Seduction Regency Style

by Louisa Cornell

  That first kiss had evolved into a series of tastes and touches which had nearly driven her mad. Claire had felt his arousal against her. And…she’d hungered for him.

  But he’d denied them both.

  So, none of this made any sense, at all. If Ethan was lying to her, she’d rip his billy goat ears right off that gigantic head of his.

  But if he wasn’t… A strangled gurgle tore up her throat.

  “I’ll ask Amy.” She lifted her chin. This wouldn’t be the first time Ethan had tried to manage her life.

  “Go right ahead.” That devious look in his eyes hadn’t disappeared yet.

  Claire swept out the door and down the foyer. She’d learn the truth before making any rash decisions. Because leaving with Ethan would be rash, indeed. Even if she didn’t have a choice in the matter.

  ****

  “You did what?” Clemson’s fists slammed down on the desk and his face contorted in rage. “Why on earth would you do something like that? What aren’t you telling me?”

  Knowing his brother’s temper, Ben poured them both a few fingers of scotch and handed one of the glasses over. “Couldn’t help myself,” he told his confounded looking brother in a matter-of-fact manner.

  “You couldn’t…? You…?” Clem shook his head in disbelief.

  Ben fully understood his brother’s confusion. Because he, Ben, had always been the self-disciplined, levelheaded brother. Clemson was the impulsive, reckless one.

  “The chit has ruined me for all others.” Ben tossed back the entirety of his drink. When he’d first made the decision to leave Fairchild’s estate, he’d thought it best to do so without delay. As he’d ridden, regret and foreboding both niggled at him.

  He should have explained his departure to Claire himself. He ought not to have trusted her brother to convey the nature of his journey.

  Although, Fairchild knew the truth of it. Likely, his daughter would, as well.

  Still.

  He ought to have discussed it with her. He should have made a point to bid her farewell. Already, his arms ached for her.

  He’d done the honorable thing and now his body plagued him with regret. As did his mind.

  She’d been willing and more than enthusiastic. His hands, his lips, he knew, had awakened sexual desire in her.

  Such a sweet innocent. And yet Ben had denied himself. Despite this scheme he’d come up with in order to force her brother’s hand, in truth, he was unwilling to take advantage of her. He wanted to wait to make love to her. Doing otherwise, without knowing she fell under his protection, would place her in danger.

  When he’d become such a bastion of goodness and morality, he couldn’t say. He only knew that Margaret Claire Dorrill deserved to be afforded the same respect as that bestowed upon the highest ranking duchess in all the land.

  He’d relied upon all his self-control, clenched his teeth, and insisted upon sleeping on the floor. Not that he’d slept much, if at all. He’d tossed and turned, even been tempted to relieve his frustrations himself, but hadn’t wanted to wake her.

  What response would she have had to that?

  He couldn’t think of that. The thought of her eyes on him…

  “You want to marry her?” Clemson’s words broke into Ben’s thoughts. “When did you say you met the gel?”

  Ben laughed ironically at himself. “I’ve barely known her two days.”

  Clem’s brows rose in surprise.

  “I know. I know.” It seemed insane. The notion that he already knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life getting to know her. The notion that he already knew he wanted her to be the mother of his children. “It’s insane, but I just know.”

  “Hm.” His brother just stared at him. “Ethan Dorrill won’t make this easy for you. Even with your ruining her.”

  “I didn’t ruin her.” Ben wouldn’t hide the truth from Clem. “I only made it appear as though I did.” He went on to explain the nuances of his plan. “But Dorrill still opposes it. He’d rather his sister be sent away to live in obscurity than marry a Peabody. That’s why I need you.”

  “I know what you’re thinking, and I can promise you he won’t be willing to make any agreements with us. Despite the savings we’d both achieve with economies of scale.”

  “Fairchild has agreed to intervene.”

  Clem sighed deeply. “Can’t hurt to try. Not every day that your baby brother falls in love.”

  Falls in love…

  Ben hadn’t thought in terms of that word but… He supposed that was what had happened.

