Temptation's Darling

by Johanna Lindsey

  She gave him a wave as she mounted and went around the house and started riding southeast toward the lake a few miles away. But she soon noticed Monty had the same idea. She ought to avoid him. The man was trouble—for her senses. But she was too curious to find out how the rest of the dinner with her family had gone after she’d quit spying last night. So she whistled loudly, as her father had taught her to do, and he reined in to wait for her.

  “You’re not worried about being spotted out here?” she asked when she was abreast of him.

  “The point of coming this far north was to find safety in a remote area, which this corner of Cheshire certainly is. And your mother appears to have extensive lands with nary a forest in sight! You can see someone coming for miles.”

  “Not that far, but I get the idea.”

  “I’m not worried a’tall. Dawton Manor is far from the main roads. But if you’re worried about your family’s safety, don’t be. We lost our pursuers days ago. I assure you I was keeping a close watch on our journey, if you didn’t notice. And your servants have been warned not to mention houseguests to anyone outside the house, and Charley and I shall avoid Dawton town. By the by, I did tell your mother that she didn’t need to entertain us. We can ride, and I was shown to the extensive library. And there are a number of pretty maids in the house . . .”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “Is that so? My mother will never allow such shenanigans under her roof. Did you fail to notice how utterly proper she is?”

  “Ah, but ladies have been known to turn a blind eye if circumstances demand it, and she’s not going to want to annoy George when she is so delighted that he remembered her well enough to ask for a favor. But I do find it curious that you knew what I meant.”

  The grin on his face made her think he might only be teasing, but she didn’t really think so. Besides, what he did was really no concern of hers. Still it rankled for some reason. She turned the conversation to a different topic.

  “Did you enjoy dinner last night?”

  “You didn’t come down to eavesdrop?”

  A blush rose to her cheeks, making her wish she hadn’t let her hood fall back. But she lied, “Of course not.”

  “Would you admit it if you did?”

  She gritted her teeth. “I’ll admit I wanted to and thought better of it.”

  “Well, if you’re curious, your sisters were delightful. Beautiful twins! You should have mentioned that. London will love them this Season—and you, too, now that you’re home from the West Indies.”

  She cringed. “I would appreciate your not mentioning that I was in Scotland.”

  He grinned. “Of course. I rather like being your confidant, after all. It’s so—intimate.”

  She wasn’t even sure if he was teasing this time, but she got back to the subject of last night’s dinner. “Were my sisters perfect ladies?”

  “You mean unlike you? Don’t answer! Gads, what a bloody cad I am. It appears I got in the habit, a little too quickly, of not watching my tongue with you. Yes, perfect young debutantes—mostly. Emily lost her composure when she spoke of you, something about a lack of correspondence on your part, and that you didn’t even say goodbye to them, but I’m sure you’ll patch that up once you speak with her. From your clothes I assume you still haven’t?”

  She shook her head, so he continued.

  “But Charley was certainly fascinated by the pair. I don’t think he’s ever seen twins before.”

  “Did he behave to your satisfaction?”

  He rolled his eyes. “No, and I’m beginning to think he never will. I don’t have the heart to make him continue playing the role of a commoner when he so obviously abhorred it, so I’ve given him leave to return to his atrocious finery.”

  “You trust Charley to stay out of trouble while you are out of the house?”

  “Arlo knows to keep him in line. But they are currently engaged in swordplay on the back lawn, evidently a sport that is still popular on the continent, and surprisingly they looked as if they knew what they were doing!”

  “If England weren’t so civilized, you gentlemen would still be wearing swords, too. Pistols are so limited in use, when you spend more time loading them than you do firing them.”

  “I suppose that’s why you carried two?”

  “And had two more in my saddlebags!”

