Her mouth spread into a thin-lipped smile offering no encouragement for further conversation.
Never one to back down from a challenge, Patrick kept to the superficial conversation that was always deemed acceptable. "The weather has been pleasant."
"Yes, quite pleasant."
He was hoping to draw her into further conversation. "Have you seen anything of interest at the theatre this season?"
"No." Her answers were short, almost rude. A tense silence enveloped them.
Patrick decided to shift strategies. "You look quite lovely this evening." The light blue ribbon weaved intricately in Miss Redgrave's hair reminded him of his late mother. "My mother always wore a blue ribbon in her hair, it was her favorite color." Had he just spoken that out loud? Patrick never discussed his feelings for his late mother. Her sudden illness and untimely death were still too painful for him.
The heavy lashes that shadowed Miss Redgrave's crème colored cheeks flew up. There was an initial softness in her surprise that made his heart thump, but just as quickly it disappeared behind a cool façade.
Couples lined up and within moments they were parading downstairs toward the dining room. The loud chatter from dozens of people echoed off the marble floor, offering no opportunity to converse.
Once ensconced in the dining room, the situation did not improve. Miss Redgrave sat silently, distracted by some unseen force. He wondered what she was thinking. Had he insulted her? Patrick was puzzled by her reaction.
To make matters worse, Miss Redgrave still seemed wary of him. He was sure she had heard the rumors surrounding his family and his reputation. If he was to stand any chance of winning her over, she needed to see him in a different light.
By the time the dessert course had been laid, he was no closer to enticing Miss Redgrave than before. If anything it appeared he was rapidly spiraling downward into an abyss. He had never had such a difficult time charming a woman in his life.
Leaning toward her, Patrick whispered softly for Miss Redgrave's ears only. "You needn't be afraid of me. I am quite harmless."
"I am not afraid of you and although you might appear to be harmless, you are not a saint." She was the second female in so many days to state that minor character flaw, but her frank assumption of him lit a fire within. He suspected that beneath Miss Redgrave's composed façade and stormy blue eyes laid a fiery temptress.
Before he could tempt her further, Lady Mayland rose from her seat signaling the end of the meal. The other ladies in turn stood and followed their hostess.
Miss Redgrave did not say a word, but offered a small mischievous smile before she took her leave. Patrick didn't know exactly what it meant, but he was more than willing to find out.
When the men rejoined the ladies, Patrick was beyond anxious to have a moment with Miss Redgrave. His initial tactics during dinner had not worked, not until he'd teased her. Her response to his statement had intrigued him and he desired more.
"Lord Leybourne, won't you join our game?"
Patrick turned to the source of the question. Lady Capers, one of his late mother's dearest friends. Much to his dismay, the woman had taken it upon herself to watch over Patrick and his sisters.
"Perhaps another time." He offered no further explanation, but went in search of Miss Redgrave. He would not be joining any game, not tonight, not ever. Patrick had already crossed his invisible line with the bet he'd made earlier in the week with Pickering. He was not going to tempt fate further.
Across the room, he spotted Miss Redgrave sitting alone on a settée, gazing off into the distance. She was a vision in light blue silk, an angel from his dreams.
"May I?"
She nodded her head in acquiescence.
He was not going to waste time on superficial conversation, best to get to the heart of the matter.
"I'm surprised you haven't yet married."
"I had no intentions of marrying," Aveline said in an adamant voice.
Most young ladies dreamed of marriage. Both of his sisters used to talk of little else. Then it struck him, she said she'd had no intentions. Finally, something was going his way. He wondered what had changed her mind.
"Why ever not?"
She shrugged her shoulder with a brief response. "I wasn't fond of the idea."
"But think of what you'll be missing." Patrick said in the sly seductive tone meant to entice that had never failed him before.
"I've been kissed before and I don't see what all the fuss is about."
"Then you haven't been kissed properly or rather…. improperly, Aveline."
