A Hint of Seduction

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A Hint of Seduction Page 15

by Amelia Grey

“Yes, and you must not do that anymore, Catherine.”

  “Right. No more,” she managed to say coherently.

  “It makes your lips too . . . too—”

  “Too what?” Catherine asked, remembering how passionately John’s lips had ravaged hers over and over again.

  “Well, they look too kissable.”

  “Too kissable?” Catherine choked out between pretend coughs, which she hoped covered her shock at how close Victoria was to knowing exactly what went on in that closet.

  “Yes, and they might tempt some brave young gentleman to try and kiss you. Especially a rogue like that dashing Lord Chatwin. We wouldn’t want that, would we?”

  “N-no, we wouldn’t.”

  Victoria smiled, again seeming quite pleased with herself. “Splendid. So no more teeth on your lips.”

  “I’ll be more conscious of that, Vickie. Thank you for pointing it out to me.”

  “Now finish your champagne and meet me by the door.” With that Victoria whirled and left in a puff of brown satin skirts.

  When Victoria was out of sight, Catherine handed her glass to a servant and walked over to a dark corner where a large urn filled with flowers stood and hid behind the arrangement. She put her hand over her mouth and laughed softly. She was weak with relief that she hadn’t been caught and giddy with happiness.

  She couldn’t believe she had passed another close call. Obviously a guardian angel had been watching over her tonight.

  She was grateful Victoria didn’t know that her lips had already been kissed. She leaned against the wall and smiled. She felt wonderful. She would be seeing Lord Chatwin tomorrow. And while it was very important she convince him to help her find her real father, she realized that it was even more important to her that she just spend time with him. She knew that all too soon he would want to leave her for another.

  Catherine heard voices and laughter very close to her, and that reminded her she needed to meet her sister. She started to push away from the wall when she heard Lord Chatwin’s name mentioned. It wasn’t her intention to eavesdrop, but her curiosity got the better of her, and she found herself moving closer to the flowers so she could hear what the group of young men were saying.

  “Poor Lord Chatwin, what an unlucky fellow. I wouldn’t want to be in his boots.”

  “Me either. Not for his title and all the land that comes with it.”

  “Imagine, having all of London thinking that a lady ghost spooked your horse and then rode off on it.”

  She heard laughter. And at John’s expense.

  A protective feeling unlike anything she’d ever felt before rose up inside her. She wanted to tell them to stop.

  “And it’s not only the phantom lady he has to worry about. Imagine the whole of London knowing he was thrown from the gelding when he’s supposed to be one of the best riders of the old bachelors.”

  Old bachelor? Catherine wasn’t sure she was hearing this correctly. Was Lord Chatwin now considered one of the old bachelors? Surely not? John was maybe a year past thirty. She remembered how hard his chest was and how firm and muscular his back and shoulders were. Even now she could close her eyes and feel the strength of his embrace as he held her close.

  Old? John?

  She peeked through the flowers and recognized the three gentlemen as young men in their early twenties. Perhaps they did consider John old, but Catherine didn’t.

  “Damnation, do you think he’s losing his skills with the ladies?”

  There was more laughter.

  “Do you think he really believes it was a ghost who knocked him off his horse?”

  “I heard the Marquis say that he looked as if he had seen a ghost that morning.”

  “All I can say is I’m glad I’m not the one who fell off my horse.”

  Anger built inside Catherine. They were not talking about the Lord Chatwin she knew. Catherine had a strong desire to bound from behind the urn and tell the young men that she was the lady on the horse.

  “Bloody, yes.”

  “Some of us have decided to meet in the park at dawn tomorrow morning to see if we can find Lord Chatwin’s lady ghost. Do you want to come along?”

  “I’ll be there. If there is a specter haunting the park, I want to be one of the first to see her.”

  There was more laughter and then the shuffling of feet as they walked away.

  Why wouldn’t this story go away?

