Peregrine wiped at the sweat trickling down one temple. “Indeed.” Then he couldn’t resist teasing her. “I’ll wager this particular game was never intended as such a contact sport.”
Rosy color stained her cheeks. Embarrassment or from the sun? “A lady will do anything to ensure the attention of a gentleman.”
“Ah, so then you believe my focus has wavered from you?” How could it, when she haunted his every thought, flitted through his restless dreams?
“I should hope not.” She patted an escaped tendril of black hair into place. “Later, a bunch of us have plans to play Bowls. Perhaps you and Jensen will join us?”
“Perhaps.” It all depended on how his damn leg felt. Even at leisure activities, he failed. It would seem the world wasn’t fitted for a disabled military veteran.
“Then perhaps I shall compete against you later.”
“Or you might try supporting my side and we can vanquish an opponent together,” he said in a soft voice.
“Intriguing thought.” Surprise flickered through her bewitching eyes. She nodded, then she sauntered away, and the roll of her hips called his attention to her curves and how the turquoise gown showed them to advantage.
Having no reason to linger, Peregrine strolled the lawn, going in the opposite direction of the bevy of activity and people still engaged in the games. He’d done entirely too much socializing in the last handful of days, yet the thought of going home to collapse in his favorite chair didn’t appeal, for that would mean leaving Isabella and missing out on meeting her in the maze.
Damn, what has happened to me?
Eventually, Jensen joined him. “You’re a wreck,” the valet announced as he held out a flute of champagne.
“This is supposed to quench my thirst?” But he drank the bubbly liquid down nonetheless, for his throat was parched. Englishmen at leisure were certainly different than life on his ship. Where was the plain water that a man could drink with abandon until his thirst was satisfied? Where were the bouts of fisticuffs that showed a man’s prowess? Where were the rough and tumble activities that stretched not only muscles but the mind or the freedom to remove jackets and shirts when one grew overheated or a quick dip into the sea if the heat grew unbearable?
Jensen drained his own flute. “Do you wish to make a go of it in a game of Bowls? I overheard some of the ladies talking about it.”
“Isabella mentioned it as well.” Peregrine met his friend’s gaze. “What the devil is it? I’m not familiar with such a thing.”
“From what I understand, you throw a ball along the lawn, trying to get it as close to a small white ball—or jack. There is a system of points as well, but I moved out of range before it was explained.” Jensen shrugged. “It’s quite an absurd way to pass the time.”
“Agreed, and it sounds incredibly dull, so I’ll pass.”
“So will I.”
They both shared a laugh and gave their empty glasses to a passing servant with a silver tray full of similar flutes.
“Go ahead, Jensen. I know you want to join in. Have a few of the ladies caught your eye?”
The valet snorted. “That is not my objective today.”
“Oh? What is?”
“Making certain you won’t be hurt.”
Peregrine sobered. “You think Isabella is playing fast and loose?”
“No. There is obvious chemistry between the two of you.” Jensen’s expression didn’t give much away. “However, I still remain vigilant. I have my reasons.”
“The old debt.” It wasn’t a question.
“Perhaps. And friendship.”
He clapped his free hand on Jensen’s shoulder. “Go indulge in a game, old friend. I shall fair well and with a healthy degree of wariness. Never fear.”
“And you?”
Peregrine allowed himself an indulgent grin as he followed Isabella’s progress through the milling crowds. The woman walked into a copse of trees with a young man. It was only too obvious she had designs on him, and his chest tightened. He had no right to her time, yet there was the emotion, closely akin to jealousy anyway. “I have a different game in mind.”
Jensen nodded and followed his gaze. “Good fortune to you then.”
“Fortune.” He grunted. The words of his fortune flashed into his mind. There is a woman in your future who possesses a fierce spirit… She had that in spades, but was she part of his future? From her own admission, she wasn’t husband hunting, and he was loath to go down the marriage path again.
Where did that leave them?
“The lady is spirited, I’ll give you that, and she might be as difficult to catch as pinning a cloud to the ground.”
