by Amelia Grey
“She’s quite a pusher once her mind is made up. I had to be firm on the matter.”
Mirabella lay her head back against the seat and laughed gently, though she didn’t take her eyes off him. And Camden couldn’t stop watching her. He liked the way her lips parted slightly when she smiled. He especially liked the way he felt contented with her.
“That was delightful, my lord. Did I play the part of the jealous fiancée convincingly?”
Camden’s breath halted in his throat. “Very well.” Too well. He was eating up her comments like a street urchin with a handful of sweet bread.
What was he thinking, falling victim to her charms? Of course she was teasing him, flirting about her possessiveness. How could he have forgotten they were only acting a part?
“Your popularity this evening made it easy. Surely, Lord Stonehurst, you will not want for a proper match when our liaison is finished.”
She spoke softly, seductively and truthfully, he realized. Was she as strong and capable as she always appeared, or was there a vulnerable spot inside her that he had seen hints of but hadn’t yet discovered?
“Nor will you. Which I believe is part of our plan.”
“Yes, our plan.”
Mirabella didn’t want their repartee to end but knew it must. She had been captivated by Camden all evening. This teasing and flirting side of him was very attractive.
At the back of her mind, she had been waiting all night for the right time to question Camden about his brother. She would rather continue with their playful witticisms, but knew they would be arriving at her door soon. Duty called her to change the course of the conversation.
“Tell me, Camden, your brother, Lord Hudson, is he about six or eight years younger than you?”
“Eight.”
“That’s quite an age difference.”
He shrugged. “There were other babies between the two of us, but none that lived. Why do you ask?”
For the first time since they climbed into the carriage, she didn’t look him in the eye. She didn’t want him to see the importance of his answers to these questions. “I want to know more about your family. Was he a hellion in his early years, getting in fights or trouble at school?”
“My brother? Certainly not, just the opposite.”
She appreciated the fervor with which he defended Hudson. “A lover, then?”
“A lover?” Camden leaned forward. The frown returned to his brow, but this time it wasn’t in jest. “What kind of question is that for you to ask? Does my brother interest you so?”
“Not overly much,” she hedged. “He’s quite handsome, as you are. I wondered if he was considered a man of pleasure like poets enjoy writing about.”
“Poets? Your imagination works overtime, Mirabella. Hudson is handsome. I’m sure he has attracted a few ladies in his time. Though this isn’t a subject I intend to discuss with you.”
“How about accidents? Was he ever burned or cut badly when he was younger? Does he have any scars on his body?”
“What the devil? Blast it, Mirabella. What kind of questions are these to be asking about my brother? Just how are these kinds of questions going to help you know me or him any better?”
“It seems perfectly logical to me. Considering if he was a bully or accident prone would help me to know about his character.”
“He wasn’t either of those. And his character is in fine order, thank you very much. He’s a personable chap who at this very moment insists he is in love with Miss Paulette Pemberton.”
“I know of her. She’s very beautiful. Does he plan to offer for her hand?”
“Yes, I’m afraid he does. But not until the time is right.”
“So he has no unusual scars or birthmarks or scarring on his neck?”
“How the devil should I know? And don’t ask me any more personal questions about him, Mirabella, this is farther beyond the pale than I want to go. What Hudson has or has not on his body is no concern of yours.”
She knew she had said enough and had found out nothing from Camden. Surely if Sarah had danced with Hudson, Mirabella’s fiancé’s brother, she would have mentioned it. Perhaps she was taking her suspect list too far.
“You are right, of course.”
“I suggest you don’t turn your designs toward him.”
Mirabella stiffened. “As if I would. I have no such intentions.”
Camden quickly reached over and brushed her skirts aside and moved onto the seat beside her. He took hold of her upper arms and turned her to face him. He forced her to look into his eyes and said, “You provoke me, Mirabella.”
She was intensely aware of how close his face was to hers. She moistened her lips and said, “No.”
