Miss Hillary Schools a Scoundrel

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Miss Hillary Schools a Scoundrel Page 17

by Samantha Grace


  Lana jerked her head around to glower once more, but he seemed oblivious as he searched the interior of the room. His entire face lit as his sight landed on something across the tavern. She turned to seek the object of his attention and almost cried out in agony.

  Across the room, with arms laden, stood the most voluptuous woman she had ever seen. As the barmaid leaned over to place drinks in front of the patrons, her unbound breasts jiggled, drawing the hedonistic interest of every man at the table. A quick glance at Drew revealed he wasn’t immune to her charms either. A sensual smile spread across his lips.

  As the woman’s head lifted, she spotted him. “Lord Andrew.” Sparing Lana a fleeting glance, the barmaid returned her full notice to Drew as she approached. The erotic sway of her hips had Lana fidgeting and burning red hot. She spun around and stomped away before she overheard whatever salacious arrangements they were surely making.

  “Our chambers have been prepared,” Phoebe announced as she joined her. “Is everything all right? You look flush.”

  Lana nodded curtly. “I’m ready for rest is all. I think I will retire to my room until dinner.”

  It was taking forever for her companions to move toward the stairwell. Lana shifted her weight from foot to foot and kept her eyes trained on the stairs rather than ogle Drew and that harlot. As she reached the stairs, she involuntarily glanced over her shoulder and clamped her lips together.

  The woman leaned close to Drew with her hand lightly resting on his chest. Her head tilted to the side as a seductive smile spread across her full lips. Lana marched the rest of the way up the stairs and fought the urge to slam the door to her room.

  Twenty-five

  Drew watched Lana stomp up the stairs, his eyes glued to her perfectly formed derriere. If he played his cards right, he would get his fill of her gorgeous body tonight.

  “Lord Andrew, you are bad,” Ann admonished with a laugh. All flirtations ceased. “The poor girl doesn’t stand a chance.”

  He smiled broadly at the barmaid. “I see you received my message. Thanks for playing along.”

  Ann moved to a vacant table and swiped it with a wet cloth before offering him a seat. “If I were not happily married, I wouldn’t dare play with fire. I prefer to avoid a serious burn.”

  Drew smiled warmly at the woman. “How is the lucky bugger?”

  “He’s as wonderful as ever.” Ann lowered her voice, stealing glances toward the kitchen. “Marcy’s upset you are traveling with a woman.”

  Marcy? He tried to conjure a face to go with the name but failed.

  “She won’t cause any trouble, my lord.” Ann slid into the chair closest to him. “Are you going to reveal the reason you need my assistance in persuading the lady? I see you have lost none of your former allure.”

  Drew shrugged. Although he appreciated Ann’s assistance, he saw no need to divulge details of his relationship with Lana, not that they had a relationship to discuss. The morning after he had comforted her—fighting the urge to bed her, he might add—she had greeted him as she would a stranger. Lana resisted his attempts to melt her icy exterior, and after a couple of days of rejection, he’d had enough. Drew never begged women for attention, and he wouldn’t beg Lana Hillary.

  Unfortunately, he couldn’t walk away from her either. She held some unseen power over him, and he wanted her as he had never wanted anyone or anything. And not just in his bed. He wanted Lana sharing his table at mealtimes. He wanted her riding beside him in the park. He wanted her involved in every aspect of his life. Yet, to make that happen, he needed to burst through the wall of indifference she had erected, because she cared for him whether she wished to admit it or not.

  His plan to force Lana into facing her feelings was risky, but hopefully his scheme would reap rewards. Making her jealous didn’t settle well with his conscience, but Drew had run out of ideas. They would reach London on the morrow, and his chances of success would plummet once she was under her brother’s protection again. Jake Hillary wouldn’t allow him anywhere near her.

  “Will you be around for dinner?” he asked the barmaid.

  Ann stood. “I don’t believe you will need additional help judging from the look on the lady’s face. I best return to work. Good luck with your endeavor. She is a lovely young woman.”

