Kiss the Wallflower: Books 4-6

by Gill, Tamara

  "I have not forgotten, my lord," she managed, ignoring the nervous wabble in her voice.

  He smiled and came to stand beside her. Lord Bridgman was not far behind his friend, and he soon swooped Julia into his arms and out onto the dance floor for a Scottish reel.

  "I knew it was you the moment I came into the room. I think I could pick you out of a crowd anywhere."

  Elizabeth chuckled, shaking her head. "Really, my lord? Is my costume so very bad to pick me out of a crowd so easily?"

  He reached out, picking up a loose curl and sliding it through his fingers. Her heart stilled, her mind imagining his hands caressing other parts of her just so.

  "Your hair, you see. Such a beautiful, rich red, makes one want to run their fingers through it to see if it singes one's skin."

  Elizabeth couldn't form words. No one had ever said her hair was lovely. And yet the way Lord Hastings was looking at her right at this moment, she could almost believe he was earnest.

  "You're in Scotland. There are many of us with such colored hair. I think you're flirting with me, my lord." And she loved that he was. Never before had anyone shown her such interest. The gentlemen who visited her childhood home, Moy Castle, always were wary of her brother's presence. The laird's sister was someone to be polite to, but never look at beyond friendship.

  Her brother had a way of scaring off most suitors if he thought they were too forward. Her time in London had been tarnished by the nickname she coined. Men stayed away from her for fear of being married off to the women who flocked to her side. She had been glad when she returned home to Moy.

  "Perhaps I am. Would it be so bad if I was?"

  His eyes twinkled behind his black mask, watching, taking in her every word, her every reaction to him. He was enthralling, made her want things she'd never thought she did before. His lips lifted into a knowing smile, and she had the overwhelming desire to touch her lips to his. To see for herself if his lips were as soft as they appeared.

  She inwardly sighed, knowing he would be an excellent kisser. Along with that thought was the disturbing one that other women had enjoyed being in his arms. Women he'd seduced just as he was trying to seduce her. Vixens all.

  "It may not be so bad, even if you are English."

  He clasped his chest in wounded dramatics. "Do not injure me, Lady Elizabeth. I shall never survive the pain of your rejection."

  The strains of a waltz sounded, and she set down her glass of champagne, reaching for Lord Hasting's hand. "Time to dance, my lord. Ye can flatter me on the ballroom floor."

  Chapter 6

  Sebastian smiled, clasped Lady Elizabeth's hand tight as he led her out onto the floor. He pulled her into his arms, holding her close and losing himself in her bright, green eyes. When she wanted to be, she could be quite amusing, more than he thought she would be after their first meeting.

  Her hand fit snugly in his, her body perfectly aligned to his height. Dancing with her for the first time made him realize she was quite the perfect height. The idea of seeing her long legs, untying her silk stockings, and sliding them off her satin skin, had him taking a deep, calming breath.

  "You mentioned that we're now neighbors, my lord. Have you had Bragdon Manor for long, or is it a recent acquirement?"

  "Two years or so. It was the property my brother left me after his death. I should not be the Earl Hastings, you see. I was the second son." Sebastian stopped himself from saying more or revealing that his brother had wanted him to have Bragdon Manor that sat beside Halligale, the estate that Lady Elizabeth now owned.

  "Yer brother sounds like a good man to give ye such an impressive estate. I've always admired Bragdon Manor. I would like to see it one day if ye would not mind a visitor."

  "I would not mind at all." He pulled her into a quick spin, laughing when she chuckled at his antics. "Tell me, Lady Elizabeth. You say that your brother gave you Halligale. Was the estate always in your family?" he queried, trying to find out how much she knew of the acquirement of the estate.

  She shook her head, staring over his shoulder in thought before her eyes met his. "No, it is a new property my brother purchased two years or so ago, I believe. I do adore it, however. Two centuries ago, it was my great-great-grandmother's home on my mother's side. It is nice to have it back in the family."

