Once Upon an Accident 02 - Lessons in Seduction (3 page)

Daniel’s amused voice broke into his thoughts. “Eleven.”

“Eleven what?”

Laughter laced the words, but it had not yet come bursting forth from Daniel’s ear-splitting grin. “You asked me what time you were to arrive at the Penwyth townhouse.”

“Right. I will see you there.”

Without another word, he strode across the ballroom, never taking his eyes off his quarry. He would not allow Lady Cicely to go off making advances on the male population of the ton. Since Sebastian wasn’t there, it would have to be he who stepped into the role of guardian and protected the chit. He reassured himself it had nothing to do with his own strange reaction to her this evening. If she were left to her own devices, which apparently she was, she would find herself ruined. He was only trying to save her from herself.

In which Lady Cicely requests aid from an unlikely source.

The evening had been painfully long and it was not even remotely close to being over. Cicely smiled at the Earl of Dewhurst and wondered, not for the first time in the last few moments, why women were so fascinated with him. He was attractive enough, with his dark brown eyes, strong jaw and ready smile. Dressed always in the first stare of fashion, he certainly cut a fine figure. Debutantes whispered about his prowess, his masculinity. All Cicely could think about was just how boring the man truly was.

Awareness feathered across the back of her neck, as if fingers trailed against her skin. She shivered. She didn’t have to turn around to know who approached. As before, her body reacted to the duke’s nearness. Her heart pounded even as she silently admonished herself. The man was just not interested. In truth, he had been appalled by the idea of bedding her. She knew that would be a deterrent to any help he might give in that area. If he could not even fathom the deed, how on earth could he help her secure another who might?

It was then that she realized Dewhurst had broken off talking about himself—and wasn’t that wonderful—and was gaping at something over her shoulder. She sighed, knowing Douglas stood there behind her. She didn’t like confrontations and she would rather at this point Dewhurst not know about the list and what it was for.

Slowly, trying to appear as if her nerves weren’t hopping, she turned to face Douglas. She hoped he couldn’t tell how he affected her. Even as she felt a flare of heat warm her cheeks, she met his frank gaze. She would not be pitied again. But what she found shimmering in his grey eyes made her breath catch in her throat. It was not pity she saw there.

It was anger. She’d never seen Douglas angry, but there was no mistaking the emotion shadowing his eyes. No wonder Dewhurst had suddenly stopped talking about himself.

“Your Grace.” She curtsied. “You know the earl, do you not?” She waved her hand in front of Dewhurst’s chest, almost smacking him.

“Yes,” Douglas said, his voice cold and hard. “I believe we have met on occasion.”

“Y-Y-Your Grace.” Dewhurst bowed and when he righted himself, he looked from side to side. He smoothed his richly tailored plum jacket, removing unseen folds and wrinkles. “Ahh, I see my mother has arrived.”

After excusing himself, he practically ran away.

She watched the earl’s retreat with a cross between amusement and astonishment. “Well, Your Grace, you seem to know how to keep the conversation going.”

“You’re definitely not wasting any time, Lady Cicely.”

At first, she couldn’t believe he had made reference to their earlier conversation, especially as loudly as he said it. Embarrassment, even though no one knew what he was talking about, and anger intertwined and caused her voice to rise to a level matching his own.

“Your Grace, I was just chatting to Dewhurst about the next Historical Society meeting.”

She hoped he didn’t realize she was lying. She actually had been talking about that, as Dewhurst did attend some meetings, but he’d had no interest in her discovery. About five minutes into the conversation she had acknowledged the only subject Dewhurst liked to talk about was Dewhurst. Then she’d done no talking. He talked enough for both of them.

“Chatting is a relatively inane name for what you were probably saying to him.”

“What makes you think you know what I was saying to him?”

He smiled, but there was no humor in it. “Seeing how you asked me while dancing, I figured you went to the next name on the list.”

Of all the nerve! “First of all…” She lowered her voice when she noticed it had risen enough to catch bystanders’ attention. “First of all, I asked you then because you said you owed me. That is the only reason I presented the query to you. Second of all, Dewhurst isn’t that far up on the list, if you must know. And third of all, it isn’t any of your business.”

