The Bedding Proposal

by Tracy Anne Warren

  The gentleman on her left wasn’t much better, but for the opposite reason. Despite being a poet of some repute—she actually owned a copy of his latest book of sonnets—he had curiously little to say for himself. It would seem he preferred to let his verse do all his talking.

  As a result, she had plenty of time to watch the Bryon brothers when they weren’t busy watching her.

  At first, she’d puzzled over which man was which. After all, they truly were identical twins. But the longer she studied them, the more confident she became that she could distinguish the one from the other.

  Lord Leopold’s brother—she still didn’t know his given name—seemed the quieter of the two, taking more time to listen to his dinner companions than did Lord Leopold. He also had an interesting habit of running the tip of one finger along the table edge in between courses. Yet it was his eyes that had given the game away. They weren’t quite as green as Lord Leopold’s—with rings that were more the golden hue of a stalking cat. And unlike his brother, he didn’t look at her with desire, but with curiosity instead.

  As for Lord Leo, his green-gold eyes gleamed with a sensual hunger every time they fixed on her. In those moments, she found the force of his gaze almost shocking in its intensity. It was as if he would much rather be feasting on her than on his dinner.

  A fine tremor ran just under her skin at the thought, her fingers tightening on her fork again.

  “This might seem an impertinent question, Lady Thalia, but is there some . . . well . . . connection between you and Lord Leopold Byron?” Mr. Hetford asked, his question abruptly riveting her attention.

  She met his gaze. “No. Why would you imagine that?”

  Unless he had noticed the way Lord Leopold and his brother had been watching her. And if he had, then who else had?

  “Well, it is just that . . .” Hetford’s words trailed off.

  “Yes? Just what?”

  Why didn’t he simply come out and say what he was thinking instead of all this hesitation? It was amazingly annoying.

  “I did wonder why Lady Holland asked me to take you in to dinner.”

  “And why would she not?”

  “It is . . . um . . .”

  She ground her teeth. “Yes?”

  “It is my understanding that you were invited here at the express wish of Lord Leopold. When I saw the two of you talking earlier, it did make me wonder whether you and he might have—how should I put this?—an arrangement?”

  Air rushed from her lungs. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Yes, from what I understand, he approached one of Holland’s closest cronies and specifically requested your inclusion in the festivities here,” he continued. “The person who told me said the information wasn’t supposed to go any further, but since it applies to you directly, I didn’t see the harm.” A row of small lines creased Hetford’s brow. “You don’t mind that I mentioned it, do you?”

  She sent him a warm smile, one that caused him to blink several times in a row. “Of course not. I am glad that you did.” Underneath the table, her fingers curled into a fist, her nails biting into her skin.

  So Lord Leopold had made arrangements, had he? Why, that impudent, arrogant scoundrel. How dare he manipulate her in such a brazen manner? The gall of exposing her to ridicule and speculation when Lord knew she’d had more than enough of that to last her a lifetime.

  Long practice was the only reason she managed to keep her features calm, a serene smile on her lips despite the fact that her dinner was turning to acid in her stomach. Quietly, she laid down her fork and let the footman remove her plate.

  As for Lord Leopold, she refused to cast so much as a single glance his way. If only she had it all to do over, she would have thrown tonight’s glass of champagne in his face when she’d had the chance, after all.

  Or maybe poured it over his overinflated head!

  Of course everything made sense now about the invitation. She’d wondered at Lord and Lady Holland’s sudden wish to include her in one of their gatherings. If only she’d put more thought into their possible motivations.

  Or rather Lord Leopold’s motivations.

  Did he think she wouldn’t find out? Or did he just not care? Surely he must have considered how word would spread. Or was that his plan? Did he imagine that if everyone thought she was his mistress, she would unbend in her opposition to him and agree to the arrangement in truth?

  Well, he was in for a rude awakening on that score. See if she spoke a civil word to him for the rest of the party.