  He chuckled as they continued on, with her directing Snow toward the lake and him following her lead. It felt almost like summer rather than late April, the day was so hot and cloudless, so she hoped it would be cooler there next to the water. When they reached the lake, they stopped the horses and he dismounted. He came around to help her down, but she slid off Snow on her own and left her cloak and jacket hooked on the saddle before she found a spot to sit for a few minutes. Lone trees set far apart dotted the grassy landscape they’d ridden past, just as they did the back lawn at Dawton Manor. But there were quite a few trees surrounding the lake and an abundance of spring flowers.

  “Pretty, this time of year,” he commented as he sat next to her.

  A little amazed, she said, “I wasn’t sure it would be. I’ve never been here before in spring or summer. Mother was a strong believer in a lady’s staying out of the sun. But on cloudy days in the winter our parents used to bring us here to ice skate, even joined us on the ice. It was an idyllic time in our youth.” When everything was as it should have been and her parents still loved each other.

  That thought made her sad, which might have been why Monty’s hand reached toward her cheek. She leapt to her feet immediately and moved away to pick a few flowers. He stood up but didn’t follow her.

  “I’ll wager you didn’t avoid the sun in Scotland?”

  “You would win.”

  “But you’ve come home for a Season in London, haven’t you? Are you prepared for it, after being away from your mother all these years?”

  “Probably not.”

  “I could give you some lessons.”

  She glanced back and was struck again by how handsome he was. His hair wasn’t queued today, was loose about his wide shoulders. She had kept the tie she’d taken out of his hair when they’d kissed in that meadow, a memento of her very first kiss that she was going to keep. He’d slipped out of his jacket after he’d dismounted, and without the cravat, his white shirt opened at the neck, he looked like a country lord, reminding her of the casual way her father dressed when he was at home.

  They hadn’t parted ways as she’d thought they would, and his pull was very strong when they were alone like this. And he’d done a good job of distracting her from the sadness he’d caught a glimpse of with that attempted caress.

  As for lessons from him, she might enjoy that too much, so she said, “And deny my mother that pleasure? Believe me, she thrives on cracking that whip.”

  She bent to pick another flower, then heard, “How about a moonlit ride tonight? Sounds rather romantic, doesn’t it?”

  It did indeed, but she had to decline. “It might be with the right man—which you are not.”

  “And why not me?” he said indignantly.

  She laughed and threw a flower at him. “Don’t pretend you’re wounded. You admitted you’re a rake. If I do end up considering marriage and all of my stipulations are met, I certainly won’t be marrying a rake. So I will wait until I find that perfect chap before I agree to a romantic rendezvous.”

  “Then you wouldn’t marry a rake even if you happened to fall in love with one? Not that I’m asking you to consider marriage, mind you, gads no—but what if I were? That’s a rather rigid restriction to impose on yourself, don’t you think?”

  “Ha! What if I end up shooting you when you stray and I get hung for it? No, thank you.”

  He laughed. “Appreciate the warning, but—what stipulations were you referring to?”

  She started to say “None of your business,” but stopped when she realized this was a good opportunity to get another man’s opinion of her conditions for marriage when all she c
urrently had was her father’s biased view. “I intend for my fiancé to sign a contract prior to our marriage, whereby he agrees that as my husband he will not attempt to govern my behavior, will not touch my money, will not sell any businesses I might acquire—”

  “You intend to become a shopkeeper?”

  He looked so appalled she couldn’t help laughing.

  “Goodness, no, but if I find any businesses that look promising and it appears they could use financial assistance, I might send my solicitor round to offer an investment from a potential silent partner. They’d never have to meet me or know the investment comes from a woman. However, I might be more active in a horse-breeding farm I hope to start. I wouldn’t mind breeding Snow again. He produced some very sturdy foals in the last few years before I left Scotland. My father and I both enjoyed working with the horses there.”

  “Why not breed racehorses here? Much more lucrative, which is exactly why so many nobles dabble in it.”

  “But I’ve no interest in that. And consider how limited the uses are for racehorses. Would you hitch one to your coach, or wagon, or plow? But a strong, sturdy horse from Snow’s line would be useful for everything except racing—not that he’s not fast, too.”