Despite the nonchalant shrug of her shoulder, her eyes were wide with interest, and her cheeks blushed to a delectable soft pink.
Seducing willing actresses and widows was one thing, but an innocent was another matter entirely. But there was something about Miss Redgrave that didn't seem quite that innocent.
Patrick leaned in closing the distance. "Challenge accepted."
A soft gasp left her lips as her head snapped forward. She offered a sideways glance. Her full pink lips were in a partial smile. "You are quite bold."
"Only when I want something."
Heat radiated between them. It had been years since Patrick was enticed by the possibilities of the chase. Aveline was no average lady of the ton.
Stolen Kisses from the Viscount: Chapter Three
AFTER DEPARTING LADY MAYLAND'S, PATRICK WAS too restless to return home. In the past he would have sought out a pleasurable diversion, but since inheriting the title and a mountain of debt that amusement had become less appealing. He wandered toward his club, not sure what he hoped to discover but anything was better than roaming the streets in the middle of the night.
When he arrived at White's, he was mentally exhausted. The bet weighed heavy in his mind. He slumped down across from Pickering, one of his oldest friends and partner in debauchery since Eton. But for Patrick, that lifestyle had gone by the wayside with his father's death, whereas Pickering was still enjoying those nefarious entertainments.
Pickering held up a glass of brandy, the amber liquid danced in the glass from his unsteady hand. "Are you going to join me for a drink?"
"No." Patrick would not succumb to another of his father's vices. One was enough. The last time he'd tempted fate and imbibed was the day his mother had died. He had paid a heavy price for that ill-considered escape. He would not take that chance again. His sisters and aunt were depending on him to set things to rights.
"Are you ready to concede that you're not going to win the wager, Leybourne?"
"No, everything is proceeding as planned," he declared with feigned confidence. In all the years they had known each other, he had never lost at anything to Pickering, and he wasn't about to start.
"And you're still not going to reveal the young lady who has captured your heart?"
Patrick chuckled. "Falling in love was never part of the bet, only marriage." The problem was his heart was already softening. When he made this bet, he had not anticipated Aveline. But he had to see it through to the end.
"You don't need to be so touchy. I was just inquiring. I am looking forward to finally winning," Pickering said with a smug tone that made Patrick want to punch him. Pickering's ramblings were trying his last nerve. "I have need of your money. I still don't know how you managed to dig yourself out of that hole."
That was another taboo topic Patrick was unwilling to discuss. "Where there is a will, there is a way," he offered casually.
Only his immediate family and Lady Capers knew the extent of the Leybourne woes. And Patrick was not about to mention he didn't have enough funds to back this bet. You've never lost to Pickering, he reminded himself.
"One day you are going to fall on your rump and I will be there, laughing in your face." Pickering lifted his glass and gulped the contents. "Yes, I believe I shall enjoy that very much," his words slurred out in a lazy drawl.
Patrick could not stomach this conversation any longer. He stood and stormed t
hrough the club with Pickering's laughter on his heels. His instincts told him he should have called off the bet, but he was not going to let Pickering get the better of him.
When he stepped outside, a cool wind and slanted rain slapped him in the face and urged him home. The weather had taken a turn for the worse. By the time he reached the house, he was drenched. But instead of retiring, he retreated to his cold study. There were hardly any furnishings left, just a desk and two chairs. The books that had once lined the walls had been sold, along with everything else of value. The only ornament left was an ornate wooden box he had made for his mother, but she had not lived long enough to see it.
Patrick went to the window and stared out into the darkness. If only he had known his father was gambling again, perhaps he could have stopped him. Rubbing a firm hand behind his neck he contemplated everything that had gone wrong over the past eighteen months.
Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply. Too many things had been out of his control. He could not turn back time, but he could secure his family's future.
He was going to bring his family out of this. He was going to win that bet. He was going to marry Aveline.