  He’d fallen in love.

  Chapter Ten

  Betrayed

  “So, he has truly departed?” Claire had finally located Amy in the garden.

  Amy nodded and Claire hated feeling the pity emanating from her friend. “Mother disapproved. She’ll be speaking to father, I promise. I cannot imagine why my father allowed him to get away after…” She frowned sympathetically. “Oh, Claire. What will you do?”

  Claire blinked away the tears threatening to well up and overflow. Ethan had been correct. The blasted Peabodys were nothing but lying, bottom feeding swindlers and cheats.

  He’d lied.

  He’d promised they’d become betrothed. Had he simply changed his mind? Had she, Claire, done something to alter his opinion of her? She wished she understood.

  He’d reassured her with his eyes before leaving her chamber that morning. Love had shown from those brilliant blue eyes of his.

  Why had he changed his mind?

  “I suppose I’ll have to leave with Ethan.” But Mrs. Fairchild had witnessed a man in her bedchamber. And Mrs. Fairchild was one of the worst gossips she knew. “I don’t suppose your mother has kept all of this to herself?”

  Amy dropped her lashes. “Mama was with the Gibson sisters when she confirmed that he left. They all have quite strong opinions on the matter.”

  So Claire truly had been ruined.

  And then a horrifying thought struck.

  He’d done it to hurt her brother! To hurt Ethan’s reputation and business prospects.

  Benjamin Peabody had used her to hurt her brother. “He used me, Amy!” Claire’s hand covered her mouth to prevent a sob from breaking free. “He used me to hurt Ethan.”

  The sobs escaped anyhow.

  “I didn’t think he would ever do something like that.” Amy held Claire through her sobs. “I really did not. He’s always seemed such an affable sort. If it’s any consolation, I would have fallen for him, too.”

  “I’m such a fool! Such a stupid, gullible fool!” He didn’t love her. He hadn’t even wanted to lie with her. He’d only wanted to ruin her! “Oh, God!”

  “Miss Claire,” Dolores’s voice reached her from several yards away.

  Claire stepped away from Amy and wiped at her eyes. She’d save her blathering for later.

  “Mr. Ethan wishes to depart soon. I’ve packed most of your belongings, but wondered if you wished to change into a gown more suitable for travel.”

  Claire glanced down at her gown. She’d wanted to appear pretty for Benjamin. She’d worn something special for the occasion of her marriage proposal.

  Suddenly, she never wanted to see this gown again. She wanted to burn it. And she wanted nothing more than to go far, far away. Away from these people who would not only believe her to be foolish but also fast. A scandal was certain to blow up.

  “I’m sorry if any of this affects you, Amy.” The consequences of what she’d done could possibly harm her friend by association. Acquaintances and friends would not be so forgiving of a young woman who gave her virtue so easily.

  “Bah.” Amy waved one hand in the air, but Claire also saw concern behind her eyes.

  Yes, it was best to depart as soon as possible. “You’ll let me know?”

  “I’ll write you every day. You’ll be annoyed at the enthusiasm of my correspondence. Will you be in London?”

  Claire sighed. “Perhaps. I’m sure my brother will forwa
rd your letters if I am not.”

  The two girls embraced and then Claire made haste back to her chamber.

  Only when they were on the road did Claire give in to tears again. It didn’t help when Ethan pointed at her sternly with the obnoxious comment that he’d told her so… Blasted brothers!

  ****

  Clemson and Ben set off for Elysium Fields early the next morning. Of course, it would rain. Buckets and buckets. Dogs, cats…all sorts of mammals came tumbling out of the English clouds.

  Clem wanted to delay their departure, but Ben was feeling an urgency to get back to Claire.

  He’d never had feelings for a woman that remotely resembled the tumult now tearing around inside.

  Had he imagined her feelings for him? Would Ethan Dorrill easily dissuade her from marrying him? At the same time, he anticipated holding her in his arms, feeling her soft curves along the length of his body. Tasting her. Kissing her.

