The Seducer (8 page)

The little infinity just grew and grew until what was happening became a dream taking place in the eternal darkness of a silent carriage. Nothing entered her mind except the wonder of it.

His teeth edged her ear, sending alluring chills through her body. His embrace wandered down her side, pressing through the thick cloth of his cape. “Are you still afraid?”

“No . . . yes . . . a little . . .”

“Of me now?”

He caressed her face, and his hand smoothed lower, to her neck. She could not believe what the meandering caress did to her.

“That is probably wise.”

She could not heed the little warning. The sensations streaming through her skin distracted her too much.

So did the next kiss. If his words suggested she stop this, his actions demanded that she not. The searching strokes of his fingers on her skin lured her into a wonderful madness. His passion was all in his actions—she was the one whose gasps and sighs filled the carriage.

He touched her mouth. He coaxed her lips open. Fingers sliding into her hair to hold her firmly, his teeth played at her, teasing with nips. His tongue flicked to touch hers, then entered.

The invasive intimacy sent deep, visceral thrills down to her hips. It served as a stark announcement of what they were doing and a bolder warning than his words had given.

The warmth of his embrace and the beauty of this small joining defeated her. She had never been held in any way in her life, let alone like this. Never been wanted by anyone. Never felt so alive in her essence. A poignant sigh of relief choked her. She wanted to nestle forever in this human connection.

He kept taking more. More of her body and will. He had her in a tiny place full of pleasure, where her selfness got blurred away.

“Are you still cold?”

She shook her head. They could be lying in the snow and she would not be cold.

He peeled away his cape and let it drop to the floor. Kissing her deeply, his fingers unlaced the tie of her cloak and pushed its edges back from her body. A chill shook her that had nothing to do with the temperature.

His chest crushed her arm. Without thinking, she slid it away and up around his shoulders.

A twig might have snapped, so clearly did the mutual embrace change him. His kisses became insistent and his caresses bolder. Her body reveled shamefully in its discoveries. The breast not pressed against his chest itched resentfully from the lack of contact. The whole of her silently urged his hand to move in different ways.

As if he heard, his caresses stroked lower. With long, warm lures through the thin silk, he touched her body with scandalous intimacy. Tilting his head, he kissed to the skin above her gown, then to the gown itself. The heat of his breath beckoned and she arched toward it. His mouth teased at her breast, nipping through the silk, closing on the tip.

It made her crazy. She had never thought anything could feel so good and necessary. The pleasure, and the desire for more, totally conquered her.

And he gave more. His embracing arm shifted her, so he could encompass her more securely. Even as he aroused one breast with his mouth, his hand slid up to titillate the other. He coaxed cries out of her and encouraged her to relinquish herself to the delicious euphoria.

She could not resist what was happening. She did not know how to. She did not
want
to.

He paused and gazed at her. She sensed a brittle tension rise in him, waver, and then soar higher. His hand swung back and knocked on the carriage wall.

He kissed her deeply and caressed her with a possessive hand that knew no restraint. The little pause had given her back a bit of sense, however. Reality intruded for an instant. She saw starkly what was happening and could not ignore the scandalous implications of how he now handled her.

He took her breast in his mouth again and stroked higher on her legs. She tottered on the edge of total abandon again. Her body desperately wanted to succumb and something uncivilized in her soul did too. The pleasure promised her that it would be wonderful. But another voice, barely surviving, warned it would be dangerous.

She forced her arm to drop from his shoulders. She leaned away. “We must not. You know we must not.”

It took all of the strength she had. Too much of her rebelled at the denial and prayed he would not accept it.

He looked at her. His hand still rested on her thigh, raising anticipations she dared not acknowledge. Even as he stopped he lured her.

If he kissed her again she would be undone.

He released his hold on her body. “Of course. You are right. The danger got the better of us both. People often forget themselves at such times.”

