The Lady Plays Her Ace (The Langley Sisters) (4 page)

"Any person, man or woman, would have been unsettled at the circumstances you have just endured, Lady Althea," Ace said soothingly."

"That's as may be, but I am not speaking of the brawl and subsequent tumble I took. That was unexpected and at the time distressing. However, I wish to address the matter of the official boxing match that I came to see."

He loved the way she spoke, in a series of sentences carefully structured and thought out, then they were all delivered in an impatient tone which told the listener that they needed to pay attention as what she was saying was of vital importance.

"The problem arose as I saw that man’s head snap backwards, and the immediate flow of blood." She inhaled deeply at the memory before continuing. "I felt unsteady suddenly, which is a very fluffy headed thing to do, but I fear that I do not like blood overly, you see, and seeing so much of it was disturbing."

"You don’t like blood and yet you came to a boxing match." Ace shook his head. "What did you suppose would happen when the fist of one man contacted with the other’s nose?"

"You are making me sound quite brainless, Sir, and I’m afraid you have struck on one of my failings."

"Just the one?" Ace couldn’t resist teasing.

"I fear this is one of my biggest." Her gray eyes were now rueful. "You see, Mr. Dillinger, I cannot be dissuaded when I set myself upon a course. It is most irritating for all concerned, not least of all myself."

"And yet you spent the night thinking things through, pros and cons, and not once did you factor in the prospect of blood?"

"Oh, dear. Put like that it does make me sound fluffy headed," she said, the frown line deepening. "However, my brother's news did disturb me enough that perhaps I was not thinking with my usual rationality."

Ace resisted the urge again to ask what this news was.

"Not so fluffy headed, my lady," he said, leaning towards her. Her skin was soft, with the faintest hint of color in her cheeks. He wanted to touch it, memorize the texture. "I have seen grown men faint at the sight of blood, so I would not be too hard on yourself."

"Is that true, Mr. Dillinger, or are you trying to make me feel better?"

Not many people questioned his word, but she’d always done so, right from their first meeting. They were so close now, close enough that he could feel her breath on his face. Ace knew he should pull away, knew it with every fiber of his being, and yet he could not.

"You don’t know me very well, Lady Althea, but if you did, you would know I rarely speak anything but the truth."

"Oh, but I don’t know you well, Mr. Dillinger," she said as he moved closer still. Something about her drew him to her, like a moth to flame.

She tugged her hands free from his, and Ace thought she would move away from him, as she should. After all, she was at risk just sitting alone in his carriage with no one else to accompany them. Instead, she pulled off one her gloves and lifted it to touch his face.

"Lady Althea—"

"I have always wanted to touch your face, Mr. Dillinger, from our very first meeting, and as I have just explained that I am rarely dissuaded from a course I have set myself upon, surely you realize I must do this."

Her fingers were soft, the lightest touch as she brushed them over his cheeks. "You are made up of so many angles, Sir. Such fierce beauty I see in you."

"No." He denied her words, his voice harsh now, the feel of her hands exquisite on his skin. "The beauty is all yours, my lady."

She touched his lips then, tracing her finger over the upper curve then the lower, and Ace felt her touch through his entire body. He was aroused in seconds, his body tight with need. Closing his eyes, he tried to shut her out, tried to find the control to draw away.

"You have to stop this, my lady."

"I know," she whispered, and then she replaced her fingers with her mouth and he was lost.

Her touch was soft and tentative, her lips brushing his slowly and it was more powerful than any kiss he had ever received. Ace clenched his hands on his knees to stop himself reaching for her. He ached to hold her body and pull it close to his.

"Your lips are soft, unlike the rest of you." She whispered the words against his lips. "I like the feel of them against my own."

"My lady, please pull away," Ace opened his eyes to look at her, "as I cannot."

"Why can you not?" She touched his face again, one finger tracing the hard line of his cheekbone.

He only had so much control, and that touch pushed him to his limits. He didn’t tell her why; instead, Ace cupped her face and closed the distance once again. This time, he took control, kissing her deeply. She did not fight him, instead pressing her body into his. It was wrong but Ace could not stop. He wanted this woman, and now she was here he would kiss her, just this one time, and take the memory with him of what he could never have again.

She was sweet, the taste of her lips making his head spin. Her skin beneath his fingers was like silk to the touch, and he wanted to open her cloak and slip his hands inside. The thought of lowering her bodice, burying his mouth between her breasts and tasting her warm skin made him release her. This was wrong; she would never be his and he was taking advantage of her innocence.

"Forgive me, Lady Althea, what I just did was unpardonable." His words were a low rumble as he struggled to control the raging fire in his body. He turned away from her to look out the window at the darkening skies. He had no wish to look at the lure of her lips as he fought to regain control.

"And will you forgive me also, Mr. Dillinger, as it was I who instigated the kiss?"

"No blame lies at your feet, my lady; it is I who should have known better. You are a woman of noble birth, an innocent—"

"And therefore completely without either intelligence or control?"

Ace turned reluctantly to face her once again. The passion he had glimpsed in her gray eyes had been replaced by anger once more.

How long is this bloody carriage ride? Surely they were close to her lodgings?

"I did not say that, Lady Althea. I merely stated that I am the experienced one in this carriage, and as you have been sheltered and protected you entire life, you could be—"

"So because you were born into a house the size of my bedroom with eight siblings," she interrupted him, eyes flashing. "And you have no doubt lived a life I could not even imagine, and k-kissed many women, plus…" She lifted a hand to stop him speaking as he opened his mouth. "You are a man and therefore you should take all responsibility for the fact that it was I who kissed you!"

