When His Kiss Is Wicked (6 page)

Now curious to see where Lucien Sinclair was going, and for just whom he was carrying a glass of champagne, she craned her head, but could not see through the crowd of guests. She lost sight of him as he entered one of the withdrawing rooms. A pang of disappointment shot through her.

“Watching someone in particular?” Jeffrey asked with a meaningful glance.

Although she sensed that Lord Eddington knew full well whom she had been staring at, she was embarrassed to be caught doing so. Colette blushed. “I thought I saw Lord Waverly across the room, but I must have been mistaken.”

Jeffrey regarded her carefully before saying, “You were not mistaken. That was Lord Waverly. He’s a very good friend of mine. We’ve known each other since we were boys.”

Here was a perfect source of information for Colette’s burning questions. “Does he always behave so maddeningly?”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Well…” she began, “sometimes he seems so disapproving, close-minded, and stuffy, and then he can suddenly be lighthearted and charming.”

“You find him charming, do you?” Jeffrey gave her a questioning glance.

“Perhaps,” was her noncommittal response. She supposed Lucien Sinclair was charming in a maddening way.

“Well, I shall only say that Lucien has suffered in his life and he is often harder on himself than he needs to be.”

Colette so wanted to know more about Lucien Sinclair, but bit her tongue so as not to seem like she was prying.

“Uh-oh,” Jeffrey muttered low. “I’m afraid we are in for it now.”

“What is it?”

“Here comes your aunt, and she looks decidedly unhappy.”

Aunt Cecilia swooped down upon them in a flurry, her pale face pinched in disapproval, obviously dismayed to discover Colette with Lord Eddington, a man not inclined to enter into matrimony.

“Colette, I have been looking for you everywhere. Good evening, Lord Eddington.” She gave a brief nod in his direction, her thin lips pursed in silent displeasure of his dallying with her niece.

“Good evening, Lady Hamilton,” Jeffrey said with a most polite stance. “That shade of lavender complements your eyes most attractively.”

Colette was stunned to note that her prim aunt actually looked flustered by Jeffrey’s compliment.

“Why thank you, Lord Eddington.” The faintest hint of a smile quickly vanished from Aunt Cecilia’s face as she turned to her niece. “Now you must come with me, Colette. Your uncle wishes to introduce you to Baron Sheffield.”

“Yes, Aunt Cecilia.” She turned back to Jeffrey and smiled at him. “Thank you for a lovely time.”

As her aunt dragged her away, she felt sure Jeffrey was winking at her.

“With your face, you should have every eligible bachelor falling at your feet. Instead I see you with Lord Eddington, and everyone knows he will never settle down.” Uncle Randall scolded Colette with an impatient wag of his finger.

Aunt Cecilia added quietly, “For all his charm and good looks, Jeffrey Eddington is a complete waste of all our time and effort.”

Uncle Randall continued to rant his disapproval of her behavior. “You need to focus your attentions on the proper kind of gentleman. Wealthy but suitable gentlemen very interested in marriage. The ones I choose for you.”

“But the men you see as potential husbands for us are old enough to be our father,” Colette retorted heatedly. And the most unattractive, she added to herself.

Aunt Cecilia snapped, her tone bitter, “Because they are the ones with the money, Colette. And the ones desperate enough for a wife to put up with you and your appalling lack of any kind of a dowry. Marriage is a serious business, and if you are still harboring any romantic illusions, you can just forget about them.”

Groaning inwardly, Colette remained silent. She had no romantic illusions where marriage was concerned. She had learned that from watching her own parents.

Uncle Randall took hold her arm with greater force than necessary and pulled her close to him, stating, “I’m going to introduce you to Baron Sheffield now and you will be polite and flattering to him. He’s extremely wealthy, having invested wisely in the textile market, and looking for a young bride to bear his children. He’s been out of the country for some months and just returned. I’ve spoken to him about you, and he has watched you all evening and thinks you are quite lovely. He is also under the misguided impression that you have a disposition to match your looks. Don’t you dare disappoint him with your modern ideas until after the wedding! Can you do that?”

Nodding, Colette glared at her uncle but did not respond, however much she longed to do so with a cutting remark. Somehow she managed to pull her arm from his grasp and took a step away from him.

“Now, here he comes. This is could be a very profitable venture, Colette. Smile and behave,” Uncle Randall whispered sharply through the clenched teeth of his forced smile.

Colette looked up and her heart sank at the sight before her. Lumbering in their direction was a very large man who had to be at least forty if he was a day. He was younger than some of the doddering old fools she had met earlier, but his manner immediately repulsed her. With heavily pomaded black hair and a thick black beard, he smiled crookedly as he neared them, revealing tobacco-stained teeth.

“Ah, Baron Sheffield,” Uncle Randall began with a feigned tone of happiness. “I would like to introduce you to my beautiful niece, Miss Colette Hamilton. Colette, dearest, this is Baron Chester Sheffield.”

