Once Upon an Accident 02 - Lessons in Seduction (10 page)

When he spoke his voice was hard and unbending. “Considering what happened last time we were together, I felt that being surrounded by a room full of people was a brilliant idea. Your valuable reputation and all.”

Her panic mounted as she turned away. He could not know it had been her. How would a man who had probably been with scores of women be able to tell the difference between any of them? He’d even called her by another woman’s name.

Without looking at him, she said, “I have—”

“Don’t.”

The command in his voice was unmistakable. This time when she looked at him, his expression had hardened and his eyes narrowed. And Lord help her, even that aroused her. There was something definitely wrong with her.

She smiled, although little humor showed in it. Behind her mask of complacency, her mind was jumping from one option to the other and took the only one she thought might work, even if just for the moment.

“Whatever do you mean, Your Grace?”

The muscles in his jaw moved again, once, twice…

“Just don’t. You know what I mean, and if you do not take my advice, I will make sure you and everyone else in this room understands.”

“Understands?” Her voice had become breathless again, as if she were a debutante who did not know how to handle herself in social situations.

“My meaning. My preference. The situation. All of it.”

Seeing the very real threat in his expression, Cicely decided it best to retreat and rework her plan. When she settled back in her chair, she ignored the satisfied look on his face, because truly, she wanted to hit him. She was sure from this point on, he would be a bother. Out of some misguided sense of duty, he would hound her every attempt to find another man.

Who would have thought one rakish duke would give her such trouble?

A man many thought they knew stood in the back of the room and watched the byplay between Lady Cicely and Ethingham with keen interest and more than a bit of humor. He had no idea what was bubbling between the two, but something was there. It surprised him that Ethingham would move in that direction. Decidedly odd for a man considered one of the best catches in London. Considering Lady Cicely, a woman with no prospects and a very bland appearance had captured his attention, it was a troubling development indeed.

Unless Ethingham had heard of the diary and had an interest in it.

The young duke was not as active in politics as his predecessors had been, but he did have ties to the war department. An uncle… No, a cousin was the undersecretary of something there. Perhaps the duke was investigating and desired access to the information? A chill passed over his skin, then seeped beneath the surface, curdling the contents of his stomach. Dammit, he didn’t need a bloody duke traipsing around where he didn’t belong. It added another edge to the worry he had been dealing with all along.

That damned idiot Oglithorpe called everyone’s attention to the front of the room, ruining his ponderings. Sighing, he thought about his next plan of action. He had tried his best to gain Lady Cicely’s attention but she had ignored him, so he had developed other plans, better, less-complicated plans. He had to get ahold of that diary, by any means possible. Too much could be destroyed by its discovery. His mother, his sisters, not to mention the tenants from his estate. He didn’t give a damn about the other men, but he cared deeply for his own family, especially their status in society.

The panic that had been riding his back for over a week now caused his breathing to hitch. He covered it with a slight cough. He had done a great many things to protect his family name over the years. The horrid secret he had inherited must be protected at all costs. He’d never really had regrets about his actions. Although he did feel a little guilty for misleading a woman now to save his reputation.

No, he chastised himself. He did not care what needed to be done. He would get that diary, no matter who got hurt in the process.

www.samhainpublishing.com 87

In which Douglas finds he must compete for attention.

“I always knew it was wrong for you to do that to yourself, miss. Not healthy. Not healthy at all.” Betsy shook her head in disgust. “But your mother would have none of my suggestions, and well, after she died, I decided it wasn’t really my place.”

As Betsy fastened the last few buttons on the back of Cicely’s dress, she continued to prattle on about the changes in Cicely’s wardrobe. How she loved the design. How she herself would have chosen those darker shades. She had repeated the comment about what was her place and what was not at least ten times in as many minutes. Cicely, already nervous about her appearance at the Overton Musicale tonight, was ready to scream like a harpy and go hide in her dressing closet.

“Of course, this color is near perfect for your complexion.”

That stopped her. “Really?”

