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A Hint of Seduction Page 8
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“You do have your own enchanting way of remembering things, Miss Reynolds.”
“Is that not the way you remember our encounter yesterday morn?” she asked, suspecting he wouldn’t agree, but knowing she would never admit to having stolen the horse.
“No, fair lady, it is not.”
“Well, I suppose we all do have different ways to remember.”
He nodded. “Did anyone see you riding into the park this morning?” he asked.
“I don’t believe so, but then I didn’t think anyone had seen me riding yesterday, and I was very mistaken about that.”
The earl’s horse nudged his back restlessly, but Lord Chatwin didn’t seem to notice. “Indeed you were. You have caused quite a stir among my friends and foes alike.”
“I hope you believe me when I say that was not my intention.”
“I do and I’m hoping this”—he turned and patted the bridge of his horse’s nose again—“will put a stop to all the gossip.”
From the look on his face he didn’t seem too worried about the gossip, but she said, “I hope so, too. No doubt you were not happy to be the brunt of jokes about a lady riding your horse.”
“Well put, Miss Reynolds. I’ve had my name linked with countesses, princesses, and even Josephine a couple of years back when I traveled through Paris, but this is the first time I’ve been associated with a mysterious lady who rides my gelding as if he were her own.”
She smiled her appreciation at his compliment.
Catherine found Lord Chatwin’s disposition comfortable, and it was easy to flirt with him even though she’d had very few opportunities to develop the skill.
“Perhaps we both have reason to worry about our meeting this morning as well. It would have been easier for us had you simply allowed me to have your horse delivered to your stable.”
“Easy, yes, but what excitement would there have been in doing something as simple as that?”
Excitement. That wasn’t a word that she had used a lot or knew much about.
Could it be that is why she had decided to go against her better judgment and meet him? After living so long in the somber Northern Coast, was it excitement she wanted? Was that part of the reason she wanted to find her real father and confront him and ask him why he deserted her mother when she was carrying his child twenty years ago?
No. She was far too sensible for that. She wanted answers. She wanted to know what made her father deny his responsibilities and not marry her mother. How could she go through life not knowing the answer if there was any possibility that she could find out?
She knew if it became known that she was looking for her real father, she would be branded a bastard, but not even that fear would stop her. And finding that man is what she must concentrate on. Not the thrilling way this attractive man standing before her could make her feel.
“Not excitement to be sure,” she answered with assurance as their gaze met and held once more, “but certainly it would have been much safer for both of us.”
“I’ve never played it safe, Miss Reynolds.”
Catherine’s breaths shortened. “Perhaps that is what attracts me to you, my lord.”
He moved still closer to her. She felt warmth from his body even though he didn’t touch her. His gaze searched hers. His lips were parted and moist, and she found herself wondering what it would feel like to be kissed by him.
“You admit you are attracted to me?”
There was an awareness of him that she hadn’t felt with any other man. When he was near, her heart skipped beats, her chest tightened, and her strong legs suddenly seemed as weak and trembly as a newborn foal.
“Yes,” she said, seeing no reason to deny what he must already know.
“You are brave to do so when your sister acts as if you have no interest in me whatsoever.”
“I can afford to be because that attraction has nothing to do with why I am here. I came only to return your horse.”
A slow, handsome smile eased across his face. “Whichever brought you here, I’m glad you came. I wanted to spend some time with you without the watchful eyes of Mrs. Goosetree and half the ton. I’m glad you felt safe enough with me to come.”
Lord Chatwin’s horse stomped and pawed the ground restlessly, reminding Catherine that she needed to go. She knew she could spend the entire morning talking with him, but she’d already stayed longer than she should have.
Every moment she was with him she was taking a chance of being caught; still she was reluctant.
“But I have no time to converse with you. I must go back before someone in the house realizes I’m gone.”
“What are you doing this afternoon?”
“Why do you ask? Victoria has already explained I’m not free to see you.”
“It’s natural to want to know the name of my competition, don’t you think?”
Catherine’s smile turned into a soft laugh.
“Why does that amuse you?”
“Because, my lord, I have heard all about you.”
“And what exactly does that mean?”
“That I’m afraid your reputation precedes you. You don’t consider that you ever have any competition. From what I’ve heard you have never had any doubts of winning the heart of any lady you so desired.”
“Ah—you heard that about me? Am I really that much of a rogue?”
“Well, perhaps not in those exact words, but that is the impression I was left with. Because you are one of the Terrible Twosome, I have heard many things about you, not the least of which is that you are not interested in making a match.”
“And you are.”
“Of course. It’s what young ladies do.”
“But just because I’m not interested in being leg-shackled at this time does not mean that I’m not attracted to you.”
“I would never believe you have eyes for no one but me. I’ve heard the stories of how many young ladies have thought so in the past only to have their quivering hearts torn from their chests when you gave your attention to another.”
Lord Chatwin gave her a lighthearted shrug. “I’ve enjoyed the attentions of many ladies, but I’ve never made a promise to any of them.”
