The Mammoth Book of Regency Romance

by Trisha Telep

  His words thrilled her beyond comprehension. “You have not changed at all,” she said, and nearly tripped on her words when she heard a gasp from nearby.

  Heat rushed up her neck as she realized what it must sound like to others. To her, he had not changed. She did not see the scar that covered his cheek, jaw and neck . . . but rather, the face she had adored for a lifetime.

  “I wish that were true,” he said warmly, and she shifted on her feet, wishing she could recant the words. She opened her mouth to explain herself, when Jack glanced beyond her shoulder and grinned.

  “Ah, there you are, Seeton.”

  Addy straightened her spine. Stephan Browning, Lord Seeton – her current suitor – bowed at the waist while lifting her gloved hand to his lips and kissing the air above her fingers.

  “Miss Adelaide, I am so sorry I am late.” He squeezed her hand. “May I have the next dance?”

  Stephan’s golden locks were swept off his forehead, and he wore a perfectly tailored, dark-grey suit that fitted his tall frame nicely. His blue eyes crinkled at the corners as his gaze shifted slowly from her to Roan. He forced a smile and quickly averted his eyes.

  She bit back her disappointment in him.

  “Well, will you dance with me, Miss Addy?” Stephan asked.

  “Yes, of course. I look forward to it.”

  Stephan nodded, and departed as quickly as he’d appeared, saying something about greeting his uncle.

  “Lord Seeton is Addy’s beau,” Jack said with a wink.

  Roan’s dark brows lifted in surprise. “You have a beau, Addy.”

  The way he said her name made her blood run warm.

  “He is not exactly a beau, as much as a friend.”

  “Do not listen to her. She is being far too coy. Seeton is one of many suitors, I might add. Our little Addy is quite the toast of the ton this season. She had her coming out in June and the house has not been silent since.”

  Addy could feel her blush deepen. “You exaggerate, Jack.”

  “I wish I did,” Jack said glumly. “Addy, you have cast a spell on the young men of our fair city.”

  “I can certainly understand why,” Roan said, and the compliment delighted her.

  “Thank you, My Lord,” she said, biting her bottom lip. “I am so very glad you approve. I have always looked to Jack as a father, and you as—”

  “An uncle,” Jack said with a slight smirk to his lips.

  There was something in Roan’s eyes that made her pause. Could it be that he was finally seeing her for the young woman she was? How long had she hoped for such a day?

  The music stopped and, as a new song began, she gave another curtsey. “It is wonderful to see you again, Roan. We have sorely missed you. I do so hope you will not be a stranger while you are in London.”

  “Roan is returning to Oak Hill tomorrow,” Jack said, taking a sip of punch.

  “You are leaving so soon?” she asked, trying to hide her disappointment but failing miserably.

  Roan cleared his throat. “I was considering leaving.”

  “Jack, you must talk him into staying with us for a while.”

  “I have already invited him to stay, but Roan seems quite determined to leave us.”

  “Perhaps I shall stay for a little white longer then,” Roan said abruptly.

  Her heart nearly leaped from her chest, and she could not keep the grin from her lips. “I am so very glad. That is wonderful news!”

  Roan could not believe the beauty standing before him was Addy Bruce. His best friend’s little sister had always been a mischievous, independent girl, who wore her hair in two braids on either side of her oval face, and had a hankering for getting into trouble. She always did exactly as she liked, never one for going with the crowd. Jack had often said that she was more like a little brother than a sister. He called her “Little Miss Independent”. The title suited her.

  He couldn’t say that any longer. There was nothing masculine – or childlike, for that matter – about the woman standing before him. The plaits were gone and Addy’s auburn hair was worn in a simple chignon that complemented her fragile features. Her green eyes were extraordinary, framed by thick dark lashes, and held a wisdom that belied her eighteen years. Her body had filled out in all the right places, with full breasts, a tiny waist and slightly curved hips. And, dear God, her legs were long.

