by Addison Cain
Focusing on Edmund, seeing he was pleased with how well she’d performed, she admired his bow. She curtsied in response, and her first dance ended as a success.
Smiling beautifully, glad it had gone well, Arabella thanked him. “Mr. Jenkins. I am very grateful to you for your patience. And you, Mr. Harrow,” her eyes took in the arrogance, the dark smirk of the tyrant, “for the entertainment.”
Edmund offered an elbow. “Shall I escort you to the card room now, your ladyship?”
“That would be lovely.” Tucking her arm through his, they turned their backs on the spiteful duo and left the floor.
Mrs. Jenkins intercepted their path, eager to claim the baroness in a situation where she might make proper introduction to the neighborhood’s grander ladies. Trapped in the hall making small talk, dances came and went, Lilly elegant and coveted as a partner, and Lizzy enjoying the fun as well.
She was constantly surrounded by a slew of women, for Edmund, always a gentleman, had a duty to dance if there was a young lady in hopes of joining the set. Mr. Harrow, on the other hand, did not follow protocol. In fact, he spent the better part of an hour glaring at Arabella from across the room with all the charm of Lucifer.
Once Edmund thought to break from the dancing, the instant he took a step toward Arabella, Mr. Harrow was hard on his heels.
The eldest Jenkins sister was thrilled. “Mr. Harrow,” Lilly preened, certain he had come to claim another dance. “You seem well pleased with yourself tonight.”
Black eyes deigned to glance down at the glowing young lady. “Looks can be deceiving. In fact, tonight I feel utterly antagonized.”
“Is that why you have not danced again?” Lilly teased. “It cannot be for lack of a partner, as there are several young ladies in attendance.”
Snide, he scanned the room and answered. “Yes, and all very sweet in their pale dresses.”
Oblivious to the flat tenor of his mocking, Lilly pouted prettily. “Then what displeases you?”
Looking back to the angelic faced woman, he smiled brilliantly. “I find myself in want of a waltz...”
The listening ladies all tittered at the thought. All save Arabella.
Excited, Lilly spoke behind her fan. “You know they would never play one at a public assembly. It would be scandalous.”
“And would that not make it all the more fun?”
The master of ceremonies called out the next dance and the room went quiet.
“Ahhh.” Gregory Harrow’s smile became predatory. “What are the odds?”
Lilly began to blush, looking up with eager eyes, broadcasting the only way she could that he could have her at one word. But dark eyes left her face, and with a hand reaching forward, Gregory demanded the attention of another, “Lady Iliffe, shall we?”
Astounded, Arabella declined. “You know I do not know how.”
Utterly arrogant, Gregory announced in a conspirator’s whisper, “Actually, I know better than anyone that you do.” Vicious eyes flashed and all pretense of a smile left his face. “And you will.”
Glancing to the area cleared for dancing, Arabella was surprising to see how many couples willingly began to muster. Impatient, Mr. Harrow took her fingers, pulling the baroness past the aghast and horribly disappointed Lilly.
“I cannot do this.” Arabella was horrified when he placed them at the center of the melee.
Gregory already had his hands at her waist and yanked her closer, a possessive gaze silencing pointless complaints. Positioning her at his hip, he growled in approval as her hand slipped around his back in a mimic of what she had seen before. “Did you really think you would not be punished for dancing with the simpleton?”
“I will dance with whomever I please.” Quiet as she might, she snarled, pretending dignity with so many watching her.
The music began, his touch firm as he led her. “Then, should I dislike it, prepare for the consequences.”
In a nasty hiss, she countered, “You cannot be so ridiculous. I didn’t want to dance with him any more than I wish to do so with you, you tyrant. There was no getting out of it.”
He turned her and when they were practically chest to chest, her hands trapped behind her, he secretly ran his thumb against the small of her back, breathing over her lips. “Am I to ask your pardon?”
Green eyes flashed. “Yes.”
