Not Proper Enough (A Reforming the Scoundrels Romance)

by Carolyn Jewel

  “Be serious.”

  “I am.” He pulled his hands free of his pockets. “If the Turkish room is out of the question, then I’ll take you to Upper Brook Street.”

  “Not now.” She walked past him, hardly able to believe she wasn’t sending him away, set down. “For heaven’s sake. Not here and not now.”

  “Later, then,” he said, joining her.

  “Are you mad?”

  “An evening between gentlemen, my word of honor on it. I’ll give you whisky, blue ruin if you prefer. We’ll smoke cigars, talk about the races, and lay wagers we can’t afford to pay.”

  “You’re impossible.”

  “No. I’m irresistible.”

  “You’re not.” She looked at him sideways. He was right, blast him. He was irresistible.

  “I am. You can play the man’s part with me. Until I take you to bed, that is.”

  She stifled a laugh. “Honestly.”

  “Do you like to have your ears kissed? The back of your neck?”

  “If we were lovers, it wouldn’t last.”

  His eyes twinkled with good humor. “My stamina is legendary.”

  “Behave.”

  “I’d rather not.”

  “Look at the evidence. Whatever happens, one of us will spoil it.”

  This time, he rolled his eyes. “Propriety never works with you. Make no mistake, Ginny, I mean to get you naked and on your back. Your hands and knees, too. Astride me. Up against the wall.” She clapped her hands over her ears for all the good it did. “You’ll know something about me that’s real and true before we do all that and more. I mean to have you screaming my name without any of that vagueness you talked about. You’ll know exactly and precisely who’s bringing you to pleasure.”

  “Stop. You’re impossible.”

  A gentleman came around the corner, heading for the stairs to the upper boxes. Fenris took a step back, which was an uncomfortable reminder that he had been standing too near. And of how strongly she’d responded to his being so close. When the man was out of sight, Fenris moved to her side, and she couldn’t feel the floor beneath her feet anymore. “Come away with me.”

  Her mouth opened, but no words came out. She’d never heard a man speak as if the words themselves were made of passion, but that was what she felt as Fenris spoke to her now, and that, that shocked her to her toes.

  “Can you feel it? The heat? The desire between us? The air between us threatens to combust. I want more of that, don’t you? I want that fire between us. Don’t deny what you felt with me before. Don’t pretend you don’t want to know where that sort of desire will lead us.”

  Her stomach took flight. Which was absolutely unaccountable. He tapped a finger against the wall. She leaned closer to him, and his eyes flicked to hers, not a careless look at all. The intensity shook her, touched her in a way that made her heart roll over in her chest.

  He grabbed her upper arm and pulled her toward him. “I want that quick fuck. And a long, slow one, if you’ll have that, too.”

  If any other man had said such a thing to her, she would have slapped him or simply frozen him into silence. She stared at him longer than was polite, and he stayed where he was, eyes fixed on her. He clenched his jaw. They were close enough to the stage that she could hear conversation from the auditorium and the sound of music. He released her and put a hand on the wall above her shoulder. “I’m good at fucking, as you will discover.”

  She stared at him. “Yes. I’m sure you are.”

  “I’ll make you feel. I’ll tell you secrets about me. Things I’ve told no one else. Have I shocked you?”

  “No.” Her breath caught in her throat, and she was horrifically aroused.

  The tension left his upper body, and he pushed off the wall, though he stayed close to her. He smiled like a cat that had got the cream. “I apologize if I’ve offended you.”

  “I don’t know if you have.” She tilted her chin. “I don’t understand you.”

  “You don’t want to like me, I know, but perhaps”—his fingers swooped in to brush the side of her head, just one hand, and just the lightest of touches—“perhaps you should stop trying so hard to dislike me.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Two days later. After dinner at the home of Lord and Lady Baring.