  Even more astonishing than her transformation from tomboy to beautiful young debutante was the shock that she did not react to his wound like everyone else had. She had not so much as blinked or stared at the hated scar. There had been warmth and excitement in her gaze, and he felt completely overwhelmed by such a welcome.

  As the musicians began playing a waltz, she glanced away. “I must meet Lord Seeton on the dance floor,” she said with a soft smile before excusing herself.

  With his heart pumping like mad, he watched her walk off, staring at her slender back and the gentle sway of her hips as she made her way to the dance floor and the arms of her suitor.

  “It’s hard to believe she’s our Addy, isn’t it?” Jack said, a hint of surprise in his words.

  “Indeed,” Roan replied, pulling his gaze away with force, still trying to grasp the reality that the lovely creature now dancing with Lord Seeton was Adelaide Bruce. Addy, who as a child used to drive him crazy with her impulsive nature. His stomach clenched as he watched her move with such grace, her smile radiant as she stared up at her partner and laughed at something he said. The two were a striking young couple, and to Roan’s surprise, he was jealous.

  “How long has he been calling on Addy?” Roan asked before he could stop himself.

  “Nearly two months now, I’d say. I do believe he will be asking for her hand very, very soon.”

  “Hideous.”

  Roan heard a woman say the devastating word from nearby. When he turned to glance at her, the small group of women were watching him, but quickly looked away.

  He clenched his fists, wincing at the pain that shot through his right hand as the skin pulled tight. It had taken a long time to adjust to his reflection, and he had become accustomed to expecting negative reactions from those he met – especially the opposite sex – but it certainly didn’t help matters when people were so cruel.

  His life had taken an abrupt turn extremely quickly. His new life was in such contrast to the one he had led before the accident. Never had he been without feminine companionship, and now, his fiancée had left him and past mistresses would not return his correspondence. In a moment of weakness he had visited a brothel, and though the women smiled at him and batted their eyelashes, he could see their relief when he picked another. His paid companion had been amiable enough, but the experience had been less than gratifying and he had refrained from visiting another brothel since.

  But, like any man, he wanted a wife and children. He had sowed his wild oats, and after long years at sea serving his country, he wanted to settle down and make a life for a family, preferably at Oak Hill, his country estate in Essex. Right next door to what was now Jack’s estate.

  Memories flooded him of his younger years when he’d stayed with his grandparents at Oak Hill. How excited he’d been when Jack and his baby sister had come to live with their aunt and uncle. From the time Addy had started to walk she’d been precocious, but always a happy child who looked upon her brother with open adoration.

  Roan cleared his throat. “So will you give your consent if he asks for Addy’s hand?”

  “I believe so. I mean, he is from a good family, and only very recently came upon the title from a departed uncle who had no children of his own.”

  “What do you know of him . . . aside from his peerage?”

  “Well, he attended Oxford, and then spent the next four years touring Europe. He has an excellent reputation, and is not known to gamble or drink to excess. In all, I feel he is a good match for my sister.”

  A newly titled lord who was young, rich, handsome, and with a sterling reputation –
who could possibly compete with that? Especially a wounded war captain whose better days were far behind him.

  The last strains of the waltz floated towards the high ceiling, and Seeton rested his hand on the small of Addy’s back. She looked up at her beau with flushed cheeks and a radiant smile, and Roan grit his teeth, trying hard to understand his tumultuous emotions.

  “How about a brandy, old boy?”

  “Of course.” He had never been a big drinker, but he felt inclined to imbibe now.

  He followed Jack towards the door and was annoyed as he tracked Addy’s progress across the room. She was the consummate hostess: laughing, chatting, and Seeton beamed with pride.

  The younger man finally detached himself from her and made his way across the room. Addy’s gaze fastened on Roan. She flashed that angelic smile, exposing deep dimples he had long forgotten about.

  Scandalous thoughts raced through his mind as his gaze shifted to the sapphire necklace that curved to a point above the soft swell of her breasts. An image of what she might look like naked came to him, and he shook his head, horrified at where his thoughts had wandered.

  Addy was his best friend’s little sister.

  He should burn in hell.

