Tempted By His Kiss
Page 8
Cade sobered. “Yes, he looks benign enough, but he’s got the instincts of an attack dog. He knows just how to go for the throat.”
“Exactly.” She paced a few steps, then stopped and pinned him with a look. “And now, my lord, I have a question for you.”
“And what might that be?”
“As if you don’t know. What in the blazes are you about, telling him we’re engaged when we most decidedly are not?”
“Oh, but we are, Miss Amberley,” he said, resigning himself to his fate. “For the present anyway. Now, why don’t you take a seat and I shall endeavour to explain.”
“Explain what?”
“My plan to get us out of this fix.”
CHAPTER 8
“You expect me to go to London with you and pretend we are engaged?” Meg asked a couple minutes later from her place on the sofa. “That’s preposterous.”
Cade had resumed his seat as well, his thumb playing across the fox-shaped head of his cane. “Not at all. It’s the only reasonable solution under the circumstance. You can stay with my family and take part in the Season. My younger sister is making her come-out this year, so it will be an easy matter for you to accompany her to the balls and such. Once there, you can search for a likely husband, and when you have located your man, you will jilt me. Despite my distress, I will gallantly step aside and let you marry this other fellow, no harm done.”
“No harm? This is insane, for more reasons than I can count. Besides, I fail to see the necessity. No,” she said, shaking her head. “I shall simply travel on to my aunt’s, as I originally planned, and in a few weeks you can tell the squire that our engagement is over. No one else knows, so that will be that.”
“That, as you say, will not be that. Word of your stay here will spread like wildfire the moment Ludgate decides to open his mouth—which, knowing the squire, won’t be more than a couple of days.”
“But he promised—”
“He only promised not to mention the engagement. He didn’t say anything about concealing your presence in my house. You’ve been here for over two weeks, a fact you yourself confirmed during our conversation.” Cade sighed and spun the cane top in a slow circle. “No, for a prattle box like Ludgate this is prime fodder. Scruples or no, he’ll never let the telling of such a juicy tale slip through his fingers. The stress of keeping such a secret would probably kill him—or else make him explode.”
Normally, she would have laughed at his jest—or at least smiled—but somehow she couldn’t muster the requisite humour. Not now, not today.
“But how far can the news travel,” she argued, “even if he does mention it to one or two people?”
“One or two? By the time he’s done, everyone in this county and the next will be talking of little else. Word will spread all the way to London and beyond. I expect even your aunt in Scotland will learn of it eventually.”
“Surely not.”
He leaned forward, his gaze clear and intensely green. “You must see this is the only way. If you leave here today on your own, your reputation will end up in shreds, whispers and speculation sure to follow wherever you go.”
“But my cousin. I am sure the squire will mention that I was not here alone.”
“And that argument might hold some weight if Amy were actually your cousin rather than your maid. It won’t wash, Meg. People will see through the lie soon enough, then start wondering what else is false about our story, as well as what occurred between us while you were living unchaperoned under my roof. Their conclusions will be base and cruel and bring nothing but unhappiness your way.”
Her fingers grew cold at his words as she realized that he just might be right. How could this be happening? She wondered. In less than the span of a single day, how could her entire life have turned so completely on its head?
Was it only yesterday afternoon that Cade had first kissed her while they stood together on the path outside? His touch driving away the cold as he made her forget everything but him.
Was it just last night that she had gone to his room to wake him from his nightmares, only to find herself in his bed and in his embrace, his hands running over her body in ways that still made her go hot and cold with remembered pleasure?
Was it less than an hour ago that she’d stood in the front hall, attempting to secure her coach so she might resume her journey north? So she could flee from actions and emotions that confused and disarmed her?
With Cade Byron out of her life, she’d assumed time and distance would let her forget, both him and her own foolish behaviour. But suddenly that no longer seemed possible.
So, what am I to do? She pondered. Should she dig in her heels and try to brave whatever might come her way? Or should she agree to Cade’s outrageous proposition and continue this sham engagement of theirs until she could find another man to marry?
And what if there is no other man? whispered a little voice inside her head.
Yet would there be anyone for her in Scotland, scandal or not, living as she would be in a remote village with an elderly woman? And if the scandal did follow her there, she would indeed be disgraced, ruined so that no respectable man would ever have her for his wife. Heavens, under those circumstances, even her aunt might toss her out.
Given those prospects and possibilities, Cade’s offer didn’t sound so very dreadful. And he was right that a London Season would afford her a far better chance of finding a suitable husband.
But what of my pride and self-respect? What of my heart?
Cade had certainly made it clear he didn’t want her. What was it he had said earlier? That a marriage between them would only consign them both to a lifetime of misery. And, of course, there was the shame of knowing he’d imagined her to be another woman, when they were intimate last night. What further proof did she need of his disinterest in her?
Even so, it’s not as if I have feelings for him, she told herself. It isn’t as though I love him. Pushing aside such unsettling musings, she returned to the dilemma before her: accept his suggestion or go on her way?
