Seduction of a Proper Gentleman (Last Man Standing)

by Victoria Alexander

  “I never have been. I am usually quite subtle, even restrained.” He paused. “I hope I have not offended you.”

  “I haven’t decided yet.” She shook her head. “I suppose it depends on whether your…desire?”

  He nodded. “Definitely desire.”

  “Desire it is then. Whether said desire is because you think I am the kind of woman who would indiscriminately surrender to desire.”

  “No, absolutely not,” he said staunchly and heaven help her she believed him. “I don’t think you would indiscriminately surrender to any emotion let alone desire.”

  “I see.” She certainly should be offended if not by his declaration of desire then by his conviction that she would not be swayed by emotion. It was rather unflattering as if she were cold and heartless although he obviously didn’t mean it that way. Regardless, offense would be the proper and appropriate reaction to his comments. Still, it would be much more interesting to see exactly what he intended to do now. “I thought you were not given to the seduction of married women?”

  “Ah, but we don’t know whether or not you are married.” He flashed a wicked smile. “Therefore it would be an act of ignorance which would surely be forgiven.”

  “But never forgotten.”

  “No.” His brow furrowed. “That is a problem.”

  “Once done some things can never be undone.”

  “Yes, I realize that.”

  She tilted her head and studied him. “Then what are you to do, Oliver?”

  “Alas, Kate.” He heaved a heartfelt sigh. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

  She stumbled to a halt and stared at him. “Nothing?”

  “Of course not.” He smiled in an annoyingly casual manner as if he declared his desire for a possibly married woman who didn’t know if indeed she was married every day. “It wouldn’t be the least bit honorable.”

  “Then why say anything at all if you did not intend to do something about it?”

  “Well, I did want to know what your response might be.”

  She raised a brow. “I hope you were not disappointed?”

  “As you did not run screaming into the night nor did you slap my face again, I would say I was not in the least disappointed. Now then shall we continue the dance?”

  “I’m not sure dancing with you is wise,” she murmured but stepped into his arms once again.

  “I’m not sure having anything whatsoever to do with you is wise.”

  “Probably not.”

  “I still don’t understand why you would say something like that to me if you did not intend to do anything about it.”

  “I do not intend to do anything about it.” He paused. “At the moment.”

  “You didn’t say that.”

  “My apologies. It must have slipped my mind. It simply seems to me, Kate, that it might be weeks or even months before you recover your memory and there is a distinct possibility you might never recover it at all.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that.” It was not a pleasant thought.

  “I fully intend to wait for you.”

  “My, that is romantic.”

  “But not forever.”

  “So much for romantic.”

  He stared into her eyes. “There is something about you that calls to something in me. I don’t know if it’s a similarity of character or something as yet undefined but it is…inevitable.”

  A delightful chill ran up her spine. “Inevitable?”

  “You have haunted my thoughts since your arrival in my life. You have lingered in my dreams.” His blue eyes bored into hers. “Call it fate or destiny or forces beyond our control but I have come to wonder if your presence here is not an accident.”

  She swallowed hard. “You have?”

  “And I think you feel it too.” He pulled her slightly closer than was proper for the dance. His voice was low and seductive. “Do you lay awake at night thinking of me? Do you close your eyes only to see my face? Do you relive the moment that our lips touched over and over in your mind until you think you will go mad until we kiss again?”

  Yes! “No, of course not.”

  He smiled a slow, knowing smile. “You’re lying my dear. And in spite of my earlier suspicions, I do not think you do it well.”

  “It’s the adventure, Oliver,” she said, forcing a no-nonsense tone to her voice. It would not do to allow the longing to wrap her arms around him and press her lips firmly to his to show. It would not be wise to let him know she shared his desire. “The mystery if you will. You know nothing about me and that is what you find intriguing.”

  “Oh, but I know a great deal about you.”

