The Accidental Mistress (15 page)

"You are unharmed, I trust?"

"Yes, completely, not so much as a bruise."

"Good, because I would be most displeased to hear otherwise. Since you are stranded, may I offer my assistance and see you home? My carriage is parked just there." He pointed to a splendid, high-perch phaeton waiting ahead, his own tiger holding a team of precisely matched grays at the ready. Painted a glossy dark blue, the racing vehicle sported the Vessey coat of arms, emblazoned in gold on the door. Even before the accident, the marquis's equipage quite cast Lord Ottwell's into the shade. In fact, the phaeton was one of the finest Lily had ever seen, not counting the marquis's magnificent coach-and-four, of course.

Glancing toward Ottwell, she found him still engaged in negotiation with the stall owners.

"Who can tell how long he will be," Vessey remarked as though he had read her thoughts. "Even when he calms those two down, he'll still need to call for a new carriage and make arrangements to have this one taken away. You could be here for hours."

Much as she did not like on principle to abandon Lord Ottwell, Lily had to agree that Lord Vessey made several excellent points, not the least of which was the dismal prospect of spending the rest of her afternoon sitting here in this broken-down curricle. With a nod, she agreed. "Yes, thank you, I would appreciate a ride home."

"Ottwell," the marquis called, his voice carrying easily over the crowd. "Mrs. Smythe is coming with me."

Lord Ottwell paused in mid-sentence and looked over, a series of lines descending across his forehead.

Without giving her an opportunity to speak to the other man, the marquis reached up, caught her around the waist, and swung her to the ground with a confident power that made her belly flutter. Once her feet were on the ground, he tucked her hand into the curve of his elbow and led her forward. She only had time for one last glance at Lord Ottwell, who looked profoundly perturbed, before the marquis drew her to a halt in front of his phaeton and moved to help her inside.

Up, up she went, her pulse quickening as Lord Vessey caught her around the waist and lifted her off her feet. For an instant, she hung suspended inside his powerful embrace, her eyes even with his, his mouth scant inches from her own. For the faintest fraction of an instant, he paused as if he were considering drawing her nearer for a kiss. Instead, he lifted her farther upward and set her on the seat.

Steadying herself, Lily willed away a momentary sense of vertigo, telling herself the reaction was due to the lofty height of the phaeton and not from having just been held so closely inside the marquis's arms. Gazing around, she noticed that the carriage really was set high, making her feel like a bird perched on the top branch of a forest's tallest tree. A smile broke across her mouth, excitement rising as she surveyed London from an entirely new perspective.

Lord Vessey vaulted up and settled next to her on the seat, his broad shoulders nearly touching her own. Taking up the reins, he whistled softly to his horses and eased them into traffic, his every movement bespeaking competence and control.

Now this,
she thought,
is a man who knows how to handle the ribbons.

"Not quite the experience you were hoping for on your very first lesson, I imagine," he remarked once they were safely on their way.

Her shoulders drew back. "If you are inquiring as to whether I was driving when the accident occurred, I was not."

He tossed her a look. "I never imagined you were. If you will recall, I warned you Ottwell is as ham-fisted as they come." He paused, making a quick turn that would have set the other man on his heels. "Did he let you take the reins even once?"

Her lips tightened. "He said he was working up to it, looking for just the right spot."

Vessey barked out a laugh. "In Covent Garden? He would have been looking all day."

"So I was beginning to realize," she agreed with a sigh.

"Disappointed, hmm?"

"Yes, if you must know."

"Let me teach you, then. My offer is still good."

A wave of longing unfurled inside her chest, but she pushed it aside. "I cannot."

"Of course you can."

"No," she replied in an emphatic tone. "I cannot. And you already know the reason."

His lips turned up in a slow, sensual smile. "I thank you for the compliment, madam, but even I would find it difficult to make love to you in an open phaeton in full public view. Why else do you imagine Society so thoroughly approves of the sport?"