The distasteful man presented a gloved hand for Colette to take; yet she shuddered at his touch just the same.

“I have been most anxious to meet you, Miss Hamilton,” he said, with an obvious leer down the front of her peach silk gown.

Colette gritted her teeth and pasted a smile on her face, wishing she could slap the lascivious expression from his face. At that moment she hated her uncle. “It’s an honor to meet you, too, sir.”

“I regret I cannot ask you to dance, Miss Hamilton. I have never been fond of dancing and prefer other entertainments.”

“That’s quite all right,” she answered, very relieved, but not surprised, that dancing did not appeal to him. The man could hardly walk. She gathered that most endeavors that required any sort of physical exertion repelled him.

“Shall we go out on the terrace for a breath of fresh air?” he asked, his relentless gaze piercing her.

“That’s a wonderful idea,” Aunt Cecilia chimed in cheerily, ignoring the blatant look of disgust on Colette’s face. “We shall leave you with Baron Sheffield for a few moments while we see to your sister.” Aunt Cecilia’s sharp eyes told her in no uncertain terms to not refuse the baron’s invitation.

Before Colette could utter a protest, Baron Sheffield had a firm hand on her arm and he led her through a pair of French doors to the terrace. An enormous full moon glistened high in the sky, and the night air felt cool upon her skin. Colette breathed deeply of it so she did not have to smell Baron Sheffield.

“So, tell me about yourself, Miss Hamilton,” he suggested amiably, as they made their way across the slate stones.

Ignoring the stench of stale cigar smoke around him, she responded, “I fear there is not much to tell. I am sure my uncle told you everything you need to know about me.”
That we are desperate for money and I am apparently available to the highest bidder?

“Ah, such modesty. I admire that trait in a woman. It’s such a rarity nowadays. Nevertheless I’m still curious as to why a lovely young lady such as yourself is not yet married. Why is that?”

Did she imagine that his hand clutched her arm tighter? Or that he was deliberately leading her from the gaslit terrace onto the darkened brick pathway to the more shadowy garden beyond? Did he actually think to make a romantic overture to her? She almost laughed in his face.

Fed up with men pulling her this way and that all evening, Colette stopped walking before they reached the tall shrubbery that blocked their view of the house. Her abrupt movement catching him off guard, he turned and glanced at her shrewdly.

“You haven’t answered my question, Miss Hamilton.”

“Perhaps you should first tell me why you are not yet married, sir.”

His squinty eyes peered at her more closely. “Well, you do have a bit of spark in you after all. From your uncle’s descriptions I thought you would be a meek little kitten.”

“Well then, please let me rid you of that notion right here and now,” she declared, staring back at him. She was not about to go off in the dark with this man, no matter what her uncle said. And there was no way she was going to marry him either. They were not
that
desperate. “If it is an obedient wife you seek, then I am afraid you have been greatly misled by my uncle where I am concerned.”

“I know how to handle a disobedient wife, Miss Hamilton. Make no mistake about that.” He grinned, lowering his face close to hers, and the stench of his breath made her head spin. “But I do indeed intend to find out if what I am about to purchase is worth my good money.”

“Purchase?” she echoed with indignation. But then again, wasn’t that what her uncle was doing? Selling her and Juliette? In essence, wasn’t that what the marriage mart was all about in the end? A simple exchange of property?

Before she realized his intent, Baron Sheffield’s clammy lips were pressed against hers as he pulled her tight against his barrel chest. She was no match for his large size, and he swung her around easily enough, lifting her off her feet and moving her farther into the shadowy area behind the bushes. As she struggled against the suffocating girth of him, she did not know which was worse, his rough whiskers scraping against her face or his fetid breath assailing her nostrils. She managed to pull her mouth from his, but his hands were still locked on her upper arms, holding her in place.

“Let go of me!” she cried, not caring at this point who saw them together or that her reputation would be ruined in the process. She simply wanted the odious beast to release her. Then at least she could outrun the man.

“Ah, the little kitten has claws!” He breathed hotly against her neck. “I think you might just be worth that much money after all.”

“Let me go!”

Colette kicked her slippered foot against his leg as hard as she could, but it had no effect upon him. With her eyes tightly closed, she swung her head from side to side to avoid his wet fish lips and struggled to try to pull herself away from his forceful grip.

Suddenly she was free.

Stunned, she opened her eyes, trying to catch her breath.

“I believe the lady asked to be released.”

Lord Waverly had Baron Sheffield’s arm twisted behind his back. In spite of Baron Sheffield’s unwieldy size, Lord Waverly seemed to loom over him. Colette did not recall Lucien Sinclair being quite so tall, but she was only too grateful for his height and strength, as well as his unexpected and quite timely appearance. The baron had the gall to look affronted, while the murderous expression on Lord Waverly’s face left little doubt of his feelings on the situation.

“Unhand me, man!” Baron Sheffield sputtered in abject indignation, his round face puffed with outrage.