  They’d marry soon. He didn’t want a long betrothal. There was no reason for one, really. He knew. She knew.

  But did she? The doubts intervened quickly enough, his thoughts traveling in an endless spiral of angst.

  In addition, a cold fear pressed against his heart. Fear that she would not be there when he returned. In Ben’s enthusiasm to smooth the way for this alliance, he’d trusted Ethan Dorrill to wait three days before giving him a final decision.

  Ben hadn’t been overly bothered at the possibility that Dorrill would remain stubborn. He’d simply surmised that if her brother refused to give his permission, he’d run her up to Gretna Green.

  But as Ben rode the long highway with his brother silently plodding along beside him, he ran through that last discussion he’d had with her brother over and over again.

  Had Ethan Dorrill promised to stay at Elysium Fields for three days? Or had Ben merely heard what he wanted to hear? Had he attributed his own wishes to those of that bastard?

  As lightning struck and thunder raged, Ben could not for the life of him recall Dorrill, in fact, declaring that he would not take Claire away before Ben returned.

  She had to be there.

  The thought of her not being there gave him chills. Because Dorrill could hide her away anywhere.

  At this thought, Ben wanted to urge his mount into a gallop, but he knew better. The muddied road became dangerous for horses in conditions such as this. Besides, they couldn’t run indefinitely. He’d merely wear the poor beast out.

  The miles passed slowly, and they didn’t arrive until after dark.

  ****

  “What do you mean they’ve left?” Ben ran his hand through his hair. Clemson reached out a hand to clasp Fairchild’s in a friendly greeting.

  “Good to see you, sir. It’s been too long.”

  “Clem, my boy. It has at that. How’s that new pulley device performing for you? Been meaning to ask after it…”

  Business! Ben was ready to pull his hair out. “With all due respect, sir, did they return to London? Did she go willingly? God damn that bloody bastard to hell. I should have known. Serves me right for trusting him.”

  Fairchild settled his spectacles upon his nose and nodded solemnly. “I’m to inform you that Miss Dorrill has had a change of heart. She was mistaken in her affection for you. Realizes what a dreadful error it all was.”

  No. Ben refused to believe it. Why would she leave? Why would she not await his return? “They’d rather her be ruined than accept my suit?” It made no sense.

  Fairchild’s lips were pursed. He grimaced. “Ethan Dorrill is one of the most stubborn men I’ve ever known. The two of you ought to know this by now. And obviously, he’s a great deal of influence upon his sister.” He then shrugged matter-of-factly. “Rather messy situation anyhow. Can’t you find a gel who isn’t sister to a man who hates you with the passion of a thousand wars? Why don’t you offer for my Amy?”

  “Papa!” The lady herself stepped out from behind some drapes where she’d been hiding. “I cannot believe you would say something like that! And Ben? Why on earth did you leave if you still wished to marry her? She believed it was you who changed your mind! She’s devastated. Left drowning in her own tears.”

  “I went to summon my brother. I wanted to work something out with Dorrill…” Ben glanced at Fairchild. He’d been certain this man would provide some assistance to him.

  Again, Mr. Fairchild shrugged. “Nobody is going to change Ethan Dorrill’s mind when it comes to business. And whether you appreciate the matter or not, his sister represents a great deal of business.”

  “But she’s ruined now.” This from Amy.

  “I know that. And she knows that,” Fairchild admitted. “But Ethan Dorrill believes the right amount of money can still land her a titled husband. He’s more determined than ever. His best chances are if he can extract a promise from one of them before wind of Miss Dorrill’s improprieties catch up with her in London.”

  “So, she could be betrothed to one of them already.” Clem addressed the issue for the first time. “Knowing the bastard, he’ll do whatever it takes.” His expression was pained when he met Ben’s eyes. “You need to head down there tomorrow if you’re to have any hope at all.”

  Ben ached through to the bones, every muscle protesting the long days of riding to which he’d subjected them. A chill ran through him at the prospect of again sitting atop a horse in the rain.

