B00Q5W7IXE (R) (4 page)

“And Miss Cecilia Rummel, may I present Lord Ernest.”

This time a blond with eyes almost the violet shade of his waistcoat curtsied.

Blue bowed to both ladies, wondering how quickly the dancing would end and when he could collect his wife. “Lady Albina, Miss Rummel. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“My lord,” Lady Albina said, her voice low and smoky, with an infinitely cultured accent. “The duchess tells me you fought in the war against Napoleon, and you were decorated for your service.”

Blue inclined his head. “I did my duty, that is all.”

The duchess took his sister’s arm and pulled her aside, leaving Blue alone with the two ladies.

“My brother fought in the war as well,” Miss Rummel said. “From what I understand the conditions were horrible. We owe you a debt of gratitude.”

Blue didn’t want gratitude. He didn’t want attention. He was quite used to slipping in and out of situations without being noticed. And when he was in London, he attempted to attract attention to his garish clothing—thus diverting it from himself. At the moment he felt much like Helena must feel on stage.

He did not care for it.

“As I said, I only did my duty.” From the corner of his eye, he saw his mother shoo Eleanor away, and he heaved an inward sigh. The one member of his family with whom he actually wished to speak was out of his reach.

“And do you live in Town now?” Miss Albina asked.

“I do,” Blue said as his mother came to stand beside him. “I’ve always preferred London to the country, which may make me something of an anomaly.”

“Oh, I prefer London as well,” Miss Rummel said, her violet eyes dancing. “I love all the excitement and activity.”

“I do think the quadrille is almost at an end,” the duchess said.

Thank God. An escape. “I should collect my—”

“I believe Miss Rummel and Lady Albina are in need of partners,” the duchess remarked.

Blue cut her a sharp look. What was his mother about? He was a married man. Why would she attempt to partner him with a debutante?

One did not need to be a spy to realize she hoped to rid him of his wife and choose another more to her liking. If he hadn’t been in company, he would have made perfectly clear his marriage vows were legal and binding. As it was, he had no choice but to offer to partner one of the ladies. To do otherwise would be the height of rudeness.

He glanced from one to the other, not particularly interested in either. Finally, he bowed to Miss Rummel. She reminded him a bit of Bonde, and he’d always found her a tolerable female.

And an excellent spy.

“Miss Rummel,” he said with a bow. “May I have the pleasure?”

She beamed and accepted. He led her to the center of the ballroom, where the dancers had formed rows of men and women facing each other for one of the country dances. Six or so couples away, he spotted Helena, who was now partnered with Ewan, another of his brothers.

Her gaze collided with his, sending heat straight through him. He had the uncharacteristic urge to topple the men between them, snatch her away, and kiss her until he forgot this whole monstrous evening.

And then the music began, and she gave him a weary look and reached out her arms to clasp Ewan’s hands. Blue followed suit, taking Miss Rummel’s hands in his.

He made idle conversation with Miss Rummel as they danced. He excelled at speaking of nothing and detested it as well. He promenaded and turned and bowed, and finally the dance ended. He grasped Miss Rummel’s hand and yanked her after Helena and Ewan, pulling her so they might intercept Helena before Ewan foisted her on another of his brothers. Indeed, Blue spotted Edwin and Erasmus waiting. Edmund, the heir, would most likely not be called upon, but Blue did not intend to take that risk.

Instead of promenading Miss Rummel about the ballroom and back to her chaperone, as was customary, he snatched Helena from Ewan’s arm and presented Miss Rummel.

“Excuse me,” Blue said, bowing, then pulling Helena out of his brothers’ clutches.

“What are you doing?” she said, her breathy laughter warming him through. Thank God she hadn’t an arrogant bone in her body and was not angry at his parents’ snub.

“Escaping before you are forced to dance with another of my brothers and I with another debutante.” He arrowed for one of the exits but quickly changed direction when he spotted his father and his sister Esther blocking the doors. Helena squealed when he careened her toward the other exit, but damn if Eugenia and Emily were not stationed there.

Devil take him and his whole family too.