“Are you aware that by dancing with only one gentleman, you have broadcasted your favor for Mr. Jenkins?” His hand became bolder, tracing over her rear as if by accident. “I find that unacceptable. How else shall I punish you? Shall I pull you into a dark corner, White Woman?”
Before she could stop herself, the anger left her expression, unwelcome suspicion taking its place. “Your threats are grating upon my nerves, Mr. Harrow.”
“Ahhh, but they certainly tame you.” Their form changed, his hands lingering over her abdomen or running down the length of her arm as he expertly drew her into a complicated entanglement of limbs.
Unwilling to be as foolish as Lilly, Arabella ignored the obvious seduction and long caresses, glaring so he might know she was immune.
Grumbling when he didn’t get his way, he spoke words only for her. “Where is the Imp who called out my name in passion, who begged me for more?”
“Perhaps, she came to her senses over the last seven days.”
“Little liar...” He smirked and leaned nearer. “I can see your wounded feelings hidden under so much pretense. Was it unpleasant watching me enrapture the trite Miss Jenkins? I can continue... shall that be the punishment you’ve earned?”
“You have such a talent for reminding me why I dislike your company.”
“Shall I do penance for my ways?” He spun her until her back was to his chest and their lips only a hairsbreadth apart. “Would that please you, Imp?”
Those sculpted lips, that had felt so good all over her body, pressed into a line of annoyance when she refused to answer. “Well?”
With a desperate look in her eye, she answered. “Yes, if I thought you were capable of it.”
He spun her into another figure, which placed her thigh against his leg. Smiling like a snake, soft words poured from a troublesome man. “I am mildly pacified when you are near. I do try.”
She shook her head and began to frown, eyes searching his to see if he was sincere in his threat toward Lilly. “Then take it back. Promise me you would never do something so evil to Miss Jenkins.”
“It would be a lie. But I would lie to you to hold your attention.”
She stood on her toes to reach as close to his great height as she could. “I—”
“Are you going to tell me you loathe me now, Imp?” The way his smile grew it was as if he wanted those words from her—wanted her to remember the first time she’d spoken them to him.
Every sensation in her body warned her to walk away, go out the door and never see him again.
The music ended and Gregory looked almost tender. “Is it not kinder that I tell you now? Your weakness is your goodness, and I would twist it to have my way.”
Arabella grew desolate. “What is it that you want?”
“Hush, my love,” he brushed the back of his fingers down her arm. “I only wanted our dance.”
Mr. Harrow, following protocol, thought to lead her through the crowd, but Arabella’s hand shot out and she gripped his wrist fiercely in the press. With an expression dripping with the darker parts of her spirit, she beckoned him closer.
Leaning down with that handsome leer twisted up, he offered an ear so she could be heard over the murmuring horde seeking the dining room. “Gregory, you have greatly misjudged whatever strange liaison you believe existed between us. More importantly, you overestimate my tie to the heath. If you threaten me again, or threaten her, I will see to it that should I choose to uproot my life again, I will ruin yours first.”
He straightened, the previous arrogant expression erased. Standing solemn, he scowled greatly. “Do not say such things.”
> Roused and honest in her threat, she pulled her lips from her teeth. “Do not make me say such things.”
A long, unpleasant examination of her expression did not appease him. Pulling her arm through his elbow, Gregory tugged Arabella forward, cutting the line of couples waiting to enter the dining hall.
The baroness took precedence, was first to be called forward by rule that her last dance partner would accompany her at the meal. Of course, Gregory had accounted for it. She would be forced to sit with him, to be seen at his side.
Glowing sconces reflected off the white paneling of the walls, an illusion of openness in the long room. Arabella saw none of it as he took her to a distant table. Silence continued between them even when seated, Arabella frowning while stripping white leather gloves from her fingers.
Where she was formal, and clearly agitated, he lounged in his chair, resentful as he watched her every move. As one of the wealthier families of the neighborhood, the Jenkinses were close on their heels, foolish enough to join the agitated couple’s table.
Lizzy was grinning ear to ear. “Well, the neighborhood has been properly scandalized. Half the room stood up for what I am sure will be remembered as an infamous waltz.”
