Seduction of a Proper Gentleman (Last Man Standing)

by Victoria Alexander

  Kathleen tried not to let the panic surging within her show on her face. This was not the moment to panic. There would be time enough for that later. Besides, if Lady Norcroft knew who Kathleen was then it did sound as though she would be an ally. “Perhaps you would be so good as to share that with me.”

  “As to who you are, you, my dear, are the answer to my prayers.”

  “Your prayers?” Kathleen said slowly.

  “Absolutely. I cannot tell you how long I have waited for my son to look at a woman the way he looks at you.”

  “But you said a match five hundred years in the making.”

  “Did I?” The older woman waved off the comment. “How very clever of me. It was an exaggeration of course. One of those things one says, the first thing that popped into my head. I must have heard it somewhere. I could have as easily said thousands of years in the making or centuries in the making or eons in the making.”

  Kathleen released a small breath of relief. That Lady Norcroft had used the same phrase her grandmother had used over and over again was no more than a coincidence. An odd coincidence but surely a coincidence nonetheless.

  “There are no coincidences you know,” the older woman said as if she had read Kathleen’s thoughts. “In truth, it’s been no more than the last few years that I have been waiting for Oliver to find the right match. It simply seems longer. And now, from out of nowhere, here you are. It’s enough to make one believe in, well, magic.”

  Kathleen swallowed hard. “Magic?”

  “Magic.” Lady Norcroft nodded firmly. “Do you believe in magic my dear?

  “Do I—”

  “No, never mind. What a silly thing for me to ask and I believe this is the second time I’ve asked. It must be on my mind, I have no idea why. You couldn’t possibly remember something like that. It’s not one of those things that is readily apparent like the color of your hair or that you have resided in Scotland.”

  “No, of course not.”

  “I know you are worried about what might happen when you regain your memory. You needn’t be.” Lady Norcroft rose to her feet. “There are all sorts of magic in the world to believe in, Kate. Much of it is utter nonsense although most amusing nonetheless. Spells and curses and the like. But the magic to be found between a man and a woman, that magic, my dear, is real.”

  Kathleen stood. “How can it be if it’s predicated on deceit?”

  “There are as many kinds of deceit as there are magic. Why, it’s not at all uncommon to lie to a loved one to keep them safe or protected. Then there is”—she thought for a moment—“unintended deceit.”

  Kathleen drew her brows together. “Unintended deceit.”

  “Yes indeed. You can’t deceive someone if you don’t know that you are deceiving them.”

  “You can’t?”

  “Intent, my dear, it all comes down to intent.”

  “The distinction is rather fine isn’t it?”

  “But is a distinction nonetheless. Aside from that, there are times when one has to do wrong in order to accomplish a greater good. Sometimes one has to do what one must.” Lady Norcroft paused, then chose her words with care. “If Oliver is truly what you want, and I am confident he feels the same about you, then you must do whatever you think is necessary. As women we have any number of excellent methods of doing just that.”

  Kathleen widened her eyes. “Do we?”

  Lady Norcroft chuckled. “We do indeed.” She started toward the door then paused and reached into a pocket in her skirt. “My apologies.” She pulled Kathleen’s bracelet out of her pocket. “I forgot to return this to you. I found the charm most interesting.” She put the bracelet in Kathleen’s hand and closed the younger woman’s hand around it. “It took me a while to decipher it. It was quite enlightening and most appropriate.” She opened the door. “Will you be joining us?”

  “I’ll be right down.” Kathleen met the older woman’s gaze. “I cannot tell you how grateful I am for, well, you.”

  “It is I who am grateful.” Lady Norcroft smiled and took her leave.

  Kathleen stared at the door. Surely she was mistaken but it very much sounded as though Oliver’s mother had just given her permission to pursue her son with whatever means necessary. Not that she actually had means. She didn’t even have her own clothes. And it wasn’t as if she could seduce him into marriage. While she hadn’t been with a man since her husband’s death, she was certainly not an innocent whose family could demand marriage after seduction.

  Oliver might well want nothing to do with her when he knew the truth. Certainly, she hadn’t deceived him up until now but would he believe that? If the situation was reversed, she would be hard pressed to believe him. Besides, while she was confident of her feelings for him, his feelings might well have more to do with the mystery surrounding her, the adventure of her situation, than anything else. Add to that the fact that she was forbidden fruit given their uncertainty about her marital state and whatever feelings Oliver might now have could well vanish with the truth. Men very often only wanted that which they couldn’t have.

  Very well then. Without thinking, she squared her shoulders. She had no idea what might happen once Oliver knew everything but she was not about to spend the rest of her days wondering what might have been. She had fallen in love with him when she couldn’t remember the curse or her own name. Love had not been her intention. Indeed, she had never given it so much as a second thought. She would be a fool if she passed up the chance to once again know the touch of a man she loved. Finding love once was hard enough, twice in one lifetime was something of a miracle. And love might well never come again.

  Oliver was not the sort of man to agree to anything as permanent as marriage to satisfy a barely remembered curse. But he was the sort of man to give into his desires, to accept something freely offered.

