An Invitation to Seduction (15 page)

“He’s your soul mate,” Lady Priscilla said with a sigh. “So you recognize that part of him that speaks to you,
even though he never actually speaks to you.” She giggled. “That was a profound thought, wasn’t it?”

Anne laughed. “No! It was silly. I think you’ve had far too much wine.”

“Hardly. Pour me some more.”

While Anne did the pouring, Kitty dared to ask, “Anne, why has your brother not taken a wife?”

“My mother has been asking him the same thing for years now. She’s quite beside herself with worry. After all, he has no brother to inherit the title should an accident befall Richard. It is a mystery as to why he has not yet shown any interest in getting married.”

Only he had shown interest…to her. Proposing in her garden.

“Perhaps he is waiting for a woman to want to marry him,” Lady Priscilla offered.

“I should think that wouldn’t be a problem,” Lady Anne said, clearly in defense of her brother.

“He’s not what I’d call classically handsome,” Lady Priscilla said.

“Well, no,” Lady Anne reluctantly admitted.

“And he’s not exactly…jovial.”

“No, he’s not,” Lady Anne said.

“And he tends to be domineering.”

Lady Anne nodded. “Indeed.”

She appeared to be remarkably sad, then she brightened. “He dances well.”

Kitty burst out laughing. She couldn’t help herself. Perhaps she’d had too much wine, but she’d sat there listening to their inconsequential descriptions of the man. Abruptly she quieted under their direct stares.

“You don’t think he dances well?” Lady Anne asked, clearly offended.

Kitty had to swallow another bubble of laughter. “I think he dances marvelously.” She shook her head, her
mind swirling. A combination of the wine and the warm water was loosening her tongue, and she seemed to have no power to hold back the words.

“You say he is not classically handsome, and I say that I have never seen a man who portrayed such”—she thought of him that first morning by the sea—“magnificence. A power that is evident the moment your gaze falls on him.

“You say he’s not jovial, and I’ll admit I’ve never heard him erupt with bold laughter, and yet I sense in him that he finds joy in ensuring that others enjoy life. The wagers with Farthingham…Farthingham’s prize should he have won was always so much more valuable than what Weddington would have gained. And yet I think he was more inclined to accept the wager because Farthingham so enjoys wagering.

“As for his domineering attitude, would you truly want a man who couldn’t exhibit power, influence, and control to inherit the family’s titles? In many ways, he reminds me of my father. He possesses a determination to succeed. Call it competitiveness or the inability to settle for less than one deserves, but it’s not a negative attribute. I find it incredibly appealing when a man will strive to achieve.

“I’ve found your brother to be thoughtful, considerate, and dependable. He does not play when responsibilities call him. He places his obligations first, and in so doing, he places his family above all else. I find him admirable.”

With their eyes wide and their mouths agape, both ladies stared at her.

“My Lord,” Lady Anne finally said. “If you have such flattering comments to say about my brother—with such conviction—I can well imagine that you’ve placed Farthingham, the man you intend to marry, on a golden pedestal.”

Kitty suddenly felt ill. A result of too much wine, she
was certain of it. Otherwise, she might have to admit that the roiling in her stomach was caused by her fear that they’d ask her to expound on Farthingham’s virtues, and the only thing she could think to say was that he was fun, and he made her feel safe.

“I
do believe Cook has outdone herself this morning,” Richard said as he began to cut into the slice of ham on his plate. “Everything smells incredibly delicious. Don’t you agree, Anne?”

From her place at the table, his sister shook her head and pressed a hand to her mouth. All three ladies were a bit off-color that morning. Seaweed green. No doubt a result of their excursion to the bathhouse.

He’d been standing by the window in the billiard room, waiting for Farthingham to take a shot, when he’d heard the commotion outside. He’d excused himself and followed the whispering, giggling ladies to the bathhouse, then kept watch to make certain no one disturbed them.

They’d stayed so long he was surprised that they hadn’t shriveled up into nothing.