  "Really?" Sebastian said, having not known that tidbit of information. So both he and Elizabeth had an emotional connection to the estate. It made what he was trying to do, ensure a marriage between them, somewhat less brutal, considering he did not love the woman in his arms. That they both loved the estate tempered his guilt to a point. The house should be both of theirs, a home they both should be able to enjoy, not just Elizabeth.

  "Did your brother purchase the estate?"

  She bit her lip, and he had the distinct impression she was trying to think of something to say other than the truth. "He acquired it when in London, I believe. I do not know the particulars." She met his gaze, studying him a moment. "You're much interested in Halligale, my lord. Why?" she asked bluntly, taking him off guard.

  He shook his head, looking beyond her shoulder to watch the dancers about them. "I'm merely curious about my neighbors, that is all." He did not say anything further for fear of saying something that may cause her to suspect him. To win her affections, he needed to be everything she wanted in a husband—caring, flirtatious, enamored. If she found out his sole reason for marrying her was to gain back his childhood home, she would run for the Highlands, and he'd never see her again.

  "Perhaps when I visit Bragdon Manor, you may come and see me at Halligale, and your curiosity regarding the estate will be sated." Her fingers slid closer to his nape, and heat licked his skin. The music wound around them, and he took his eyes off the other dancers, turning his attention back to her. She would be a sweet bride to win, and it would be no trouble having her in his bed. He'd enjoy her beneath him, on top of him, before him…

  Sebastian swallowed. "You're staring at me, Lady Elizabeth. Do I offend you in some way?" he asked, needing to rein in his wayward thoughts.

  "I'm just curious, that is all. Yer are one of the most talked-about gentlemen in Scotland this year. So many are pleased ye have joined our small set of society and are partaking in the Season here. I merely wish to know what would bring an earl, an eligible peer many young debutantes would like to dance with, all the way to Scotland. It is out of the ordinary, I must say."

  "Do not tell me that you want me to leave, my lady. Are you so sick of me already?" He was teasing her, but the questions regarding his motivations were strictly off-limits. She did not need to know anything, and if he was careful, she never would.

  "I do not know you well enough to know if I wish for you to leave or not, but it is nice having more than our usual set in town."

  "It is pleasant being here," he returned, spinning her to a stop as the waltz came to an end. He walked her back to where Lady Julia stood speaking with Lady Georgina. Sebastian bent over Lady Elizabeth's hand, kissing it. "I look forward to dancing with you again soon," he said, turning to search out Rawden.

  As much as he would like, he could not spend the entire night with Lady Elizabeth in his arms. He would play the appropriate gentleman and dance with others, but he would seek her out in the later hours. To win one's heart, one must be determined, or so he'd heard matrons of the ton tell their charges the few times he'd bothered listening in on their conversations.

  He spied Rawden drinking whisky near the terrace doors. Joining him, he procured his own glass of wine from a passing footman. "The ball is going well. How is your chasing of Lady Julia going? You seem quite enamored of her."

  Rawden grinned, saluting with his drink. "Very well, thank you. I may even steal a kiss later this evening if I can maneuver her into the gardens."

  "Hmm, I wish you well with that." The idea did have merit, and he glanced back to where he'd left Lady Elizabeth, thinking of trying a similar move. Would she be a willing participant in a kiss? If
he wished to marry her, he ought to find out if there was any sexual awakening on his part when he kissed her. Certainly, each time he touched her, he was loath to set her aside. A marriage by his estimation would work between them.

  "You ought to try it yourself, Hastings. From what I hear, Lady Elizabeth is quite the catch in Scotland, no matter her disastrous Season in London. Did you know that her sister-in-law is the sister to Marchioness Graham and sister to Mr. Stephen Grant, who married Lady Clara Quinton, the Duke of Law's only daughter?"

  Sebastian frowned, having quite forgotten the connections Lady Elizabeth had to high society in England. All the more reason she and her extended family never found out why he wished to marry her. Not until the deed was done, at least. They would loathe him for all eternity, tricking their Elizabeth into being his wife, but that wouldn't matter to him, not once he owned Halligale again.

  "I had forgotten, you're right."