  Her hand tightened around the bracelet and its circular charm dug into her palm. She didn’t need to read it to know what was engraved on its face. And, God help her, while she had never especially accepted it in the past she did now.

  Extremis malis, extrema remedia.

  Chapter 14

  This was absurd.

  Oliver threw off the bedcovers and slid out of bed. If he wasn’t going to sleep, it was pointless to lay here hour after hour staring into the dark. Tossing and turning. Wanting Kate.

  He stumbled across the room, fumbled for a match and lit the lamp. This wasn’t the first night since her arrival that Oliver had been unable to sleep but tonight was the worst. It was nearly dawn and he hadn’t so much as closed his eyes. He found his dressing gown and shrugged it on over his nightshirt.

  He was going mad and there didn’t seem to be anything he could do to prevent it. His mother, and the rest of the household, was busy with preparations for tomorrow’s ball which meant his newfound realization of his responsibilities in regards to his cousins had effectively halted any effort on his part to be alone with Kate. After all, if he managed to be alone with her, it was more than likely Gen would manage to be alone with Berkley. And Berkley reminded him far too much of himself and his friends at that age to be trusted.

  He and Kate hadn’t been alone since she had joined him in the library yesterday morning and, blast it all, he missed her. Not that he hadn’t been in her company along with everyone else. But exchanging glances with her over the dinner table or watching her listen to the twins play the piano last night or hearing her laugh during a rousing game of croquet this afternoon had been more frustrating than satisfying. And only increased his longing to take her in his arms.

  Damn it all, things like this were not supposed to happen to him. Never had he felt so helpless, so at the hands of forces beyond his control. His life had always been…expected. Yes, that was the right word for it. He expected that certain things would happen at certain times. He expected that his estate manager would do a good job. That Hollinger, his valet, Cook and the rest of the staff would perform their duties with efficiency and a minimum
of fuss. That his friends would have adventures that he would not. And he had always expected that someday he would meet the right woman in an entirely expected manner.

  He certainly never expected that she would arrive unconscious without knowing so much as her own name.

  Not that he was sure Kate was the right woman. How could he possibly be sure at this point? But there had been something inevitable about her from the moment she’d first opened her eyes. Still, he’d reserve that decision until he knew if a life with her was possible. If his heart hadn’t already made the decision for him. Admittedly, it was fear that held him back. Fear, more than likely, of the unexpected.

  He had to do something, take action of some sort. He was not at all used to not doing anything when a situation arose. This waiting for her memory to come back, or worse, a husband to show up, was driving him mad.

  He crossed the room to a conveniently placed decanter of brandy. It had first appeared in his room the night his cousins had arrived. He had to remember to thank Hollinger for that but then again, he expected Hollinger to know what he needed before he knew himself. Oliver poured a glass and took a long swallow.

  What could he do? It hadn’t appeared necessary at first to do anything at all. Even the doctor had said Kate’s memory could return at any minute. But one day had become two and then four and now more than a week had passed. A week in which he found himself growing closer and closer to a woman he knew hardly anything about.

  No, that wasn’t entirely true. He sipped at the brandy. He knew a great deal about her, about the kind of woman she was. What he didn’t know were the details of her life. Those significant as well as inconsequential details that make a person who she is. He might not know the details but he had every confidence he knew the woman.

  He tossed back the rest of his drink, refilled his glass and sat down at the secretary he occasionally used for middle-of-the-night correspondence. He grabbed a piece of stationery, pen and ink. He’d write to his solicitor and direct him to hire an investigator to find out who Kate was. He should have done this when she’d first arrived but it hadn’t seemed as urgent as it was now. Admittedly, it wasn’t much but it was the only thing he could think of to do and he was bloody well tired of not doing anything.

  A soft tapping sounded at his door.

  Who on earth would be at his room in the middle of the night? He pushed away from the desk, strode to the door and pulled it open.

  Kate stood in the doorway, her fist poised to knock again. “I saw your light under the door. May I come in?”

  Her dark red hair was loose and disheveled and hung past her shoulders. She looked like a vision in the night. Something from his dreams. His heart thudded in his chest and he resisted the urge to pull her into his arms. Instead he stepped back. “Yes, of course.”

  She walked into his room and he closed the door behind her. It wouldn’t do to have anyone else who might be awake wander past his open door and see Kate. It would be most improper and nothing short of scandalous. And a very bad example.

  “I find I am far too restless to sleep.” Her gaze moved from his bed to the secretary. “I gather you couldn’t sleep either?”

  “I haven’t slept well in days,” he muttered.

  She raised a brow.

  “Nearly a week.”

  “We seem to share a common ailment.” She glanced at the brandy decanter. “Only one glass?”

  “I was not expecting visitors.”

  “Good.” She cast him a private sort of smile and his heart tripped. “I would hate to be expected.”

  Nothing about you is expected. “I could call for another glass,” he said quickly and moved toward the bell pull in the corner.