“Yes. You have gone from a tempting seductress who had me eating out of her hand to a maid asking indecorous questions about Hudson. Do not attempt to make me jealous using my own brother.”
She gasped. “You misunderstand me again. It wasn’t my intention to make you jealous.”
“How can you say that when you must have known that this entire evening I’ve wanted to do this?”
His arms snaked around to her back, cupping her, pulling her up to his chest. His hand held the back of her head as his lips captured hers. Teasing warmth tingled across her breasts and settled low in her abdomen. She yielded to his kiss. She leaned into his embrace and savored every taste, every breath.
The kiss was hungry and powerful. His lips moved back and forth over hers with such intensity it took her breath away. Instead of pushing him away, her hands slipped around his neck. One hand played in the back of his hair while the other ran up and down his strong back, discovering the width of his shoulders, the firmness of his muscles beneath the expensive feel of his evening coat.
Mirabella melted against him. She wanted the exquisite kiss to go slowly. She loved the feel of his lips melting against his. She had never before felt this burning intensity inside her body. It was as if she wanted Camden to consume her.
With the tip of his tongue, he urged her lips apart, and she willingly opened her mouth to him. He sank his tongue deep inside. Mirabella moaned from pleasure that erupted from her breasts to the womanly spot between her legs. She arched her back to get closer to him. Sensations she welcomed surrounded her and speared her with unbelievable craving to allow this man all the freedoms he wanted.
She tried to call his name, but her words were caught by his breath. His hand slid around her rib cage and covered her breast. With firm pressure, he caressed her and the delectation was so sweet Mirabella felt she was going to faint. She was limp with craving—for what she didn’t know. She only knew she didn’t want him to stop kissing or touching her.
Their kiss deepened, hardened for a moment longer before he placed his hands on either side of her face and dragged his lips from hers. He dropped his forehead against hers. Mirabella felt him tremble. She heard his short, shallow breaths even as she tried to calm her own breathing.
“Oh, God, Mirabella,” he whispered as his thumbs drew lazy circles on her cheeks. His fingers caressed that soft skin behind her ears, sending chills of desire coursing through her, tempting her to lift her lips once again to his and beg him to kiss her over and over again.
With his head resting against hers, he said, “Tell me you didn’t respond to those other men this way. Tell me you did not drive them crazy with need.”
Her heart stalled in her chest at the pain she heard in his voice. “I swear, Camden.” She moved her head so that she could look into his eyes as she said, “I swear they were only chaste kisses. I felt none of the overpowering sensations I have enjoyed in your arms with your touch and your kisses. You leave me wanting more. No one else has ever left me with that feeling before.”
He matched the depth with which she looked into his eyes. “Then why?”
She opened her mouth, thinking to tell him about Sarah. “I have been in search—” She stopped. If he knew what she was doing, he would surely forbid her to co
ntinue her search. She had only a few more men on her list, and she had to continue. She couldn’t tell him what she was doing.
“I can’t take back what I have done,” she said.
“I know.”
The carriage jerked to a stop. Camden moved to the other seat and pulled on his overcoat.
Mirabella felt bereft. “It’s too late for the reason to change the outcome, isn’t it, Lord Stonehurst?”
He slowly nodded.
He stared out the window. He looked so forlorn that it hurt down to her soul. “You must believe me when I say that I truly believed you would never be hurt by my actions.”
Camden glanced at her as the driver opened the door to the carriage. “I do believe that, Mirabella. I’ll stop by for you at half past three this afternoon. We’ll take a ride to Hyde Park and maybe have a stroll if anyone is about.”
Mirabella put on her brave face to cover the pain in her heart. “I’ll be ready.”
***
The edge of dawn lay on the sky and streamed through the bedroom window mixing with the light from a single candle that burned on the bedside table. Lily hummed, soft and melodious, as she unfastened the hooks that held Mirabella’s dress together.