  Even so, a frigid rebuff on her part didn’t seem adequate enough recompense. She’d refused him numerous times already and he’d brushed it off like a duck feathering aside raindrops. No, she would need to do something more. Exact some appropriate measure of revenge. One he would not soon forget.

  But what?

  Hetford shifted in his seat, angling his body ever so slightly closer. “So . . . um . . . are you and Lord Leopold . . . that is . . . are you friends?”

  Lovers, she knew he meant.

  “No,” she said in a frosty voice. “We most definitely are not.”

  “Ah.” A small silence fell. “Then perhaps you and I might take time to further our own acquaintance.”

  Her fingernails dug into her palms again. She summoned another pleasant smile. “We could, but aren’t you married, Mr. Hetford?”

  “Well, yes, but that need not deter us.”

  Now she wished she could pour wine over his head. Loathsome man.

  “True, but what if your wife were to hear rumors?” she asked.

  “She’s at our country estate with the children. It’s unlikely she’d hear anything.”

  Thalia paused as if she were considering his suggestion. “Then again, word does travel, even when one doesn’t wish it to. Terrible shame if she were to receive a letter from some anonymous individual, telling her how you’ve really been spending your autumn here in the city.”

  He scowled.

  “Then too there is your father-in-law. Did he not play an active and influential part in helping you win your seat in the House of Commons? Close, aren’t they, your wife and her father?”

  He flinched, then scrubbed a finger against the side of his cheek. “Yes, very close.”

  “Then I doubt he would like hearing rumors about you and me.” She sighed and shook her head. “No, I think it best if we say no more on this subject. Or any of the others we’ve been discussing tonight for that matter. Agreed?”

  His eyes narrowed, his skin mottled with an odd mix of red and white. After a moment, he gave a jerky nod.

  She smiled. “Good. Ah, look now, I believe they are about to serve the cheese and sweet.”

  But Hetford wore a sour expression that made her doubt he was in the mood to partake of either. Deliberately, he turned his attention toward his dining partner on the other side.

  Without thinking, she glanced up and into the vivid green and gold of Lord Leopold’s eyes. Her pulse beat out a traitorous tattoo that warned her to look away. Instead, she met his boldness with boldness of her own, lifting a brow in sudden confrontation.

  His lips curved. Slowly he raised his glass and took a drink. She did the same, an idea forming in her mind as the cool liquid passed over her tongue and down her throat.

  The action allowed her to break away, her lashes sweeping down to conceal her expression. And in that instant, she knew exactly what she was going to do.

  * * *

  Leo watched Thalia from where he sat on the opposite side of the dining table. She’d surprised him when she’d met his gaze and held it. For a moment, there had been a definite measure of sensual challenge in her eyes before she had looked away, much to his disappointment.

  By Christ, what a beauty she is, he thought.

  Leaning back in his chair, he once again admired the pale creaminess of her skin and the lustrous sheen of her updrawn hair, which lay as dark as a raven’s wing against her head. Her mouth was lush, as ripe and sweet as
cherries. He’d been craving a taste of her ever since he’d sat down for the meal. What he wouldn’t give to get her alone.

  One of the footmen laid the next course in front of him.

  Across the table, another servant did the same for Thalia. Fruit and cheese were arranged on her plate. He didn’t bother looking to confirm that he had received the same.

  A new vintage of wine was poured. He raised the drink to his lips.

  Thalia picked up her fork and sank the tines into a grape. She lifted the fruit to her mouth. Rather than eat it, though, she ran the grape slowly along her bottom lip, back and forth, then back and forth again.

  Arousal pulsed through him, blood warming in his veins.

  Her eyes met his again—hers a warm, sultry brown that reminded him of the sleekest, softest mink.

  Her tongue slid out and swirled around the grape, then she began sucking on it, moving it between her lips.

  He turned instantly hard, feeling as if her tongue were swirling around his shaft instead of the fruit. Beneath the table, he fisted his hand against one taut thigh.