  Drew grabbed the barmaid’s hand and discreetly pressed a coin into it. “Thanks, Ann.”

  She frowned and opened her palm to gape at it. “I’ve never made a living as a trollop, Lord Andrew, and I do not intend to start.”

  Heat rose up his neck to the tips of his ears. “I don’t wish to insult you, Ann. Would you please accept it as payment for retrieving an ale for me?”

  She stared for a moment, then sighed and replaced her injured expression with one of friendliness. “Of course, my lord.”

  Later that evening Drew took extra care with his appearance before speeding downstairs in anticipation of being late for dinner. But when he burst into the private dining room, the space was empty. Where the hell was everyone? He dropped onto one of the spindle chairs and tapped his fingers against the wooden slat table.

  He ordered a carafe of wine and waited some more. A shuffle at the doorway drew his notice and he whipped around in his eagerness to see Lana.

  He frowned at his brother and sister-in-law. “Where’s Miss Hillary?”

  Phoebe trudged into the dining room, her womb seeming to have expanded exponentially in the last day. Her sallow complexion set off warning signals. For the first time, Drew worried she might deliver his brother’s child while on the journey. Rich should have kept her at Shafer Hall as planned rather than dragging her to Town.

  “Are you well, Phoebe?”

  “I’m first rate, Drew. And you?” Her smile was weary, but the spark in her eye reassured him a little.

  “You will make it to Town before the baby comes, won’t you?”

  Rich assisted as she lowered into a chair. “If the Virgin Mary could travel to Bethlehem and give birth in a stable, I can surely travel in luxury to deliver my child in my own bed. Both of you, stop fretting. I have a few weeks to go.” Phoebe snatched her napkin, shook it out, and laid it across her lap. “For heaven’s sake, you men act as if birthing has never been done. Yet, you both stand here.”

  Drew chuckled. If her spit and fire were any indications, she was quite well, albeit ill tempered. “Splendid. Then I apologize for inquiring. Where did you say Miss Hillary is this evening?”

  Rich assumed the spot next to his wife. “She has chosen to take her meal in her room.”

  Drew scowled and sipped his wine. “Our last meal together, and she chooses to barricade herself in her room.”

  Phoebe shot a dirty look in his direction. “Can’t say I blame her after your little performance with the barmaid.”

  “Pardon?” His tone of voice spoke of his offense. Of all people, he wouldn’t expect Phoebe to judge him.

  Rich shook his head slightly, pleading with his eyes for Drew to be quiet.

  Her jaw set firmly. “Pardon? Was I unclear, Drew? You have ruined the poor girl and now you flaunt your dalliances. I am beyond put out with you. You deeply disappoint me.”

  Drew flinched. His mouth opened and closed several times. He hadn’t meant for it to seem he had tossed Lana aside. He only wanted her to own up to loving him as he loved her. He had to repair things, and quickly.

  He shoved from the table. The chair legs screeched along the floor in protest. “I think I’ll retire early,” he announced and bounded from his seat.

  “Wait a moment, Drew.”

  He ignored his brother’s call and hastened to the tavern to find Ann. She regarded him warily as he closed the distance in a few strides.

  “One more favor, love.”

  “Yes, my lord?”

  “Miss Hillary is taking her meal in her room. I want to make the delivery.”

  Twenty-six

  Lana paced at the foot of the bed, anger and jealousy shaking her to the core.
She had never been so afflicted by any emotion. Yanking the covers from the bed, she threw them on the floor. Something primal propelled her, made her want to scream.

  Calm down. Just calm down.

  She forced slow, deep breaths, but that helped minimally. Visions of Drew with that woman drove her insane. She grabbed a pillow, placed it over her mouth, and screamed her frustration. After several good blood-curdling screams, the tension eased a little.

  A knock on her door made her jump. Blast. Did someone hear her screams?

  “One minute, please.” She glanced at the mess she had made. Embarrassed by the evidence of her tantrum, she scurried to lift the covers from the floor and tossed them on the bed.

  There was another knock, louder and more insistent. Suddenly, she recalled she had ordered the delivery of her meal to the room.

