Miss Radley's Third Dare

by Heather Boyd

  “Your family could be a problem.” Sir Peter slapped his back. “Sounds like you have your work cut out for you. Good luck convincing her to take you on. With parents like yours, and that acid tongue of your sister’s in the mix, you might have only a slim chance.”

  “Was that why she ran from me? Because of my family?” He shook his head, appalled by that suggestion.

  “Perhaps in part, but I suspect she really refused because she’s infatuated with someone else.”

  Anthony Linden. He shook his head. “Still? I thought she would have seen through Mr. Linden’s overblown accomplishments by now.”

  Sir Peter appeared surprised. “You knew about that and still asked her to marry you?”

  Valentine shrugged, unconcerned with the idea of Julia and Anthony Linden. “I’ve never believed Linden was at all serious about Julia. Melanie mentioned it ages ago. A terrible match, she termed it.”

  “Perhaps. She’s very interested in Linden’s life and his plans. He’s undertaking an expedition to conquer Scafell Pike in the summer. Julia wanted to go so very much but Linden mentioned only fellows, you included.”

  He nodded slowly. She would undoubtedly relish the challenge of a dangerous climb as another means of testing her strength and endurance. “Julia is always drawn to the unusual.”

  “However would you satisfy her adventurous spirit?”

  That was a question he hadn’t considered. Julia was not like other women. He couldn’t see her being satisfied with the life his sister had been groomed for. His interests in his budding career would keep him in Brighton indefinitely. “I don’t know.”

  “Good answer.” Peter slapped his hand down on the table. “It’s best to decide these things together anyway. I’ve learned never to think too far ahead if I want peace at home.”

  “Interesting. Married a few months and already a master of the subject.”

  “A student of Imogen,” Peter corrected. “And a happy man. I highly recommend you take up a similar study of your own quarry.”

  “Obviously.” Which meant, if he was serious about making Julia his wife, he had to court her properly. Next time Valentine spoke to Julia, he would make sure she understood he admired her tenacity, and long before he attempted another kiss. His backside still hurt and he shifted again. He would find out what she wanted most or die trying. Hopefully his pursuit would not come to such a final end. She hadn’t exactly refused him so he would ask again just to be certain.

  “So, are you coming?”

  Valentine blinked. “Where?”

  “The lady under discussion is visiting my wife at this very moment.”

  Well, that solved the immediate problem of seeing her without appearing overly eager. “If nothing else, I can apologize for last night.”

  Peter paused at the door and raised one finger. “If I might offer some advice; never apologize for wanting to kiss a woman. She would see it as an insult. Women like to feel irresistible as much as we men do.”

  Valentine nodded and followed Sir Peter. “So wise, my lord.”

  His friend snorted. “Don’t call me that.”

  Sir Peter hadn’t quite come to grips with his elevation to baronet, and Valentine did enjoy tweaking his nose about it by using his title as often as possible in private.

  Teresa met them in the hall, carrying her sewing. “Are you going out again?”

  He nodded. “To Sir Peter’s home.”

  Teresa sighed heavily, as she did so often now. It was as if she feared outside that door was another scandal just waiting for him to step into.

  For a moment he feared Sir Peter would invite her, but when his friend remained silent, he breathed a sigh of relief. He did not want to begin a courtship with his cousin laughing at him from across the room. “I will try not to be too late,” he told her before stepping out and following Sir Peter to his door a few houses down.

  Animated laughter filled the Watsons’ house, and he smiled as Julia chortled. She did like to laugh a great deal. She was perched beside Imogen, her hands above her head as if she were about to toss a ball. “Charades?”

  Her hands dropped as their gazes met. “No.”

  Imogen nodded to him. “Julia is something of a hero today. She singlehandedly prevented a robbery by the judicious use of two oranges.”

  “A robbery? Where?”

  “On the foreshore. And she wasn’t the only hero. I did my part and chased the villain away,” Sir Peter complained.

  Imogen laughed softly. “And you gave splendid chase, darling, even if you fell far behind in the end.”

  Valentine sank into a chair across from them and awaited further explanation. Neither lady appeared ruffled by the experience so he concluded no one had been harmed. “What happened?”

  Julia shrugged. “A thief snatched a lady’s reticule and tried to run off with it.”

  “So what did you do with the oranges?”

  “I threw them.” She toyed with her gloves, eyes downcast. “Stunned the man enough with the second that he dropped what he had taken.”

  “Good grief.” He reeled at the danger she’d placed herself in by taking on the attacker. “Thank heavens your early morning exercises found a use.”

  Julia gave him an odd look. “What do you know of that?”

  “How could anyone miss the hours you practice? Tossing balls into hoops, lifting heavy objects, running jumps with your skirts up to your knees when you think no one can see you. You never stop moving.” Melanie had kept him appraised of her many indiscretions over the years, and he’d seen enough with his own eyes to glimpse her commitment to testing her limits. Still, attacking assailants was dangerous. “What would you have done if he’d turned around and tried to harm you?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I won’t be bullied.”

