The Skilled Seduction (5 page)

A laugh escaped her lips. Tonight had been a complete success and she had accomplished steps one and two in her elaborate plan. Victoria must now ensure Tristan realized just how much he needed her, and that he couldn’t live without her.

His desire for her would be the key to her continued success. Though it was dangerous, she was certain that the reward far outweighed the risks.
 

Victoria wound her way through the crowded ballroom in search of her brother and his wife. She would convince Sebastian and Gwen to escort her to London.

Her plan was a good one. Stoke the flames of Tristan’s desire until he relented. If tonight was any indication, it was simply a matter of time.

God help him.

He wouldn’t see her coming.

Chapter 2

Tristan maneuvered with care, avoiding London’s most vocal gossips and just about everyone else in the
ton
. This particular event, though held in the Almack’s Assembly Rooms and thus giving the appearance of class and distinction, was like all the others he detested – pure agony.

As he surveyed the room, he found the usual suspects. Though Parliament was not in session, several members who remained in the city were in attendance as were members of nobility. Parliament and the
ton
, a lethal combination to be sure, but it was the spouses Tristan always attempted to avoid. They were catty women intrigued by any eligible bachelor with wealth and a future title; always looking for some gossip – real or, if not, easily fabricated.

Though it was a well-known fact in London that Tristan was no longer in good standing, most seemed to forgive his indiscretions, either because he was wealthy, would inherit the title of Viscount upon his grandfather’s death or because they loved courting danger.

What the upper class wouldn’t forgive for the promise of fortune and nobility. He swallowed a large gulp of champagne to cleanse his palate of the bitter taste lodged in his throat.

They were vultures, one and all.

Though his reputation had taken a public blow in London, one that his sister knew nothing about, Tristan was no worse than most men, married or not. The difference was that he had been caught, or so the
ton
had been led to believe. Very few knew the truth, including his own family.
 

He sacrificed his noble reputation though no one, outside of a select few, would ever be privy to the particulars. It was for this reason that he was relieved that his sister spent such little time in London. Tristan preferred that Gwen not learn the ugly rumors about him, those that he allowed everyone in attendance tonight to presume.
 

Why did he tolerate his good name to be tarnished? Because it was the safest course of action and he had little to lose at the time.

Turning to his right, he walked down a long corridor lined with elaborately framed paintings, relishing the solitude. He paused to study an unrecognizable canvas containing splashes of bright colors in random shapes.

“That is atrocious,” a sweet voice murmured from behind him, causing Tristan to grin in response.
 

He hadn’t turned nor did he need to. He would recognize Victoria’s voice anywhere. God knew that he’d imagined it at least a thousand times since their last encounter, usually whispering his name in a heated moment of carnal passion.

“Oh, no! Lady Markham is approaching,” Tori announced in a hushed whisper. “I have been attempting to avoid her since my arrival in London. Please tell me she hasn’t noticed me.”

Tristan peered over Tori’s shoulder, just in time to see the dreadful woman headed in their direction. “I wish I could,” he asserted, no happier to see the old bat than Victoria.

“Victoria, darling,” the shrill voice set Tristan’s hairs on end.

Victoria stared at him, her azure eyes wide as she mouthed
help
before turning to face their intruder. “Lady Markham, what a delightful surprise. I didn’t expect to see you in attendance this evening.”

Tristan smiled, amused at the ease with which Tori lied to the dreaded intruder.

“Nor I,” declared Lady Markham, eyeing Tristan with disdain. “What are you doing here … with
him
?”
 

There was no attempt to be civil on Lady Markham’s part.

If Victoria thought the question strange or the older woman’s tone rude, she showed no indication. Instead she grinned. “I have come to fetch Tristan. His sister has been looking for him ever since our arrival. Tristan and the Duchess of Davenport are so very close.”

“Yes,” Lady Markham narrowed her eyes.

Tori ignored Lady Markham’s glacial tone. “Forgive my rudeness. Are you acquainted with the duchess’s brother or are introductions in order?”

“We are …” Lady Markham paused as if for dramatic effect, “acquainted.”

Tristan bowed, “It is a pleasure, my Lady.”

“There you are, my dear!” It was none other than Lord Markham, a jovial man with rosy cheeks and a wide grin – his disposition in complete contrast to that of his wife as he surveyed Tristan and Victoria. “Oh, hello, Mr. MacAlistair, my Lady … I have been looking everywhere for my wife. Come with me, my dear, come with me. Lord Thackston has arrived and we must greet him.”

Lady Markham turned from her husband, to Tristan, then to Victoria. “Will you be all right?”

“Rest assured we shall both be fine, thank you,” Victoria replied, deliberately misinterpreting the question. In turn, Lady Markham scowled, pursing her lips as if she’d sucked on a lemon.

Tristan added, “Yes, please do not allow us to keep you from Lord Thackston.”

Lady Markham exhaled an impatient breath before bidding her curt farewells.

“I see you have been making friends in London,” Victoria quipped once her Ladyship was out of earshot.

Tristan winked at her as he offered her his arm, “You know me.”

“Yes, I do,” she looped her arm through his. “Apparently, so does Lady Markham. Dare I ask what offense you have committed against her?”

 
“What? You don’t think she likes me?” Tristan retorted.

“No,” Victoria watched the thin woman disappear from view. “Unless I am to assume that her frosty reception is part of her charm.”

“Isn’t it, though?” Tristan steered Victoria in the opposite direction of Lady Markham and her husband. “Why were you hiding from her? And when did you arrive in London? I wasn’t expecting you for another few days.”