He eased her from his lap to the seat beside him and slipped her cloak around her again. Her heart twisted. He had offered an excuse for them both, but mostly for her.

He rapped on the wall again. He did not pull away or move to the other seat. He even kept his arm around her. It felt as if he did that out of kindness, so that she would not feel too embarrassed.

She sensed him putting distance between them despite their closeness. Before the carriage rolled to a stop, she knew that he intended to keep what had happened within the time and space in which they had just existed.

She should be grateful, but as he handed her out and escorted her to the door, a heavy sadness lodged beneath her heart.

The candles in the entryway barely illuminated his face as he walked her to the staircase.

“You should go to your chamber now, Diane. Have a maid clean your arm.”

His actions were as cool and courteous as ever, his words calm and bland. His composure astonished her.
She
could barely breathe.

She hurried up the curving steps. Halfway to the top, she glanced back. Daniel had not left. He watched her with an expression that caused her legs to go liquid.

He did not appear nearly as contained as he had acted and sounded. A male speculation flickered in his eyes, dangerously.

She suddenly understood the meaning of his first rap on the carriage wall. That knock had been a signal for the vehicle to keep moving and not return to the house. If she had not stopped him . . .

Face burning, she climbed the steps more quickly, a little worried that she would hear his step behind her.

She had come perilously close to being ravished in that carriage.

chapter
8

D
aniel moved silently and invisibly through the dark streets of the sleeping city. He tried to contain his thoughts to the matter at hand, but they kept flowing back to the sweet passion of a young woman in a dark carriage.

He cursed under his breath. It was inexcusable that tonight of all nights he had let pleasure distract him. He could have destroyed everything in one reckless impulse. If he had remained in that carriage, the delay would have jeopardized not one but two goals.

He never lost control to anything, least of all lust. Now he almost had, and it infuriated him.

He tried to hang on to his anger, but the memories kept returning, cooling his rancor with their sweet breeze, luring him away from his determination.

He paused in the shadow of a doorway. He would never be able to complete tonight’s work like this. Thoughts of Diane’s sighs and softness would make him careless.

Cursing again, he forced himself to a different path. His legs carried him, but his spirit rebelled.

He found his way to a place he never visited except when he needed the starkest reminder of who he was. His carriage never passed by this square and he rarely walked within three streets of its location. He avoided Paris itself because of this place. He resented like hell that he had to come here now, to stoke the fires of his resolution and to punish himself for briefly forgetting the reason he even stayed alive.

He leaned against a wall and gazed at a very specific spot in the darkness. He knew exactly where it was, how many paces away. It was just another group of paving stones among many others, its horrible history scuffed into oblivion by thousands of feet.

Memories assaulted him. Old ones, too vivid considering their age. Memories of horror and of dreadful helplessness. Ugly sounds and uglier sights, and eyes reflecting the onset of terror in one final glance.

He did not stay long but it might have been a lifetime. It
had
been a lifetime. He avoided this particular place, but his soul was never very far from it.

He aimed toward the destination almost forgotten while he held Diane in his arms, and toward the purpose almost abandoned to the impulse to possess her.

The house was dark, full of night’s repose. Daniel scanned the facade up to the small garret windows set above the eaves. A tiny, flickering light peeked through the gloom from one of them.

He walked through the alley to the house’s rear. He stripped off his coat and dropped it behind a bush. Feeling for the deep joints of the corner quoins, he edged his way up the wall.

No waistcoat impeded his movement. His black shirt would reflect no moonlight. He was a dark form inching over a dark mass.

He reached the second level and felt for the window to his left. His fingers clawed under the slight protrusion where it had been left slightly ajar. He carefully eased it open, swung around it, and entered the chamber.

The lowest embers still burned in the fireplace, but he did not need them. He recognized his destination from its bizarre profile atop a long table. Slumped into a chair beside it was the sleeping form of a man too anxious to go to bed, but too exhausted to stay awake.