“Miss Robertson, are you certain that I can’t fetch you a helping of eggs? Cook seasons them with some sort of rare spice, so they have a most distinct ?avoring that makes them a delightful gift to the palate.”

She gave him a scathing glare that might have sliced a lesser man to ribbons. “No, thank you. The tea will suffice.”

“Well, if you happen to change your mind, I’ll be only too glad to fill a plate for you with all the varied offerings designed to make a person’s mouth water.”

Narrowing her eyes at him, she pressed her fingers to her temples.

“Whatever is wrong, my sweet? Did something you ate during dinner not agree with you last night?” Farthingham asked.

“I suspect something following dinner agreed too much,” Richard said.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Kitty asked.

“I don’t enjoy that you’re miserable, but I certainly don’t mind goading you about your foolishness.”

“I feel as though Freddie and I have been left out of something quite important,” Farthingham said.

“I believe the ladies spent a bit of time at the bathhouse last night. How much wine, Anne? Two bottles, three?”

“Four, if you must know.”

Scoffing, Richard shook his head in amazement.

“I suppose you’ve never drunk to excess,” Kitty stated.

“Actually no. I prefer to keep my wits about me.”

“But wine makes it easier to talk,” Anne said.

“I’ve never noticed you having difficulty talking,” Richard said. “Too much wine can loosen one’s tongue, which is not the same as making it easier to converse.”

“I disagree. I’m certain without the wine, Kitty never would have confessed that Farthingham is an amazing kisser,” Lady Priscilla said.

“Prissy!” Kitty snapped.

Horror washed over Lady Priscilla’s face. “Oops! That was supposed to remain our little secret, wasn’t it? I’m dreadfully sorry. Truly I am. I simply forgot.”

“I don’t mind having my talents revealed,” Farthingham said, placing his elbow on the table, his chin in his palm. “Not at all. I’m quite pleased to know, my sweet, that you take such pleasure in my wooing of you.”

Kitty looked as though she wanted to die on the spot, and Richard was certain it wasn’t simply from the ill effects of having finally gone to bed in the wee hours before dawn with too much alcohol in her blood. She pushed back her chair. “I’m going to lie down.”

“Will you be up to going out on the yacht this afternoon?” Richard asked.

She nodded. “Yes.”

As she walked from the room, Anne stood. “I think I shall return to bed as well.”

“And I,” Lady Priscilla said.

Once the ladies were out of earshot, the gentlemen passed glances among themselves, shaking their heads, and smiling.

“Perhaps we should postpone taking the yacht out,” Farthingham suggested.

But Richard was anxious for Kitty to see his fine vessel. “We’ll go after lunch. They should be all right by then.”

“Four bottles of wine among the three of them? No telling what else they confessed,” Farthingham speculated.

Richard wondered if Kitty had mentioned his kisses as well as Farthingham’s, or had she found his to be easily forgotten? More importantly, was it Farthingham’s
amazing
kisses that kept her tethered to him? It was a notion Weddington hadn’t considered. Perhaps Farthingham did have the skills required to bring her passions to the surface. It wasn’t a thought he much liked having.

The Fair Lady
was moored in the harbor of the small port town where Kitty and her family had vacationed only a few weeks earlier.

Weddington had gone ahead of them to see to readying the vessel and had helped her and Farthingham board his yacht as soon as the small rowboat used to get them to the yacht had drawn up alongside the much larger ship. The others were still getting themselves ready, promising to arrive soon, not nearly as anxious as Kitty was to be under way.

While she walked slowly from stern to bow, inspecting the ship, she sensed Weddington scrutinizing her as he followed. Wishing Priscilla had kept her mouth tightly sealed regarding the kiss, Kitty wondered if Weddington suspected it was his kiss she’d described to his sister and her friend and not Farthingham’s. Although she imagined no reason existed for him to suspect that he alone had kissed her passionately, she’d prefer for him not to realize that she’d spent a good deal of time reflecting on his mastery of seduction.

