A Taste of Temptation

by Amelia Grey

  “How?”

  “Well, you could have been forced to marry someone like Miss Bardwell.”

  John’s words reminded Andrew of the young lady they had once considered as cold and unattractive as a fish. His name had been romantically linked to Miss Bardwell’s a couple of years ago simply because her dowry was heavy and his pockets were light.

  “I would have shot myself before I would have married her,” Andrew said with a light chuckle on his lips.

  “My point exactly. At least Olivia is beautiful, shapely, and from the short time I spoke to her after the wedding she seemed quite intelligent.”

  Much too clever for her own good, Andrew thought as his gaze drifted over to look at her for at least the fiftieth time since they arrived at the ball and parted ways. She didn’t appear the least bothered by their passionate embrace in his room. His mood was black. She was laughing and talking cheerfully with the ladies as if nothing had happened between them while he still bore the remnants of interrupted passion.

  John was right. She was exceptionally beautiful, especially when she smiled and laughed.

  “She still hasn’t smiled for me.”

  “Maybe you’ve never given her reason to.”

  Andrew’s attention jerked back to his friend. He hadn’t realized he’d spoken those last words aloud until John answered him.

  Could John’s observation be right? Andrew had seen passion, concern, and shock in her delicate features but he hadn’t seen laughter, contentment, or any happiness in her face when they had been alone. He supposed John was right. He hadn’t given her a reason to smile at him. For some reason he suddenly felt a great need to see her beautiful smile directed at him.

  “Is Truefitt’s column right?” John asked. “Did you spend your entire wedding night at the club?”

  Andrew didn’t answer. He took another drink from his almost empty glass.

  “You did, didn’t you? You left her bed and went straight to the club to spend the night drinking and gaming. I can’t believe you did that.”

  “I didn’t take her to bed,” Andrew muttered.

  John’s dark eyes rounded, and then suddenly blinked rapidly. “You didn’t—you didn’t?”

  “Right. I didn’t.” Andrew turned up his glass and emptied it. He then winced as the strong liquor burned his throat and continued into his stomach.

  John was clearly stunned, and Andrew didn’t like admitting he’d failed to consummate his marriage on his wedding night. He was surprised he’d admitted it. That wasn’t something a man would be proud of and certainly not something he’d tell just anybody, but he and John had been friends since they were fifteen.

  “It’s complicated,” Andrew felt compelled to say.

  “Complicated?” John asked as he glanced over at Olivia again. “What the devil makes it complicated?”

  Andrew knew John was seeing exactly what he saw: a beautiful and vibrant young woman whom any man in his right mind would bed if he had the chance.

  Andrew felt annoyed as hell. He had returned from Derbyshire thinking to pick up with his unencumbered life in London as the ton’s most notorious bachelor, the last of the Terrible Threesome and the one that hadn’t been caught. He hadn’t planned on getting trapped into marriage three weeks after returning home.

  “Just trust me on this, my friend.”

  “All right, I guess I understand,” John said, giving his full attention back to Andrew.

  “No, you don’t,” Andrew said tightly.

  “No, hell, I don’t. You’re right. I don’t understand not bedding your wife on your wedding night.”

  “Damnation, John, keep your voice down before someone hears you,” Andrew said, looking around the room to see if anyone was watching them. Thankfully everyone nearby seemed too interested in their own conversations to be listening to others’.

  John glanced around the room, too. He looked as exasperated as Andrew.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t expect to hear anything so outrageous. What in bloody hell is going on with you?”

  “Nothing I want to talk about. And don’t press me about this, John. It’s not something I can or want to explain.”

  “You’re damned right you can’t explain it.”

  “John, drop it.”

  His friend looked as if he was going to say more, but stopped himself and let out a troubled sigh. He stared uncomfortably at Andrew.

  Finally he said, “So tell me, what’s the latest word on Hawkins?”

  Andrew let out a scattered breath before saying, “The Runner thinks Hawkins must have left Derbyshire for a safer place. Now that I’ve had time to consider it, I think that’s probably true.”

  “Even though Derbyshire is where his family lives?”

  “Yes. The bastard probably left town the very night he shot at me and gave the magistrate the slip. Thompson thinks it was worth the time he spent there waiting to see if anyone was hiding Hawkins, but there’s been no sign of him.”

  “You know, I have an idea,” John said. “After the Season is over why don’t we take a ride over to Derbyshire and have a look for him. We talked about that possibility with Chandler, remember?”

  Yes, Andrew remembered, and his friends had quickly axed the idea when he’d mentioned it. Andrew was smart enough to know that John was just feeling sorry for him. He appreciated that, but in another way he hated it, too.

  He could handle Hawkins and Olivia by himself.

  “We’ll talk about it after the Season,” Andrew said, knowing they would never go. He wouldn’t take his friends away from their wives, not even for a short adventure to Derbyshire.

  ***

  Olivia watched her aunt talk, laugh, and gossip with Lady Lynette and Lady Colebrooke and she had to smile. Coming to London was the best thing that could have happened to Agatha. She hadn’t looked so young, so healthy, and so happy in years, but Olivia couldn’t say the same thing about herself.

