Seven Nights of Sin: Seven Sensuous Stories by Bestselling Historical Romance Authors

by Victoria Vane

  She put down the plate and licked the cream from her lips.

  “You have missed a bit, here.” He ran a thumb over her bottom lip.

  Her mouth tingled beneath his touch, and she hastily dabbed it with a napkin. “I am committed to my orphanage, but there’s a limit to what I will do to achieve it.” She climbed to her feet and brushed down her skirts. “I have enjoyed the picnic. Would you please take me back to Hartnoll House?”

  Lord Eaglestone had jumped up. He called for his groom. “Miss Lacey, have I said something to distress you?”

  “I am not distressed in the least. I am merely conscious of the time, sir.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  BLAST. HE’D BECOME CARELESS. He’d been caught by the delightful view of Miss Lacey baring her creamy throat in the act of swallowing an oyster, popping lush strawberries between her perfect, Cupid’s-bow lips, and the glimpse of frothy petticoats and a neat ankle as she smoothed down her skirts. While planning further delights to tempt her, he’d made her believe he expected her to offer herself in exchange for his support of her charity. If he was brutally honest, he had hoped one act would follow the other. Never as a bargaining tool, however, or payment in kind. He found himself disconcerted. While he enjoyed the seduction of many women, all of them lovely, and all of them more than willing, he’d never liked them or enjoyed their company quite as much as he did Miss Lacey. He was also surprised. He was arrogant enough to know not many women rejected his advances.

  “We’d best get you back to Hartnoll House.” He offered her his arm as the groom returned the hamper to the carriage.

  Derrick settled the silent Miss Lacey beside him on the squab, and the coachman drove them back to Cheapside. He drew out his notebook and jotted down ideas with his fountain pen.

  At least that produced a response from Miss Lacey. She leaned toward him with a waft of flowery scent. “May I inquire if that concerns me?”

  “Just a list of the most urgent things in need of attention.”

  “You mean for Hartnoll House? You agree to become our patron?” Her voice trembled.

  Her sparkling smile made him feel like a schoolboy who’d just hit the ball for six playing cricket. “But of course.”

  Although Hartnoll House was a worthy cause, the magnitude of his pleasure surprised him. Perhaps it was best if, when he’d organized the finances required to begin the repairs, he placed the matter in her hands. The regret that decision caused him was inconvenient to say the least. It was all very well to gain her gratitude, but regretfully, he had wanted much more than that.

  Bella remained sitting as far apart from him as the carriage allowed. The distance between them seemed unnaturally wide. Although she was clearly pleased, the rapport they’d shared before the kiss had evaporated. His ability to charm a woman into his arms seemed to have deserted him. Perhaps, due to his admiration for her, he’d lost the thrill of the chase. Certainly, no one had impressed him as she did. She was different from any woman he’d met. And that difference made her someone not to be trifled with. Fortunately, she’d already made it plain there was to be nothing between them on a personal level. Gently reared young women like Miss Lacey married the man. And it was entirely possible that he would never marry. At least while his mad cousin remained determined to kill him.

  Derrick could deal with whatever Hector threw at him. He was good with his fists and an accurate shot. He refused to place a woman’s life in danger, however. The grim situation between Hector and him would not change until one of them was dead, either his cousin or himself.

  “I am beholden to you, my lord.”

  He looked up and smiled at her warm words. She had forgiven him. “Nonsense. I shall be repaid—with good feelings,” he hurriedly added.

  She looked around to view the area they passed through. “I hope I won’t be late. The coachman will report back to my father.”

  “We’ll arrive with time to spare.”

  He had the urge to tease her out of her serious mood. For all her posturing, it had been plain that she’d enjoyed the kiss and was not being entirely honest with herself. Miss Lacey longed for adventure; Hartnoll House was proof of it. In addition, she had gone willingly to the picnic with him. His reputation was no secret. Dammit, a man knew when a woman fancied him. She couldn’t hide her attraction to him, although she tried to dismiss it.