“What do you think, my sweet? Impressed?” Farthingham asked, as they reached the bow and came to a stop.

She darted a glance at Weddington, who stood with his hands behind his back, his gaze focused intently on her, almost as though he held his breath in anticipation of her answer. “It’s lovely,” she finally admitted.

Weddington acknowledged her statement with a barely discernable bowing of his head, while Farthingham took her arm with such excitement that she would have thought he was the one responsible for the magnificence of the vessel. “Let me show you belowdecks. That is where you’ll find the true beauty of this yacht.”

“If Weddington doesn’t mind,” she said.

“Of course, I don’t mind,” Weddington said. “Make yourselves at home. Once we shove off, we’ll be serving tea to the ladies on the deck.”

Tea for the ladies—as though ladies were incapable of doing anything more while on board than sit and sip. It
was a commonly held belief that Kitty’s lingering headache was no doubt causing her to resent.

Tugging on her arm, Farthingham left her with no choice except to leave Weddington standing where he was, gazing after them as Farthingham escorted her down the dark wooden stairs into the main saloon. Intricately carved paneling greeted her, along with rich burgundy velvet-covered chairs and sofas. Exquisite tables and collections of tiny porcelain and marble figurines decorated the room.

“Are you even more impressed now?” Farthingham asked.

“I was quite impressed before. Everything is so beautiful.” And rivaled her father’s yacht in magnificence. Because they traveled on the water to such a great degree, he’d had the interior of
The Lone Star
designed with comfort, convenience, and appreciation in mind so that it was a pleasure to live on board. Kitty thought the same could be said of
The Fair Lady.

“The library is through that passageway, and on the other side is a room where guests sleep. But through here”—he took her hand and led the way—“is where the master sleeps.”

Although much smaller than the bedchamber she was using at Drummond Manor, the room was not that much different. A four-poster bed dominated the room, its comforter the same as the one that covered the bed she’d slept in for a few hours the previous night.

“I thought we might use the yacht for a wedding trip,” Farthingham said quietly.

An image of her and him nestled within that bed jumped into her mind, and just as quickly he slipped away and Weddington replaced him. She felt the heat suffuse her face. She and Farthingham would share a bed. Of course, they would. She would find it most pleasant
and enjoyable. “Weddington might have a thing or two to say about that,” she said.

“Not really, since the yacht is ours.”

Kitty turned to stare at him as though he’d lost his mind. “What?”

“It’s ours,” he repeated. “Weddington is giving it to us as a wedding present.”

Now she was certain that he’d lost his mind. “Nicky, you can’t accept—”

“Of course I can, my sweet. Actually, I must accept. It’s an insult to the bearer of the gift to do otherwise.”

“But it’s too…it’s too…magnificent a gift.”

“Of course, it is. That’s the very reason I wanted you to have it. What’s more, he’s arranging with his solicitor to have a certain amount set aside each year for ten years to go toward its upkeep—which can be quite costly, I can assure you.”

She shook her head emphatically. She was quite aware of the expense involved in keeping a yacht seaworthy. “Why is he doing this?”

“Because he is a friend who wishes to see us happy.” He cupped her cheek. “Why aren’t you joyous?”

“It’s too grand a gift.”

He laughed. “My sweet, Weddington can well afford to give this yacht away tenfold. It means nothing to him.”

“Nicky, simply because someone possesses something in abundance doesn’t mean that he no longer values it. It’s like children. If you have one, then another, your love for the first doesn’t diminish, and you don’t love the second any less than you did the first. Abundance doesn’t always cause value to lessen.”

He moved his hand aside and furrowed his brow. “I thought you would be pleased. I want you to have it. If I could purchase it for you myself, I would without hesita
tion. But I can’t. Not even the settlement your father agreed to will ever allow me to purchase something of this grandeur.”

Now it was she who cradled his cheek. “Nicky, you’re what I want, what I need. Not things. Not yachts, not jewelry, not gowns.”