IT HAD BEEN A miserable night. The constant pitter-patter of rain on the window had kept Aveline awake all night. It seemed Mother Nature was just as impatient as she, as if they were both waiting for something to happen, but were content to be miserable until it did.
She could not forget the look on Lord Leybourne's face when he'd spoken of his mother. He'd seemed just as surprised as Aveline. She had witnessed a side to him that she never would've thought a rake like him would have possessed. Much to her dismay, that comment had softened her resolve against him. And hadn't Lady Capers said he would do anything for his family? He is still a rake and rakes cannot be trusted. Her argument was beginning to sound weak even to her own ears.
Aveline was trailing behind, her feet dragging, and her arms heavy with the weight of her small sketchbook. She hadn't really wanted to go for a walk this afternoon. If she were still a young child, she would have been kicking up dirt and pebbles in protest as they walked.
"Come along, dearest," Aunt Winnie called to her with an energy that bespoke someone half her age. Aunt Winnie had always been fond of long walks in the park and today was no exception.
It seemed as if everyone in London had ventured to Vauxhall after such an unpleasant night. Hordes of people were strolling along the Grand Walk. It was a fanciful parade of colorful bonnets and fashionable dresses, and Aveline was a willing voyeur. She enjoyed watching people rather than being on display.
"I do believe that's Lord Leybourne in the distance," her aunt commented. "I wonder who the young ladies are."
Aveline squinted against the bright sunlight as Lord Leybourne, flanked by two extremely attractive young women, came into focus. Even from this distance they looked to be identical. Aveline was all too familiar with the rumors that had circulated around her father, and assumed Leybourne enjoyed similar activities.
Uncontrollable jealousy brewed from within. Why should she care with whom he strolled with or what activities he indulged in? It was none of her business. And to think of all the hours of sleep she had lost dreaming of him gathering her into his arms and showering her with kisses.
She was still fuming when Leybourne and the two young women approached. "We meet again, Miss Redgrave." He flashed her one of his notorious debonair smiles, which only added to her angst. She would not be fooled by his suave mannerisms.
"Lord Leybourne, what a pleasant surprise it is to see you here this fine afternoon. I was just telling my niece that it seemed as if all of London was out enjoying the day. The rain from last night seems to have cleansed the air."
Aveline fought the urge to cross her arms and tap her foot. Last night he'd been so kind, even when she'd been trying her best to be aloof. But now he was parading his latest conquests in front of her.
"That is precisely why my sisters and I ventured to Vauxhall this afternoon." Leybourne flashed Aveline another one of those smiles, the scoundrel.
She glanced from Leybourne to one of his sisters, back to him, then to the other one. The resemblance was quite astonishing. The girls must be twins. Damn him for proving her wrong, and damn herself for thinking the worse of him.
"Lady Jagger, Miss Redgrave, allow me to introduce my sisters, Miss Leybourne and Miss Parnell."
"We are so pleased to make your acquaintance Miss Redgrave," Miss Parnell exclaimed with excitement.
"Yes, Patrick has spoken very highly of you. He said you are an excellent dancer."
"That's quite enough, Patience," Leybourne said with a lighthearted tease. An easy smile played at the corners of his mouth. "You might give Miss Redgrave the wrong idea about me."
Aveline watched the interaction between him and his sisters. She had always wanted a sibling and envied the affection that passed between them. He seemed to be such a caring brother. A pang in her heart struck to the very core. Leybourne's concerned gaze reached hers, his eyes softened with understanding. Perhaps she had been wrong about him all along.
Thankfully Aunt Winnie steered the conversation back toward a more superficial topic. "I hope we will see you this evening at Miss White's ball."
"I look forward to it." Leybourne stepped away from his sisters, turning his attention to Aveline. "Will you reserve me a dance this evening?"
"I would be delighted." Aveline's heart leapt for joy, but her mind scolded her for being far too eager. A few kind words and a sympathetic gaze did not erase Lord Leybourne's past. This was not what she needed if she were to stay firm in her resolve against rakes and scoundrels.
