Dancing With A Devil

by Julie Johnstone

  His contemptuous tone echoed in her ears. She wanted to run out of the garden go home and sob for what she was sure she’d just lost forever. Instead, she forced her gaze to Whitney, who was staring, with a puckered brow, at the door Trent had slammed shut. Audrey had a strong desire to jerk her friend inside somewhere private and rail at her, but from the utterly bemused expression on Whitney’s face Audrey had a sinking suspicion her dear, meddling friend had thought to induce Trent to jealousy so he would admit his feelings. Instead, Whitney had driven him away. Maybe he’d come back?

  Audrey found herself staring at the door until Lord Thortonberry spoke beside her. “Shall we go inside and view the art?” His voice was tight with an underlying note of irritation.

  Audrey tried to school her features before answering. She nodded, and as he offered his arm to her, the garden door banged open, and Audrey’s heart leaped with hope, then fell with such intensity it likely shattered forever. One beleaguered-looking nanny came out with two giggling toddlers. The children darted down the steps, almost knocking the nanny over. As she teetered on the top step, Audrey scrambled toward her to steady her.

  The nanny screamed out the children’s names with such ear-splitting intensity, Audrey winced.

  “Mary and Martin, come back here,” the nanny wailed. Audrey caught a glimpse of the little girl’s pink skirt just before she disappeared around the corner of the garden maze.

  “I’ll never find those children before their mother finds me. I’ll be fired,” the woman wailed. She looked at Audrey with mournful eyes. “I try. I really do. Those children are too spoiled for their own good.”

  Audrey glanced beseechingly at Lord Thortonberry. “Do you mind?”

  “Not at all,” he automatically replied, yet had his jaw clenched. Did he not like children? She definitely needed to ask him that. Marrying a man who might be unloving to his children was out of the question. Lord Thortonberry strode toward the garden at a clipped, purposeful pace.

  Audrey frowned, a memory of those children nagging her. “Are those the Duchess of Primwitty’s niece and nephew?”

  “Yes, my lady. The duchess’s sister, Lady Brighton, is inside.” The woman glanced behind her then turned back. “She insists on bringing them everywhere,” the nanny said in a low voice. “His lordship claims it’s because their last child died in the care of the nanny while they were out, but I suspect it isn’t just that. She’s American, you know. She’s the daughter from the first marriage and the duchess’s half sister. I can tell you she is nothing like the duchess, a true English lady, who I adore.”

  Audrey shot a beseeching gaze to Whitney to leave rest the reference that the woman being American somehow made her less of a true lady, but it was too late. Whitney gripped the woman’s arm and tugged her toward the door. “My husband is American,” she said in a torturing tone. “We shall see what their customs are in raising children.”

  “But my lady,” the nanny protested as the garden door once again opened and then banged shut.

  Audrey suppressed a hysterical giggle. Whitney had likely been too livid at the indirect insult to her husband to consider that she was taking the woman away from her charges and leaving the little devils in Audrey and Lord Thortonberry’s care. With a sigh, she started toward the garden but stopped when Lord Thortonberry yelped. Not a second later, his voice carried on the wind. “You insufferable beast. Do not kick me again.”

  Audrey frowned fiercely and crossed her arms over her chest. If Lord Thortonberry was going to speak that way to the child, the man deserved to be kicked. She strolled to the bench and sat down. After the liberties he’d taken with her, he deserved his comeuppance, and perhaps it was best served by a precocious toddler.

  Trent was five steps away from leaving his cousin’s home when Dinnisfree appeared out of the shadows and stepped in front of him to block his path. His friend folded his hands across his chest. “Where are you going?”

  “Home,” Trent snapped, dodging around the duke and then letting out a warning growl when Dinnisfree grabbed his arm.

  “What has happened? I thought I was to keep Thortonberry occupied for you while you made Lady Audrey yours.”

