Perilous Risk (3 page)

“How long before?”

“Before I knew you.”

“Tell me.”

“Stephen was a corporal in Donald’s regiment, before we were transferred to yours.”

“And you were lovers?”

“No! Goodness, he was just a boy.”

He raised his brows and gave her a sceptical look. “Now Becky, remember that you’re speaking to me. You can tell me anything. I will not judge.”

Her cheeks flamed. She took a deep breath and struggled for composure. “I mean he was really a boy, eighteen. He used to try and teach me how to play chess.”

“I see.” Amusement glinted in his eyes. The first lightening of his mood since he’d arrived at Eastwood Place.

But she couldn’t find ease in it. Now she felt in a prickly mood herself. “What do you see?”

“He was in love with you.”

“I don’t think so.” She shook her head in firm refusal.

“He would have had to have been, to have the patience to try to teach you chess.”

Jon’s dry tone burnt her ears and forced a rueful grin from her. “Eighteen is too young for love. At least for a boy. They want adventure, not love.”

“Well, he’s no longer a boy.”

Yes, that was the problem, wasn’t it? The change in him was disconcerting. Stephen had been such a warm, open-hearted boy. He had changed. His new quiet, mysterious air fascinated her. There was a sense of danger about him. It excited her, she couldn’t deny it.

And that was the most disconcerting change of all.

“Well, well, this is no commonplace attraction, is it?”

Jon’s continued insistence surprised her. “You have never suspected me before.”

He laughed in that soft, steely way that made her shiver. “A man always suspects a woman.”

“Well, then, you have never been so open in your suspicions.”

“You have never been so secretive with me.”

Her face flamed hotter than before. What he said was true. But why had she been driven to hide her attraction for Stephen Drake? She’d always been honest with Jon about her feelings for other men. She wasn’t forbidden to flirt, she just had to have his permission first. Jon had to know and approve of everything. Yet this time, somehow, her interest in this man seemed like a betrayal.

“Why all this sudden bashfulness?” He regarded her for a few moments. Warmly. Deeply. “Becky, I’ve told you before. I don’t wish to be unfair to you or to limit your freedoms without due cause. However, gentlemen can truly be bullies to good little wenches like you.”

She nodded. She knew he was thinking of men like his grandfather, the former earl. A man who had used his position and power to prey on women sexually. Jon took her hand. “And if it appeared that you were completely free to do as you please, that you did not have a protector looking out for you, it could be unpleasant or even dangerous for you.”

“Yes, I know.” And she did feel safer knowing he was looking out for her. She was grateful for his protection. She did not wish to be free to do as she pleased. She liked for Jon to be the one in control of her carnal activities.

“If I am to protect you, then I need to know everything that occurs between you and other men.” He tapped on her hand. “So you tell me exactly what lies between the two of you.”

“Nothing happened between us, in the past—or over the past few days.”

“But you do fancy him?”

Now that the truth was out, everything suddenly changed. The way Jon spoke of it placed the situation into perspective, as he was so good at doing for her. How silly she had been over this whole matter. It was no different from Jon’s pursuing his grand ladies. She simply fancied Stephen. It was no great thing. Jon would always do what he could to see her fancies were fulfilled. Excitement pulsed in her stomach. She dared a glace back at the wingchair in the corner.

Stephen was still staring at her. Her heart faltered on the next beat and her stomach seemed to go all quivery.

Jon laughed softly. “You really do fancy that sober-faced prig?”

She turned her gaze back to Jon and gaped at him. “Prig?”

“He’s a prig.”

“Please, Jon, don’t be so mean-spirited.”

“Ah, such tender sympathy.” He mimicked her softer tone.

“He was always kind to me.”

“All the boys are always so kind to you. And you are always so attracted by their kindness.”

“Certainly the same cannot be said of my attraction to you.”

“I am kind to you.”

The subtle note of hurt in his tone brought her attention back to his face.

“You are generous—more than generous with your money. And kind in your way, yes, that too. But you’ve been cross with me lately.”

“I haven’t been cross. And I have come out of my way to spend this night with you, yet you cannot keep your eyes off all the other, younger, prettier boys.”

“Jon!” She blushed hotly. But what could she say? Even Jon was six years her junior. But Stephen Drake was eight years younger than she. Surely that wasn’t decent?

Jon sighed with exaggerated affect. “Good God, Becky, what’s happened to your taste? He looks deadly dull.”

“Dull?”

“Yes, dull. He’s attending an orgy and he’s sitting in the corner, frowning over a chessboard. He’s a pedant.”

She glanced over, met those burning dark eyes once more and felt the catch in her heart’s beat. Heavens, he was so fascinating. She didn’t quite understand it.

“He is very well made.” It was the only defence she could muster.

“It would be enjoyable to watch such a prig come undone. Shall I invite him to our chamber?”

She caught her breath.

“That interests you, does it?” He caressed her nape with his fingertips.

Anticipation sparked through her and she shuddered. This was the Jon she knew so well. The one who made her feel girlish and free. As though nothing unpleasant could touch her.

He traced her earlobe. “Do you want that?”

Yes, God, yes. She did want that. And she wouldn’t have to do a thing but let Jon take care of all the details. And if the man got himself out of hand, Jon would be there to protect her. If, once in the bedchamber, she became too shy, he would order her to do all the things that he knew aroused her most when with a man.

And if Stephen were too young for her, if her attraction to him were truly indecent, then Jon wouldn’t have suggested this. He had her best interests in mind, always. And in his lusty twenties, Jon had bedded ladies well over a decade his senior.

