Debbie Raleigh - Some Like It Brazen.doc

by Some Like It Brazen (lit)

  He made her tingle. And shiver. And long to discover more of such sensations.

  A dangerous, potent force.

  Knowing she should step away, Bianca instead lifted her hands to place them on his solid chest.

  “Perhaps not quite so surprising considering you seem to frequently lurk in gardens,” she pointed out.

  Beneath her hands she felt his heart give a sudden jerk, and a smile of satisfaction curved her lips.

  Obviously he was no more indifferent to her than she was to him.

  It seemed only fair.

  “Well, I am a farmer,” he retorted, his voice huskier than usual as his attention drifted down to her lips. “It is hardly surprising that I would prefer the comfort of nature to cramped, overcrowded rooms. Besides which, I am discovering that there are the most fascinating treasures to be discovered among the roses.”

  Her lips parted. She was not quite certain why until his head swooped downward and he captured her mouth in the kiss she had wanted from the moment he had appeared in the garden.

  Oh yes.

  This was it.

  Just exactly what she had wanted.

  Her lashes fluttered downward as his lips moved over her own with a demanding tenderness. He did not taste or even smell as Stephen did. There was no brandy on his breath and no expensive cologne upon his skin. Instead his lips held a hint of peppermint and his skin the clean scent of soap.

  A combination she found strangely erotic.

  Sparks flashed and smoldered behind her closed lids as his tongue stroked over her lower lip and then shockingly dipped into her mouth.

  Her breath caught at the strange intimacy. A part of her realized she should protest. This seemed far more dangerous than a mere kiss. But a much larger part of her was far too intrigued by the wicked pleasure to call a halt.

  His tongue brushed her own, and she gave a faint moan. Yes. Oh yes. Her stomach clenched and her fingers clutched at his coat as she went onto the tips of her toes.

  A magical heat raced through her, warming places she did not know could be warmed.

  His arms encircled her, pulling her relentlessly to the hardness of his body. Instinctively her hands lifted to tangle in the satin softness of his hair.

  “What have you done to me, muirnin?” he rasped, his lips brushing soft, urgent kisses over her upturned countenance. “Have you cast some spell of enchantment?”

  Bianca was quite certain that she was the one under a spell.

  Absolutely nothing else could explain her fierce reaction to this gentleman.

  After all, the daughter of a duke did not share such intimacies with a man in the midst of a sun-drenched garden.

  Not, at least, if there were any danger of being caught.

  Reluctantly regaining at least a portion of her fogged senses, Bianca wrenched her eyes open.

  “Edward…”

  Finding a delicate spot just below her ear, the nobleman devoted himself to sending chills of pleasure down her spine.

  “Mmmm?”

  Her eyes nearly rolled back in her head. Holy heaven.

  “You…you really should not be kissing me in such a fashion,” she breathed.

  His soft chuckle tickled her ear. “You prefer I kiss you in some other fashion?”

  Oh no. This way was utterly, wonderfully perfect.

  “You should not be kissing me at all.”

  “I am offending you?” He pulled back to regard her with darkened hazel eyes. “Or perhaps you find me repulsive?”

  She blinked in shock. “Of course not.”

  A smile curved his lips. “Good.”

  “No.” She sucked in a deep breath, suddenly aware of just how near the looming townhouse was and how fortunate they had been not to have been seen by a passing servant. Or worse…her father. “It’s not good.”

  “It’s bad?”

  Her hands lowered to his shoulders. She should step away completely, but it seemed wise to wait until her knees were not threatening to give way.

  “This is not at all proper. And if anyone were to come upon us…”

  “You would be compromised into wedding me,” he completed.

  “Exactly.”

  He seemed to consider a long moment, his gaze remaining steadily upon her flushed features. Then, just as she expected him to firmly come back to his senses, he allowed his hands to sweep down the curve of her back.