"Yes…no." Ace always knew what to say, but not now. Not with this woman who was tying his tongue into knots.

"Do you have such a high opinion of all women of noble birth, Mr. Dillinger? Do you believe we are all frivolous and fluffy headed, and in need of protection? P-perhaps I have kissed many men before you. What do you say to that?"

The flash of anger he felt at her words was only brief, but very real and that scared him. She hadn’t, of course. He knew that deep inside. Her kiss had been too innocent. The slight stutter told him she had not dallied with other men, but the picture her words created had not been a pleasant one. This woman was out of his reach in so many ways, and he did not want to feel anything for her, especially not jealousy.

"Perhaps I am experienced, perhaps I have—"

"Enough." Ace said, cutting her off. "Do you ever keep the words inside your head?" he demanded.

"No," she said. "I say what I believe needs saying—"

"You have made your point, my lady." Ace lifted one hand to cut her off again. "However, in the matter of your innocence I do not agree with you, and do you know why?"

She gave an angry shake of her head and then glared at him, defying Ace to say anything that may enrage her further. Gone was the soft woman who had kissed him so sweetly.

"Putting aside the fact of your birth and circumstance, it is my belief that neither of your brothers would ever allow you to kiss anyone, nor for that matter become promiscuous. They watch you, my lady, closely, and it would seem with good reason." As soon as the words left his mouth, Ace knew they were the wrong ones, but he could not unsay them.

"Say nothing further, Mr. Dillinger. I am now very clear on your opinion of my character."

Before Ace could refute her words or defend himself, the carriage stopped and she flung the door open and leapt from it. Ace followed, but did not catch her as she disappeared inside and ran up the stairs. As he was staying here too, he decided that now was the perfect time for a large, strong drink. Before he had taken two steps towards that drink, however, Ted stopped him.

"I would like to thank you, Mr. Dillinger, for taking care of Lady Althea when I could not."

"Tis nothing." Ace waved the words away. "And call me Ace," he added.

"I could not do that, Sir."

"I bet she keeps you on your toes?" Ace nodded to where Lady Althea had fled.

Ted's smile was genuine. "Always, and her brothers would have her no other way."

He then bowed.

"You have no need to bow to me, Ted."

Sighing loudly when the servant simply offered him a smile and walked away, Ace made his way towards the taproom. He pushed open the door and was hit with the familiar comforting smells. The fire roared in the hearth and heat settled around him as he headed towards it and a table. Taking off his coat, he sat and stretched out his legs, enjoying the warmth.

He ordered ale and food from the barmaid, who displayed an ample bosom in a low cut bodice but no front teeth, and then settled back to think about Lady Althea Ryder.

The woman just did not fit into the mold of the noblewoman he had come to know. She was opinionated, demanding and did things like punch a bag. She didn't simper or flirt with him as many did. Women who believed he would offer them what their titled husbands could not in bed had propositioned him often. One lady had told him she liked it rough, and was sure Ace would oblige. But after his experience with Lady Thompson, he'd stayed well away from women like that…until now. Lady Althea was dangerous to Ace because he wanted her, and if he'd learned one thing today in his carriage, it was that he couldn't resist her, especially now that he'd kissed her. Closing his eyes at the memory of her in his arms, he blew out a steadying breath.

He had managed half of his ale and meal before he saw the duke. There was a presence about him that made a person look. Many in the room grew silent briefly as he walked, watching his progress before they resumed their conversations. His clothing was the finest quality and he moved with confidence—head up, back straight, never in doubt of who he was.

He was headed towards Ace, and there appeared no anger in his face, nor hurry in steps. Therefore, he did not believe the Duke of Stratton was about have words with him about his sister, and the situation she had recently plunged herself recklessly into.

"May I share this table, Sir, as there are no others available?"

"There are private parlors, Your Grace," Ace said, hoping he would go and sit in one of them. This was no place for a duke, with its sticky tables and loud, belching patrons.

"I have no wish for my own company, Sir. Do you have a problem with me sitting with you?" The words were polite and spoken in that cultured voice that Oliver would never be able to learn, even if he had all the tutors in England teaching him.

"The seat is yours, Your Grace, should you wish it," Ace said.

The man pulled out the chair across from him and sat, placing his hat and gloves beside him on the table. There was something of his sister in the duke, even though his hair was graying and his eyes brown. He saw her in the line of the nose and shape of the jaw.

"Although we have yet to meet, I am sure I am in the company of Mr. Oliver Dillinger?" The Duke held out his hand and Ace shook it. It was firm and strong, and he pumped it twice before releasing it.

"I am Oliver Dillinger," Ace confirmed.

"My brother and Luke speak highly of you, Sir, as does Finn."

Ace had been raised in poverty and lived most of his life with men that didn't know where their next meal came from. They had done whatever they could scratch out an existence. He knew how to curse more colorfully than most, and could kill a man with his hands. Therefore, he had never been entirely comfortable around noblemen, believing his rough edges were only a wrong word away, nor did he trust them. There were a few exceptions to that, and the men the duke had mentioned were a few of those, in his opinion. However, Ace had learned quickly when he had stepped into the periphery of their world that most noblemen did not accept those they believed beneath them.

"Thank you, Your Grace. They are good men," Ace said, nodding.

When he had started making money, his father had urged Ace to get a tutor, someone to school him in the correct manners and speech he would need to converse with men like the one seated across from him. He had taken that advice, simply because it had allowed him to go further in business and occasionally enter their social gatherings. However, he was still a coal miner's son and nothing could disguise his roots and sitting with a man like the one across from him, who was one of the highest-ranking noblemen below royalty, with ancestors who lined his gallery in large, gilt-edged frames, made him itch.