  TONIGHT, EUGENIA HAD MANAGED THE MINOR miracle of getting Hester dressed and away from her violets early enough that they had not arrived appallingly late for dinner, as was the usual case with their engagements. At the moment, Hester was taking her turn at the piano. She sat with a graceless plop and kicked at the hem of her gown so as to touch the pedal with her slipper. Edward Fraser, Lady Baring’s second eldest son, a naval lieutenant home on leave, sat beside Hester with a good deal more grace, his hands poised over the keys. Lady Baring, as it happened, stood beside Eugenia.

  Dinner was long over, yet people continued to arrive and crowd Lady Baring’s saloon. Unexpectedly, the back of Eugenia’s neck prickled with awareness. She ignored her goose-pimpling flesh and forced herself to pay attention to Lady Baring while keeping an eye on Hester. She resisted the urge to lay a hand on her nape.

  A commotion interrupted Hester and Lieutenant Fraser as they were beginning to play. Edward nudged Hester just in time, and they sat a moment, waiting for the butler to announce the newest arrivals. Eugenia turned to look when Hester beamed.

  Camber. And Fenris. She ought to have known. The duke stood just inside the door, surveying the room. When he saw Hester, he brightened. Fenris stood beside him, his hands clasped behind his back, eyes sweeping the room. Eugenia knew precisely the moment when he saw her. Her breath hitched.

  The announcements were made and the commotion attending the appearance of Camber and Fenris died down. At the piano, Hester said, “Ready?”

  Lieutenant Fraser nodded and the two launched into Johann Christian Bach’s four-handed Sonata in F major. Conversation slowly stopped as Baring’s guests realized they were hearing something extraordinary. Hester sparkled, and Lieutenant Fraser more than kept up his part. Their fingers flew along the keys, and their bodies moved in concert with the demands of the piece, leaning together, moving away, crossing arms over the keyboard.

  Lady Baring said with a touch more surprise than she ought to have, “Heavens. She’s quite good.”

  “Yes.” Eugenia couldn’t have been any prouder than if she’d been Hester’s mother. “So is your son.”

  “We’ve missed his playing while he’s been to sea.”

  When the two were done with their musical selection, they sat with their hands above the keys, looking at each other, both with broad smiles as they took in the enthusiastic applause and requests for an encore. Lieutenant Fraser helped Hester to her feet so they could acknowledge the accolades. He held her hand while she curtseyed, and he bowed, and they grinned at each other. Hester’s smile transformed her in that way that made her looks immaterial to anyone who was paying attention. This, this was why Eugenia had been so certain of Hester’s eventual success. For all her modest looks, Hester absolutely shone. How could anyone fail to love her?

  The lieutenant lifted Hester’s hand and bowed over it again. It seemed at last that someone had noticed.

  Lady Baring snapped open her fan. Her attention was on her son and Hester. “Her father knows Camber, is that not right? A longtime friend of the family, I’m told.”

  “Yes. Her brother and Lord Fenris are friends, as well.”

  “And she has your friendship.”

  “She does.”

  “A connection to two dukes.” Lady Baring continued her thoughtful consideration of Hester. “Her mother, I understand, is one of the Gloucester Percys.”

  “Yes.”

  “A lovely girl in her way.” She glanced at Eugenia. “Our Edward would be quite a catch for her.”

  Eugenia acknowledged that with a curtsey. “That’s so. But he’d be fortunate to have her, Lady Baring.”

  “She’s made a bit of a splash. A girl of s
uch talents, and Miss Rendell is—” She pursed her lips.

  “Unique?”

  “Yes.” Lady Baring smiled, and to Eugenia’s great relief, there was warmth there. “Precisely my thought.”

  “Your son is very handsome. And accomplished.”

  “He’s his father’s good looks.” Lady Baring tapped her fan on Eugenia’s arm and smiled. “It’s time he settled down.”

  Hester was now on the opposite side of the room, not far from where Fenris stood with Lord Aigen. She had a knack, Hester did, for making a friend of everyone, and she was doing so now. A dozen men and several young ladies surrounded her, including Dinwitty Lane. Baring’s eldest son was among them, too, doing his best to cut out his brother. She couldn’t help thinking that Hester and Baring’s eldest would be quite a match.