  Trent ignored Dinnisfree’s bantering tone and jerked out of the man’s grip. “What has happened is that you bloody failed at preoccupying the competition, and I was waylaid by Lady Audrey’s nonsensical, chattering aunt, who I suspect must have been preoccupying me either by her own design or Audrey’s. While I was busy answering a thousand mind-numbing questions, all asked with a curious proverb thrown in, the woman I thought to take as my wife was happily ensconced in a lurid embrace.” Fierce anger and something else, something raw and throbbing much like―no far greater than―any wound he’d ever received, sliced at him. His chest felt constricted, his throat tight and his nerves on edge.

  Dinnisfree cocked his eyebrows. “Lurid, you say?”

  Trent nodded.

  “Someone was naked, then?”

  “Naked? Good God, you reprobate, what sort of woman do you take Lady Audrey for? No one was unclothed. She was locked in Thortonberry’s arms, kissing the man.”

  “And you’re certain she wanted to be kissing him?”

  “I did not think to ask her,” Trent retorted, allowing all the annoyance inside him to pour out with each word.

  Dinnisfree shook his head. “Let me ensure I have the right of this. You’re leaving with your tail tucked between your legs because you think the woman you claim to desire, only desire, mind you, was willingly kissing another man?”

  Trent’s entire body tensed as Dinnisfree’s words broke through his anger and hurt. Yes. Damn it. Hurt. Pain. The very thing he was striving to avoid ever feeling again. “What am I doing?”

  “You’re losing her.” The duke’s face became thoughtful for a moment. “I cannot believe I’m about to give you this advice, considering my own repulsion toward the state of matrimony, or any soft emotions, but you’re already lost, so I suppose I can do no greater harm than you’ve already done to yourself by your continual pursuit of a woman who demands your heart. You must find a way to give it to her.”

  “Give it to her?” Thoughts were crashing around in Trent’s head nosily.

  “Yes.” Dinnisfree flashed an exasperated look. “Allow yourself to fall.”

  Trent would be damned if he’d discuss the particulars of love with Dinnisfree or anyone else. He cleared his throat. “I’m not prepared to fall, but you’re right, I should be fighting for her.”

  “At least you’re taking half my advice,” Dinnisfree said with a shrug. “I predict in the end you’ll take it all. I’m wiser than I look.”

  Trent ignored his friend’s bantering tone and considered how to outwit Thortonberry. “Come with me.” Striding back toward the hall that led to the garden, he motioned Dinnisfree to follow him. He paused in front of the window and watched Audrey. What the devil was she looking at? He glanced at the garden and narrowed his gaze on Thortonberry carrying a wiggling child with another child, a boy, dragging his heels behind Thortonberry. Trent glanced back toward Audrey. She now stood and a huge smile lit her face as Thortonberry approached her. Trent growled, thinking the smile was for the marquess, until he realized when Audrey took the child, then served Thortonberry a dark frown, that the joy on her face was directed at the children. Trent clapped Dinnisfree on the back. “I need you to run interference, but listen carefully to the new plan.”

  Audrey scrambled to her feet as Lord Thortonberry picked his way toward her with the children. The young girl squirmed wildly on his hip, and the boy dragged his heels as Lord Thortonberry tugged him along. When they stopped in front of her, Audrey held her hands out for the girl, who looked as if she might, at any second, take a nice fat bite out of Lord Thortonberry’s clutching arm. Without hesitation, he thrust the wiggly child toward Audrey. “Here,” he said, his words clipped as he nodded down toward the boy. “Take this one too.”

  “This one?” Distaste filled Audr
ey’s mouth as she took the young boy’s soft hand in hers. His tiny fingers immediately wrapped around hers and she gave him a gentle squeeze. “His name is Master Martin. Isn’t it, dear?” She looked at the little boy, who vigorously nodded his head, making his blond curls bounce around. The little girl pressed a sticky palm to Audrey’s cheek and tugged, until Audrey turned to look at the child’s face.

  “I’m Mary,” she announced proudly in an angelic voice. Audrey’s heart tugged and she grinned at the children. She couldn’t wait to have her own children to pour all her love into. She would dote on them the way she’d always longed for her father to dote on her.