“And from what I hear, you are not likely to make one any time soon.”
“I suppose your sister would like to see you make a match before the Season is out.”
“She would like that, yes.”
“And what about you?”
“It is what our father wanted—an acceptable match for me, but I don’t see that it necessarily has to happen this year. I’m in no hurry to marry and quite willing to wait another year. Vickie is not.”
“She seems to be doing a good job of watching over you.”
“She has good reason.”
“Because she’s so devoted to you?”
“That, too, but—” Catherine laughed. “But mostly because it benefits her. My—our father decided to make it well worth her while to see to it that she did her best by me.”
“In what way?”
“She receives a generous amount of money once I’ve wed.”
His eyes sparkled mischievously. “That makes it nice for her.”
“Yes, especially because she gets an extra bonus if I marry a titled gentleman and still more if I marry the first year.”
He laughed. “Are you sincere?”
“Quite. Are you worried?”
“Should I be?”
“Perhaps.”
“I’m not.”
“Maybe you should be. It depends on how serious your interest is, but I think Vickie has decided you would make me a fine husband, and she’s determined to match wits with you over the possibilities.”
“I thought as much. I’m up to the challenge and welcome it, but tell me, don’t you have a choice in who you marry?”
“Oh, yes, my father made it clear I have to be in agreement.”
“So she can’t marry you off to someone like the Duke of Wellsgarten, who i
s near eighty if he is a day.”
“Not unless I agree.” Catherine looked behind her. “Now I really must go.” She turned to leave, but Lord Chatwin touched her arm and she glanced back to him.
Their eyes met and held.
“Before you go, I want to—”
He quickly bent down and touched his lips to hers softly, briefly. It was over much too fast. She didn’t have time to savor the exhilarating feel of his warm lips pressed lightly against hers before they were gone and she was looking into his dark eyes once again.
A soft gasp passed her lips and a tingling thrill shot across her breasts and spiraled downward to her stomach.
“Did my kiss frighten you?”
“No, it surprised me.”
“Good. I don’t want to frighten you.”
Without really knowing why she did it, she ran her tongue over her lips and then laughed softly.
“What is it?” he asked, looking confused by her laughter.
“Nothing bad. It’s just that your lips left the taste of apple on mine.”
He grinned. “You caught me. I brought two apples for my horse, but I ended up eating one while I waited for you.”
“I’m sure The General will forgive you.”
“And what about you?” He reached out and softly let her hair glide through his fingers. “Will you forgive me for wanting to kiss you again?”
“I have no fear that you are romantically interested in a lady who would borrow your horse without permission.”
“You assume too much, Miss Reynolds.”
Catherine stared at him, unable to move or even breathe as his hand played with her hair. Was he asking for permission or making a statement? She wasn’t sure, but she found herself giving him a slight nod.
Lord Chatwin let his hand drop to her waist and he slid his arms inside her cape, moving them all the way around her to the small of her back. She allowed him to pull her up close. She had never felt such warmth as the heat that came from his body.
She had been kissed once before much like Lord Chatwin’s first kiss, but she had never been held so protectively in the strong arms of a man. It felt wonderful.
It was exciting.
Yes, this was what excitement meant. That giddy and breathless feeling. This was that feeling of which the poets spoke. And it was heavenly. Amazement at its best, she thought as she leaned into his strong chest and settled her breast against him.
She watched as he bent his head and his face came closer and closer until his lips touched hers again. Warmth slid all the way down her. She savored the sweet taste of apple on his lips. Catherine’s legs went weak again, and she seemed to melt closer to him as his lips moved smoothly, confidently, effortlessly over hers.
This time the kiss lasted longer. He didn’t pull his mouth away from hers. His lips were tender, his teeth occasionally nibbling softly at her lips. She opened her mouth and his tongue darted inside and teased hers.
She felt liquid and limp as he pressed her closer to him. The kiss deepened. Was this what passion felt like? If so, no wonder the poets wrote about it, exploring the subject in great detail. She had never been kissed like this, but it didn’t take long for her to learn how to participate.
Catherine was swept along with the new sensations curling and twirling inside her.
Catherine knew she was taking a risk allowing him this freedom, and as much as she hated to, she pushed away from him. He let her slip from his grasp.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked, his breath ragged.
“No, again I’m surprised. I didn’t expect to find your kisses so pleasurable.”
He smiled softly. “I’m glad I please you.”
“Did you enjoy my kisses?” she asked with some hesitancy.
“Very much so.”
She returned his smile. “I really must go. If I delay longer, the sun will be bright and I will surely get caught slipping back into the house. I can’t let that happen.”
“You’re right. But first, my uncle is having a dinner party tonight. I’ll have an invitation sent over. Do you think you and your sister can come?”
“I believe our schedule is full.”
“Try?”
He picked up her hood and placed it back on her head, pulling it low over her face and stuffing her hair to the back of her shoulders.