Daniel examined the apparatus. Two cylinders rested on a wooden frame and wires extended into a pan of liquid. Using a stick of wood, he lifted the wires from the pan, memorizing their correct positions. He dipped his fingers into the liquid and his touch closed on a solid, squarish piece of metal. He felt its shape, noting the one blunt corner and the vague incisions along the surface.

Reaching into his pocket, he removed another piece of metal with identical markings. He switched it for the one beneath his fingers, replaced the wires, and strolled back to the window.

He slipped out and found his toeholds on the rusticated quoins. He pushed the window closed. By morning it would be locked.

He dropped to the ground and headed back through the dark streets. His part was done. Vanity would take care of things after this.

Now, he would finish the rest of it.

The garbled curse of a madman echoed in his mind. It must be concluded quickly, too, because time might be running out.

Everything had changed and Diane could not pretend it hadn’t.

Daniel acted as though the lapse in the carriage had not happened, but the return of his polite indifference could not put them back where they had been this time. What they had done hung in the air during the meals and brief periods when she shared his company, and occupied her thoughts even when they were apart.

She could not suppress a new susceptibility to his presence. The magnetism was always there, making her heart pound. He did not even need to look at her for one of those infinities to begin. She kept expecting him to walk over and kiss her again. She worried that he would show up at her chamber door.

Worse, she was not entirely sure that she would refuse him that kiss, or even more. Not if he made her feel what she had in that carriage.

Which meant that she could not in good conscience stay in his house any longer.

During her social rounds with Jeanette, she let it be known that she would not be adverse to a position as a companion or governess if any of Jeanette’s friends knew of such a situation. She made it clear that she would prefer an English family. That way she might eventually be brought to England and in the meantime might meet people who had known a family named Albret.

She went down to the breakfast room a week later to find Daniel making one of his rare morning appearances. Jeanette and he sat quietly together. Diane joined them, but silence descended after the initial courtesies.

Finally Daniel excused himself. “When you are finished here, Diane, I would like you to come to the library. There is something that I need to say to you.”

She did not hurry her meal. He was probably going to apologize and make more excuses for them both. She would prefer to avoid the topic altogether.

Jeanette called for Paul. As the servant lifted his mistress in his arms, Jeanette looked down at her. “My brother has set aside important business to speak with you. Please do not make him wait too long.”

She might have left him waiting forever but for that pointed request.

She found him in the library, sitting in a chair by the hearth. Another one had been moved near it, for her. He appeared distracted when she entered, much as he had on that journey from Rouen.

She thought of how often she had seen that expression, even at meals sometimes, even as he conversed with Jeanette. His air of indifference was partly explained by the impression that part of his mind was always occupied elsewhere.

He brooded over something and she doubted it was Diane Albret. Business? Shipping? She did not think so. It was deeper and older. It was something much more personal. It was always there, a dark force rippling through his body and presence like a barely contained energy.

She sat. He glanced over, then returned his gaze to the fire.

“My sister tells me that you have been asking her friends to inquire about a position for you.”

“It seemed the sensible thing to do. There are many English families here.”

“Most are attached to the army or government. It may be a long time before you go to England.”

“Then I will have to wait. From the looks of things, it will also be a long time if I stay in this house.”

“Not at all. I informed Jeanette this morning that we will be leaving for London in several days.”

That stunned her. There had been no indication of such plans. It seemed odd to announce a departure so suddenly.

“I would like you to reconsider this decision to go off on your own. I would also like to propose a small change in your plans once we arrive in England.”

“What kind of change?”

“An appealing one, I hope. A better position for you than that of a governess.”

She braced herself. She could not believe he was going to be this bold.

“My sister has grown fond of you. She will be accompanying me this time. She will not be comfortable going about as she does here. A companion will ease her isolation.”

She gazed at this handsome man, confidently relaxed in the other chair. No wonder Jeanette had been so quiet at breakfast. His sister probably suspected what he was up to.