  "Are you still going to continue on with your plan? The moment he finds out that you are courting his sister, her brother is sure to put a stop to it. He will see straight through your interest for what it is. A means of getting back the property he won from your brother at cards. I would suggest, as your friend," Rawden said, crossing his heart with his hand, "to give up the chase. For as much as she's beautiful, witty, and eligible, you will only cause her pain if you trick her into marriage."

  Sebastian frowned, turning to Rawden. "Whose side are you on? Are you not supposed to be my friend? Have my back?"

  Rawden glared back in turn. "I am your friend, and that is why I caution you on this. If you stop, no one will be hurt, and no Scottish lairds will be out for English blood."

  He shrugged. "I like a good sword fight every now and then, and Mackintosh's underhanded ways of winning Halligale from my brother need attending to in any case. I may have to ensure there is no way of her refusing me. I shall have Halligale back then."

  Rawden gaped. "You would ruin her to get your way?"

  "Others have done it before me." Sebastian looked back to where Elizabeth stood, smiling with her friends, her lips a deep, rosy red that made his blood pump fast in his veins. No, he could not ruin her to get his own way, no matter how much easier that path would be. He wanted her to choose him because she wanted him above anyone else. Not because he had seduced her and they were caught.

  "Do stop glaring at me, Rawden. I shall not seduce her. Disregard my earlier comment. I was an ass."

  Seemingly satisfied, Rawden nodded, changing the subject to the events that awaited them in Edinburgh on their return. "So from all accounts, we're quite the popular gentlemen this year."

  "I had heard," Sebastian said, spying Lady Elizabeth and her friend Lady Julia slipping from the ball through the terrace doors. "Come, we'll gain some fresh Scottish air. The night is surprisingly warm, and it will revitalize us for the late night we're to have."

  Rawden agreed, and they walked from the room, stepping out onto the large, stone terrace that overlooked the grounds. There were just as many people out on the terrace as there seemed to be indoors. It made it almost impossible to spy where his quarry had disappeared to.

  "She came outside, did she not?" Rawden asked, his tone bored.

  "Yes." Sebastian chuckled, pushing ahead. "Come, she left with Lady Julia. Mayhap you can persuade her to dance with you and give me additional time with Lady Elizabeth."

  Rawden sighed. "If we must. Lead on."

  Chapter 7

  It took Sebastian several minutes to find Lady Elizabeth and Lady Julia, but eventually he spotted them out on the manicured lawn. Lit lanterns hung from tree to tree, lighting the space. She was talking to a tall Scotsman, and when she reached up, kissing the man's cheeks, a spike of jealous rage tore through him.

  Who was this bastard who dared touch her? The man hugged her back, smiling broadly.

  Shit, she has a beau?

  She turned and spotted him, and her smile widened. "Lord Hastings. Lord Bridgman." She gestured for them to join them. He did so, ignoring the fact his face would not mold into a smile. It seemed stuck at a glower.

  "This is an old family friend, Angus, Laird Campbell. He is my brother's best friend since childhood." The fellow clasped Elizabeth's hand, placing it on his arm. He nodded to Sebastian.

  "’Tis a pleasure to meet ye, Lord Hastings. I hope ye have been having a lovely time in Scotland."

  Sebastian studied them both, wondering if there was something between them that he was not aware of. Had the man traveled here to be near Elizabeth? To spend time with her away from the madness that was Edinburgh's Season? Did their friendship go beyond platonic?

  "We are, thank you. It has been most enjoyable."

  The man smiled between them, and for an awkward moment, Sebastian wasn't sure what to say. How to bridge the silence.

  Elizabeth gestured to him. "Lord Hastings is going to be my neighbor, Angus. Since meeting his lordship, I have found out that he owns Bragdon Manor beside Halligale. We shall see him often, I think."

  "Oh, ’tis a fine estate that one," Laird Campbell said. "When Elizabeth's brother, Laird Mackintosh, came into the estate next to the one ye own, we viewed the property from the boundary. But I imagine ye have others in England?"

