“Marquess Noah Wildeburg.”
“The elusive Wildeburg danced with me? He never dances with anybody.”
“Well it seems you charmed him from afar this evening.”
This kept getting better and better. Absolutely perfect. She never imagined she could lure a rake like Wildeburg into her experiment. The data she collected from him would support her hypothesis. Now all she needed to do was to hold his interest, which shouldn’t be too hard. She could tell he held an attraction to her, and she would use her allure to draw him in. Wait until Phee heard she danced with Noah Wildeburg. Wildeburg never danced, let alone talked, to the debutantes of the ton. Sure, there was the gossip of his pursuits as he chased a few. However, their families covered the relationships with engagements to other gentlemen or sent them far away to live with relatives. He preferred married women or widows. Rumors whispered in private spoke of him keeping two to three mistresses at a time, as his lust was ravenous. Sidney felt warm as she remembered his arms around her.
Rory watched the blush spread across Sidney’s face and realized she had fallen for the scoundrel. He needed to put a stop to whatever her plans were. Wildeburg would ruin her in a heartbeat and walk away without a second glance. He owed it to the Hartridge’s to keep Sidney out of trouble.
“Promise me you will stay clear of him, Sid.”
“I can make no promises, Rory. If a gentleman requests a dance from me, it would be rude of me not to accept. You know I cannot risk offending anybody. The damage would fall on Papa.”
Rory scowled, but she was correct. While her father held counsel for the Crown, they could wipe away his rank if anybody in his family offended the wrong peer of the aristocracy. And Wildeburg would be just the bloke to seek revenge. He was as wild as his name suggested. No gentleman or lady were safe from his charms, but if he withdrew his charms, then you had better hide. Sidney played with fire, and she was too innocent to know better.
“Then at least promise me you will be careful around Wildeburg and Sheffield.”
“I promise, Rory. When did you become so protective?”
“When you started styling your hair and dressing like a princess.”
Rory’s compliment caused Sidney to blush again. It was the nicest thing he had ever said to her. He usually called her a brat and treated her like a kid sister. Now here he danced with her at a ball and called her a princess. Tonight was full of surprises. She didn’t know how to respond to his kindness, so she dipped her head and stared at their feet as they finished their dance. Rory returned her to her parents, where he gave her a final look. Sidney didn’t quite understand his stare. If she was more experienced, she would have thought it held a look of desire. When she tilted her head at him in question, he smiled wistfully before he left.
Phee came to stand at her side, waiting for Sidney to respond about her dance with Rory. Sidney remained at a loss at what to share with her. Oh, she had much to share, but she had no clue where to start. Plus, the crowded ballroom wasn’t the place to discuss her research.
“Meet me at the park tomorrow. I have much I need to tell you.”
“Are you all right, Sid? You seem lost.”
Sidney turned to her friend, grabbing her hand, “Yes, dear. I am only processing all the data I have collected this evening.”
“Have you changed your mind?”
Sidney laughed. “No, my mind is more determined than ever.”
Phee watched the gleam in Sidney’s eyes. When Sidney behaved in this manner, there would be no way of ever talking her out of the trouble she would surely get herself into. Maybe after Sid slept on this, she would change her mind. Oh, who was she fooling? The events from this evening had only set Sidney’s mind in stone. She would have to make sure Sid avoided a scandal. Phee promised she would meet Sidney in the park in the morning and spoke her farewell.
As her friend walked out of the ballroom with her parents, Sidney turned to hers and asked if they could retire for the evening. She pleaded sore feet and exhaustion from dancing as her reason. It thrilled them that she’d had a successful evening, so they agreed. Her mother suggested she should get her rest because she was positive their receiving room would be full of potential suitors tomorrow. She inwardly groaned and hoped her mother’s prediction would be false. Courting was the last thing she had time for, but she knew that she must take part in the age-old ritual for her project to be a success. If Sidney admitted the truth, part of her held a little curiosity on how many gentlemen would call on her tomorrow afternoon.