  She wished she’d never taken his horse that morning. It was her fault that he was being ridiculed like this. First with the young ladies earlier in the evening and now with the men. Even his best friend Lord Dugdale had been outrageously angry with her about what this story had done to John’s reputation. And now she understood Lord Dugdale’s feelings.

  She couldn’t let this go on.

  She had to do something.

  But what?

  She looked around the room as if some inspiration would hit her out of the blue. And it did. There in a flowing gown of a faded plum color was Lady Lynette standing by the buffet table eating an apple tart.

  Lynette had once boasted she knew everyone in the ton, and others had told Catherine that, too. Catherine was going to give her the chance to prove it. What she was about to do would make Victoria very unhappy, but it was time for Catherine to step up and take responsibility for what she had done and suffer the consequences whatever they may be.

  Shoring up her courage, she walked over to Lynette, who had just taken the last bite of her tart, and said, “Lynette, do you mind if I have a moment of your time?”

  “Of course not,” she said, daintily dabbing at the corners of her mouth with a napkin.

  “Good. I need you to help me with something.”

  Clearly she was taken aback by Catherine’s comment. “Me? Oh, I’d love to. I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone ask for my assistance before.”

  Catherine smiled, glad that she had flattered Lynette, although that wasn’t her intention.

  “I’m sure that’s not true. You seem very levelheaded to me.”

  “Thank you. What can I do for you?” she asked eagerly.

  Catherine sucked in her breath and said, “You indicated to me a few nights ago that if I knew something about Lord Chatwin and who rode his horse in the park that I should talk to you.”

  Lynette’s eyes lit with intrigue and Catherine watched as her gaze scanned the room as if to see if anyone were watching or listening to them.

  Then she said, “Yes, by all means if you know something, you can surely tell me.”

  “The person I really need to talk to is Lord Truefitt, and I was hoping you could help me find him.”

  Her eyes widened. “Oh, but you can’t talk to him. No one knows who he is.”

  “Piffle. I don’t believe that. How does he get the information that he writes each day in his column? Someone must know how to get in touch with him to give him the information he writes about.”

  Lynette remained quiet, studying Catherine.

  “Would you know how I could get some information to Lord Truefitt?”

  Lynette laid her napkin on a table and touched Catherine’s arm and indicated for her to move to the far side of the room with her.

  Catherine followed.

  Lynette bent close to her and in a low voice said, “I might. I’m not promising anything or admitting to anything, but I may know how to accomplish getting information to him.”

  “I would really appreciate your help.”

  “If I do this for you, you must promise never to tell anyone I helped you. My name must never be mentioned in connection with Lord Truefitt.”

  “Oh, never would I tell anyone.”

  “Promise not to tell and hope to die if you do.”

  Catherine was a little stunned at the juvenile oath from a lady who had to be in her late twenties, but she immediately agreed. “Yes, I promise.”

  Lynette smiled and relaxed. “All right, I believe you. Now tell me what you know.”

  Cat
herine took a steadying breath. “I have proof Lord Chatwin was not thrown from his magnificent horse, and it was not a ghost riding the animal in the park. The woman was flesh and blood.”

  Her eyes rounded. “You know who she is?”

  “Yes. I was the lady riding his horse.”

  Doubt showed in Lynette’s face and her eyes. “You? Are you sure?”

  Exasperated Catherine said, “Of course I’m sure. I was there.” Catherine stopped. Saying that made her sound as silly as Lynette.

  “I wouldn’t admit to this if it wasn’t true.”

  “Perhaps you are trying to get your name mentioned in the column.”

  “No, that’s not true. In fact, I was hoping Lord Truefitt would find a way to get the straight story without using my name. I have no desire to show up in his column.”

  Lynette nodded. “All right, go on.”

  “I only want Lord Truefitt to know I was the one riding the horse so he will stop writing about it in his column so everyone will stop teasing Lord Chatwin about a ghost.”