  Lord Thortonberry cleared his throat. “Why don’t we take these two dev―”

  Audrey glared him into silence, then blew out an exasperated breath to let him know she was not at all happy with him.

  “Darlings,” he muttered hastily, but his lips pressed together as the word left his mouth.

  Unease crawled up Audrey’s spine as she tried and failed to imagine Lord Thortonberry on his knees in the nursery playing with their children. The way the man was acting at the moment, it would be more likely that he never visited the nursery. Perhaps she was being too hard?

  “Let us take them to their nanny and continue on with our day,” he finished in a strained, awkward tone.

  Audrey shook her head. “I’m going to stay outside with them and play. They clearly want to. Don’t you?” The children both nodded their heads at once and erupted into chattering over what they wanted to do first.

  “Who do we have here?” a deep masculine voice she heard every night in her dreams said behind her. Her heart hitched as she slowly turned toward the garden door. Trent stood on the steps, devilishly handsome, with one hand causally on the railing and the other propped on his hip. The sun shone behind him, making his hair gleam like dark gold.

  Her pulsed beat rapidly at her neck, temple, heart, well…everywhere. She wanted to shout you came back. Instead she said much calmer than she felt, “this is Master Martin and Lady Mary. These are the Brighton’s children.”

  As Trent descended the steps, Audrey noticed his friend, the Duke of Dinnisfree, was loitering behind him. She inclined her head with a smile. “It’s nice to see you, Lord Dinnisfree.”

  He grinned at her, displaying the bewitching smile she’d heard many a lady giggle over. “Call me Justin,” he said casually, as if they were intimately acquainted.

  Her response was cut off by Lord Thortonberry. “She won’t,” Lord Thortonberry said with an attitude of such superiority that Audrey gaped at him. A hot retort scalded her tongue, but Lord Justin’s wink eased away her anger.

  “I’d be happy to call you Justin,” she said sweetly.

  Beside her, Trent chuckled before he leaned down to peer at Martin, who was now silent and clinging to Audrey’s skirts. “Well, my lad,” Trent said in a pleasant tone that made Audrey smile, “it doesn’t seem fair that your sister is being coddled and not you. Shall I hold you?”

  “On your back?” the boy shyly asked.

  “There’s no better way, is there?” Trent bent down and placed his hands on the ground.

  “No,” the lad replied as he clambered on. When Trent came up with a grin on his face, his eyes shining, and his large hands wrapped protectively around the smiling child, Audrey’s heart felt as if it would burst. Trent clearly loved children and she clearly loved Trent. Bother, oh, bother. If only he would love her back, things would be perfect.

  Trent started galloping around the grass and pretending to be a horse with the little boy laughing merrily on his back. Audrey hugged the child on her hip who was watching her brother’s ride with obvious longing. “Shall I give you a ride?”

  “Lady Audrey, why don’t you give the child to Dinnisfree, and the two of us can go inside,” Lord Thortonberry suggested.

  Audrey frowned as Justin held up his palms and shook his head. “Sorry, my lady, I don’t give rides.” Dinnisfree grinned wickedly. “To children, that is.”

  A furious blush heated Audrey’s cheeks. “Justin, really. Please try and mind your tongue.” She could see by the devilish twinkle in his eye it had been the absolute wrong thing to say. She expected another lurid, albeit witty rejoinder, but he surprised her by turning to Lord Thortonberry. “Actually, Thortonberry, I came out here in search of you. Lady Gillian says you must come see the art. She knows you’ve recently been to Ireland and the piece is from there. She and her husband are having a debate and she insists you settle it.”

  “I can’t leave Lady Audrey.”

  “Oh, but you must,” Audrey rushed out, still irritated with his high-handedness with her and the children, and she had a desperate desire to have a few minutes alone with Trent to try to explain what he’d seen earlier.

  “Yes, you really must,” Justin added. “It’s rude to deny our hostess her request.”

  “Yes, all right.” Lord Thortonberry agreed with obvious reluctance. “I’ll be back shortly.”

