To Seduce a Bride

by Nicole Jordan

  “And I cannot imagine living my life with you, Heath,” she said rather desperately. “You know I plan to never marry.”

  “Because you fear being hurt.” His eyes delved deeply, intently into hers. “I cannot guarantee that I will never hurt you. I can only swear that I will never betray you or abandon you. But you will have to take me on faith. I cannot make you trust me, any more than can I make you believe my feelings for you.”

  Clenching her fingers together, Lily retreated another several steps. “I don’t believe you truly love me,” she repeated fervently. “Noblemen of your ilk don’t fall in love.”

  Faint amusement touched his mouth. “Try telling that to Marcus and Drew.”

  Knowing she was losing the debate, Lily groped for an even more desperate argument. “Even if you did fancy yourself in love with me, you cannot promise me fidelity forever. My father was disastrously unfaithful in his marriage, and you could be just like him. I couldn’t trust that you would give up your myriad lovers for my sake.”

  Heath’s gaze was intense, clear, and suddenly ruthlessly focused on hers. She could see he was struggling to keep his emotions in check, and his tone held a rough edge when he replied. “Even if you question my honor, you should have more confidence in your own abilities. Any man who can command all that fiery passion of yours in bed will likely never stray. Fidelity is one thing I can promise you.”

  Lily shook her head again. “It doesn’t matter how many promises you make, Heath. I won’t risk it.”

  His jaw hardening in frustration, he raked a hand through his hair. “Your cherished independence will be cold comfort when you are old and gray. You were not meant for spinsterhood.”

  She raised her chin stubbornly. “I was willing to be your mistress, but you turned me down out of hand.”

  “Because carnal pleasure is not enough for me. For you, either, I am sure of it. And that is something I can prove to you.”

  Her regard turned uneasy. “What do you mean?”

  Closing the distance between them, he reached up to cup her left breast. Lily jumped at the unmistakable sizzle of lightning his touch engendered. As her nipple sprang to taut life, she drew back, shaken, and turned away in alarm, blindly reaching for the door.

  She had grasped the handle when Heath wordlessly moved to stand behind her, drawing her back against his body. She felt the warmth of his thighs against the backs of her legs, even through their clothing.

  His voice dropped to a rough murmur. “Shall I prove my claim, sweet Lily?”

  “No, don’t—”

  “I think I should.” He molded himself to her body, triggering a surge of heat deep inside her. “I could take you right here, you know…from behind, so that I wouldn’t even have to see your face.”

  When he lifted her skirts, Lily went rigid, feeling the sudden kiss of cool air on her bare thighs, her exposed buttocks. She couldn’t believe Heath was acting this outrageous way. It would be scandalous to make love in a church.

  His wickedness shocked her, but his coldness shocked her even more. Yet she was powerless to pull away, and she remained mute as his hands slid softly over the globes of her buttocks, even when his knee eased her legs apart.

  When his fingers trailed up her inner thigh to brush against her silky folds, though, Lily gasped, her stomach clenching as she felt those long, strong fingers caressing her. When he teased the bud of her sex, Lily gritted her teeth, fighting that part of herself that hungered for him. It was shameful, how much she wanted him.

  Then he slowly slid a finger inside her and nearly buckled her knees. She pushed back against him helplessly, locking her jaw to hold back her moan of need, her hand gripping the doorknob as if her life depended on it.

  Yet he was right, Lily realized in some distant part of her mind. Carnal pleasure was not enough. His touch was detached, passionless, calculating. Nothing like the tender lover she longed for.

  His voice was just as remote when he spoke again. “I don’t believe I will take you this way after all. You see, angel…if all I wanted was nameless, faceless sex, any woman would do.”

  Withdrawing his finger from her, Heath let her skirts fall. Lily shivered with disappointment and shame, but it appeared he wasn’t done with her.

  He kept his body pressed against hers while his lips found her ear. “I could make you scream with pleasure, Lily. But in the end, all that would be engaged are our bodies. It is your heart and mind I want. Your very soul.”