  Lynette’s lovely green eyes widened even further with surprise. “You are in love with him, aren’t you?”

  Catherine gasped. “What? No. Of course not. How absurd. I know he is unattainable.”

  “Good. He has broken many young ladies’ hearts. All of them were sure they could win his.”

  “I understand that.” Catherine wasn’t prepared for how empty she felt when she admitted that. “I simply feel guilty that his fine reputation is being ridiculed when all he did was help me when I needed it.”

  Lynette didn’t look convinced and the truth of it was Catherine wasn’t convinced herself, but she didn’t have time to argue the point with Lynette or search her inner feelings.

  “So tell me, how did you come to be riding on his horse?”

  “It’s rather a long story.”

  “I’ve got time and I want to hear it all.”

  “But I don’t have that much time,” Catherine said, glancing at the door. “Vickie is waiting for me so we can go to another party.”

  “Then quickly tell me what happened.”

  Suddenly Catherine wished she had something to drink. Her throat was dry again. She felt desperate to clear John’s name no matter the cost to her own. She had no intention of telling Lynette exactly what happened, only as much as she wanted her to know.

  Catherine told the story, making John out the hero who assisted her and let her borrow his horse.

  “My goodness!” Lynette exclaimed. “Your horse almost collided with Lord Chatwin’s. How dangerous. Were you harmed?”

  “No, but it was frightful. If not for both of our riding skills, the horses would have smashed together and been injured or killed, not to mention what would have happened to us. As it was, my mare, who was not as well-schooled as Lord Chatwin’s, panicked and tossed me off, then ran away.”

  “Leaving you there alone with Lord Chatwin.”

  Catherine cleared her throat. “Yes. And he was a perfect gentleman. I told Lord Chatwin that I needed his horse so that I could get help for our groom.” She tried not to worry about not telling the story the exact way it happened.

  “What did he do?” Lynette urged her when she had stopped for a moment’s breath.

  “Lord Chatwin of course offered to do the proper thing and ride for help, but he didn’t want to leave me alone in the park, so we decided that I should ride his horse and get help as quickly as possible.”

  “That is a fascinating story. Why didn’t you want anyone to know?”

  “Lord Chatwin suggested we not tell anyone about it because he didn’t want it to in any way blemish my reputation as this is my first Season and the incident was truly innocent.”

  Lynette’s face softened and she smiled wistfully. “He is a true gentleman.”

  “Yes, that is why I can no longer allow this outlandish story of a ghost to continue. There is no ghost. But having only been in London a few weeks, I have no idea how to get the story to Lord Truefitt so that he might write about it. Lord Chatwin would never speak up and tell the truth of what happened, so I must even if it damages my reputation.”

  Lynette smiled the most satisfied smile Catherine had ever seen anyone wear, and suddenly she knew that she had done the right thing. The true story needed to come out.

  “Do not worry, Catherine. I will see to it that the real story comes out and that your name will not be listed. And I will make sure that both you and Lord Chatwin are considered heroes.”

  “Both of us? But I did nothing but take his horse. That is, when he offered it.”

  “And help your groom.”

  “Oh, yes, right. Thank you for doing this,” Catherine said.

  “No, my dear Catherine, thank you, and remember our deal that you tell no one you spoke to me about this.”

  “I won’t forget.”

  Lynette reached out and took hold of Catherine’s hand. “Thank you for trusting me with this. I have one other very dear friend who once trusted me like this. Her name is Millicent. She’s the wife of Lord Dunraven. He’s the married one of the Terrible Threesome. Have you met Millicent?”

  “No, I don’t believe I have.”

  Lynette smiled. “I’ll see that you do. I think you two will become good friends.”

  Fourteen

  IT WAS THE warmest day of the year so far, and John felt every degree of temperature, but his hotness had nothing to do with the hat on his head, the gloves on his hands, or his intricately tied neckcloth. It was all about Catherine Reynolds.

