Courting A Sinful Stranger: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Emily Honeyfield

  He drained his second port, trying to shake it off. It was no good. She was still there, lingering in the air around him, like the cigar smoke in this room.

  “It is harmless,” he said to the captain, suppressing the guilt. “She is enjoying the game as much as I am. She still does not know who I am, and she does not ask me to reveal my true identity. The lady is as aware that this is just a spot of fun as much as I am.”

  “Is she?” The captain eyed him balefully. “She is young, Nordarken. Barely out of her teens, and likely as innocent as the snow. How do you know what she is truly thinking and feeling?”

  Arthur shifted uneasily in his upholstered chair. He ran a hand through his hair. “You are making me feel like a cad, my friend.”

  “Do not act like one, then,” shot back the captain. “You may say that the young lady is as aware of the rules of this game as you are and does not take it seriously, but if she is as innocent and virtuous as we suspect, then she is severely out of her depth.” He paused. “How do you not know that she wishes you to eventually put a ring on her finger?”

  “I do not know for sure, of course,” said Arthur, feeling a bit tawdry. “All I know is that I cannot stay away from her. It is as if she is a fever infecting my blood…”

  “You sound lovesick, my friend,” said the captain knowingly, sipping his port. “A most dangerous and sometimes fatal illness. I would watch my step, if I were you.”

  Arthur sighed distractedly, placing his empty glass on the table. The servant with the crystal decanter filled with the potent ruby liquid was back at his side in an instant, but he irritably waved him away. He didn’t want his mind fogged with too much strong liquor.

  Was he lovesick, as his friend suggested?

  He sighed again, pondering it. It wasn’t as if he had never been infatuated to distraction with other ladies in his life. When he was only three and twenty, he had fallen hard for an older society beauty who had taught him a thing or two. Lady Arabella Astley had been five and thirty and the epitome of sophistication, with flowing auburn hair and the longest legs he had ever seen on a woman. He had been well and truly smitten. But the lady had sent him on his way soon enough, and he had got over it.

  Then there had been the golden-haired goddess Miss Madeline King, who was not quite a lady, even if she looked and acted very much like the real thing. He had met her at the opera one evening and been swept away in amour. Miss King had not made any secret of the fact that she was not the exclusive kind, however. He had pined after her like a dog for a while until he had discovered her in the arms of another lover and angrily stormed off, vowing to never darken her doorstep again. And he never had.

  They had all been superficial wounds. He had dusted himself off and thrown himself back into society. He was having too much fun and life was just one big game, after all. He certainly did not want a wife. He had watched too many of his contemporaries turn into dull old men overnight after having tied the knot. He swore it would never happen to him.

  And he still didn’t want a wife. Not at all.

  He wasn’t lovesick about Lady Sarah Rubyton. He barely knew her, after all. He was merely infatuated. There was a difference.

  “How about that second game of cards, old chap,” said Arthur, staring at his friend determinedly. “Let us put the fairer sex out of our minds entirely and give me a chance to win back all that coin you have shamelessly fleeced from me.”

  ***

  An hour later, Arthur threw down the last of his hand in disgust. The captain was grinning delightedly as he collected the coins, scooping them towards him with two hands, looking very complacent.

  “Game, set and match,” said the captain, in a droll voice. “I almost feel guilty, it was so easy.”

  “No need to gloat,” said Arthur, frowning. He was off his game, there was no doubt about it. He was usually a deft hand at cards. “It is not becoming in a gentleman of class.”

  “You are a sore loser, Nordarken,” said the captain smugly. “Always have been. Remember when you almost took the umpire’s head off with a bat during that game of cricket a few seasons back?”

  “Do not remind me,” said Arthur, grimacing slightly. “But I was not run out. I still maintain that to this day.”

  They both laughed.

  “Another round?” The captain was shuffling the cards again. “You look like you still need the distraction, my friend.”

  Arthur shook his head slowly. “I shall be a pauper before this day is out if I am not careful.”

  “Still thinking about the lady?”

  He nodded. “I am. Even more so. It seems that nothing can distract me from thoughts of her.”

  The captain gazed at him curiously. “Why do you not just tell her who you truly are and be done with it? Court her openly, if you admire her so much?” He paused, “You are a viscount. She is the daughter of an earl. You are both within each other’s social radius. You could at least try.”

  Arthur hesitated. “You are the one who warned me off doing any such thing, Morgan. The old scandal between the parents, remember?” He paused. “Besides, I am not ready for a serious courtship with a proper young lady. I am quite content with my life the way that it is, thank you very much.”