Chapter Three
Wilde lounged in the comfort of Sheffield’s carriage. His friend knew how to surround himself with the luxuries of life. There was nothing the duke deprived himself. His every desire was catered to. Sheffield had to hold himself at the highest esteem and appear to the ton that the very best in life was within his grasp. If not, his peers would tear him apart. Wilde was grateful he didn’t have to hold himself to such a high example. Of course, he must keep up appearances, but nothing as grand as Sheffield. He rubbed his hand across the leather side, back and forth and he contemplated if he should inquire after the young miss. If he asked, he risked offending him if Sheffield considered her his future bride. Wilde knew his curiosity confused him, but the need to know overrode his common sense.
“Will you at least inform me of her name?”
“What, in the time you spent in her company you didn’t inquire for yourself?”
“No, an attraction wrapped us in an embrace, and we were unable to swap names with one another.” Wilde decided the hell with angering him. The game was on. He recognized possessive behavior when he saw it, and Sheffield held an interest in the chit. He watched him come to attention at the word “attraction.”
“Keep away from her, Noah. She isn’t your usual conquest.”
“That is what makes her so interesting. She holds a certain charm I find desirable.”
“Well you won’t get the chance to taste her charm.”
“So sure of yourself, are you?”
Sheffield looked at his fingernails, pretending boredom at Wilde’s conversation, but he was anything but bored. He was at a crossroads. If he showed too much interest in the young lady, then Wilde would pounce on her. However, if he showed no interest at all, then Wilde would still pursue her. If he played against Wilde, he fought a losing battle. He would have to advance his game with Sidney Hartridge by impressing her before Wilde sank his charm into her and ruined her for any other man.
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I am. However, I am a fair man in the game of love. I will give you her name on one condition.”
“Who said anything about love? I only wanted the chit’s name for curiosity’s sake, not to marry her. Good god, man, just forget it.”
Sheffield smiled to himself at his strategic wording. He knew if he mentioned the word love, Wilde would run in the opposite direction. Nothing scared him more than love and marriage, which kept the young ladies of the ton safe. Wilde was a scoundrel of the worst order, and he would make a horrible husband with his gambling, drinking, and whoring. Yes, he would do Lady Sidney a favor and discourage Wilde from any interest in her. She would thank him later for this.
“Where do you want me to drop you off tonight? The usual spot?” Sheffield inquired.
“Yes, why not. A man needs to enjoy himself with some kind of pleasure before he calls it a night,” Wilde replied.
Sheffield tapped his walking stick to the roof and sent a code to his driver. They rode the remaining journey in silence while Sheffield watched for any sign of Wilde to change his mind. Wilde only stared out the window into the darkness as they made their way to Madame Bellerose. When the carriage arrived, Wilde jumped out and waited for Sheffield to join him. When he didn’t, Wilde stuck his head back inside the door.
“Not going to join me tonight, old chap?”
“No, I’m afraid now that I have made my decision to find a bride, I will no longer be visiting these establishments. I wou
ld hate to bring disgrace to any lady in my immediate acquaintance.”
“Very proper of you, Sheffield. I guess more fun for me. I will convey Belle your regards. She will be most disappointed with your absence. You are her favorite.”
Sheffield nodded his head to Wilde. “Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
Wilde nodded his head back, then turned to enter the establishment hidden in the shadows. To any other observer, the townhome was a quiet house tucked into the corner of a respected area of Covent Garden. While the Gardens were known to host many houses of ill repute, this house hid the underbelly of the dark society of London. Only the elitist of the ton held knowledge of Madame Bellerose. To be allowed entry, a member of the club must sponsor your entrance. Wilde gained his access through Sheffield.
Upon reaching the door, he gave the secret knock to gain access to the pleasures of sin. Madame Bellerose only hired the most elegant women to satisfy her clientele. All the girls were required regular physician exams paid for by the Madame. Her girls never carried diseases or became pregnant. If they did, Belle removed them from service. Then she would make the gentlemen who ruined them provide money for the girl to move and to set her up for the rest of her life. This was not your normal brothel, nor were the girls your normal prostitutes. They were skilled at the highest levels of experience. The acts they could do with their mouths and hands made even Wilde blush.