WHEN PATRICK SAW AVELINE'S reaction in Vauxhall earlier, he knew he would not have any trouble wooing her, and Miss White's ball was the perfect event at which to enact his plan.
This was going to be an easy undertaking. Kiss her thoroughly, seduce her, and then marry her. By his estimations, they would be married within the month. His financial woes would be at an end. Everything was going to turn out exactly as planned, perhaps even better.
The reeling in his stomach mocked and told him otherwise. Nothing in life was completed in three simple steps.
The moment Aveline entered the crowded ballroom, hushed whispers about Lord Redgrave's ultimatum danced through the halls.
Even from a distance, he was drawn to her. The elegant blue silk gown accentuated her womanly curves and brought out the color of her enticing eyes. Patrick edged through the crowd, wanting to be near her, but not wanting it to appear he was crossing the room to see her.
Sauntering over to Aveline and Lady Jagger, he kept his gaze focused on Aveline, demanding she look his way. But by the time he reached them, she had yet to offer even a slight glance in his direction.
He would not allow her nonchalance to interfere with his goal. "Good evening, Miss Redgrave." He bowed and then offered his hand. "I believe you promised me a dance."
"Lord Leybourne." Her features were reserved and composed. She nodded her head in acquiescence, and accepted his hand. "Despite what you said earlier in the day, I am quite surprised to find you here this evening."
Had she been gleaning information about him? The thought boosted his ego, but there was an underlying tone he was unsure about. "How so?"
She gave him a sideways glance. "There are no actresses or women of ill repute in attendance."
Clearly Miss Redgrave did not have any issue speaking her mind. Wanting to paint himself in a better light, he corrected her with an honesty that shocked even himself. "I am not interested in that sort of entertainment anymore. There are other things on my mind."
"Such as?"
Just then the music began. The dance did not allow for much conversation, but when they met on the next pass, Patrick whispered, "You."
Aveline's cheeks reddened and he knew it was not from the dance. They parted and changed partners. Several steps later, they rejoined, and he continued his enticement. "And kissing you."
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Patrick was enjoying the effect he was having on her and decided to take full advantage of the situation.
When the dance came to an end, he did not return Aveline to Lady Jagger, who appeared completely enthralled in conversation with Lady Capers. Instead he changed directions, pulling her behind a boisterous crowd of nearly intoxicated young men, and down a candlelit hall. Within a matter of moments he had pulled her inside some dark room and pressed against the door.
"So you believe you're immune to my charms?" He whispered the words across her cheek to her ear.
"I know I am," Aveline said in a purring whisper that sent a jolt of excitement through his veins. He loved the thrill of the chase and nothing would give him - and her - more pleasure than for him to chase, catch, and seduce her.
He did not kiss her immediately. Instead he waited, brushing his lips across her jaw, breathing in her intoxicating scent. The tiny sounds mewing from her lips were like an aphrodisiac to his senses. She was caged between his arms. Removing one hand from the door he weaved a line down her neck, across her chest, circling one ample breast through the silk fabric. The rise and fall of her chest confirmed she was enjoying his ministrations as much as he enjoyed giving.
His tongue traced the soft fullness of her lips. He raised his mouth from hers and gazed into her passion filled eyes before claiming her mouth. The moment their lips touched, Patrick knew he was lost forever.
Aveline's hands explored his shoulders, settling into his hair. He fought for control. His mind reeled with thoughts of taking this simple seduction to the next level.
But the decision was made for him when Aveline pulled back. Her breathing matched his own labored breath, as she seemed to struggle for composure.
"Aveline, that was…"
"It was fine, nothing earth shattering." She muttered hastily. "Nothing I haven't experienced before. This was an…an interesting experiment, Lord Leybourne."
Once Upon a True Love's Kiss Page 48