Her mouth parted at his bold statement, yet she knew he was right. Even girls with overly protective mamas were permitted to go driving with a single gentleman as long as the pair did so in an open carriage. Even so, had she not resolved only yesterday to see
less
of the marquis rather than more? And spending long hours with him, snuggled hip-to-hip inside a small carriage, was not the way to achieve her aim. Still, she couldn't deny the fact that letting Ethan Andarton teach her to drive would be nothing short of divine. Assuming she could keep her mind on the lessons, instead of the man.

Linking her gloved hands in her lap, she forced herself to resist. "While I concede there would be no room for impropriety, I do not think—"

"Don't think, dear lady," he murmured with silky persuasion, "just say yes." He shot her a quick glance. "I can see by your face that you're dying to learn how to handle the ribbons. And although I am not generally in the habit of lauding my own abilities, I am considered by most to be an excellent driver. I can assure you, I will never pitch us into a fruit stand, nor give you the opportunity to do so while you are in the process of learning."

A laughed escaped her lips. "No, I have no fears on that score."
And I don't,
she realized, feeling as safe with him as a babe in a cradle.

"Then give me the pleasure of teaching you," he urged. "It will be great fun, I promise."

I am sure it shall, which is precisely the reason I ought to refuse.

"If it will allay your concerns," he offered, "I promise to keep our lessons strictly platonic. You can think of me in the guise of a trusted cousin."

She chuckled. "A
distant
cousin, I presume, who isn't above leading his female relations astray. Now, were you to swear to act like my brother …"

"You do not have a brother," he replied with a growl.

"Exactly so."

He tossed her a look that was equal parts amusement and exasperation. "Just say yes, Lily."

How easy he made it sound. She wondered if Eve had felt this way while contemplating the apple. Still, it wasn't as though she were agreeing to join him in bed … only inside his carriage, where even now she had only to tip her head a bit in order to catch his delicious male scent, or lean slightly to one side to accidentally brush up against his long, athletic frame.

Worrying the edge of her lower lip between her teeth, she waged a silent battle, her heart warring viciously with her head.
Say no,
her conscience warned. Then he gave her a smile that turned her limbs to butter. "Yes, all right," she agreed in a rush. "How soon may we begin? Today?"

He laughed. "No, not today. It's too late in the afternoon to find any uncrowded streets, though I believe one of the parks might be the easiest location in which to begin. If you run a wheel off a lane there, the worst you'll do is crush a few flowers and tear out a bit of grass."

Up came her chin. "Who says I shall be running off the road? I suspect I will amaze you."

He grinned, tiny lines fanning out at the corners of his eyes. "I have no doubt that you will."

Pleasurable warmth washed over her skin, a sensation she knew had nothing to do with the late spring temperatures.

"What do you say to nine-thirty tomorrow morning?" he suggested. "Or is that too early?"

She shook her head. "I am an early riser, so that should prove a most excellent time."

"Ah, another intriguing morsel of information about your personal habits. I will think of you tomorrow morning as I bathe and dress, wondering if you are awake and doing the same."

She swallowed against the provocative images his words inspired. "I thought you had agreed to behave while we are having our lessons?"

"But we are not having a lesson. I said nothing of the times before and after."

Her heart thumped. "Then I see I shall have to be careful to avoid your company, except when I am being tutored."

Using barely perceptible movements on the reins, he slowed the phaeton and brought the vehicle to an easy halt. Shifting in the seat, he pressed his knee against her muslin-covered thigh. "You can certainly try, my dear Lily," he whispered. "In fact, I look forward to witnessing your attempts."

God above, what have I gotten myself into?
she wondered.

"I will be here on the morrow to collect you," he murmured. "Try not to be tardy."

Only then did she realize they had arrived at her townhouse, and that her butler was holding open the front door to receive her. A footman came forward to assist her from the carriage, but the marquis jumped down first to do the honors. Instead of reaching up a single hand, though, he set his broad palms against her waist and lifted her from the carriage, cradling her against his body an extra second before placing her safely onto the ground. His hands lingered before he finally let her go. "Until tomorrow, madam."

With an elegant bow, he tipped his beaver top hat, then sprang once again into the phaeton. Taking up the reins, he drove away.

