Summers' Embrace

by Lora Thomas

  Her thoughts were interrupted by voices. Catrina closed her eyes in disappointment. So much for a time to cool her temper.

  “I will see you inside,” a husky female voice cooed.

  Catrina could see the shadows of two females head in the direction of the stairs.

  Sounds of footsteps upon the stone path came closer. Taking a deep frustrated breath, Catrina gave one last glance at the water and stood. She turned and a startled “oh” left her as she bumped into someone. A pair of strong hands captured her waist to keep her from stumbling backward.

  Thomas kept his composure as Iris chattered about the ball. Hell’s teeth, this woman was dull. Even her idle rambling was boring.

  “What do you think of the gardens?” Iris asked.

  Thomas kept his attention focused ahead of him. Perhaps if he were rude, then she would leave. Then again, maybe not. It was cool for a June day, and Iris lacked a proper cloak. A gentleman would offer a lady his coat, but he did not want to. He tried to appear rude, cold, and indifferent to her needs. Iris had been throwing hints of marriage at him all night. He had tried to leave her company by taking a walk, only to find that Iris and her chaperone had followed him. So he politely took her for a stroll through the gardens.

  “Lord Hawke seemed distracted this evening,” Iris said.

  “I had not noticed,” Thomas replied with indifference.

  “He seemed rather intrigued by Miss Paxsley.”

  Thomas shrugged. “Like all men, he is fickle. His interests will change.” He hoped she would take the hint.

  Iris forced a laugh. “Oh, Thomas, you are such a tease. All men are not fickle.”

  Thomas stopped walking and looked down at Iris. Iris looked to her left and gave a subtle nod. Her chaperone took several steps back.

  “I find that you are not fickle, Thomas,” she purred, running her hand up his arm. “I find you rather caring and considerate of others. Of me. I have enjoyed our time together. I have enjoyed your visits to my home, our rides in the park. Our special times together. And I know I would enjoy them the rest of our lives.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “I would be a good wife,” Iris said, batting her lashes. “I am from a good family and have had wonderful training.”

  The hairs on the back of Thomas’s neck prickled with dread. Was she trying to propose to him? Oh, hell! He could not let this happen.

  “Iris, it is a tad cool outside this evening, and you seem to be lacking a wrap.” Thomas looked at Iris’s chaperone. “Please escort Lady Iris back inside. We cannot have her becoming ill.”

  “Yes, my lord,” the other woman answered. She approached. “Come along, my lady. Lord Huntsley is correct. It is cool, and you should not be outside without your cloak.”

  Iris glowered at Thomas. How dare he?! She had played the part of a dense, devoted lovestruck woman, and he was still ignoring her. She had to get a marriage proposal from him! He was a viscount. And not just any viscount, but a handsome and wealthy viscount who was in line to inherit a vast fortune when his mother died. The Montgomery lands would guarantee that she kept the lifestyle she had become accustomed to. Far more money than any other titled man her age.

  Patience, she counseled herself. You must be patient. He will soon ask for your hand, and when he does, you will have what you have longed for—a title and money. And if not, there was still another way.

  “It is a tad chilly,” Iris said, deciding to play Thomas’s game. “Would you please escort me back to the house?”

  “I will walk you to the edge of the gardens. I need a moment to myself.”

  “I did not mean to be a burden.” Iris coyly fluttered her lashes.

  Thomas smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. “You could never be a burden. It is just that since I have arrived in Eden, I have had constant companionship between Hawke and Artie. I just need a few moments alone.”

  “I understand.” Iris turned and began walking away.

  Thomas walked beside Iris, not offering his arm to her. At the edge of the garden, he bowed and left.

  Iris watched Thomas walk away and clenched her jaw. Damn him! What game was he playing? She looked around the garden and noticed several couples wandering around. She had to make it appear like they were not having any issues.

  “I will see you inside,” Iris called in a deep throaty voice.