“Your coloring brings out those roses, it does. Come see.”

Cicely moved toward the mirror and inspected herself. Betsy was right. The ivory of her complexion set off the deep scarlet of the rose buds. They looked beautiful. She trailed her fingertips over the design.

She looked beautiful. The woman in the mirror smiled. Her white teeth barely showed in a slight gap between her full lips. Her bust pushed against the fabric, and while not inappropriate by any means, Cicely still found it a bit risqué. And she liked it. She felt, for the first time in her life, like she could possibly turn a head or two when she walked into a room.

If someone had told her three days earlier that she would look so different she would have laughed. But there she stood, a gown of brilliant red hugging her newly revealed curves. The silk confection had been designed in such a way as to accentuate every single last selling point her figure offered.

She twirled in a slow circle, briefly enjoying the graceful ripples of her gown. Looking down, she reached in and tried to readjust her breasts.

Betsy slapped her hand away. “That is how the dress is designed.”

She had to admit that she had never looked finer in her life. Her hand fluttered to her neck. Earlier in the afternoon, Sebastian had insisted she wear the Ware rubies tonight, more to please his wife, Colleen, than to please Cicely. He would not take no for an answer. No was a word he seemed both uncomfortable with and unable to comprehend.

She ran her hands over the beautiful, shining diamonds and rubies that sparkled against her skin. The necklace was heavy in her hand and more so on her neck, but it rested there with solid comfort. It was as if the stones represented ancestors long gone bestowing their approval on the current generation.

On her.

Everything from her styled hair, to the fancy silk slippers with the tiny rosebuds embroidered all the way around encasing her feet, made Cicely feel as if she were another woman. She caught her breath.

Someone…special.

“When is the duke coming to escort you to the musicale?”

That was another thing that had her stomach doing somersaults. She placed her freshly gloved hand against her belly, mentally ordering it to settle down. Douglas had insisted on escorting Cicely, her aunt and cousin to their function tonight. Knowing he planned on lecturing her on her behavior, she had been slow in preparing for the outing, dragging her feet through the entire process.

He knew, or suspected it had been her the night in the library, their lips locked in passion in a darkened room, wantonly seated on the Chesterfield. That was mortifying enough. But the fact that he now saw it as his duty to tell her what she was doing wrong in her quest was going to quite probably drain every last bit of confidence she had gained this afternoon from her first appearance.

“My lady?”

She shook herself out of her morbid ponderings and smiled at Betsy.

“He should be here any minute.”

Before Betsy could hurry her along, a footman knocked on the door to announce that both her aunt and cousin were waiting with their escort.

“See?” Betsy asked.

Knowing there was no delaying her cousin, or the inevitable, she grabbed her reticule and made her way down the stairs. As she turned the corner of the staircase, she saw Douglas standing at the bottom chatting with Anna. His interest snagged by her animated cousin, he had not noticed Cicely’s descent. She paused, taking the freedom his inattention offered to study him.

Dressed all in black, save his white linen shirt and cravat, he presented the picture of the perfect aristocrat. He glanced up with a mild expression of annoyance that only accentuated his attractiveness. As he started to turn back to Anna, he paused and looked back up, noticing her frozen on the stairs. For just a second—or maybe two—he did not break eye contact. The breath in her throat tangled, her heart rate tripled. Heat darkened the grey of his eyes. Then, slowly, his gaze traveled down her body. With each inch he covered, she felt naked, as if he could see through the layers of silk. By the time he met her gaze again, every nerve ending in her body quivered. Goose bumps rose on her flesh.

The muscles flexed in his cheek and a dark flush crept up into his face.

She licked her suddenly dry lips and tried to order herself to move.

But she stayed transfixed, consumed by the enigmatic man who had haunted her dreams for too many years. In all the time she had yearned for it, she would have never imagined he would look at her that way. As if she were a feast and he were a starving man. She drew in a breath and his eyes almost dilated. She swore she heard a growl emanate from him.

He looked ready to climb up the stairs and do something drastic.

