by Lauren Smith
She sensed he was saying more with his words than that. His eyes were serious, and she could almost hear him saying, Stop hiding. Face him and you’ll know where you stand. It was why she loved her father. Because he knew just what to say, even just with his eyes when words weren’t needed.
“Perhaps I will take a walk,” she said.
Her mother made a soft little disgruntled noise and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, “As long as the walk takes you to Darby House…”
Alex nibbled her lips and then, still carrying the Gazette with her, went up to her room to change. It would do her some good to walk and clear her head. Then she might write Perdita and invite her to tea to discuss a strategy about Ambrose. And well…perhaps there was still a chance for her and Ambrose.
*****
Ambrose hadn’t moved from his spot along the small country road that led to Alex’s house in two hours. It had become his daily ritual since he arrived at Perdita’s house two days ago. He’d promptly and anxiously answered Perdita’s invitation, an invitation made in London after reading the Quizzing Glass Gazette and deciding, she’d told him, that she would give him a chance to prove his worthiness, if he so desired it.
The last two days he had left the house early in the morning to come here and wait with Perdita’s words in his ears: Prove to her that you are worthy of her.
He hoped she would come out onto the road and he could run into her. He was too afraid to go up to the door and face her father’s wrath and Alex’s coldness if she didn’t want him. He had this odd feeling that if he could see her alone, he might stand a better chance of winning her back.
He would never be worthy of Alex, but he wanted to try to be, every day for the rest of their lives. He straightened against the stone wall that lined the road when he saw a woman emerge from a garden gate leading to the Rockford estate. His heart leapt, and he sucked in a breath as he stared hard at the distant figure, and then he couldn’t stop the eager smile that split his face.
It was Alex. He would recognize her lovely figure anywhere.
“Come this way,” he muttered, praying.
For once, Lady Fate took pity on him. Alex walked in his direction, her head down until she was but twenty feet away. She seemed lost in her own thoughts, something he quite adored about her.
When she looked up and saw him, she froze. Her cheeks pinkened and she stood still, like a startled doe in the woods. His heart beat against his ribs, and his hands trembled, so he clenched them into fists. A dozen thoughts raced wildly through his head, but then he realized there was nothing he could say right away that his heart and body could not say better.
He strode up to Alex, and before she could speak or protest, he cupped her face and leaned down, slanting his mouth over hers in an explosive kiss. He wanted her to feel his heartache, his love, his desire, and every complex emotion that had been tearing him up inside for the last fortnight since they’d last seen each other. She melted at first, giving him everything he’d been starving for, but just when the kiss seemed on the verge of being out of control, she pushed his chest. It took every bit of him that was still gentlemanly to let her back away, because the last thing he wanted was distance between them.
Alex’s lips trembled as she gazed up at him, and it made him want to drag her back into his arms and hold her forever. He would fight the entire world to make her smile again.
“Ambrose…” She bit her lip, then continued. “I read the Lady Society column.” Her eyes were shadowed now, and a terrible fear surged inside him. His and Audrey Sheridan’s grand plan hadn’t worked. She didn’t want him. She didn’t trust him, she wasn’t going to—
“I’m terrified,” she blurted out.
It took him a few seconds to process her words, and he nodded, smiling sheepishly. “So am I.”
“You are?” she asked, delicate brows swinging up in surprise.
“Yes.” He was still cupping her face, and the feel of her smooth skin beneath his palms was soothing.
“What are you scared of?” she asked.
Ambrose closed his eyes and blew out a deep breath before he continued. He had to make sure she understood just how much she mattered to him and how much he adored her. If he didn’t get it right, he could lose her all over again.
“I’m afraid that I’ll have to live every day of the rest of my life without you. For a man in love, it’s the most terrifying destiny he can imagine.” There, he’d said it, the words that would either save him or condemn him.
“You—you mean that?” Alex brushed back a lock of her hair that the wind had been playing with.
“Every word. Alex, I’ve never loved any woman before. You came into my life like a shooting star. That night we met at the ball, it changed me. I wasn’t whole, not until I met you. That damned wager turned out to be the best thing that could ever have happened to me. I hope you don’t despise me for saying that.”
She tilted her chin to one side, and he sensed she was thinking deeply over what he’d said.
“You are right. That wager was the worst thing to happen to me, but it was the best thing, too.” As she said this, he glimpsed that vulnerability she often sought to hide from him and the rest of the world. He didn’t want her to hide, not from him.
“I am yours if you want me,” he said. “I would give you everything to make you happy,” he vowed. And he almost smiled as he realized Lady Society was right. Perhaps reformed rakes did make the best husbands.
Alex’s eyes were full of tears, and she nodded. “I do want you. And you really want me too? I thought you didn’t want to be tied to one woman for the rest of your life?”
Cursing softly, he dragged her into his arms and kissed the crown of her hair and held her tightly. “I was so bloody wrong. You’re the only woman I want in my life.”