  “Certainly you know I can shoot an arrow properly and I am well educated—”

  “I know you wrinkle your nose when you’re annoyed with yourself. I know your laugh is honest and unfettered. I know you straighten your shoulders when you are determined.”

  “Merely observances. I scarcely think—”

  He stopped in mid step and pulled her closer against him, her hand in his trapped against his chest. “I know you are too kind to rebuke an older woman who might be overly interfering. I know when you think no one is looking your eyes show how frightened you are and I know you have the courage to go on nonetheless.” His hand tightened around hers. “And I know when your lips meet mine I feel as though I have never been kissed before.”

  “Oh my.” The words were little more than a sigh.

  “And I know if you had never come into my life I would spend the rest of my days knowing there was something I had missed.”

  “Oliver.” Did it matter so much who she was or whether she was free to return his feelings? Did anything matter save the look in his eyes and the yearning in her heart? Could something that felt so very right possibly be wrong?

  “Kate, mysterious Kate,” he murmured and lowered his lips to hers.

  “Oliver!” A female voice rang out across the ballroom. “We’re here!”

  Chapter 10

  Oliver winced, released Kate, then stepped back.

  Kate drew a calming breath, at once grateful and more than a little disappointed. After all, one never knew when the opportunity to fully abandon one’s rational nature and give in to desire would occur again. She was apparently around thirty years of age and as far as she could remember had only been kissed once. If indeed she was a tart she was—at least at the moment—a fairly frustrated one. Still, nothing of significance would have happened with Oliver’s mother somewhere above them like a heavenly orchestra so the interruption scarcely mattered. It was probably for the best all things considered. Kate adopted a cordial smile and turned toward the voice that had sounded from the steps leading into the ballroom.

  “Aunt Edwina!” A pretty young woman waved at the alcove. Two others, equally pretty, started down the stairs.

  “Prepare yourself, Kate,” Oliver said out of the side of his mouth. “This should be interesting.”

  “Interesting?” Kate kept her gaze on the approaching women. One was slightly taller than the other two and all had dark hair. From this distance, they could have been triplets, the similarity of appearance was so strong. A young man trailed behind them. “They’re your cousins aren’t they?”

  “My darlings!” Lady Norcroft called from above. “You’re early. How delightful. I’ll be down in a moment. I have a great deal to tell you.”

  “Cousins in name only,” he said dryly. “In truth, since their arrival this past Christmas, they have become the sisters I never had. I find myself in the position of being a responsible brother to three girls in their first season and I must say it’s not the least bit enjoyable.”

  “I don’t have a brother,” Kate murmured then widened her eyes. “Or a sister either for that matter. Oliver, I remember that!”

  He nodded. “Your life is coming back to you.”

  “I haven’t recalled anything new for days. Not since I realized my parents were dead.” She shook her head. “Apparently I don’t have th
ese revelations unless I am with you.”

  He grinned. “Then I shall consider it my duty to be with you as much as possible.”

  “How gallant of you,” she said lightly. As beneficial as that might be for her memory, it might not be wise for her heart. A minute ago she had been ready to toss caution aside and surrender to her feelings. Who knew what might happen with more time spent in Oliver’s company.

  “Oliver!” The tallest girl flung her arms around him followed in quick succession by her sisters in a flurry of hugs and greetings and chatter. Aside from one being a few inches taller than the others, with their dark hair and deep brown eyes, there was no mistaking a family resemblance.

  “Gen.” Oliver disentangled her arms from around his neck and set her gently aside then turned to Kate. “Kate, may I present my cousins—”

  “Cousins by marriage,” the taller girl—Gen—said. “Oliver’s father’s sister was married to our father before he married our mother. Our older sister is Oliver’s cousin by blood but there’s really no blood connection between the rest of us and Oliver at all.”

  “And yet we are family all the same,” Oliver said firmly and Kate had the distinct feeling that one—if not all—of the girls would have been more than willing to overlook the tenuous family connection in favor of a union with the handsome earl himself. “Kate, this is Miss Genevieve Fairchild. Gen is the oldest.”