“We arrived this morning since Sebastian’s business in London took a higher priority than expected. As for Lady Markham …” Victoria paused, reaching for Tristan’s glass of champagne before taking a sip. “She insists upon introducing me to her nephew.”

“Over my dead body.” His harsh statement escaped his lips before Tristan could stop himself.

“My sentiments, exactly,” Victoria raised the flute in a silent toast. “Though, from what I understand, he is a respectable man who possesses an ample living.”

But he was a man, and for some unknown reason, Tristan couldn’t stand the idea of Victoria with anyone other than himself. It was exasperating, really. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking of her or their last encounter since he had returned to London.

“Tristan,” She touched his sleeve. Informal, to be sure. Though it wasn’t an intimate act, he delighted in her nearness, her gentle touch sending a current of excitement up his spine.

“Will you assist me?” she asked.

He nodded, not quite certain to what he had just agreed because, when Victoria looked at him through brilliant indigo eyes currently the shade of the deepest ocean, he’d agree to just about anything.

“Precisely what have I agreed to?”

Victoria tilted her head to the side. “In addition to Sebastian’s business in London, I have my own interests.”

“Do tell,” he winked at her.

“My charities, several of which I shall be meeting with tomorrow. You see, I have devoted much of my time to my charities and I have no intention of crying off the responsibilities I have undertaken. Not for anyone, including a future husband. My betrothed must accept that before I will agree to any union.”

That narrowed down the choices of potential suitors, Tristan noted with a grin. Most men didn’t want their wives as headstrong or independent as Victoria.

“You are smirking,” Tori arched a brow. “You think my statement is ridiculous—”

“Not at all. I am admiring your tenacity.” Tristan patted her gloved hand. “May I offer my opinion?”

“Please do.”

“Don’t allow anyone to deter you or change your mind.”

“Ah,” Victoria’s lyrical laughter echoed through the hall. “Because defiance is such an endearing quality in a bride.”

She said it.

And Tristan couldn’t agree more.
 

Victoria’s strength was one of the qualities he most admired in her. And her defiance would be off-putting to many an eligible bachelor.

Tristan tucked a stray curl behind her ear, his fingertip gently grazing her silken flesh. “Your tenacity is a quality I adore in you. I wouldn’t want you to change.”

“Then we are agreed,” Victoria’s smile lit the room. “You shall help me find the perfect husband.”

“
What?
” Tristan’s mind reeled. When did he agree to such a thing?
 

“You just admitted to appreciating the very qualities most men would despise. Who better to choose the perfect husband for me than someone who understands me as you do?”

“I – I—” somehow, Tristan’s world had shifted. He was never one at a loss for words yet this woman left him unsteady and confused.

Would it be so bad to help Victoria find a suitable husband? One who would respect her and cherish her?

It should be you.

Tristan’s conscience was quite vocal on this particular subject. If only it had been a couple of years earlier. If only …

“I knew you’d be my savior.”

Savior?

That sounded quite respectable.

Victoria leaned forward and kissed his cheek, his flesh burning in response, seared by her soft lips. Tristan placed his free hand in his pocket in an attempt to stop himself from reaching for her and pulling her close.

What in bloody hell was wrong with him?

“I will count on you not to leave my side this evening,” Victoria said as they strolled past several more paintings, each one more repulsive than the last, in his opinion.

“Who proposed the barbaric notion of a marriage mart?” she asked.

They passed a couple and bowed their heads in unison. The man looked miserable, his lips in a pout, while his companion’s eyes flashed in obvious anger.

Tristan leaned towards Tori then whispered, “Someone who is a glutton for punishment?”

“Marriage can’t be that bad,” she shook her head. “Look at Sebastian and Gwen. They’re blissfully happy. One could argue that they belong together.”

Victoria gauged Tristan’s reaction. His brow furrowed as he appeared to contemplate her last statement. When he failed to respond, she added, “I suppose some are fated to be together.”

“While some are fated to be alone.” His baritone reflected a combination of acceptance and what she recognized as remorse.

He was grouping himself in the latter category, she surmised.

“That is why your help is crucial to me,” she teased in an attempt to alleviate the maudlin mood that had settled within him. “I refuse to be shackled to someone related to the repulsive Lady Madeline Markham. We
must
find someone better suited for me.”

She paused long enough for it to sink in that Tristan would lose her if he didn’t make a move soon. Then she added, her tone light, “Shall we find Gwen? She is terribly excited to see you.”

They journeyed towards the main staircase when a good-humored male baritone called out, “Mr. MacAlistair, I have been looking everywhere for you.”

Turning, Tristan offered the tall, broad shouldered man his hand. “Lord Bixby, how are you this evening?”

“I detest events like this. They are so dreadfully boring, however, the food is delicious as is the liquor, which redeems the event.” His flushed cheeks hinted that he had indeed imbibed his fair share of the fine liquor.

“Lord Bixby, allow me to introduce Lady Victoria Montgomery.”

Tori offered her gloved hand to the dark haired man with gold wire rimmed glasses. “It is an honor, my Lord.”

“Tell me, my dear, do you find this event as dreadfully boring as I do?”

“To the contrary, my Lord, I find it most fascinating,” her eyes danced at Lord Bixby’s obvious surprise. “Where else can I encounter so many crucial members of Parliament? After all, you and your colleagues will be procuring me the right to vote in the near future, will you not?”

Tristan coughed behind his hand. It was all he could do to hide the smile that swept across his face at Tori’s last words.

Damn, she was courageous!

Bixby noticed it as well. “Brava, my dear!” he said with a laugh. “Where did you ever find this woman, Tristan? Beautiful and intelligent, I dare say.”