  Thomas did not acknowledge her. He kept walking. He wanted her to leave, especially after she nearly proposed to him. He had no desire for a union with Iris—despite his need to wed. He turned onto a gravel path and began following it. His steps stopped when he felt a body crash into his.

  Thomas gazed down at the startled beauty. The last thing he wanted to contend with presently were women, and the one in his arms was no exception. After they parted ways yesterday, she had consumed his thoughts. She haunted his dreams. And he would be damned if he had not noticed her the instant she entered the ballroom. No other woman in the room could compare to her. He kept Catrina within his sight most of the evening. When he saw her dancing with that sod Edward Jackson, anger filled him. That, coupled with Iris’s hints at marriage, made the evening unbearable. As he watched Catrina and Jackson dance, Thomas knew he needed a bit of fresh air. But to his dismay, Iris followed him. And now? Now he found that he did not want to leave. There was something about Catrina that caused his skin to prickle in a way he had not expected. She caused heat to fill his loins, which should not happen because she was his enemy’s sister. The moon’s light cast shadows upon her delicate features, causing her full lips to become more inviting. Her breasts heaved in excitement. He could hear her rapid, frightened breaths.

  “I beg your pardon,” Thomas spoke.

  “Lord Huntsley?” Catrina said, collecting her bearings. “What are you doing here?”

  “I was about to take a walk. But I should be asking you the same, Miss Wilcox.” Thomas looked around. “Where is your chaperone?”

  Catrina swallowed and blinked several times. After their encounter yesterday, his curtness surprised her. “I needed a bit of time alone.”

  “From whom?”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “From whom do you need to be away from? Mr. Jackson?” He sounded like a jealous suitor.

  “Are you keeping tabs on me, Lord Huntsley?”

  “I saw the two of you before your dance. You seemed quite smitten with the boy.”

  Catrina squared her shoulders. Was he purposely baiting her for a fight? “Who I am and am not smitten with is none of your concern, sir.”

  “True. But considering how enamored the two of you appeared to be led me to wonder what happened for you to part company with him so quickly.”

  “Lord Huntsley, you are too bold.” Catrina stepped to the side to breeze past Thomas but was stopped when he gently took her upper arm.

  “I apologize, Miss Wilcox. I meant no offense. I only meant to warn you against him.”

  “Warn me against him?” she questioned in surprise. “Or are you worried that he will warn me against you?”

  Thomas smiled, and Catrina could feel her insides quiver. His eyes roamed over her in a fashion that led her to believe he knew what she looked like without her clothing. Her inner reasoning told her to bolt, but another voice told her to stay.

  “Far from it. My reputation precedes me. His, not so much.”

  “And what has Mr. Jackson done that is so horrid? Has he insulted innocent young women only trying to help?” She hoped he understood her ambiguous question.

  Thomas knew the barb was at him. He did not give in to her taunt. “He has ties in France.”

  “France? Are you claiming he is a traitor? You do not know him.”

  “And neither do you. But I have lived in London, Miss Wilcox. I know his family. His father has connections in France, and those connections have ties to Napoleon. So be wary of associating with him else you may find yourself labeled a traitor as well.” Thomas released her arm and captured a
stray lock of her hair. He gently stroked her hair and leaned in close to her ear. “I would just hate to see that lovely neck of yours in a hangman’s noose.”

  His breath upon her neck caused a shudder to run through Catrina, and it was far from unpleasant.

  He released the lock and caressed her cheek. “No one as beautiful as you should die because of an innocent association.”

  That one simple touch cause heat to flood to the most intimate places inside her body. She closed her eyes and leaned into his hand.

  Thomas stepped in front of her, his palm never leaving her cheek. Tilting her face upward, he leaned over, his lips lightly touching hers. It was only meant to be an innocent act, but Thomas longed for more. He fought the desire to pull her hard against his body and explore her mouth with his tongue. He fought the desire to pick her up and carry her away from the garden to a more secluded location. He needed to break the kiss, but the innocent way her lips moved over his was hypnotic.