  Genevieve’s gaze flicked over Kate in an assessing manner. “Is that my dress?”

  “It is and I am most grateful for the loan of it,” Kate said quickly. “I find myself in the awkward position of having misplaced my luggage.”

  “Oh we know about that,” one of the other girls said. She and the remaining sister were obviously twins. “Hollinger told us all about you.”

  A long-suffering expression washed across Oliver’s face. “And this is Miss Arabella Fairchild.”

  “But you may call her Belle,” the third girl said. “And I am Sophia, Sophie. I must say that dress looks much better on you than it ever did on Gen. You should keep it.”

  “Oh, I don’t think—” Kate began.

  “It is my dress,” Gen said sharply, then sighed. “But she’s right.” She cast Kate a half-hearted smile. “It does look lovely on you.”

  Sophie hooked her arm through Kate’s. “We can’t tell you how exciting we think this is.” She glanced at Oliver. “We’re not interrupting are we?”

  Oliver slanted Kate an apologetic look. “No, of course not.”

  “Good.” Sophie beamed at Kate. “You must come along now and tell us all about it.”

  “I don’t know that there’s much—” Kate started.

  “We’re beside ourselves with curiosity and we want to know everything. Everything you know that is.” Belle linked Kate’s other arm and at once she felt surrounded and distinctly outnumbered. “We think it’s all terribly romantic. Like a good novel. A beautiful woman of mystery and a handsome earl who is obviously swept—”

  “Hollinger talks a great deal doesn’t he?” Oliver interrupted.

  Gen grinned. “You’d be surprised at the things Hollinger knows.”

  “I’d be surprised if there was something he didn’t know.” He nodded at the younger girls. “There’ll be plenty of time to speak to Kate. For now, I suggest you release her.”

  Reluctantly, the girls let go. Kate smiled. “I promise we shall all have a long talk tomorrow.”

  “A-hem.” The young man Kate had noted earlier cleared his throat. He stood behind the girls, ignored and more than likely forgotten. Fair-haired and handsome, he appeared to be in his mid-twenties and did not look like the kind of man any girl would forget for long.

  “Who,” Oliver’s eyes narrowed. “Are you?”

  He stepped forward. “Emerson Berkley, sir.”

  “He’s the youngest son of Viscount Berkley.” A note of satisfaction sounded in Gen’s voice.

  “I believe you know my brother, sir. Marcus Berkley?” Mr. Berkley said hopefully.

  “Marcus Berkley.” Oliver nodded. “I have made his acquaintance. Good sort if I recall.”

  Relief washed across the younger Berkley’s face. “Thank you, sir.”

  “Mr. Berkley was in attendance at the Roxborough Ride at Effington Hall.” Gen favored the young man with an admiring smile. “He sits a horse exceptionally well.”

  Mr. Berkley grinned with barely concealed pride.

  “The Ride is a steeplechase of sorts,” Sophie said to Kate. “A huge crowd of people attends. Festivities go on for days. There are all sorts of parties including a grand ball—”

  “And there are lots and lots of dashing young men,” Belle added with a twinkle in her eye. “It was quite the most fun we’ve ever had.”

  “I invited Mr. Berkley to stay with us.” Gen turned a challenging look on her cousin. “I knew Aunt Edwina wouldn’t mind.”

  “I could certainly stay at an inn, sir,” Mr. Berkley said quickly.

  “I suppose we can make room for him in the stables,” Oliver muttered.

  “Don’t be absurd.” Lady Norcroft joined them. “There is more than enough room in the manor. Besides, with all these women in the house, it will be good for you to have a male ally.”

  “Aunt Edwina!” The girls threw themselves into the older woman’s arms and there was a repeat of their greeting of Oliver with even more enthusiasm if possible and all four ladies talking at once. Poor Mr. Berkley was left to look on with an awkward smile on his face.