  “I wasn’t trying to harm you last night,” he replied calmly, stopping short of an apology. “But the next thief you meet might turn around and finish what he’d started. Do you know how to defend yourself?”

  She licked her lips and cast a nervous glance at the Watsons. “I know enough to best you.”

  “I would not count on it in every situation. Very few gentlemen would teach their sisters this but I have shown Melanie how to protect herself. She refused to believe that such instruction was required and so far that has been the case.” He gestured to her. “Stand up.”

  “Why?”

  He stood and took off his coat. “Because if you’re going to start attacking the criminal element, you might as well learn to fight like one. I will teach you.”

  “You’re joking?”

  “Not at all.” He looked around the room. It would have to be here and now. He may never get another chance. “I’d rather not hear that you’ve been hurt through folly.”

  Imogen stood, hiding a smile as her husband began to move smaller furniture and trinkets out of the way. When they had a clear space, standing on opposite sides of the carpet, Valentine faced her. Julia appeared skeptical.

  “I’m going to grab you.”

  He lunged without further warning, caught her arm and turned her about so her arm was twisted against her back.

  She yelped in surprise and pain. “Valentine!”

  He glanced behind him to see if the way was clear. “Now you need to make me release you. One way is to push me back into a wall, hard, in the hopes I’ll let go. Do it.”

  Julia pushed but he resisted with all his strength. He was impressed by her efforts, but not enough to let her win.

  “I can’t shift you,” Julia protested.

  Sir Peter folded his arms over his chest, his expression serious as he observed them. “Another way might be to smash your heel into his toes, kick back at his shins, or reach behind to gouge out his eyes.”

  Valentine loosened his grip immediately before she could enact any of his suggestions and Julia stepped free, rubbing her wrist.

  “Do you have any questions?”

  “No.” She turned away and Valentine
grabbed her again, this time winding his arm about her chest. He held her tight against him and, being taller, lifted her feet clear of the floor. She struggled valiantly but her determination was no match for his strength. Even though her fingers dug under his to loosen his grip, he wouldn’t give up.

  She reached for his face and as soon as her fingertips touched his skin, he jerked his head aside. “If Sir Peter hadn’t been there, you might have given chase,” he whispered into her ear. “What if the bounder had possessed a knife?”

  Her breath caught.

  The little fool hadn’t thought of her own safety for one moment. “Taking on thieves is dangerous. How will you escape me now?”

  He slid his free arm around her waist, completing his hold on her. She wasn’t soft or pliant but made of steel. Even so, she was heaven to hold.

  The reason behind his sudden proposal snapped into being—he liked women who enjoyed adventurous bed play. Julia might be that sort of woman one day, if she was carefully introduced to the possibilities.

  He sucked in a sharp breath, filling his lungs with the scent of honeysuckle as she turned her face as far as she could.

  “I don’t know,” she growled in obvious frustration, then bit her lip. Her lashes fluttered and he was lost.

  God help him, despite the watchful company about them, he was growing aroused by her. He fought his response, determined to hide this private side of his nature.

  “Think quickly.” He placed her feet to the floor.

  Julia turned in his arms until she was facing him and before he could jump back, her knee rested against his groin. She balanced on one foot, her hands fisted into his shirtfront.

  Her eyes met his, triumphant. Excited. “How about that?”

  Valentine pushed her knee away from his privates. Secretly impressed but so glad she’d not maimed him. “If you had used any force at all, your assailant would have been howling in pain.”

  “Good to know for next time.”

  Valentine moved closer and splayed his fingers across her hip. “Be careful, minx. Someone is always likely to be stronger than you.”

  “I know.” Her gaze softened and she licked her lip. “Thank you for the instruction. You’re the only one who has ever treated me like one of the fellows.”

  He stared at her lips. “You haven’t the faintest idea of how I think of you.”

  Julia swallowed.

  A throat cleared. Two throats, in fact. Valentine glanced beyond Julia to find both Imogen and Peter hovering at the door. Both appeared uncomfortable and he understood why. He’d promised himself he would not rush into kissing her again, and he wouldn’t. But he wanted to very much. That much should be clear to anyone. He stepped back. “I should be going.”

  Julia’s face fell. “So soon?”

  He nodded quickly, pleased that she sounded disappointed. “As much as I enjoyed this, I suggest you don’t mention today to your brother.”

  “The less Linus knows the better,” she agreed. “As it is, when he hears about the Faraday incident he will undoubtedly be cross again.”

  “What do the Faradays have to do with you?”

  “That’s the lady whose reticule was snatched today.” She smiled a little sadly. “They were very shocked.”

  He could also imagine Faraday’s pride being bruised because the slip of a girl he’d complained about had rescued his wife’s possession. The incident didn’t bode well for the man’s continued support. “One can only hope his shock remains until Sunday.”

  “What happens on Sunday?”

  “The start or end of my hopes.” He bowed to her but didn’t elaborate. “Good day, Miss Radley. Sir Peter, Lady Watson. Thank you for an enjoyable afternoon.”