  He approached her, but only to give back the daisy she’d tossed at him. “I’m curious. With both of your parents alive, how is it you have so much money to waste? An inheritance from grandparents?”

  “No, Father just wanted to make sure I have options to do whatever I want, and not to have to depend on my mother, who is very, very good at saying no.”

  “So let me get this straight. Your husband will have to sign off on never touching or promising away your money, but you can still empty his pockets?”

  She grinned. “No, I’ll agree to the same terms. There won’t be an endless stream of creditors banging on his door on my account.”

  “Sounds rather fair then.”

  She looked at him in utter amazement. “You’re joking, right?”

  “Why would you think so? I wouldn’t mind a wife who paid the bills.”

  She snorted. “I didn’t say I would do that.”

  “Afraid you will need to offer some sort of incentive, sweetheart, if you are serious about such a contract. Without giving up something on your end, you’ll never find a man who will sign it.”

  She frowned. She’d known it would be very difficult to get a man to agree when most men married for money or property or, at the very least, a lucrative dowry. But she wasn’t going to give a husband carte blanche on running up endless bills, either.

  But then she narrowed her eyes on Monty, reminding him, “Don’t nit-pick. I already said I’d be offering myself as a wife who doesn’t require any upkeep. And besides, my mother will no doubt supply a dowry. Getting her daughters well married seems to be the only bloody goal she’s got.”

  “Don’t you think you’re being a little harsh on your mother, who’s been nothing but gracious since we arrived?”

  “Not harsh enough and don’t ask.”

  “I’ll find out eventually,” he predicted. “Might as well fess up.”

  “No, and you won’t.”

  She moved back to Snow, annoyed by his negative opinion of her stipulations for marriage and his certainty that he’d find out why she hated her mother. He couldn’t really find out about the scandal that loomed over her family, could he? No, not unless she foolishly mentioned it. But his confidence still irked her.

  Before she reached Snow, she was suddenly lifted off her feet and Monty was carrying her toward the edge of the lake.

  “What are you doing? Put me down!” she demanded.

  He grinned at her. “I’m going to toss you in the lake.”

  “Don’t you dare!” She squirmed in an effort to free herself, but he wouldn’t let her go.

  “It’s time you had a swimming lesson. Since I’m apparently never going to get you into my bed—remember, you’re not in a dress yet—I need to impart something useful to this delightful relationship. Swimming is a life lesson everyone should learn.”

  “I refused this lesson the first time you offered it. Besides, you’ll ruin my boots and will have to buy me a new pair.”

  “Can they be female boots?”

  “No, I’ve got lots of those. You’ll have ruined my only pair that’s manly.”

  “Sweetheart, there’s nothing manly about you. And you realize, of course, you could remove the boots before the lesson. Besides, it would be worth the price of a new pair of men’s boots. I’ll take any excuse to put my hands on you.”

  She should have gasped, but instead she laughed and wiggled harder to get out of his arms, finally succeeding. “You’re incorrigible—and I’m going home to put on a dress.”

  “Not on my account!” he yelled after her as she returned to Snow.

  She leapt and pulled herself into the saddle, then glanced down at him. “A race?”

  He grinned. “Really? A kiss if I win?”

  “How about never mentioning kissing again if I win?”

  He laughed and pointed to a lone oak in the distance. “There’s the finish line.”

  She knew he’d win if they raced only that far, but she was fairly certain he’d lose a longer-distance race. So she said, “Back to the stable and I’ll agree.”

  “Wager accepted!”

  She didn’t cheat; she let him mount his horse before she turned Snow back toward Dawton Manor. And he got far in front of her rather quickly, but the horse he’d borrowed from the stable wasn’t a thoroughbred, and it soon tired, letting Snow catch up and take the lead. She left a trail of laughter behind her.

