The Bridal Contract (Darrington family Book 3) (11 page)

When she pulled away, a tear splashed onto her cheek. Pink color infused her face. “Lord Everly.” She accepted the handkerchief he handed her but dropped her gaze. “Helen informed me last night when I came in. He called on her while I was in London with you. She told him straightaway she wouldn’t marry him thanks to your promise to pay Charles’ debt.”

“I thought you’d agreed not to tell Everly about our plan until the end of our contract term?” How was it possible for a woman to be more beautiful while wiping her nose and eyes?

“I did. It was Helen who blurted out the secret.” Eloisa took to pacing again. “It’s my guess she was desperate to encourage Lord Everly’s exit.” She faced him. “Please don’t be cross at her. She’s still young yet.”

“I’m not; however, we will need to do a bit of public simpering in order to retain reputations.” Everly might be a pompous ass and a general menace, but outright thwarting the man could be a sticky prospect. His influence in Society had a long reach, and Lord knew if he attempted to damage the Darrington name, Oliver would bear the brunt of his mother’s wrath. “I’ll need to think on the problem.” He wasn’t a gifted schemer with a gilded tongue like Felix and he wasn’t as deviously clever as Charlotte. How he’d extricate them from the potential mess remained a mystery.

“Pish posh, Oliver. Why do we need to pander to him?” A frown marred the beauty of Eloisa’s perfect face. “He’s an arse and you know it. If we’re rid of him, who cares what he says?”

So said the woman with no title and no responsibilities according to his mother.

Oliver sighed. “Come. Let’s talk.” He gestured toward a settee, noting there was a stuffed bear resting beneath it. Everywhere he looked, Daniela left little touches of herself. An amused smile lifted his lips. How strange life was and how refreshing it could be. When Eloisa seated herself, he occupied the spot next to her. “Whether the man is a blight to Society or not, he is a Peer and we still must play nice. This is the way of things, and it would be in our best interests not to cause a scandal right now.”

“Why? What difference could it possibly make? Soon we’ll all be free of him and won’t need to worry.”

Oh, how adorably naïve she was about such things. He took possession of one of her hands and threaded his fingers with hers. Then he frowned. Why had he done that? She wasn’t really his bride-to-be. There wasn’t any reason to link their hands other than to offer her comfort, but even then, he wouldn’t have held her thusly.

Devil take it
. What was the world coming to when a man had to second guess everything?

Still, he didn’t release her. “It does affect us both. If Lord Everly makes a scene and that gets back to my mother, she may try to influence Felix with the family’s purse strings. If Felix decides to distance our family from yours, I won’t be able to fulfill my end of the bargain, which means—”

“Drat.” A crestfallen look entered her face. “You won’t pay off my brother’s debt and Lord Everly will still win Helen.” She glanced up at him and her chin trembled. “I hadn’t thought of all the ramifications.” Her hand shook in his. “Why must dealing with Society notables be so, so…” She narrowed her eyes and he could almost see her mind racing over various words. “…so infuriating.”

“That’s how it always has been, my dear.” He tamped the urge to laugh at her frustrations. He’d learned the lesson all too well growing up the second son of an earl. “I’m afraid it will always be so. At least you’ve been spared the bulk of the negotiations.”

“Bother.” Eloisa sighed. She fell into soft cursing in Italian. “What shall we do?”

“Invite him to dinner?” It was cheeky to ask, but he couldn’t help baiting her.

She yanked her hand from his. “Are you mad?”

Sometimes, he did wonder. “Hmm. Send a bottle of the finest scotch or brandy you can find to his club. Any man would appreciate that offering. Be sure to include a note of flattery.” When she scoffed, he rolled his eyes. “You don’t need to go so far as to apologize for your sister’s outburst, but a nice note of your choosing wouldn’t be remiss.”

“I don’t think I can.” She became studiously interested in the stripes on her mint green dress.

Was she always this stubborn, or did this incident bring out that trait? “Why not?” He put a finger beneath her chin and raised her head. Dear God, those eyes. He could get lost in those mossy pools and not mind.

The muscles in her neck worked with a hard swallow. “It would be a lie. I don’t wish him well. I’m not sorry Helen said what she did. I can’t wait until he leaves us alone.”

“I know.” He dropped his attention to her lips. It would be so easy to take that kiss he’d thought about earlier. Would she mind? “Don’t worry about it. I’ll send the note and the gift and sign my name to it. You and your sister will not be mentioned,” he whispered as he drew closer. “I’ll draw his ire.”