Finally, he let her go and eased down onto one knee, holding her hands in his.
“Alex, my love—”
“Yes.” She cut him off, laughing.
The blossom of joy in his chest was so overwhelming that he couldn’t speak right away. He simply stared up at her, speechless, breathless.
“Ambrose, are you all right?” she asked.
“I thought I’d have to convince you,” he explained, swallowing the lump in his throat.
“You did…by having Lady Society tell the truth. You fought the entire ton for me. If that isn’t a test of your love, I don’t know what else could be.” She rubbed at the tears that were glimmering in her eyes.
“Finding Lady Society was quite the challenge, but it was worth it to win you back,” he admitted. “And it has been exceedingly rewarding to watch Gerald Langley, his sister, and Marshall Clifford become complete social pariahs. No one will invite them to anything now. It’s been thoroughly satisfying. Although Langley has vowed to discover who Lady Society is and make her pay for it. I’ve made a promise to keep an eye on him in the club in case he makes any wild bets that put the dear lady in danger.”
“Danger?” Alex gasped.
“Oh yes, Langley is furious. But the lady has been warned, and Vaughn and I are watching out for her. I owe her everything.”
Alex relaxed and smiled at him as she pulled him to his feet. “She certainly deserves two knights in shining armor to protect her. I’m glad she has you and Vaughn keeping watch. Who is she, really?”
Ambrose grinned down at her. “That is one secret I swore to take to my grave.”
“What? You can’t tell me?” She giggled as they began to walk arm in arm toward her home. Lord, he had missed the sound of her laugh.
“I cannot, but perhaps,” he teased, “if you start guessing now, you might discover her true identity in the next ten years since there are quite a few ladies to guess from.”
“Oh! I can’t believe you won’t tell me!” she gasped in mock outrage and lightly nudged him with her elbow. “Let me see…”
Alex began to name ladies back in London, and he shook his head, denying each of her
guesses. And in that moment, Ambrose realized he had finally found himself. Right here in this moment, walking down a country road with Alex at his side, his heart was fit to burst with joy. Who knew that accepting a wicked wager in a betting book would lead to the love of his life?
When they reached the garden gate entrance, Ambrose pulled Alex in for another kiss. She feathered her lips against his before she opened her mouth to let him delve deeper between her lips. She was bold, his sweet country lass. He loved the way his knees shook and his heart raced as he held his woman in his arms. From now on he would always bet on love in any wager.
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You’ve just read the 2nd book in the Seduction series. The other books in the series are The Duelist’s Seduction, and the upcoming book 3 The Rogue’s Seduction.
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If you’d like to read the first three chapters from The Duelist’s Seduction, the first book in this series, please turn the page.
Chapter 1
The predawn sky shone brightly with flickering stars as Helen Banks readied herself for the duel. Her hair was coiled and pinned tightly against her head, concealing its thick mass and giving her a boyish look—a disguise she prayed would last. Checking the black mask covering her face, she resumed walking. She took a deep, steadying breath as she adjusted her breeches and the black coat she’d pinched from her brother’s wardrobe.
The open field near the spa city of Bath was quiet. Two coaches waited in the distance along the roadside, and ahead of her, two men waited, watching her approach. Not even a breeze dared rustle the knee-high grass as Helen walked up to her enemy and his second. Both men also wore masks to conceal their identities should someone witness the illegal duel. The paling skies played with the retreating shadows of night, lending a melancholy air to the moment she stopped inches from the men.
“You are late, Mr. Banks,” the taller of the two men announced coldly.
With his broad shoulders and muscular body, Gareth Fairfax cut an imposing figure. He seemed perpetually tense, as though ready to strike out at anyone who might offend him. Dark hair framed his chiseled features, and the eyes that glowered from between the spaces of his mask were a fathomless blue. They were the sort of eyes a woman lost herself in, like gazing into a dark pool of water that seemed to sink endlessly, drawing her in until she can’t find her way back to the surface. She recognized the sensual, full lips, now thinned by anger, and the gleam of his eyes on her. She was never more thankful that the early morning’s pale light did not expose her as being a woman.
Helen hated knowing that even now, faced with possible death at his hands, she still desired him. Having seen him from afar over the past few months, she’d been enchanted. Gareth—for that was the way she’d dreamt about him, not as Mr. Fairfax—had a way about him, an animal magnetism that drew her in, with his smoky gaze and relaxed movements. Sin personified—she’d once heard a woman describe him thus at a dance and it was true. Even angels would be tempted to stray to hell for one glance, one lingering, seductive look. He smiled so rarely, she’d glimpsed it but twice in the months she’d seen him. Both times it had fairly knocked her off her feet with the sheer force of its power.
He’d never noticed her at the social engagements. She had stood close to the wall, quiet and lost in dreams as she watched him through her heavy lashes. Foolish, too, she knew, to look at him and feel such hunger for the things his brooding demeanor promised. He had passed her by on numerous occasions, but his head never turned and his eyes never alighted on her. Even now, as she stood before him, ready to die at his hands, she knew he thought her to be her twin brother, Martin.