  Laughter from the other side of the hedge broke the spell. Thomas raised his head, but the couple kept their eyes locked. Catrina’s breasts rose with each of her rapid breaths. She nervously licked her lips. What had gotten into her? She was acting like a wanton. But yet, she wanted more. She liked the way his lips felt upon hers. She liked the way his mouth explored hers. She craved more.

  Thomas’s thumb caressed her cheek once more before he turned from her and departed, leaving her to wonder what would happen the next time they met.

  Chapter Ten

  Thomas entered the house and scanned the room. Damn her! Catrina Wilcox was not to have the type of effect on him that filled his body with lust. She was young and naïve and irritating. She was not a person he wanted to associate himself with. She was not the type of woman he wanted in his life. Yet, he could still taste the sweet wine upon her lips. Still smell her intoxicating scent. Still feel her softness pressed against his body.

  Someone walked past him and gave him a polite greeting. Thomas returned the greeting and looked around the room again. The same people were still milling about. Others were in the center of the room dancing. Iris was in the opposite corner speaking with her mother. She looked in his direction, and he turned before she could notice him.

  “Huntsley! There you are. I was beginning to think you had deserted us,” Hawke said.

  “Or perhaps he found a woman to slip away with for some alone time. Someone more intriguing than Lady Iris,” Artie said and laughed.

  “Are you drunk?” Thomas asked Arthur.

  “Not yet, but that is my intention.” Artie held up his cup. “I intend to have a rousing good time in a room full of parvenus.”

  “Parvenu?” Hawke repeated. “Egad, Artie, you are foxed. Most people here have not recently risen in status. We were born into this world.”

  “Then, upstarts. Is that more to your liking?”

  “Call them whatever the hell you want,” Thomas said. “Most are intolerable.”

  Artie and Hawke both gave Thomas a confused look.

  “You are part of the parvenus Artie is referring to,” Hawke supplied.

  “He’s not concerned about that,” Artie said, leaning in close to Thomas. “He is angry. Who made you angry, Huntsley? Lady Iris?”

  “One of many,” Thomas snapped.

  “Hmmm?” Artie said, looking around the room. “Who has irritated our Huntsley?” He spotted someone entering the same door that Thomas had. His eyes went between Miss Wilcox and Thomas. Miss Wilcox appeared flushed and nervous. “Did you have another encounter with the lovely Miss Wilcox?”

  “What? No. Do not be absurd,” Thomas replied.

  Thomas’s rapid defense caused Artie to grin. “So it was the lovely Miss Wilcox. Did she wound your pride again? Perhaps kick you in the bullocks?”

  “Do you want me to kick you in the bullocks?” Thomas retorted.

  Artie downed his brandy. “Not particularly.”

  “Then shut the hell up.”

  “Artie,” Hawke intervened. “Our friend is in pain. Can’t you see that? Lady Iris has been his constant shadow this evening. She is on the hunt for a husband, and Huntsley requires a bride to keep his inheritance. The problem is that he has only been seen publicly with one lady, Iris Parker. Yet he has no desire for her.”

  “That is not the issue,” Thomas growled.

  “It is part of your issue. One is your mother. And that is an issue that can be addressed at a later date.”

  “I am confused,” Artie said, snatching a drink from a passing tray.

  “Try to keep up, old man,” Hawke told Arthur. “Huntsley’s issue is that he has no need for his inheritance but does not want his mother to get her greedy hands upon it. We have until the first of September to find him a suitable woman and get him married. But that is an issue for London, for we are in Eden and on holiday.”

  “Then, why is he angry?” Artie questioned.

  “Why not?” Hawke supplied. “Sometimes, it just feels good to be mad as hell.”

  “Sweet Judas,” Artie mumbled. “I need better friends.”

  Hawke gave a cheeky smirk. “No one would put up with you, but us, you know that.”

  “No,” Thomas interjected. “I need new friends.”

  Joshua and Artie both laughed.

  “No one would put up with you but us,” Hawke repeated.

  Arthur took a drink and looked around the room. “Uh, oh. Better watch out, Huntsley, your flower approaches.”