  She nodded, then proceeded to help Mary climb on her back and join Trent galloping around the yard. Twenty minutes later, they were all in an unceremonious heap on the grass. Well, all but Audrey. She sat in the grass with her legs tucked under her and watched Trent. He lay back casually as if he could care less about his expensive coat getting dirty, and she believed he truly didn’t care. Blast the man. He made her love him more just by being him. He had one child balanced on his knee and the other, Mary, sat by his head playing with his hair. When he finally sat up, his hair stuck up in disarray all over.

  Audrey giggled and the children joined in pointing at his hair. “What is it?” he asked, patting the air around his head.

  Audrey was quite sure he knew, but it was marvelous of him to entertain the children in such a way. She snickered again before answering finally. “Your hair is a mess.”

  He stopped patting the air and grinned at her, making butterflies dance in her stomach. Suddenly, he sat Martin beside him on the grass and then reached over and ran a thumb over her cheek. “Your face is a mess.”

  “I beg your pardon?” she murmured, wanting to press her hand to her cheek that tingled from his touch.

  He brushed her face again, making her pulse skitter. “You’ve something smeared on your face that looks very much like jam, but never fear, you’re still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

  A warm glow of happiness flowed through her. Egads, she was probably smiling like a silly nitwit. She tried to school her features, but the rakish grin pulling at his lips told her she’d failed miserably. She pursed her lips together in an effort to quit smiling like a fool. “Thank you.” Heaven above, her voice was husky. Her heart pounded as his eyes devoured her. If they’d been alone she was positive he would have kissed her and that kiss, his lips to hers, would have been heaven. Her toes curled in her slippers at the thought.

  “Children, there you are!” a concerned female voice called.

  Audrey craned her neck back toward the house entrance. A beaming Lady Brighton came toward them with her arms held wide. The nanny was fast on her heels. As the children rushed to their mother, were properly chastised and then kissed, Audrey exchanged a long, heated look with Trent. He helped her to her feet, his hand lingering on hers longer than was proper but shorter than she wished for.

  They traded pleasant greetings with Lady Brighton, then were left in the garden utterly and perfectly alone. She turned to Trent at the same time he turned to her. He took her hand and silently led her behind a large tree and away from anyone who might chance by the windows and see them in the garden. Her heart thundered as she followed him, her pulse becoming even more erratic when he pressed her back to the tree trunk and slid his hands to either side of her shoulders. Trapped in his embrace was the only place she’d ever wanted to be. If only he would open up his heart and love her. If only he would say the words.

  “I didn’t willingly kiss Lord Thortonberry,” she blurted.

  “No?” He quirke
d an eyebrow before leaning so close to her that every breath she took filled her lungs with his masculine scent.

  “No,” she whispered, barely able to form the one word.

  “Shall I challenge him to a duel for liberties taken?” Unblinking, Trent’s gaze bored into hers.

  She shook her head. “Quit teasing. I just wanted you to know I’m not participating in that kind of courtship.”

  A frown greeted her. “Do you mean the sort of courtship where those participating get to kiss you?”

  She nodded.

  “It seems only fair since he got to.” A faint trace of humor underlay his deep voice and made her shiver with delight.

  Her whole body filled with longing for his kiss. “You’re right. It’s only fair.” She closed her eyes and within seconds, his lips descended on hers softly, reverently and perfectly. She would have melted into a puddle, if it were possible. A tingle began in the pit of her stomach as his kiss deepened, and his arms moved from the tree trunk to encircle her waist. She twined her arms around his neck at the same moment her chest crushed against the hard plane of his stomach and chest.

  Pressed so close, the rapid beat of his heart pounded against her skin. As their tongues touched, intertwined, receded and mingled once again, she moaned. He wanted her with the same intensity she wanted him, but that had never been in question. The problem was whether he could love her. Not wanting to, but knowing she needed to, she pulled back and flattened her palms against his chest and heart. “Trent―” She looked at his chest as she spoke. “Do you adore children as much as you seem to?”