The Training of a Marquess

by Sandra Owens

  The only word in the English language he could remember passed his lips. “Mine.”

  Inhaling deeply, his eyes stayed on her as she descended the stairs. She was a diamond of the first water and his idiot self had spent the last two afternoons at his club dropping hints of a beautiful heiress who would be attending tonight’s ball.

  What the bloody hell had he been thinking?

  She floated down in a cloud of burgundy satin, and if he never took another breath in his sorry life at least he would have lived to see this. Claire—his Claire—beautiful and sensual, looking back at him as if she would never have eyes for any man but him. He drank in every slow step she took.

  Fool that he was, he had offered her up to every buck and dandy in London. All he had thought to do was give her a chance to look over the possibilities so he could be sure when…if she chose him, he could trust that she was sure of her heart.

  Bloody hell, he would likely kill any man who came near her.

  The dress came to an arc under her neck and hugged every delicious curve of her body, from her breasts to the curve of her hips before flowing down the long lines of her legs. He swallowed hard. The blood red ruby earrings dangling from her ears, her only adornment, made him want to slowly peel everything but the earrings off and then have hot, fevered sex with her. She stepped down, stopping in front of him.

  “Turn around,” he said gruffly—too gruffly. If she only knew how beautiful she was there would be no uncertainty in her eyes. She had no idea of the picture she presented—a goddess come to life. The vision before him was every man’s fantasy.

  She was his, dammit!

  She turned and presented her back. Oh, the lady was too clever. Her hair had been pulled up in a mass of curls atop her head and then left to trail down her back, making the deep V of the gown almost hidden. But every man at the ball would be straining his neck to get a glimpse of what she had hidden under that glorious hair.

  He was surely going to have to kill someone before the night ended.

  With a gentle hand on her shoulder, he turned her to face him. “I knew you would look stunning in that gown, Claire. You steal my breath away, and I do mean that literally.”

  She smiled. “Please, don’t leave me alone tonight.”

  Not a chance in bloody hell. “The purpose of this night is for you to see what you have missed in your life.” He put a finger to her lips when she began to speak. “But I promise that unless you are dancing or wish me to the devil, I will not abandon you.”

  She closed her eyes and sucked his finger into her mouth.

  “Stop that or, I promise, you’ll go no further than my bed tonight.” He pulled his finger away before he slung her over his shoulder and made good on his words.

  “I wouldn’t mind.”

  Neither would he, but was saved from doing something foolish by the arrival of his mother.

  “Oh, Claire, my dear, you look lovely. There will not be an eligible man at the ball who will not want an introduction.”

  Chase gave serious consideration to following through on his threat to keep her in his bed tonight. It would keep her away from all the bloody men his mother was determined to introduce her to.

  “What is the reason for this new habit of growling, Kensington? It is most unusual.”

  He scowled at Lady Anne. Why had he thought it would be a good idea to ask her to chaperone Claire? As the carriage took them along the streets of Mayfair, he couldn’t take his gaze away from Claire. How was he going to bear watching men vie for her attention?

  “I haven’t been able to decide whether to claim your first waltz, Claire, or the supper dance, so, I’m claiming both.”

  Lady Anne gave him a knowing smirk. “You do understand that by doing so, you will be announcing your interest in her.”

  Was that his intention? He had told himself he would give her two weeks, and he shouldn’t be putting a do not touch sign on her on her first night out—even if he did want to paint mine in capital letters all over her.

  “I know,” he said tersely.

  “Why is that?” Claire asked.

  “Because, dear, one dance is just a dance, but two means he is courting you.”

  “I’m so ignorant of the rules.” She grabbed Lady Anne’s hand. “Please, don’t leave me alone tonight.”

  “How easily I’ve been replaced,” Chase teased. “It wasn’t ten minutes ago you were begging me to stay by your side.”

  ****

  Chase claimed his waltz and for the first time since arriving, Claire relaxed. Swirling around the dance floor in his arms, all she felt was him, his gloved hand on the small of her back, his other hand holding hers. All she saw was him, and all she could think was how beautiful he was in his formal dress. Of course, he was beautiful without a stitch of clothing, also.

