The Reluctant Suitor (3 page)

Yet, inexplicably (definitely to those who frowned on her flawed, ofttimes unladylike behavior), Adriana

Sutton had been much favored by the late Marquess of Randwulf, his family, and their loyal servants, many of whom had watched her grow from a painfully thin chit to an intriguingly beautiful young lady.

Now, here she was, caught in an unyielding vise that, by rights, should have made her hackles rise. At the moment, however, she was experiencing some difficulty in discerning reality from illusion. Under the circumstances, Adriana thought she had had every right to entertain the whimsical notion that a tree had taken root in the hall, for the towering form against which she had been swept left her inundated with impressions of a steely oak. The smoothly draped black skirt of her modish riding habit and its short, double-breasted Spencer jacket of forest-green velvet, fashionably set off by a creamy-hued jabot, seemed insufficient protection against the stalwart frame, for she had cause to wince within the unyielding embrace of the one who clasped her so tightly.

In a sudden, peevish attempt to push herself away and regain her dignity, she was relieved to find the man

’s arms falling away. Upon reclaiming her freedom, she sought to retreat farther still from the fellow. Alas, her effort to escape fell far short of her expectation, for in backing away, she stepped on a stick or some other long, wooden object, which promptly slid forward beneath her booted foot, throwing her completely off balance. Her arms flayed wildly about in a frantic attempt to catch herself as the man reached for her. In desperation she clutched the first thing that came within proximity to her hand, the waist of the finely tailored red coat. Even then, her feet seemed to twist beneath her. The sole of her boot slipped, making her lose what little equipoise she had gained. Her frantic gyrations to recover her aplomb ended abruptly when her right thigh slammed into the manly loins. Her victim seemed to choke from her haphazard assault, but that was hardly the end of her disgrace. Her skirts rode nigh up to her knee as her left leg slid down the outer side of a hard, muscular limb, seemingly with the same intent as a skinning tool. It was difficult to determine who winced more from her outlandish feats, the officer or herself.

Adriana only knew the inside of her leg felt as if it had been scraped raw after skimming down the man’s smoothly tailored white wool breeches. If any wrinkle had existed in his trousers, she had no doubt she would’ve been the first to discover it.

Diligently she sought to regain her modesty as well as her dignity as she strove to unmount the iron-thewed thigh, but, as much as she tried, she couldn’t ignore the fact that her softer parts felt sorely abused. Considering her discomfort, she had reason to doubt that she’d be able to grit out a smile, much less laugh at her own clumsiness. She could only wonder in agonized reflection what havoc she had reaped upon the man.

“I’m sorry . . . ,” she began, blushing hotly as she endeavored to hide her burgeoning chagrin and distress. She feared her pantaloons had cut creases where previously there had been none. “I didn’t mean—”

“Never mind,” the officer strangled out. The tendons in his cheeks fairly snapped as he struggled for control. His arm came around her waist once again, and he lifted her easily, shifting her weight off his thigh before settling her feet safely to the floor between his own shiny black boots.

Still struggling to surmount his manly discomfort, the officer closed his eyes and bent his head forward to await its ebbing, allowing Adriana to catch a vague scent of his cologne. Mingled with an underlying essence of soap and an equally indistinct trace of the fine, costly wool of his uniform, the pleasantly aromatic bouquet drifted upward into her nostrils, and twined tantalizingly through her senses. Adriana had never in her life experienced the like of such strangely provocative stirrings. Indeed, the manly fragrance seemed far more intoxicating than a glass of port on a warm evening. As difficult as it proved to be, she sought to lend her attention to what she was actually seeing rather than the warmly titillating ambience through which she had just drifted.

Another painful grimace evidenced the man’s continuing discomfort, tightening chiseled features and

compressing well-formed lips as he endured the torment in silence. Stoic-faced, gentlemanly decorum didn’t seem at all conducive to abating his pain, however, for with a softly muttered apology he reached down between them beneath the protective shroud of her skirts.

