Ravishing in Red (15 page)

“I will escort you,” he said. “Miss Kelmsleigh, my brother will be glad for your continued company while I am gone, if you would be kind enough to indulge us both.”

“Yes, do stay,” the marquess said. “Tell me about the grape arbor.”

 

 

 

 

“
W
hy is she here?” The question came in a tight, low snap once the door closed behind them.

“She is here because I invited her,” Sebastian said.

“Oh, give me patience. You sound so much like
him
with your sardonic dodges.” She aimed not for her own chambers, but down to the library. There she paced back and forth, shooting him glares of displeasure.

“You have not done anything rash, have you?” she demanded. “It is one thing for you to dally with the daughter of a man exposed the way her father was. It is quite another if you attempt to rectify the indiscretion by—”

“By what?”

She stopped walking and faced him. “It is shocking that you brought her here, inviting more of society’s scorn. She is most unsuitable, in every way. Even without this humiliating scandal, even without her father’s disgrace, she would not do. This is not a situation where honor requires you do the right thing. Furthermore, whatever is between you and this woman must end. Even a continuing liaison will only damage the family and your influence.”

“If I sound so much like
him
, it is because you sound so much like
you
,” Sebastian said. Her criticism of Miss Kelmsleigh annoyed him deeply, more than it ought.

“I only remind you of your duty.”

“I will not tolerate your rudeness to my friends.”

“
Friends!
You count her as a friend now? Is it your goal to vex me to the point of apoplexy?”

“It is my goal to remind you that I am indeed too much like him, and not likely to accept your interference. In that, at least, I have not taken Morgan’s place.”

Her eyes narrowed and her pale face flushed. “As if you could take his place in anything.”

“Of course not. I am not he.”

“That is certain.”

“Your vexation is of your own making, and I will leave you to stew in it now. Fill my brother’s ears with your advice if you choose, but spare mine in the future.”

He left the library and headed back upstairs. His mother had soured his mood more than he cared to admit. They both knew he had, in fact, taken Morgan’s place in many ways. That was the true source of her anger.

And of his own sometimes.

M
organ and Miss Kelmsleigh did not notice him when he opened the door. They were too busy laughing.

The sound was so unnatural to these chambers that Sebastian paused in the threshold.

“It is good to hear my lord making merry.” Fenwood spoke lowly. Sebastian turned to see Fenwood right behind him, craning his neck to look into the library now that the door had been opened.

Morgan’s high spirits transformed him. His face took on color while he guffawed at Miss Kelmsleigh’s joke. He appeared more animated, more alive, than he had in months.

Had merely the presence of a woman done that? Other than their mother and a few servants, no woman had entered this apartment in a very long time.

He stepped back so he could shut the door again, but Morgan noticed him before the retreat was successful. “You did not warn me that Miss Kelmsleigh possessed such a wit, brother.”

He strolled toward them. “I know it to be sharp, that is true. I am jealous that you have been entertained by the cleverness of her tongue. Regrettably, I have only received its lashes.”

“I would share her cleverness, but so often the retelling loses so much,” Morgan said. His eyes actually twinkled while he and Miss Kelmsleigh shared a conspiratorial glance.

“Why do I think the joke was on me?” Sebastian said.

They both laughed again.

“Your company has been as refreshing as a fair day, Miss Kelmsleigh. Promise me that you will call again,” Morgan said.

The suggestion took her aback. “I will try to do so. Thank you,” she said.

She would not try very hard. Sebastian knew that she intended never to come here again.

“I would like you to see the house and garden before you leave. My brother will have to escort you, since I cannot.”

“That is unfortunate, since the day is truly fair and might refresh you all the more. Can you not at least watch from the window while we take a turn in the garden?”

“I suppose I could, now that you mention it. I can be the chaperon watching from on high, and my brother will not have to request my mother’s presence. I will call Dr. Fenwood and have him move me.”

“I will do it,” Sebastian said. With no further ado, he lifted his brother. Only after Morgan’s surprisingly light weight was cradled in his arms did Sebastian consider that moving an invalid marquess in Miss Kelmsleigh’s presence was undignified and inappropriate.

He had done this often enough that Morgan displayed no distress or embarrassment. Nor did Miss Kelmsleigh. She positioned a chair right beside the window and Sebastian set his brother down.

“Open it, please,” Morgan said.

Sebastian could not remember the last time Morgan had risked the chill of fresh air. “Are you sure?”

“Open it.”

Miss Kelmsleigh opened the casement a crack. Sebastian found another of the lap blankets in a chest and draped it over his brother’s shoulders.

“I will send in Fenwood. He will ensure you do not catch a chill,” Sebastian said.

“Do not. He will close the window, even if I agree to wear ten blankets and a fur. Tell him I forbid him to enter for half an hour.”

Sebastian could not find ten blankets, but he located one more, which he tucked around Morgan as well.

Miss Kelmsleigh watched. “I did not intend to endanger your health with my little suggestion.”

“This fresh air is so delicious, I do not care if I suffer a fever later.” He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes while he savored the light breeze. “Off with you both now. You must write and tell me what you think of the garden, Miss Kelmsleigh. Perhaps The Rarest Blooms will have ideas for its improvement.”

 

 

 

 

T
he garden was magnificent, of course. Larger than most country gardens, it even had a little wilderness at its back. Audrianna had learned about garden fashions since living with Daphne, and the meandering paths and informal design of this one said a master planner had laid it out not so long ago.

“What did you think of the house?” Summerhays asked while he paced beside her.