  He was enshrouded in the scent of jasmine as she came to a stop before him, her smile as bright as her eyes. “Dance with me, Roan,” she said, her hand reaching out to him. She had reached for his right hand – his wounded hand – and he nearly jerked away.

  His hesitation must have been obvious, but she pressed her full lips together. “I am so sorry. Did I hurt—”

  “No,” he said abruptly. “You did not hurt me, Addy.”

  How could he tell her he had not been touched in so long, that it felt odd to feel a woman’s hand on him, especially the wounded part of him?

  He could see the familiar hurt in her eyes, and he extended his good arm to her. “I would be delighted to dance with you.”

  Her disappointment dissipated as she slid her hand around his elbow, holding tight, her breast brushing against his biceps. He swallowed hard and tried to keep his thoughts as holy as possible.

  The dance was a waltz, and she smiled as he pulled her into his embrace. Her gaze was steady as she observed him. He watched her closely, looking for the disgust to show in her eyes. But it never came.

  “You look happy,” he said.

  “I am happy.”

  “Lord Seeton is a good match for you.” He managed to say the words without sounding like a complete liar.

  “We are not engaged,” she said, irritation lacing her voice. “I wish that everyone would not speak to us as though we were.”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “I know you didn’t,” she said. Was it his imagination or had she stepped even closer?

  “I only just returned from school three months ago and already my brother is anxious to be rid of me.”

  Her words gave him hope. “You do not wish to marry?”

  “Of course I do . . . one day. But I am still young. I have plenty of time to worry about marriage. I want to have fun, enjoy what little freedom I do have.”

  Her words pleased him more than they should have.

  “Perhaps while you’re staying with us, you could speak to Jack. Convince him that it is wise for me to wait to marry. Will you do that for me, Roan?”

  “But what if Lord Seeton grows tired of waiting?”

  Her green eyes stared deep into his, and he felt a lump form in his throat. His gaze slid to her tiny, tipped-up nose, to the full lips that were slightly open. Her tongue slipped out, sweeping across her lower lip and he swallowed a groan. “Stephan is extremely patient.”

  He didn’t like the sound of that, and he wondered exactly what kind of “patience” she was referring to. He remembered being a man in his early twenties. He hadn’t been too keen on patience.

  “I like your hair,” she said, completely changing the subject.

  “Thank you.” He hadn’t cut it since his accident, using it as a shield to hide as much of his face as he could.

  “You remind me of a pirate.”

  His lips quirked and he couldn’t help but laugh at the whimsical smile she flashed. She’d always had an incredible imagination.

  Her hand moved slightly and she touched a lock of his hair. “I wish I didn’t have gloves on,” she whispered.

  His breath caught in his throat.

  Did she not realize what she was doing to him? How her words affected him on every possible level? Her touch was like water to a thirsty man. It was all he could do not to turn his face towards that hand, to kiss her palm.

  Her smile slowly faded as her eyes searched his. She lifted her face to his, her lips coming extremely close, and the music ended.

  She blinked up at him, and then abruptly stepped away, but he had seen the look in her eyes, and recognized it for what it was . . . desire.

  Two

  Staying with Jack and his sister had been a horrible idea. And now that Addy’s beau had made an appearance, it was all Roan could do not to pack up his things and leave.

  And yet every time he made a move to do so, he could not help but think of Addy’s expression upon seeing him. The warmth in that smile and those beautiful green eyes. Eyes that, at the moment, were focused on Stephan as they played cards. The younger man set his winning hand over her hand, and her beautiful grin diminished.

  Idiot. Didn’t he know he should always let the young woman win?

  Apparently not, as he scooped up the handful of sweets – his “winnings” – and set them to the right of his brandy. The eighth brandy since dinner, not that Roan was counting.

  What had Jack said just last night – that the boy had a stellar reputation? Not that Jack would know. He had been paying very little attention to the two all evening. If this was how he usually played chaperone, then chances were Stephan and Addy would be headed down the aisle sooner rather than later.