  “Uh, wait one more moment.” She raced to remake the bed, but didn’t bother with perfection. The servant would deliver her meal and be gone in a matter of a few moments, not long enough to evaluate her bed-making abilities, or lack of abilities.

  Taking one more calming breath, she smoothed her skirts and opened the door.

  “Egads, peach. What took you so long?”

  All of Lana’s anger returned when she discovered Drew in the corridor holding a tray of food. She snatched the slice of apple custard pie and smashed it into his face.

  Oh, drat, drat, drat. She gasped and stumbled back a step. What had she been thinking? She had gone too far this time, assaulting a member of the nobility, and with a pie, no less.

  Drew kicked the door closed before placing the tray on a side table. He wiped a dollop of pie from his chin with his index finger. “For the love of God, Lana. I told you I don’t care for apples.” His lopsided grin was contagious, and she chuckled in spite of the horrid circumstances.

  “I-I’m sorry, my lord. I don’t know what came over me.” She hurried to the washbasin and saturated a cloth before carrying it to him.

  He didn’t accept her offering. “You do it. Hardly seems fair I should have to clean your mess.”

  Drew plopped into a chair and pulled Lana to stand between his legs.

  “Oh.” She wiggled to remove his hands from her backside but only succeeded in providing a thorough tour of her derriere. “Lord Andrew.”

  “Yes, Miss Hillary?”

  “Kindly remove your hands from my person.”

  Drew dropped his hands to his knees. “My apologies, Miss Hillary. I quite forgot myself.”

  Lana’s face heated and she swiped at the pie stuck to his cheek. He’d forgotten himself. She concentrated on removing all evidence of the sweet from his face, trying her best to ignore the bulge pressing against her thigh.

  “There. All clean. You may leave.” She scooted away and dropped the cloth into the basin.

  Drew remained seated as if she hadn’t dismissed him. He glanced around the room, taking in the disheveled bedclothes. “You’ve been rumpling the bed without me? Now, that’s not very gracious.”

  The scoundrel was back, and the heat in his gaze served as evidence of his desire for her.

  “If memory serves, you have never suffered from a lack of willing bed partners.”

  Drew frowned and rubbed his chin. “True, Miss Hillary.”

  She gritted her teeth. Rage boiled under her surface, ready to explode again.

  “Of course, there is only one partner who interests me, but she continually pushes me away. I’ve even offered for her hand, but she refuses me.”

  Lana busied herself with straightening the covers. “She sounds like an intelligent young woman.”

  “Brilliant, I’d say. ’Tis her suitor who has proven dim-witted.”

  Her head shot up.

  “And desperate,” he added. “We cannot ignore the fact the gentleman has grown desperate, especially since he and the lady reach London tomorrow. She may be forever out of his reach.”

  Gone was all of his teasing and bravado. His eyes locked with hers. Her hands shook and she clasped them together to hide her reaction. “H-how so, my lord?”

  Drew raised himself from the chair. “Lana, I simply wanted you to feel jealousy like I experienced when you chose Bollrud over me. I thought perhaps you would realize you desire me if someone else seemed interested.”

  Lana sniffed and shook her head slightly. He had no idea how badly she wanted him, but not just for a bed partner. “It is best that our association ends here. An affair would be foolhardy.”

  Drew advanced, his movements languid and reminiscent of the leopards prowling the Royal Menagerie. “I don’t propose an affair, my sweet. I wish to marry you.”

  Lana stepped back, but her legs butted against the bed. “Y-you don’t have to marry me. Lord Richard should tend to his own affairs.”

  Drew caressed her hair. “I don’t give a damn about Rich. I want to be a husband to you, a father to our baby.” His other hand covered her stomach.

  Every nerve in her body zinged. She willed herself to be strong even as her knees turned to jelly. “W-we don’t know if there is a baby.”

  “Then we could make one.”

  His mouth claimed hers, his hot lips searing and delicious. Drew’s essence was wild and intoxicating, and Lana lost her ability to think clearly. She moaned as his tongue delved into her mouth and tangled with her own.