  “Can’t have you in trouble with your father. It may curb your liberty.” He raised a brow. “I suspect you enjoy your liberty, Miss Lacey.”

  ***

  Eaglestone’s observation caused Bella to shift on the seat. As if he could see into her very soul. As if he’d made a study of her. She sat up straighter. She must not try to read innuendo into everything he said. It was her fault; she should never have considered him a possible lover.

  When he bowed his head to jot down more notes, she gathered her wits to offer suggestions. “The worst are the rotten floor boards in some of the rooms, which are quite dangerous. And broken tiles on the roof cause a lot of damage.”

  “Some of the first things I’ve listed,” he said. “It will take a large amount of capital. But no matter.”

  Her heart sang—the children given a good start, rescued from a life of ignorance and poverty, from which no child could ever rise.

  She observed him from beneath her lashes. She’d be in danger of losing her heart if they shared a passionate night together. There was something about him that went beyond his obvious attractiveness. A vulnerability that called to her. Once she’d decided against it, however, the world seemed cast in a greyed light. There would be no thrilling memories. Her future lay in facing Lord Maudling every morning at breakfast. The vision of the dreary life ahead made her reckless. She turned to Eaglestone, desperate for more, to breach his defenses and banish the hollow feeling around her heart.

  “I’ve heard rumors about you,” she said, probing for a response. “I’m sure they are horrid fabrications.”

  He returned his notebook and pen to his pocket, regarding her. “You are defending me?”

  “I don’t believe in gossip. I take people as I find them.”

  He raised his brows. “A man might be inclined to show a lady his best side.”

  “Have you been guilty of doing so?”

  He laughed and folded his arms as the carriage came to a standstill at a crossing. “I confess I may well have done. A pretty woman does tend to affect us foolish men in that way.”

  “I don’t dislike chivalry, if that is what you mean,” she said carefully.

  He raised a brow. “It is not what I meant, Bella. You are too intelligent not to know I was speaking of seduction. The attraction between a woman and man, which can lead to intimacy. If encouraged by both parties.”

  She gasped at his bald statement. He filled the seat, his shoulders a whisker from hers, making her aware of how big and strong he was. How male. He became the rake as naturally as a hawk pounced on its prey. She couldn’t fool this man; he’d always been several steps ahead of her. Eaglestone had experience of life, which she, in her sheltered upbringing, could only guess at. He could easily deal with a naïve person like her. And should he wish, he could just as easily get what he wanted from her. She leaned back weakly against the squab as if she’d been stripped naked.

  “You are a beguiling young woman,” he continued in his ruthless manner. “You would evoke carnal thoughts in any man.”

  She widened her eyes at his frankness while aware that he kept his armor well intact, adroitly drawing the conversation away from the subject of his past, and those rumors.

  “I now see that you were right in helping others less fortunate than yourself. It does lift one’s spirits,” he said. “I have benefited already.”

  “I’m pleased.” She searched for sincerity in his gaze, dreading to find a rake’s callous amusement. The dark suspicion she’d found on their first meeting was absent. What a mystery he proved to be. She had a strong urge to discover more about him. A generous man
to those less fortunate but contemptuousness of his peers. She urged herself not to be tempted to try to heal a damaged rake.

  As the carriage crawled along a main thoroughfare, the road busy with carts, omnibuses, and carriages, and the pavement crowded with pedestrians, she eyed his starkly handsome profile.

  “Has there really been an attempt made on your life?” she persisted.

  “An exaggeration of the facts, as most rumors prove to be,” he said dismissively.

  “Do you know who was behind it?”

  “Yes.”

  After an uncomfortable pause, she accepted that he wouldn’t tell her. If she pursued it, she might anger him. He might change his mind about supporting the orphanage. Still, she couldn’t let it go entirely. “Are you sure it won’t happen again?” she asked, gentling her voice.

  He raised his brows, and when he placed his arm along the back of the seat behind her, it brought them closer. “You seem concerned for my safety, Miss Lacey.”

