An Earl to Enchant (22 page)

Desire for her shone in his eyes, and it elated her. He hadn’t been able to forget her either. She felt the tremble of wanting in his touch. His longing for her had not been sated any more than hers had been for him. What he had done for her when they were up on the coast that night only made her ache for more.

As he lowered his head and closed his eyes, Arianna heard his intake of breath. His breath fanned her face, and his lips touched hers with a kiss that was possessive yet cherishing. Soothing warmth flooded her. She had wanted this, too.

She relaxed and leaned into him. His lips pressed hers harder and became more demanding. With natural ease, her mouth opened, and his tongue slipped inside, tasting her briefly before kissing his way down her neck.

“Mmm, I’ve missed you,” he murmured and breathed in deeply, kissing the crook of her neck and then over to the hollow of her throat. “I’ve missed you, Arianna,” he whispered a second time. “I haven’t been able to get thoughts of you, the taste of you, or the smell of you out of my mind.”

Morgan’s words sent a shimmering thrill spiraling through her.

He had missed her!

“I consider that a good thing, my lord,” she whispered and rained kisses on his cheek, over his jawline, and down his firm neck.

A hunger she couldn’t control clawed inside her, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. His arms circled her back and caught her up tight against his chest. His tongue probed her mouth, and his lips searched wantonly over hers. His hand slid up past her waist to cover, cup, and caress her breast.

Arianna sighed. Immense pleasure coated her like a warm blanket, and she gave herself up to the wonderful sensations exploding inside her.

But as she tried to get closer to him, suddenly Morgan stepped away from her.

Arianna blinked rapidly, feeling rebuffed and confused.

“Damnation,” he whispered under his raspy breath. “I don’t know why I can’t control my passions when I’m with you, Arianna. I think to take one little kiss, and before I know it, I’m ravishing you.”

She swallowed hard and said, “I don’t feel ravished. I don’t feel violated, Morgan. And I don’t know why I continue to let you trample on my affection for you.”

“Arianna, the only thing I can offer you is desire. You are a lady and deserving of more from a man than his passion.”

“I haven’t asked for anything more than passion from you.”

He advanced on her. “You really want me to make you my lover?”

No, I want you to love me!

“
Bapre
, Morgan!”

He frowned. “What does
bapre
mean?”

A hesitant laugh blew past her lips, and she shook her head. “It’s a curse. Not a bad one, but swearing nonetheless.”

“I thought so.”

“I am almost twenty-eight years old with no prospect of marriage any time soon. What does it matter whether or not I remain a maiden at my age?”

“You know it matters to me.”

She didn’t know exactly why, but anger suddenly welled up inside her. “Yes, I do know. You have made me aware of that time and time again. Now, let me make you aware of this, Morgan: do not ever kiss me again unless you intend to follow through with your kisses and make me your lover. I don’t want any more of your kisses that lead nowhere. Now excuse me. I have work to do. I’ll send Mrs. Hartford to show you out.”

***

Her words stung.

Hours later, Morgan was still feeling the effects of her parting words. Feeling out of sorts with himself and not knowing what to do about it. Late in the evening, Morgan decided to dress and go to Lady Windham’s party. He handed off his coat, hat, and gloves to the servant at the countess’s door and went in search of a pretty miss he could ask for a dance. The best way to get Arianna off his mind was to replace thoughts of her with an equally beautiful and charming lady. And at Lady Windham’s party, that shouldn’t be too difficult to do. She was known for always having the cream of Society at her affairs.

When he had first arrived in London a few days ago, he’d thought about calling on Miss Goodbody, but for reasons he didn’t even try to comprehend, he had no desire to reacquaint himself with her or any other paid woman. For reasons that only his body knew, he couldn’t seem to think about touching, tasting, or even kissing anyone but Arianna. He hoped to put a stop to that kind of thinking tonight.

Perhaps some new lady had arrived in Town while he’d been away, he thought and looked at the crush of people filling the house. If not, surely there would be a charming lady he could talk to and dance with to put him in a better frame of mind than his present one. He refused to believe that only Arianna could enchant him.

And there was also the chance that he might meet the twins his cousins had told him about. He’d really like the opportunity to see them and decide for himself if he thought they looked just like Gibby. Perhaps Constance and his cousins had simply fallen victim to the gossip gadding about Town.

Morgan saw Constance standing on the far side of the crowded room and started toward her. Now there was a woman whose company he could certainly enjoy. As he waded through elegantly dressed ladies and fashionably suited gentlemen, his gaze strayed to the dance floor. Suddenly he stopped. Was that Arianna on the dance floor, dressed in that flowing alabaster-colored gown with an indecently low neckline? And who the devil was she dancing with? He’d never seen that lad before. He couldn’t be more than twenty if he was a day. What was she doing dancing with someone so young at her age? What the devil was she doing dancing anyway? She’d been ill with a fever for weeks. If she became overly tired, she could have a relapse. He remembered she had looked a little peaked when he saw her at her house earlier in the day. It was well after one o’clock in the morning. She should be in bed, reading the book he had given her, not twirling under some young blade’s arm and laughing at his inane jokes.

He’d have a word with Constance. What was that woman thinking to drag Arianna to balls and keep her out to all hours of the night? Constance knew how ill she’d been.

