A Ring of Midnight Orchids: Flowers of the Aristocracy (Untamed Regency Book 3)
Page 6
“A perfect fit! And the style is most flattering, not that you need flattering with your lovely figure, but this dress really brings out the colour of your eyes. How charming of your fiancé to choose such a delightful ensemble.” She made sure that there were no creases in the gown before standing back and admiring her charge.
Angelique stared at her reflection in the mirror.
“You don’t think it a little revealing for day time. Surely this is more of an evening gown.” She tugged at the scooped neckline.
Mary brushed Angelique’s hands away.
“Stop fiddling. It’s exactly right for an afternoon’s carriage ride. Lordy, I know that you didn’t have much experience of dressmakers before you came to London, but at least Harold has done one thing right. Florence Lesmaes certainly knows how to style a gown.”
Angelique spread her hands down the material, loving the colour and admiring the fit.
“It is beautiful. And you are right. It matches the colour of my eyes perfectly. Lord Trenchard must be more attentive than I realized.” She didn’t know why her words settled uneasily in her stomach, but she suddenly wanted to take the dress off. “Mary, I am unexpectedly uncomfortable accepting such garments as gifts. The expense must have been enormous. I think I would prefer to travel in my own gown.” She reached around her back and began fussing with the impossibly small buttons.
Mary stilled her hands.
“Nonsense! Besides I have packed your old gown and to unpack again would make us even later than we are already.”
As if to confirm that they had run out of time, there was a sudden knock at the door. Mary opened it to find a smiling Lord Caruthers on the threshold. His smile became far wider as he glanced over Mary’s shoulder.
“Ah! You are abroad. I didn’t want to rush you, but we should be on our way.” He motioned for his man to take the packed trunks before stepping past the maid and bowing over Angelique’s hand.
Angelique couldn’t stop the flutter that filled her stomach at the sight of his glossy, dark hair as it fell forwards and brushed her wrist. She took a calming breath and lifted her chin before she spoke.
“Of course, but you need not have worried over me. I was perfectly capable of leaving earlier, though I do apologize for my behaviour last night. The wine affected me more than I would have imagined. I can only assume it was because I was tired...” She hesitated, embarrassment overcoming her as she recalled that he had apparently carried her to her room, helped Mary undress her, and had then placed her on her bed. She felt the flush on her cheeks spread further and her chin dipped again, but rose almost instantly as she caught sight of her gown. Unsure as to where to look, she took the coward’s way out and stared at the chest of the man in front of her while she heartily wished that her neckline wasn’t quite so revealing.
Lucas’ straightened and stared into her sparkling, if uncertain eyes. His gaze dropped to the gorgeous creature’s throat. Her pulse fluttered wildly, her skin taking on the most delicious rosy glow. She was more beautiful than any woman he had ever beheld. Even Sophia had been relegated to the realms of mere mortals in the face of such delightful opposition.
His Angel blinked, her dusky lashes brushing the skin of her cheeks before fluttering back up to let her crystal clear gaze meet his, and his world suddenly appeared to shift on its axis. His whole body burst into flame, a roaring inferno sounded in his ears, and his heart beat a crescendo inside his ribcage.
Mine!
He wasn’t sure if he had shouted the word aloud, but he didn’t care. She was his. He would die before he gave her up for another. How he didn’t drag her into his arms and ravish her senseless there and then, he didn’t know.
The startled look on her face had him regaining some control and he tore his eyes from hers. Her fingers wriggled in his grasp and it was only then that he realized that he still held her hand. Somehow he managed to uncurl his fingers and released her from his grip.
Her words came back to him and he stepped back.
“You have nothing to apologise for, Miss Lancer. The incident was my fault alone. I should never have allowed you to drink so much on an empty stomach. What with travelling all day, your reaction to such a heady brew was completely normal. I am only glad that I was there and able to assist you.”
Her eyelashes fluttered.
“I am more than embarrassed. Mary explained what happened...” Her voice caught in her throat and Lucas’ heart lurched at her discomfort.
“Not another word on the subject. It is over and forgotten. Have you broken your fast yet today?”
Angelique smiled and shook her head, his words clearly giving her some relief.
“I confess that I have not long risen.”
There was that charming blush again.
“Then we shall have a light lunch before we depart. Come, I will escort you.” He held out his elbow, but she immediately stiffened.
“The other patrons. They will know what...”
Lucas smiled gently and placed her hand in the crook of his arm.
“Not that you have anything to be embarrassed about, but I foresaw your reticence to appear in public so soon, and have engaged a private dining room for your comfort. I would have done the same last night if I had known that you were going to join me.” He exerted a little pressure and was glad when she began to walk towards the door.
“Thank you. I could not have borne being laughed at for my indiscretion.”
His anger rose with a velocity he didn’t know possible.
“It wouldn’t happen. I would have the tongue of the first person to open his mouth against you.” His voice was more of a growl and she looked up at him curiously.
“You are very protective of someone you barely know.”