  Oliver pulled Kate a few steps away, leaned close to her ear, and spoke in a low voice. “I don’t like this.”

  Kate laughed. “Why on earth not? He seems a nice enough young man.”

  “Gen is only nineteen,” Oliver said in a grim manner. “She has an excellent dowry and would be a prime target for any unscrupulous man looking for an heiress.”

  “He doesn’t appear to be impoverished.”

  “No, as far as I know his family’s fortune is sound.”

  Kate raised a brow. “Are his relations disreputable then? Was their fortune gained through nefarious and unscrupulous means?”

  “Quite the contrary.” Reluctance sounded in Oliver’s voice.

  “Have you heard gossip about the young man that leads you to believe he is a dishonorable sort?”

  “No. I’m not sure I’ve ever heard his name before.”

  Kate studied Mr. Berkley now being introduced to Oliver’s mother. “Then do you consider nineteen too young to wed?”

  He clenched his teeth. “Probably not.”

  “Perhaps you do not like the gentleman himself.” The young man kissed Lady Norcroft’s hand in a most gallant manner. “He seems quite charming and he’s certainly handsome enough.”

  “Too handsome,” Oliver said darkly as if the fact of his handsome face was not a gift from God but rather a calculated means by which to seduce young, impressionable girls.

  “Certainly as their guardian you have every right—”

  “Oh, I’m not their guardian. Actually as Gen is nineteen and the twins are eighteen they are all of age. But their sister, Fiona, she’s the future Duchess of Roxborough, is in control of their inheritance—dowries really—until they wed. However, they live in my home and as the head of this family, assuring their well-being and more importantly, their futures, is dependent upon me,” he said staunchly.

  “I see.” So even though Oliver had no true obligation to the Fairchild girls he considered them his responsibility. His mother was right. He was a good man. “I think, Oliver, I shall retire for the evening and leave you to enjoy this reunion without me.”

  “So soon?” He gazed down at her. “But we haven’t…”

  “We haven’t what?”

  He paused for a moment then grimaced. “Our dance. We haven’t finished our dance.”

  “That’s exactly what I was thinking.” She offered her hand and he raised it to his lips. “Perhaps tomorrow.”

  “Until tomorrow then.” His ga
ze met hers. “Remember, we should be together as much as possible.”

  She nodded. “To help restore my memory.”

  He grinned in an altogether unrepentant manner. “That too.” His lips brushed across her hand and it was all she could do not to wrap her arms around him and kiss him in a thorough and passionate manner. And be kissed quite thoroughly in return. A mistake, no doubt, but a glorious one.

  Kate bid the rest of the gathering good evening and although it was difficult to extricate herself from their overly enthusiastic inclusion, finally managed to escape to the calm of her rooms.

  All in all, it had been a most illuminating evening. She had realized she had no brothers or sisters. She had seen firsthand Oliver’s sense of responsibility and generosity. And she had very nearly lost her head which certainly could not happen again. If she were married—and surely as she had remembered her lack of parents and siblings she should by now remember something as important as a husband—she knew enough about herself now and enough about Oliver to understand betrayal would be one thing neither of them could forgive. She had said it earlier—once done some things could never be undone. It bore repeating.

  Still, as she settled into bed his words lingered in her head like a song she could not forget.

  Do you relive the moment that our lips touched over and over in your mind until you think you will go mad until we kiss again?

  Nonsense. Certainly the kiss they had shared was quite nice. More than merely nice but it was simply a kiss after all. The denial of which would not lead to insanity.

  Do you close your eyes only to see my face?

  Only because she was thinking about seeing his face. It was exactly like when one was told not to think about elephants and then the only thing one could think about was elephants.

  Do you lay awake at night thinking of me?

  She clenched her fists by her side and tried to think of anything but him. And in the long hours that she tossed and turned and waited for sleep her one satisfaction was in the sure and certain knowledge that, more than likely, Oliver would sleep no better than she.