“I have plenty of male friends and acquaintances,” he said quickly. “What I lack is a female’s perspective on this new social world… Does that narrow down the choices?” He put his first finger under her chin and gently nudged her head upwards so she was looking directly into his eyes.
“I’m sure that,” Mary’s throat moved up and down. “I’m sure that any of the young women that gathered around you yesterday would be more than willing—”
“No, I don’t want any of them. They were drawn to me. I wasn’t drawn to them.” He wiped away the stray hair from her face again. “I was drawn to you. So I must say that the only companion I want is you.”
Mary stifled a shaking laugh. “What special qualities do I possess?”
“As I said earlier you have a sharp tongue. You are not afraid to speak your mind and I think that shall come in most useful as I learn to navigate this world and its secrets.” He reached down and took her hand in his, then lifted it to his mouth and brushed his lips across the soft, white silk of her gloved fingers. “But mostly it’s because you’re not afraid to be just who you are: Mary. Just Mary.”
Just Mary. Those words hung in the air, stirring up beautiful memories and feelings from the past. And for a moment Mary felt a twinge of discomfort as if this moment right now was invading the secret and sacred memories of her past.
But Greg was not here now and there was no reason why she could not form new, beautiful memories.
“I should like nothing more,” she said with a curl of her lips.
And just like that, the time faded away.
***
“What is that damned woman thinking?” Greg muttered as he roughly pulled on his coat and headed out the door.
His feet beat loudly on the pavement with each step he took. It was a bit of a walk to his destination but he decided the chilled air and the exercise would do wonders for his temperament. At least he hoped anyway. For the sake of everyone. But most of all for Mary.
He hadn’t been back in London for ten minutes (seven, but who was counting?) when his valet handed him an envelope from none other than Lady Priscilla Thurston.
Greg raised a whimsical brow at his valet as he hesitantly took the envelope.
He drummed his fingers on the seal and bit his lip.
Mary. He knew it had to be about Mary. He didn’t imagine Priscilla taking time out of her busy schedule for anything else. But what was it?
Oh hell. He knew bloody well what. But he ripped open the envelope just to be sure.
Viscount Hampton. Who the hell was Viscount Hampton?
Well, that didn’t really matter, did it? The only thing that mattered was that she had gotten herself into dangerous waters while he was gone.
He was angry but not distressed, he thought as he walked. This was Mary after all. Her character had never been one of modesty and tranquility. She had always been a unique breed of her own. Interesting, intelligent, outspoken, and strong. But careful? No. That wasn’t Mary. Something similar had happened once before when he left town a few years back. Although… if it was the same, just a case of too much flirting and dancing and merriment, Priscilla would not have gotten involved.
Greg quickened his pace.
He hadn’t even had a chance to have a proper cup of tea before he set out for her. Fat lot of good something as weak as tea would do for him now.
He wanted to throttle her.
Well, first he had to make sure that she didn’t end up with an unwanted husband.
Then he’d throttle her.
By the time he reached the party he was in a foul mood indeed. The walk took longer than he planned and the temperature dropped and he was bloody damn tired. He rubbed his eyes and he walked in a side entrance unannounced.
In and out, he told himself. Talk some sense into Mary. And then he’d finally have some tea. Probably with a drop of something else.
Greg quickly scanned the crowd for Mary and when he didn’t immediately see her somewhere in the middle of the action, he cursed her and thanked her at the same time. He remembered from previous parties that there was no garden at this residence so he circled the room searching for hidden alcoves and shadows. It didn’t take him long to spot her. If it hadn’t been for her golden hair shining in the flickering candlelight, he might not have seen her in the shadows. But that golden hair could not be mistaken. There she was.
And she wasn’t alone.
Here we go, he thought as he quickened his pace towards her. He took a deep breath. This wasn’t a good time to lose his temper.
“Mar—” he began calmly but with force.
And then… Greg saw him.
***
Brad’s mouth was intoxicating.
Mary’s eyes were glued to it as they had been for the past week.
Every motion. Every movement. Everything it touched. Mary couldn’t pull her eyes away. She couldn’t stop watching.
During tea, his tongue flicked at the toast crumbs in the corner of his mouth. His lips puckered and blew on his drink. They parted and kissed the edge of the cup to take a sip.
Now as she and Brad danced and made merry at this party, Brad’s mouth caressed his words as he spoke and his lips teased out smiles when he laughed.
Mary’s mouth watered.
Her lips desperately wanted kissing.
They needed kissing.
Brad smiled at her, just a quick curl of his lips full of merriment and vigor, and her insides melted.
Her lips were wet but she licked them anyway, fighting the desire to throw her arms around his neck and passionately cover his mouth with hers in full view of the masses.
Suddenly his lips stopped moving. She involuntarily frowned but before she had a chance to hide her displeasure, he started talking again.
That’s better, she thought.
He took a glass of wine from a tray, placed it to his lips and sipped, slowly. Almost too slowly. One fat, red drop of wine trickled down the side of the glass as he gulped. He licked it off.
He licked it off!
Mary was vibrating. She licked her lips again.
“That’s what I thought,” she saw him mumble to himself with a satisfied smirk.
