A Woman Made for Pleasure (10 page)
Then the next week his heart failed, and all three gifts were left in the attic, with everything else they held precious. Until Millie found them as she was packing to leave for London. She fingered the pendant she had been wearing almost every night. It felt good to hold his memory close. No longer did the loss feel so intense, and Millie suspected he was out there somewhere, quite pleased with his Daring Three.
“Relax, J,” Millie instructed, using their secret childhood designation. “Come this way. The path is fairly well lit and I can hear music. If we are lucky we are not too late for the fireworks show.”
“Did you say fireworks?” Jennelle asked with sudden interest.
“I did,” Millie replied with a knowing smile. Her friend was finally mentally—and not just physically—committed to their outing. Several years ago, Jennelle had read a couple of articles on fireworks and convinced the Three to create some themselves. Explosions had happened, but not quite in the sky. Afterward, Aimee’s father banished any and all fireworks on his premises. The Daring Three’s entreaties to try again had fallen on deaf ears. And though their mishap terminated any further personal experiments, it had not ended Jennelle’s interest in the lively diversion.
Jennelle righted her shoulders and waved her hand. “Then let us not dally, M. Lead on!”
In the shadows, a man with wavy, dark blond hair watched as the three women ventured farther into the Gardens. He decided to remain hidden and wait.
He prided himself on the forethought to hide and follow them after they had emerged from their home earlier. If he had not, it was doubtful he would have recognized any of them behind their masks and their bold garments. Definitely old-fashioned, but at the same time, very appropriate for tonight’s hedonistic theme at Vauxhall.
He had hired a hackney to follow their unmarked carriage, and then stealthily entered the Gardens, waiting for the right time to approach. Soon Mildred Aldon would be alone. Until then he would be patient. It would be an hour or so until the fireworks, and the comments from the scholarly redhead made it clear that none of them would leave before they had seen the display.
“Lady Aldon, we meet again.”
Millie’s pulse began to race. She whirled around to see a man emerge from the shadows wearing a common dandy’s outfit and a plain mask. Lord Marston obviously intended to be recognized. What was disturbing was that he knew her identity as well. She thought that nearly impossible.
Millie rallied herself and responded. “Pardon, my lord? I think you have me confused with someone else. I do not believe I know a Lady Alstan.”
Marston smiled at her intentional mispronunciation. “Ah, well, then my apologies, madam. However, I must say you look delectable this evening . . . my lovely nameless one.”
His comments and tone of voice were unnerving, and Millie wished she had not left Jennelle’s and Aimee’s side to get a better view of the tightrope walkers. “You are forgiven. Now I must get back to my friends, my lord.”
Marston’s blond eyebrows shot up as he moved to block her way. “Leaving so soon? One would think you were running to find the arms of another . . . say, the Marquess of Chaselton.”
Millie fought to avoid revealing any visible proof of her heavily beating heart. “The Marquess of Chaselton . . . why would you think I was going to meet with him?”
The lips below the scant mask smiled into a disingenuous smirk. “Only that many women this Season seem to be drawn to the man. For instance, the lady I had originally believed you to be—Lady Aldon—is extremely interested in the marquess.”
Again flustered, Millie opened and then closed her mouth, searching for something to say. But even when she found her voice, she found it difficult to speak. “I think you misinterpret Lord Chaselton’s . . . relationships. I, for one, have long been in acquaintance with the lord. But I can promise you that I am not
drawn
toward him. Rather the opposite, as we often find ourselves taking the opposing sides of an issue.”
drawn
toward him. Rather the opposite, as we often find ourselves taking the opposing sides of an issue.”
“How a gentleman would ever consider differing with a woman of your startling beauty is a great mystery.”
Millie tightened the grasp on her fan. “I mean every word. Lord Chaselton and I usually bicker regarding my inclinations. He is not one for any type of sport that provides for levity or amusement.” As soon as the words escaped her lips, she rebuked herself. Lord Marston could no longer have any doubt with whom he was speaking.
