Wildfire Kiss (6 page)

He called up her eyes as he whispered low, and his
voice sent a thrill through her system. “You look enchanting, my
lady.”

“Thank you, your grace. You look rather enchanting
yourself …”
Oh my goodness,
she thought.
That didn’t
just come out of my mouth!

He chuckled and said with a chin towards Otto, “I
see your friend has suffered no ill effects from his experience
yesterday.”

She threw her head back and giggled. “Otto? Oh no.
He is forever doing something of the sort. They call him
Deathwish
on the hunting field.”

“
Deathwish
, eh? They should call him
Lucky
,” the duke said on a quiet note.

“Well, that depends on how you view it all. One
could say he was unlucky to find so many unfortunate
situations—”

He cut her off, as when he bent to whisper in her
ear she lost all train of thought and ability to speak. The
softness of his husky breath near her ear actually made her close
her eyes. “No, I meant lucky to call you friend and have you with
him so often.”

“Ah …” She managed to sound cool in spite of
her trembling knees. “Here it is, that deadly charm Chuck warned me
about.” She had to keep control over herself. She would not turn
into a schoolgirl in this man’s arms—she would not, she told
herself roundly.

He laughed and said, “Acquit me, child. I meant the
compliment, truly.”

“Oh … then you are
not
flirting with
me?” she teased.

He cocked his head. “It would be my pleasure to do
so, if I believed you wished it.”

“And what woman would not? After all, you are a
handsome duke with a worthy reputation,” she said naughtily. “But
then, what did you call me … ah yes,
child
? So I
suppose you do not think me a …
woman?”

“Not think you a woman?” His smile was devilish and
devastatingly winsome. “Ah, but I see that you are the most
dangerous kind.”

“How so?”

“You creep up on a man, just when he thinks he is
safe in your hoyden company,” he said.

She laughed and said, “Touché!”

He twirled her one last time before he brought her
up close, too close, only to stop and bow, for the music had ended.
He offered his arm and said, “Shall I return you to your
papa …?”

“I think not …” She eyed him coyly and
indicated with her chin. “I do believe Otto has been trying to get
my attention.”

He stopped her then, for they were out of the crush
of people, and said, “You would be in your rights, you know, to put
up your chin and turn me up cold for calling you a hoyden.”

“Would I? But …” She laughed and said, “’Tis
what Papa always says. You see, I learned early on that boys are
able to do so many more famous things, sooo …”

“
So
… you very naturally adopted their
manners?” He quizzed her.

She felt the blush burn her cheeks, but Sir Charles
was at that moment closing in on them. She made the duke a small
curtsey. “Thank you, your grace …”

He smiled wide and bent low over her fingers. “The
pleasure was all mine.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she answered roguishly, turning
away to greet his cousin Charles, who was saying something about
the country dance. “I had quite a bit of pleasure, myself.” She
gave him an impish smile and went back onto the dance floor with
Charles. From the corner of her eyes she noted with no little
satisfaction that the Duke of Barrington watched her departing
form.

***

“Nick?”

He turned to the sound of a familiar woman’s
seductive voice and found Julia’s dark blues warm with her
greeting. He smiled, but he was not pleased to see her.

“Oh, Nick, I had heard you were in London and have
been hoping I would see you.” She placed both her white
satin–gloved hands on his chest and lifted her tall and elegant
body onto her toes, whereupon she placed a lingering kiss upon his
lips. “Oh Nick …”

“Julia,” he said quietly as memories flooded his
mind. She was, he thought, as ever, stunningly beautiful. “It is
Julia
Hartly
now, isn’t it?”

“Still smarting from that, are you?” she retorted
with a musical laugh that grated on his nerves. She linked her arm
through his. “Well, let us see if we can make it all better, shall
we …” She led him towards the garden doors.

Oddly enough, he found himself irritated with her
flippant manner. He shouldn’t be—he knew what she was about
now—but, damnation, he was. He damn well did not want to go
anywhere with her. How could she think he would after their
volatile history? “It might be a bit cold for you outside, my
dear,” Nick said as politely as he could muster as he gave her bare
shoulders a sweeping look.