  He’d been in a perpetual state of heat since he first glimpsed Miss Catherine Reynolds’s blue eyes, and it had only gotten worse when he’d tasted her passion. He took hold of Catherine’s hand and helped her step up and into his phaeton. She sat on the seat cushion and arranged the skirts of her French blue carriage dress as he climbed up beside her.

  It was the first time he’d seen her wear the color blue, and it made her eyes all the more startling and gorgeous. She seemed to match everything including the clear blue sky that for the first time in months didn’t have a white or gray cloud anywhere in sight.

  He was going to have a hell of a time keeping his hands to himself. Already he wanted to touch her soft cheek and feel the firmness of her breasts again.

  She looked delicious enough to eat with a spoon. His lower body stirred with an awakening that he knew he was going to have trouble keeping under control the entire afternoon.

  Catherine popped open the lace-trimmed parasol that matched her dress before waving good-bye to Mrs. Goosetree who stood in the doorway of her home watching them. John picked up the ribbons and then pulled the brake handle. He was eager to be away from the watchful gaze of Catherine’s domineering sister.

  As they drove down the street, he realized he liked the fact that of all the young ladies in London Catherine was the one sitting beside him on this glorious spring day. He was looking forward to spending a couple of hours alone with her.

  “Did you see the Marquis last night?”

  John didn’t know why that question was the first one out of his mouth except that it had been on his mind since she’d told him she planned to see Westerland at a party last night.

  “Yes.”

  That was all she was going to say?

  “Did you dance with him?”

  “As a matter of fact I did.”

  John’s stomach knotted with that same feeling he’d experienced before whenever he thought of Catherine with Westerland. He didn’t want Westerland even touching her when dancing.

  “Did you take a walk with him on the terrace or somewhere else?”

  Like to a private room somewhere in the house.

  He looked over at her. She was staring at him, surprise showing clearly in her lovely face and eyes.

  “Yes. How did you know?”

  I’m a man.

  The only answer he gave her was a shrug. How could he admit that he knew every man wanted to steal a few kisses fr
om a woman as beautiful and as charming as she. The problem was that because of Society’s strict rules concerning proper behavior, most of them didn’t have the courage to do it.

  Did Westerland?

  John didn’t know.

  “Did the Marquis tell you we strolled on the terrace after our dance?” she asked.

  It was an experienced guess.

  “No, I haven’t spoken to him, but it wasn’t hard to figure out.”

  “Oh.”

  “Oh. Is that all you have to say?”

  John clicked the ribbons on the horses’ rumps, and they picked up their pace. He knew he sounded annoyed, and he was. He didn’t understand it, but he knew he didn’t want Westerland anywhere near Catherine.

  “I’m not sure what else you expected me to say,” she said.

  “How about he kissed me or he tried to kiss me.”

  He heard her laugh softly, and he loved the sound of it as it wafted past his ear. It couldn’t have aroused him more if she’d laid her hand on his leg.

  “Well, I could say that.”

  He jerked his head around to look at her, and she smiled sweetly at him. They hit a bump in the road and bounced on the seat. Catherine had to hold on to the armrest, but he didn’t slow the horses.

  “But if I did it wouldn’t be true. Lord Westerland was a perfect gentleman, and he didn’t even try to kiss me.”

  “Truly?” John asked.

  “Yes.”

  A milktoast just like I thought.

  John smiled at her before turning his attention back to the road. “Good,” he said and should have let the conversation drop with that, but being the man he was, he couldn’t stop there.

  “Would you have let him if he had tried?” he asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Catherine?”

  “All right. I suppose I would have. It would have been educational.”

  He slapped the ribbons on the horses’ rump again, and they went even faster through the streets of Mayfair.

  “Educational? Excuse my cursing, Catherine, but how in the bloody hell would kissing him be considered educational?”

  She twirled the handle of her parasol in her hand, and without looking at him she said, “I would then know if his kisses made me feel the same way yours do.”

 

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