  But as soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wondered at the truth of them. Was he content with listlessly drifting from society event to event in London? He had claimed only a few weeks ago that he could not live without the excitement of London, but at a distance it all seemed a little pedestrian now. Not much changed from season to season and in between. There were some different faces, to be sure, but one ball was very like another. As was every other party or soiree.

  And all those chaps who had peeled off and married, leaving the circuit behind. Were they all dull and dreary or were they just enjoying a different kind of excitement? One that he had never contemplated?

  “Very well,” said the captain, looking unconvinced, “just checking. And you are right, of course. Stirring up that old scandal would probably not be a good plan.” His face brightened. “I say, I have a genius idea to get you to forget about that young lady for a while.”

  “What?” sighed Arthur, staring at his friend. He was always a little suspicious whenever the captain got a bright idea when it came to women.

  “All shall be revealed, my friend,” he said, standing up. “Come along then. I believe it is a very fine day for a walk, now that I come to think of it. Sun shining and all that.”

  Arthur laughed. Good old Morgan. He stood up. “I am at your disposal, Sir.”

  “Follow me,” said the captain, grinning. “Tally ho.”

  They picked up their coats, hats and gloves at the door, clattering down the staircase before emerging into the day. All the very prim and proper ladies and gentlemen were still shopping, meandering from dressmaker’s to milliner’s and everything in between. He truly hoped that the captain wasn’t going to drag him into a tailor shop for a fitting to calm his restless spirit. He didn’t know if he could endure that.

  “Where are we going, Morgan?” he asked again, as they walked briskly along.

  “I truly cannot say,” said the captain, his mouth twitching. “Think of it as a game. You like those, old chap. Even if you are not particularly good at them.”

  Arthur punched his friend’s arm. The captain grimaced but did not break his stride. They turned left at the end of the street, leaving the respectable ladies and gentlemen well behind.

  Chapter 10

  Sarah leaned back into the plush red velvet of the carriage, fixing her gaze upon Mary, who was seated opposite her, and her older brother James, the Earl of Tolmere. Lord Tolmere had promised them tea and cake at a new teashop that had opened at an outlying village and Sarah had not had any excuse not to go. Not that she really wanted one – James was always good company, even if her parents had earmarked him as a potential suitor.

  She studied him covertly. She still didn’t think that they had approached him about any
such thing. She knew James well enough that he would have looked at or spoken to her differently if they had. His face was as guileless as ever as he gazed out of the carriage window. Were her dear parents bluffing her with their threat of approaching him about possible matrimony with her?

  Lord Tolmere looked younger than his three and thirty years, she thought. Always a dapper dresser, today he wore a dark crimson brocaded jacket with a crisp white shirt beneath. A cravat of light grey was tied haphazardly around his neck. James was as fair as Mary, with tufts of sandy hair sticking up from his head. He also had the same light blue eyes as his sister.

  “How did you discover this teashop that we are going to, James?” asked Mary, turning to her brother.

  James grinned, almost wickedly. “Oh, I was there with a friend just last week, sister. We were exploring the area and in need of refreshment.” He paused. “The scones are lighter than air and the ginger cake quite a marvel.”

  “A young lady?” asked Mary, gazing at him slyly.

  James laughed easily. “No, sister. A new friend whom I met at one of my clubs.” He paused. “He is quite entertaining.” A tiny sparkle entered his eyes.

  Mary looked captivated. “Shall you bring him home to dinner one night? I always like to meet your entertaining new friends, brother.”

  “If you like,” said James, smiling slightly. “Although I should warn you, Mary, he is not the marrying kind - if you have designs in that way.”

  “James!” cried Mary, lightly punching his arm. “You are terrible. I would never be so bold…”

  “I know, sister,” said James, ruefully rubbing his arm. “I am only teasing you, Mary.”

  They all laughed. James fixed his gaze upon Sarah.

  “And how have you been, Sarah?” he asked kindly. “You are all grown up now, are you not? Do you have any eligible young gentlemen in your sights?”

  Sarah felt herself relax further. She was almost sure that her parents had not spoken to him now. He would hardly be teasing her about eligible young gentlemen. Things would decidedly be more awkward between them.

  “Actually,” she said, staring at them both, “there is a young gentleman who has caught my eye.”

  Mary’s eyes widened. James looked intrigued.

  “Do tell all,” he said, his smile broadening. “But if he is a cad, you know I shall dissuade you from it, Sarah. I feel as bound to protect your honour as I do my sister’s.”