  “What has you smiling so mysteriously?” he asked.

  She shouldn’t tell him, but she did. “I was trying to decide whether I preferred you dressed as you are tonight or not dressed at all.”

  His eyes turned dark and hungry. “You’re courting danger, love. I haven’t been able to touch you like I have wanted for a week, and my self-control is precarious at best. I may forget myself and kiss you.”

  “I’m counting on it, my lord.”

  He twirled her off the dance floor and was steering her toward the French doors to the balcony when Lady Anne stepped in front of them. “Going somewhere, Kensington?” Lady Anne asked.

  Claire blushed guiltily.

  “It’s stifling in this crush, and I thought to get some fresh air,” Chase said.

  Lady Anne waved her hand toward the balcony. “Be my guest, but Claire stays with me.”

  He leaned toward Lady Anne. “You are an evil woman, Mama.”

  His hand pressed against Claire’s back. Was he as disappointed as she to have been stopped from stealing a few minutes alone?

  “I’ll come to you for the supper dance,” he said and walked out the French doors.

  Claire envied the fresh air he was breathing. It really was stifling in the ballroom with so many people crowded together and all the candles burning. Lady Anne had told her earlier that a crush was a good thing for the hostess, but other than dancing with Chase, she didn’t see the appeal. She would much rather be at Hillcrest Abbey with Chase, the twins and her horses.

  “Your partner for the next dance is Lord Summerton. He’s a viscount and has twenty thousand pounds a year so he’s considered a good catch. Especially if you like dogs, which is all he can talk about.” Lady Anne leaned close and whispered. “I have it on good authority he wears a corset and his coats are padded.”

  Claire laughed. The things Lady Anne told her about each of the gentlemen who asked her to dance had helped. It was hard to be intimidated by a man who could only speak of his dogs and wore a corset.

  “Ah, here comes just the man I’ve been looking for. Lord Daventry is an earl and every woman in the room sighs when he walks past. Of course, they do the same when Kensington walks by, but Kensington belongs to you, my dear, so that is neither here nor there. This is important, so do as I say. He will ask you to dance, and you will agree to the last waltz of the evening. He’s a friend of Kensington’s, but he is a rake and Kensington will be beside himself when he sees you waltzing with Lord Daventry.”

  Claire recognized the name. He was the man who was interested in one of her horses and wouldn’t be against her training his.

  Curious, she glanced at him. Oh my, he was almost as beautiful as Chase. But where Chase was all light and golden, this man looked dark and dangerous. She would wager Amira he didn’t wear a corset. Except for his white shirt and cravat, he dressed in severe black—no fancy, colorful waistcoat, no lace on his cuffs or jeweled stickpin. The attire suited him with his black hair, piercing eyes and chiseled face. The nerves she had put to rest returned.

  Lord Daventry bowed over Lady Anne’s hand. “Lady Kensington, it is indeed a pleasure to see you again. When you
are not in town, it’s as if all the lights in London have been extinguished.”

  Claire watched, fascinated, as Lady Anne giggled and tapped Lord Daventry’s arm with her fan. “If you were a fox, Daventry, you would charm all the hounds to your side, I’m sure. Now, I would like to introduce you to my good friend, Lady Derebourne. This is her first time in Town, so be gentle with her.”

  Ink-blue eyes raked her from head to toe. Other than Chase, Claire had never had a man focus on her with such smoldering heat. It was thrilling, yet he was just another man she could easily say no to.

  “Gentle is my middle name, Lady Kensington.”

  Claire returned his bow with a curtsey and held out her hand. He slipped his hand under hers and brought it to his lips. All the other gentlemen had kissed the air over her fingers. Lord Daventry touched his lips to her gloved fingers, and Claire realized she was having her first flirtation with a true rake. Although he wasn’t Chase and never could be, she was fascinated by him.

  “Do you believe in love at first sight, Lady Derebourne?” he asked.