He was trapped. The more fool him for neglecting to hold a plan in reserve. Where were Wolf and Saint now that he needed assistance?

Blue spotted Edwin approaching and swerved in yet another direction.

“Blue!” Helena protested. “I grow dizzy.”

“Shall we dance?”

“Now you wish to dance?”

Without waiting for her approval—as he doubted it would come—Blue led Helena into the center of the ballroom, where a waltz had just begun. He swept her into his arms and counted the steps in his mind, moving his feet in time until he forgot the music, forgot his siblings, forgot everything but Helena.

In his arms.

His hand on the small of her back curled protectively, and he tugged her closer than etiquette allowed. His belly tightened, and the blood thrummed in his ears. He could never hold her without thinking of kissing her, and it required willpower not to give into the compulsion now.

His gaze lowered to her lips, which were still faintly red with the paint from the theater. She darted her tongue out, the small pink tip enticing him as it wet the red flesh.

“I thought we were escaping,” she said as he twirled her. He’d neglected to count or even listen to the music, but he knew instinctively they moved in time. They always danced well together. She was an excellent dancer, anticipating his moves and following effortlessly.

“Change of plan. My family has the ballroom surrounded.”

“Oh dear,” she said with mock terror. “Shall we call for reinforcements?”

“You laugh now, but if we stay much longer you may be forced to dance with each of my brothers and several cousins, while I must play caper merchant to every debutante of my sisters’ acquaintance.”

“Are all of your brothers and sisters here tonight?” she asked, her hand on his shoulder sliding down over his arm and back up again. The gesture was one of familiarity, and he opened and closed his hand on her waist, fighting the urge to pull her hard against him even more familiarly. Blue wondered if she even realized she’d stroked him. When they were together, it was instinct to touch and stroke and kiss...

“I have not seen Edmund, but he is undoubtedly lurking somewhere.”

Her brow furrowed. “I thought I danced with Edmund.”

Blue spotted the duchess frowning from the edge of the dance floor and twirled Helena away from her.

“No, that was Edward.”

“I danced with Edward first and Edmund second.”

“No, you danced with Ewan second.”

She shook her head quickly as though an insect buzzed about her ears. “I cannot keep them straight. However do you do it?”

“Practice, I suppose.” He’d been scanning the room, and his diligence was rewarded. “A-ha!” He twirled her toward the edge of the dance floor and yanked her in the direction of the exit.

“A-ha?” Helena asked with a laugh.

“Eugenia has abandoned her post.” He took Helena’s hand and pulled her closer to the wide door. “Emily alone cannot detain us. Now’s our chance.”

Blue cut through the guests milling about and positioned himself on a trajectory to intercept Emily. Emily shifted right then left, then looked helplessly about for the cavalry.

But she’d been abandoned in her time of need. She might as well unearth her white flag. Success was within his grasp. Blue had the urge to throw his head back and laugh.

“Lady Emily,” he said with a quick bow as he pulled Helena past his middle sister.

“Ernest, wait!”

“My apologies,” he called without looking back. “We will talk later.”

He turned toward the entrance doors, and skidded to a stop. Helena ran into him, laughing when he caught her about the waist. “What are you doing?”

“Foiled again. Edmund has been stationed at the great egress.”

“The great—”

“This way, my lady!”

Pulling his imaginary sword from his scabbard, he led his lady in the opposite direction, pausing before the library door. Blue tried it, cursing when it would not open.

“Thwarted again!” He made a figure eight with his sword.

“Is this how you behaved on your missions?”

“Of course not.” He tucked a hand on his hip, resting his sword arm. “I am never thwarted on missions. I was foiled once...” He gestured to his imaginary sword.

Helena shook her head at his vain attempt at humor. She faced the entryway, and her eyes widened at something she saw.

“Now what?” she asked. “I think Lord Edmund might have spotted us.”

“Hold this.” He handed her the imaginary sword. “Give me a hairpin.”