  Seeton belched under his breath, and Roan grimaced. He had little tolerance for people who drank in excess. Having lived with a father who couldn’t hold his liquor, he knew the ugly sides of inebriation. She deserved better.

  “Lord Drayton, will you join us?” Addy asked in a sweet voice.

  Jack, who was deeply engrossed in his book, glanced up at Roan, the sides of his mouth lifting slightly.

  “Come, Roan,” Addy urged. “We are only playing for sweets.”

  She did have a point. “Very well, if you insist.”

  Seeton sat up straighter and shuffled the cards while Roan made his way to the small table. He sat to Addy’s right, which meant his bad side was facing Stephan, who looked exceedingly uncomfortable as he slid the cards to Addy.

  Looking pleased that he’d joined them, she shuffled the cards one final time and began dealing them each a hand. Seeton finished off his brandy and motioned for a footman to refill the glass. Addy, looking serious all of a sudden, set the remaining cards in the middle of the table.

  Lord Seeton lifted his brandy to his lips and took a long drink. When he set it down, he glanced at Roan. “Lord Drayton, I have heard you lost your ship in battle. What a shame.”

  “Yes, it was a shame.”

  “Taken by surprise?”

  “Actually, I was taken in by a traitor, a man I respected.” Little had Roan realized that the man, his first in command, was reporting back to the French. The frigate came out of nowhere, a thief in the night, taking him and his men by surprise.

  Roan had looked into the eyes of his first in command before he’d slid his blade deep inside his black heart. Seconds later, he’d felt the cannon blast when an overzealous lieutenant had mistaken a wave of his arm for a signal to fire.

  “Must have been quite a blow,” Stephan murmured, adjusting the cards in his hand.

  “Stephan,” Addy said, looking aghast.

  Seeton did his best to appear confused as to why she would be angry with him, but failed miserably. “I did not mean to offend you, Drayton. I me
rely meant that it had to be a horrific thing to live through. Is that how you were injured?”

  Beneath the table Addy reached for Roan’s hand, squeezing it in silent support. It was the slightest of touches, ending as quickly as it started, but a gesture that touched him to the core. He cleared his throat. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I was injured in that blast. I am lucky to have survived the attack on my ship. Many of my men were not as fortunate.”

  Seeton nodded as though he was interested, but Roan knew better.

  The first game went relatively fast, with Addy winning. Stephan’s growing irritation was extremely obvious, and determination etched his brow as he lifted his cards for the next round.

  Though Addy had slid her hand away from Roan’s, her stockinged toes brushed over his boot. He sucked in a breath. First she touched his hand and now his foot. Did she seek to comfort him, or was there another reason behind the gesture?

  Stephan set his cards down triumphantly, his eyes bright, his smile wide. His cheeks were flushed, and Roan wondered if the alcohol wasn’t to blame. That, or the excitement of competition. Either way, it was a sad display.

  Roan set his cards over Stephan’s and the smile faded from the other man’s lips.

  Releasing a heavy sigh, Seeton pushed the winnings towards Roan and finished off his brandy. Roan handed the sweets to Addy, who positively beamed with delight.

  Stephan pulled a kerchief from his waistcoat pocket and mopped at the perspiration at his brow. “It’s bloody hot in here. Adelaide, perhaps you would like to join me for a stroll about the gardens?”

  “Not alone,” Jack said from his position near the door, and Roan smiled inwardly, glad to see that his friend wasn’t completely lax in his chaperoning duties.

  “Do not pull yourself away from your novel,” Addy said with a smile, already standing. “Roan will accompany us.”

  Roan buttoned his jacket and followed the young couple out the door. “We shall return shortly.”

  Jack nodded, looking relieved he did not have to leave the comfort of his chair and his novel.

  It was an amazing night, the moon full and bright, stars as far as the eye could see . . . and yet it paled in comparison to Addy. In the span of a few days he had come to realize that his feelings for his best friend’s sister had changed from doting big brother to something altogether different. Any man would be fortunate to have such a bride, and Roan felt himself disliking Seeton for the sole reason that he was well on his way to having what he himself would never have.