  Oh, he was a charmer, all right. Even so—and even though he was darkly beautiful—her butterflies didn’t awaken.

  “I do, my lord. The first time I saw my horse, Amira, it was love at first sight.”

  He laughed. “She is delicious, Lady Kensington. Where ever did you find her?”

  Lady Anne glanced to her right and when she turned back to them, her eyes gleamed with satisfaction. Chase stood just inside the French doors watching them, a fierce scowl on his face. Claire swallowed a grin. Oh, this was going to be fun.

  “I didn’t find her, Kensington did.”

  “Oh ho, this just gets better and better,” he said. “Lady Derebourne, you must grant me a dance.”

  “I believe I still have the last waltz free.”

  He grasped her hand and kissed it again. “I will be counting the minutes, my lady.”

  At that moment, Lord Summerton approached. “Lady Derebourne, I believe this is my dance.”

  “Daventry, I have a little favor to ask of you,” Claire heard Lady Anne say as Lord Summerton led her to the dance floor.

  What was Lady Anne up to? Claire wanted Chase to put an end to this silly game and if making him jealous would do it, she would go along. But her heart wasn’t in it, nor did she want to hurt him in any way.

  Lady Anne was right. All Lord Summerton could speak of was his dogs. Fortunately, they were dancing the quadrille and there wasn’t much opportunity to talk.

  Her next partner, Lord Easterly, was an earnest young man and she liked him, though she wasn’t sure he shaved, yet. She lost track of the names of her dance partners by the time the supper dance arrived. Not one of them disturbed her butterflies.

  Chase remained quiet during their dance and through supper. He made her and Lady Anne a plate of food before making one for himself, seemingly content to let her and his mother do the talking. Claire finished her glass of champagne and declined another. As they prepared to return to the ballroom, he finally spoke.

  “Who are you dancing with now?”

  Lady Anne answered for her, rattling off the list of names a dance had been promised to. When she arrived at Lord Daventry’s name, he scowled.

  “Don’t give me that look, Kensington. Daventry is a friend of yours and was delighted to meet Claire.”

  “I’m sure he was,” he muttered. “You seemed just as delighted to meet him, Claire.”

  He was jealous, and she felt guilty. She wanted to tell him Lord Daventry didn’t disturb her butterflies, but she was going to trust Lady Anne knew what she was doing.

  “He’s interested in purchasing one of my horses. Before we left Hillcrest, I extended him an invitation to visit. I’m looking forward to our dance so we can discuss the particulars.”

  Lady Anne was right, he was developing a habit of growling. “He seems to be a charming man,” she added.

  “All the ladies think so,” he said and strode away.

  Lady Anne grinned.

  “I hope you know what you are doing,” Claire said.

  “Oh, I do,” she answered.

  ****

  Chase prowled the ballroom, keeping an eye on Claire and her dance partners. He had danced a few times with the young ladies sitting against the wall. Unlike the beauties prowling about—sure of their allure and conversation skills—the girls he chose stayed blessedly silent allowing him to wallow in his misery.

  Finding a wall where no one lingered nearby, he leaned against it, crossing his arms over his chest. It gave him a perfect line of sight to glare at Daventry. Not that the earl took notice. The man was too bloody busy making eyes at Claire.

  Did he have to put his hand so bloody low on her back? If he wasn’t mistaken, and he was sure he wasn’t, Daventry held her closer than was proper.

  She laughed at something the earl said, and Chase wanted to plant the man a facer. Why the devil was he standing back and letting every buck in England have a go at her? She belonged to him. He pushed off the wall intending to end his farce of a plan.

  “Don’t you dare, Kensington.”

  He glared at his mother. He could bowl right over her if he wanted—and he very much wanted—but realized he had been damned close to causing a scandal.

  “What the hell were you thinking to introduce her to Daventry? And then, a waltz of all things.”

  “Your language, Kensington.” She turned to watch the couple dancing. “I must say, they do look nice together.”

  “Have I told you lately that you are an evil woman, Mama?”