  “Do you know, Lady Bianca, I could think of worse fates.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  The next morning found Bianca banished to her chambers for the day.

  Not that she truly minded.

  Being in exile meant she would not be forced to endure yet another tedious lecture from her father on having disappeared for near four hours the day before, nor to make an appearance for the predictable crowd of hopefuls that filled the downstairs parlor.

  And best of all, her cousin Alexander had arrived shortly after luncheon to dab upon the portrait he had been working on for the past year.

  A slender, golden-haired gentleman with hazel eyes, delicate features, and polished charm, he was a favorite among both sexes of society. A privileged position he took full advantage of. Alexander had never encountered a lady he could not seduce nor a gentleman he could not fleece.

  He was a plague and a pestilence, but Bianca adored him, and the torture of being forced to sit for his ridiculous attempt at painting her portrait was readily offset by his sly sense of humor.

  At least upon most days.

  Seated upon the window seat with her head turned to a most uncomfortable angle, Bianca began to sense there was more to her cousin’s unexpected arrival than a mere desire to chat.

  A suspicion that was at last confirmed as he halted his aimless dabbing to regard her with a mysterious smile.

  “I must tell you, my sweet, there are the most delicious rumors whispering their way about town.”

  Bianca forced herself not to react to the smooth words. Gossip had swirled about her since she had left the cradle. The only means to endure the relentless besiegement was to pretend utter and complete indifference.

  “That is hardly earth-shattering.” Her tone was one of sublime boredom. Practice had made it perfect. “Rumors are always whispering their way about town. Last week alone I heard that Lady Stolbert had taken the Russian ambassador as her lover, Lord Colefield’s son had run off to Gretna Green with an actress, and the mad King had been miraculously cured and was about to return to the throne. None of which, however, proved to possess the least amount of truth.”

  “These rumors concern you.”

  “Ah, then they must be true.”

  Alexander chuckled. “Are you not even remotely interested in what people are saying?”

  “Not particularly, but I sense that you intend to tell me anyway.”

  He dabbed a bit more. “What is the purpose of listening to gossip if you cannot pass it along?”

  She rolled her eyes heavenward. No one could be more provoking than her cousin.

  Well, perhaps her father.

  And that conceited Miss Hennings who was forever lording it over the other debutantes that the Prince had once proclaimed her the Toast of the Season. The conceited tart.

  “Oh, for goodness’ sakes, Alexander, just tell me.”

  “They are saying you have been seen in the company of the Peasant Earl.”

  “And?” she prompted.

  “And everyone is rabid with speculation as to why you would allow your name to be connected with the encroacher.”

  It was precisely what she had been expecting, and yet Bianca discovered herself tensing.

  But why?

  It had nothing to do with any ridiculous gossip.

  No, that was not entirely true.

  She might not care what others said of her. She was accustomed to the spiteful chatter. But she discovered she cared very much if Edward was harmed by such malicious talk.

  For all his peculiar ways, he was an honorable man who
deserved better than the nasty games played among the ton.

  “Could it not be that I simply enjoy his company?” she demanded.

  “It could be, but that would be far too tedious to please the scandalmongers. Or me,” Alexander drawled. “I know you too well, Bianca. If you are encouraging the lumbering ox, it is because he possesses something you desire.”

  Her dark brows snapped together in a swift display of temper. She was uncertain if she were more angered by his insinuation that she was using Edward for her own devious purpose or the fact he had called him a lumbering ox.

  Both of them were enough to make her consider throttling her beloved relative.

  “What the devil is that supposed to mean?”

  Alexander gave a click of his tongue as he tossed down his paintbrush. “Halt that frowning at once. My muse demands an exotic angel, not a petulant child.”

  She rose to her feet in a rustle of silk. “Your muse is going to have a blackened eye if you do not explain that insulting comment.”

  “My sweet, there is nothing insulting in the truth.”

  “Lord Harrington possesses nothing I desire.”

