A Season for Treason

by Golden Angel

  Certainly not Hartford, but she had not been able to see his face, so she had no idea who it was. Inspiration struck as the waltz slowed. The hall was so close… Pretending to stumble, she winced when she felt, more than heard, the rip of her hem.

  “Oh, dear!” She interrupted Wintershorne’s monologue about his hounds. Goodness, the man could go on. While Mary liked dogs, she did not have the mania for them Wintershorne clearly did. An obsession he had held back from expounding on until now. “My hem… I shall need to go to the retiring room.”

  “Of course—”

  “Thank you for the dance,” Mary interrupted before he could offer to escort her. Releasing his arm, she smoothly slipped into the crowd, now returning to throng the floor and ease the crush of bodies from the sidelines. As petite as she was, she easily lost him within a few steps.

  Fortunately, she knew her direction precisely, darting between several people to the edge of the room. The hallway was dim, but she could see the door closing at the end. Remembering the layout of the house from last Season, she was fairly certain that it was the conservatory.

  Gathering her courage, Mary hurried down the hall, excitement rising in her chest. Was this it? A clandestine meeting between the Earl of Devon and… a traitor? Or was the earl the traitor?

  Reaching the door, she carefully, quietly opened it, breathing a sigh of relief when large green fronds met her eyes. It was the conservatory. Slipping through the door, she gently closed it behind her and moved down the path—not too quickly—listening for voices ahead.

  Rex

  What the devil was Mary doing?

  Watching her waltzing with Wintershorne, smiling up at him incessantly, had been pure torture, but Rex only had himself to blame. He had been enjoying dinner with Warwick and Captain Jones. Well, perhaps ‘enjoying’ was the wrong word when it came to Warwick, but the man was more pleasant than usual in the captain’s presence. He had been doing his best to be ingratiating. Regardless, Rex had not realized how much time had passed and had been later to the ball than intended.

  At least finding her had not been too difficult, even if watching her waltzing and smiling at Wintershorne had been a chore.

  Seeing her hie off down one of the many hallways had been a surprise, though. Narrowing his eyes, Rex strode purposefully after her. In the wake of everyone dispersing from the waltz, he did not draw much attention. She had timed her disappearance well—but to what end? Was she meeting someone else?

  Another suitor?

  Possessive jealousy, an emotion he was in no way familiar with, streaked through him, catching him off guard. Not once had he ever been possessive over a woman, much less jealous. Then again, he already knew Mary was different—made him feel differently. He was not sure he approved.

  Surely, this unwelcome emotion would dissipate once they were wed, and she was legally tied to him. That had to be it. He was feeling possessive because even though he had decided on his bride, she had not decided on him. Once she did, and their future was assured, these strange emotional reactions would pass.

  Until then, he was not the type to sit idly by while his intended bride did… whatever she was doing. Rex much preferred knowledge over ignorance.

  Entering the hallway, he saw her slip through a door at the end, the door slowly, silently closing behind her. Hurrying down the hall, he pulled it open only a few seconds later, but she had already disappeared down the pathway into the greenery. It was a conservatory.

  Rex made a face. Such surrounds were perfect for illicit rendezvous during balls. Many couples could walk through, finding all sorts of hidden crannies and nooks for a private moment or tryst. The suspicion Mary was here for exactly that purpose intensified, pricking him uncomfortably.

  Pressing his lips together, he strode down the main pathway—slowly so he would not miss a glimpse of her if she took a side path through the plants or settled on one of the many benches in the nooks. Something niggled in the back of his mind, a little voice insisting this made no sense. He could have sworn Mary was uninitiated in lover’s play, despite what she had done with him. Why would she seek out someone else? Especially when the desire between them remained unquenched?

  Was he the only one who felt the connection? That did not feel right, either.

  He had begun moving so quickly, he nearly stumbled over her. She had come to a halt in the middle of the pathway, just around a curve. If he had been paying more attention, perhaps he would have glimpsed her dress through the palm fronds, but he was more exercised than usual.

  “Mary!” He barely managed to pull back, skirting to the side rather than plowing straight over her.

  “Rex!” Wide-eyed, she stared up at him, horrified to see him… but what was she doing here? And why was she so horrified when there was no one with her?

  Given a moment, he would have voiced those questions, but he did not have the opportunity before she suddenly flung herself against him, leaving him no choice but to catch her. Then her lips pressed against his in a desperate, searing kiss, her arms wrapping about his neck. Taking a step back with one foot to brace himself, one hand landed on her lower back, the other on her buttocks. Instinctively, he gripped the soft flesh, pulling her more tightly against him.

  Mary

  Blast! Rex had the absolute worst timing.

  The Earl of Devon had just met up with a man who Mary was fairly certain was part of the Russian delegation. Although she had not been able to see his face, she had been able to hear him when he greeted Devon. The earl had been tense, but the other man relaxed when Devon demanded to know why the Russian had insisted they meet. He had said something about repaying his debt… then Rex had called out her name.

  Both the earl and the Russian turned, trying to see through the foliage to see who was there. Mary had panicked. They could not know she had followed them, and she could not explain to Rex who she was following. In a blind panic, she had done the only thing she could think of, throwing herself at him.