  Chapter Seventeen

  CARRYING THE LAMP FROM her room, Vanessa walked silently down the corridor in her bare feet. She’d taken a nap, was surprised she’d fallen asleep when she’d been gloating so much over winning that race with Monty today. She’d awakened to the knock on her door when her dinner arrived. And after that had come the excruciating wait for the house to become utterly silent. But finally it had, and now she was on her way to her sisters’ room.

  She knew which room her sisters would be in, the same one they’d shared as children. She’d had her own room across from theirs in the family section of the main house, on the east side, but the twins didn’t want to be parted even for a night, so they shared one. And the door wasn’t locked. She didn’t think it would be.

  She set her lamp on the night table and removed her cloak. She’d taken off her pants and was wearing only a clean linen shirt and knee-length drawers. That was the best she could do not to look mannish for them. She didn’t want them to start screaming because they thought a man was in their room, especially since their mother’s room wasn’t far down the hall.

  She stood there staring at her sisters for a long while. She was so pleased that they had turned out so pretty, that they still had things they could giggle about, that Kathleen hadn’t turned them into mindless puppets.

  She wasn’t sure how to wake them without causing any loud exclamations, worried that she might not be able to contain her own. She couldn’t exactly cover their mouths at the same time. One would wake before she reached the other and she was afraid they’d think they were being attacked and start screaming. She decided on a very quiet approach and sat on the floor, leaning her back against the side of their bed.

  “I’m home and you’re going to greet me quietly. Layla, it’s Vanessa. Em, wake up and see for yourself, I’m really here. You aren’t dreaming, my sweets. Your big sister has returned to you.”

  She repeated the greeting in a soft voice that wasn’t much louder than a whisper and winced with each word, hoping she wouldn’t elicit any squeals in response.

  A few minutes later she heard, “Really?”

  And the second voice finished, “You expect us to be quiet about it?”

  “Yes, please,” Vanessa said with a wide grin and tipped her head back to look up at the two wide-eyed faces peering over the edge of the bed at he
r.

  And then there were the squeals, somehow quiet ones, as the twins tumbled out of bed and onto the floor with her, one on each side, and smothered her in hugs. She laughed because she couldn’t get her arms around either one of them, so she finally leapt to her feet and pulled Emily up with her.

  “I want to do some hugging, too,” she said, wrapping her arms around Emily, then held out a hand to Layla.

  She wasn’t sure how long the three of them stood there in a circle with their arms around one another. She kept pulling one closer, then the other, then the other again. She was so relieved she’d returned to the same loving relationship she’d had with her sisters when she’d left. Despite Emily’s and Layla’s sharing a special bond because they were twins, they’d never, ever excluded her. She was their big sister, well, only by a year, but they’d still deferred to her because of it. Would they still?

  She finally stood back to really look at them and noted with surprise and the complaint, “How did you grow taller than me when I’m the oldest?”

  “Not by much!” Layla exclaimed, then gasped, “Nessa, where’s your hair?!”

  Vanessa cautioned, “Shhh, we can’t be discovered, well, I can’t be discovered, not yet.” But then she grinned and flicked a lock of hair on her shoulder. “It’s still long enough to coif or tie back.”

  “Barely,” Emily said with slight disapproval, but went on to ask, “Is Father with you?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because there’s still too much work for him to do.”

  But Layla asked, “What did you mean, you can’t be discovered yet? We’ve been expecting you ever since your trunks were delivered earlier in the week, but did you actually arrive in the middle of the night?”

  “No one does that,” Emily remarked in a scolding tone.

  “And neither did I,” Vanessa said. “I’ve been here a couple of days, I’ve just been hiding.”

  “Why?” they both asked in unison.

  Vanessa was beginning to realize that Kathleen hadn’t told them the truth, of course not the whole sordid truth, but not even that she had snuck away with their father without telling Kathleen. She could tell them that, but not much else without revealing where William was and why. Maybe they ought to know that, too. If it was to be a family secret, the whole family should know it. And it was time Kathleen paid the price for her transgressions, even if it was just scorn from her daughters. But for tonight, she would continue with the lies no matter how distasteful she found it—at least until she spoke with her mother.