And that’s when she realized.
The bastard! He was teasing her!
“It is true. You’ve fixated me.” Mary heard her voice leave her body in a low, throaty whisper. “Or rather, one part of you has fixated me.”
“Just a part of me?” Brad set his glass down and held out his arm to her. She took it willingly and let him lead her away from the chaos of the party, to the edges of the hall, where the candlelight flickered and danced in the dark. There they sat on a settee facing each other in the near darkness of an alcove. “And which part is that?”
“I think you already know which part I speak of.”
“Oh, do I?” He swept a stray hair from her face, as he’d come to do over the past week, and then gently put his hand under her chin, tilting her head upward. “I want you to tell me.”
“Such a wicked one!” Mary whispered again. The flickering light accentuated the lines of his face, casting a shadow in all of the right places, drawing even more attention to that one part Mary desired so very much. “Why waste our time with words?”
“I’m wicked?” Brad ran his thumb down over her bottom lip. “I thought you wished to be only platonic companions. To guide me through this harsh, new world.” He let his thumb move lower and trace the line down her chin and her neck. “To teach me. To be my friend.”
“That was your idea, if I might remind you,” she said softly. “Is that what you really want? For me to teach you?”
“Of course,” he responded.
“And to be friends? Is that what you want as well?”
“No,” he said with one throaty breath. “That will simply not do.”
“And why is that?” Mary’s breathe quickened.
“To begin with, platonic companions do not do this.” Brad put his hand
behind her head, the warmth of his palm radiating into her as he pulled her towards him.
She felt herself shaking, wanting, needing, but she pulled away. “Wait. Not now. Not here. In front of all of these people. That would be a…” She shook her head, surprised at her own words and actions. “A scandal.”
“Perhaps,” Brad acknowledged. “No one can see us over here… But perhaps I want everyone to see. That way everyone will know my claim—”
“Your claim?” Mary recoiled.
“No! That’s not…” Brad reacted quickly—the knowledge of his mistake was clear on his face—and pulled her back to him. He put his forehead against hers and sighed. “My words have gotten away from me again… I don’t mean ownership. Of course not. I mean….” He sighed again and cupped her head tighter as he thought. “I mean the claim of my heart. My heart’s statement. It’s desires.”
“Your… heart?” She felt her heart begin to race as a thought occurred to her.
“Of course,” Brad answered but then he realized that she was thinking about something else. “Something is on your mind…” he pressed.
Mary tilted her head. “It’s just that, something about this all—something about you—seems so… so…” Mary circled her hand around in front of her.
“So what?”
“Familiar,” she finally said. “Is that unusual? Does that make sense?”
“Not unusual at all,” he said with a smile that lit up his eyes. “I feel it too. Almost as if I knew you before we ever even met.” And then without giving her a chance to think or reply he added, “All the more reason for this.”
Brad slowly ran his hand along the back of her head. His fingers tickled the soft spot at the base of her neck, coaxing her into compliance.
With each shiver her resistance crumbled. She began to give in and lean towards him once more. Her senses heightened. Her emotions rose up inside of her. She was tingly and hot and aware. My heart. The words rang in her ears, their reverberations shaking her to the core. Her stomach jumped and churned. Her legs felt suddenly restless. She felt like she should run. She nearly did.
Until Mary saw something happen in Brad’s eyes. For just a moment their placid currents matched their sharp blue color by flicking with ice, or so she thought they had. But she must have been mistaken, because when he spoke his voice was anything but harsh.
“Lincoln?” he asked as he dropped his hand from Mary’s head and stood up.
“Barnes? Bradley Barnes…” Greg’s jaw gaped as he shook Brad’s outstretched hand.
Mary fell back on the settee and breathed deeply over and over again.
Oh, thank god, she thought as she blocked out everything else. She wiped her palms against her dress only to find them wet again within moments.
What’s wrong with me?
She had desired Brad’s touch for days, fixated on his mouth, longed for his kiss. But now—now that she was about to have exactly what she wanted—something inside of her was reacting aggressively. Fighting even.
All the signs were there, all the signs that this man was different—that she was different, and her life could be different, yet… Mary didn’t know what was happening or what she was feeling.
Was she afraid of a deeper connection? Was it something as simple as that? Something as simple as the fear of letting someone else into territory that only Greg had ever even come close to occupying…
Greg.
Oh thank God he was here now. Although…With wide-eyed surprise, Mary suddenly realized that the scene happening in front of her was much more interesting and perplexing than what was happening inside of her. What was Greg doing her? And what where those two babbling on about in such a friendly way?
Mary furrowed her brow and looked on in confusion.
“It’s Hampton, now,” she heard Brad say as a wide smile spread across his face. “But you can call me Brad, as you always have.”
“Hampton. Viscount Hampton? You’re Viscount Hampton?” Greg’s voice raised an octave as he looked between Mary and Brad.
“Yes, old friend. What of it?” Brad laughed.
“Only that I heard of your inheritance but didn’t know what you inherited.” Greg shook his head. “I’ve heard of you only I didn’t know it was you…”
Brad laughed again. “Some scandalous rumors, no doubt?”
