A Lady's Luck

by Maggie Dallen

  Henri did a remarkably decent job of looking chastened. Her acting was so good Alistair was tempted to laugh. He squelched it quickly enough as Henri launched into a ludicrous story about how she’d asked him to accompany her so she might help the orphaned poor and the young girls with no options. It seemed she’d come here as part of her charitable duties for the church and its orphanage.

  He stared in disbelief as the admiral nodded and then shook his head, clearly torn between admiration and disbelief. As well he should be. If this man actually believed Henri was simply here for charity, he did not know the woman at all.

  “I’ll be begging you to use more caution in the future, my lady,” the admiral said, giving her that paternal smile again.

  Bloody hell. The old fool believed her.

  Alistair kept his mouth shut as the admiral’s entire demeanor changed from suspicion to applause as he patted him on the shoulder and thanked him for looking out for such an innocent and lovely lady. To his credit, Alistair kept from laughing, but barely. The only thing that kept him sober was the thought of the trouble Henrietta had placed herself in.

  For him.

  She was here for him. They both waited until the admiral and his men had moved on down the road before speaking and when they did, they spoke at once.

  “You bloody fool,” he said, growling.

  “You must be an idiot,” she whispered with a hiss.

  They stood there fuming, his nostrils flaring as he battled for calm. He watched her breasts rise and fall quickly beneath her cloak, belying the cool mask that covered her features. Her eyes were another giveaway. They sparked with anger and irritation.

  “You are angry with me?” He bit out the words, exasperated.

  “Of course.” She kept her voice low, but it didn’t hide her passion. “You could have been arrested.”

  He scoffed. “Me?” he said. “Perhaps you’ve forgotten who I am.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Believe me, Alistair. I know exactly who you are.”

  His chest tightened and some of his anger sputtered in the face of that knowing glare. What did she mean by that? He had a feeling that her words hid a world of meaning…but what? Something deeper and darker—a suspicion he did his best to ignore—surpassed that question and nearly felled him with the stunning realization. She did know him. Whether she knew all of his secrets or not, she knew him.

  He shook off the thought, focusing instead on those lush lips that beckoned him. “What were you doing here tonight?” He asked the question, though he already knew the answer.

  She cast a quick glance over her shoulder to be sure the men were gone before facing him squarely. “Following you.”

  He drew in a deep breath and grasped her shoulders. Yet again, he did not know whether to shake some sense into her or kiss her until she lost all her senses. His body seemed to answer the question of its own volition. He crushed her to him, his mouth claiming hers with a hard, heated kiss that made her gasp. When her lips parted he seized on the opportunity and slid his tongue into her mouth, seeking out her heat and laying claim to her as if she were his.

  Because she was his. He’d known it for ages now, he supposed. His mind might fight it but something in him—something primal and dark—knew she belonged to him. And he to her. The new and sudden knowledge had him pulling back to stare at her, too astonished to speak, but he needed to look into her eyes. He was desperate for that connection for reasons he had yet to fully acknowledge.

  Her eyes blinked back at him, deliciously dazed, her lips pink and swollen from his kiss. She leaned in toward him as if unwilling to part. “If that is your way of saying thank you…” Her low laugh was breathless, and it made his gut clench with need in response.

  He ignored it. “Thank you?” he repeated incredulously.

  “You are welcome,” she murmured, her smile teasing as the glint of mischief and intelligence returned to those sharp eyes. He let out a little growl. The little hellion. Even as he thought it, he couldn’t help but think—my little hellion.

  The plan he’d already put into play seemed like a sign from above. When he’d set out to show the world he was courting her, it had been to hide his misdeeds. No one would think twice at the accusations of a thwarted lover. His little minx could have ranted to the heavens about his improprieties and criminal connections, but everyone would think it was nothing more than a jilted woman’s revenge.

  But now? Well, now the pieces all seemed to fit into place rather neatly, really. He could have everything he wanted—everyone he wanted—while still maintaining his business and his fraternal obligations. Of course, he thought as he studied her alarmingly smug smile in the glow of the lamplight, it would take some finesse and a lot of planning. It would also take some…seduction. This woman would never come willingly into his home or into his bed. She had too much pride and a rather obvious fear of losing control.

  She arched her brows, her smirk never wavering, but caution clouded her gaze. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “Like what?”

  She pursed her lips as she studied him. “Like you are about to eat me whole.”

  He felt his lips twitching with mirth despite everything—despite knowing his whole world had fallen down around his ears at the realization he wanted her. Forever. For keeps. The realization that she did not want him—not yet, at least, flitted through his mind. He marveled at the reality of knowing the woman he wanted as his own was more stubborn and bullheaded than he was—and that she’d nearly gotten herself killed tonight.

  It was the last thought that had him leaning down so their noses nearly brushed. “What were you thinking, coming out to the docks alone like this?”

  She blinked at his proximity. “I was not alone.”

  Rage swept through him, fierce and debilitating. “Who was with you?” What sort of fool accompanied her on an errand such as this?