Adriana made the mistake of glancing down before it dawned on her just what he was doing, gingerly readjusting the torpid fullness defined by his narrow-fitting breeches. Just as quickly, a breathless gasp was snatched from her throat, and her eyes went chasing off. She suffered through an endless moment of excruciating embarrassment as she tried diligently to banish from mind what she had just seen and to keep her thoughts firmly fixed on logical matters, such as the reason for this officer’s presence at Randwulf Manor. Yet it was impossible to ignore the heat creeping into her cheeks. It certainly didn’t help that she felt much like a ship adrift in some strange sea halfway around the world.

Purposefully, Adriana focused her gaze within an area no higher than closely cropped, dark brown hair and no lower than broad shoulders adorned with gold epaulettes affixed to the blazing red fabric of his military blouse. It seemed the only way she could keep her thoughts well in line with what was proper for an untried maid, but she never in her life imagined the alluring quintessence of masculinity could be embodied so completely in just one man.

In the midst of a handsome arrangement of chiseled features, darkly translucent gray eyes were now thankfully devoid of pain, at least enough to communicate some evidence of humor above a waywardly charming grin. Still, white teeth, as perfect as any she had seen in many a year, seemed far too bright to allow for sober reflection. Neatly clipped sideburns accentuated crisply chiseled bones beneath sun-bronzed cheeks. Poorly suppressed amusement momentarily compressed manly grooves that formed deep channels on either side of his mouth. Any woman would’ve stared in admiration at the intriguing results that perhaps had evolved through the years from simple dimples. Yet those indentations troubled Adriana, for they seemed to pluck at fibers long entrenched in her memory, as if strumming some tantalizingly evasive tune she had heard ages ago but now had difficulty bringing clearly to mind. If some faint recollection of those devilish creases actually did exist, then surely it was no recent memory and in all probability had been relegated to the dark, fathomless depths of her brain, where she could imagine such thoughts and remembrances of forgotten years were now moldering from disuse.

“Considering the discomfort we have shared in this past moment,” the officer murmured in a warmly hushed tone meant for her ears alone, “I think I should at least know the name of such a captivating companion before another calamity befalls us . . . Miss . . . ?”

The warmly mellow tones of her captor’s voice were imbued with a rich quality that seemed to vibrate through her womanly being. To Adriana’s amazement, the sound evoked a strangely pleasurable disturbance in areas far too private for an untried virgin even to consider, much less invite. As evocative as the sensations were, she didn’t know quite what to make of them. They seemed almost . . . wanton.

But then, the image that had recently been scored into her brain had undoubtedly heightened her sensitivity to wayward imaginings. If not for the man’s sterling good looks, she’d still be struggling to drag her musings away from his loins.

“S-Sutton,” she stammered, and could have groaned in chagrin at the clumsiness of her tongue. Her present failure to articulate clearly could in no wise have been due to any painful bashfulness suffered in the presence of men, for hardly a month passed without some new request for her hand being addressed to her or her father. If anything, those pleas had become rather hackneyed, solidifying her disinterest while she awaited some news of the one to whom she had been promised.

Prior to this day in history, she had considered the darkly handsome Riordan Kendrick, Marquess of Harcourt, without equal among those who had petitioned her father. Riordan had definitely seemed the most charming, and although his persistence hadn’t equaled Roger’s, she definitely counted that a point in

his favor. Indeed, his manners were suave and polished. Yet, she couldn’t recall a time wherein she had been so completely awed by Riordan’s shining black eyes as she was now by the thickly lashed, luminous gray depths presently sparkling with amusement above her own. She hadn’t seen eyes like that since . . .