This time, Peregrine grinned. “That is part of the challenge.” And here they were, chasing each other in a game and he had no idea where it would end. Damnation. I’m a bacon-brained idiot. “I’d best get after it.” There was something to be said for idiocy, after all.
“Happy hunting.”
With a nod to Jensen, he went off in pursuit… or rather he was reeled into her spider’s web, an unsuspecting fly. Did it matter?
No, it does not.
He came upon Isabella just as she shared a kiss with the young pup. Sharp jealousy speared through him. Immediately, his mind went to his failed marriage and how his wife had thrown him over for another. The jealousy faded in the face of cold disappointment. I thought Isabella might have been different. He cleared his throat and tightened his fingers around the silver head of his cane. “Am I interrupting?”
The two of them shot apart, but the lady’s smile was sly. Her eyes twinkled with a knowing light as she turned to him. “Absolutely not. If we didn’t wish for discovery, we would have hidden better.”
“Uh, but you said no one would see us here,” the young man said with a slight trace of panic in his tone.
What game did she play, and why? When the pup lingered, Peregrine took a step toward him, making sure his bearing conveyed intimidation. “Have you anything to say for yourself?”
“No.” With a series of murmured apologies, the man dashed from the copse of trees.
Peregrine turned his attention to the lady, who watched the proceedings with high amusement. “You did that on purpose.” If she had, why? She had no guarantee that he’d seek her out at just this moment.
“Did I?” She moved a few steps deeper into the cover of trees. “I rather think I took advantage of an opportunity.”
“And I rather think you are more intelligent than that.” Perhaps it was sheer folly, but he followed her and made certain he was in sight of the party at all times. It wouldn’t do to land himself in a scandal that led to a forced leg-shackling. That would be akin to cornering himself naked with a wild cat. “Why did you lure that man here? Do you have an interest in him?”
“Tsk, tsk, Captain. Never say you care about my reputation.”
“I do, only insofar as it means you’re playing a dangerous game. For now, I’m in the same spot with the same potential for gossip. Again, I ask you why?”
Isabella cocked an eyebrow, and he knew a sudden, overwhelming need to kiss that arch. “I was curious if youth knew more skills when it came to kissing.” She shrugged and her brightly-colored gown pulled taut over her breasts. Peregrine wished they were indeed alone, for he’d tug at the tulle that swathed those charms and really give her something to fuel her curiosity. “Regrettably, youth knows nothing more than I do.”
And he’d wager everything in his bank account that she had a fair amount of talent in the art of seduction. He blew out a breath and readjusted his hand on his cane. “Kisses depend on the man—on the couple together. Not on the skill of said man alone.”
“Perhaps, but him having a certain skill would help.” Her tinkling laugh sent eddies of awareness over his skin. “Lud, Peregrine, do you think I’ve suddenly acquired a familiarity only mistresses have?”
Heat snuck up the back of his neck that had nothing to do with the late afternoon sun. “What I thin
k is that you have enough cleverness to make a man assume that.” If the fleeting kisses she’d already given him were any indication, there was a banked fire within her that needed an outlet. And the thought of her exploring the carnal side of life with a man other than him left him at sixes and sevens.
Damn the vixen and her penchant for flirting.
“That sounds intriguing,” she all but purred.
“Whether it is or not, I must warn you about putting yourself into situations that could result in consequences you’re not ready for or would welcome.” He’d hate to see her forced into a marriage she didn’t want.
A hint of soberness fell over her. “I am smarter than that.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt that, but you are playing with fire.”
“Isn’t that the fun of life, Peregrine?” Her eyes twinkled with wicked promise. “I have had enough of living for other people. This summer, I’ve vowed to entertainment myself.”
“At the expense of men who don’t know better?” Surely she wasn’t that heartless.
“No, at the expense of my curiosity… and perhaps yours.” She trailed gloved fingers along her bodice.
Of course, he followed the blatant gesture with his gaze. The woman was dangerous, that was obvious, yet one misstep, not calculated, would see her—and him—in the drink. “Be careful, Isabella. Some men do not enjoy games, no matter how innocent.”