Yes, she never had to worry if she ought to be ashamed or if she should demur. She had simply to obey. Jon was in control and he made it all so easy. And so exciting. With Jon, she was free in a way she’d never been before he had come into her life.

She was the luckiest of women. Tonight, she would be with the man she loved above all others and she would also experience the man who fascinated her.

Jon touched her shoulder and gave it a little squeeze. “On with you now, go ask your stuffy looking prig to come here.” His breath caught slightly with his understated chuckle. “Tell him I’d like to play a game of chess.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Certainly you can.”

“No, you don’t understand. I rejected his advances.”

Jon’s hand tensed on her shoulder. “Ah, so he made advances to you?”

“Yes.” She forced the reply past the sudden tightness in her throat.

“And you said no?”

She nodded.

“Without hesitation?”

“Of course.” She choked the words out.

“Good girl.”

Relief flooded her. He still trusted her. Things between them were just as they should be.

He gave her a gentle push. “Go on, now.”

She stood and wavered a moment on legs that shook both from nervousness and excitement.

Stephen Drake’s eyes widened as she approached him. But he said nothing, just continued to stare at her.

“Lord Ruel would like for you to join us over there.” She nodded back towards Jon’s wingchair.

At Stephen’s continued silence, equal parts apprehension and anticipation fluttered through her stomach, weakened her legs and tingled into her toes. A little gush of nervous laughter threatened to come spilling out. She swallowed it back, yet all the while she couldn’t help but flutter her lashes at him. Damn. It didn’t help a bit. His expression didn’t ease.

She cleared her throat delicately. “He would like to have a word with you.”

“Would he really?” He spoke in a hushed tone and that faintly husky, deep voice settled over her like clotted cream on warm peaches. The hoarseness was something new, something that had come to him in the years since she had known him as a boy. She had asked him about it yesterday, and he had answered that he’d had a “tricky mishap during an archery contest.”

He’d been lying, she saw it in his eyes.

“Yes, he-he would like to discuss chess,” she said softly, her breath coming in little catches.

His expression remained guarded, slightly aloof.

She began to feel foolish.

He turned to his companion. “It seems my attention is requested elsewhere.”

His chess partner nodded.

Stephen stood.

A thrill passed from deep in her belly down to her toes. His tall, broad-shouldered body seemed even more imposing in his dark evening clothes. As an eighteen-year-old boy, he’d been gawky, gangly, overly slender. He had never before inspired even the flicker of an impure thought in her mind.

But oh, how things had changed since then!

Now his long limbs were leanly muscled and he moved with effortless, cat-like grace. He gave the bottom of his pale-grey silk waistcoat a tug down and the action drew her notice to his flat stomach and incredibly narrow hips.

Earlier today, when he had first made his declarations and pressed his advances upon her on the terrace, before she had run for the gardens, she had seen the straining of his erection delineated against the buff trousers he’d been wearing. It had made her sorry that tight pantaloons were no longer the fashion.

She glanced up at his face. His expression had warmed a bit. Encouraged by that, she didn’t pretend to be abashed at her admiration of his form but instead gave him a smile. She ran her fingertips over the lace on her bodice and was rewarded when his gaze dropped and his pupils dilated. Her breath quickened and her nipples drew into tight points.

She offered him her hand. “Come, my lord wishes to speak with you.”

Somehow the electricity crackling between them went flat. He didn’t take her hand. Tightness entered her chest. But she began walking back to Jon and Stephen followed.

Stephen sat where Kean had been. After making the proper introductions, she resumed her place at Jon’s feet. A servant refreshed their drinks.

Jon attempted to engage Stephen in talk of the Dragoons, horses, dogs, chess and finally even cards, something Jon had no real interest in. Yet Stephen continued to answer in polite, non-committal answers.

“So, Mr Drake, in my absence, you made advances to my mistress?” Jon said.

His bluntness made Rebecca cringe. Hesitantly, she glanced up through her lashes and saw Stephen set his drink down.

She expected him to throw her an accusatory glare.

He kept looking straight at Jon. “I did,” he said in a calm tone. “Do you desire satisfaction for that, my lord?”

Jon chuckled. “No, I don’t blame you for trying. Mrs Howland is a lovely woman.”

“She’s a
beautiful
woman,” Stephen said, sounding as though he were a schoolmaster correcting a laggard student.

Jon flashed her an amused look.

Rebecca caught her breath and heat flamed over her face.

Jon chuckled and turned back to Stephen. “Yes, she is indeed a beautiful woman. On that point, we are agreed.”

Her heart rate increased with excitement and apprehension so much that she didn’t hear Jon’s smoothly spoken invitation to the younger man, though she’d seen his lips moving and could imagine an approximation of his words. Jon could make the most outrageous suggestion or invitation sound perfectly reasonable. She didn’t know how to do that. However, he could and he had created the most interesting and adventurous experiences for both of them.

But none of those experiences had invigorated her as much as the promise of tonight. She took several deep breaths and the drumming of blood in her ears lessened.

Stephen stood and he remained silent. Staring at her.

“Ruel, a word for a moment.”

At the sound of Kean’s voice, Rebecca looked up and saw him approaching with two other gentlemen. They looked serious, it must be about horses or gambling. Jon touched her on the shoulder, softly, indicating that he intended to rise. She stood and watched him step a pace away with Kean and the other gentlemen.

She turned back to Stephen.

He raked her from head to foot with his gaze. Then he looked her directly in the eye. “No.”