“Because you’ve always had them, you’ve not learned what it is to miss them. But you will, my sweet. You will. Be gracious. Accept Weddington’s gift, if only because it will please me for you to do so.”

She so wanted to please him, but she couldn’t help but believe that not only the yacht but ten years of upkeep were far too generous of Weddington. She didn’t trust the gift, feared it more closely resembled a Trojan horse. What would Weddington gain by giving it to them?

She forced herself to smile. “May I have time to think about it?”

He grinned broadly as though he’d already won the argument. “Of course, my sweet. But don’t take too long. I was serious about our using it for a wedding trip.”

Nodding, she walked out of the room and headed for the stairway that would return her to the deck. A few months ago, she’d been so sure of her course, and now she suddenly felt as though she’d somehow managed to become lost in a fog. Weddington’s generosity. Farthingham’s willingness to accept it. She was no longer sure what to make of any of it or her feelings toward either man.

As soon as Lady Priscilla, Lady Anne, and Freddie had arrived, Weddington had ordered that they cast off and be on their way. Since he’d confessed to being terrified of the sea, Kitty was surprised by his eagerness to be under way, and yet at the same time, she fully understood it. She’d never been one to put off unpleasant tasks. Better
to get the unpleasantness over with as soon as possible, so she could move on to pleasanter endeavors without guilt.

Yet watching Weddington at the wheel, she couldn’t help but believe that he was determined to control the sea—or at least his destiny—as much as possible. He stood with his feet spread for balance, his hands gripping the wheel, his gaze trained ahead of him, man battling the elements.

He had his crew, who saw to the sails and watched the sea as well, but she had no doubt that Weddington was at the helm, completely in charge. Not a figurehead, playing at commanding—as her father was prone to do from time to time—but the absolute commander, in charge of the ship, the men, the guests, the course. She thought if it were possible, he would have commanded the wind, the swells…the manner in which the sunlight glinted off the water.

Farthingham and Freddie had gone to the bow—for a clearer view—while Kitty, Lady Anne, and Lady Priscilla sat in wicker chairs at a wicker table, politely sipping tea that a servant had delivered from belowdecks. So terribly civilized.

Kitty was well aware that a lady’s place on the yacht was relegated to one of pleasure only—simple enjoyment. All the ladies, including her, were dressed for afternoon tea with their tight dresses and their fancy, wide-brimmed hats. They could quite successfully disembark and walk through Hyde Park without anyone being the wiser about where they’d spent the afternoon.

And even now, aboard the ship, no one would know how she’d spent her time watching Weddington instead of thinking about her betrothed. She couldn’t quite get over how she’d spoken in his defense last night at the bathhouse when Lady Priscilla had mentioned how much more fun Farthingham was.

Kitty couldn’t deny that Farthingham was the one who made them laugh and smile; nor could she deny that he was the one who generally possessed such scathingly brilliant notions for having fun—yet Weddington somehow appeared to be the one who made the fun available. Accepting ridiculous wagers so that people had an opportunity to take sides and be able to place more emphasis on, take more interest in, an event than it rightly deserved, thus making it more enjoyable for all involved, participant and spectator alike. He made his residence, his yacht, his opera box, his carriage, his coach available for anyone who asked. With complete unselfishness. Never demanded or apparently expected anything in return.

And yet, he’d tried to take her away from Farthingham. To steal her away, actually. With daring, forbidden caresses and slow, sensual kisses. He’d left no doubt in her mind that he wanted her. Had tormented her constantly with that knowledge. And yet, had she not continually placed herself within his reach?

He was the one who held his hands behind his back so he wouldn’t touch her. He was the one who appeared to be a perfect gentleman, while she knew a part of him was a corrupting rogue. Knew his true nature because she’d certainly allowed him to tempt and corrupt her. She hadn’t put up much of a fight either, nor had she ever bothered to protest except
after
the fact.