Confusion shadowed her eyes, gone with her next blink. When her lips pushed into a frown, he bit back a groan. “Is innocence something you prefer, Captain St. John, or do you wish to chase more… experienced women?”
Ha! There was the chink in her confidence. She was afraid he’d reject her if she didn’t lead him on a chase. “Like kisses, women are different. Experience level isn’t needed. It is how they interact with the man of their choice that is what attracts him.”
“Oh.” She held her lush lower lip between her teeth for a few seconds before releasing it in order to grin. “Tell me more of what you assume I can do if given half the chance.”
Things south of his waistband twitched to life. He ignored the reaction. If he wasn’t careful, he’d blindly follow wherever she led like that young pup. “I will not. Your ego doesn’t need additional feeding, for you’ve already secured my attention and well you know it.”
“Indeed I do, and quite nicely.” Isabella came toward him. When he thought she’d try to embrace him, she only passed him but she drew a gloved finger along his arm in a clear bid of possession. A shudder of need shot down his spine. Over her shoulder, she said, “If you think you can kiss better than that young man, come brave my father’s maze and find me.” In a whisper, she added, “I’ll wait for you, but not forever, for my mother made certain there were many eligible men here today…”
“As if you’d ever give in and encourage anyone approved by your parents.”
The smile that curved her kissable mouth sent his blood pumping. “True, but I never said I wanted a forever with anyone. Perhaps a tryst…”
“Not on my watch,” he spat out before he could think about the words. Bloody hell. His length hardened and pressed against the front of his trousers. The woman was a mix of wildness and innocence that played havoc with his decorum. Above all, she needed protection from herself, or her actions would spell disaster. And he’d be damned before he saw her in the drink with someone she didn’t love. “I’ll be there.”
“I thought perhaps you would.” Her tinkling laughter trailed behind her.
God grant me patience, for this woman can tempt a saint. He shoved his free hand through his hair and spun about to follow her progress over the lawn with his gaze. Now he only needed to find something to do for the next couple of hours.
Not wishing to disturb Jensen or ruin his fun, Peregrine took himself off to one of the gaming rooms set up inside the house. From what little he understood of a Venetian breakfast—which had nothing to do with that meal at all—dinner would be served inside, with dancing to follow. No doubt Isabella choose twilight for their rendezvous for everyone would be safely inside and well away from the maze.
If she wanted fire, he’d oblige, if only to attempt to control it.
As the sun began to set, Peregrine slipped over the lawn and then into the maze. Isabella had given him no instructions as to how to access the center, but he was confident he could puzzle it out.
Here and there, couples lingered, using the dead ends to steal kisses and caresses. He stifled the urge to laugh, for it appeared others had the same idea that she did.
Ignoring them, he continued on his path and navigated the twists and turns. A few times, he made wrong decisions and ended up facing impenetrable hedge walls. More times than he wanted to admit, he was forced to backtrack and retrace his steps, but finally, as the sun sank beneath the horizon, he gained the heart of the dratted maze.
Isabella stood near a fountain. The tinkle and light splash of the water echoed in the relative silence. Far in the distance, soft laughter blended with sounds of night insects and animals coming awake, and damn if she didn’t look all the more appealing in the shadows.
“I wasn’t certain you’d join me,” she said as she ran the fingers of one hand through the water. What the devil had she done with her gloves?
“How could I not, with such a blatant suggestion?” He prowled toward her, his steps confident and measured, easily closing the distance. Then, he rested his cane against the lip of the fountain and held out a hand as strains of music drifted to his ears. Obviously the evening’s festivities had begun.
She regarded him with an amused smile. “About that kiss?”
“Oh no.” Peregrine shook his head. “Give me a dance first.”
“Why?” Isabella frowned and he steeled himself against rushing the seduction, for what else could this evening be?
“You must finesse these things, my lady. People just don’t come upon each other and start kissing.” Obviously, she wasn’t as experienced as she wanted him to believe, and there was a certain satisfaction in that.