  A sharp ache escalated in her chest while absurd, ridiculous tears pricked at the back of her eyes. She bit her lip hard because she didn’t want to cry, but Heath went on, his voice harsh and low.

  “It is you I want, Lily,” he repeated. “Not any other lover. Not any other woman. Not any other wife. But I intend to grant your wish. I am through chasing you and beating my head against the walls you’ve erected. Unless you agree to wed me, I intend to keep away from you.”

  His hands reaching up to lightly grasp her shoulders, he eased her away from the door and opened it, then stepped out into the corridor. But he glanced back over his shoulder at her, his eyes dark as night and bright as fire.

  “What we have between us is unique and very rare, Lily. Only a fool would throw it away. I never took you for a fool, but perhaps I was wrong.”

  He left her standing there, staring after him. He couldn’t have unnerved her more if he’d shaken her. She felt dazed, dismayed, miserable.

  Which was supremely foolish. Heath shouldn’t have the power to hurt her. But he had walked away, Lily acknowledged, feeling the hot sting of tears behind her eyes.

  Becoming aware of her weakness, she dashed furiously at the dampness. She wouldn’t cry over a man as her mother had done so frequently. Indeed, there was no reason for her to cry. This was exactly what she had wanted, hoped for! For Heath to leave her entirely alone.

  She had been right to refuse his offer of marriage; right to reject his dubious declarations of love. She couldn’t deny that a sharp pain had settled in the pit of her stomach, but there would be far worse pain in store if she allowed herself to be drawn into loving him.

  Wiping her eyes one last time, Lily took a shaky breath and left the room in search of Basil.

  “Where the devil have you been?” he demanded when she found him outside on the portico. “You told me to remain beside you—”

  “Never mind, will you please just take me home?”

  His gaze narrowed. “What is wrong, Lily? Have you been crying?”

  “Yes, because I am sad at losing my sister. But nothing is wrong. Indeed, everything is utterly perfect.”

  She kept telling herself that during the entire drive back to the boardinghouse, no matter that she couldn’t make herself believe it for a single moment.

  As soon as they entered, however, Lily was jarred from her emotional turmoil.

  Something was wrong, she realized as Ellen came rushing up to her in agitation. Apparently the chambermaid had been watching for her arrival.

  “Oh, Miss Loring, Miss Delee wants to see you right away!”

  “What is the matter, Ellen?” Lily asked, somewhat alarmed.

  “I don’t know exactly, but I think it has to do with Miss Irwin.”

  “Where is Miss Delee?”

  “In her sitting room upstairs.”

  “I will go to her at once,” Lily said, turning away quickly.

  She hurried up the stairs with Basil hard on her heels. When she reached the sitting room, she found Chantel wringing her hands and Fleur pacing the floor. Another distraught woman was seated on the sofa, her face splotched with tears.

  Fanny’s dresser, Joan Tait, Lily realized as she entered.

  “Thank God you are here, Lily!” Chantel exclaimed, while Fleur’s head snapped up.

  “Where is Lord Claybourne, Lily?” Fleur demanded urgently. “We need him at once!”

  “Why?” Lily asked in bewilderment, looking from Fleur to Chantel and back again. “What has happened?�
�

  “That dastardly O’Rourke took Fanny, and we need Claybourne to rescue her!”

  Chapter Eighteen

  For a nobleman Lord Claybourne is exceedingly fearless and daring, even heroic.

  —Lily to Fanny

  “He took Fanny?” Lily repeated, her stomach clenching with dread.

  “Yes,” Chantel replied hoarsely. “That devil abducted her in broad daylight. Tait saw it all.”

  Trying to control her alarm, Lily turned to Fanny’s dresser. “Tell me exactly what happened. You saw Miss Irwin being abducted?”

  Gulping back tears, Joan Tait nodded vigorously. “Yes. Just as Miss Irwin returned from the wedding a short while ago. Mr. O’Rourke’s carriage was waiting on the street in front of the house—I saw him from an upstairs window when his coach door opened. Then two hulking footmen jumped out and pushed Miss Irwin inside, and the coach drove off right before my very eyes.”

