Lady Libertine (9 page)

‘Oh, my lord,’ Lady Landon fluttered, quite coquettish as he strode across to the sideboard, ‘you must not wait on
us
.’

‘Nonsense,’ he carried both the coffeepot and the teapot across to the table, setting them down within reach, then fetching the milk and cups. ‘Such charming company. I am delighted to wait on you.’

Lucy found herself biting down on a smile. Really, he did flattery remarkably well, but she supposed he’d had a great deal of practice flattering susceptible females. Once again she glanced across at Phoebe, wondering if she felt the man’s charm, but her sister was merely looking sleepy, repressing a yawn.

Hamersley sat back down once again and smiled at his companions. His eyes seemed to linger on Lucy, but she knew this was probably only fancy on her part. Perhaps the entire thing was a product of her overactive imagination, for how likely was it that a man like the earl would be sharing smoldering looks with her?

Nevertheless, when he poured the coffee and passed it to her, his fingers touched hers and seemed to linger for a moment longer than was necessary. Once again, prickles of something that felt a great deal like desire – an unfamiliar enough sensation to Lucy, it had to be admitted – skittered across her skin and she almost spilt the contents of her cup as she jerked away.

‘Careful,’ he warned softly, ‘you’ll get burnt.’

She met those brilliant green eyes and the heat returned to her face.
He knows exactly what he’s about
, she thought with a touch of indignation, and what he was about was teasing her.

Naturally, her mother wasn’t going to have her stealing the attention of the most glorious catch she had had in her clutches so far this Season.

‘Well now, my lord, this is a very pleasant surprise. I had no idea Lord Billingsworth had invited you.’

‘I was a sudden inclusion,’ he said gravely.

‘But a very welcome one.’ Lady Landon glanced at Phoebe, who was sipping her coffee. ‘Wouldn’t you say so, Phoebe? That Lord Hamersley is a very welcome inclusion into the festivities?’

‘Oh, Phoebe does very well in any company,’ Lady Landon assured him, ‘She has a great deal of conversation, always interested in what others have to say.’

Lucy met her sister’s eyes and saw a glimmer of something that looked like desperation. She smiled at her. ‘Perhaps tomorrow we can take the carriage and go for a tour of the area. We passed through some delightful little towns on the way.’

‘Tomorrow,’ her mother said firmly, ‘we have been promised horse riding. Lord Billingsworth assures me that he has an excellent stable and there are some very pretty rides around here.’

Phoebe looked at her mother and Lucy mentally cursed the woman who had given birth to her. Her younger sister didn’t like horses and had a very poor seat. The big creatures scared the life out of her, always acting up when she was mounted, and her mother knew it. Phoebe usually accepted her mother’s plans readily enough, but Lucy knew she would be quite sick with nerves come the planned outing tomorrow.

‘I have had a better idea,’ she said brightly, ‘I think his lordship should accompany Lucy and I on a tour of the countryside.’ When her mother opened her mouth to immediately reject this, Lucy continued on quickly, ‘It would be so much nicer to have a small, intimate party.’

That brought Lady Landon up short. A small, intimate party containing the earl, Phoebe, and Lucy (who did not count). What could be better designed to illustrate the charms of her youngest child?

‘Well,’ she said slowly, ‘I suppose that might be enjoyable. Perhaps I should come and...’

‘Don’t be silly, Mama,’ Lucy said coolly. ‘It would never do for you to miss riding with Lord Billingsworth. Why, he was so delighted by the prospect when he mentioned it at dinner last night.’

Lady Landon paused, examining the matter from all angles. She was progressing nicely with Lord Billingsworth and was sure a marriage proposal lay just around the corner. Lucy watched her mother calculate the various permutations with cynical eyes. As expected, her mother decided to give her permission for the outing. After all, Lucy would be along and she would be all the chaperone Phoebe needed.

‘Well, I think that is a perfectly marvelous plan and how very kind of you to offer, my lord.’

‘Oh, not at all.’

The gentle note of irony was not lost on Lucy, who looked at him quickly. She had been so intent on getting Phoebe out of an unpleasant situation that she had used him as the sugar.
And
he knew it. His look spoke volumes. What a wretch she was, putting him forward for an expedition without a second thought! But really, he’d come to this absurd house party of his own accord, to interrogate
her
. He should expect a little inconvenience.

‘Yes, thank you for the offer. Most kind of you.’

The glint in his eye seemed to promise some kind of retribution, but really, what could he do?
What could he do?
The thought of what he could do to her sent a thrill of something warm and wicked all the way down to her toes. It was entirely wrong to think improper thoughts about a man she knew so little about (some would say it was wrong to think improper thoughts about any man), but really, the Earl of Hamersley was just
that
kind of man. She was sure he’d been prompting sinful thinking in hapless women for quite a few years, so it wasn’t even her fault, really. Who was she to resist a seasoned charmer?

Sitting back in her chair, Lucy listened to the conversation with half an ear. Her mother prattling on about Phoebe’s endless accomplishments, the earl replying with punctilious politeness, while Phoebe, bless her, added the occasional artful comment, but she wasn’t really paying attention. Instead she was wondering why a man who she barely knew and who she could have sworn she disliked most cordially two hours before, should suddenly seem so… so appealing.

No, that was the wrong word. It was more… intriguing? No, that wasn’t quite right either. If she were perfectly honest with herself – and Lucy tried to make a habit of that very thing – then she was forced to admit that the word she was looking for was attractive. Against all reason, she suddenly found herself very attracted to the Earl of Hamersley. Even now, sitting at the table with him, a very respectable five feet away, she was aware of his every little movement and the effect it had on her. A pleasant effect, no doubt. He certainly did very pleasant things to her body, causing it to hum along happily to its own, private tune.