Her eyes flicked over his frame and Lucas noticed a warmth that had not been there before. Pride in his physique replaced the anger. He wasn’t vain enough to call himself handsome, but he knew that he cut a fine figure in his dark blue coat, riding breeches, and hessians.
“I know you well enough.” His voice was low as he tucked his elbow into his side, trapping her arm gently against him. The skirts of her dress brushed his thigh and he glanced down. Her maid had woven her hair into a pretty braid, but wisps of blonde already escaped the style, curling at her nape and around her delicate ears. It tempted him beyond all reason and his good sense almost disappeared at the images they conjured.
What he wouldn’t give to wind a tendril around his finger and lift it away from her skin, leaving her succulent flesh exposed to his tongue. He would take his time, unpinning her tresses one by one, running his fingers through those bright curling locks and spreading the length across his pillow.
His pillow! In his bed. Sheets already smelling of their lovemaking.
Her scent suddenly engulfed him and stars danced before his eyes as his blood raced to his groin. Good God! What was he thinking! He had never felt like this in his life. He wasn’t the kind of man to have passing fancies, especially not with another man’s fiancée. Sophia Barclay had been his world until she married Brendon Spencer and the heartbreak had almost drowned him, yet in just one day, this woman beside him stirred something in him that he didn’t recognize.
His foot caught at the top of the stairs and he almost stumbled. Angelique let out a little gasp of surprise until he steadied himself again.
“Your pardon, Miss Lancer. A loose floorboard. I’ll have James tell the innkeeper.” he mumbled. Good grief! Had he really just blamed his over active imagination on a perfectly good floorboard? He had to bring himself under control before he made an utter buffoon of himself.
Angelique glanced over her shoulder, a small frown marring her brow. She hadn’t heard the floorboard creak or felt it move, but perhaps his weight had counterbalanced hers. That must be the answer for he now stood over her by more than a head height, steady as a rock. His shoulders were just as broad as she remembered too. Broader than both Pierce and Brendon. And her brother!
Her gaze dropped to the gown she wore again. The colour and the quality of the fabric really were lovely. Lord knew how much it must have cost, especially as Florence Lesmaes was not known for her economy. Yes, she could make you a gown that stood out above all others, but you had to pay for it. She wondered how Pierce had managed to pay for such a wardrobe, especially as he had only mentioned the visit to the library at Perrydale the week previously. Madame Lesmaes would have charged him handsomely for the rush order. Fiancé or not, she would have to pay him back.
Lord Caruthers’ butler smiled at her as they entered a small dining room. Angelique felt her cheeks burn, but the man’s face only showed friendly civility, not superiority at her lack of discretion the evening before. He pulled back her chair and tucked it beneath her as she sat.
A few moments later, the serving woman of the previous night entered with a tray. Again Angelique wished the ground would open for her, but the woman merely gave a cheery smile and began placing plates of cold meat and cheese along with freshly baked bread, on the table. She felt her stomach lurch at the sight of the food and thought her face might have turned green, but she breathed carefully through her mouth, avoiding the aromas while James poured from a pot of tea. He gave a short bow before leaving the room, taking the serving woman with him.
An awkward silence settled and Angelique’s stomach chose that moment to give an ominous rumble. Lord Caruthers’ lips turned up at the corner as he raised an eyebrow and passed the basket of fresh bread.
“I have been there myself on far too many occasions and can assure you that you will feel better with something solid inside you.”
Admitting his own overindulgence assuaged her guilt. She spread the bread with a little butter and chose a slice of cold beef.
“I only hope you are right or this is going to be a very uncomfortable afternoon.” She took a bite of the bread.
Lucas piled his plate high and laughed at her quizzical brow.
“We didn’t eat a lot last night. I am making up for the lack of food now.”
“Will we need to stop again before reaching Perrydale?”
Lucas shook his head.
“The weather has cleared. With a good run we will arrive well before dinner.”
She cut the beef and savoured it while he sipped his tea.
“And Lord Trenchard will arrive shortly afterwards?”
Lucas put his cup down rather more quickly than he anticipated. It clattered on the saucer. Pierce had been the last person on his mind, but Angelique, Angel, had the blasted man clearly in her sights. How he hated to be the one to break the news that her fiancé wasn’t going to be at Perrydale at all. That Perrydale, with its magnificent library, didn’t belong to the man either.
The food on his plate suddenly lost its appeal. Another meal about to be missed. Lord, how had he got into this mess? It was all Pierce’s fault, of course, but that didn’t make Lucas feel any better about his part in the deception. Angel would hate him when she discovered that she had been duped.
And he would deserve her abhorrence. He hadn’t thought about the implications of their actions before suggesting the caper as a way to end his friend’s relationship with the woman. The lovely but frivolous Angelique had simply been a name, a non person who floated about at the edge of society, talked about but never seen. A woman who Pierce needed to be rid of with as little fuss as possible. Angelique Lancer’s feelings hadn’t been important at all. After all, she would be perfectly happy at Perrydale’s hunting lodge. She loved reading, and Lucas never used the place.
