The Scandal in Kissing an Heir (9 page)

“Perhaps you’re right.” She took a sip of her tea and leaned back in her seat. When she met his gaze again, there was great intensity to be found in her eyes. “You are not exactly a gentleman, Mr. Neville, for you are considered a rake, and yet you have behaved very gentlemanly toward me, for which I am grateful. When thinking logically about the matter, I must deduce that you are a man of great experience, and as such, you must have taken precautions to ensure that you would not risk your health while entertaining your paramours. Am I correct?”

Daniel nodded numbly. This visit was by far the most unusual one he’d ever enjoyed. The topic, not to mention the implication of everything she was saying, was completely outrageous, and yet he liked her better for it. There was something to be said for being honest and direct, for speaking one’s mind, something that most people were too cowardly to do. Not Lady Rebecca though. She had more courage than any other woman he’d known, and it was intoxicating.

“Well then,” she said. “If I do decide to take you up on your offer of elopement, I’ll have nothing to worry about.”

Daniel couldn’t help himself. Reaching out, he cupped her chin with his hand and ran his fingers gently back and forth against the smooth skin there, marveling at the way her breath hitched in response and the rosy hue that appeared upon her cheeks. “On the contrary,” he murmured, “you have every reason to look forward to it with great anticipation, for I promise you that it will be marvelous.”

Her blush deepened, and he removed his hand and rose.

She followed him to the window and watched as he climbed back out. Pausing on the ladder, he met her gaze. “I have enjoyed your company immensely this evening, my lady.” And he meant every word of it. “I shall return again tomorrow at the same hour.”

Rebecca waited until he was on the ground, hoping that he might look back at her one last time, but he didn’t—he just turned his back and walked away, fading into the darkness until there was no trace of him left.

“You like him a great deal, my lady. I can see it in your eyes.”

Startled from her reverie, Rebecca spun around to find Laura standing close. Denying it would be pointless, since Laura had already guessed the truth, so Rebecca nodded and said, “I must admit that I do—so much it frightens me.”

“Is that why you tried to shock him?” Laura asked, her round cheeks dimpling as she spoke.

“You heard that, did you?” Rebecca took a deep breath and walked across to her bed, the mattress sagging as she flopped down onto it. Covering her face with the palms of her hands, she groaned, “Why didn’t you stop me? I can’t believe I said all those things to him. The man must think me completely addled, not to mention inappropriately forward, but once I got started I couldn’t seem to stop.”

“Hush now. I don’t believe Mr. Neville’s so easy to scare off. If anything, I think he quite enjoyed himself—his face seemed to radiate with enthusiasm. And the way he was looking at you the entire time he was here . . . why, I do believe it would be a chore for anyone to try and change his mind about marrying you. The only thing that remains to be seen is whether or not you’ll accept and elope with him.”

Lowering her hands, Rebecca said, “You know that I will, Laura. The alternative would be unthinkable.”

Chapter 9

W
hen Daniel returned to Roselyn Castle the following evening, it was with renewed determination. Tonight he would make another effort at convincing her to place her trust in him. He knew that she had reasons to be apprehensive, not only because of his past but also because of what would probably happen to her should they get caught before they were married. The Griftons were not forgiving people and would likely punish her severely for thwarting their wishes yet again. It was imperative that he prevent such an outcome, not only because of his own pride but also because of a deep need to make her happy. He couldn’t say precisely when he’d started to care so much about her well-being. In all likelihood, he’d fallen for her the moment they’d met, drawn to her company by her spark. But the emotions that now shot through him at the thought of her in the arms of any other man were intense—a need to both protect and possess that had developed gradually since the night of the ball. Since then, his longing for her had not diminished but grown, until he found himself tossing and turning at night, restless with thoughts of loving her the way she deserved to be loved.

Tapping gently on the window, he waited impatiently for it to open, but when it finally did, it was Laura who greeted him rather than the lady herself—surely not a good sign. “May I come in?” he asked.