But it was nonsense, just the same. The Lucy Landons of the world had no business holding a
tendre
for the most eligible man in London.

She angled a quick, sideways glance at him and found that he was looking at
her
, which made her drop her eyes immediately. He was only interested in discovering if she knew anything about Lady Libertine and she suspected he would use any means at his disposal to get the information.

Which could mean she was in for an interesting few days.

For Lucy suspected his lordship had a great many tricks up his sleeve for unwary ladies. She was curious to discover which ones he intended to deploy against her.

Chapter Five

Rand stared thoughtfully out of the window of the bedroom he had been given – a fine room, probably one of the best, thanks to his status – while he pursued the unaccustomed job of sorting out his feelings.

It was an unusual exercise, as Rand’s feelings were similar to those of any young, healthy animal, or so his sister assured him. No more complicated than a dog's. Food, sex, and comfort, not necessarily in that order. He would occasionally point out that dogs did not care to read, nor listen to music, but Julia had always dismissed this mild protest.

‘You can teach most dogs to do tricks, Rand. Society has taught you a few, but you are still, regrettably, a dog.’

It could not be argued that he liked to keep things simple, but somehow, somewhere along the way in the very brief time he had been at Fendleton Hall, things had become complicated and that complication had everything to do with Miss Lucy Landon.

Lucy. Encountering her once again should not have been problematic. Her arrival in the breakfast parlor so soon after his own arrival had been fortuitous, but it had also turned out to be unexpected. More than unexpected, actually. Disconcerting seemed a better word because somehow, quite without intending to, he had found himself flirting with Lucy and he had no idea why.

Actually, that was not entirely correct. During their interchange in the breakfast room, he had discovered that, not only was she remarkably easy to talk to, she was also far more attractive than he had first given her credit for. When she relaxed, it seemed she became a different person. There was an appealing candor about her, an honesty that was most refreshing.

Which was all well and good. Unlike many of his associates, he was all for having females as friends, but it was the
other
thing that was bothering him. The sudden discovery that, as amiable as Lucy might be, he had other things in mind. How it might be to taste that pretty mouth of hers, perhaps, or to slide the pins out of her oh-so-neat hair and ruffle it into wild disarray. In fact, he could list a number of ways in which he would like to cause that disarray, all of them involving removing Lucy Landon from her clothing and laying her some place soft. Somewhere along the way, it seemed he had developed an attraction to Lucy Landon.

Now when the hell had
that
happened?

Not that there was any danger of him acting on any of those sudden – and quite inexplicable – desires. As Julia had said, girls like Lucy were for marriage, not for ruin, but just the same…

Meaning that it was likely Chance would not be spending the night alone. For a man whose nose went in several different directions at once and an ear that was not as nature intended it, the former boxer was very popular with the ladies. ‘You’re a filthy hound, Chance.’

Rand let his man get on with the job of unpacking his things, leaving the room and heading down the stairs. He wanted air. He also wanted to see Lucy again, but that was one urge that should not be allowed to see the light of day. Instinct and experience warned him that actively pursuing Miss Landon would be a foolish thing to do and he had been very careful to listen to such cautionary feelings in the past. She was no Caroline Astor, a lady who, for all her virginity, had the eagerness and expertise of a courtesan. Rand was prepared to bet that no man had ever had his hand up
Lucy’s
skirt.

He had a quick, mental image of putting a hand up her skirt, hoping that the notion would appall him or, at the very least, make him feel like a scoundrel, but he could imagine sliding a hand beneath her petticoats all too easily, after kissing her senseless of course. He suspected that, given the right circumstances, Lucy might quite enjoy being kissed until she was breathless and the thought did nothing to cool his heated imaginings.

Which was an excellent reason to stay well away from her, unless there were a great many people around. Yes indeed, that was
exactly
what he should do.

So he was quite disappointed in himself when, having glimpsed the small, familiar figure heading across the lawn towards the orchard (did the wretched girl never stay indoors?), he took it upon himself to follow. So much for instinct and experience, although, he reasoned, he still had not learned what he had specifically come to discover.

He found Lucy wandering among the apple and peach trees, taking her time, clearly enjoying the air. She was unchaperoned and he wondered that she felt so casual about the propriety of her position; it was certain that her mother would not.

‘Miss Landon,’ he said, coming up behind her quietly.

Lucy turned and smiled at him, seemingly unsurprised by his arrival. ‘Hello.’

Rand tilted his head and blinked. For a moment he felt breathless, almost dizzy. It wasn’t all that different to how he had felt when he’d fallen off his horse several years ago and had taken a blow to the head. He felt as if somebody had hit him on the head now. Good God, he hoped he wasn’t having a seizure! His uncle had actually frothed at the mouth, a very unappealing sight. ‘What are you doing out here?’

‘Avoiding my parent. Mama would not go away. She insisted on telling me exactly what I must do tomorrow to ensure you fall in love with Phoebe so I decided to escape outdoors. Mama loathes the outdoors so I am perfectly safe for the moment.’

‘But she is going horse riding tomorrow,’ Rand objected.

‘That’s different. That’s for a cause. She must impress Lord Billingsworth of her suitability as a wife and he’s dreadfully Country under all that bluff and bluster. If I had not wanted to spare Phoebe the trials of a horse ride I would have enjoyed going along and watching her pretend to enjoy herself.’