  Even worse was the fear of losing her forever. He turned to Fairchild with a fierce determination. “Do you have a fresh mount I might take?”

  “It’s dark, Ben. You should wait,” his brother spoke sternly.

  “I cannot afford to wait.”

  “Of course, of course, my friend.” Mr. Fairchild showed no reluctance. “I’ll have one prepared for you immediately.”

  “Do you have a death wish?” Clemson was not happy with the turn of events. “Being in love has turned you into a blathering idiot.”

  “I think it’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever witnessed,” Amy Fairchild declared with a breathy sigh.

  “So was Romeo and Juliet,” Clem pointed out. “And look at how that ended.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Limited Prospects

  “After reconsidering his prior opinion, Lord Pringle would like to meet with you in my study.”

  Claire wrinkled her brow and attempted to verify that the words she thought had just been uttered by her imbecilic brother were, in fact, the words her brain was telling her.

  They’d been back in London less than two days, and she’d spent most of her time holed up in her bedchamber feeling sorry for herself. She had no desire to go shopping, for ices at Gunters or anywhere else where she might possibly be recognized.

  Amy Fairchild’s mother’s letters had surely arrived in London by now.

  A dismal storm had set in, anyhow, resembling her mood in a most uncanny manner. As soon as the clouds lifted, Claire had every intention of making her way down to Aunt Lucy’s house.

  She’d allow the scandal to play out without her.

  She didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything. How could she hurt so much over missing a person who’d never really existed? A person who’d fooled her? Who’d toyed with her emotions so callously?

  “Lord Pringle… What?” she nearly stuttered at the unlikelihood of what she thought her brother was telling her.

  “He’s awaiting you downstairs. He wants to offer for you.”

  After staring into Ethan’s eyes for all of thirty seconds and coming to the realization that he was quite serious, Claire began shaking her head side to side. “No. No. No. No.” She stumbled to her bed and dramatically threw her body face down into the mattress. This wasn’t happening.

  She did not wish to listen to Lord Pringle’s proposal. Good lord, he’d been bad enough when he’d not been willing to ask for her. What kind of favors would he expect from her as his betrothed? The thought was enough to make her want to vomit.

  “Claire, haven’t you been contrar
y enough over the past few weeks without now denying me this one small thing?”

  One.

  Small.

  Thing?

  Was he bamming her? “Ethan!” She rolled over in exasperation. “We’re talking about my life here. If you like Lord Pringle so very much, then why don’t you marry him?”

  The look in his eyes told her he did not take kindly to her joke.

  She didn’t care.

  “You may be my brother. And I adore you. You know that—other than moments like this when you are attempting to arrange my life to suit your needs—but I absolutely refuse to marry somebody so that you can attract wealthy investors. I”—she slapped her hands onto the mattress—“refuse.”

  “You are serious.” He regarded her with his hands on his hips.

  They’d faced off like this only once or twice in their lifetimes. She had told him a thousand times that she didn’t wish to marry for the sake of becoming a member of the aristocracy, and he was finally going to have to accept it.

  “I am serious.”

  “I ought to send you to a convent somewhere.”

  “If only we were Catholic,” she shot back at him.

  “But you’ve gone and ruined yourself,” he reminded her. “This may very well be your only opportunity.”

  “I understand that.” In this moment, she thought she’d be quite happy to never lay eyes on another man again.

  They were pestilence and the plague wrapped up into tidy handsome masculine packages. They could all go to Hades for all she cared.

  “You cannot remain here in London with me,” he pointed out.

  Ah, at last!

  “Again. I understand perfectly.”

  “Damn it, Claire!”

  At which point, she smiled for the first time in three days. “I’ll tell Aunt Lucy you bid her hello.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Shoddy Workmanship

  The following day, the sun made its reappearance and Claire and Dolores set off in a brand new traveling coach, which Ethan had purchased to replace the one languishing in a carriage shop near Elysian Fields awaiting repairs.