  As she watched Hester, she saw Lady Tyghe cross the room toward Fenris. Their greeting, when it occurred, was polite. Lady Tyghe was just the sort of beauty she’d always thought a man like Fenris best appreciated. He’d never have called that beautiful, languid woman blowsy.

  “Shall I speak to Edward?” Lady Baring tapped Eugenia’s arm again. “A hint or two might not be amiss.”

  Across the room, Lady Tyghe practically draped herself on Fenris. He did not look pleased. “I’m not sure it’s wise when they’ve only just met.”

  “I think it would do no harm to let him know we approve of her.”

  “I’ll defer to your judgment, Lady Baring.” Camber was now heading in Hester’s direction, and Eugenia’s heart sank at the thought of the two of them doing nothing but talking of plants. Somehow, she didn’t think Lieutenant Fraser would find the subject fascinating.

  Lady Baring’s attention moved past her. “She is a favorite of Camber’s, isn’t she?”

  “Like a daughter to him.” Eugenia gave Lady Baring a broad smile. “It’s really very sweet.”

  “Yes.” Lady Baring turned her head, and Eugenia followed her look. Lord Aigen and Fenris were heading their way. She did not see Lady Tyghe, and found she was inordinately pleased by that. Lady Baring offered her hand to Fenris when the two men arrived.

  Aigen grinned when Fenris had done bowing over her hand. “The two most beautiful women in London.” He bowed over Lady Baring’s hand, too. “You are radiant this evening. And here is the lovely Lady Eugenia.” Aigen clapped Fenris on the back. “Confess the truth, Fenris, have you ever seen two such beautiful women?”

  “I daresay I have not.”

  “Good evening, my lords.” Eugenia smoothed her skirts because it gave her an excuse to look away from Fenris. When she finished, however, Fenris was holding out his hand to her.

  Instinctively she put her fingers on his. Because that was what a lady did when a gentleman greeted her. Because this was Fenris and she liked him better than was safe. Her reaction to the contact was immediate. A shiver shot through her and whirled in her belly before it settled in the vicinity of her knees. He tightened his fingers around hers.

  Lady Baring looked from Fenris to her. “Lord Aigen,” she said. “I’m quite parched. Will you take me to fetch a glass of orgeat?”

  “Delighted.” Aigen bowed.

  “It’s been lovely speaking with you, Lady Eugenia.” Lady Baring extended a hand to Aigen. “Shall we?”

  Lady Baring’s departure left Eugenia and Fenris in a silence that was not as awkward as it ought to have been considering the way her pulse raced. She drew her hand from his and waved her fan underneath her chin. Would she really agree to become his lover? The thought took her breath. “Lady Baring thinks her son ought to marry Hester.”

  “Does she?” His eyes stayed on her, and she lost herself in them.

  Good Lord, she couldn’t even recall what she had been about to say, and she only just managed to stop herself from telling him his eyes were the prettiest she’d ever seen on a man.

  He cocked his head. “It’s too warm here. Don’t you agree?”

  He took her arm and led her toward one of the exits. “I would not mind a breath of fresh air.”

  They ended up outside where a terrace led to a modest lawn. Much smaller than the one at Bouverie. Fenris leaned against the low wall that marked the boundary between the terrace and the lawn. He studied her.

  She folded her fan and let it dangle from her wrist.

  “What?” Fenris asked.

  Eugenia closed her eyes and tried to make sense of her feelings. She failed. Her emotions were a jumble that left her uncertain about everything. She touched her chest. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with you.” He spoke in a low voice, the one that always sent a shiver down her spine, but it was the kindness with which he spoke that brought a lump to her throat.

  “I’ve been in a fog for so long, Fenris. I didn’t feel anything, and now I do and it’s your fault. I don’t know if I want this. I don’t like you. You know I don’t.” She lifted her hands in a gesture of futility. “I used to not like you.”

  “I am aware.”

  “I never felt this way about Robert. I mean, I did at the start, when I wasn’t sure how he felt about me, but I was never uncertain about my feelings, only about his. I never teetered between hating him and liking him. Never once. I dislike this ambiguity. Intensely.”