  If the men looked, they would see a couple meeting for a private kiss. If she could kiss Rex long enough, keep him quiet, the men would not hear him questioning her and would not suspect anyone had listened to their conversation. To distract him, she kissed him hard, giving herself over to the feel of his lips moving over hers, his tongue sliding into her mouth to explore, his hands gripping her body. As solutions went in such fraught circumstances, it was not a bad one, except—

  “Oh, my!” A scandalized utterance rang through the air.

  Feminine. English accent. Certainly not Devon or his companion.

  Oh, no.

  Oh, no, no, no.

  Mary felt her body slide down Rex’s front, felt his hand release its hard grip on her bottom. Her lips throbbed, the area between her legs aching unhappily at the sudden loss of pressure. Turning her head to look over her shoulder, her heart sank.

  Three pairs of shocked eyes stared back at her, while one enraged pair was singularly focused on Rex. Aunt Elizabeth and the Duchess of Richmond stood just in front of Thomas and Lady Jersey. Thomas glared at Rex as if the only thing keeping him from Rex’s throat was Lady Jersey’s arm in his.

  For the first time ever, Aunt Elizabeth looked utterly flummoxed. Her mouth was slightly agape as though she could not believe what her eyes were telling her. The Duchess of Richmond was little better off, but behind them, Lady Jersey’s expression was already changing to one of glee. Not maliciously so, but the woman was an inveterate gossip, perhaps the biggest gossip of the ton.

  “I…” Mary’s throat clogged, bright red heat washing over her face. She felt warmth move down to her chest and knew the hot color would only make her appear guiltier, but there was no stopping it. “We…” The words would not come, as if her brain had frozen, ground to a halt by the extraordinary circumstances. There were too many things to consider.

  Were Devon and the Russian still nearby, listening? What was Rex thinking? What excuse could she possibly make for being caught in such an indel
icate situation? How on Earth could she salvage this situation?

  Behind her, Rex cleared his throat, stepping beside her and taking her hand in his.

  “Ladies, Hood, I hope you will be the first to wish us happy. Miss Wilson has just accepted my proposal.”

  The trap she had accidentally woven closed about her like a steel cage.

  Chapter 13

  Rex

  Engaged. Not in the manner he had expected. His soon-to-be-bride had untapped secrets. For a moment, Rex wondered if he was doing the right thing by marrying the chit… but there had been no alternative. Keeping Lady Jersey quiet after catching them in a passionate embrace would have been nigh impossible. It was a good thing he had already been publicly courting her, or there would be mutters about Miss Wilson trapping him into marriage.

  Ha! If anything, it was the other way round, and Rex was not sure how he felt about that, either.

  He would have to ponder those feelings later. For now, he had to face the fluttering Duchess and Lady Jersey, the surprised and suspicious Viscountess Hood, and the openly glowering Thomas Hood. Mentally, Rex started tallying up all of Mary’s sins, for which he would chastise her later.

  The Viscountess masterfully hurried the Duchess and Lady Jersey through their responses before suggesting they take their leave and regroup at Hood House. To speak to the viscount was the silent message behind her words. Rex had no qualms.

  “Perhaps I could take Mary in my carriage and meet you there?” he suggested when Thomas hied off to search for Arabella. Viscountess Hood pursed her lips, then nodded. Normally, such a thing would be unthinkable, but with Lady Jersey surely spreading the news of their engagement throughout the ballroom at this very moment, the proprieties could be bent a bit.

  “We will join you shortly.” The viscountess glanced back toward the ballroom. “As soon as Thomas finds Arabella. I am sure he will not be long.” He would not miss out on berating Rex—Rex had no illusions about who the Hood heir would blame for that little scene in the conservatory. Another item to add to Mary’s tally. His palm itched something fierce.

  Mary stirred next to him, pulling herself out of a reverie. He had almost begun to worry a bit about how quiet she had become after his announcement. While she had nodded and murmured all the right phrases, she had been otherwise silent.

  “Oh… no… I should wait, too.” She started to pull away from him, but Rex held fast.

  “No, you should come with me.” Stating it as a command, he covered her hand on his arm with his own, his fingers pressing down against hers. Bending his head, he caught her wide, startled eyes. “We have a few things to discuss in private. I assure you, no one will think twice about the proprieties.”

  While he knew very well, the proprieties were not at all what she was worried about, his statement caused the viscountess to reassure Mary that there was no cause for social concern. Which, of course, meant Mary could not voice her true reason for disquiet—she did not want to be alone with him.

  Given the circumstances they had been found in and her aunt’s reassurance, it would look deucedly odd if Mary continued to protest. The angry little look she directed at him when they turned away from her aunt made him smile. The center of his palm was feeling itchier than ever, and his cock was thickening in anticipation as he issued the order for his coach to be brought round.

  Mary

  Marshaling her arguments against marriage was far more difficult, with Rex standing right beside her. Just his presence was distracting, so were his firm grip on her fingers, the hard line of his body, and the strength and power emanating from him like an aura clinging to his form.