Marston leaned in closer and lowered his voice. “My lady, if you desire companionship during these, um, inclinations, I would be delighted to take on the duties of a friend who encourages and supports your enthusiasms, rather than hinders them.”
Marston’s quick and abrupt interest made Millie uncomfortable. However, she was even more intrigued to understand the true cause of his curiosity and decided to stay. “Have you ever considered that you lavish your charm on a person rather profusely? Especially on someone you have never met?”
Marston smiled at Millie’s attempt to continue her facade. “I must confess, the possibility seems rather improbable. Most women desire men to impart a constant barrage of compliments about them. You, however, are unquestionably not most women. A lapse in my judgment that shall not happen again.”
His unsettling voice and close presence made Millie remember her initial impression of Lord Marston. She had been incredibly naïve. Marston had lured her here, for this very evening. She had fallen for his light banter and inducements for adventure, like a fool. The man had specific motives for introducing himself and drawing her to Vauxhall. Millie wanted to know why.
“You suppose a great deal, my lord. Our encounter tonight was a bizarre happenstance. I doubt there will be another time when we shall meet again,” she said deprecatingly. Millie hoped he understood that she was aware of his games, and was not going to naïvely participate in them any longer.
Millie saw his jaw clench. Marston moved in closer and spoke softly. “I shall not need another time, my lady. I only need tonight. You see, you have . . .”
Suddenly Millie’s arm was yanked by a very strong grip. “Excuse me, but this lady came with me.”
The very tall man began hauling her away, and Marston, doing nothing to stop him, quickly retreated without a word. At that moment true fear engulfed her and as she was about to retaliate, Millie found herself without her mask, looking up at a very angry Charles Wentworth. He had brought his face within inches of hers so that she had no trouble seeing just how blazingly furious he was.
Chase knew only sheer luck had enabled him to save her this evening. Learning the Daring Three had elected to avoid the night’s events, Chase had disentangled himself from the Octopus—his new endearment for Selena Hall—and returned home to work on some communiqués and try again to locate Lord Eischel. He was surprised to be interrupted by a footman who asked if he still wanted the unmarked chaise to be made ready, or if he would prefer to use the Wentworth carriage.
Chase had been about to dismiss both vehicles when he sensed a Mildred Aldon plan brewing and lay in wait to see what and where the Three were going. After one look at their outfits, he knew their destination: Vauxhall. Nowhere else in London could masked women dress as though they were extremely high-class French demimondes.
He had quickly located his own mask, donned his jacket, and rushed to prevent his sister and her friends from getting caught in their latest foolish adventure. He arrived later than he had anticipated, and the crowd was growing. If he had not seen their dresses, they would have been impossible to find, let alone discern their identities. He hated to admit it, but their outfits were rather ingenious and their masks very concealing.
“You little fool,” he hissed.
“Chase! How did you know we were here?”
“I saw you leave Hembree Grove. Of all the half-brained, rash things you have tried, Mildred Aldon, this has to be the most reckless. Do you know what would happen if someone actually
recognized
you dressed like that?”
recognized
you dressed like that?”
Millie barely suppressed a scathing retort about that being impossible when she remembered someone
had
recognized her—Lord Marston. Millie pursed her lips and decided it was not the ideal time to impart that piece of information. “We were just preparing to leave. Jennelle wanted to see the fireworks.”
had
recognized her—Lord Marston. Millie pursed her lips and decided it was not the ideal time to impart that piece of information. “We were just preparing to leave. Jennelle wanted to see the fireworks.”
“Don’t try that with me, Mildred.” His gravel-toned voice brooked no disobedience.
Millie swallowed. He had used her given name, and she should be bristling with indignation. Instead, powerful emotions threatened to take over. Their mysterious connection had again flared to life, and suddenly Millie was intensely aware of him as a man. His lean, solid body, the strength of his hands, his masculine scent—all contributed to the unfamiliar feminine urges being aroused under his golden gaze.