  She pressed her lips together and his suspicion grew. He had no doubt this woman could cajole any number of young men into doing her bidding. Jealousy and possessiveness warred within him, making it nearly impossible to keep from reaching out and clasping her in his arms once more. This time he would never let go.

  It was quite possible she had read his mind, because she took a half step back and glanced around at the passersby who were either too drunk or too caught up in their own lives to pay them much mind. “The admiral and his men could return at any point and I would rather not have my reputation ruined by being caught kissing a poorly dressed earl down by the docks.”

  She sounded so prim and proper that he nearly laughed. “You think I will ruin you?” He shook his head, temporarily at a loss because wasn’t that exactly what he’d been thinking before, that perhaps he could ruin her and force her into marriage?

  As he wanted to have her for his own, he’d prefer not to be shackled to a woman who wanted to murder him for the rest of his life. Clearly another tactic was called for. He rubbed at his eyes for a moment. Focus, damn it. Now was not the time to be thinking about a seduction. He dropped his hand and scowled at her as he remembered what, exactly, they were arguing about. “You do not have to worry about my ruining your reputation,” he said. “Not when you make a habit of haunting the docks at all hours of the night.”

  She rolled her eyes heavenward as though he were a nagging harpy. “I told you, I was not alone. I had a chaperone.”

  “Who?” he demanded.

  She ignored him as she continued with her own tirade. “Besides, I wouldn’t have been spotted by anyone—the admiral or the derelicts—if I hadn’t had to step in and come to your aid.”

  He opened his mouth to protest. He didn’t need her help. He hadn’t needed it—but he couldn’t quite get the words out. She had helped him quite a bit. Perhaps he would have gotten through this scrape with the law without spending time in prison, but his actions would be watched and his name would be dragged through the mud. He’d lose his position as one of the more respectable members o
f the peerage and become a laughingstock. An arrest could have done as much damage to his family name as if his bastard heritage had been discovered.

  Her smirk was back in full force. “As I said…you’re welcome.”

  He growled again but this time out of desire rather than anger. Lord, but she was beautiful when she was pleased with herself. She was beautiful all the time, but her seductiveness reached dangerous levels when she knew it.

  “So, you were here following me, I take it?” His gaze searched her features, searching for what he did not know. Some clue as to how much she knew or what she’d pieced together, perhaps.

  She nodded. “That’s correct.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “The fact that you don’t even try to deny it is worrisome.”

  She lifted one shoulder in a prosaic shrug. “To you, perhaps. But I do not see the point in prevaricating, not when our cards are on the table.”

  He arched a brow. “And are they on the table? I was under the impression we were still playing our little game, Henri.”

  She gave him a saucy wink. “Come now, Alistair. It is time to come clean.”

  It was her direct gaze, more than her words, that gave him a start. How much did she know? Too much, he guessed, by any count. The sight of some of the admiral’s men backtracking through the streets had him reaching for her elbow, steering her across the street. “I assume that’s your coach?”

  “Indeed.”

  “Let us talk there, shall we?” he asked, as he proceeded to guide her in that direction. “We wouldn’t want the admiral to find us in an even more compromising position, now would we?”

  She arched a brow. “It is not I who need fear the admiral and his men, my lord.”

  It was her use of his honorific that had him scowling down at her. Was it his imagination or had she said it with a hint of mockery? That was it. He needed to know what she knew and protect her from any further danger. With that thought, he nudged her in the direction of the carriage. They narrowly avoided a pair of drunken fools who swayed and sneered, and who would likely have picked their pockets if they hadn’t hurried out of their path. He threw open the door and stopped at the sight of Rodrick sound asleep on one of the seats.

  He looked to Henri and she smiled up at him. “I told you I brought a chaperone.”

  He made a gruff noise. “Yes, I can see how he would be wonderful protection.”

  Her smile grew with amusement and for the millionth time he considered whether to yell at her or kiss her. Lord, but she was frustrating. She tilted her head to the side. “I would love to know what you are thinking right now, my lord.”

  “No,” he said. “You would not.”

  His thoughts had taken a decidedly delicious turn as he’d contemplated exactly how he could keep her safe once she was his. She might be amenable to staying safe at home if she were in his bed.

  She blinked rapidly at whatever she saw in his features, but her smile never faltered. “Oh no, my lord, I most certainly would like to know what could bring this change upon you.”

  He found himself returning her smile, affection and tenderness temporarily distracting him from all the trouble she’d caused and the danger she’d put herself in. “You,” he said softly, lifting one of her gloved hands to his lips. “Only you could have this effect on me.”

  Her eyes widened in surprise, but she did not pull away. They stood like that for the course of several heartbeats, the connection that was always between them growing in strength and thickness until he could do nothing but kiss her. She rose up on her toes to meet his kiss and when she kissed him back with a passion and a need that rivaled his own, he groaned deep in his throat and pulled her tightly to him.

  If Rodrick hadn’t chosen that moment to snore, he wasn’t sure how long he would have kissed her right there in the open doorway to the carriage. As it was, she pulled away, her gaze flickering to the left and right as she avoided his eyes.

  “I don’t believe we were seen by the admiral,” she said.