  He broke the kiss, still clinging to her, their foreheads pressed together. “Peach, you keep making noises like that, and I won’t last long enough to undress you.”

  Her eyes flew open. “Y-you want me to be quiet?”

  “Hell, no. It’s highly arousing.” He lightly tossed her on the mattress then flipped her on her belly to loosen the fastenings down the back of her gown. Untying the straps of her chemise, he pushed the garment down as he went. “No corset,” he noted. “Very nice.” His lips burned a trail down her back as he nibbled her exposed skin.

  After releasing the last button, Drew worked her skirts over her hips and untied her drawers in a matter of seconds. His warm hands grazed her buttocks and down the backs of her thighs as he removed them.

  A cool breeze replaced his heat, and she pushed up to her elbows to look over her shoulder. Drew seemed to be feasting on the view. “Mmm, mmm, mmm,” he muttered, shaking his head. “The most perfect derriere ever.”

  Lana gasped and her face blazed at the inappropriate compliment. She buried it in the covers to hide her mortification but gasped a second time when he nipped her cheek. “Drew.”

  “Yes, dear?” He kissed her other cheek before turning her to face him.

  Drew removed his jacket, cravat, and shirt then towered over her, bare from the waist up. Leaning to caress her thighs, his honed torso rippled with each movement. He epitomized excellence in the male species. Why would he choose to commit to her when he would have women throwing themselves at his feet?

  She dropped her eyes and crossed her hands over her chest, but he captured her wrists, holding them gently against the bed.

  “No, Lana. Look at me.” His hardness pressed against her core, and her gaze skittered around the room. “Do not push me away. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  She shook her head. Drew could have any beautiful woman he wanted, as evidenced by the buxom barmaid earlier, so why would he stay faithful to her?

  His guttural growl snapped her out of her contemplative state. “Lana, please don’t do this to me again.”

  Her eyes shot to his face and his pained expression almost broke her heart in two. “I don’t mean to push you away. It is just… I don’t understand…”

  When she didn’t continue, he took a deep breath then spoke with more patience. “You don’t understand what, love? You can tell me anything.”

  She should speak up. Once she made love to him again, she would be completely his. This was her last chance to extricate herself from Drew’s grasp, although the timing was quite horrible. “I don’t understand how a man as exquisite as you could forsake all others for someone like me.”
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  The strained look slid from his face, and he dropped his head against the pillow of her breasts. His warm breath wafted across her skin as he chuckled.

  “Someone like you?” He lifted his head, his blue eyes clouded with passion. “You mean someone with kissable rosebud lips that make me hard just looking at them?” He bent down to kiss her deep and slow, taking her breath away.

  His eyes twinkled when he pulled back. What mischief had he planned? Drew released her hands to grab a fistful of her dress and chemise. He dragged the fabric of both garments lower to expose her breasts. The dress and undergarment bunched around her waist. Her nipples puckered as he blew across each of them, and her heart sped to an unnatural rate, thumping hard.

  “Or perhaps you mean someone with luscious breasts begging to be lavished with attention?” His tongue lapped at her hardened tip, circling it several times before drawing her flesh into his hot, wet mouth. She arched and moaned as pleasurable heat radiated to her core. She loved it when he did that, delighted in his labored breathing when he touched her.

  “They… they are not full,” she disagreed, playfully goading him.

  Again he pulled back to view her face with lustful eyes. “Your breasts are exactly how I like them.”

  “Oh.” She shuddered as his mouth closed around her other nipple and lightly tugged. He licked and suckled until she throbbed with need.

  When he had gotten his fill, he placed kisses down her chest and stomach until he reached the barrier created by her clothes. Growling his displeasure, he yanked her garments over her hips and down her legs, leaving her completely nude.

  Drew lifted her ankle to his lips and licked the sensitive flesh.

  “And lest I forget, your legs are divine, sweet, so long and shapely.” Lana trembled as he kissed a trail along her calf then inner thigh. She jumped when his lips touched her mound of curls.

 

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