  He tipped his head to one side and smiled. “Come get drunk with me.”

  “Don’t laugh at me.”

  “I’m not laughing at you.”

  “You are.”

  “Believe me, it’s at my own expense.”

  “It’s absurd. The two of us.”

  He held out a hand. “Come here.”

  She went to him. When she was close enough, she touched the medallion he now wore as a fob. “All the young ladies sighed when you came in. They adore you.”

  “The stampede has begun.” He tapped the medallion. “It looks well enough here, don’t you think? Aigen is mad with envy.” He tugged on her hand and brought her close. Too close. “I think of you whenever I see it.”

  She propped a hand on his chest and pushed away. “Impossible man.”

  “That’s so.” He let her go. “Make whatever excuse you need to take your leave and see Hester home,” he said. “I’ll wait for you at the mews behind your house.”

  Her breath caught in her throat and ruined her attempt at nonchalance. “Why?”

  “Why do you think? We’re going to get drunk together and tell each other our deepest, darkest secrets.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Four hours later. No. 25 Upper Brook Street.

  “THIS ISN’T BOUVERIE.”

  “No. It’s not.” Fox dug the key from his pocket but kept his other hand at Eugenia’s back. As if that would keep her from changing her mind. She touched the numbers painted on the wall beside the door. He closed his fingers around the key. “The Dukes of Camber own the whole of this street and the six or seven surrounding streets. Eight years ago, the yearly lease came up here, and rather than negotiate with another tenant, I took this house myself.”

  “For your bachelor quarters.”

  “For an escape from Bouverie.”

  “Why?”

  “Bouverie reminds me too much of my father.” He put the key in the lock. “Every time I step foot in the place, I feel the weight of centuries of expectations.” He opened the door and held it open for her. “At times, it’s more than I care to deal with.”

  His butler, Golde, kept candles burning in the chandelier in the entrance to the town house, so the foyer was softly lit. Exactly as he preferred. Light reflected off the crystal drops in the chandelier, from the gilt frame of the mirror across from the door, and from the mirror itself. As he turned from the door, he stole a glance at Eugenia. His heart skipped a beat.

  This was his home, and Ginny was here. Against all reason and decency, she was here with him. He had every bad intention in the world so long as it sped them toward the moment when she agreed to marry him. When he had, at last, convinc
ed her that her feelings were safe in his keeping.

  Without giving voice to those thoughts, he escorted her to his study and lit candles before he crossed to the sidebar. Eugenia stood in the center of the room, her cloak drawn tight around her, candlelight flickering off her hair. He’d imagined this several times, being alone with her, though most often those dreams had a bedroom as the setting. He found the bottle he was looking for and turned back. “If we’re going to get drunk, whisky’s as good a way to go as any.”

  “If you say so.” She slipped off her cloak and draped it over a chair.

  “I do.” He studied her while he opened the whisky. “I can take you home if you’d rather.”

  She shook her head.

  “Good.” He opened one of the cabinet doors and found several bottles of wine on their sides. But it was glasses he was after. “Here we are.” He retrieved two tumblers from the back of an upper cabinet and splashed two fingers into one and half that amount in the other. “Aigen gave this to me. From the Wateresk distillery in the Grampian Mountains.” He crossed the room to hand the smaller portion to her. “Have you been drunk before?”

  “Tipsy once. On wine. But not drunk.”

  “Ah. A virgin. Not to worry, I’ve experience with virgins.”

  She turned pink, but she laughed just as he’d hoped she would.

  “We’ll go slowly.” He smiled down at her, and he thought she was the most alluring woman he’d ever known. “I promise it won’t hurt a bit.”

  “Men always say that to girls.” She glanced into her glass. “They always lie.”

  “We’re a sorry lot, we men. A sip, Ginny. Like so.” He demonstrated what he meant and waited for her to try.

  She did, but too much for someone who had no experience with drinking. Her eyes went wide, and she coughed. “Goodness. I don’t think I like it.”