“Sutton?” A well-defined eyebrow jutted sharply upward in what could only have been astonishment. A sort of incredulous awe seemed to spread over the officer’s features as he looked her up and down. Still, he seemed hampered by lingering doubt as he thoughtfully canted his head and peered at her more closely. As much as he searched her face, it was as if he just couldn’t believe what he had heard or, for that matter, was actually seeing. “Not . . . Lady . . . Adriana Sutton?” At her cautious nod, his grin deepened by nearly the same astonishing degree his arm tightened, crushing her soft bosom against the unyielding hardness of his broad chest. “My goodness, Adriana, you’ve become thoroughly enchanting in your maturity. Never in a thousand years would I have dreamt that one day you’d be so utterly ravishing.

”

At this questionable familiarity and praise, Adriana suffered through another scorching blush. Whoever this stranger was, he had somehow gained knowledge of her name. But that hardly put to flight
her own
confusion
or
her discomfort. Considering the intensity of his embrace, she feared her ribs would crack beneath the strain. She suffered little doubt that her breasts would be tender for days to come merely from his painfully constricting clinch. She just wondered how the fellow would react if she adjusted
them
beneath his very nose.

Perhaps the officer had passed too long a time in the company of fighting men and had forgotten that a gentleman didn’t clasp a lady as tenaciously as he seemed wont to do, but Adriana had every intention of instructing him in the error of his ways. Though she had earlier shunned the idea of chiding the apprentice in front of witnesses, this man didn’t seem the least bit hindered by a retiring nature, certainly not after he had made use of her blanketing skirts. On the contrary, she wondered if she had ever met a bolder man.

“Please, sir! Kindly release me and allow me to breathe! I can promise you that you’re not confronting the enemy here in this place!”

A soft, amused chuckle issued forth from the officer, but it wasn’t until her toes actually touched the floor that Adriana realized he had swept her, with uncommon ease, off her feet. It wasn’t his physical prowess that astounded her as much as the fact that he was so tall. The top of her head barely reached his shoulder. Her own father and Riordan Kendrick were tall men, yet there had only been one other she had known who could have equaled this officer’s height, and that had been the late Sedgwick Wyndham.

“Dearest Adriana, please forgive me,” the man murmured, making no attempt to curtail his grin. Casually he glanced aside and accepted with a murmur of thanks the fine, black, silver-handled walking stick the elderly steward handed back to him. Then his eyes gleamed once again into hers. “I certainly didn’t mean to distress you by my failure to heed gentlemanly manners, but I’m afraid I forgot myself in my eagerness to renew our acquaintance. When I saw you talking with Harrison, I was hoping for an introduction, but I never imagined for an instant that I already knew you.”

Dearest Adriana! Renew our acquaintance! Already knew you!
Was the man making overtures?

Of a sudden, Adriana found the officer’s brazenness too much to bear. Cheeks aflame, she spun away, snapping her skirts about with enough force to whip them across the tops of his highly polished black boots as well as his costly walking cane, the end of which he had braced on the floor. She could only believe
that
instrument had created their difficulty in the first place. It would probably prove just as valuable as a chastening rod should she decide to take offense at the man’s audacity and lay it over his fine head.

Only when she had halted the length of one archway away did Adriana dare face the officer again. She did so quite saucily, flipping her skirt about once more before freeing it and lifting her chin in an attitude of haughty displeasure.

The officer’s lips widened leisurely into a rakish grin as his gaze ranged over her. Though she had been leered at any number of times while strolling along the streets of Bath with her paternal aunt or with her sister in London, this was an entirely different matter. Those warmly glowing gray orbs gave her cause to wonder if his expression would have changed even remotely had she been standing before him entirely naked. Indeed, she could almost swear from the way he was looking at her that he had designs upon her person and was already portioning off the areas where he would begin his manly seducement.

The gall of him!
she thought in rising ire and readied her tongue to flay the hide off this one who had proven himself no gentleman.

“Sir, I must protest!”

A second or two passed before it dawned on Adriana that the words had not issued forth from her lips, but from Roger Elston’s, of all people. Taken aback, she glanced around to find him stalking toward them with lean features contorted by rage. The way his hands were clenched into white-knuckled fists, he seemed ready to confront the man, with fisticuffs if need be.