Lord Chatwin cupped his hands for her foot so he could lift her onto the saddle. Without looking back at him, she took off, intending to let the mare have her head and gallop out of the park, but she very quickly realized Lord Chatwin was following her at a distance. He rode his gelding and was leading the other horse.
She stopped and turned around and rode back to meet him.
“Why are you following me? Is something wrong?”
“No.”
“Then go some other way. Someone might see you following me.”
Lord Chatwin smiled. “Miss Reynolds, I’ve been following you ever since you left your aunt’s house an hour ago.”
She gasped. “Surely not.”
He smiled. “Of course I have.”
“I would have noticed.”
“I’m very good at what I do.”
That I can’t argue with.
“If you chose to meet me, I wasn’t going to have you riding the streets alone with no protection. What kind of gentleman would I be if I did something like that?”
“The kind I thought you were. But I see now that is not true.”
“I always try to be a gentleman whether or not I succeed.”
“Why did you wait until I got to the park to make yourself known? I could have turned over your horse at any time along the way.”
“Yes, but we wouldn’t have had our kiss, and I don’t know about you, but I am most happy I didn’t miss that.”
Catherine gave him a guilty smile. “You are a charmer, my lord.”
“And you are a beautiful temptress, Miss Reynolds. Now ride fast. You are chasing daylight and you don’t have much time.”
That exciting, thrilling feeling whipped through Catherine again. She smiled at him before turning her horse around and racing out of the park.
Eight
“UP, DEAR GIRL, up! See what a beautiful day it is outside. Spring is here and the birds are singing. Life is beautiful. Up, up.”
Her lids were heavy, but Catherine tried to open her eyes against the glaring streak of sunshine streaming through the window dressings Victoria had just flung open. She didn’t want to wake up. She wanted to think about a handsome man, a warm, strong embrace, and moist kisses that sent shivers of delight from her head to her toes.
Suddenly her eyes popped open.
“I couldn’t let you sleep a moment longer, as we have much to do today.”
Catherine squinted against the strong glare of the sun. “Have I overslept?” she asked groggily, remembering she hadn’t gotten any sleep last night because of her secret, wonderful rendezvous with Lord Chatwin.
“No, no. It’s not late. Now, put your pillows behind you and I’ll get your tray. I have chocolate and toast ready. Madame Parachou is already on her way over to fit you for another gown.”
More gowns? Surely not.
“Sweet mercies, Vickie,” she mumbled, touching her fingertips to her lips as she remembered Lord Chatwin’s kisses and how they made her feel all delicious inside. “I have a room full of gowns I haven’t even worn yet.”
“Oh, you do like to exaggerate. You can’t possibly have more than four or five, maybe six that you haven’t worn.”
That was six more gowns than she needed as far as she was concerned, and she had more than enough day dresses, carriage dresses, walking dresses, not to mention all the gloves, bonnets, and wraps to match.
Victoria stood before her and smiled down at her with her brown eyes sparkling like the finest of gemstones.
“You don’t have plenty. Not anymore. I sent word for Madame Parachou to come at once, and I told her there would be an extra payment for her if she ma
de it here within the hour.”
Catherine had realized when she first arrived in London months ago that there was no point in quarreling with Victoria about clothing. That was one argument Catherine wouldn’t win.
She pulled her nightcap off her head and shook out her long hair, letting it spill over her shoulders. She remembered how her breath had come rapid and deep when Lord Chatwin had cupped her hair in his hands and let its length thread through his fingers as if he were caressing the finest silk.
Still looking quite pleased with herself, Victoria waved a sheet of vellum before Catherine and said, “Guess what arrived very early this morning?”
“I have no idea,” she mumbled as her thoughts drifted back to her meeting with Lord Chatwin a few hours ago. Their kisses, and the pleasure they created inside her, still lingered with her.
She could still feel his strong arms around her. It was unbelievable to her at how warm his body had been and how strong his arms and firm his chest. His lips had been soft and tasted of apple. She moistened her lips, hoping to find the fruity taste still there, but it was gone.
Vickie placed a tray across Catherine’s lap and laid the sheet of vellum on the tray. She looked down at Catherine with a very pleased smile on her face and said, “This is an invitation for us to attend a dinner party at Lord Chatwin’s uncle’s house this evening. Isn’t that wonderful!”
Yes, because she wanted to see Lord Chatwin again. What was she doing thinking about the earl? She needed to concentrate on finding her father.
“I’m glad if you are pleased,” she said, keeping her eyes on the tray of hot chocolate, toast, and cooked figs. She wasn’t sure she should sound interested in Lord Chatwin.
“Of course I’m pleased. I’m ecstatic! I can’t believe how well your first week is going.” Victoria walked away from the bed and over to Catherine’s dressing table and sat down on the stool.
She looked at Catherine in the looking glass. “I always suspected I had very good matchmaking skills and this proves it. And it’s quite enjoyable. I might hire myself out to make matches for other young ladies.”
“Would you really want to do that, Vickie?”