  London, with its people, its parties, and its excitement, was very different from the quiet life they lived in Kent. This was obviously the life Agatha was born to live. And Olivia found herself happy that her aunt was back where she belonged. But Olivia knew she was a long way from finding her own happiness.

  She had decided not to mention to Agatha that someone or something had entered her room and that a pike had mysteriously fallen from a suit of armor. She was sure Agatha would insist it was Lord Pinkwater’s ghost trying to get a message to her. Olivia wasn’t ready to admit that it might possibly be a ghost creating mischief in Lord Dugdale’s home.

  While she had no trouble believing Ellie might be behind the pike and vase, there was no way the maid could have been the person in her bedchamber. She was much too small for the person Olivia saw. But was the man’s form Lord Pinkwater’s ghost? Olivia needed more proof. The only thing she was really sure of was that someone had entered her room.

  Under the guise of turning her head to cough, Olivia glanced across the room to where Andrew stood talking with his friend John. They seemed to be in a deep conversation about something.

  Olivia’s heart ached just looking at him.

  She didn’t know where she’d found the strength to push out of his arms and leave his room rather than simply admit she wanted him to make love to her. It had taken all her willpower because it had felt so right to be circled in his warm embrace, pressed against his hard chest, his moist lips on hers.

  It must have been the fear that he would reject her once again if she admitted she wanted him to make her his wife in every sense of the word. And that gave her the strength to walk away from him.

  But she’d learned her lesson about walking into his room no matter what she thought might be going on in there. Twice she’d stepped inside and twice she’d regretted it. If he ever decided he wanted her, he would have to come to her room, to her bed.
>
  “Olivia,” Lady Lynette said softly, as she turned away from the other two ladies and faced Olivia directly. “Before I go, I wanted you to know that I’ve been thinking about what you said about that new apothecary.”

  “I hope my mentioning that hasn’t caused you any duress.”

  Lynette smiled. “Not at all. I was wondering if you would have time to go with me tomorrow after we’re finished with our reading group?”

  “Of course, we’ll plan on it,” Olivia said, feeling excitement for her friend.

  Olivia watched Lynette walk away and immediately started looking for Andrew’s Aunt Claudette. She needed to find her and ask the address of the new apothecary.

  “Olivia, dear,” Agatha said. “Lady Colebrooke is talking to you.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Olivia said, looking at the beautiful blonde woman who stood in front of her with such calm and poise that Olivia had liked her the moment they’d met. “I must have been daydreaming. What did you say?”

  Lady Colebrooke laughed and then said, “No doubt your thoughts were on your husband. I understand perfectly. I still find myself daydreaming about Daniel and we’ve been married over a year. I just wanted to say good-bye and I’ll see you at our reading group tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Yes, I’ll be there. Thank you for the invitation, Lady Colebrooke.”

  “You must remember to call me Isabella.”

  Olivia smiled, suddenly feeling better than she had in days. She had made another friend. “I will.”

  When Isabella was gone Olivia reached over and gave her aunt a hug.

  Agatha looked a little surprised but flattered. “What was that for?” she asked.

  “I just wanted you to know that I’m happy to see you.”

  “You just saw me yesterday.”

  “I know, but keep in mind you have been my constant companion for the past twelve years. It’s only natural I miss you.”

  Agatha smiled. “What a sweet thing to say. I miss having you around the house, too, but I’m staying busy.”

  “I’m sure you are. Tell me, do you know the name of the apothecary that Andrew’s Aunt Claudette mentioned that first night we were at his house?”

  An unusual frown flashed across Agatha’s face. “Yes, indeed I do, but not because I asked. She told me I needed to pay him a visit. Imagine, her suggesting such a thing.”

  Olivia tried not to smile that a certain rivalry existed even though the ladies had been apart for twelve years.

  “Would you like for me to send the name and address over to you? I certainly have no use for it.”

  “Early tomorrow, if you would. I’m going out and would love to stop by and see what he has.”

  Olivia glanced in Andrew’s direction again and caught sight of the Marquis of Musgrove Glenn. He was leaving a group of gentlemen he had been talking to. Perhaps this would be a good time to talk with him about Lady Lynette. Olivia wasn’t having any success with her own marriage, but perhaps she could help her friend with the love of her life.

  “Would you excuse me, Auntie, I see someone I want to speak to.”

  “Of course, Livy. You run along and I’ll see you get the information first thing in the morning.”

  Olivia followed the marquis and caught up with him just before he left the room.

  “How are you tonight, Marquis?” she said, coming up from behind him.

  He stopped and smiled when he saw her. “Quite well, Lady Dugdale. My best wishes to you on your marriage.”

  “Thank you, my lord.”

  “Matrimony obviously agrees with you. You look lovely tonight.”

  “That’s very kind of you to say so, sir.” She smiled at him, took a deep breath and said, “I was talking to Lady Lynette earlier and she was telling me how you two have known each other for a long time.”