“Thank you, but why would you put yourself out that way?” she asked, edging toward him then stopped when a mere breath separated them.

“I’m a gentleman. When my contract partner is in need, who am I to deny her help?” He slid a hand along her cheek then cupped the back of her head. When Eloisa’s lips parted, he stifled a groan. “Although, in some circumstances, I’m also a bit of a rogue without explanation of why I do the things I do.” It took little movement on his part to meet her mouth with his, and even less on hers as she met him at the same time.

She uttered a small sound of acceptance or encouragement at the back of her throat and he was lost. Scooting as close as he dared, he settled Eloisa more comfortably in his embrace and moved his lips over hers. Soft, pillowy and just as plush as they looked, they welcomed him, cradled his lips as if meant exclusively for his use.

Blood rushed through his veins to pool in his groin, tightening it. His knees knocked into hers, and with a snort of impatience, he shifted, jamming one between hers and slightly parting her legs. She sucked in a breath, but that only served as an invitation to the deeper recesses of her luscious mouth as opened to him. He took advantage, God help him he did, and searched out her tongue. With that first silky pass along hers and the rapier thrust and parry of heated satin against satin, Oliver lost all noble thought.

He slid his hands down her back. Would that they were standing so he could feel her derriere and crush her against his length or even better, if he were to lay her out on the settee. “Eloisa, I’d like to—”

“Papa.” A tug on his tail coat brought him crashing back to reality. “Papa,” said the little voice again. “May we go on a walk now?”

“What?” He sprang away from the woman beside him as if she were an Egyptian asp. “What?” With a monumental effort, he focused on Daniela’s face as she stared at him with wide eyes. “Right. A walk. Right.” He shoved a hand through his hair then shot a wry glance at Eloisa, who sat, flushed and a tad disheveled, but with sparkling eyes and a smile. “I promised the child I’d walk the shore with her.” If he didn’t do something, he’d send the girl on her way and resume his attempt to devour his mock-fiancée right there in the parlor.

“I shall go with you, for I do so love the ocean.” She stood and shook out her skirts as if nothing earth-shattering had occurred between them. “Let me just run back home and grab a shawl. Those breezes can be quite chilly.” The minx then leaned down close, put her lips to his ear and whispered, “Unless you’d like to wait until the cover of darkness. I’ve become quite fond of sea bathing in the nude when there’s no one about.”

As she quit the room with Daniela trotting at her heels, Oliver uttered a noise that sounded something like “gawk.” What the hell had she just said? Sea bathing nude? He worked his jaw as his brain struggled to match that daring act with the docile, uninteresting woman he thought he’d known. Was it possible she held a few secrets and one of them was an adventurous soul? He swallowed again and shoved his other hand through his hair, upsetting the style he’d spent so much time perfecting earlier. Well, the reprieve would be all to the good, since if he had stood in her company, he would have given away just how much he held her in regard. Even still, he shifted to accommodate his burgeoning length.

A groan escaped him. What the devil was he supposed to do now?

Chapter Nine

Eloisa’s attempt to deny or explain away her reaction to Oliver’s kiss was more of a farce than their engagement, but it was his willingness to help her smooth things over with Lord Everly that made shafts of clean, white light strike through her heart. Yes, no doubt concern for his family name largely motivated his actions, yet there was a tiny part of her that hoped he’d wanted to defend her from the fat lord. He hadn’t needed to fight her battles. The fact he had made her grateful and wary by turns. And, for once, she had no qualms with allowing him to do so. It was nice to be able to depend on a man and not have to be strong all the time.

Exceedingly nice.

None of that mattered as she met him and Daniela in front of his town house. In silence they headed toward the shore. Still early yet, for she’d invaded Oliver’s territory a little after six that morning, no one else was about on the beach. A few gulls and terns gadded along the sand. They left tracks from where they’d been. Then the relentless waves erased the tracks as if they’d never happened. Long, golden rays of light reached across the landscape as the sun began its ascent.

Every time she tried to introduce a conversational topic, confusion gripped her mind. Just walking beside him made her stomach flutter and her heart palpitate. What was this foolishness? She meant nothing to the viscount nor he to her. That was the arrangement. Thirty days bound to a fake engagement then he’d pay off her brother’s debt and she’d keep his mother’s matchmaking at bay. No more, no less. With extra effort than she liked, she summoned Peter’s image to her mind. If possible, it had faded another level. Yes, she remembered him in a tucked away part of her heart and would probably always do so, but now, he wasn’t as strong in her mind’s eye. Why? Did Oliver’s arrival in her life bully the need for Peter away?