Millie slanted him a defiant glance and reminded herself how much she hated his male arrogance. “I would appreciate it if you would stop using my full name,” Millie admonished and started to back away, puzzled as to why she all of a sudden found his arrogance to be appealing.
Chase clamped a hand over her wrist, eliminating any further retreat. “Right now, I’ll call you whatever I damn well please. In fact, I’m half inclined to place you over my knee.”
Millie managed a polite smile as cold anger flared to life. “Try it, Charlie Wentworth, and you’ll regret it. My fighting abilities have significantly improved since you stopped your instructions. And if you continue to provoke me, I’ll be inclined to give you a lesson,” she warned, struggling to keep her voice low.
“Your threats affect me less today than when you were a child, Mildred. And if you think you can palm off Jennelle as the cause and instigator for tonight’s foray into potential disaster, think again. And after seeing you alone with a man, cozying up to him, do not think you can persuade me that you were preparing to leave!”
Millie gave him her most wintry smile. “My, that’s quite a lot of thinking you have me doing when I have only a
half a brain
.”
half a brain
.”
“And I am not sure even that half is working, with what I just witnessed.”
Millie’s eyes popped open in defense. “And just what did you just witness? Some man cornered me and asked me a few questions. It is not as if he accosted me, swung me into a dark path, ripped off my mask, and started berating me. Now, if a man did something like
that
, I could understand why you would be upset if I did nothing about it.”
that
, I could understand why you would be upset if I did nothing about it.”
Chase took a deep breath and raked his fingers through his hair. “You could try a saint.”
“You practically are one, with all of your holier-than-thou attitudes, opinions, and most of all . . .”
Millie did not have a chance to complete her sentence when Chase manhandled her again without warning. Suddenly she was pressed tight against his chest, his mouth capturing hers in a searing kiss that made her body yield in submission. Only temporarily stunned, Millie was about to fight back when she heard nearby voices talking . . . about her.
“Come along, darling. This man is experiencing the pleasures of his lady’s lips. I want to experience yours.”
Millie felt relief when the overly sultry voice faded away as the couple rounded a hedge farther down the path. Then alarm shot through her. Chase was not ending the kiss.
At first, Chase had pulled her into an embrace to protect her. Crushing her lips with his own, he had not expected nor wanted her to respond. The kiss was hard and commanding, in retribution for all the trouble she had caused him. But when her lips trembled, and he felt the shiver of fear that went through her entire body as the couple went by, a surge of desire swept over him.
The kiss changed from one of retribution to one of passion. Somewhere in his mind, Chase knew he should stop. But he could not summon the will to ease her away. Not yet. Cradling her face in his hands, he deepened the embrace, kissing her slowly, thoroughly, knowing no man had ever kissed her this way before. Never had the touch of soft lips so quickly and fully aroused him.
He brushed his lips lightly, persuasively, across hers, encouraging her mouth to open. The moment her lips parted, his tongue surged inside in an act of possession that excited her more than any daring escapade she could have conjured.
Millie moaned softly as her hands clung to his shoulders as a whirlpool of deep, feminine curiosity started swirling within her. Her throat constricted with desire. She felt alive in a way she never had before, and she wanted more—needed more. This was an adventure her body demanded she not end too soon.
Feeling her arms steal slowly up around his neck, a sense of triumph washed through Chase. His dream lover was real, and she wanted him with a passion that equaled his own. Heightened desire shuddered through Chase, and his already aroused body tightened even more with fierce, compelling need.
Never had he wanted a woman as much as he wanted Millie. She was a firebrand, a constant whirl of energy, a blinding beam of light in his otherwise orderly world.
And then he remembered.
His world was a dark, dangerous place, and every day it became only more perilous as he learned about the men that his father had called friends. The honest passion he was finding with Millie was everything he had ever dreamed of having, but he could not do this. Not now. Maybe not ever.
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