Laura nodded. “I think she could do with a bit of cheering up.”

Daniel paused a moment, wary of the state in which he would find the otherwise vibrant Lady Rebecca. He would do anything to make her smile again, and without further hesitation, he quickly swung himself through the window and signaled for Mr. Shaw and his son to fall back.

He then looked around the room in search of the lady in question, except she was nowhere to be found. Puzzled, he turned to Laura, who nodded toward a massive wardrobe. “She sits in there from time to time when she wants to be alone with her thoughts.” He moved toward it, but Laura stayed him with her hand and said, “You ought to know that things have progressed. His Grace, the Duke of Grover, has gained the right to marry her.”

Fresh rage swept through Daniel. “Not if I can help it,” he muttered. He then stepped toward the piece of furniture that Lady Rebecca had retreated to and knocked gently on the door. When no answer came, he slowly eased it open.

It was dark inside but not overly full of clothes, making it easier for him to spot the slight figure of Lady Rebecca as she huddled against one corner. Crouching down, Daniel silently pushed a box aside and eased himself into the narrow space beside her. He then pulled on the door until it remained just slightly ajar and the light within had been diminished to a murky blackness.

“It’s good to see you again,” she said, her voice dismal when compared with the happiness it usually contained. “Has Laura told you the news?”

Daniel’s greatest desire in that instant was to restore her characteristic joy and laughter. He hated seeing her like this, but he could not blame her; she had good reason to feel miserable. “I want to help you,” he said, preparing to fight for her. “Will you allow me to do so?”

A beat of silence followed, and then she said, “I fear it may be too late. My aunt and uncle have already accepted the Duke of Grover as my future husband. The lawyers will be stopping by the day after tomorrow to handle the settlement, and then we’re off to London to announce the engagement. It is all settled.”

Fumbling about, he found her arm and followed the length of it with his fingers until he reached her hand. Wrapping his fingers around it, he gave it a gentle squeeze that he hoped would reassure her of his friendship and his willingness to assist her in any way possible. She didn’t pull away, but he heard a sharp intake of breath the moment he touched her. Was that a good or a bad thing? he wondered. It was difficult to tell.

“It is not too late until you speak your vows,” he said as his thumb brushed back and forth against her soft skin. He heard her swallow, her breathing grow a little deeper, and he couldn’t help but smile. He’d been aware of the effect he had on her a few times before, but he had buried his own urges because he’d wanted her to think well of him. This was still the case, of course, especially if he was going to convince her to come with him, but it also supplied him with the confidence he needed to press his case. “Elope with me to Scotland. I’ll marry you, and your aunt and uncle won’t ever be able to hurt you like this again. You’ll be under my protection.”

Mr. Neville’s willingness to risk scandal on her account touched her heart, and whatever qualms she’d previously had about accepting him were long gone now that she’d become affianced to the Duke of Grover—a man fifty-five years her senior who’d alluded to some most explicit bedroom activities that had made her stomach churn.

On the other hand, considering what she knew about Mr. Neville, she still wasn’t entirely sure she could trust him, particularly when it came to her dowry. All of it would become his property if a settlement wasn’t drawn up, and it wouldn’t be, not if they eloped. In fact, he would be able to disappear with her five thousand pounds the moment they were wed—a possibility that ought not to be dismissed, considering that he was marrying her for money to begin with.

All prospects considered, however, it was a chance she was willing to take, because if he
did
stand by her, she sensed that their marriage would be a happy one, filled with friendship, laughter and . . . passion, if the effect she had on him equaled the one he had on her. Even now, as he barely touched her, she could feel a flush creeping across her skin and her breasts beginning to tighten. With the very surreal feeling that she was leaping blindly into an abyss, Rebecca whispered, “I will accept your offer, Mr. Neville, if you will grant me a favor.”

“Anything—just name it.”

“That Laura is allowed to come with us. I won’t leave her behind.”