“Very well.” A tiny huff of breath gave away her exasperation, but she slipped her hand into his.
He pulled her into his arms, assuming the position of a waltz. As the notes of that very dance floated into their sanctuary, he set them into motion, his gaze holding hers, and the press of their bodies together lent poignancy to the interlude.
No one intruded, and he continued to guide her through the steps. Around and around the fountain they moved, and no words were exchanged, only speaking glances that had the power to heat his blood. Finally, he could put off the inevitable no longer, for this was why they were both here.
As soon as he drew them to a halt, he tightened his arms around her. The faint floral scent of orange blossoms teased his nose, the smell as elusive as she. Then he cupped her cheek, trailed the pad of his gloved thumb along her lower lip. When she trembled, he chuckled, smiled, and finally claimed her mouth with his.
Pleasant warmth built within his chest. As she slipped her hands up his torso, tiny little sounds of need came from the back of her throat, and those mewls spurred him onward. Settling her more comfortably in his arms, Peregrine deepened the kiss. He teased the corners of her mouth, nibbled first at her bottom lip then at the top, drew the tip of his tongue along the seam. At her gasp, he took full advantage and employed that organ to fence with hers. Over and over he drank from her, and the faint pressure of her fingers at his nape as she clung to him kept them connected.
Damn but he wanted her, could take her right here in the maze and she wouldn’t tell him nay, but he refused to use her like that. If they engaged in coitus, it had to be her idea, and he’d be darned if it would be outside. Beyond that, he was coming to appreciate her as a person, a woman, beyond a potential lover.
Yet, what game was she playing, and would he ultimately lose?
With great reluctance, Peregrine pulled away. She stared at him and he stared back. Her kiss-swollen lips curved in a grin. Her eyes were
round with awe and wonder, shadowed with the same banked passion that swirled through him. “Are you quite satisfied with my skill?”
“Yes.” That one whispered word was all the confirmation he needed. It appeared he’d impressed the hell out of her and rendered her speechless.
He gave into a grin, hoping it didn’t look as smug as it felt. “I live to serve, my lady.”
A sigh shuddered from her. She stirred, pushing out of his arms. “I have to return. They’ll miss me.”
It was an excuse and they both knew it. Perhaps she’d bitten off more than she could chew, or perhaps she merely needed time to digest her feelings and plot her next move. Either way, he would wait, for he was curious too. “By the by, Isabella, how did your experiment go? Are you convinced it is the couple together that makes the difference?”
“I am.” Her steps wobbled a bit, further evidence he’d managed to affect her.
“And?” May God strike him down for egging her on.
“Meet me at the book shop in the village tomorrow morning.” Then she fled the maze, her slippers crunching on the crushed gravel and shell path.
Allowing a proper amount of time to elapse before he made his way out, Peregrine retrieved his cane and whistled a military tune. Yes, indeed, the chase was on, and this time, it was him who’d lead her.
Chapter Eleven
June 5, 1818
Isabella waited at the rear of the book shop, impatiently, for Peregrine to arrive. Where was he? Had the incident in the maze shocked him as much as it had her, but instead of wishing for it to continue, did he want nothing else to do with her? If he didn’t come soon, she’d go out of her mind with panic. Worried, she threw a glance to the nearest window. Fat, gray clouds scudded across the sky, fighting against the sun that strove valiantly to win the battle. It would rain soon—again. Which meant there would be no opportunity to ride with the captain.
She drew her gloved fingers along the spines of books sitting on the shelf. This particular section of the shop belonged to travelogues and journals from people who had been all over the world. The books seemed to stare at her, mocking her with their experience while she’d only been to London and Buckinghamshire. In her current state of mind, she wanted to rip each and every book from the shelves and drop them onto the floor in a heap. But that wouldn’t help the vortex of thoughts swirling in her mind.
Lady Isabella's Splendid Folly: a Fortune's of Fate story (Fortunes of Fate Book 7) Page 11