by Robyn DeHart
“Absolutely. Although, and I know you don’t want to hear this, but if you’re going to be bold and steal a kiss, I would think Mr. Middleton would be a better candidate.”
Claudia all but dropped her teacup. “Why?” She practically shrieked the word. She needed to have better control of her emotions before Poppy discovered the truth. “I mean, I can’t imagine why I would be kissing Mr. Middleton. I scarcely know him.”
Poppy shrugged. “True, but he’s so dashing and seems the kind of man that would heartily appreciate a woman bold enough to kiss a man. And he seems to like you.”
She should keep that thought in mind. For what? So she could kiss him the next time they were alone? There wouldn’t be a next time.
“That’s ridiculous. We have a business agreement, nothing more.”
From now on she had to keep a professional distance from Mr. Middleton. Lest her father and Richard find out he’d been “courting” her. She almost chuckled out loud. Courting.
Where was he? It wasn’t like Richard to be late. Not even to the theater.
Claudia scanned the theater lobby again and still found no sign of him. She stood with Poppy, although Poppy was surrounded by young gentlemen all eagerly awaiting a smile or something. Poppy was as friendly to each of them as she was to every person.
Poppy was gloriously beautiful, and men always took a second look. Claudia, on the other hand, was not unattractive; she was what men often referred to as charming. But charming didn’t keep a man by your side. Charming didn’t give you more than one man to choose from. Two if you were lucky. Or extremely wealthy. Both things Claudia had never been. She had a dowry—a nice one, but certainly not enough to warrant a line of suitors.
Claudia sighed. What would it feel like, even for a moment, to have men fall all over themselves to get your attention? She shook her head. It was a silly thought and deserved no more attention. She wasn’t that kind of woman, and she never would be.
Poppy said something, and her entourage guffawed. Claudia tried not to roll her eyes. She pitied her friend. So beautiful, but since she had no dowry, not one of those men would ask for her hand. Claudia wasn’t certain which of the two of them was in the worse situation.
She glanced around the room again, searching for a sign of Richard, and instead found someone staring at her. That never happened. But there he was, Mr. Middleton, standing across the room, simply watching her. He held his glass up in a silent toast and smiled in a manner that made her shiver all the way up her back. A smile for only her.
He made his way to her, and before she could protest, brought her hand to his lips. She felt his soft breath caress her through her gloves. Trapped in his gaze, she almost forgot where she was. Almost.
“I hoped I’d see you here tonight. You look lovely, Miss Prattley, as always.”
She nearly snorted. Lovely. He certainly was giving this courting thing all he could. But she was too clever to fall under his spell. He might be sinfully attractive, and perhaps he had given her a knee-weakening kiss, but that did not mean he was seriously in pursuit of her hand.
With that in mind, she pulled said hand away. “It’s certainly a surprise to see you.” She tried to sound cool, disinterested, but doubted she was convincing, as he didn’t turn to leave.
“Come riding with me tomorrow,” he said.
It didn’t sound like a request. Her heart quickened. Regardless of how utterly thrilling it was that he wanted to spend more time with her, had sought her out this very evening, she could not encourage his charade. “I cannot.”
“Oh, but you must. I have a gentle mount just perfect for a lady such as yourself.”
“That’s very kind, but I really mustn’t.”
“You mustn’t. That doesn’t sound the same as you’d rather not. I’d hate to think my company is that unpleasant.”
“Oh no, it’s not that at all. Your company is quite pleasant.” She shouldn’t have said it, but it would have been rude to allow him to believe otherwise.
He was silent for a moment. His gaze wandered to Poppy and her group, and he studied them for a while before he spoke again. “Tell me about all of those men around your friend. Is she some sort of enchantress who has bewitched them?”
“Her beauty bewitches all men. Frankly, I’m surprised you’re here talking to me instead of over there with her.”
“There’s no one else I’d rather be talking with. I’m positive Lady Penelope is a most entertaining converser, but to warrant a crowd of five men? I’m not so certain.”
“Look at her.”
She watched him glance over at Poppy. His eyes roamed the length of her. Claudia’s breath caught in her chest while she waited for his reaction. She’d seen it in men time and again. This was where he’d see how foolish it was to stand here talking with her, and he’d walk away. But to her surprise he shrugged and turned back to her.
“She’s very pretty,” he simply said.
“The most beautiful woman in all of England.”
“That’s a heavy statement. And I’d disagree. I think there are prettier women and some equally pretty.” He met her gaze. “A woman’s beauty does not lie only in her face. You have to look at the entire body. The graceful curve of the neck.” His eyes moved down her neck, and his words burned like fingertips. “The delicate skin of the wrist, the way her body moves when she walks. All of those factor into whether or not a woman is beautiful.”
She didn’t know how to respond to such a comment. She could scarcely catch her breath. Did he think her beautiful? How foolish. No man thought her beautiful. Even Richard with all his poetic words of love had never uttered anything that so much as suggested she was beautiful.
So rather than face the awkward, she changed the subject.
“Do you enjoy the theater, Mr. Middleton?”