If he ever discovered she was a woman, he would be appalled and furious. Especially given that she was only dueling him to save her brother’s life.
She briefly studied her opponent’s second. He was just as tall, his features nearly as striking as Gareth’s.
Helen choked down a shaky breath. “I was waylaid.” She prayed her voice sounded gruff and masculine.
Gareth’s eyes were dark orbs, burning with thinly controlled anger. He shifted restlessly on his feet, his imposing form momentarily revealed by the dark blue coat that contoured to his shape.
“Is this your second?” His growl sent shivers down her spine as his glaze flicked to the squat man in his mid-thirties standing behind her. She glanced over her shoulder, widening her eyes in silent encouragement for her second to come closer.
“I am,” Mr. Rodney Bennett replied and bowed.
“Mr. Banks, I am Mr. Ambrose Worthing,” Gareth’s second announced politely.
Well, finally someone was acting like a gentleman. “Mr. Worthing,” Helen said, making sure to keep her voice low. “Allow me to introduce my second, Mr. Rodney Bennett.”
Bennett passed by Helen, and he and Worthing shook hands. Bennett offered the pistols to Worthing for inspection. Since Gareth and Worthing had not brought the weapons, that duty fell to her as the challenged party. As the two men drew apart from her and Gareth, she tried not to stare at him. He was impossibly handsome, in that dark, mysterious sort of way that a woman simply couldn’t ignore. Like gazing upon a visage of an angry god, all fire and might, ready to burn her to ash with passion.
Her opponent glowered at her. “I suppose I should trust that you’ve not tampered with my pistol?”
His icy tone made her bristle with indignation. “You have my word it shoots fair,” Helen snapped. The nerve of the man to accuse her of cheating!
“Your word? We would not be here if I could trust your word. A man who does not honor his debts may not find it necessary to honor the rules of a duel,” Gareth retorted.
She wanted to scream. Her fists clenched at her sides. Her nails dug painfully into her palms as she struggled to calm down. She wanted to throttle her brother, whose rash and inconsiderate behavior had gotten her into this mess.
“Easy, Fairfax. Both pistols appear to be in working order,” Worthing announced as he and Bennett rejoined them.
Helen breathed a sigh of relief as Bennett resumed his position behind her. She’d paid him the last bit of money she’d had for him to appear as her second. She didn’t really know the man, having only met him briefly when she’d had to drag her brother away from the card tables a few nights ago. When she first approached Bennett with her plan, he had tried to talk her out of it, but when she offered money, he couldn’t refuse and had agreed to help her take her brother’s place in the duel. Even though he was a gentleman, the gambler inside him craved any bit of money he could get his hands on to return to the tables. She was lucky he hadn’t gambled away his pair of pistols, or else she would have been completely humiliated to turn up at a duel without weapons.
“Now,” Mr. Worthing said, “before we settle this, is it possible that you and Mr. Banks can reconcile the dispute?”
Helen started to nod, wanting desperately to find a way to settle the problem without bloodshed, but Gareth spoke up, stilling the bobbing of her head.
“Mr. Banks has run up a debt to me of over a thousand pounds. He has not been able to pay it back to me over the last three months. Furthermore, he created an additional liability of five hundred pounds last evening when he played with money he did not have.”
Helen swallowed
hard, a painful lump in her throat choking her. Martin, you damned fool…
“Why did you accept his vouchers then?” Rodney spoke up. “I saw you agree to play with him. You didn’t have to.”
“Banks had money on him. I assumed he’d replenished his funds and would settle his debts to me.” Gareth shot a withering look in Helen’s direction. “Shooting him will be a bonus.”
Helen held his stare for a moment, feeling the regret deep in her belly that she hadn’t known better than to trust her twin brother—too childish for a gentleman of one-and-twenty—to be more responsible. Instead of helping to secure her a position as a governess—their finances dim after the death of their parents and no good marriages likely—he had been losing what meager fortune they had to men like Gareth Fairfax, who had plenty to spare.
A man who would now take her life as payment for a debt she didn’t owe. But what else could she do? She couldn’t let Martin die. A man had options to survive, a woman did not, at least not one that wouldn’t make her despise herself for the rest of her life.
Her memory of the previous night was tinged with fury and disappointment in Martin. Her heart had plummeted into the pit of her stomach when she’d retired for the evening and found his room empty. All of her hopes were dashed the moment she’d learned he’d gone back to the gambling tables.
She’d hidden in the shadows outside the gambling hell, trying not to be seen by anyone passing by. The smell of alcohol stung her nose, and the raucous laughter echoing from the entrance sent chills of trepidation down her spine. It would ruin her completely if she were witnessed outside such an establishment. Bennett had promised to bring Martin out to her, but when Martin emerged, he was being roughly hauled out by a dark-haired gentleman, a man she recognized, a man she’d admired for the last few months from afar.