  “Yes, I see her each Season, of course, and our families have gone to the same house parties for years.”

  “I suppose that’s how she knew the names of your children.”

  “She knows my children?” he asked.

  Olivia could see by the expression on his face that he was a bit confused as to why she would be talking with him about Lynette and his children.

  As far as Olivia was concerned, if the marquis was looking for his third wife there was no reason he shouldn’t consider a woman who already loved him and cared about his children. And since he didn’t know that, Olivia had decided to make it her business to enlighten him.

  “Yes, I remember a few days ago when we were all talking together that she asked about your children and called each of them by name.”

  He seemed to ponder that a moment. “You know, you’re right, she did. I do recall that now, but I’ve never taken my children to a house party. They’re much too young. Perhaps she heard their mothers talk about them.”

  “I’m sure that’s how she knew, but how lovely of Lynette to remember and to ask about them.”

  Olivia watched the marquis’s gaze look around the room until his gaze found Lynette. She was talking to an older lady whom Olivia didn’t recognize. Lynette’s rose-colored gown flattered her full figure. The red birthmark on her cheek couldn’t be seen from the profile facing them. All they saw was a tall, lovely, self-confident woman talking easily to her companion.

  “The truth is, she’s always been around, but I’ve never paid too much attention to Lynette,” the marquis admitted honestly.

  Obviously not.

  “But it was kind of her to take an interest in my children.”

  “Very kind,” Olivia said. “And not only does she love children and is kindhearted, she’s really quite intelligent.”

  “Oh, I don’t doubt it.” He turned back to Olivia. “It’s a pity she’s never married.”

  “Too true. I’m sure she would make some gentleman an honorable wife, and I know she would be a splendid mother.”

  He smiled indulgently at Olivia again, as if he was catching on to her ploy. “No doubt you are right about her.”

  “There you are, my darling,” Andrew said, coming up to Olivia and slipping his arm around her waist. “I’ve been looking for you.”

  Olivia knew that couldn’t be true. They had been in each other’s sight since arriving at the party.

  He squeezed her waist gently with his hand as he said, “Thank you, Marquis, for keeping her company, but she promised the next dance to me and it’s about to begin.”

  Olivia mumbled a hasty good-bye as Andrew ushered her to the outer rim of the dance floor. They got in position and at the right downbeat took the first step that led them into the flow of all the others crowding the floor to waltz.

  Andrew’s frame was strong, firm, and secure as he guided her through the steps. She loved the feeling of being so close to him, if only for a short time.

  “You looked as if you were enjoying your discussion with the marquis.”

  “Hmm, I was. Is that the reason you decided we must dance?”

  “Yes. You looked like you were enjoying yourself too much. Do you think a married woman should take so much pleasure in another man?”

  She eyed him with a curious stare as they moved among the other dancers. “My pleasure came from the topic of our conversation, not from the man I was with.”

  “And what subject were you discussing?” he asked as he led her in a turn.

  For a moment Olivia wondered if Andrew could be a little bit jealous and a spark of hope ignited inside her as she said, “Lady Lynette.”

  “The Duke of Knightington’s daughter?” he asked. “Why?”

  “Because she’s my friend.”

  “In what way were you discussing her?”

  “In a flattering way.”

  Andrew’s brow wrinkled and his eyes darkened as they swept effortlessly across the dance floor in time with the mus
ic.

  “What you just said told me nothing, Olivia.”

  “Quite the contrary, my lord, it tells you Lynette is my friend and the marquis and I were having a friendly chat about her.”

  “I think your daily amusement comes from tormenting me, my dear wife.”

  “And I think you should trust that I wasn’t discussing anything inappropriate with the marquis.”

  “I didn’t think you were.” His words contradicted the wrinkle between his brows.

  “Then why question me?”

  “I was merely curious, and I might add, you still haven’t told me what the two of you were talking about.”

  “I thought I did. We were discussing Lady Lynette.”

  “You are impossible.”

  You are impossible.

  His words floated over her like a warmed blanket on a cold night. It wasn’t what he said but how he said it. He voice was low and sensual as if he were trying to seduce her. His gaze penetrated hers and she felt connected to him in a way she hadn’t before.

  “I could say the same thing about you.”

  Andrew smiled at her and Olivia felt like her heart flipped in her chest. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and breathe in his scent. She wanted to feel his warm breath on her neck, behind her ear, but all she could do was continue the complicated back steps of the waltz as Andrew guided her.

  “But would it be true?” he asked.

  “Most definitely, my lord.”

  “I’m glad Lady Lynette is your friend,” he said, lifting his arm for her to walk under.

  “I think she’s the only young lady who’s not angry with me for taking you off the marriage mart.”

  Andrew chuckled. “I just realized that you have very effectively taken the conversation off what you and the marquis were talking about.”

  “Not really. I told you we were discussing Lynette and so are you and I.”

  “So what were you doing, telling the marquis all about Lady Lynette’s many attributes?”

  She looked at him with surprise in her eyes. “Yes, that is exactly what I was doing. How did you know?”