Tempting a Proper Lady (14 page)

His words sent a thrill through her even as he led her into the spirited polka.

Joy bubbled up inside her. How long had it been since she had felt the excitement of a man's arms around her as they stepped to the music? She had danced once with Lieutenant Allerton only days ago, but that experience could not compare to the whirlwind of being in Samuel's arms.

He never looked away from her as he guided her expertly around the room. His dark eyes held an intensity that made her pulse trip over itself. “You have not answered my letters,” he murmured.

“I know.” She bit her lower lip in guilt, and his gaze dropped to her mouth. Passion bloomed low in her body, loosening her muscles. She relaxed in his arms, letting herself lean against him a little more. “I have been thinking about the situation, and I believe I have come to a conclusion.”

“If your conclusion is that you regret what happened at the inn—”

“No.” She met his gaze squarely. “No regrets.”

He seemed to relax. “Good. I did not want to offend you.”

“You appear to have been honest with me, Captain.” Her lips curved in self-deprecating humor. “'Twas not your fault that I did not want to hear that honesty at the time.”

He raised his brows. “And now?”

“Now I have come to believe that perhaps you were right. About a lot of things.”

“Excellent.”

“I need to talk to you alone,” she murmured.

“Not here. Too many busybodies. Do you suppose you could develop a headache?”

“Of course, but then the Baileys will just take me home.”

“Not necessarily.” He gave her a grin that held a hint of the wickedness she had seen when he had so eagerly won their wager. “Just become ill as soon as I take you back, and leave the rest to me.”

“Perhaps I should become ill during the dance rather than after?”

His look of approval warmed her. “Even better.”

“Then let us begin.” She sagged in his arms.

He kept moving so as not to cause a calamity on the dance floor, then expertly slipped out of the formation. Slowly they made their way back to her parents and the Baileys. Virgil and the admiral were nowhere in sight, but Genny had joined the group of ladies by this time, along with Mrs. Fitzwarren and her daughter Mercy.

Helen noticed them first. “Cilla, are you feeling all right? The set has not yet completed.”

“She felt dizzy,” Samuel said.

“Perhaps I grew too zealous.” Cilla clung to Samuel's arm and sent them all a wan smile. Annabelle looked dismayed and Genny just watched her with narrowed eyes. “A headache has been plaguing me since before we left this evening, and I think the exertion of the dance has made it worse.”

“Oh, you poor dear!” Dolly exclaimed.

“Captain Breedlove must be an energetic dancer,” Genny remarked.

It took effort for Cilla not to respond to her sister's goading tone. “Perhaps if I find a place to sit down…”

“Now, Cilla, you know how your headaches are.” Her mother glanced at Dolly. “Ever since she was first presented at court, she would get terrible headaches. Only a darkened room and hours of sleep would get rid of them.”

“Oh, no!” Dolly said. “We should leave at once then and get Cilla home to bed.”

“Yes, we should,” Annabelle said. “I am sorry you are not feeling well, Mrs. Burke.” Disappointment echoed in her tone.

“No, I do not want you all to leave on my account. You have been looking forward to this all week. I will find a chair along the wall.”

“If you will allow me,” Samuel said. “I will be happy to escort Mrs. Burke home so you ladies do not have to disrupt your evening.”

“Oh, but I couldn't—” Dolly began.

“Please, Mrs. Bailey. It is no trouble at all, and this way Annabelle can continue to enjoy the dancing.”
He gave them all a charming smile. “I will escort Mrs. Burke home in my carriage and return forthwith.”

“If you do not mind…” Dolly glanced at the other ladies.

“That sounds like an excellent idea,” Cilla's mother said. “The sooner she gets to her bed, the better.”

“I see no issue with it, young man,” Mrs. Fitzwarren said. “Provided you return as soon as you have completed your mission so there is no gossip.”

Samuel gave a half bow, since he was still supporting Cilla. “I will not even descend from the carriage, merely escort her home safely and return promptly.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Cilla whispered.