“Yes, of course,” he said, his voice low and thick in the darkness. Dear Lord, she didn’t have to see him to know that the heat radiating from his eyes would probably burn her to cinders. “You’ve made me extremely happy, my lady, and I will endeavor not to disappoint. The last thing I want is for you to regret your decision.”

He leaned closer, the length of him pressed up against her, the light stubble on his chin and jaw brushing against her neck until she ached for his touch. God help her if this made her wicked, but she could no longer deny the sensations that coursed through her whenever he was near—a wanton desire for his hands to caress her in places she rarely touched herself.

“May I kiss you now?” he asked, his words barely more than a breath of air against her flesh—flesh consumed with prickling heat.

“It’s one of my requirements,” she managed, attempting a touch of humor and hoping that she didn’t sound too desperate in doing so.

“Only one?” His hand had found her face and his fingers were tickling her jawline, turning her head in his direction.

“One of many,” she said, fearing that her galloping heart might escape from her chest.

“We’ll have plenty of time to discuss the rest later.” His breath caressed her cheek. “As for the one of kissing you—I’m only too happy to oblige.”

And then he did, his lips touching the corner of her own so gently that she scarcely felt it at all. But then he adjusted himself, his mouth finding hers with greater pressure. It felt good, though not as cataclysmic as she’d expected, given the way her body responded. Somehow, she’d imagined the kiss would increase her pleasure and this need she felt to crawl all over him with complete abandon, but it didn’t really. It was both puzzling and distressing.

“Why so tense?” he asked, pulling back just enough so he could speak.

Tense?

Rebecca forced her awareness back to her own body and realized that yes, she was. The reason for it came a second later. This man was a rake. He’d kissed countless women and had probably bedded an equal amount, while she had no experience at all. This was her first kiss and she was worried she’d disappoint, though she’d probably done so already. Why else would he have commented? “I’m sorry,” she muttered. “I know I lack the experience of—”

“Shh . . . not another word, Becky. May I call you Becky?”

She’d never had a pet name before, and the fact that he’d just given her one warmed her heart. “I like it,” she said.

“Good. Then you must call me Daniel from now on. Agreed?” She did, and he pulled her closer. “Now, let’s try that kiss again, shall we? Just relax and let me guide you.”

This time, she felt his tongue first as he brushed it against her lower lip, eliciting a helpless groan from her throat. His teeth came next, tugging gently at the plump flesh while his tongue pressed forward. Her mouth opened of its own accord, and he was there, ready to accept the invitation she offered.

This was what she’d wanted. Though she’d lacked the experience, her body had sensed that something had been missing. Daniel gave it to her now, stroke for stroke as his tongue slid over hers, teaching and directing as the pleasure of his kiss awakened other parts of her. She felt her nipples tighten against the fabric of her bodice and could think of nothing more wonderful than for him to touch her there. How sinful that would be—a notion that swiftly sent a wave of heat straight down between her thighs. She gasped, and Daniel pulled away, leaving her bereft.

“You learn quickly,” he rasped, “and I look forward to teaching you more, but if we don’t stop now, then I fear I may not be able to.”

The implication of his words sank in, and no matter how much she wished he’d act on his rakish impulses, she knew that he was right.

“I will return for you and Laura tomorrow evening,” he said.

“Thank you,” she said, happy that he’d mentioned her maid as well.

When they emerged from the wardrobe, they found Laura diligently mending some garment or other. “Have you come to an agreement?” she asked, setting her work aside and coming to place a blanket across Rebecca’s shoulders.

In the close confinement of the wardrobe, Rebecca had been unaware of the chill that filled the rest of the room. “Yes, Laura. We leave tomorrow. Mr. Neville has graciously offered to take me to Scotland, where we shall be married.”

The relief that flooded Laura’s features was beyond touching. “Thank you, sir,” she said as her eyes brimmed with tears. “I kept hoping you’d save her, and now you have. You’re a good man.”

Rebecca smiled, happy that the two most important people in her life were going to get along just fine.