As he handed off his hat and cane to the doorman, Belle glided along the hallway to greet him. She was grace and naughty wrapped tightly in a creation of red. The red dress hugged her figure and displayed her charms to perfection. Her breasts poured out of her gown, enough to tease a gentleman toward temptation with no imagination needed. The rest of her body spilled into her gown and displayed her generous curves. While many gentlemen wished to sample the charms of Madame Bellerose, her private services were not for sale. Oh, many men had tried, but they were removed from her club. She made an exception for Wilde though, but he only got to taste, never the full course. On many nights, they talked late into the night over a few glasses of wine. He would then charm her into a few kisses and light petting. But she would soon call a halt and send him off with her favorite girl for the night. Belle wasn’t a conquest of his, but a very good friend. Maybe she could help him forget about the lovely lady he’d met earlier that evening.
“Oh, my darling Wilde. I am ecstatic to see a friendly face this evening. Are you alone, or will Sheffield be joining you?” she inquired as she wrapped her arm though his and pressed her body against him. Her breasts brushed across his arm.
“I am sorry to say Belle, that Sheffield will not be joining us this evening or any evening in the future. He sends his regards.”
Belle stopped them in their tracks as her mouth hung open in surprise. He chuckled and tipped her mouth closed. The shock apparent on her face swiftly turned to disappointment, and then to sadness. He guided her into her private parlor and closed the door behind them. He settled her on the couch and continued to her liquor cart. Wilde poured them both a generous glass of whiskey and sat next to her. He pressed the glass in her hand and clinked their glasses.
“Here’s to friends and their demise, taking the dreaded steps toward holy matrimony.” Wilde drank the liquid in one swallow.
“Do I hear a sense of envy in your sarcasm?” Belle asked as she sipped her whiskey.
“Me, envious of Sheffield’s decision to marry?” he laughed. “Never.”
Belle lounged on the sofa as she watched Wilde refill his glass. He quickly drank another glass, then filled it again. This time he took a sip as he wandered back to her. She decided he protested too much. When he rested next to her, she laid her head on his shoulder. Her fingers lightly caressed his thigh, and she felt him relax against her. It would go no further than this. She knew she was safe with Wilde. Safe from being violated. Safe from being pressured. Secure in herself. When she was lonely for the touch of a man, Wilde was her choice for companionship. His sweet kisses and the stroke of his fingers on her soul always settled her. Tonight, she would have to soothe his soul. She could tell something troubled him and would have to coax it from him with gentle persuasion.
“So, which lady has caught Sheffield’s attention?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know? You are his closest friend. Did he not confide in you?”
“He hasn’t chosen yet, but he has set his eyes on a sweet new debutante.”
“Who is she?”
“That I do not know, my dear. He refuses to provide me with her name.”
Belle laughed. Of course, Sheffield was no dummy. He understood if he gave Wilde the name, he would lose. Wilde would charm the girl and leave Sheffield in the cold. The lady’s gaze would never stray from Wilde. She must be special to draw the attention of these two gentlemen. But Sheffield was a fool and would lose either way. By not telling Wilde her name, it only drew out his intrigue. To win this lady’s hand would be the chase of the season; but which gentleman would be the victor? While Sheffield presented himself as the most logical choice for any lady, her money was on Wilde. No lady had ever drawn the interest of this man to this degree. Belle recognized Wilde’s curiosity toward this enigma of a woman.
“Why would he do that?”
“It does not matter; my hat is not in the race. She is welcome to Sheffield.”