Steadying her wobbly legs, she forced herself to turn and walk inside.

* * * * *

Ethan arrived at Lily's townhouse the following morning at precisely nine-thirty to find her downstairs and ready to depart. All business, she offered him a polite smile as she pulled on a pair of dove-gray gloves that matched her fashionable carriage dress and sturdy kid half-boots. "Good morning, my lord. Shall we be on our way?"

With an indulgent grin, he swept an accommodating arm toward the door.

A small measure of her armor slipped once they were outside, her expression a bit nonplussed. "Oh, did you not bring the phaeton?"

He shook his head and extended a hand to help her inside his curricle. "Indeed no. A high-flyer phaeton is not the sort of vehicle on which a novice driver ought to learn. This equipage will be quite daring enough."

"It does not look
daring
at all," she murmured askance, as she eyed the elegant, yet far lower-slung, black carriage.

"Let us see if you still feel the same way once you are in control of the reins. Now, up you go."

Before she had time to remark further, he'd settled her in the carriage next to him and set the horses in motion. By the time they reached St. James's Park, her spirits were fully restored, excitement radiating visibly from her as he drove them through the entrance gates. He'd chosen this particular park in hopes of encountering few vehicles and even fewer members of the Ton. She would learn little if they were constantly stopping to chat. Besides, he rather hoped to keep her to himself—all to himself.

Locating an out-of-the-way stretch of road deep inside the park, he drew the carriage to a stop. "Here we are," he declared. "Time to commence our lesson."

"Oh, wonderful!" She straightened with undisguised anticipation. "So, what do I do first?"

"First, you listen," he said. "Now, the big fellow on your right, his name is Thunder, and you'll signal most of your cues through him. Lightning, the beauty on your left, is a good girl, who will always follow his lead."

"Thunder and Lightning, hmm?" she remarked, obvious humor in her voice. "Are they as volatile as their names?"

"Not a bit. I dare swear you would have trouble finding a more loyal, obedient team than these two. No, when it comes to being volatile, they leave that up to me." With a wink, he slid closer, letting his shoulder brush ever so lightly against her own.

Tossing him a look, she shifted deliberately away. "And what of your natural propensity for misbehavior? Are they conversant with that aspect of your personality as well?"

He laughed. "I'm sure they have a fair estimation of all my humors, though I do not believe they would view my actions as misbehavior. Horses, after all, are creatures of pleasure. Would that more humans took note and followed their lead."

Clearing her throat, she continued. "Speaking of leads, you were explaining how best to communicate with the team."

"Ah, yes, and so I was," he said with a grin. "Let us proceed."

Casting him a glance from underneath her lashes, Lily wondered if she had made a mistake agreeing to his lessons. So far his instructions had as much to do with seducing her as they did with driving.
But I can manage him,
she told herself,
at least I hope I can manage him.

"Be gentle with the ribbons and learn to trust what your team tells you. Now, why don't we give things a try. Hold out your hands."

"My hands?" she repeated with skeptical caution.

"Yes. How else do you expect to learn to control the reins? Your voice and hands will always be your two best allies," he explained. "It's like making love. Whisper sweet things in their ears, keep your touch gentle and pleasurable, and you'll never go wrong."

She arched a reproving eyebrow.

He gave a slow, unrepentant grin. "Hands, please."

Despite her better judgment, she stretched out her palms.

A moment later, he slid close again and positioned himself so his hip was touching hers. Before she could object, he looped an arm around her shoulders, then reached down to cover both of her hands with his own. A helpless quiver unfurled deep within her, keenly aware of their unanticipated embrace. "My lord, what do you think you are doing?"

Apparent innocence shone from his eyes. "Merely instructing you, nothing more. How else are you to get the feel of things, if I do not show you? Now relax or you'll spook the team."

Relax!
she scoffed.
How am I supposed to relax when I am practically sitting on his lap?
But she tried nonetheless, remaining quiescent as he pressed the reins into her hands and threaded the supple leather around and between her fingers.