He simply hadn’t been prepared for the affect she had on him. How could he have? He was still in love with Sophia, wasn’t he? He waited for the burning pain of loss and loneliness to engulf him, but nothing happened. Could he have imagined his feelings for Algernon Barclay’s sister? No, they had been there once, but now they had gone, replaced by something he couldn’t even name, it was so unfamiliar to him.
Was this how all men felt when they met the woman sitting opposite him? Brendon had fallen for her, and then Pierce. Was he, Lucas, about to be enraptured. He was about to be something, he knew that.
She closed her mouth over another morsel of food, her lips moving gently as she ate. He stared at them, fascinated by the way they caressed her food. Lord, if he didn’t want to press his lips against hers, to feel their succulent heat, to feast on her unique taste.
He stabbed his fork into a slice of cheese and shoved it in his mouth. He might have lost his appetite, but he still had to eat. The food tasted of nothing, but at least it kept his mind off her lips, her hair, her décolletage.
Damn! Why had he thought of that area of her delightful body? He was no saint. A man had needs after all, but between thinking he was in love with Sophia, and pursuing his new career, he hadn’t been with a woman in more months than he cared to recollect.
Now his blood raged to his cock again, making it painfully difficult to sit at the table and eat as if nothing was happening below his waist. It didn’t help that he had been living like a monk. He blamed Ivan, his trainer, for that. Lucas could almost hear the mantra that regularly spilled from the man’s mouth.
‘No sex before a fight. It took the edge off a pugilist’s keenness. No sex after a fight. Recovery time meant recovery, not exertion. No sex before training. How could one train if they were already depleted. No sex after training. A fighter needed his rest.’ Basically the man meant for him to never have sex.
Not that it mattered before, seeing as he wasn’t interested in any other woman, but he certainly didn’t want any other woman now. Lord! He didn’t think he wanted any other woman ever again.
But she had her sights set on Pierce. A lifelong friend. A leaden weight pooled in Lucas’ stomach. He couldn’t go through this again. It had been bad enough watching Sophia Barclay go all moon eyed whenever anyone mentioned Brendon Spencer’s name. Jealousy had hit him like a brick every time, but at least he knew that her feelings were returned. He had tried to deny it to himself, but he’d known all his life that Brendon was as soft on Sophia as she was on him.
This time things were entirely different. Pierce had said that he was not in love with Angelique, that she was not in love with him. But from the way the woman spoke about the man, whether it was love or not, it was clear that she was infatuated with him.
And, as with Brendon Spencer, there was a gentleman’s unwritten code of honour. One did not interfere in another man’s love life. One especially did not try to make a move on another man’s intended, even if, as in Pierce’s case, the intention hadn’t been intentional. Awkward as the situation was, and however much he had become involved, Lucas would never attempt to cuckold his friend.
He looked into Angelique’s brilliant eyes, the lead weight suddenly becoming impossibly heavier. When were the lies going to end? He hated himself as he opened his mouth.
“I would imagine that he will be there when we arrive. He travelled on horseback and probably set out early this morning. I know that he was sorry he couldn’t join us yesterday. A sudden small emergency. Nothing to worry about. Simply a short delay.” He could feel the devil sitting on his shoulder, reserving a special place in hell for him. Stealing Angelique Lancer away to his country hideaway had originally seemed to be a brilliant idea, but now he knew his error.
And there wasn’t a damned thing Lucas could do about it.
Chapter Five
The Truth Will Out
“I knew I had offended him. He was just too polite to say.” Angelique sat back in the darkened shadows of the carriage and stared at Lucas Caruthers impeccable seat as he
sat astride his horse, thighs caressing the animal as they might caress a lover.
“Nonsense,” Mary huffed as she leaned forwards and stared at his Lordship. “He was totally charming. The man does have a certain unsettling flair about him, but I think I misjudged him initially. I am sure that his heart is in the right place.”
Angelique glanced at her travelling companion.
“An unsettling flair? Whatever do you mean?”
Mary shrugged.
“I am not quite sure, but one minute he seems content and happy, the next he is all angsty. Perhaps it is the way all prizefighters behave. Always on edge. Always wary.”
Angelique looked back out of the window.
“I don’t believe so. He is nothing like Harold. Lord Caruthers has been gentleness itself.”
Mary nodded her head.
“Yes, but then Lord Caruthers’ father probably didn’t beat his son. Childhood experiences can change people. You of all should know that.” Her brow wrinkled as she considered. “So, it is not the prize fighting. Perhaps he is out of sorts due to escorting us to this Perrydale. Can’t be easy giving up so much of his time when he has nothing to gain from it. We are most likely interrupting his usual activities. It is a pity this duty fell to him and not his friend. Travelling with one’s fiancé wouldn’t be nearly so uncomfortable.”
Angelique’s stomach turned over. She wasn’t sure that the movement was due to her recent experience with the wine, or more to do with the thought of seeing Lord Trenchard again.
“Well, he won’t have to put up with us for much longer. My fiancé will apparently be at Perrydale when we arrive. I expect Lord Caruthers will immediately return to town.” She pressed her hand against her chest as her heart suddenly felt as if it were swelling enough to burst from her ribcage.