Mirabella fingered the emerald and diamond necklace she had just removed from her neck. She would never forget the wondrous sensations that spiraled through her when Camden kissed her. She would never forget how his body trembled for her and how she went limp with longing for him at his touch.
She dropped the necklace into the satin-lined box with the earrings. She would have to force herself not to dwell on Camden’s parting words. They wounded her deeply, but it was best for her to forget about Camden and concentrate on what she had to do for Sarah.
Mirabella knew there wasn’t going to be a better time to approach her maid so she said, “Lily, I want you to help me with something.”
“What can I do for you, Miss Bella?”
She took a deep breath as she slipped the bodice off her shoulders. “I want you to bring me some of your clothes.”
Lily’s hands went still. She walked around to face Mirabella and pursed her twisted lips into the shape of a tight bud. “With all these beautiful clothes you have, you want some of mine? Are you going daft?”
“No, of course not.” Mirabella stepped out of her skirt and turned for Lily to unlace her corset. “I plan to go with you to the tavern where you work and help you.”
Lily walked around Mirabella and faced her again. “No, no. Not with me you won’t, Miss Bella.” She shook her head. “I’m not going to bring you any of my clothes, and you are not going to work with me in that place.”
“Now, Lily. Don’t question me on this.”
“I have to, Miss Bella. I don’t know what you’re planning, but I’m not helping you do it.”
“You must. If you don’t, I’ll simply find someone who will do this for me—even if it is someone I don’t know.”
“You wouldn’t do that.”
“If I have to, yes, I will. What I must do is that important to me. I can’t leave this undone.”
“A proper lady like you, betrothed to a fine-looking man like Lord Stonehurst, going to work as a servant in a tavern. I’d be fired for sure if your father found out.”
“He won’t.” Mirabella turned her back to Lily again. This time Lily began unlacing her. “You know you can trust me to take care of you, Lily. If I’m caught, I will make sure Papa knows that you helped me only on fear that I would dismiss you if you didn’t.”
Lily’s hand stopped again. “You wouldn’t dismiss me, would you, Miss Bella?”
“I need help.” Feeling as she did right now, Mirabella knew her voice had the right amount of certainty to it that Lily was bound to hear.
“You know my mama needs the money I make.”
Mirabella felt dreadful treating Lily this way, and she was glad her back was to her maid. Even though her voice held conviction, she wasn’t sure her eyes did. “I do, Lily. Now, can I count on you, or do I have to solicit someone else’s help?”
“I’m thinking about it.”
Relief melted through her. That meant she had won over her maid. “Good. You think about it.” Feeling sorry for how she had treated Lily, Mirabella added, “You act like you think I’ll be alone. I won’t. I’ll have you with me. And I have no doubt that you can take care of me. I trust you.”
Lily continued to pull on the strings. “What if someone you know recognizes you?”
“With your clothes and my hair covered, I don’t believe anyone will. If you think it’s necessary, I’ll put a little dirt on my face. Besides, all I want to do is take a peek at the gentlemen inside the gaming rooms.”
“You can look at the gentlemen at parties.”
“Not without their collars and neckcloths on.”
“Their collars? Why are you so interested in men’s necks?”
Mirabella sighed. “You don’t need to know that.”
“It just doesn’t sound natural to me, Miss Bella.”
She slipped out of her corset and lifted her chemise over her head, tossing it on the daybed with the rest of her clothing. Lily handed her a freshly laundered night rail. She pulled it on over her head and let the fine muslin fall to the floor.
“It doesn’t have to. Now, are you going to help me?”
“I don’t like this, but I don’t have a choice. The Deity only knows who you will get to help you if I don’t. I guess your papa would be angrier with me if I let you do something like this on your own than if I didn’t help you.”
“Don’t fret, Lily. I know what I’m doing.” And why. “Now you go back to bed. I can finish from here by myself.”