“It is my business. You asked me first. But then, my family connection to you makes it imperative that I watch over you.”

Once again, she was knocked speechless. The man had to be one of the most arrogant people on the face of the earth. Granted, he was a duke, but what made him think he could tell her what she could and could not do?

It briefly flitted through her mind to tell him he had not been the first one she had asked, but that was simply petty and it would do no good to lie to him about that. He was angry enough as it was. She tried a different approach. “While I understand your concern, I really don’t think there is any need for it. I have changed my mind.”

His eyebrows rose slightly, and he studied her. “And what brought about this change?”

Cicely pulled her lower lip between her teeth, trying to think of a lie plausible enough to fool him. She wasn’t very good at the whole game of lying. Blushing profusely while telling falsehoods tended to alert people of one’s deception. Understanding now just how far his arrogance went, she decided guilt might work. Drawing in a deep breath, she prepared her performance, knowing the threat of tears worked on most men. She’d seen Anna perform this task at least a half dozen times in the last month.

“Truthfully?”

“That would be nice.”

“Very well. When you seemed so appalled by the idea, I realized what I was up against.” She shook her head dramatically and blinked a few times.

“Lady Cicely—”

“No. No, don’t say any more. I completely understand. I do. I see why you would not want me, but please spare me the words. It was foolish to ask you, to even think… Anyway, I wish to put the whole thing behind me.” She lowered her head and pitched her voice in such a way that there was no mistaking her horror. If Douglas bought this act, Anna was right. Men were terrified of female tears.

He sighed, and she couldn’t help glancing up from beneath her lashes at him. For the first time since Cicely had met him, Douglas not only looked confused, but a tad bit bewildered. She almost felt sorry for him, but she was more worried about diverting his attention. She didn’t need another big brother. Certainly not one she thought of with such…adoration.

“Lady Cicely, I apologize for upsetting you.”

She looked up, waiting for his next comment, but the bell for dinner rang.

He paused. Cicely watched, amused in spite of her situation. The mixture of emotions that swept over his features ranged from suspicion to irritation to uneasiness. His eyebrows drew down as he narrowed his eyes, studying her as if she were a creature he had never seen before.

After a few moments, he released a breath and the tension in his body drained. He may not believe her, but at that moment, he wasn’t going to press for information. Holding out his arm, he said, “Would you do me the honor of accompanying me into dinner?”

She smiled at him, relieved he had chosen this path. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

Forgetting the need for tears, or a demure manner, she placed her hand on his sleeve and walked beside him into the dinner room. Her hand warmed, his body heat seeping through the sleeve. Her pulse tripped as she thought of what it would be like to glide her hand up the bare skin of his arm, feeling his warmth without barriers. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed he had pulled his wits back together, his society face firmly in place. It was a travesty that she had to act like a ninny and cry, but there was no other way. She glanced at him again, her gaze following the strong line of his jaw. He would have been a wonderful choice, if only he’d accepted to honor the boon.

As he held out the chair for her to be seated, she thought, not for the last time that evening, it was an utter shame the man had no interest in ruining her.

Dinner was an excruciating affair. Course after course had been served. Rich dishes he should have enjoyed but did not. The orchestrated meal was not about the food, it was about who could outdo whom.

Douglas never cared much for all the frivolity that went with society. But, in the past few years, he had grown accustomed to the games. As he listened to Lord Oglithorpe bore everyone with stories of his hounds, Douglas took a drink of dry red wine and contemplated his dinner companion.

Cicely had been on her best behavior since she had propositioned him. Of course, that didn’t mean he had been. It was as if he were finally awakened from a long sleep. For some reason, ever since that moment on the dance floor, he had begun noticing small things about her. Just ordinary things, but nonetheless, they were wreaking havoc with his ability to think straight.