Trying to meet her friend’s enthusiasm, Arabella asked, “Did you stand up with a gentleman?”
“Don’t be silly. Mama would have fallen over had anyone asked, especially as Lilly was unpartnered. Besides it was far more entertaining watching you... well the little we could see of you through the crush.”
Mr. Harrow sneered and sipped his wine. “And what did you think of Lady Iliffe’s skill?”
“What fine partners you were. It was impossible to look away. The intensity and focus... I feel I cannot believe you when you say you have never waltzed before, Lady Iliffe.”
“She does not lie, Miss Lizzy.” That dark smiling charm was back in place, Mr. Harrow ignoring the pouting Lilly sitting across from him. “But knowing her, I was certain she would have little trouble with the steps... or the banter.”
Scoffing, Lilly ran hazel eyes over her rival. “You make it sound as if you were old acquaintances, Mr. Harrow.”
“No.” Mr. Harrow shook his head and pursed his lips as if deep in thought. “But I know Lady Iliffe quite well. Well enough to admit anything she says about me should be taken very seriously. She knows just what a devil I am.”
His acknowledgement of his ill intent made Arabella finally cut him a glance.
Grinning wickedly over his wine glass, Gregory looked at Lilly and Edmund. “And the neighborhood, no doubt, will be a much more pleasant place for the unworthy rabble now that she is here to curb me and champion fools.”
“You are such a tease, Mr. Harrow,” Mrs. Jenkins chuckled, smiling as if in on the joke.
Edmund thought to change the tone, addressing the unsmiling baroness. “Which dance did you prefer, Lady Iliffe?”
Arabella made a wry face. “The minuet had the interaction of more people and friendly conversation. It seemed a more sociable dance.”
“And our waltz?” Dark eyes glittered, Mr. Harrow petulant and playful.
Dry as dust, Arabella spoke the truth. “Would have been nicer had you spoken less.”
Gregory began to laugh. Grinning madly, he added for good measure, “Then it is a shame I bribed the Master of Ceremonies such a fortune to call it.”
Lizzy and Mrs. Jenkins began to giggle, Edmund appeared annoyed, and Lilly glared, downright murderous.
But it was the hint of amusement in emerald eyes that had Mr. Harrow’s undivided attention. “See, Lady Iliffe, I may be a tyrant, but I do make some effort now and then.”
Cocking a brow, she challenged, “Effort to what exactly?”
“My initial intentions were good.”
It was her turn to snicker, she could not stop herself. “I think you have never been taught what that phrase means. Your goal was to wreak havoc.”
Under the table, he bumped her foot, hooking her ankle to drag it closer. “That was not my goal... merely an unfortunate side effect of my temper.”
“Did you quarrel with Lady Iliffe as you danced?” Edmund asked, frowning to hear the lady was unhappy.
For a moment, Gregory’s eyes only for Arabella, he answered, “And I lost.” Glancing across the table towards Lilly, he gave a small nod. “It might have been better had I asked you to dance and trusted the baroness to your brother.”
When not another word or offer was made, Mrs. Jenkins spoke on behalf of her daughter. “Once the refreshments have concluded, there are still several dances, Mr. Harrow.”
“Your noblewoman tells you I’m to be censured and you still find me acceptable as a partner to your daughter? You must be a saint, Mrs. Jenkins.”
Unsure what to say at such a remark, unsure if Mr. Harrow was teasing, Lilly’s mama smiled.
“Then again we all deserve a chance at redemption, do we not? And I did promise Lady Iliffe that I would try to be virtuous.” The shining leather of Gregory’s boots caressed the stocking encased ankle of his prey under the table. Arabella attempted to disengage, but he followed her retreat until contact was reestablished, yanking her foot closer. “So I must be given another chance must I not?”
Lilly lowered her lashes provocatively. “Who shall be your redeemer?”
“Well, you certainly have the look of an angel.” With a smile that faded to boredom, Gregory added, “The very appearance of goodness.”