  "I do, yes, two in fact. Wellsworth Abbey near Netherfield, Nottinghamshire, and a townhouse in London on Grosvenor Square." Not that he would see either of those estates for several months, not if he wished to win the woman currently holding and smiling up at Laird Campbell with something akin to adoration.

  Sebastian disliked seeing her so attached to another, and he couldn't fully explain as to why. He knew he wanted her to be his wife. He had to gain back his childhood home, the house where his mother had been born and raised, where he had spent so much time as a boy with his brother before life, and vice, changed him forever. And not for the better.

  But why was he feeling so uncomfortable, so annoyed at her holding the laird’s arm? He wasn't the jealous type. Seeing a woman he thought to court, or one he may have been seeking out had never before raised such ire, such annoyance in him.

  Sebastian swallowed, running a hand through his hair. He looked back to her and found her watching him, a curious light in her eyes.

  "Lady Julia, will you dance with me?" he absently heard Rawden ask, having forgotten his friend altogether. She agreed and left the three of them alone.

  Just as he was about to leave, Laird Campbell waved and hollered to a gentleman behind Sebastian. "I do apologize, but I will leave ye now. I will meet you indoors, Elizabeth, and we shall have our dance."

  Sebastian nodded his farewell as the man brushed past him, leaving them alone. At last, he had Elizabeth to himself.

  "You are fond of the Laird Campbell. I hope I am not keeping you from him."

  She raised her chin. The action accentuated her lush lips, still glistening with rouge. "Not at all, my lord. I have known Angus since I was a child. He's more like a brother to me than anything else."

  Relief poured through him. She was not lost to him, not yet at least. Not unless she refused his suit and his offer of marriage that he would bestow on her when the time was right. "The gardens are most beautiful this evening. Would you care to stroll about them?"

  "If you like," she said, moving off.

  Sebastian followed, quickly coming up to amble beside her. "What a shame we're for home tomorrow. I would have liked to have seen more of this grand estate. I do not think I've seen anything more beautiful in all my travels to Scotland."

  Lady Elizabeth glanced at the home, towering behind them. "It is picturesque and distinctive. Georgina, Lady Dalton, inherited it after the death of her husband. She loves it, of course, but ye have not seen anything so beautiful until ye have seen my brother's estate and my childhood home, Moy Castle."

  "Is the house as grand?" he asked, wanting to keep her talking with him for as long as he could.

  "’Tis a castle, with turrets and numerous halls, a great hall that we still use freq
uently today and a loch of course. No Scottish estate is complete without a loch."

  He chuckled. "I couldn't agree more. I hope to see it one day."

  She met his eyes and held his attention. For the life of him, Sebastian could not look away. Somehow in the time they had been strolling, they had walked down an abandoned garden path, placing them out of view of the house and terrace.

  Music drifted through the trees, and even though no lanterns hung here, he could still make out Elizabeth's pretty face from the moonlight above. She stopped, turning to face him before she reached up and pulled off her mask.

  "Ah, that is better. ’Tis so hot under these things."

  He ripped his own mask off, glad to be free of it. "I prefer to see you just as you are in any case." He took a step closer to her. "Do you know how stunning you are, Lady Elizabeth?"

  She raised one brow, and he could see she was skeptical of his words.

  "You do not believe me?"

  One shoulder lifted in a delicate shrug. "I have not been the most sought-after lady in either England or Scotland. Do ye not see why I would be wary of such flattery?"

  "Because of the name you were called in town. Lucky Lizzie, wasn't it?"

  She flinched at the reminder. "It is partly because of that, but also that I have not known ye for long and ye may flatter every woman ye meet in such a way. I am no one special."

  He reached out, unable not to feel her. Sebastian ran his finger across her jaw, tipping up her face to look at him. "You are wrong. So wrong. I think you're lovely." He did not know where the words were coming from. All he did know was that they were true. She was unlike any of the simpering fools who followed his coattails in London, hoping for a match. That she was cautious of him, not swayed by his pretty words, meant more to him than he thought they would.

  She was different, and he was different when around her. The realization was humbling and telling simultaneously, and he needed to mull on that before their paths crossed again.