  He didn’t care if they were, but he knew better than to say so aloud. Not yet, at least. Instead, he helped her into the carriage. Henri sat on the far side of one seat as he sat beside her. They both faced the snoring Rodrick as though they were waiting for him to greet them.

  When he did not, Alistair turned to her. “Henri, this must stop.”

  “I agree,” she said.

  He arched his brows. “You do?”

  Pressing her lips together she nodded. “I do.”

  He waited for her to speak again, afraid to believe his own ears and also…a little terrified she meant it. He wanted her to stop pursuing his secrets, but also, he had the most bizarre urge to share them with her. For the first time since he and Marcus had set their course—his brother faking his own death and Alistair taking over as heir—he was well and truly aware of how alone he was in this prison of his own making.

  He’d spent his entire adulthood steering clear of anyone who might care enough to learn his truths, who might take an interest in his life, his livelihood, and his upbringing. And now, he’d found someone who’d sought that knowledge and he’d done everything in his power to drive her away.

  As if reading his thoughts, she tilted her head to the side. “Thank you for all the flowers, Alistair.” He pressed his lips together, hating himself in that moment for all his former plans. Only the one he’d come up with tonight would suffice.

  The plan that ended with Lady Henrietta Bloomfield as his wife.

  Her eyes grew bright with intelligence. “Might I ask what your intention was with this decidedly blatant display of courtship?”

  He didn’t answer immediately, but it seemed his fierce adversary did not need him to. She leaned back in her seat like a cat—there was even something feline and a bit frightening about her smile. “Do you want to hear what I think?”

  He arched a brow in answer.

  “I believe that perhaps you’d hoped that by making society believe we’re in some sort of entanglement, you could provide some security for yourself should I ever try to spill your secrets.”

  He did not answer. Damn, she knew him too well. She tilted her head to the side. “I don’t expect you to admit to it, but my guess is you’d also thought about the other means by which you could gain the upper hand.” He did not so much as blink, because of course he had.

  She narrowed his eyes. “Were I to harm your reputation you could ruin mine.”

  He knew better than to protest because she was right, of course. It had occurred to him he could spread lies and ruin her if provoked. But now he knew he could never have done it—not even for his brother, and certainly not for himself.

  “I had rather hoped it would not come to that,” he said quietly.

  Her lips quirked up in amusement. “I hope not as well. I rather like being welcome in society. But…” She left off with a shrug and a little moue with her lips as if to say she would not be too distressed were she not welcome either.

  He let out a humorless laugh. “I should have known that a little threat like being ruined would not deter you.”

  She grinned, the sudden flash of teeth a surprising jolt to his chest. “Indeed, you should have. I thought you knew me better than that.”

  He shifted until scant inches separated them. “I’d like to know you that well.” He noted her surprise and relished it. “I’d like to know you better than anyone else.”

  Her gaze narrowed as she leaned in closer. “Now what are you playing at, Alistair?”

  He reached out and tugged gently at one of those perfectly coiled blonde locks. “I never play, Henri. I thought you knew that about me.”

  “So this trip to the docks was all for business then,” she said.

  He arched a brow in surprise at the sudden shift in conversation. “Are you trying to trick me into revealing my secrets?”

  She lifted one shoulder and at the same time one corner of her mouth hitched up in amusement. “You might not play games, Alist
air, but that does not mean I cannot have my fun.”

  He leaned back in his seat to consider her. “What is it you want to hear?”

  She shifted to face him better. “How about the truth? After all, I did save your hide back there. I think I deserve to know why.”

  He toyed with the idea. He shouldn’t, but he did. Once again the thought of sharing his deepest, darkest secrets held some sort of appeal. “How about you tell me what you think you know.”

  She arched a brow. “Now where is the fun in that?”

  He grinned, despite the fact that his insides felt as coiled as her hair. Was he really doing this? “I will tell you if your suspicions are correct.”

  She blinked. “You won’t.”

  “I will.”

  Tilting her head to the side she studied him. “And what do you expect in return?”

  Smart girl. He turned and leaned forward until he was in her space, her scent threatening to cloud his senses. Hell, she’d already muddled his senses, that much was abundantly clear. “In return for the truth, I have a condition of my own.”

  Chapter Nine

  Henri narrowed her gaze. “And what condition would that be?”

  “You’d have to wait and see,” he said. He did not crack a smile, but she could tell he was pleased with himself.

  He had her and he knew it. It was a gamble. A bet. One in which she did not know the full extent of the wager and ought therefore to walk away. As much as she might wish to, she could not. Her curiosity would not let her. Her curiosity now extended to whatever condition he might put forth.

  “What do you say?” he asked.

  She pursed her lips, struggling with the answer, though she knew it was inevitable. Alistair did not speak. His gaze was suddenly inscrutable and for quite possibly the first time in her life, Henri was nervous.

  Was this excitement that had her belly fluttering and her breath quickening? She hadn’t been lying before. She lived to play games. It was how she saw the world—a series of chess moves, a constant battle between winners and losers. She was playing that game now, yes, of course she was. But now she was also playing with fire. She cast a quick glance over at her still sleeping brother and then leapt into the flames before she could hesitate any further. “Your brother is not dead.”