Mirabella blew out the candle Lily had lit, and shadowed moonlight filtered into the room. She crawled into her bed and lay on her back, staring at the ceiling. She lifted her fingers to her lips and kissed them, but there was no way she could make the pads of her fingers feel like Camden’s urgent kisses. She would have to close her eyes and remember each touch.
She had ached inside for him to forgive her and to say the past didn’t matter, that they would only look to the future—but that wasn’t going to happen. So she had to go on only playing a part.
She thought back to what she had heard about his first engagement. Rumor had it that Camden had called out the young gentleman who had been caught kissing his fiancée, but that the man proved himself a coward. He fled to France and his parents never mentioned his name in public again. Only a few days later, Camden’s father had made the arrangement with her father, and Camden had left for America. His fiancée had married an older gentleman who already had several children, and they moved up north.
Knowing his past, it was no wonder Camden couldn’t find it in his heart to forgive her.
Eleven
Will Miss Whittingham Ever Be A Bride?
Reports are in from Lord Stonehurst and Miss Whittingham’s first ball together since his return. It appears all is not well with the engaged couple. It was reported that the viscount spent much of the evening in the company of three beautiful debutantes. Hmm. Could it be because there have been hints that Miss Whittingham wasn’t as patient as we thought? We are looking for answers as I write this. Do tell if you have any information on the viscount and the Miss.
—Lord Truefitt, Society’s Daily Column
“Papa!” Mirabella exclaimed. She picked up the hem of her carriage dress and rushed over to the chair in the drawing room where her father was seated. She threw her arms around him and hugged him, kissed his cheek, then hugged him again for good measure.
“Heavens to madness, girl, you’re going to suffocate me with all this blustering. Be done with it.”
“But, Papa, I haven’t seen you downstairs in weeks. Months. This is so very wonderful!”
“Well, there’s no cause to be frolicsome, young lady. You’re acting like I’ve been on my deathbed, not just ailing.”
“I’ve been praying for the d
ay I would come downstairs and see you in your favorite chair again.”
“Be sensible. I didn’t want to meet the viscount for the first time in years up in my bedroom. That would have been dreadful, don’t you know. I wanted him to see me dressed and looking as fit as possible.”
She smiled at him with all the love she felt. Her father must truly be getting better after almost two years of pain and debilitating weakness. She was so grateful, and she believed she owed her father’s remarkable recovery to Lord Stonehurst. Camden’s return might have caused her much distress, but his sudden appearance had rejuvenated her father and given him a new life. She didn’t know how she could repay Camden.
“You look much more than fit this afternoon. You are perfectly handsome in your new brocade waistcoat and silk neckcloth. And you look simply dashing in that cutaway jacket with double buttons.”
“Stop that poppycock talk. I haven’t been handsome, dashing, or splendid for the past two years.”
“Nonsense. You would have all the lovely widows chasing after you again if you were only able to attend the parties in the evenings.” Mirabella fluffed his cravat.
“Don’t fuss.” He brushed her hand away.
She knelt at his feet and clasped one of his hands in hers. She looked up at him. Not a gray hair was out of place, and his beard had just the right amount of grooming wax.
“Why not? It’s what daughters do,” she said, feeling quite pleased with herself for reminding him of one of his favorite phrases.
“Because I don’t want it. That’s why. And until you marry, you have to do as I say,” he grumbled, though fondness shone in his eyes.
“You cannot burst my bubble of happiness. You know how delighted it makes me to see you down here, Papa. For the first time in so long, I’m really beginning to feel that you are getting better.”
He pointed a straight, but trembling, finger at her. “Do not pin your hopes on that, Daughter.”
“I have to, Papa. I want it to be so.”
He looked down at her and caressed her cheek with the back of his hand, then cupped her chin, tilting her head back a little farther. “I know that Lord Stonehurst will have heard that I’ve not been well. But I don’t want him to know exactly how ill I’ve been. Let’s keep that between us, shall we.”