by Lydia Dare
“I’d prefer to hear it from the lady’s lips,” Honeywell clipped out. He regarded Livi with one raised brow and held out his open palm to her. She reached tentatively to take it. He had come to her, after all. And he had no ulterior motives, not that she knew of in any event.
“Honeysmell, if you want to keep that hand, I’d suggest you put it in your pocket,” Gray growled.
Livi didn’t miss the smear of the poor earl’s name. In fact, he did smell a bit wretched now that Gray mentioned it. Unfortunately, not a bit like honey at all. She swiped at her nose. “I believe Mr. Hadley is correct,” Livi said to break the heavy silence. “I nearly forgot. May I save a quadrille for you, my lord?”
The man gave one simple nod and glared at Gray, who glared back, a low growl emanating from his throat.
“You make me want to pop you on your nose,” Livi scolded as he took her hand and pulled it to rest in the crook of his arm. He led her around the edge of the room. “Where are we going?” she asked, as they skirted some potted palms and walked toward an open doorway.
“You need some air,” Gray informed her.
She attempted to jerk her arm back from him. “I most certainly do not.”
But he covered her hand with his and kept walking. “Do you want to cause a scene or do you want to come with me nicely?” he growled. “We can do it either way you like.”
Another scene was certainly not what she needed in that moment. She feigned a smile and said between her gritted teeth, “You will pay dearly for this, Grayson Hadley.” To all the world, she probably looked like she was flashing him a brilliant smile rather than threatening his life. The latter was much more accurate, however.
“Would you care for some punch?” Gray asked.
Certainly, he didn’t intend to get her punch. After last night, that was the most absurd thing she’d ever heard. She’d be wearing it within moments. “I believe I’ll pass. My dress is better green than red, I think. And it took forever to wash off that sticky punch.” But that thought only served to make her remember his visit to her room when she was still in the bath. Heat crept up her cheeks.
“That’s what I want to talk to you about,” Gray said as he walked with her through the double doors and into the garden. They weren’t the only ones in the garden, however. Other couples lingered in pairs, their heads pressed tightly together.
Livi took a step away from him, as she had no desire to make it appear as though they were intimates. But Gray didn’t seem to notice. He kept walking, leading her farther down the garden path.
“Sophie will wonder where I’ve gone,” Livi reminded him.
“She’ll know where you’ve gone. What she’ll wonder is how to decrease the damage it will do to your reputation.” With that, Gray grabbed her fingertips in his strong grip and tugged her into an alcove in the garden. It was dark, with shadows dancing through the tall shrubbery. A moon, three quarters full, gleamed from between the branches.
“You plan to do more damage than you already have?” Livi couldn’t believe the gall of him. She stomped her slipper-clad foot.
“The fault of last night’s calamity rests solely at my feet. I was in a bit of a state when I arrived at the musicale…” He let the last trail off, simply shaking his head at himself.
“You were foxed.” That was all she said, just you were foxed.
“Quite,” he clipped out. “Then I tripped over that damn cane. And all was lost. Will you accept my apology?” He gave her a battered puppy expression. It had never worked on her with her brothers, and it would not work for him.
“If you offered an apology, I might find it in my heart to accept it.”
He sighed heavily, blowing like the bellows the maids used to stoke the fire in the hearth of her bedchamber. “I just did,” he said, quirking his brows at her.
“This is how an apology should go, Grayson.” She shook a finger at him and hushed him when he began to sputter. “Repeat after me. ‘I, Grayson Hadley…’” She stopped and waited for him.
“I, Grayson Hadley.” He stopped and waited too, an amused look on his face.
“‘Do solemnly swear that I am the biggest idiot that ever walked the face of the earth,’” Livi continued. She tried not to smile as she said it.
“I’m not saying that,” he groused.
But she continued, “‘And since Miss Mayeux is gracious enough to forgive my drunkenness that could have ruined her place in society and any chance for a decent marriage…’” She stopped and waited again.
“You don’t want to marry,” he tossed in with a snort.