  “At this hour? Don’t be silly. That would be most inconvenient for your staff. Besides, it might well awaken other members of the household, which would be terribly rude and not the least bit appreciated.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that.” Nor could he think of anything the least bit sensible at the moment but what man could? He crossed the room as much to avoid staring at her as to pick up his glass.

  Kate wore a wrapper over nightclothes obviously borrowed from Gen. Eminently proper and unquestionably virginal, they were fashioned from yards of a fine white material. The sleeves were full and flowing and reached past her wrists, the neck of the nightgown beneath the wrapper stretched to just under her chin. There was not so much as an indiscreet hint of skin exposed. Even so, when she passed in front of the light, there was little left unrevealed. He grabbed his glass and tossed back the contents. “What are you doing here?”

  Her brow furrowed. “That’s not exactly the greeting I expected.”

  “One doesn’t always get what one expects,” he muttered.

  Her eyes widened. “Am I not welcome then?”

  “Always.” He refilled his glass. “But you haven’t answered my question. Why are you here?”

  She shrugged in a casual manner as if they were at a public gathering and not the intimate setting of his private rooms. “I have missed you, Oliver.”

  “Nonsense.” He scoffed. “You have seen me every day.”

  “I’ve missed sharing a private word with you then.” She meandered around the perimeter of his room. “Are you not pleased to see me?”

  In a moment, it would be obvious just how glad to see her he was. “I am always pleased to see you.”

  She moved to him, took his glass from his hand, and took a long sip of the brandy. “This is very good.”

  “It’s quite potent.” He stared down at her and tried to ignore how close to him she stood. Entirely improper, and damn near irresistible. “And extremely dangerous.”

  “Dangerous?” She gazed up at him in an altogether too seductive way. “I rather like that.”

  “Brandy muddles the mind,” he said staunchly then winced to himself at the stuffy tone of his voice.

  She bit back a smile. “And yet my mind is clear.” She took another sip. “Extremely clear.” She put the glass back in his hand. “I quite know what I’m doing.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “What are you doing?”

  She laughed. “Goodness, Oliver, I should think that would be obvious.”

  “Not entirely,” he said under his breath, moved away from her and again filled his glass. “What is obvious to me is that you shouldn’t be here at this time of night. Alone. Dressed like that.”

  “This is what all proper young ladies wear.” She glanced down at her gown. “Although your cousins would tell you I am not especially young and I suspect I am not overly proper.”

  “You’re not?”

  “Not at the moment.” Her gaze met his. She untied her wrapper, shrugged it off, and let it fall to the floor.

  There may well have been fabric covering every inch of her but he could see the outlines of her nipples and the dark shadow at the juncture of her thighs. Kate enveloped in acres of virginal white might well be the most exciting thing he had ever seen. He took a bracing pull of the brandy.

  Her glaze slid down his body. “My, you are glad to see me.”

  “You should know, Kate…”

  “What?” She took his glass, downed the contents, then placed the empty glass on a chest of drawers.

  “I have never been good at…”

  “I suspect.” She moved close, rested her hands on his chest and gazed up at him. “There are any number of things that you are very good at.”

  “Yes, well, of course. What I was trying to say…” It was bloody hard to say anything at all with her hands now wandering to the knotted sash at his waist. Her deft fingers untied the sash and his dressing gown opened to reveal his nightshirt. “I’m not very good at resisting temptation.”

  “No?” She leaned forward and kissed the base of his throat. “Yet another thing we have in common.” One hand trailed over his stomach and lower. Her fingers brushed across his erection.

  He shuddered and grabbed her hand. “Have you any idea what you’re doing?”


  “I haven’t done it for a very long time but I’m certain I remember how.”

  He stared at her. “Are you seducing me?”

  Amusement shone in her eye. “Well, I am trying. I suspect I can be quite seductive.”

  “I can assure you that suspicion is accurate. Nonetheless.” He shook his head. “This is not a good idea.”

  “On the contrary, Oliver.” She pulled her hand free from his and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I think it’s an excellent idea.”

  Her breasts pressed against his chest and it was all he could do to form a coherent word. “But you and I—”

  “We are both adults. I want you and there isn’t a doubt in my mind that”—she shifted her hips against his and he gasped—“you want me.”

  “I should warn you, Kate.” His arms slipped around her as if of their own accord. “I am a weak man. My character is not as strong as it may appear.”

  “Good.” Her lips brushed across the line of his jaw.

  “Nor do the moral considerations regarding your marital state seem especially important at the moment.” No, what was important was the curve of the small of her back beneath his hands.

  “Excellent.” She kissed the corner of his mouth. “Moral considerations can be dreadfully inhibiting.”

  “Kate.” He groaned. “What are you doing to me?”

  “I thought we had agreed that I am seducing you.”

  “And a fine job you are doing too in spite of…” He paused and pulled away and stared at her. “What did you mean when you said that you haven’t done it for a very long time?”

  She laughed. “I think the statement speaks for itself.”

  “Kate.” He chose his words with care. “How would you know?”

  “I knew there was something I wished to tell you.” She pulled him closer. “I’ve remembered something else. I was married once and now I am a widow.” She reached up and spoke softly into his ear. “And my marriage was a very long time ago.”