It was at that point that Anna noticed her and clapped.

“Cicely, you look wonderful. See, Mother? I told you the scarlet would be glorious.”

Anna’s excited voice cut through the trance that held both Cicely and Douglas immobile. Douglas broke eye contact, turning away, giving Cicely the ability to finally finish her descent to join everyone else. Her nerves still jumped, her body still hummed, but she offered the small group a smile as if nothing untoward had happened.

“Thank you very much, Anna. I am sure everyone on Curzon Street is now well aware of your excitement.”

But Cicely’s droll tone did nothing to suppress the younger woman’s excitement. “I told you that you would look beautiful in red, and I was correct.”

“And so modest at the same time,” Sebastian said from the doorway to the library.

Anna turned to face her brother. “Oh, pooh. If you had seen the way she balked at the colors Madame Genevieve and I suggested—”

“If I keep listening to you, brat, you will figure out a way to lay claim to her beauty. And looking at our cousin, I can tell you that is all natural.”

Cicely smiled at her older cousin. He’d always been kind, even before ascending to the role of earl and head of the family. But in the last two years, he had become more of an older brother, no longer the distant, brooding cousin. Since his second marriage, the spark of life in his eyes was easy to see.

She curtsied. “Thank you for your compliment, Cousin.”

He laughed and pushed away from the doorjamb. “Now that won’t do for a Ware.”

Stepping forward, he grabbed her by her upper arms and pulled her closer to kiss her cheek. These displays of familial affection still confused and bewildered Cicely, but she no longer held herself stiffly away from him. She’d had little affection from her mother and father, but since moving in with this branch of the family tree, her cousins ignored her protests and treated her as if she were a sibling.

“Sebastian, don’t muss her hair,” said Colleen as she descended the stairs. Tall, lithe, even after two children, and beautiful, she joined the group gathering at the bottom of the staircase, her smile as warm and welcoming as Sebastian’s and Anna’s.

Sebastian slid his arm around Colleen’s waist and drew her nearer.

Again, the Wares did not behave as much of society did. Even in front of family, signs of love such as this would never be accepted.

At the moment, as she watched the couple, she did not understand why society frowned upon it. What was so wrong with a couple who loved each other showing it to the world?

“Fine one you are to talk since you hate all the pomp of going out,”

Sebastian remarked.

Colleen chuckled at her husband’s comment because it was well known that she would rather do anything than go to the ton’s activities.

When she turned her attention to Cicely, her eyes widened slightly and her smile warmed even more.

“You do look lovely, Cicely. And—even though I know I will regret it later—I have to say Anna was correct about the color. But I have to give credit to my husband for the rubies. They are the perfect touch. You wear them beautifully.”

“Thank you,” Cicely said.

“I see that we are all ready to go and here is Fitzgerald with our wraps,” Victoria announced.

As they donned their wraps, Cicely cut a curious look at Douglas who had been unusually silent and brooding during the entire exchange. “We need to hurry to make it before they start,” her aunt warned.

Within minutes, they were on their way. She sat next to Anna as Douglas sat facing her beside her aunt. Even without much light she could tell he was watching her. The look in his eyes reminded her of an animal hunting. She shivered and pulled her wrap closer to her body.

“Did you notice the way Douglas was staring at Cicely?” Colleen asked after she and Sebastian had retired to the library.

Sebastian looked up from the task of massaging her foot. Damn, but he was a lucky man. Colleen had reclined on the sofa, her hair unbound.

She was his Aphrodite come to life.

“What did you say?”

She laughed. “You’re so easy, Sebastian. I said, my cousin seemed to pay particular attention to yours.”

“Do not think about it.”

She blinked, the look of pure innocence flashing in her grey eyes.

“Whatever do you mean?”

“Do not try and match them.”

“Why not?”

“Douglas is way out of her league.”

She gasped and sat up. “Why ever would you say something like that? She saved my life, Sebastian. If it had not been for her, I would have never survived. We would have lost everything.”