Morgan swiped a glass of wine from the tray of a server passing him. He picked his way through the noisy, bustling crowd, ignoring friendly smiles, bumping shoulders, and sidestepping groups that had gathered to chat, until he finally made it to where Constance stood. She was trying her best to get away from Lord Snellingly. Any other time, Morgan would never approach anyone if that man was nearby. He was a fop of the highest order and could irritate the wool off a lamb with his incessant talk of poetry.

“Good evening, Constance, Snellingly,” Morgan said, walking up to them and trying his best to hide his growing irritation.

Constance greeted him with a grateful smile and hello, as did Snellingly, who immediately sniffed into his lace handkerchief after speaking. The man had so many ruffles on the cuffs of his sleeves, his hands were completely hidden by the frills.

“You look lovely tonight, Constance,” Morgan said, though he had hardly even looked at her. He had eyes for no one but Arianna.

“Thank you, my lord. I’m surprised to see you here. When last we spoke, you planned to stay all winter in Dorset.”

“Yes, that was my plan, but a business matter brought me back to Town.”

“Morgandale,” Lord Snellingly said, “you are just the person I wanted to see.”

Bloody hell!

Morgan grimaced and mumbled, “That can’t be good.”

Snellingly lifted his chin a little higher, which must have been difficult to do, considering his collar and neckcloth were already so ridiculously high on his neck he looked like a baby bird trying to see over his nest.

“I beg your pardon; I didn’t understand you.”

Morgan cleared his throat. “I said then it’s good that I walked up.”

Snellingly smiled. “Oh, right. I was hoping I might be able to persuade you to join me and a small group of other friends tomorrow evening at my home for some poetry readings. I was just trying to talk Mrs. Pepperfield into joining us, too.”

Morgan scowled at Constance and then turned to the earl and said, “I’m certain I can’t, Snellingly, I’m otherwise committed. Perhaps another time. Would you excuse us? I need a private word with Mrs. Pepperfield about Miss Sweet.”

“So you’ve met her, too,” Snellingly said. He let his eyes flutter between open and closed and sniffed into his handkerchief again. “She has the face of an angel and the voice of a lark.” He smiled at Morgan. “I met her earlier, and she’s promised me a dance.”

Over my dead body.

Morgan threw a questioning glance toward Constance, took hold of her elbow, and started propelling her away from the astonished earl.

“What do you mean by having Miss Sweet out this late and letting her dance with every fop, fribble, and popinjay who asks?”

Surprise lit in Constance’s eyes, and she stepped away from Morgan. She set her gaze firmly on his and said, “I will forgive you for your tone and your implication this once. If you want to know anything from me, you had best use the puffery you were so famous for when you asked me to travel to Valleydale.”

Morgan relaxed. “You’re right. I was out of line. Forgive me.”

“That’s better.”

“I wasn’t expecting to see her here, dancing.”

Looking so beautiful, so enticing, so womanly!

“Why shouldn’t she?”

“She’s just getting over her sickness. You don’t know how ill she was when she came to Valleydale. I wouldn’t like to see her sick again.”

Constance studied him, clearly not moved to believe him. “We’ve been in London almost two weeks. She’s in fine shape now, Morgan, and quite frankly, I think dancing is good for her. I believe one of the things she has needed is entertainment. With her father’s death, the long journey, and her recent illness, I believe she deserves a little enjoyment in her life.”

Morgan looked back to the dance floor. She did look as if she were having a marvelous time.

“I bow to your knowing what is best for her.”

“I think what is best for her is marriage.”

Morgan’s gaze darted back to Constance. “What?”

“You heard me. She’s a beautiful lady of quality with means. She’s not married at twenty-seven because she hasn’t been in London to have a Season or to be a part of the marriage mart. No doubt, if she let it be known at this party that she was available, she’d have offers before sunrise.”

Constance’s words stunned Morgan, but he believed them to be true. He looked back at the dance floor and saw the young man walking Arianna toward them. They were talking and smiling at each other. Morgan’s stomach constricted. She was the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen. Her light auburn hair was swept up on her head with small golden leaves woven through it. She wore long earrings that looked like hundreds of golden threads tied together. The waistline of her dress fit tightly underneath her breasts and was banded by golden-colored cord, and the skirt fell to the floor in what looked like shimmering layers of gossamer-thin alabaster.

The blade handed Arianna over to Constance, excused himself, bowed to Arianna, and walked away. Suddenly, Morgan knew what he didn’t want to believe. He was jealous. He was filled with it, enraged by it, and he didn’t know what to do about it. He had never cared enough about a woman to be jealous if another man showed interest in her, but Arianna was different. With her, he didn’t want anyone else touching her. When had this happened, and what was he going to do about it?

“Good evening, Lord Morgandale.”

She curtseyed and said his name so properly he wanted to tell her to cut the poppycock and call him Morgan, but he dared not be so bold in front of Constance.

“Good evening, Miss Sweet. May I say that gown is quite fetching on you.”

And you are so seductive you couldn’t keep me from ravishing you if we were alone right now!

“No doubt you like the very proper color,” she said.

“Yes,” he said tightly, wondering why the devil Constance had the damned gown cut so low Arianna couldn’t help but have every man in the house drooling over her beautifully rounded breasts. “It’s the perfect color for you,” he answered, remembering that she loved bright, vivid color, not neutrals.