty’s mother stood, one hand at her throat. Joining Louise, Jenny stepped into the room and closed the double doors.

She pinned Kitty in a narrow-eyed stare. “What have you done?”

“Nothing,” snapped Hugh, stepping up to stand next to Kitty. “She’s done nothing wrong.”

Grant stepped closer and pushed Kitty out of his way. “You’re the new groom. What the deuces are you doing here?”

“Rescuing your daughter.” Hugh cast a glare filled with hatred and disgust at Strathern. “From the likes of him.”

Her father sputtered. “Now see here—”

“Beggin’ yer pardon, m’
lord
,” began Hugh, his brogue thickening. His eyes flashed in the candlelight as he looked from her father to Strathern and back. “But a father who takes the word of a known scoundrel over that of his own daughter is no father in my estimation.” He drew himself up taller, his gaze burning with fury. “Yer daughter told ye the way it went. She wasna lyin’. I happened by and heard cries for help through the window. When I came in to find this man attempting to force himself on Lady Caroline—” He crossed his arms over his chest and drew a shuddering breath. “
Attempting
, my lord. He didna’ have the chance to do her harm because I stopped him. No woman deserves such treatment, and I find it dismaying that ye’ll listen to his accounting while ignoring the needs of yer own daughter.”