“You, sir, are positively wretched at apologies.” She rolled her eyes at him.
“Did I really ruin your chances?” he asked softly. A slow grin tipped the corners of his lips, and Livi felt it in her belly when it flipped. Oh, goodness. What was that?
She tipped her nose in the air in the same way she’d seen Sophie do it. “You may have.”
“Well, in that case,” he said, then one hand shot out and caught her arm. He tugged her to him in one swift move. She fell hard against the wall of man that he was and braced herself with her hands against his chest.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“If your chances are already ruined, I’ll have no choice but to marry you. And if I have to do that, I want to take full advantage of my position.” He dropped his head toward hers. Livi was so startled that she didn’t even try to move away from him. His lips touched hers, soft and harsh at the very same time. She’d been kissed before but never with such intent. His lips slid silky and smooth against hers as he caught her gasp in his mouth.
A little noise escaped her throat as his hands skimmed her waist and slid down over her bottom. Gray’s tongue slid to tangle with hers in the most subtle of invasions, and Livi’s knees buckled slightly. But his hand on her arse kept her tight against him. Tight against all of him. And she could feel every inch of him against her belly.
Finally, Gray raised his head and let her breathe, which was kind of him, considering the fact that she was about to swoon. Her heart pounded so loudly in her chest that she could outdo the clip of a team of runaway horses. She drew in a deep breath and his mouth skittered across her jaw, leaving a silky trail in his wake. He kissed the area beneath her ear and let his lips trail down the side of her neck.
He stopped at that spot where her neck met her shoulder and nipped it lightly with his teeth. “I want to make you mine.” His voice rumbled right by her ear, making her quiver with… something. His tongue snaked out and licked across the spot he’d just abraded with his tongue. “Right here. Forever.”
Just then, Grayson sprang several steps away from her. Livi realized a moment later that heavy footsteps crunched down the gravel path toward them. Thank heavens he had excellent hearing. Sophie and Radbourne rounded the corner and stepped closer to them. Sophie’s hand was threaded through the crook of Radbourne’s arm in a most intimate manner. And Grayson focused his gaze on their joining. “Did I miss the announcement that the two of you have decided to call a truce?” he asked.
Sophie stepped away from the viscount in one quick motion, her look scathing. “Hardly.”
“And for a moment there, I thought you liked me,” Archer said to Sophie with a wolfish grin.
Sophie absently picked at a thread on her sleeve. “One must keep up appearances. Even when one detests the other party.”
“‘Detests’ is such a strong word.”
“Yet not quite adequate,” she sniped back. Then Sophie said loudly, “It is a bit stuffy in there. I’m so glad the four of us decided to take a walk in the garden.”
“So am I,” Radbourne agreed. “But I’m getting a bit chilled, and Miss Mayeux must be cold because her cheeks look all rosy.” He shot Grayson a telling glance, and Livi wanted to hide her head in shame. “Perhaps we should find our way back to the Assembly Room.”
“Of course,” Sophie agreed and she motioned Livi forward. The two of them walked to
gether, arm in arm, and the brothers walked just behind them. But all the while, Livi’s mind was a muddled mess as she couldn’t get Gray’s kiss out of her thoughts. Bon Dieu! The way he felt pressed against her, the way his masculine sandalwood scent enveloped her senses, the way his dark eyes seemed to penetrate her defenses and see who she truly was. She’d never felt that way in her life. What would have happened if Sophie and Lord Radbourne hadn’t stumbled upon them?
Just as Livi pondered that thought, she heard Grayson yelp quickly, and a short scuffle ensued behind him and Lord Radbourne. She didn’t think she could watch the scene, so she continued forward as though two grown Lycan men weren’t pummeling each other in the garden. As soon as she entered the Assembly Room with Sophie, both of them were immediately swept away at the same time. Siddington collected Sophie. And the Earl of Honeywell led Livi onto the floor. It wasn’t until he raised his arms during the quadrille that Livi remembered the nickname Gray had bestowed upon the earl. Honeysmell, indeed.