  She chuckled. “Yes, you have, actually. Now behave yourself.”

  After she wandered off, Chase turned his attention back to Claire. The waltz ended and he waited for Daventry to return Claire to Lady Anne’s side. He watched in disbelief as the bounder led her out to the terrace.

  How dare the rogue take the woman he loved out into the night?

  Chase fell back against the wall when his knees threatened to buckle. Bloody hell, he was an idiot!

  He loved her.

  That he’d been heading in that direction, he had come to terms with. When it had become a sure thing, he didn’t know. She belonged to him, and that was all that mattered.

  To the devil with his promise to give her two weeks. It ended now. He focused his eyes on the French doors and marched to them, heedlessly plowing past anyone in his way.

  ****

  Lord Daventry glanced over her shoulder. “Here he comes, Lady Derebourne. From the look on his face, I fear I may be sporting a black eye tomorrow. Sadly for my pretty face, I can never say no to Lady Kensington. You can reward me by selling me that horse.”

  “If this works, my lord, consider Reckless a gift. I must warn you, he’s a handful.”

  The earl grinned wickedly. “I adore feisty horses…and women. Are you sure I can’t steal you away?”

  “I’m sorry, my lord, but my heart belongs to the marquess.”

  Said heart pounded. She was tired of the games, tired of flirting with men she had no interest in, and her feet hurt. Daventry had confided that Lady Anne had put him up to stirring Chase’s jealously. It was a calculated risk, and she prayed it would all end tonight.

  “My loss.” Lord Daventry smiled at her and slid his knuckles over her cheek.

  “Remove your hands from my lady, Daventry, if you want to live to see tomorrow,” Chase growled from behind her.

  Lord Daventry gave her a satisfied smile, and Claire squeezed her eyes closed. Finally. When she opened them, the earl was gone and Chase stood in front of her.

  “Am I your lady?” she asked.

  He pulled her against him and slammed his lips over hers. “Does that answer your question?” he rasped when he pulled away. “Christ in heaven, Claire, I love you.” He lowered his lips to hers again and this time his kiss was soft and tender, a kiss of love.

  She had chased a dream and learned that sometimes, dreams do come true. Finally, she could say
the words that had been in her heart since the night he’d told her how he’d saved two boys from the streets.

  “I love you, too.”

  Chase grabbed her hand and led her down the stairs of the balcony. “Come with me, my love.”

  The path narrowed as they left the lights from the ballroom behind. “Where are we going?”

  “Someplace my evil mother can’t find us.”

  An hour later, Claire rubbed her cheek over his chest. Sated and content, she snuggled up to him. It had been wickedly thrilling to make love in a dark garden with hundreds of people mingling about in the nearby ballroom. And, oh God, had he ever loved her. Yet, it had been different tonight. His desperate need and passionate touches had consumed her.

  The dark corner where he had dragged her was quiet now, the sounds of the orchestra gone with only their last note lingering in the air. As they made love, their bodies moving to the sound of the violins, Chase had asked her to marry him, and then caught her tears of joy with tender kisses.

  Claire had no idea if they would have reached this point without her plan. Although she felt a bit guilty for using her training techniques on him, she wasn’t sorry. She debated not telling him, but wanted to begin their life with honesty between them.

  “I have a confession to make,” she said, and then remembered the day she had spied on him at the lake. “Two actually.”

  He lifted his head. “What is that, love?”

  She nuzzled his chest again. “Well, I want to confess that I watched you when you swam in the lake wearing only your...you know.”

  “My drawers? Yes, I know.”

  “You knew?” She narrowed her eyes at his pleased-with-himself smile. “How?”

  “I saw you attempting, unsuccessfully I might add, to hide behind a tree.”

  “Why you…you…”

  “Me what, Claire? Didn’t you enjoy the show?”

  “Oh, God, I did.” His chuckle vibrated against her cheek.

  “And your other confession?”

  Warily, she confessed. “What would you say if I told you I used my training methods on you?” She held her breath and waited for his anger.