She thought she heard him chuckle, but his expression never changed. “Most of the time. I admit I do not attend that often. I see now that that is a mistake. I suppose had I been attending more often, I might have met you sooner.”
“You flatter me, Mr. Middleton, but surely you came this evening with a party. Perhaps a paramour?”
“I came this evening because I had a feeling you might be here, and I wanted to ask you to ride with me tomorrow. You have not given me the answer I came for. And I must point out that I would not be courting you if I had a paramour. Obviously you think me an utter cad.”
“I did not mean to offend you. I simply cannot believe—”
“That I’m truly courting you. Tell me, Miss Prattley, do you ride?” he asked.
“Horses?”
“Yes.”
“It’s been a while, but yes.”
“Then come riding with me tomorrow and I shall prove that I am indeed courting you.”
With the last of that simple phrase, the hairs at the back of her neck prickled. How she wished she could say yes, but she could not encourage a relationship with this man. Her father would be furious. Richard himself had said that Mr. Middleton was the wrong sort of gentleman—honestly, not a gentleman at all, he’d said—for her to befriend.
“I can assure you, Miss Prattley, I’m not a man who settles for less than what he desires. And I desire you…”
Then he paused as if that was the end of his statement, as if he simply meant to say he desired her.
“…to go riding with me.”
That was the rest of his statement. He didn’t desire her. He was toying with her.
And then she saw him, the pale blond–haired man who strolled into the lobby. Richard. If he saw her with Derrick, he would certainly tell her father.
“I really should get to my seat. I believe the show is going to start directly.”
He held his arm out to her. “I’ll escort you.”
“No!” She practically shrieked the word. “I can manage on my own, thank you.”
Then he followed her gaze and gave a little nod. “I see that Lord Foxmore has arrived. Is that why you’re scur
rying off? You don’t want him to see me with you, do you? Well, he should have secured your engagement, if he didn’t want you with another man.”
“That’s not it at all. And I am not scurrying. I simply like to get to my seat on time.”
“I’ll make a bargain with you—I’ll leave you to your own devices and keep old Richard from seeing us together if you agree to go riding with me.”
She brought her hand to her throat. Richard took a few steps forward and began to scan the room. “Yes, I shall go riding with you.”
“I’ll have someone pick you up tomorrow morning at eight. You do rise that early?”
She nodded.
He placed a kiss on her hand that burned through the glove to her skin, then left her standing in the lobby with not a single thought in her head.
Claudia watched Derrick walk away, then found Richard to see if he looked in her direction. He was engaged in a conversation with a gentleman she did not recognize. Perhaps he hadn’t seen her exchange with Derrick. But he would find out about them riding together. Surely people would see them.
Truth be told, that thought thrilled her. She would be the talk of the town if it became known that dashing rogue Derrick Middleton was courting her. But her father would never approve, and she had Richard to consider. Riding that early should keep her from most of the gossips’ eyes, as most ladies wouldn’t be out until after noon.
She would go riding with him, do her best to remain unseen, then cut her ties with Mr. Middleton. For the time being, she should focus on Richard.
She had a plan for their next meeting. Since Richard insisted on playing the gentleman even this far into their courtship, she would take matters into her own hands and instigate their first kiss. Yes, that would work perfectly.
Once she kissed Richard, she would forget her kiss with Mr. Middleton. No, she wouldn’t, a voice inside her said. No matter if she kissed every man in London, perhaps in England, she’d never forget the way Derrick Middleton’s lips felt melted against hers. Or the way his tongue had moved seductively through her mouth. No, she would never forget that. But kissing Richard might spur him to propose sooner, and the sooner he proposed, the sooner Claudia’s father would cease his badgering.
“So what was that all about?” Poppy’s question startled her out of her reverie.
“Gracious, Poppy, you scared me.”
“What did he want?”
“Who?”
“What’s the matter with you? Mr. Middleton—I saw him here speaking with you only a few moments ago.”
“Oh him. Well, he came to invite me to go riding with him.”
“And?”
“And I accepted. I had no choice,” she added quickly. “He practically blackmailed me.”
“Blackmailed? With what material?” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Have you been holding out on a delicious secret?”
“Of course not.” Except the kiss, but she couldn’t very well tell her that. “It was Richard. I didn’t want him to see us speaking, and Mr. Middleton used it against me. I’m not quite certain why he asked me to go riding with him.”
“Perhaps you’ve captured him with your charms.”
Claudia released an unladylike snort. “That must be it,” she said dryly. “Be serious, Poppy. I’m in a dreadful situation.”
“How is it remotely dreadful when a man that looks and charms like Derrick Middleton is paying attention to you?” Poppy released a tiny shriek and brought her hand to her mouth. “Oh! He’s courting you.”
“Shhh! Not so loud. He is doing no such thing.” Claudia winced and leaned closer to her friend. “He claims that he’s courting me, but it simply cannot be the truth.”
“Why not?”
“Honestly, Poppy. Have you seen him? What on earth would a man like that want with me?”
“There’s no reason why every man on earth wouldn’t want you.”
“You are biased because you are my friend.”
“I am biased and I am your friend, but I’m also being truthful. There is not one single reason I can think of as to why Derrick Middleton or any other man wouldn’t want to court you.”