She glanced at him in profile. His sun-kissed brown hair stuck up in hopeless spikes due to the wind. The ever-present stubble shadowing his jaws and cheeks sent tingles of delight down her spine. Oh, what would those whiskers feel like against her bare skin, her belly, her breasts? Eloisa shivered and the gesture had nothing to do with the sea breeze. Dear heavens, what sort of woman was she to think such things about a relative stranger? Again, she relied on Peter’s memory.

I’m still in love with Peter. I don’t need, overtures from Oliver.

Except she’d blatantly whispered one of her few secrets into his ear before they’d left. Yes, she did adore sea bathing when the shore was emptied, and it was something Peter had always frowned upon as not being proper. The expected warmth that had always accompanied a fond remembrance of her dead beau never came.

But I made a promise to him.
The image in her mind seemed to frown as it blew away. Obviously, it didn’t think her willpower where the viscount was concerned would hold. Two more steps and her thoughts returned to the man beside her. Why, exactly, had he kissed her that morning? Surely he hadn’t been moved to do so out of pity for her situation. Such a thing was unfathomable, for the problem hadn’t been that severe after all. Given enough time and a cup of tea to calm her nerves, she could have worked out the puzzle for herself.

Then why? Had his mother’s disregard for her as a person and a potential match shaken her confidence so much?
Botheration. Buck up, girl. One opinion of you has no power to defeat you.

“If you have a specific question you’d like to ask me, I’d advise you to do so. Nothing is gained by staring and pondering, and I must say, I don’t care for it by half,” Oliver warned in a low voice. He kept his gaze focused on Daniela, who danced about, skipping and singing, ahead of them. Her doll swung in her hand.

Heat jumped into Eloisa’s cheeks. Perhaps it would be best if she asked him point blank. Her stomach churned. What if he’d merely been amusing himself? Oh, but that look of pure wickedness in his eyes the moment before their lips met couldn’t signify that.

He cleared his throat. “Miss Hawthorne?”

She heaved a sigh, gathered up every last bit of courage then asked, “Why did you kiss me?”

“I wanted to.” When he glanced at her, nothing except honesty shone in his expression, but those blue eyes, those brilliant orbs of fathomless mystery darkened with wile and sin. “I enjoyed it and will probably try for another one if a situation arises. I hope you don’t mind. You didn’t seem to have any objections this morning, and we should act the loving couple.”

The heat spread throughout her body.
Oh my, oh my, oh my!
“I, er…” She’d been little less than a wanton while returning his kiss. The memory of his tongue against hers, the slight pressure of his fingers as he’d dug them into her back, and the press of his knee between hers all sent need into her core. “No, I don’t mind.”
Dear heavens, do I have peas for brains?

“Good.” He resumed his eagle-eyed watch on his young charge.

Well, that provided no insight nor did it relieve the knot of confusion currently occupying her brain. She worried the inside of her lip. It was horrible of her to encourage Oliver when she knew in her heart of hearts nothing would come of it. She wouldn’t let it—she couldn’t. When all was said and done, she wouldn’t break her promise to Peter. He’d been her first and only love, the first and only man to introduce her to carnal knowledge. Surely one didn’t throw over that sort of romance simply for whatever it was between her and Oliver.

Blast, if I only knew what it was!

“Hold my hand,” Daniela demanded of her as she shoved herself between Eloisa and Oliver.

Gently, Eloisa grasped the tiny fingers that were, for whatever reason, wet though she hadn’t seen the girl get near the water. “Where are we going, pet?” She smiled to know Oliver would keep her. He’d truly fallen in love with the child the night she’d called him papa.
How wonderful such unconditional love must be!
An ache squeezed her heart while longing awakened deep inside her. Would she ever know the wonder and joy of holding her own child, of loving it? Of course not. Staying true to Peter’s promise would see to that.

“Now, Papa, you.”

“Ah, but if I hold your other hand, whatever will happen to your doll?” Humor clung to his voice, which was much different than what had been there when he’d addressed her.

Daniela paused with her bottom lip protruding in a near pout, then her expression cleared. “You hold my baby.” She handed him the doll, which he took from her with all the aplomb of a man regularly used to carting around children’s toys. No stodgy image to project for the viscount. “Hold my hand.”