Wilde listened to the denial as it left his mouth and knew it was a lie. He wanted his hat in the race and realized it was pointless. She was not his usual flavor, and in the end, he didn’t want the parson’s noose around his neck. He knew he would only ruin her. However, as he sat there, he recalled their dance and the sensation of holding her in his arms. She was light as a feather, and her touch quickened his heartbeat. He shook his head. This was stupid. Sappy stupid. Any girl in this house could make his heart beat fast, among other things. She would be forgotten soon and never remembered again. Already the feel of Belle’s touch on his thigh made him hard. He leaned back and closed his eyes as he allowed her touch to soothe him. He moaned as her hand slid higher. The picture of blue eyes gazing into his eyes while her fingers trembled as she—
He sat forward fast and his drink spilled across the front of his pants. Belle released a little yelp as he drenched her hand in liquor. She pulled her hand back and scooted away from the mess. Wilde uttered a string of curses as he reached into his pocket to pull out a handkerchief. He set the now empty glass on the table and reached for Belle’s hand. He gently wiped her fingers and brought her hand to his lips for a kiss. The hand did not tremble, nor did he feel the spark he had felt earlier. He placed his lips to her smooth skin.
“I am sorry for my clumsiness, my dear.”
Belle reached with her other hand and enclosed it around his. She witnessed the troubled look in his eyes and realized the young lady, whoever she may be, had already affected him more than he would allow himself to believe.
“I think you protest too much; the miss has affected you more than you realize.”
“Nonsense. What do you say, will you allow me to enter your boudoir this evening?”
Belle released a husky laugh. What she wouldn’t do to have Wilde in her bed. But she couldn’t betray her love with another, no matter how much she desired him. It was best to allow him Eve for the evening and let him unleash his charm on another—before she decided to give into the temptation of his kisses.
Belle rose from the sofa and swayed to the door as she smiled at him over her shoulder. She winked at him as she opened the door. She whispered quietly to her doorman, then closed the door and waited. Wilde jumped to his feet to follow and stopped in front of her. Belle could tell he was eager with excitement; however, she would have to disappoint him. She placed her hands on his chest and then rose one hand to brush his hair away from his face.
“I am sorry, Wilde, but the answer is still no. Ned will escort you to Eve tonight. She is waiting for you now. When you are ready, I am available to talk. I
might even be able to help you with your young miss.”
Wilde laughed. “She is not my young miss, nor will she be. I thank you for your attention this evening. Now, I am off to enjoy the delectable Eve. Take care, Belle.”
Belle stepped back as Wilde strolled up the stairs to Eve’s room. She watched as he sauntered down the hall and charmed the other girls as they stood in their doorways. He paid attention to all of them and did not favor one over the other. This action alone was why they all loved him the most. It was a shame. She not only lost one customer tonight, but two.
Wilde realized why Belle wouldn’t allow him to enter her bedroom. He only teased, but still it wasn’t very nice of him. He understood the reason why she always declined his offers. Her heart belonged to another. It wasn’t fair to her, but it was a life she decided to live. His thoughts turned from Belle to Eve as he opened the door to the room. Eve lounged on her divan, wearing nothing but sin. Her robe was transparent in the firelight and left nothing for his imagination. Her wild, sexy, long blonde hair tumbled around her shoulders in disarray. Eve’s painted lips pouted at him and begged for his lips to kiss hers.
“I have been waiting all night for you, Wilde,” Eve whined.
“I am sorry, baby. I had obligations to attend,” Wilde explained as he shut the door.
Once inside, he undid his cravat and unbuttoned his shirt. He walked over to her and stroked his finger along the opening of her robe, touching her warm skin. When he reached the knot, his fingers dissolved the string and drew her robe apart. A sensuous woman lay before him, full breasts and curves any man would want to sample. He paused. One would think he stared at how gorgeous Eve looked, but the only vision that flashed before his eyes was of another. What would she look like spread out before him like this? Her innocence would only be an added attraction. Damn.
Wilde closed Eve’s robe and walked over to the chair where he threw his coat and cravat. He slid on his coat and put his tie in his pocket. He raked his hands through his hair and released a huge sigh. Belle was correct; he did want the chit. It was fifty different ways wrong, but it all felt so right. But for now, he needed to turn around and soothe Eve’s feelings. He couldn’t go through with this. It would not be fair to his conquest if he weren’t truly honorable to her. For he realized Sheffield would be, as well as any other gent who courted her. Oh, he didn’t imagine happily ever after with her, but a little fun along the way never hurt anybody.
Whom Shall I Kiss... an Earl, a Marquess, or a Duke? Page 3