Blushing prettily, Lilly smiled, demure and pleased by the compliment. “You are too kind, sir.”
“I am.” He took a long drink of wine and did not say another word.
Chapter 13
A fter their argument at the Assembly, Gregory had come to her bedchamber. He’d shared Arabella’s bed the five nights since, slipping in and out unseen, few words spoken between them. Her behavior was reckless, she knew that, but she did nothing to stop him. Age-old fear seemed muted when strong arms were around her.
Sleep became a friend again.
Even knowing what Harrow was, in the dark, in the quiet, she let herself feel peace. She indulged, a glutton for it, having forgotten the sensation.
Every night she received him between her legs. Every night he covered her mouth with his palm when that twisting pleasure tore through her. He stifled all her screams... whether fostered by his touch or by the occasional nightmare.
Gregory kept her to himself in the dark.
Come morning, he was gone and her daylight hours continued as if he had never been there. She wandered the moors alone, played the baroness when the parson came to tutor Hugh, took meals with the household, and brooded over letters from Solicitor Griggs.
It was a visit to the Jenkins family that finally unsettled the false serenity she’d deluded herself with.
Sitting in their fine parlor, taking tea, Arabella grew apprehensive when Gregory did not appear. She found she could hardly concentrate. Having assured herself that the man’s habit of arriving when she was there would force his figure out of every dark corner.
Gregory would retaliate; he would be his horrible self. But he never came.
“Are you unwell, your ladyship?”
Blinking, looking at the fair gentleman across the settee, Arabella forced a smile. “I am leaving for town tomorrow. Preparations for the journey have taken up a corner of my mind.”
Lizzy was openly troubled. “You are not thinking of leaving for the winter, are you?”
“No.” Arabella shook her head. “It is only an unavoidable visit. I hope to return as soon as possible.”
Appeased, even a little envious, Lizzy asked, “Visiting friends?”
The baroness set her teacup aside and remained unsmiling. “I am going to court.”
“You are going to court?” Lilly hardly spoke when Arabella called, but it seemed the girl’s tongue ran before her thoughts—and what a jealous tongue it was.
Arabella had no excitement for her upcoming trip. “I will write you all abou
t it, should you like.”
Lilly did not want to say yes, but it was clear she was eager for news of such things. “That would be lovely.”
Arabella smiled, hoping they might find some common ground in the gesture.
It was all wiped away a moment later when the pretty brunette began speaking of the wonderful afternoon they had all spent the day prior with Mr. Harrow. “You really should apologize to him, Lady Iliffe,” Lilly said, demure and sly. “He is very influential, and it is clear your behavior to him has affected his opinion. He looked positively irritated when your name came up in conversation.”
Arabella knew it would be pointless to argue with a girl so besotted. “As he is my landlord, I suppose I must agree with you... unless, of course, I should take another house.”
Imperious, Lilly replied, “He owns almost the entire county. You would not be able to find one.”
“Enlighten me, Miss Lilly.” Arabella met doe eyes with a direct gaze. “What do you find agreeable in the man?”
Lilly blushed, but before she could speak her younger sister Lizzy jumped in teasing. “His fortune.”
Arabella would not laugh at her, not when she was certain Lilly had no idea of the man she truly admired. “Do not taunt your sister, Lizzy.”
Glaring daggers at her loudmouthed sibling, Lilly listed her reasons for adoration. “Mr. Harrow is handsome and intelligent, has polished manners. He is a fine dancer.”
“Do you find him kind?” Arabella asked.
“When you are not around to bait his temper, yes.”
So there it was... everything, of course, was her fault.
“He had such news from London.”
That didn’t make any sense. “London?”
Lilly angled to cut. “Yes, London. Mr. Harrow went on business and returned in time for last week’s Assembly.”
Is that where he’d been? Is that why he had not come to her all those nights? Watching Lilly preen, Arabella understood the girl had been waiting for him, expecting him that night she’d taken such pains to be so very beautiful.