  “She didn’t go willingly?” Lily asked, wanting to be certain.

  “No, Miss Loring. I heard her cry out for help.”

  Basil clenched his fists in fury. “That bastard. If he has harmed her, I swear I will kill him.”

  Lily felt a similar sentiment. Fear and fury warred inside her as she imagined what Mick O’Rourke might be doing to Fanny this very moment. “How long ago was this, Tait?”

  “Perhaps twenty minutes. I came directly here—I didn’t know where else to turn.”

  When the dresser started weeping again, Chantel patted her shoulder comfortingly. “You did exactly right. Lord Claybourne will help.”

  “I am not waiting for Claybourne,” Basil declared, spinning on his heel and heading for the door.

  “Basil, stop!” Lily exclaimed. “You cannot go off half-cocked. We need a plan.”

  “My plan is to find O’Rourke and cut out his liver.”

  Lily shook her head, thinking furiously. “They are right. Lord Claybourne can help us.” Although she wasn’t certain he would be willing to help her after their acrimonious parting barely an hour ago. But she knew Heath would be more capable of dealing with O’Rourke than she and Basil were.

  Basil wasn’t of the same mind, obviously. “You go fetch him, Lily. I am riding to O’Rourke’s gaming hell to find Fanny.”

  “He won’t be naive enough to take her there. Not when he knows that is the first place Fanny’s friends will look for her.”

  “But that is the best place to start,” Basil insisted. “You find Claybourne and meet me there. I mean to save Fanny from that devil’s clutches,” he growled as he stalked from the room.

  Basil would likely head to the mews to fetch his horse, Lily conjectured, so it was up to her to find Heath—

  “I need your carriage,” she said quickly to Fleur.

  Joan Tait lifted her head. “I have a hack waiting on the street, Miss Loring. It will be faster if you take it.”

  “Thank you, I will,” Lily said before swiftly following after Basil.

  She would go to Heath’s home first, Lily decided as she hurried down the staircase. And if he wasn’t there, she would search the gentlemen’s clubs next. Or perhaps he might even be with Marcus, still celebrating after this morning’s wedding.

  Heath’s mansion in Bedford Square, Lily discovered a short while later, was elegant and imposing. And the Claybourne butler was even more stately, looking down his haughty nose at her when she identified herself and asked to speak to the marquess.

  Calling at a bachelor’s establishment was rather wanton for a young lady, Lily knew, especially when she wore no veil to help disguise her features. But her urgent tone of voice must have made an impression on the august servant, or perhaps he recognized her name, for he admitted her at once and showed her to a sitting room while he excused himself to go in search of Lord Claybourne.

  Heath appeared moments later, much to Lily’s relief.

  “Thank heavens,” she murmured, aware of how glad she was to see him. He had taken off his coat and cravat but still wore his formal wedding attire.

  His expression was quizzical at first, but it darkened as Lily quickly told him about Fanny’s alleged abduction by O’Rourke.

  “I warned him…” Heath said dangerously, a muscle pulsing in his jaw.

  “Basil has gone to O’Rourke’s club to try and discover her location, but it may be all for naught. Please, Heath, will you help us rescue Fanny?”

  He looked impatient at her request. “Need you even ask?” Abruptly he turned and strode from the room.

  “Where are you going?” Lily said, hurrying after him.

  “To fetch some weapons.”

  “I have a hack waiting.”

  “Good. It will save me the trouble of having my own carriage harnessed. Go wait for me there, Lily.”

  Grateful that he hadn’t hesitated, Lily obeyed and returned to the hack. In a very few moments, Heath appeared. He had donned his coat, although his cravat was still missing. And he carried two small cases that Lily suspected contained pistols, and one long case that looked familiar from her fencing lesson with him.

  Behind him were two strapping footmen who climbed up on the rear perch of the hack.

  “Reinforcements,” Heath said brusquely as he joined Lily inside.

  The small cases did indeed hold pairs of matching pistols, she saw when Heath opened them, but the longer one contained extremely sharp rapiers rather than the buttoned practice foils she had used with him for their bout.