  She breathed in his cologne and his unique male smell. The heat of his body permeated along her thigh through her dress, sending her thoughts whirling. He knew his proximity unsettled her; it was a ploy to distract her and make her stop asking questions. She averted her eyes from the wide expanse of chest in the striped waistcoat, revealed by his open coat.

  “I don’t like to think of you in danger.”

  He leaned forward and lifted her chin with a finger. She breathed in. Would he kiss her again? She was unsettled to discover she wanted him to. Very much. And she usually knew her own mind.

  He dropped his hand. “You mustn’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

  But all of a sudden, she was. Most dreadfully worried. Kiss me. She was tempted to throw herself into his arms and seek his assurance.

  His hand curled over her shoulder. “You’re trembling, Miss Lacey.” His gaze settled on her mouth, and for a moment, she feared she’d expressed her wish aloud.

  The carriage stopped, jerking them back against the squab. Breathless, Bella looked up. They’d arrived at Hartnoll House. Mary stood waiting on the porch.

  With a look of regret, Lord Eaglestone jumped down and held out his hand to assist her. “I shall write to you with my suggestions for repairs to the orphanage,” he said with a bow. “Then we can proceed.”

  “Thank you, sir. I’m very grateful for your generosity.” With the imprint of his big hand in hers, she watched him leap back into the carriage and settle his top hat over his dark hair. His brougham disappeared around the corner just as her father’s carriage arrived.

  Bella directed the coachman to the milliner’s address and sat back. “What have you been doing, Mary? Did you help the housekeeper while I was gone, as I instructed?”

  “Yes, Miss Lacey. I did so enjoy it. Those children are such scamps. Do you think your mother will let me come again?”

  “If you don’t mention my drive with Lord Eaglestone, I’ll ask mother.”

  “Ooh, thank you, Miss Lacey.”

  Bella watched the busy streets pass by. Lord Eaglestone refused to indulge her curiosity. He was most intriguing. She didn’t want their relationship conducted through letters, although it was now unlikely that her sinful night would take place with him, or any other man. Only a few weeks remained before her parents went to Brighton to attend the wedding of a business associate of her father’s. She had persuaded them to allow her to stay behind with Gran, who went to bed with the chickens.

  And if it couldn’t be Eaglestone, she didn’t want any man.

  CHAPTER SIX

  AFTER DINNER, Bella visited her grandmother in her suite of rooms on the second floor while her father fussed with the drinks tray and her mother played the piano in the dining room. She found Gran in her favorite chair with a fire in the grate, despite the warm evening. She was knitting a scarf for Bella’s father.

  Bella settled on the rug at her feet and watched the swift clattering needles. She hugged her knees and told her about Eaglestone.

  Gran put down her knitting and eyed Bella over the top of her eyeglasses. “So you’ve met an Eaglestone, have you?”

  “The viscount has promised to become a patron of Hartnoll House.”

  “My, my.”

  “Did you know the family, Gran?”

  “I knew the young viscount’s father in my youth. His estate was in the same county. We danced at assemblies, and for a while, I hoped he might court me.” Gran paused, and her eyes lost focus as if gazing back into her girlhood. She took up her knitting again. “My father didn’t approve of them. He had other plans for me.”

  Bella wondered if Gran was sorry that she’d married Bella’s grandfather. He’d died when she was a baby. In the picture Gran had of him on her dresser in a silver frame, he appeared rather long-faced and humorless.

  “A handsome man was Christian,” Gran said. “All the Eaglestones are good looking. Bit of the rebel in them too.”

  “Rebellious? In what way?”

  “Unorthodox, one might say. None of them showed any inclination to fit in with society’s mores. By the sound of it, this young viscount might be cut from the same cloth. Never bad men, though. A bit wild in their youth is all.”

  “One hears such nasty gossip,” Bella said. “It is said Lord Eaglestone shot a man in a duel. And that he’s a rake.”