But all she could truly think about was Gray, who still hadn’t returned to the ballroom.
***
“You are a bloody idiot!” Archer hissed, shoving Gray’s chest.
Gray stumbled backward over a bench, and his head landed among the sculpted branches of a potted topiary. He rose back to his feet and brushed the dirt from his clothes, but it was no matter. His attire was ruined for the evening. He could never walk back into the Assembly Room with dark smears across his cravat. But since he was already filthy…
Gray lunged at Archer, knocking his brother against the stone facade of the building. “Go to the devil!” he snarled.
Archer bounded off the building, amber fire darting from his eyes. “Have you lost your mind?” he demanded, grabbing Gray’s jacket in his clutches. “Are you trying to ruin her? Did you not do a good enough job of that last night?”
“We were talking, Arch!” Gray growled. “No need for you to don a suit of armor to defend the lady’s honor.”
“Talking?” Archer scoffed. “And I’m Maria Fitzherbert.” Then he shoved his brother once more, but this time Gray sidestepped the bench and remained on his feet, and Archer stumbled forward.
Gray couldn’t help but laugh. “Indeed? And does the King know you’re masquerading around Bath, pretending to be my jackass brother, Mrs. Fitzherbert?”
Archer righted himself and narrowed his eyes on Gray. “Don’t be an imbecile. You weren’t talking and we both know it.” He swiped at his nose with one finger. “I have the same senses you do, don’t forget, brother mine.”
Gray shoved his brother’s shoulder. “And just what is that supposed to mean?”
“It means I can hear things. I can smell things…”
“Indeed?” Gray shook his head, more irritated than he could remember feeling in a very long time. “I’m surprised you could hear or smell anything with Sophia Cole hanging on your arm.”
Archer took a step backward, his mouth falling open in surprise. “We went in search of you, you dolt.”
Perhaps, but goading his brother suddenly made Gray feel so much better. “You seemed more chummy than that,” he taunted. “‘Besotted,’ I think, is the word I’m looking for.”
His brother’s face turned an enraged red. “That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Is it? Perhaps the gentleman doth protest too—”
Archer lunged for Gray, and both of them tumbled to the ground, pounding each other without restraint. One of Archer’s fists crashed into Gray’s nose and blood trickled down his face. They rolled a few feet across the garden path, knocking over topiaries and growling at each other like a pair of dogs fighting for dominance.
Gray was so intent on pummeling the life out of Archer that he barely heard a feminine scream or the sounds of several people gasping. He forgot completely where they even were until a large hand yanked him off the ground and he found himself staring into Dash’s furious amber eyes.
“Enough,” the alpha growled. He may as well have yelled “Heel!”
Gray felt like whimpering, but he lowered his head in shame instead. “I’m—” he began.
“Don’t say one word,” Dash ordered.
Archer rose to his feet, brushing dirt and leaves from his trousers and jacket. He glared at Gray but took a step backward when Dash turned his attention on Archer instead.
It was then that Gray realized half of the Assembly Room had poured out into the garden. How long had they been standing there? Cait pressed her way to the front of the group, and Gray dropped his gaze back to the ground to avoid the expression of disappointment he’d caught in her eyes.
“Well, gentlemen,” Dash said, loud enough for everyone in the assembled crowd to hear him without effort. “I think it would be in everyone’s best interest if you two went on your way.” Then he said so quietly that only Gray and Archer could possibly hear him, “Go straight to Brimsworth House and do not make me have to look for you.”
Sixteen
Livi slid to the back of the crowd as Gray and Lord Radbourne made a hasty exit from the Assembly Room. What had gotten into the two of them? There was no reason to create such a scene. She apparently had misspoken when she’d called Grayson tame.
Sophie came up beside Livi, linking their arms together. “Smile,” her friend muttered softly.
Smiling was the last thing Livi felt like doing. Crying felt more apt, for some reason.
Sophie jostled her arm. “Smile,” she repeated. “It’s the only way to distance yourself from them. Act as though you haven’t a care in the world.”