  Getting in his carriage with him, alone, was certainly not going to help matters. Her aunt felt it was appropriate now that they were engaged, which only made their engagement even more difficult to escape from.

  Do I want to escape?

  Poppycock. Of course, she wanted to escape. She did not want to be married to someone she did not love, who did not love her. From observing the couples around her, she had come to the conclusion the best marriages were those where the couples loved each other and were faithful to each other—two things she did not think would feature in marriage to the rakish Marquess of Hartford.

  They do say reformed rakes make the best husbands.

  Hmm, that point was harder to argue. Several of the couples she had observed proved the point. Even her cousin, Felix, had a very disreputable reputation before he had married Gabrielle, yet the two of them were happier than ever. Thomas’ reputation had been that of an upright gentleman before marriage to Arabella, but Arabella’s brothers had been more like Felix, yet they, too, were happily in love and faithful to their wives.

  Arabella’s friend, Cynthia, who had married the Earl of Spencer, was even more of an example. The Earl of Spencer’s reputation had been so scandalous, stories of his exploits were still bandied about, several years after his marriage. There were no new stories to add to those, however, as he was utterly devoted to his wife. All current tales involving the Earl and Countess centered around Cynthia’s heated reactions when women importuned him or the earl’s possessive displeasure when a gentleman dared flirt with his wife.

  Presumably, having sampled so many delicacies before marriage, the rakes were perfectly happy to choose their favorite dish and remain steadfast to it after their wedding.

  Which was all well and good as long as the rake chose to reform. Was there any indication Rex would agree to relinquish his hedonist pursuits? What would happen to the Society if he did?

  Could love ever enter the equation between them?

  Mary grimaced. Unfortunately, it was far too easy for her to imagine it—on her side. She already had feelings for him that went far beyond her interest in any other gentlemen of her acquaintance. The problem was, she did not know if his emotions ran the same way.

  Standing beside him in silence as his carriage finally came to a halt before them, Mary inwardly sighed. Maybe riding in private with him would not be so bad. At the very least, she would have an opportunity to question him on his views about marriage, how he pictured them going on. At least, she hoped she would.

  Instead, the moment Rex shut the door behind himself, Mary found herself hauled out of her seat and across the carriage, tumbling into a far-too-familiar position over his lap. It didn’t matter that she had only been in this position once before, her body immediately recognized it and reacted accordingly. Her bottom and insides clenched, her legs kicked, and heat surged through her core.

  “Wait!” She shrieked as quietly as she could. Even though the carriage was already in motion and she was unlikely to be overheard by departing guests, unless the coachman was deaf, he would be able to hear her. “What are you doing?”

  A humorless chuckle rolled around the dark carriage.

  “You know exactly what I am doing, Miss Wilson. What did you expect to happen after that little performance?”

  The skirts covering her legs were flipped up, his hand slipping between the slit of her drawers to touch the curve of her bottom and push her drawers open to bare her buttocks to him. A hard shiver shook Mary, her body responding with instant arousal at his touch, despite her ominous positioning… or perhaps because of it.

  This was the man who was going to be her husband.

  Oh, Mary, what have you done?

  Rex

  With his intended bride draped across his lap, his cock throbbing against her side, palm resting gently on her upturned arse, Rex was finally back in control. The carriage lurched along, reminding him of the time constraint, but he was already calmer. Rubbing the smooth skin of her bottom centered him even more, back to being the king of his world.

  “Now then, Miss Wilson, since I have salvaged your reputation, I would like an explanation of your actions this evening.”

  The bottom under his hand wriggled, and her back arched as she tossed her head up, trying to look at him over her shoulder. He could practically feel her accusing gla
re burning him.

  “What do you care? You are getting exactly what you wanted!”

  Smack!

  Squealing, her head whipped back around before she managed to muffle the noise, throwing her hands over her mouth.

  “I thought you wanted a proper courtship,” he mused aloud, rubbing the spot on her bottom he had just slapped. She squirmed for a moment before stilling, silent, trying to think of an explanation for her fickle behavior. The mystery was tantalizing but becoming frustrating. Mostly because he was now bound to marry a woman whose motivations were a complete enigma. He thought he would have more time to puzzle out her secrets. “What changed?”

  Rather than answering, Mary squirmed on his lap again. Lifting his hand, Rex gave her bottom another hard slap, enjoying her muffled shriek, amused by her attempt to stifle her cries. John Coachman would probably be able to hear her anyway, but he was well paid to say nothing. Rex decided it was best not to inform her it was a useless endeavor since trying to quiet her shrieks seemed to comfort her.

  “Why did you go into the conservatory?”

  Silence.

  Smack!

  Another muffled shriek.

  Rex shook his head, bemused. Mary was an intelligent young woman. She knew the direction this was heading. Maybe she was counting on arriving at Hood House before he could truly begin to punish her?

  Well, there were other ways to torment a woman. First, he would heat her bottom, though. He was enjoying spanking some of his frustrations out on her tender flesh, knowing from the last time she’d been over his lap, a dollop of pain increased her arousal.

  “Were you meeting someone?”

  Silence.

  Rex sighed.

  “Perhaps a little more convincing is in order before I ask another question,” he murmured in warning.