“Something like that…” Greg mused.
“What have you heard?” Brad asked with a smile but then dismissed his own question with the wave of a hand. “Ah. It’s no matter. It can’t be any worse than the mischief of our University days I gather! How many years has it been? Two? Three?” He clapped his hand heartily on the shoulder of a still startled Greg.
“Something like that…” Greg mused again as he looked back to Mary with wide eyes.
Mary felt Greg’s eyes piercing her and she looked up at him. His fists were clenched and he was breathing rapidly. He appeared equal parts angry and confused. And so was she.
“Old friend?” Mary finally asked as she stood up to face Greg. “Friend? Greg, what’s going on?”
“This is Greg?” Brad pointed at Greg as he looked back at Mary. “This is your Greg?”
“Your Greg?” Greg raised his brow at Mary.
“And this is your Mary?” Now Brad pointed at Mary as he looked at Greg. “That explains why you seemed so—”
“She doesn’t like it when—” Greg began.
“I don’t belong to anyone.” Mary closed the distance between her and Greg and lowered her voice as she asked, “What are you doing here, Greg?”
“What am I doing here? I think I should be asking you what you’re… doing here.” Greg pointed his finger at Mary’s face and drew circles around her mouth. “Thank God I’m here. Thank God for Priscilla. Ha! Never thought I’d see the day when I said that!” Greg ran his hand through his hair as he chuckled before returning to a more serious tone and locking eyes with Mary. “There are people around. Someone might see yo—”
“Priscilla? What does—She told you about all the time I was spending with him, didn’t she?” Mary gestured her thumb towards Brad. “It’s not like she’s blameless in this. Encouraging me and then… Why that little—”
“And right she was to say something. Even Priscilla has the sense to know when something has gone too—”
“I don’t have sense?” Mary’s temper was near bursting.
“Well, you are friends with this one,” Brad teased, interrupting their banter.
“What?” Mary asked as she turned towards Brad.
“Oh, it was only a joke. I’m friends with him too, you know.” Brad laughed. “Though I suppose I’d have to be seeing as Lincoln here was nearly my brother-in-law. What’s your excuse?”
“What?” Mary asked again. Except this time she looked directly at Greg and hit his shoulder with the base of her palm. “Brother-in-law? What am I missing?”
Greg rubbed her shoulder and gave Brad a dirty look. “You’re not missing anything. Brad here is exaggerating.”
“Not exaggerating. Simply…” Brad smiled widely, “…elaborating on a few details.”
“That’s what exaggerating is,” Greg countered.
“Oh.” Brad waved it away with a smile and pointed at Greg. “You did court my sister. That part is true anyway.”
“Yes,” Greg acknowledged as he relaxed slightly. “And the last I heard, Miss Barnes was happily married. To a man she loves.”
“Details.”
“Important details!”
“We could have been brothers, you and I!” Brad pointed at Greg again and then waved his hand. “Oh but why dwell on the past. Here we are together again.”
Greg laughed incredulously. He’d come here with a purpose but for the life of him he couldn’t remember what it was. This whole situation was bizarre and unexpected. While it was true that he and Brad had been friends, it had been years since they’d spoken.
Their lives had taken very different paths at the end of thei
r University days, what with Greg’s titled duties and Brad trying to make a name for himself in business. And then there was the ordeal with Miss Barnes. Though the break was mutual, Brad had been furious and incredibly defensive of his sister. The last conversation between the two men hadn’t exactly been a friendly one…
Greg saw Mary shake her head with wide eyes as she looked between him and Brad.
“I’m going to get a glass of wine,” she said at last. “Do I need to remind you to behave?”
“Who me?” Greg and Brad asked at the same time.
“Exactly.” Mary shook her head again and walked away.
Brad watched Mary go and something about the look he gave her made Greg’s stomach jump. His shoulders were starting to tense up again.
Brad turned back around slowly and put his arm around Greg’s shoulder, taking him aside. “Now that she is gone, we can have a moment to talk.”
Greg raised his brow. “About what?”
“Well, Mary of course,” Brad said as if the answer had been obvious.
“What about Mary?” Greg didn’t know where this was going but he was sure he wasn’t going to like it.
Brad cleared his throat and pulled at his collar and cravat. “What do you think about her?”
“She’s my dearest friend and I’ve known that for years. You know what I think about her…”
“Why yes I do.”
“What does that mean?” Greg asked.
“Only that I know how dear of a friend she is to you. And just that, well, now that I realize this is your Mary—”
“She’s not my Mary,” Greg said defensively.
“The same Mary,” Brad gave him a curious look. “Well, I guess that nearly answers my question…”
“What question?” Greg was growing impatient.
“Since we are friends and she is your friend, I just wanted to make sure that, well…” Brad looked Greg straight on. “She’s not your girl, is she?”
Greg’s stomach was definitely sour now though he wasn’t exactly sure what it meant. He clenched his teeth. “Why?”
“That is a relief then. I wanted to make sure she wasn’t otherwise spoken for. Especially not by my friend. What a shame and a coincidence that would have been!”
Wicked Game 02 - Something Wicked Page 10