  “I can believe he’s a rake. I find it hard to believe he shot a man in a duel. An Eaglestone wouldn’t bother to fight a duel of honor. Such events never interested them. Not that they weren’t capable of shooting straight.” She adjusted her shawl over her shoulders. “Big, sporty men, most of them. Christian’s horsemanship was lauded. He was always winning races in his phaeton. It’s ludicrous to think his son fought a duel. They were outlawed years ago. Why, he would have been forced to leave the country or been imprisoned.”

  “It does seem farfetched. Another rumor is more concerning.”

  Gran tilted her head like an inquisitive bird. “What about?”

  “I heard an attempt has been made on his life.”

  Gran wound the wool around her finger and nodded thoughtfully. “I wonder if it might be a family matter. Lord Frederick had control of young Derrick’s estate before he came of age. He died some years ago. His son, Hector, is a complete and utter scoundrel by all accounts. Frederick married a mad woman who would have ended up in Bethlem Asylum had she lived. It’s said his son is tarred with the same brush.” Her sharp blue eyes studied Bella’s face. “You like this viscount, don’t you?”

  Fear for Eaglestone tightened her ribcage. “His lordship’s been most generous, but what I think of him is hardly of any consequence.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Papa plans for me to marry Lord Maudling. And I doubt Lord Eaglestone is interested.”

  “Look in the mirror, gel.”

  “Oh, Gran, London is full of attractive women. And Papa isn’t a member of the peerage. He made his money in industry.”

  “He was knighted for his contribution to society.”

  “Years ago,” Bella said thoughtfully. “I wonder why he resists my efforts to do the same.”

  “He has financial concerns, and there’s been your mother’s health to distract him. Your sweet nature and pretty face are a prize for any man, and don’t forget it, Bella. Never sell yourself too cheap.”

  Bella refrained from admitting she had little say in whom she married. Gran was the one person she could confide in, but even so, there were things better kept to oneself. For what could Gran do? She rose and kissed her papery cheek. “Thank you, Gran. I do love you.”

  Gran pattered her fondly. “If you marry an Eaglestone, I’ll be more than happy. They are vital, interesting men. They won’t expect you to become part of the furniture, merely there to make their lives more comfortable. Life would never be dull.”

  Bella sighed. No chance of that. She wondered if Gran’s life had been less than satisfying and whether her father’s childhood had been miserable. Her moth
er’s father, by comparison, had been a generous soul. He’d always been in Bella’s corner.

  “I’m leaving for Bath tomorrow for a week. Mrs. Watson and I plan to take the waters,” Gran said. “Keep me abreast of any good news. Your father will furnish my direction.”

  “I will. I promise.” Apart from any correspondence from Eaglestone, she doubted there’d be much good news to impart.

  Her father entered the room with a glass of sherry for Gran. “We leave for the country tomorrow,” he said to Bella.

  She gasped. Might he have overheard their conversation? “Oh, not so soon, Papa. Weren’t we to remain in London until your trip to Brighton?”

  He studied her coolly. “I’ve changed my mind. Go and assist your maid to pack your clothes.”

  Bella went to her bedroom, her legs leaden. Her father obviously intended to bring her and Lord Mauling together. Their country house lay a few miles from Maudling’s. He was their nearest neighbor and often dined with them while they also attended parties at his mansion. He never missed an opportunity to put his chubby hands on her. Once he’d pinched the flesh of her upper arm, as if judging a bird for the pot. She wished Gran would be there. Bella didn’t want to upset her mother; her illness had left her delicate.

  The next day, her father, with steely determination in his eyes, swept them off to Surrey.

  Several days passed without word from Eaglestone. She checked the silver salver on the hall table again. Nothing. Disappointed, she donned her wide-brimmed hat and set out for a long walk. Climbing a stile, she crossed a field where black-and-white cows watched her with calm, black eyes. She reached her favorite spot by the river, a copse of willows, and rested her back against a tree, opening her book. She tried to read Jane Eyre as her thoughts wandered to Lord Eaglestone’s tawny eyes. His smile completely altered his face and made him dreadfully handsome. She sighed, leaned back, and closed her eyes. The book dropped into her lap.

  “Ah, here you are. I thought I spied you earlier.”