As if aware of her inner struggles, Cade reached out and took her hand. Her pulse gave an extra beat, his touch so very warm against her own chilled flesh, pleasurable in a way that ought to make her hate herself for responding.
“Meg,” he said, “let me do this for you. After last night, I owe you far more than a mere apology. And as for today, I cannot in all good conscience allow you to depart, knowing your reputation—your very future—may be in jeopardy. As I said before, a marriage between us is impossible, but that doesn’t mean we can’t turn circumstances to our favour by using this ruse. We will be hurting no one with this supposed engagement, yet you will gain an opportunity to not only save your reputation, but make a happy match at the same time.”
She lowered her gaze to the carpeting, visually tracing the geometric patterns woven into the blue and tan wool. “How can you be so sure I will find this other man?”
“How can you fail? I do not exaggerate when I say you are a stunningly beautiful woman. You shall have no difficulty taking your pick of eager suitors, despite their believing you are already promised to me. All the men in London will be queuing up, clamouring for your attention.”
All the men in London except you.
“And what of your family?” she asked. “Will they not feel ill-used by our deception?”
“They will not realize it is a deception. This shall be our secret and ours alone.”
She lifted her head, her chin set at a faintly defiant tilt. “And when I cast you aside? What then? Will they not despise me for breaking your heart?”
“I shall make sure they understand that I am bruised, but far from broken, and that I support your decision. No resentment will follow from that quarter, I promise.” He gave her hand a light squeeze. “So, are we agreed?”
“You are certain about this, my lord?” she questioned. “Are you not afraid I will turn the tables and find a way to force you to the altar?”
An honourable person indeed, she thought wryly. So honourable I am about to commit the most dreadful fraud of my life.
Swallowing, she slid her hand out of his grasp and curled it in her lap. “Very well, Lord Cade, I will be your faux fiancée.”
Three days later Meg sat opposite Cade inside his eminently comfortable coach-and-four as it travelled south on the turnpike to London. She relaxed against the plush brown velvet squabs, taking in the vehicle’s understated luxury, which put her former conveyance to shame. As for her original coach—and coachman—both had journeyed north without her, the coachman entrusted with a letter of explanation for her aunt.
For nearly an hour the day before, Meg had laboured over the missive; ruining several pieces of Cade’s cream-coloured vellum stationary as she struggled to find exactly the right way to inform her aunt that she would not be coming to live with her after all.
In order to protect her reputation, she and Cade had agreed to maintain their fiction about having met in Gibraltar—at least to those of their general acquaintance. Among their immediate family, however, something closer to the truth seemed best.
And so that was what she had written, telling her aunt how she arrived on Cade’s doorstep seeking shelter in the midst of a dreadful snowstorm. Confined together over the next two weeks, the pair of them had quite unexpectedly tumbled head-over-heels in love. Then, unable to bear the thought of parting once the snow began to recede, Cade had asked her to be his wife, and she had joyfully said yes. No wedding date was set as yet, so that she might enjoy the thrill of a London Season, but they hoped to be married within the year.
Reviewing the fabrication in her mind, then again on paper, Meg had read and reread the letter to her aunt to make certain she’d made no errors in the telling. She finished by promising to write again once they arrived in Town. With guilt pinching at her for her deceit, she had sealed the missive with wax and given it to her aunt’s coachman for safe delivery.
Now, as she gazed through the coach window at the winter-bare fields, she thought of London and trembled. She had visited the great city only twice before, and then for very brief periods of time while her father conducted navy business. She’d been a child then, wide-eyed with wonder at all the people and activities that seemed never to grow completely quiet, no matter the hour of day or night. Those visits had been exciting, memorable, with everything and everyone around her a marvel to behold.
But this trip would be different, since she was different, with no one save Cade upon whom to rely—his, the only familiar face among all the new people she would be meeting. And then there was his family. What would they think of her? Cade seemed to take it for granted that she would be welcomed with open arms, but she wasn’t nearly so certain.
She was from a respectable family, true, but had never moved in the lofty circles in which she suspected Cade and his relations travelled. Then there was the modest size of her dowry. Many families—particularly ton families—put great stock in such matters. What if his family disapproved of the “match”? Worse, what if they disapproved of her!
She swallowed and glanced across at Cade, delicately clearing her throat. “So tell me more about your relations, my lord. Considering our supposed engagement, I believe it would be wise for me to know a few details about them.”
He frowned and looked up from his reading. His gaze, finding hers over his silver, half-moon spectacles, never failed to send little tingles of awareness whizzing through her system.
“Pardon?” he asked.
“Your family,” she prompted, shaking off her reaction. “You said I would be residing with them. Is it your mother and sister with whom I will be living?”
“Yes, and a couple of my other siblings,” he offered, laying a finger over the open page of his book. “There’s Mama and Mallory. She’s the one who’ll be making her debut into Society with you.”
“And your sister’s age?”