Claudia opened her mouth to speak, but Poppy cut her off.
“Unless…” Poppy frowned.
“Unless what?” Claudia asked.
“It could be your father.”
“My father? What does my father have to do with anything?”
“Your father isn’t exactly warm and inviting, Claudia. Perhaps men are afraid of him, and that is why Richard is your only suitor.” She raised one finger. “Until now. I think it’s splendid.”
Claudia rolled her eyes. “You would.”
“Nobody said you have to marry him. Although given the choice between Richard and Derrick…Look at it this way, perhaps a little competition will spur Richard into action.”
“Heavens no. I don’t want Richard or anyone else knowing that Mr. Middleton is playing this charade. But I do want to spur Richard into action as you say.”
“How are you going to do that?”
“I’m not certain.”
“I cannot for the life of me understand why Richard is dragging his feet. He has your father’s permission and yours. What is he waiting on?”
“How should I know? Maybe he doesn’t want to marry me.”
“That’s rubbish.”
“The waiting is not sitting well with my father either. I can’t be certain, but I believe he instructed me to seduce Richard.”
“He did no such thing!” Poppy said incredulously.
“I believe that is precisely what he meant when he said, ‘Claudia’—she deepened her voice—‘use what God gave you.’ And when I asked for clarification, he boldly proclaimed, ‘Your womanly wiles.’”
“He said that? ‘Your womanly wiles’?”
Claudia giggled.
“I can’t believe he said that. As far as my father is concerned, I have no womanly wiles,” Poppy said. She made a face and shook her head. “What a horrible conversation to have with one’s father. How embarrassing.”
Embarrassing was right. It had been. Humiliating too. Poppy’s father had it right. He encouraged his daughter to marry, but not in a dishonorable or deceitful way. That’s the way it should be, wasn’t it? Whose father encouraged his daughter to seduce men?
Only hers apparently.
She would try to encourage Richard to propose, but she wouldn’t put herself in a compromising situation to ensnare him. She might not be high on Society’s list of marriageable girls, but she’d rather be a spinster than resort to dishonest tactics to secure a husband.
Chapter 5
Awake at eight indeed. Claudia had been awake since six, if not earlier. Her mind was alert with thoughts of Mr. Middleton’s dashing smile and the things he’d said to her. She’d successfully avoided being seen with him last night, but what of this morning while they rode? Would people not see them in the park? People that she knew?
She scrambled to her feet, then rifled through her closet searching for the perfect bonnet. A hideous bonnet, one so large it was sure to hide her from other riders. She found it below her other hats—it was a tad squished and wrinkled, but a few shakes should take care of that.
It didn’t match her riding habit, but it would have to do.
Perhaps not, but this was a desperate situation. She couldn’t very well break her promise to ride with Mr. Middleton, but she certainly couldn’t parade about with him as if he was actually courting her, and she was allowing it.
If her father ever discovered all the time she’d spent with Mr. Middleton, he would likely ship her off to live in a convent somewhere. Especially since most of that time they’d been alone. And part of that time, they’d kissed.
She was a ruined woman. Richard would wed her thinking she was a complete innocent, which she was not.
Her cheeks burned with the thought. Instead of fantasizing about kissing Derrick, she should turn her torrid thoughts to Richard. Should not a
wife desire her husband? She closed her eyes and gave it a try, but as much as she wanted to think of Richard in that light, there was nothing torrid about him.
She’d never actually entertained torrid thoughts about anyone until that first kiss. Perhaps once she kissed Richard, all feelings for Derrick Middleton would leave her mind forever and be immediately replaced by desire for Richard.
Only part of her actually believed that, but she kept the thought in her mind in an attempt to persuade the rest of her.
She finished tucking her curls into the oversize bonnet. She would have to be careful walking in such a contraption lest she fall over, as it completely hindered her ability to see anywhere but straight ahead. The color, she noted, did match her eyes perfectly, but you couldn’t much see her eyes once the bonnet was in place.
Well, if nothing else, the ridiculousness of this hat would send any suitor in the other direction, so by this afternoon she should be rid of Mr. Middleton and find herself in Richard’s embrace.
She allowed that thought to swim around a bit, trying to warm up to Richard’s arms, but found that when she thought of kissing, only Derrick’s face came to mind. A person needed to take only one glance at Derrick’s lips to know they were created for kissing.
How would she get through the morning looking at said face and lips? Ah, yes, the bonnet—she would simply keep her focus straight ahead and never even notice he sat beside her.
Which is precisely how she should be living her life. Looking straight ahead to Richard instead of her continual dalliances on the side with another man. This was the perfect reminder.
She checked the clock; only fifteen more minutes. Grabbing her reticule, she tiptoed out of her room. She peeked out of the hall window and was pleased to see the day shone brightly with not a cloud in the sky. At least it was a pleasant day for a ride. And she hadn’t been riding in so long.
A black brougham pulled up and stopped. She slipped out of the front door just as Derrick stepped from the carriage. It was a stately carriage, the black so shiny you could see your reflection, and the wheels were apple-red.