“I will help you get her to the carriage, Captain,” Cilla's mother said. “Genny, do stay with Mrs. Fitzwarren until I return.”

“Very well, Mama.”

“Come, Captain Breedlove.” Helen led the way through the throng.

Cilla hated to deceive her mother. The genuine concern on Helen's face made her feel as guilty as a little girl stealing sweets. But there was no other way to speak to Samuel alone without generating suspicion from the Baileys. And she needed to tell him her terms for helping him stop the wedding—before she lost her nerve.

It seemed like forever before the carriage arrived—with John in the coachman's seat, she noticed—and she and Samuel were finally alone in the confines of the dark carriage.

“Nicely done,” he said when the coach lurched into
motion. “You are quite the actress, Mrs. Burke.”

“I hated to deceive my mother that way, but I wanted to speak to you face-to-face.”

“I was worried when you did not respond to any of my notes,” he said. “But you have already said you were not offended by what happened between us.”

“No.” She glanced down at her hands, grateful for the dark that hid her blush from him. “But it did inspire me to think about what you said.”

“About?”

“About me knowing nothing about passion. I'm afraid you were right. Edward was not a very good teacher.”

“Then Edward was a fool. You, my dear Priscilla, are a marvelously passionate woman who deserves the satisfaction of a skilled lover.”

“You are kind to say so.”

“Kindness has nothing to do with it. As I said, if I had not proposed our business liaison, I would be tempted to pursue you myself.”

Her breath caught. The growl beneath his tone underscored his words in a way mere persuasion never could. “And are you a skilled lover, Captain?”

He was silent for a long moment. “I thought we had established that.”

“I get the feeling that what you showed me is only the beginning.”

His harsh intake of breath sliced through the darkness of the carriage. “What are you about, woman?”

“If I help you by convincing Annabelle to jilt Lord
Raventhorpe, I could be destroying any chance I have of making my dreams of independence come true.”

“I know. I wish there were some other way.”

“Perhaps there is. With no business to sustain me, the only respectable recourse for a woman of my background is to wed again. And you know how I feel about that.”

“I have offered to compensate you for your loss.”

“And I have refused your offer. I will not trade any of my assistance for gold. Are we clear on that? I am not for sale.”

“I never said you were.”

He was angry; she could tell from the steel in his voice. “But I will help you in exchange for you helping me.”

He was silent again. Perhaps she had surprised him. Finally he said, “What are your terms?”

“First, let us discuss exactly what you need me to do.”

“Talk to Annabelle. Leave doubts in her mind so that she might reconsider marrying him. John is going to be searching for evidence of illegal activities down in Cornwall while I will remain here to keep an eye on Raventhorpe.”

Cilla said, “He cannot jilt Annabelle without causing a huge scandal. It simply is not done. He will not risk it.”

“It can't hurt.”

“No, it certainly cannot,” she agreed. “So your best chance is still to find some evidence against him while I try to convince Annabelle to call off
the marriage. It is more acceptable for the lady to jilt the gentleman, and Annabelle will escape with less scandal attached to her.”

“Thank you for being willing to do this.”

“Which puts us right back where we began. You are asking me to sacrifice my one chance to make a reputation for myself that will help me launch my business. If word gets out that I betrayed my employer's trust, no one will ever hire me. I must either go to one of the mills or marry again. Since I have no desire to acquaint myself with the mills except as a last resort, that leaves marriage.”

“Which you don't want.”

“That's true. I am not eager to put my future in the hands of yet another man who might mishandle it. However, you have shown me that there is much I do not know about men or the sexual side of marriage. I chose badly with my first husband. I do not want to make the same mistake a second time.”

“You want me to find you a husband?”

She laughed. “No. I want you to teach me about men and lovemaking so I am equipped to choose my own.”

Her proposal shocked him. There was no other word. He was willing to do whatever it took to keep Annabelle from marrying Raventhorpe, but this…?