Maybe Jeanette did not just suspect. Perhaps she knew. That was a sad notion. Diane had grown very fond of Jeanette. It had been a little as she imagined having a sister would be. She did not care for the idea that maybe Jeanette had been deliberately grooming her to be Daniel’s lover.

From what Daniel was proposing, and considering what had passed between them in the carriage, that was the true position waiting for her in England.

That did not shock her as much as it should. A part of her had been waiting for this overture all week. Maybe all month. Still, she wished it weren’t true. It tainted all of the kindnesses and soiled all of the generosity and made what had happened after the opera a calculated seduction.

It also rankled her that Daniel thought she was so stupid that she wouldn’t see this ruse for what it was.

“We would continue in England as we have here?”

“Yes.”

“I would be free to go calling, and have friends? You would provide for my wardrobe and other needs?”

“Of course.”

His utter calm annoyed her. He might be at least a little chagrined. “What happens to me when your sister returns to Paris and you no longer have need of me?”

“By then you will have several options, including the original one of being a governess. No doubt you can be a companion for another lady. You might marry, which is not a likely prospect if you are a governess.”

Daniel St. John was no Monsieur Johnson, it appeared.

“If I accept this position, I will be unsuitable later as a governess, or companion, and especially as a wife. After this position, no one would ever consider me for one of those, and you know it. You could at least have the decency to do as other men, and offer me property and jewels or some settlement.”

He looked over with a startled expression, and then with an amazed one. She definitely had all of his attention now.

“You have misunderstood me, Diane.”

“I understand very well. I have always understood in my heart, but ignored the evidence. You have been overly generous and introduced me to luxuries and comforts beyond my dreams. I own a wardrobe the daughter of a count might envy. I am presented as a lady and live like one. Madame Leblanc warned me of things before I left with you, and I understand now that she was correct.”

“I can see how it might look to you, especially after what occurred in the carriage.”

“
Indeed.
I may not be very worldly, but neither am I as stupid as a cabbage.”

“I assure you again that you have misunderstood.”

His eyes held amusement, and also a charming warmth.

A dreadful thought poked at her. Perhaps she
had
misunderstood?

“You really speak of my being your sister’s companion, and no more? That is all that you will expect of me?”

“That is all that I will expect of you.”

Humiliation flooded her. It was bad enough to accuse him of such a thing, but to have been wrong . . .

She covered her face with her hands and laughed at herself. “I . . . Oh, dear . . . This is very awkward . . .”

“There is no reason for you to feel awkward.” He spoke, and looked, more kindly than she had ever seen him. “You wonder about my intentions. I don’t blame you. The last weeks must have confused you. What was the point of this generosity? Why turn you into a lady if you only sought to be a governess?”

“It
has
been peculiar, and exactly what Madame predicted.”

“Then I fulfilled the prediction last week. I promise you, this is not a grand scheme to get you into my bed.”

She blushed hotly and was grateful when he rose and went to the fire.

He gazed at it. “I should probably admit that the generosity has not been without benefit to me, as will be your presence in my household in London. I am a man of affairs. Wives and women relatives are very useful to men such as myself. My sister’s infirmity means that she cannot attract the attention of men whom it would be profitable for me to meet. You will, in London as you have already done here. There is nothing sordid to it. It is the way of the world. With a lovely cousin in society, my circles will expand, that is all.”

“Do you expect me to encourage these men?”

“Not at all. It will happen without any effort on anyone’s part. Admirers will appear. I will meet them and their fathers and uncles. Cards will be played at clubs, business will get done, and you will be none the wiser.”

She wiped tears of embarrassed laughter from her eyes. “I thank you for explaining this. It certainly gives the last few weeks more sense. After what Madame said . . . well, it appeared as though . . . and then the opera . . . but I see that was truly a result of the danger. It is reassuring to know that you do not think of me in that way.”