“You shall keep me warm then, for outdoors is where
we certainly must go.” She gave him a long, lingering look. “I have
so missed you, darling.”

“Julia … you haven’t missed me. You have been
too busy to miss anyone or anything. Tell me what it is that you
want,” he returned on a bored note.

“Now, now, don’t take a pet. Come with me … and
we’ll talk …” she said with a short laugh. “You cannot still
be angry with me? I did you a favor after all. You and I would
never have suited.”

“Agreed,” he answered, and rather than create a
scene, for he could see she wasn’t about to give up easily, he
allowed her to lead him out the doors. He looked back as he stepped
outside and noted that the Lady Babs was dancing with his cousin.
He realized by the way she hurriedly looked away that she had seen
him going into the garden with Julia. Frowning, he turned back to
the woman he had once fancied. “Indeed then, as long as we
understand one another, lead on, my dear.”

Her soft laughter was light and indicated her
satisfaction, and that, instead of exciting him to passion as she
had intended, irritated him further.

***

On the dance floor, during the machinations of a
country dance that made conversation difficult, Babs witnessed the
duke’s encounter with the beauty. She stared with curiosity and a
twinge of jealousy.
What is wrong with you?
She asked
herself,
What is it to you if a rogue of flirts goes about
flirting? It has naught to do with you!

When next she came together with Charles, she took
his hand and dragged him off the floor with him objecting mildly at
her back.

“I need something to drink, sir …” she told
him.

“Ah then,” he said, looking about and finding a
servant with a tray of glasses filled with champagne. He snatched
up two glasses and gave her one. “Your wish …”

She laughed and got right to the point. “Who was
that beautiful, tall blonde in the stunning gown—the one who went
into the garden with the duke?”

He eyed her and grimaced. “Why?”

“Because her gown was exquisite … and I am
curious,” Lady Babs fibbed, which made her bite her bottom lip.

He eyed her doubtfully and said, “That would be
Julia Hartly.”

“They are probably … old friends?” Babs
pursued.

“I would call them many things—but
never
friends.”

“Oh?” she said, hoping he would tell her more.

“Nearly became engaged, you know, but that is
another story, a long one.”

“I am not running off anywhere, Chuck.” She smiled
sweetly and encouragingly, hoping he would tell her more.

“Curious little pet, aren’t you?” He looked at her.
“Why so interested? And don’t tell me because of her gown.”

“Because
I am curious
. You know me.”

“Yes, yes, I do. Leave it be. It isn’t my story to
tell.”

“Chuck, you can be one of the most provoking
creatures I know.”

“Next to you, Babs my sweet, I am a saint,” was all
he would give her besides the grape he found on a nearby table and
plopped into her mouth.

***

Corrine Bretton groaned as the coach in which she
was attempting to find comfort lurched and swayed over the badly
rutted road.

“Auntie Jane …” she said as she gazed and
caught the eye of her stout aunt. “Are you certain that arriving in
the dead of night at Lord Waverly’s will not be too presumptuous?
An inner voice keeps telling me that we should have put this off
until morning.”

“Nonsense! He is after all my brother,” returned
Lady Jane Bretton, who clucked and added, “Besides,
he sent for
us
.”

“Nooo,” objected Corrine, “he sent for you and isn’t
aware that I am—”

“You are my niece, my dear late husband’s blood, and
I love you as I would my own daughter. Therefore, you are as
welcome as I.”

Corrine sighed and said, “Yes, Auntie.”

“You are a dear, good girl. Sweet and placid of
nature. Perhaps your hair needs a bit of styling, but it is the
loveliest shade of auburn. Your eyes are bright, and there is a
touch of green behind the hazel …” Aunt Jane sighed. “Indeed,
you are a catch but no one will know it stuck in the country as you
have been. This will be good for you, and it will be nice for you
to meet your cousin Babs. She is a complete handful but a dear
child all the same. I can’t think why I didn’t throw the two of you
together sooner.”

“Because, dearest, I have spent most of my years in
America with my parents, as you well know.” Corrine laughed and
then sighed. “I must admit that while I loved the bustle of New
York and do miss it, this trip to London is very exciting. However,
that sidesteps us from the subject at hand.”