  Five

  Watching other people dance all night was a bore. However, until one was asked, a lady had no choice but to stand on the sidelines. Julia had danced twice, once with Sir Peter, no doubt at his wife’s urging, and once with Mr. George, who hadn’t seemed his usual cheerful self. No one else had bothered to approach her. It had so far been one of the most mortifying nights of her life.

  “Stop fidgeting,” Linus whispered out the corner of his mouth.

  “I should have stayed at home rather than endure this.” At home, she could practice what Valentine had shown her of defending herself instead of watching everyone else have fun. At present, all of their friends were occupied, either dancing together or mingling with Brighton society in a way she no longer could.

  “You won’t find a husband if you remain unseen,” Linus hissed.

  The musicians struck up a new tune that had her toe tapping. She wished Anthony Linden would ask her to dance tonight but he twirled about on the dance floor with other women, having the time of his life. “But if I had stayed at home, I wouldn’t be whispered about or stared at.”

  Linus glanced around. “Then make sure they see you at your best.”

  Her best wasn’t what anyone wanted to see, she suspected. Tonight, even the Faradays had given her a wide berth, despite the good she had done for them in thwarting a robbery. It wasn’t fair. “I have a headache.”

  “You do not. We will stay until the last set and walk home with everyone as usual.”

  “At least I will be among friends then.”

  Linus grunted. He had been glued to her side all night, making sure she behaved. That didn’t stop some gentlemen from smirking at her when he wasn’t watching, and she hated that most of all.

  Julia clapped along with everyone else when the final set ended but her heart wasn’t in the evening. She glanced longingly for the terrace doorway but her gaze landed on Valentine Merton. He stood on the far side of the room, beside his cousin, and appeared to be having a very nice time too. Valentine’s cousin was staring at him, her gaze full of warmth…and something she’d never noticed before as he led her to the door to take their leave.

  Julia’s stomach twisted. She knew that look. It was the same expression Imogen wore when she teased her husband.

  Love.

  Mortification filled her and she glanced away quickly, sure she had seen something not meant for her eyes. Since the race, Teresa had been cool to her, almost disapproving. She bit her lip and joined everyone else in leaving but there was no escaping her conclusions.

  Ahead, Valentine and his cousin strolled along arm in arm. They always did so, now that Melanie was gone from their company. And as she observed their ease with each other, she began to feel sick to her stomach. What was Valentine doing proposing to her when his cousin clearly had feelings for him?

  Linus grabbed her arm and tugged. “Keep up.”

  Valentine glanced over his shoulder and met her gaze. He frowned slightly.

  Julia forced a smile and stumbled along, trying to work out how she’d never noticed Teresa’s partiality for her cousin before. The woman shared his house. Did Teresa share a deeper intimacy with him, now that Melanie was not there to prevent it?

  Imogen dropped back to her side while Sir Peter distracted her brother with plans for tomorrow. “You didn’t enjoy yourself tonight?”

  “Not particularly.” She shook her head to clear it. She should not be thinking of Valentine Merton beyond friendship. “I’ve never enjoyed being idle for an entire evening. What I need is a really long run if I’m to get any sleep.”

  Imogen stared ahead. “But you did enjoy tea this afternoon. It seemed as though you thrived on the instruction offered.”

  She was such a fool. Valentine had no real interest in her if he was loved by Teresa. She would make him a perfectly respectable wife. “I did then.” She sighed. “Such an afternoon will never happen again though.”

  “Are you sure that would be true?” Imogen squeezed her hand. “A certain gentleman seemed very intent on your education. I imagine if you accepted, he would not change, but grow bolder with you.”

  A flush of warmth filled her cheeks. She had enjoyed her time with Valentine. “A whim, I’m sure. Nothing more.”

  Imogen
fell silent. “I am having a great deal of trouble imagining Melanie participating in such instruction.”

  “Melanie would never raise her knee to a man’s groin,” she murmured softly. Much less tolerate such a scandalous embrace. “She would have fainted to have seen me with her brother today.”

  “I shall have to find out if he’s instructed Teresa in the same manner.”

  The idea of Valentine’s arms tight around Teresa Long’s body made her unreasonably irritated, and she was glad to see her doorway ahead. “No doubt he has,” she ground out.

  Imogen caught her arm. “Julia, whatever is the matter now?”

  “Nothing.” She kissed her friend’s cheek and forced her annoyance away. “Good night, Imogen.”

  She fled inside without a backward glance, hurried up to her room and slammed the door shut. Once inside though, she paced her room. There was no way she could sleep tonight, not as restless as she was. Not as confused as she had become.

  Valentine and Teresa? It wasn’t possible, and yet…

  She threw open her window and glanced out into the night. The moon was up, but the patchy clouds offered sufficient cover. A fast sprint up and down the lane in secret should do the trick and rid her mind of her speculation before sleep. Everyone would be going to bed soon and she could be back before her brother even realized.

  She stripped off her fine gown to change into a practical one, making sure to secure her brother’s old breeches underneath, and then laced up her feet in a pair of sturdy shoes.

  After assuring herself her brother was in bed and snoring, she threw her leg over the windowsill and made her escape.

  A few feet from the ground, she was grabbed from behind and a warm, bare hand clamped over her mouth.