But Livi did have a care. An enormous care who had just strode through the Assembly Room without a glance back over his shoulder in her direction. Livi feigned a smile.
Sophie laughed without mirth. “You look as though you smelled something rotten. Can you not smile better than that?”
Doing so seemed an impossible task. Livi shook her head. How could she just pretend to smile when Gray and Lord Radbourne had nearly torn the garden apart with their wolfish tempers? She’d borne witness to this sort of behavior most of her life, courtesy of her brothers; but Armand and Etienne had never done such a thing with so many people present. Never in front of society in such a blatant way. Though, in all honesty, her brothers kept more than a respectful distance from society for several reasons, not the least of which were their lack of desire to mingle with New Orleans’ well-to-do and their lack of desire to capture a bride who had aspirations of joining the powerful yet disreputable Mayeux family.
Livi’s musing was interrupted when the musicians began to play once more and the crowd began filtering back inside the Assembly Room, whispering about those unruly Hadley brothers. Soon the activity inside the Assembly Room returned to what it had been before the fight in the garden had distracted everyone.
“Thank heavens,” Sophie whispered and tapped Livi’s arm with her fan. “My cousin will be of great service. Dance with him, laugh gaily, and then we’ll leave soon after.”
“Why can’t we leave now?”
“Because that will solidify an attachment between you and one of those uncivilized men in the ton’s minds. And we don’t want that.”
Livi nodded as though that made sense, but it didn’t. Not completely. It wasn’t as though Gray and Lord Radbourne had been fighting over her. But why were they fighting? What had happened to make them behave so horribly?
Sophie gestured Mr. Siddington toward them with a flick of her fan and the nod of her head. A moment later, the gentleman bowed slightly before them. “You needed my assistance, cousin?”
“Henry,” Sophie pleaded under her breath, “will you stand up with Miss Mayeux for this minuet?”
He smiled warmly. “It will be my honor.” Then he offered his arm to Livi and led her to where other couples were lining up for the set. “Quite a dust-up outside, wouldn’t you agree?” the gentleman asked.
Oh, Livi agreed. She just wished she understood it. “I can’t imagi
ne what provoked that exchange.”
Siddington snorted. “Nothing. Everything. The Hadleys never need an excuse for causing a scene.” He took her hand, raised it in the air, and began to lead her in a circle. “It’s a wonder they’re even allowed entry into these sorts of affairs. My poor cousin has been reduced to nothing more than a servant in their house. It’s a disgrace.”
At the moment, Livi agreed with his assessment. “Why is she a servant? Why hasn’t her family taken her in?” Livi asked, though she probably should have held her tongue.
“She’s prideful,” Mr. Siddington replied. “My mother offered her shelter, but Sophie refuses to accept her charity.” He shook his head in confusion. “But charity must be better than living with those beasts.”
Livi simply nodded, for lack of anything to say. They were beasts, after all.
“And then there’s Postwick, but I understand her not wanting to accept help from him.”
Who the devil was Postwick? “I’m not familiar with the name.”
Siddington’s eyes widened a bit in surprise. “Indeed?” Then he leaned in conspiratorially. “The Earl of Postwick is a cousin of ours. He was Sophie’s father’s heir.”
“Oh.”
“Oh, indeed.” He turned her again, and Livi wished she knew what Mr. Siddington meant by that cryptic comment.
***
“I distinctly said, ‘Do not cause another scandal,’” Dash roared as he stalked across his study.
Archer slid forward in his seat across from Dash’s desk. “I was trying—” he began, but he stopped speaking when Dash sent him a withering glance.
“You’re just as bad,” their oldest brother complained. “I don’t want to hear another word out of you! Not one single word!”
His voice cracked like a whip struck across Gray’s back, and he bristled with the force of it. Dash in a temper made Gray want to tuck his tail and run. And they’d finally provoked him to the point where there was no return from it. Dash typically held his temper until he could explode with it, and now Gray feared it was time to watch the fireworks.