  She didn’t look away as she ate the grape, then reached for another. She slowly licked that one too.

  His erection gave another painful throb.

  Siren, he thought. She certainly knew how to torment a man. He looked forward to returning the favor one of these times soon. He could almost hear her breathy little gasps of pleasure now.

  Reaching out, he picked up his glass of wine. With his eyes still locked on hers, he raised the goblet in a silent salute, then tossed back the contents in a deep, single swallow.

  She blinked, her tongue stilling for a moment on the grape before she popped it into her mouth and chewed.

  A dozen footmen soon arrived to clear the course from the table. Then it was time for the sweet.

  Leo eyed the array of sugary treats laid before them, including a particularly creamy-looking chocolate mousse. He nearly groaned as Lady Thalia reached for her spoon.

  He was going to need more wine.

  Chapter 6

  It was working even better than she’d imagined, Thalia realized as she picked up her spoon.

  Maybe a little too well.

  From across the table she felt Lord Leopold’s jewel-bright gaze move over her like a slow caress. His eyelids were heavy with undisguised desire as he leaned casually back in his chair, drinking his wine and watching her.

  What had begun as a game had taken a quick turn into dangerous waters. But she wasn’t going to back down now. He deserved every bit of torment she could dish out. Then again, the devil didn’t look as if he seemed to mind. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying himself despite all the other people in the room.

  Well, she would see if she could rattle his indomitable composure with this next course.

  Dipping her spoon into the chocolate mousse, Thalia brought the confection to her lips and ran her tongue around it in long, slow gliding licks. She took her time, savoring every melting bit before she stuck the spoon into her mouth and sucked against it in a way that momentarily hollowed out her cheeks. The creamy sweet melted delectably in her mouth. She slid the spoon out again, then paused to run the edge of her tongue around the perimeter of her lips in a slow, wet glide.

  Lord Leopold’s eyes widened ever so slightly and he swallowed, his Adam’s apple moving up and down beneath his cravat. He shifted fractionally in his chair. A distinctly predatory expression came over his face as if he wanted to vault across the table and drag her out of the room so he could have his way with her.

  An unexpected shiver went through her, warmth curling in her veins at the thought.

  Truthfully, she hadn’t realized how easy it would be to arouse him. In spite of her reputation as an unprincipled temptress, this was the first time she’d ever tried to tease a man sexually. Gordon had never inspired such amorous play and after the divorce, she’d kept well clear of entanglements with men despite their best efforts to attract her. She was tired of being manipulated. She’d had more than enough of being controlled to last her a lifetime.

  Which was why she was going to teach Lord Leopold a much-deserved lesson. By the time this party was through, he would be grateful to see the last of her. And she would be equally grateful to be rid of him.

  Sliding her spoon into the mousse once more, she ate another bite at a slow, tortuous pace, aware of Lord Leopold’s keen gaze upon her.

  Then she laid her spoon aside and smiled across at him, deciding she’d made more than a satisfactory start to her plan.

  * * *

  Leo relaxed in his chair, paying only partial attention to the conversation around him. The ladies had withdrawn, leaving the gentlemen to their port and cigars. He supposed it was for the best, since he wasn’t sure how much more of Lady Thalia’s teasing he could have withstood.

  When Lady Holland had signaled for the women to leave the dining room, he’d been of half a mind to follow. He was sure there would have been some way to single out Lady Thalia, then convince her to find a secluded spot where they could tryst. Or better still, retire upstairs to one of the bedchambers.

  At this very moment, he could have had her lying naked and writhing beneath him amid warm silken sheets. Her little gasps of pleasure sounding in his ears as he sank himself deep into her aching flesh, her long arms and lush white thighs wrapped tightly around him.

  Presuming, of course, that she really had changed her mind and was now receptive to his amorous overtures. Clearly, she was playing games; he just wasn’t sure yet what kind.

  A short while later, Lord Holland drank a last swallow of port, then suggested all the men adjourn to the drawing room to rejoin the ladies. As Leo stood to leave, Lawrence came up beside him.