  “Not even the means to punish your father for refusing Lord Aldron’s suit?” A sardonic smile curved his lips as a sudden heat flooded her cheeks. “Ah. The blush tells all.”

  The blush was understandable.

  It was the sharp pang of regret clutching at her heart that was unexpected.

  She had apologized, and Edward had accepted. That should have been the end of the matter.

  Still, it gnawed at her to know her behavior had been as trite and shallow as that of those she readily condemned.

  “I will admit that I…approached Lord Harrington out of annoyance,” she reluctantly confessed. Then her chin abruptly tilted. “But I did not lie when I said I enjoy his companionship. He is unlike any other gentleman I have met.”

  Alexander studied her for a long moment, a mysterious smile playing about his lips.

  “No, I should rather think not. He is, after all, a man tumbled into his title and not a born aristocrat. His bloodline is hardly pure.”

  Throttling became a more distinct possibility.

  “Which I must admit has proven to be a vast improvement over most so-called gentlemen,” she snapped before she could halt the revealing words.

  A golden brow arched. “You are charmed by his rustic manners and strapping form? You are not alone, you know. More than one lady has been noted slipping him covert glances even as they condemn him for his lack of proper blood. Still, I must admit that I am rather shocked, my sweet.”

  Strapping form? Oh yes, it was strapping. And hard. And warm. And perfectly proportioned to hold a woman close.

  And the thought of other women sneaking peeks made her jaw clench in the oddest manner.

  The heat in her cheeks deepened as she attempted to thrust such disturbing thoughts from her mind.

  “It is not that. Or at least not entirely,” she amended with grudging honesty. “Do you know, he took me to an almshouse yesterday?”

  The unflappable Alexander appeared momentarily stunned.

  “Whatever for?”

  Bianca briefly recalled her afternoon spent in the company of Edward. Certainly there had been nothing romantic about the encounter. Well, except for that searing kiss that had nearly set the garden on fire.

  Still, while it had been most unconventional, it had kept her tossing and turning most of the night.

  “Because he believes I could alter the world if I chose,” she said softly.

  “Well, well.” Alexander gave a low whistle. “It seems there is rather more to the farmer than I first suspected. He shall bear watching.”

  She felt an odd chill inch down her spine. “What?”

  “Nothing.” Still smiling, Alexander reached for his brush. “If you will return to your position, my sweet, we shall continue with this most important masterpiece.”

  Edward was disturbed.

  And as always when something was upon his mind, he forced himself to take the necessary time to consider what precisely was troubling him and what steps must be taken to correct his unease.

  He was not a man of impulse or hasty action.

  Nor was he a man to simply hide his head and hope that by ignoring a problem it would somehow vanish.

  He would ponder, weigh his options, and then act. Slowly and methodically.

  Two days after his afternoon in the company of Lady Bianca, he was still in the pondering stage.

  The woman…disturbed him. And worse, he did not understand why.

  It was not just that she was beautiful. Or that he lusted after her. He was a normal man with the normal urges.

  Perhaps this lust was a tad more forceful. Rather like the difference between a flickering candle and a raging fire. But still the sort of thing a man could comprehend.

  If that were all, he would indulge in a bit of a flirtation, hope for a few kisses, and turn his more basic urges to a woman interested in sharing an intimate tryst.

  Problem solved.

  But the simmering lust could only explain a portion of why she continued to haunt his thoughts. Or why it was only with a stern effort that he avoided skulking about her garden on the off chance he might catch sight of her.

  Or worse, considering the best means by which he might bring that radiant smile to her lips.

  She was becoming a fever in his blood, and despite his lack of experience with the fairer sex he realized that it could not be a good thing.

  A bout of unrequited love was not upon his list of experiences he wished to enjoy during his stay in London.

  Calling for his mount, Edward set a brisk pace to Hyde Park. At such an early hour he would have ample room for a good gallop and hopefully the peace necessary to sort through his tangled thoughts and come to some sort of solution to his troubles.