“She just turned eighteen.” He paused and raised a brow. “Come to think of it, how old are you? I suppose that is one of those facts of which I ought to have knowledge.”
“I am nineteen, due to turn twenty in July.”
“July what?”
“The sixth. And you, my lord? When is your birthday?”
“January twenty-eighth, and I just turned thirty.” He shifted slightly in his seat. “With you and Mallory nearly the same age, I suspect the pair of you will get on like a set of matched greys. You’ll likely be running in tandem in no time at all, assuming you have the least bit of love for shopping.”
“I can be coaxed inside the shops every now and again. And does your sister know you are so ungallant as to compare her to a horse? For my own part, I shall say nothing further on the subject.”
The corners of his mouth turned up. “My thanks, Miss Amberley, since no offense was meant. As for Mallory, she is well-used to being compared to all manner of unsavoury things. It’s what comes of having four older brothers, I suppose.”
Her lips parted. “Four!”
“That’s right. Though last I heard, she’s rid of all but one of them on a daily basis, since Jack and Drake have taken bachelor’s quarters of their own. You’ll only meet those two when they decide to stop by. Edward will be in residence, of course, but then he would be since he’s the duke.”
“The duke!” she repeated, aware of a breathless band of pressure around her chest.
Cade nodded. “Yes. The Duke of Clybourne. Did I not tell you?”
“No,” she gasped. “You did not.”
He chuckled. “Don’t look so stunned. Ned doesn’t bite, at least not much, and he only pulls rank when he’s cross. He’s not nearly so top lofty as some might imagine.”
Cade’s brother is a duke! Heavens!
“So there are five of you, then?” she ventured when she once again caught her breath.
“No, eight.”
“Eight!”
“Hmm. After Mallory there are the twins, Leo and Lawrence, but they’re away at Eton right now, so you’ll likely not meet them except during a visit on school holiday.”
“And the last?”
A tender smile softened his face. “That would be Esme. She’s nine and a delight. I haven’t seen much of her these past few years, but she writes me letters. Sends me drawings as well. I have a likeness of every cat, hound, and horse she’s ever met, and considering the menagerie she keeps in the country at Clybourne, that’s a great many indeed.”
“They all sound…lovely. Your family, that is.”
“Overwhelming, you mean,” he remarked. “Don’t worry. They’ll take you in without a second thought. You’ll be part of the general madness and mayhem before you’re even aware.”
If I am, she thought, I shall have even more reason to feel dreadful in deceiving them. In everything else, she promised herself, she would be truthful, since nothing less would do.
The coach hit a sharp rut, jostling the vehicle despite the excellent quality of its springs. Instinctively, she reached for the coach strap and held on, while across from her Cade did the same.
Moments later the coach righted itself and settled once more into a smooth forward motion. Meg lowered her arm and relaxed against the seat. As she did, she noticed the taut set of Cade’s jaw and the pale cast to his colouring. She watched him adjust his long frame on the seat, closing his eyes as he angled his body into what he obviously hoped would be a more comfortable position. His knuckles whitened as they squeezed around the coach strap.
“Is it your leg?” she ventured in a gentle voice.
His eyes snapped open and fixed on her, sharply green. “Just a twinge. I’m fine.”
She held her silence for a full minute, the coach wheels humming an easy cadence against the road. “Might you be more comfortable if you propped your leg out full-length against
the seat?”
“I shall do as I am for now.”
“As you wish, but there is no need to stand on ceremony with me, you know. I believe the two of us passed that point some while ago.”
A slight twinkle gleamed in his gaze. “Hmm, I believe you are right on that score. Nevertheless, I will stay as I am.”
Folding her hands in her lap, she resumed her study of the scenery slipping past beyond the window. Cade returned to his reading.
Five minutes passed, then ten, Cade shifting every couple of minutes against the seat as if he couldn’t find a satisfactory position.
After another five minutes of the same, she knew she’d had all she could stand. “Enough of your stubbornness,” she said. “Put your legs up on the seat.”
“Miss Amberley, I do not think—”
“You don’t need to think, just do it.”
“I do not believe you have the wherewithal to insist I do anything.”
She stared at him for a long moment, realizing with his superior strength that he was quite correct.
“Very well, my lord. Go on suffering if you wish, but do not be surprised if you find you cannot walk across the inn yard at our next stop.”
He pinned her with a speculative eye. “Are you certain you are not already acquainted with my mother? The two of you should get along famously.”
“If she’s had to put up with five more males like you, then she has my profound sympathies.”
He laughed and returned to his reading.
Less than a minute later, though, he tucked his book to one side and without a word levered his legs onto the seat. A sigh escaped him as he leaned back.
“Here,” she said, reaching for one of the coach blankets. “Tuck this behind you.”
Taking the offered bolster, he attempted to do as she suggested, but couldn’t quite get it properly arranged.
Ignoring the swaying of the vehicle, she stood and took the blanket in hand once more. “Lean forward, my lord,” she told him, folding it in half, then slipping it securely behind his spine. “There. How is that?”