  “Interesting evening so far,” Lawrence remarked. “I eat my words about Lady Thalia ignoring you, no pun intended considering we just finished dinner.”

  Leo shot him a glance, then started from the room. Lawrence fell into step at his side.

  “Couldn’t help but notice the . . . umm . . . performance she put on during dessert,” Lawrence said in a low voice. “I half expected the air to combust between the two of you and melt everyone’s pudding.”

  Leo’s skin warmed at the memory, a slow smile moving across his lips. “She does have a way with a dessert spoon, doesn’t she?”

  “That she does.” Lawrence smiled briefly before his expression sobered again. “Look, I won’t waste my breath trying to warn you off her again, since I can see you’re determined to seek out the devil in your own way.”

  “You know me and the devil,” Leo quipped. “We’re old friends.”

  “Be that as it may, you need to remember that there’s far more to a woman than the comeliness of her face.”

  “I am well aware of the many and varied facets that make up the feminine half of humanity. You’re not turning philosopher on me, are you?”

  “No, just doing my duty as your brother. By the way, I’ve decided to return home in the morning.”

  “But we only just arrived.”

  Lawrence shrugged. “This is your show. You’ll enjoy yourself far more without me around.”

  Leo smiled. “Come to think, you’re right.”

  “I always am.”

  After entering the drawing room, he and Lawrence separated—Lawrence to find a few of his friends, while Leo went in search of Lady Thalia.

  He found her seated on a gold damask sofa between a pair of gentlemen who were avidly vying for her attention. A lighthearted laugh rippled from her throat at something one of them had just said.

  Leo came to a halt before her. She didn’t bother to look up, her interest apparently fixed on the man’s next words. The fellow murmured something in her ear that sent her into gales again.

  Leo ignored his rivals and made her a bow.

  She took a sip from the glass of ruby-hued cordial in her hand and responded to a new remark, this time from the man on her left.

  Leo’s jaw tightened. So sh
e was back to ignoring him again, was she? Blowing hot, then cold, in whatever game she had now decided to play.

  “Lady Thalia,” Leo said in a voice with too much authority to be dismissed.

  A long moment passed before she raised her caramel brown eyes to his. “Lord Leopold.”

  “I was wondering if you would accompany me for a stroll in the garden?”

  He wanted her alone, wanted to know exactly what she’d been about toying with him tonight and what she was planning on doing next. He, on the other hand, wanted to kiss her—long and hard and deeply enough to find out if she still tasted like chocolate mousse.

  “A stroll?” she said. “Now? Thank you, my lord, but no. I’m afraid it’s far too cold.”

  “Then I shall have one of the footmen fetch your cloak.” He refused to be daunted.

  “It is October. I do not walk out in October.”

  “You didn’t seem to mind the other day when we attended the Christie’s auction together.”

  Her sofa companions’ ears seemed to perk up at that bit of news.

  Her dark brows furrowed. “We did not attend together and the event was held indoors.”

  “Still, we had a most entertaining conversation,” he said affably. “Very well, if you won’t come out to the gardens, then let us take a tour of the house. The Hollands have an excellent picture gallery.”

  Her luminous eyes glittered. “So I have heard. Another time perhaps. I am quite comfortable where I am.”

  Stubborn minx. Thought she could tease him, then brush him aside, did she? She needed to learn that he was every inch as stubborn as she and then some.

  “All right, since you insist, I shall join you here,” he said.

  Unfortunately, the only unoccupied chair was several feet distant. With his hands tucked behind his back, he stood as she inclined her head to continue her conversation with the other two men.

  Leo fixed his gaze on Wilcox, a redhead with badly freckled skin and pale blue eyes. Wilcox glanced up at him, then away, looking distinctly uncomfortable that he was being watched. He responded to something Thalia said, but his words lacked the proper focus and enthusiasm as if his thoughts were elsewhere.