“Let me see if I understand correctly,” he said finally. “You are asking me to teach you about men and sex so you can pick a good husband?”

“Exactly. I need to learn the difference between desire and love.”

“And how did you determine I would accomplish this?”

She hesitated only a moment, but long enough for him to realize that this wasn't as easy for her as it appeared. “By becoming my lover.”

Her quiet words shot straight to his groin. Immediately his mind flew back to that interlude at the inn—her stocking-clad legs, the sweet scent of her arousal, her innocent astonishment when she had climaxed for the very first time beneath his touch. He was hard in mere minutes, ready to start the lessons right here in the carriage.

“Samuel?” Her tentative tone brought him out of his memories.

“Forgive me, Priscilla,” he said, hearing the hoarseness in his voice as he struggled to get his body under control. “You took me by surprise.”

“I know it is bold of me to ask this of you, Samuel, but you are asking much of me as well. It will be a fair trade I think.”

He gave a rough laugh. “You are innocent indeed if you do not comprehend what such a proposal can do to a man.”

“Then you are willing?”

“Aye, I'm willing. What man wouldn't be? But are you sure this is what you want?”

“This would be a business arrangement, Samuel. I have no intention of throwing my cap after you. As long as we both remain honest with each other, we should both be able to each get what we need. It's not as if we will fall in love with one another.”

Naïve, he thought. She was very much the type to fall in love. “How long would we be lovers?”

“How long will it take you to teach me what I need to know? One day? Two?”

He laughed. “More than that, dear lady.”

“Oh. Really? Well, then let us not set a time limit on it. We shall say that our affair will end when you decide I have learned everything I need to know or if either of us should determine it is best to end the relationship.”

“An intriguing notion. I suppose I could find a cottage close by where we can meet in secret for your education.”

“That would be ideal. I have free days all day Friday and a half day on Sunday. Though I do not imagine people make love on Sundays, do they?”

He laughed out loud. “They make love whenever the mood strikes, and sometimes
wherever
the mood strikes. There has been many an assignation in a moving carriage, for instance.”

“That seems somewhat unlikely given the lack of room. Why, two people cannot even lie down.”

“Ah, dear Priscilla, how much you have to learn.”

“But you will teach me?”

“I will. On one condition.”

“What is that?”

“You must pay your wager to me first.”

“My wager?”

“From the inn. You lost, or do you not recall?”

“I recall.”

The husky tremor in her voice shot straight to his cock. “Then, Priscilla, I believe you owe me a kiss.”

“I do.”

He waited. “Aren't you going to kiss me?”

“Now? In the coach?”

“What better time? We're alone where no one can see us. And what better way to seal our bargain?”

“Very well.” He heard her suck in a breath. “You will have to tell me how to go about this.”

“First come over here to my side of the coach. Take my hand.”

Cilla reached out and caught his hand, butterflies exploding in her belly as she considered what she had just agreed to. He gave her hand a little tug, and she let out a squeak of surprise as he pulled her out of her seat and sent her stumbling toward his. She landed sprawled atop him, his knee between her legs, his face pressed against her bosom.

“You smell delicious.” He nuzzled her breasts, which were half bared due to her evening dress. His hot breath on her bare skin made her flesh prickle with excitement. “How I wish you had been wearing something like this that day at the inn.”

She swallowed. The soft cotton of her chemise rubbed against her breasts in a way that made her loins ache. “I owe you a kiss,” she reminded him.

“That you do.” He gripped her waist with both hands and edged her backward, then guided her to the seat beside him. She landed on her bottom, more or less correctly seated. “Women's fashions are a darned nuisance when it comes to lovemaking.”

“I imagine so,” was all she could think to say.

“Look at me, Priscilla.” He laid his hand along her cheek, turning her face toward his. “I am going to teach you to kiss me. When we meet again to begin your lessons, I want you to remember this.”