He had given her a tour of the vast library and even larger ballroom. The most interesting chamber had been the circular music room that held an exquisite pianoforte.

“It is most impressive. A more sophisticated woman might not be in awe, but I confess that I am.”

“You do yourself an injustice. You acquit yourself well enough when you choose. My brother is already fond of you, and you did not allow my mother to frighten you.”

So he had noticed that his mother had tried. “She was not pleased by my presence in her impressive house. I think that she was surprised to find me there. I think that your brother was too, and did not ask to meet me at all.”

“Why would you think that? He delighted in your company.” >

“I think that because I asked him and he told me the truth.”

“How like him.” He cast a frown over his shoulder at the face at the high window. “You have found me out. However, he did express sympathy for your plight. It was good for you to meet him, and my mother, and see the house. You should see the life you will have when we marry. The good and the bad.”

When we marry
.

“I did not accept your proposal.”

“You were in shock.”

“It was unexpected, but I was not in shock.”

“You did not comprehend what you were turning down.”

“I did, most clearly.
You
.”

Only she had not truly comprehended. He was correct about that. In showing her this house, this comfort, he had dangled a lure.

He had revealed much more than luxury too, although she did not think he realized it. Seeing him with his mother, his brother—a whole history suddenly existed, and he became more real and human. The way he had lifted his brother, the care he had shown as he fussed with those blankets—it was very hard to think such a man was by nature cruel.

“Miss Kelmsleigh, I want you to reconsider my proposal.”

And she wanted to reject it again, with the same strength and certainty as the last time. Only she could not. His little strategy had worked too well.

“Lord Sebastian, my mother would never countenance such a match, after what happened to my father.”

He glanced over his shoulder, to that window. Then he took her hand and firmly led her down another path that veered around a thick planting of blackthorn. A bench waited there, and he handed her down so she would sit.

“If you tell your mother about my proposal, I think that she will countenance it just fine. She will want the connections, and the financial security, and the position for all of you. It is a rare mother who demands her daughter turn down the brother of a marquess, for any reason.”

“My father—”

“She will convince herself it is your due, and hers, because of that sorrow. She blames me for an injustice, and this helps to rectify some of it. You know that she will find her way to that view. It is why the notion of her being invited here caused you alarm.”

“And my own view?”

“Adopt your mother’s. It is practical at least. There will be no better way, no other way, to make me pay.”

“I will blame you no less after we are wed, even if I think you are paying. Do you not care that this will be poison to what you propose.”

“As you saw, it is a very big house, Miss Kelmsleigh. All of the others are at least as large. You can live your life tolerating my company no more than ten hours a week if you choose. Trust me when I promise that it will be very easy to be married and mostly separate. I have seen it done.”

She could not deny that he made a compelling argument. There would be a type of justice if the man who so hurt her family became the agent of its rise and revival. Marriage would also dull the scandal and provide more security than she had ever hoped to know.

As for the luxury—she tried to resist its lure, but she was human. Images invaded her mind, of gowns she had never worn and balls she had never seen. He had his own boxes at the theaters, certainly, and there would be long, exquisite dinners amid flickering candles and silk and the very best company.

As for those ten hours a week—

Fingers touched her chin and guided her face to the left. No gloves this time, but the unmistakable sensation of masculine skin on hers. The contact startled her out of her reverie.

He sat beside her. His eyes said he knew where her mind had been, and where it was now turning.

“It will be more than tolerable, I promise.”

His lips touched hers, making his reference clear. Under the circumstances, she assessed this kiss in ways she had not the others. After all, she needed to be very sure of what she would be getting in this marriage.

Yes, more than tolerable. Much more. She did not remain objective very long. Still, she noted that his kiss was rather firm and dry, and that the way his hands cradled her head was both sweet and controlling. She vaguely acknowledged that he then embarked on a gentle ravishment of her mouth, but a ravishment all the same. As pleasure started to cascade through her body, she dully considered that it had probably taken him a lot of practice to learn to kiss like this, and admitted that she had been primed for this by his mere presence, which still affected her too much.

Then she thought about nothing at all, except the building cravings that demanded all her attention.

Sinful cravings. Shocking ones. Her body had become more practiced in these things, and offered little resistance. Devilish titillations teased her as if invisible feathers flicked and stroked her body. Her breasts grew heavy, and impatient with the garments binding them.

Floating now, as if her body had lost its grounding. His hard arm encircled her and kept her from blowing away. The embrace brought her to earth too well.

“Your brother—”

“It is well past a half hour since we left him. Fenwood has removed him from the window.”

How careless of the marquess, to leave her unprotected. “Your mother.” Did she even say it? Kisses on her neck had her gasping so she did not know for sure.

“She will be receiving callers now, and we cannot be seen from the drawing room’s windows.”

She tried to remember what she saw when she looked out that window.

His fingertips touched her lips, as if to silence her. Except that was not his intention at all. He coaxed her lips apart. “Yes. Like that.”

That other kind of kiss this time, invasive and intimate. The excitement and pleasure immediately intensified and she lost herself again, and entered a dark place of primal desire.

She did not care when his embrace pulled her closer. She wickedly reveled in the signs of his own passion. She did not object at all when he caressed her breast. She wanted him to. She almost begged him to.

It felt too good. Unearthly. Amazing. Somehow he found a way to touch her so she almost cried out. The pleasure turned sharper and raised a madness in her. A warm throb teased her horribly where she sat, causing a compelling discomfort that fed the frenzy filling her mind.

“Tolerable enough?” His dark voice spoke lowly in her ear while he teased her breasts mercilessly.

She was too preoccupied to even care he had asked some question or other.