  “I hardly know whether he is a cad or not,” said Sarah slowly. “We do not really know each other that well at all.” She took a deep breath. “He is the gentleman I danced with at the Clifford ball, Mary. When we all donned masquerade masks for the final dance.”

  Mary squealed with delight. “Him? Why, he was so dashing, Sarah! Your parents were furious, but I must say, he looked positively intriguing to me…”

  “You have met him since,” said Sarah, suppressing a giggle. “Remember Mr. Simpleton, the ostrich trader, at Rosamond’s tea party?”

  Mary looked utterly confused. “I declare I did not put the two together,” she breathed. Then she gaped at Sarah. “You are enamoured with an ostrich trader?”

  Sarah burst out laughing. “That is the joke, Mary! I do not know what his real name is at all. Every time I meet him, he tells me something different…”

  “You have seen him since then, as well?” Mary breathed.

  Sarah nodded. “At Lord Grantham’s garden party. He scaled the walls to meet me in the maze.” She paused. “He ran off just before you and Arabella found me there.”

  Mary collapsed into a fit of shocked giggles. “Oh, this is scandalous indeed! You are turning into a wicked woman!” She gazed at her friend with bright eyes. “I heartily approve, dearest. You were complaining that life was too boring and that all the eligible bachelors so very dull. I think you have found the remedy, well and truly.”

  They laughed together for a moment. Sarah gazed affectionately at her friend. She should have known that Mary would see the funny side of it all. Her best friend might be propriety personified, but she had always had a good sense of humour.

  “Do you like him, Sarah?” Mary gazed at her friend steadily. “Even if you do not truly know who he is? Do you want to know?”

  Sarah sighed. She did not know quite how to answer her friend at all.

  In one way, the answer was straightforward. She liked the mysterious gentleman very much indeed. He made her feel things she had never felt before. But she did not know him. Not really. And how could she claim to like someone when she did not even know his real name, nor his position in society? For all she knew, he might not even be a true gentleman. Perhaps he had cheated his way into the Clifford ball. How would she even know?

  He might truly be a trader in exotic animals, or a thief, or a sailor. He might be anything at all.

  “I think that you should proceed with caution, Sarah,” said James, frowning a little. “While I am all for a little bit of harmless fun and frivolity, you do not know who this man actually is. And it concerns me that he will not tell you his true name. Does he have something to hide, perchance?”

  Sarah coloured. It was exactly what she had just been thinking.

  “You think him a cad?” she said, taking a deep breath.

  “I know nothing of the man at all,” he said slowly. “And that is the concern, is it not? How do we know what his intentions are? I just do not want you to get hurt, Sarah, that is all.”

  Sarah raised her chin. “I am not a fool, James. I realise that his intentions may not be honourable. I shall not let it go quite that far I do assure you.”

  But even as the words left her mouth, she didn’t know whether she was telling a falsehood or not. The man made her feel things that she had never felt before. It was all so baffling that she could hardly make head nor tail of any of it.

  Her face burnt deeper as she remembered the way that he had kissed her. As if he had wanted to devour her. She had never experienced passion before, and it scared her just a little. The feelings were so strong and powerful. How did a young lady make sure that she was not swept away by it all?

  Ever since she could remember, she had been taught that a lady’s virtue was her most important asset, which she must protect at all costs. She knew that was the reason that unmarried ladies and gentlemen were not supposed to be unchaperoned with each other. But she had no idea what actually went on between men and women when they were alone and inclined in that certain way. That was a whole shadow world which she had no knowledge of.

  She was not unusual, of course. Ladies of her station were deliberately kept ignorant about such matters so they could remain uncorrupted and pure. Mary knew as much or as little as she did. All the young unmarried ladies in her acquaintance were the same. It had never particularly bothered her before.

  It bothered her now. It bothered her very much.

  It was almost on the tip of her tongue to just ask James about it. He was like an older brother to her, wasn’t he? And he was a man, as well as a gentleman. He was sure to know about such things. But then, she stopped herself.

  James would be horrified, as would Mary. It was simply not the done thing for a young unmarried lady to be asking about the intimate things that happened between men and women. Her parents, if they heard about it, would be utterly appalled and probably disown her outright.

  “That is good to hear, Sarah,” said James, a little condescendingly. “But you are a young lady and quite ignorant of what could happen, I think. I do not want you to throw your reputation away on a rake…”

  “I would do no such thing!” cried Sarah, stung.