  A fine notion, he told himself as he cantered across the wide swath of open field. Unfortunately, as he circled about for another run, his gaze landed upon a disturbingly familiar female form trotting directly toward him.

  Lady Bianca.

  His breath lodged in his throat as he brought his restless stallion to an abrupt halt. By the fires of hell, she was a sight to behold.

  Seated upon a dove gray mare, she was attired in a ruby velvet habit with black trim that hugged her body with loving tenacity. The vibrant color was a perfect foil for her ivory skin and glossy raven curls and obviously designed to attract and hold the attention of every male in the park.

  Well, his attention was firmly held, he acknowledged with a sharp flare of excitement.

  Held, riveted, and arrested.

  Damn the evil modiste who had invented such a thing.

  Realizing he was gaping at her like a witless moonling, Edward forced his mount forward. Perhaps it would be wiser to ride on with no more than a nod of acknowledgment. At least until he had decided whether he desired to pursue his strange feelings or not.

  Wiser but impossible, he discovered. He was as helplessly drawn to her as a moth toward a lethal flame.

  Halting at her side, Edward offered a bow from his saddle, painfully conscious of his tousled hair and the plain buff breeches and coat that Biddles had threatened to have burned.

  O vanity, obviously thy name was not only woman.

  “Lady Bianca,” he murmured, relieved his voice did not reveal his inner disturbance.

  A ready smile curved her lips. “Lord Harrington.”

  “Edward,” he corrected softly.

  “Edward.”

  His name had never sounded quite so wonderful.

  Fool. Fool. Fool.

  “You are up and about at an uncommonly early hour.”

  She wrinkled her nose in a charming manner. “Having been consigned to my chambers yesterday, I felt the need for some fresh air. Besides, I have never been one to lie abed.”

  He stiffened. “You were consigned to your rooms? Because of me?”

  He
instantly regretted his impulsive words as her eyes flashed with annoyance. If he had learned nothing else it was that Lady Bianca fiercely desired to be in control of her own destiny.

  “Because of me. It was my decision to sneak away. You did not force me to go with you.”

  “I should hope not.” He deliberately lightened his tone. “I have no particular talent for forcing women to do anything. Quite the opposite, in fact. A woman need only flash me a smile and I am clay in her hands. A sad case, indeed.”

  “Fah.”

  Edward blinked in disbelief. “Fah?”

  “I do not believe you for a moment. I have no doubt you have left a string of broken hearts behind you in Kent.”

  His laugh echoed through the nearly empty park. Good God, did the woman imagine him some sort of rake?

  The mere notion was ludicrous.

  “You are far from the mark, muirnin. I have never been a gentleman of leisure. Being a farmer entails a great deal of work.”

  “But you have always loved it?”

  He paused before deciding her interest was genuine. “I will admit there were times when I found it confining when I was younger.”

  “Ah.” Her smile flashed once again. “You wished to be a dashing pirate or perhaps marching off to battle as a soldier?”

  “I fear not. My dreams have always been boringly practical.”

  “Then what did you find confining?” she demanded, not seeming to realize that the restless movement of her mount had brought her close enough for his senses to be filled with the heat and scent of her.

  He, on the other hand, was painfully aware of her proximity.

  As well as the fact they were very much alone.

  Oh lord, concentrate, Edward, he told himself.

  And not on the soft swell of her breast or the ease in which he could pluck her from her horse and have her straddled across his stirring groin.

  “My father was a good man. Loyal and devoted to his family and tenants, but he believed that the old ways were the best ways.” He gave an unconscious grimace. “He refused to even countenance my notions of implementing the latest farming practices.”

  “But you did?”

  “I have always been fascinated with the various innovations.” He gave a lift of his shoulder. “I studied journals and even traveled to estates where they were experimenting with field rotations and fertilizers. It was obvious that we could make our lands far more productive for ourselves and our tenants.”