The little girl was getting to be quite the tyrant, but Oliver followed instructions without complaint. Eloisa’s insides melted. What sort of Englishman, and a titled one at that, would willingly make time for a child, and especially one who had no trace of his blood in her?

“You know, if you continue to spoil her, she’ll be a handful soon. Brattish, really,” Eloisa warned. She rather enjoyed walking along with a child between them as if they were a real family. Her throat constricted. But neither of them was hers.

“Ah, but my dear Miss Hawthorne, why shouldn’t I spoil my poppet for just a little while when her life recently has been less than ideal?” He shot her a sideways glance brimming with mischief. “She’s only small once. Childhood should be a magical time, and I can provide that for her.”

Eloisa dropped her jaw. What sort of man was Oliver and did he mean what he said? She looked at him, but he was gazing out to sea. Even in profile, the desire for that ever-changing mistress lined his expression. She snapped her mouth shut then swallowed anything else she might have said. Just as Daniela would grow, all too soon the viscount would return to his ship and sail well away from England. When that happened, would he take the child with him along with her heart? Would he care that he did?

And where would that leave her? Somehow, a contract fulfilled and coin exchanging hands didn’t leave her as satisfied as she’d once thought, her sister being free notwithstanding.

Daniela broke away from them and Eloisa missed the warmth of holding her hand. She didn’t go far though, skipping and chattering to herself. The breeze raked through her black curls and ruffled the bow at the back of her head. No doubt she’d charm her way through the world just like her father.

“No running off, dearest,” Oliver warned. He chased after her then scooped her up in his arms. “Want to twirl?” Without seeming care for his boots or his trousers, he waded into the surf. The foamy water swirled about his calves and he spun around in circles with Daniela held away from his body so she really could soar above the sea.

Squeals of delight came from the girl. A huge smile split her expression. “More, more, more, Papa!”

As she giggled and laughed, Oliver laughed along with her. Eloisa stood transfixed. He looked as light-hearted and carefree as his daughter, and in so doing, seemed infinitely wise and youthful at the same time. The hearty laugh, the infectious smile, the willingness to make a special bond with the girl tugged at her heart. He’d be a wonderful father and no doubt a great husband as well. Except, he wasn’t looking for a wife. And even if he was and he wanted that with her, how could she go to him already used and soiled as she was?

She’d never regretted her rash decision to lay with Peter until right now.

Eventually, Oliver set Daniela on her feet and the girl promptly tumbled to the sand with another giggle. When she’d regained her equilibrium, she took her doll in hand and spun them both around in mimic of what she’d just experienced, even went so far as to stick a tiny, booted foot in the water before peeking at her father. At the slight shake of his head, she scampered back a few feet. He glanced at Eloisa. Mischief and something much darker and more exciting burned in his gaze. “What do you think, Daniela? Shall I pick Eloisa up? Shall I twirl her too?”

“Yes!” The child’s dark curls bounced with her empathic nod.

“Oh, no.” Eloisa shook her head then retreated. “I have no wish to let you cavort around with me in such a fashion.”

“Ah, but that only means you’ve never cavorted before and have no idea what you’re missing out on,” Oliver replied as he prowled ever closer.

Her stomach clenched with alarm. “Honestly, don’t even think about it.” His playful side set her at sixes and sevens. When he didn’t slow his steps, she pivoted then ran down the beach. Merciful heavens, the man had gone daft.

“There’s nowhere to run, Eloisa.” Oliver’s reply seemed just at her ear, and when she risked a glance behind her, her heart gave a leap for he truly was. Seconds later, he’d grabbed her about the waist and stayed her flight. “You’ve been caught by a rogue, my dear. Nothing for it now except to let him have his wicked way with you.”

“No, Oliver Darrington, don’t you
dare
pick me up!” The demand came out rather half-heartedly since he’d already done exactly that. Butterflies tickled her stomach as she threw her arms around his wide shoulders merely to maintain balance. “Oh.” His arms beneath her knees and around her back were as strong as iron. What would his body feel like pressing hers into a mattress?

He twirled her around. “Hmm, whatever shall I do with this delectable bundle in my arms?” His eyes twinkled with deviltry. “Shall I take you out and drop you in the sea?”

“No!” She grabbed onto him, suddenly terrified he’d follow through on the threat.

“What’s the matter, love? Can you not swim?” He held her closer. “Or are you in reality a mermaid who will transform the instant you touch water?”