She obliged without inquiring as to why. A lock of her hair fell down over one creamy shoulder. Blue, the consummate professional, attempted to ignore the lovely sight of that dark curl against that pale flesh and knelt to—as the rooks said—dub the gigger. He’d picked this lock before in his misspent youth, and it opened easily. In one fell swoop, he kicked it wide, whirled Helena inside, and closed the door with his foot.

“That was close.”

“My knight.” She presented him the imaginary sword, which he promptly sheathed. “Your chivalry must be rewarded.” Both of her hands landed on his shoulders, and she pushed him back against the door. “I will never understand why I find you and your imaginary sword so completely irresistible.”

Her body collided with his in a flash of heat and passion, and he could do little but hold on to her as she took his mouth with hers.

The kiss seared him, zinging a shot of arousal straight to his cock, which stood at half-mast as it was. Her tongue traced the seam of his lips, and he opened for her. When her body molded to his, pressing against that hard length, he couldn’t help but groan into her mouth. She swept inside, exploring him even as her hips moved invitingly.

“If you enjoy my imaginary sword, you should see my real one.”

His hands grasped her back, sliding down until he cupped her bottom and her sweet warmth pressed against him. His cock throbbed with the need to be inside her. Her tongue lashed at his as she took his mouth fiercely. She slid her hands down his chest, back up, then down again, this time curving them over his hips.

He shook at her touch, at the proximity of her hands to his very tangible sword. And then she slid a hand between their bodies and cupped him.

He muttered a very ungentlemanly oath, borne out of need and pleasure. “If you continue this assault, madam,” he said, reaching for control, “I shall be forced to raise your skirts and show you what my trusty foil is capable of.”

“Is that a warning or a promise?” she purred.

“Oh, a promise.”

“Good.” Her hand closed on his cock, and he groaned with need. Suddenly her mouth left his, and she slid her body enticingly down his front. He felt every inch of her rounded breasts against his chest, his abdomen, and his cock until she kneeled before him.

Her fingers played with the fall of his breeches, and he struggled to summon the words to tell her no. He wanted her in bed, he wanted to pleasure her until she cried his name, he wanted to hold her and whisper words of love in her ear.

And he also desperately wanted her to take him inside her hot mouth and pleasure him until he screamed her name.

With a teasing smile, she loosed the fall, and he sprang into her palm.

“Helena.” His voice was raw and hoarse, half filled with need and half with warning.

“Hmm?” Her fingers danced lightly over the head of his member, and she gave him a seductive smile that almost undid him. Her hand closed over him, slid down to the root and then back to the head.

Blue’s fingers scraped against the door as he fought to remain on his feet. “Hele—”

Her warm mouth closed over him, and the words ended in a strangled groan. His head fell back against the door when she took him deep.

He had to stop her.

Not that he didn’t want her to continue. He
desperately
wanted her to continue.

But they were in his father’s library. On Christmas Eve. There should have been candlelight and wine.

At least mistletoe.

And he had that damn coded missive in his pocket. He couldn’t allow this to continue with that secret between them.

It pained him, it physically pained him, but he grasped her shoulders and pulled her up. “We should—” he began but said no more before her lips nuzzled his neck and nibbled all the way to his ear.

“I’m wet for you,” she whispered.

All of his good intentions fled with those four words.

Four

Blue moved so quickly that Helena’s head spun. One moment her body clung to his as she whispered all manner of naughty words in his ear, and the next he’d shoved her against the bookshelf, her wrists imprisoned above her head as he savaged her mouth with his own.

Blue rarely lost control. He was more the son of a duke than he liked to admit. She’d been born of cruder stock, and she liked a rough tumble now and again. Something about dancing the waltz with him in that stuffy ballroom filled with all the trappings of Christmas and none of the genuine cheer had made her long for escape. There was no escape like that of his arms, and when he’d yanked her hard against him, in full view of every lady looking down her nose and every man squinting through his quizzing glass, Helena had wanted him madly.

She still wanted him, and she’d be damned if a gaggle of brothers and sisters would keep her from him.

“I think we may be clear on one point at least,” she managed when his lips dipped to her throat.

“What is that?” His words, spoken against her skin, rumbled through her.

“Your family has not changed its mind about me.”