“First, you will apologize to the lady for taking liberties with her that were quite obviously unwanted. Second, you will leave this house immediately. Third, you will never come near Miss Hamilton again, or I shall not be so forgiving,” Lord Waverly said. His voice had an edge that brooked no argument. To emphasize his point, he twisted the man’s fat arm even tighter. “And if you apologize very nicely, I won’t knock your teeth down your throat.”

Aware of his weakness, the corpulent baron glared angrily at Colette and muttered with undisguised resentment, “My deepest apologies, Miss Hamilton. Please forgive my lack of control and excessive infatuation at your charms.”

Lord Waverly released him with such force that the man stumbled forward and nearly fell flat on his face. Colette practically had to jump out of his way to avoid him, instinctively moving closer to Lord Waverly.

As he got to his feet again, the baron spat, “This won’t be the end of it, Waverly.” To Colette he spewed, “And you can tell your uncle that the deal is off.” He turned and lumbered, huffing and puffing, as quickly as he could manage back to Lord Hutton’s townhouse.

Still trying to catch her own breath, Colette finally raised her eyes to Lord Waverly’s and felt a little lost looking in them. “Thank you.”

“There is no need for thanks. Did he hurt you, Colette?” he asked, his voice full of concern.

She shook her head mutely, stunned at his use of her given name.

“Would you care to go back inside now?”

“No, not yet,” she answered without hesitation. She was in no hurry to rejoin her aunt and uncle. “I think I should like a moment.”

As if he understood her motivation, he said, “There’s a bench over there. Come sit and pull yourself together a bit before going back to the ballroom.”

For the first time all evening, she did not mind in the least that a man placed his hand on her arm. Lord Waverly gently guided her to a white marble bench set in an enclosure of leafy hydrangea bushes along the brick pathway, where some moonlight spilled through the trees above. The faint sounds of the orchestra playing from the ballroom drifted around them.

“Are you sure he did not hurt you?” he asked again, once they were both seated. His eyes quickly roamed over her body, as if he was assuring himself that she was unharmed.

Colette’s pulse quickened under his scrutiny and her stomach felt suddenly full of butterflies. “I think he may have bruised my arms, but other than that I am quite well. I’m fortunate you came along when you did.”

“It wasn’t good fortune. I followed you.”

“What do you mean?” she asked in surprise.

“I saw you leave the ballroom with him. You had a decidedly…unwilling look on your face. When I saw him take you from the terrace, I just—”

“You just…?” She prompted him.

“I just had a feeling he was not going to behave with you as a gentleman should.”

“Well, your instincts about Baron Sheffield proved quite accurate. He was horrid.”

“Please don’t tell me that your uncle thought that man was a prospective husband for you,” Lord Waverly said.

Colette looked directly at him, once again thrown off balance by the stark handsomeness of his face. And the intensity of his gaze. And the fullness of his lips. Something about this man made her feel giddy, light-headed even. A delicious shiver ran through her. So different from the repulsive shiver she felt earlier with the baron.

“Apparently Baron Sheffield had been given the impression by my uncle that I would make a good wife for him.”

“And you disabused him of that assumption?”

“Quite successfully.” She couldn’t help but grin. “With your help and persuasion, of course.”

“You are most welcome,” he said affably before his expression turned serious. “But why would your uncle choose such an unlikely prospect for you? Surely there must be a gentleman more to your liking than that rude beast?”

“My uncle expects my sister and me to marry very well. Baron Sheffield possesses all the required assets for a husband as far as my uncle is concerned.”

“And those assets would be what?”

“Pots and pots of money. In addition to his baronial estate, he is apparently very wealthy from textile investments.”

“Ah, I see,” he stated quietly, his handsome face thoughtful. “Money is the key component of this marriage?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“You are quite candid.”

“It is my uncle’s decision,” she tried to explain, realizing how mercenary it seemed. “The reality is such that my father left my mother, my sisters, and me a less than modest amount to live on. Women have very little recourse in situations like this, Lord Waverly. Juliette and I need to marry well to support our family.”

He nodded his head in understanding. “But what of the bookshop? Does that not bring in income for you?”

“Unfortunately, not enough.”

“Why don’t you simply sell the shop, then? It must be worth a good sum.”

She shook her head determinedly. “No. Selling the shop is not an option.”

“It means that much to you?” He could not mask the surprise in his voice.

“More than anything. I shall never sell Hamilton’s.”

Recognizing the resolve in her tone, he shook his head slightly. “If you insist upon keeping the shop, then perhaps it is best that you should marry soon so you can have the proper support and guidance of a husband, Miss Hamilton.”

Ignoring his words, which disparaged her ability to manage the shop on her own, she simply said, “You called me Colette earlier.”

“I did?” His voice was threaded with surprise. “I had not noticed. Forgive me.”

The man seemed to be a study in contrasts. “For an earl with a well-known reputation, you are behaving like quite the gentleman, Lord Waverly.”