“What subject is that?”

“Why we must arrive in the middle of the night? Why
don’t we put up at a reputable hotel and—”

“Logical, but useless. If I know my niece, Babs, she
and her father are out and about at some ball or other. Gadabouts
the two of them, cut from the same mold, but darling creatures,
really. They just need someone to guide them, which Babs’ mother
did very well until her death. Bless and God rest her soul.” She
sighed and then waved this off. “Never mind, we won’t think about
that now. You, Corrine dear, are just the one to keep Babs in
line.”

“
Keep her in line
? I will do no such
thing—”

“She is in some scrape or other and needs guidance.
You will set a perfect example for her.” She leaned in and
confided, “My brother loves me, but he can’t abide my company for
long, which means if he has sent for me, something is terribly
wrong.”

Miss Bretton put all this information aside and
returned to the question at hand. “And still I do not understand
why—”

“Oh pooh!” cut in Lady Jane. “I am not about to
sleep between strange sheets simply because of the lateness of the
hour. Depend upon it, Waverly don’t expect it of me. What he does
expect is
almost anything
from me, and that is precisely
what I like to give him.”

Miss Bretton gave it up. Her aunt had evidently made
up her mind. She took to staring out the window as her aunt
suddenly fell off to sleep. Street lamps began increasing in
numbers as they entered the heart of the city, and Miss Bretton
looked about with keen excitement. London, she was really in
London.

Faith, how her life had changed in the past
year.

She had been attending finishing school in Boston
when she suddenly received word that her parents had been lost in a
boating accident off the coast of Virginia.

One moment she was whole, and the next, she was
falling apart.

She had been left with a small inheritance and a
tobacco plantation in Virginia, which her parents had owned but
rarely visited.

New York was the home she had always enjoyed with
them, but she had no other relatives in the States. She was
informed by her parents’ attorney that her inheritance also
included a small estate Grange in Romney Marsh, near Rye, very near
her aunt Jane.

Corrine wrote to her aunt, who immediately sent for
her, and as Corrine had decided she needed family nearby, that was
where she went.

After her arrival at her ancestral home, she
discovered she and her aunt were near neighbors. She was happy to
stay with Aunt Jane and allowed her estate manager to continue to
keep an eye on her Grange home.

She had just turned one and twenty, and her aunt
insisted she accompany her to London so that she could launch her
during the season. Corrine wasn’t sure a season was what she
needed, but she loved Aunt Jane and wanted to please her. And so it
was just after midnight when they pulled up at Waverly House.

Six

BABS PULLED OFF her long white satin gloves and
dropped them onto the central hall’s ornate and rather gothic round
table (a relic of the past and better days), and turned to her
father.

“Papa, as much as I do adore thee and wish to please
thee, we are not living in medieval times,” she teased and planted
a kiss on his cheek. She was hoping to coax him out of his grim
mood.

“Nevertheless, daughters are still expected to honor
their fathers’ decrees … even in these ‘modern’ times.” He
frowned at her.

“Honor their father’s decrees?” Her eyebrow went
up.

“What I meant to say was honor their father’s
wishes,” he snapped.

“And you
wish
for me a loveless
marriage?”

“Gammon, you know better than to play that game with
me, Babs! I wish that you would find a decent man who can make you
happy. I think that man is Sir Charles … and my second choice
is the count. Either one would offer for you if you gave them the
slightest bit of encouragement.”

“Papa, I am so very fond of both of them. They are
my good friends, but …”

“But you do not love them.
Famous.
You lead
them on—”

She actually became so infuriated as to forget
herself and wag a finger at her father. “OH! That is too bad of
you. I do not do anything of the sort.”

Their housekeeper opened the kitchen door and from
the recesses of the nether regions came hurrying out, her plaid
wool wrapper clutched tightly around her full and sturdy frame.
“Lord preserve us … Jed jest ran over here and is waiting in
the kitchen, he is. He said to tell ye that Lady Jane’s coach
intends to put up there after her coachman drops them off here, he
was worrit about it as Master Jack didn’t know a thing about her
coming.”