She smiled innocently at something Oglithorpe said, then pulled her full lower lip between her teeth. The simple gesture caused Douglas to lick his own lips as thoughts of just how her mouth would taste flickered in his mind. He should be shocked at his reaction, and he was, sort of, but he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about it. Just like he couldn’t stop thinking about how she had felt in his arms when they waltzed. Or how she would feel in his embrace, in his bed.

He swallowed as another blast of arousal rushed over his flesh and through his blood at the memory. The sound of her soft voice, the clean, womanly scent of her. Both were still affecting him now. He couldn’t believe he’d gone this long thinking of Cicely as a little sister. Especially since not one single thought of her in the past hour had been close to brotherly. He’d been blind, but not anymore.

Other than their conversation, nothing had changed, while at the same time everything had. Douglas was sure over the last two years they had danced at least a dozen times, yet until she uttered her proposition, he never once considered her as more than a pleasant companion. Now, even watching her watch everyone else was a fascinating task for him.

He’d never noticed how she did not actually participate but rather held herself back, observing, as if she wasn’t part of the group. Did she feel that way? As if she were just an outsider, someone not really accepted, but not a total outcast. Not once had he suspected they had so much in common.

“Your Grace?” Lady Tremount asked.

He turned to find her studying him with jaded interest. He still regretted the affair he’d had with her the year before. When he’d realized she was sitting next to him this evening, he’d almost bolted. Felicia hadn’t taken their breakup very well.

“Lady Tremount.”

“I asked you if you will be attending the Enderlin’s house party next week.”

He stifled a sigh. For the moment at least, Felicia seemed to have forgotten her verbal attack on him. Even though she’d been married for the last decade to Tremount, she’d had numerous affairs, as had her husband. Douglas was only one of the many. When he’d broken off their brief affair, she’d told anyone who would listen what a coldhearted bastard he was. He could have saved her the time. Most people already thought of him that way.

“Excuse me, Lady Tremount. I was lost in my thoughts.”

Her green gaze drifted past him to Cicely, then focused back on his face. Her eyes narrowed menacingly. “That much is evident, Your Grace.”

He didn’t so much as flinch, but his mind was already working hard on deflecting Felicia’s interest. The woman was a barracuda and if she thought his interest lay with Cicely, she’d destroy her without a thought.

He couldn’t have that happen to an innocent, especially one he admired like Cicely. Worry gnawed at his gut.

“I thought of missing it because I wasn’t sure if there would be anyone interesting going.” He leaned closer, knowing the flirtatious smile and the lowering of his voice to intimate tones would excite Felicia. She loved the game. “Of course, if you are going, I might have a reason to change my mind. My duties have kept me busy. A diversion might be welcome.”

As expected, her eyes flared with sexual interest. He hoped the disgust he felt for his former paramour didn’t show on his face.

“Diversions can be fun,” Felicia said.

Smiling, he settled back in his chair, smug with his victory. That is, until he noticed Cicely. She stared at him, her eyes shimmering with a combination of sadness, disappointment and pain. Before he could explain his reasoning, Bridgerton stepped up behind her.

“Lady Cicely.”

She turned to greet Bridgerton and the smile she bestowed upon the earl made Douglas clench his teeth.

“Lord Bridgerton.”

“I wondered if I could have a moment of your time.”

Relief shown in her face. “Oh.” Immediately she rose from her seat and nodded at her companions. “If you will excuse me.”

Everyone bid her goodbye and she left him without a backward glance. Her back was straight, her stride graceful and reserved.

Felicia leaned closer, her flowery perfume turning his stomach. “I never thought Bridgerton would be sniffing around Lady Cicely, but then, who knows what men will do when they feel they must marry. Perhaps the mart has shrunken over the years.”

“I doubt Bridgerton is spending time with Lady Cicely for that reason.

They are sponsoring my cousin’s newest edition to the Ware family line tomorrow.” But even as he said the words, he narrowed his eyes, watching Bridgerton guide Cicely through the crowd and in the direction of the doors. At least he hoped that was the reason. But the worry of that list and her proposition, along with the knowledge that Bridgerton did need to marry, had Douglas worrying.