  During the drive to Bond Street, Heath carefully primed and loaded each of the guns. His jaw was set in anger, and he spoke little on the way.

  Lily tried not to let his silence bother her. She couldn’t let herself dwell on Heath’s remoteness when she was so dreadfully worried about Fanny.

  When the hack eventually slowed and came to a halt before a tall brick building that must be O’Rourke’s gaming club, she bestirred herself to say, “I want to come with you.”

  Heath hesitated but then nodded grimly. “Very well, but you will let me take the lead.”

  They had barely descended from the carriage, however, when they heard shouts from the vicinity of the front entrance door. Lily’s heart leapt to see Basil being thrown unceremoniously out of the gaming hell. He tumbled down the short flight of steps to land in a heap on the sidewalk, while the door slammed shut behind him.

  Giving a gasp of alarm, Lily ran to him, but she wasn’t required to help him up. Instead, Basil lunged to his feet, his fists clenched with rage as he glared at the entrance door. He was sporting a bruised eye and a bloody nose, and he was livid.

  He would have rushed back into the club, but Heath clamped a calming hand on his shoulder, preventing him. “Hold there, Eddowes. Pistols can be far more persuasive than fists.”

  Upon seeing the loaded weapon Heath held, Basil let his shoulders sag. “Fanny isn’t there, nor is O’Rourke. But his bloody bruisers wouldn’t say where she was taken.”

  “Perhaps they will tell me,” Heath replied, making for the door.

  Lily followed immediately on his heels. Her friend’s beating had lit the fire of anger inside her, and she was ready to strangle O’Rourke and his minions with her bare hands.

  The door swung open the instant Heath knocked. The large, burly man standing there wore a fierce scowl and had raised his fists threateningly, as if he’d expected Basil to return. But the sight of a pistol pointing directly at his chest made his eyes widen in alarm.

  Glancing back at Lily, Heath withdrew a handkerchief from his coat pocket and handed it to her. “Why don’t you accompany Mr. Eddowes to the carriage?” he advised. “I expect I won’t be long.”

  Then with a lethal smile at the doorman, he gestured with the pistol. The servant backed away carefully, and Heath stepped inside, shutting the door quietly behind him.

  Basil immediately started sputtering in outrage at being denied his revenge. Lily felt like doing the same, yet she wanted more to stop him from charging back inside and suffering even more damag
e to his battered face.

  Telling herself she could trust Heath to handle the matter, she corralled Basil back inside the hack, then climbed in after him. Yet she was still worried for Heath. She hated to think of the danger he might be in, facing those brutes alone, even if he was armed.

  For the next interminable five minutes, Lily kept peering out the carriage window while applying the handkerchief to stop her friend’s nosebleed, alternating between fretting silently and trying to reassure Basil that Lord Claybourne would succeed in discovering where Fanny had been taken.

  Her confidence was soon rewarded. When Heath appeared, he was unscathed. He gave directions to the driver and then settled inside across from Lily and Basil.

  “I persuaded O’Rourke’s lackeys to tell me where he might be found,” Heath explained as the hack moved forward and picked up a rapid pace. “It appears he recently built a private residence in Marylebone, and yesterday sent several of his servants there to ready the house for habitation. He intended to be gone for the next several days.”

  Marylebone was a district just north of London, Lily knew, not too distant from Heath’s own town house.

  “So Fanny is likely being held there?” she asked.

  “That seems a reasonable assumption.”

  “How do we rescue her?” Basil demanded.

  Heath shifted his attention to the younger man. “I would rather you allow me to handle it.”

  Basil’s jaw hardened. “No, my lord, I cannot do that. I could never forgive myself if Fanny came to harm while I stood idly by.” His voice lowered to a rough whisper. “It is bad enough knowing that bastard could have brutalized her by now.”

  “If he has, he will pay for it,” Heath said grimly. “But there is a possibility the dresser mistook what she saw for an abduction.”

  “A slim possibility,” Lily muttered. “It is much more likely that O’Rourke is a true villain.”