  “Shit,” Thomas mumbled as he spotted Iris walking in his direction. “Help me out.”

  “No,” Hawke said, swatting Thomas on the back. “You have to buck up and end your relationship with the boring Lady Iris.”

  “Then, Artie can have her.”

  “Me?” Artie squeaked, his eyes widening in horror.

  Hawke’s eyes widened with humor as he rubbed his chin. “Now, that is not a bad idea.”

  “But she is boring!” Artie said.

  “How do you know?” Hawke said, his mouth twitching as he watched Artie squirm.

  “She can be boring,” Artie corrected.

  “Huntsley does not find her overly boring. If he did, he would not have bedded the chit.”

  “Hawke,” Thomas warned.

  “Come now. We all know it.” Hawke shrugged with indifference. “And you need boring, Artie. Mayhap, it would end your frivolous spending and ways.”

  “How am I frivolous?” Artie asked.

  “With your investments here in Eden. With your gambling. With—”

  “Those are not frivolous,” Artie defended. “Those are investments with insurances.”

  “And what insurances does gambling have?” Thomas asked.

  “Shut up, Huntsley,” Artie snapped. A grin suddenly appeared upon his face. “I would punch you in the face, but another pain has just arrived.”

  “Lady Iris,” Hawke said, shooting a knowing sideways glance at Thomas as he bowed.

  “Lord Hawke,” Iris acknowledged, giving a curtsey. “Mr. Heath.”

  “Lady Iris, always a pleasure to see you,” Artie said, nodding his head.

  Thomas shot both of his friends a heated look.

  “Have you heard?” Iris asked.

  “You must be more specific, Lady Iris,” Artie slurred. “I hear all sorts of things.”

  “Pay him no mind,” Thomas said. “He is enjoying Mr. Ingram's brandy more than he should.”

  “Of course,” she said, coldness to her voice. Remembering her place, she softened her tone, “Mr. Ingram has come up with a grand plan—”

  Before she could finish, the man in question shouted, “Ladies and gentlemen! May I have your attention?!”

  The voices softened from a loud murmur to nothing.

  “Thank you,” Mr. Adkins said. “As you know, Eden is the newest and most upcoming seaside resort. We have all enjoyed the medicinal benefits of seawater, from sea bathing to partaking in a nightly dose of seawater in our tumblers before bed. Although the sea
's health benefits are phenomenal, there are some things that it cannot aid. Childbirth. Broken bones. Deep cuts. And for those reasons, Eden is not as grand as she should be. For those reasons, Eden needs a physician. As you are all aware, physicians are not free. They require some form of payment and enticement to leave their current practices. I have been corresponding with a renowned doctor. A doctor whose skill has saved countless lives on the battlefield. A doctor who is viewed with the highest esteem among his colleagues and peers. Major Percival Thornsburg.

  “After sustaining a significant injury, Major Thornsburg ended his practice in the military. He said he would not put the lives of His Majesty's army in jeopardy because of his inability to aid his fellow soldiers during battle. The Major lost his leg during a battle, yet his mind is still sharp. I think he would be a great addition to the Eden community. This being said, Major Thornsburg has agreed to become a part of Eden when he can acquire enough money for his travel expenses. So I propose we assist Major Thornsburg by paying for those expenses.”

  Murmurs of agreement echoed around the room.

  Mr. Adkins held his hand up to silence the crowd. “I cannot ask only one person to assist. No, that would not be fair. I propose that we have an auction to raise the money. And not just any auction. No, no. A man of Major Thornsburg’s reputation should have more than travel expenses. I suggest that we not only raise money for that but for lodgings and a household staff, as well.”

  “What do you suggest?!” a voice in the crowd asked.

  Mr. Adkins pointed at the man. “I am glad you asked, sir. I believe tonight we should hold an auction. And not just any auction. This auction will be most unique. Since it is for a good cause, I suggest that if a man wishes to dance with any lady present, he must bid for her.”