Sin and Sensibility (33 page)

He kissed her until she couldn’t breathe, then slowly lifted his head. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?” he murmured, his gaze on her mouth.

“The, um…I…I don’t remember,” she said truthfully.

“You want more than a moment of freedom. I remember that,” he commented, running a thumb along her lower lip.

“Yes. Yes. What I was going to say is that I don’t expect you to provide it. I imagine I’ve tested your charity far enough.”

Valentine shook his head. “It’s not charity, Eleanor. I don’t offer charity. Ever.”

God, she wanted him to kiss her again. “Even so, you—”

“You are a complicated woman,” he muttered, kissing her again, hard and deep. “I want you. If that’s the freedom you have in mind, we’ll find a private place.”

“Here?” she asked, less shocked than she would have expected to be.

Valentine swallowed. Jesus, she would, if he went along with it. And he wanted to, except that too many people would be keeping an eye out for her, and someone would discover them. Melbourne would shoot him, but he was more concerned that Eleanor would be ruined and forced to marry Noleville. Or worse for him, Tracey. He frowned. Someone was going to have to keep their wits about them, and apparently that was him.

“Not here. I’ll find somewhere.”

Sin and Sensibility / 289

“You shouldn’t give me time to consider,” she returned, lifting a hand to brush hair from his forehead.

The gesture made him shiver. “Probably not. But I am.”

She drew a breath, the motion drawing her bodice tight across her chest. “Or is it because you have a prior appointment with Lady Franch?”

He forced a laugh. “No. Actually, I’ve said my fare—”

He stopped himself just before he could admit that he’d voluntarily parted company not only with Lydia, but with every lover he’d had this Season—except for Eleanor.

“I’ve been ordered to stay away from you,” he rephrased.

“I don’t want to have to pummel Shay on principle, and he’s probably already seen us talking.”

“Charlemagne and I are going to have a conversation of our own,” she said stiffly. “My brothers are not to interfere with my social calendar. And out of every man I’ve conversed with, I would say you’re an odd—and dangerous—choice to pick for a fight.”

“Not if he knew the truth,” Valentine pointed out.

She blushed. “But he doesn’t.”

Eleanor tucked her hands behind her back. Valentine noted the gesture with some disappointment. She’d finished with touching him for tonight, then. Pity, that. He felt as though he still had some ground to make up after seeing her chatting with Tracey after the waltz. The major obviously needed to be reminded to honor the rules of competition—whether Valentine had any intention of doing so himself, or not. No monopolizing a chit when other men were lined up to converse with her. He concealed a smile, enjoying every second of the monopolizing he was doing. “So why were you mad at me?”

Glancing past him toward the doorway, she shifted.

“I’m just never sure who you are, Valentine. One moment 290 / Suzanne Enoch

you save my virtue, the next you take it, then you comfort me, and then you insult every member of my sex. Half the time I envy the freedom you have, and the other half I could scream at you for the waste you make of it.”

So it hadn’t been about jealousy. She
had
been disappointed in him, as he’d first suspected. “I’ve spent a long time becoming who I am, Eleanor. Judge me if you like, but I’m seeing some rather amazing similarities between us, lately.”

“I am, as well,” she agreed, not looking as if she felt insulted. “What I’m not certain about, though, is whether I’ve changed, or you have.”

That shook him, mostly because he’d been wondering the same thing himself. Yes, he craved her, and yes, he enjoyed her companionship more than he ever had any other female that he could recall. That didn’t mean he’d changed. It only meant he’d unexpectedly found a friend, and didn’t want to lose her. Of course, even that degree of possessiveness was unlike him, but now wasn’t the time to debate that.

He smiled. “Kiss me or kill me, but don’t ask me any sticky questions.”

“Hm. I’m not certain that’s satisfactory.” Slowly she leaned in and touched her lips to his, soft and brief and taking his breath. “Come and see me tomorrow.”

“I—”

Before he could conjure any more of a reply than that, she swept past him and strolled back into the ballroom.

Something had definitely changed.

“‘Come and see me tomorrow,’” he repeated, trying to sound cynical. That was the sort of thing
he
usually said, enticing a chit into coming to see him when he couldn’t be bothered to make the effort of a seduction. Cynicism was

Sin and Sensibility / 291

difficult, though, when he knew he’d be calling at Griffin House sometime tomorrow—and probably before noon.

The Duke of Melbourne sat cross-legged on the morning room floor, listening to the tale of a rabbit and a very large carrot as read by his daughter. It was the seventeenth time he’d heard the story, but the opportunity to spend the morning with Peep was rare enough that he wouldn’t mind hearing it another eighty or ninety times.

Penelope lowered the book. “How large do carrots actually grow, Papa?” she asked, her brow furrowed.

“Not terribly large,” he returned, craning his neck to look at her seated above and behind him on the couch.

“But keep in mind that the rabbit is rather small.”

She nodded. “Yes, that’s true.”

A scratch came at the door. “Enter,” Sebastian called.

Stanton pushed the door halfway open and leaned in.

“I beg your pardon, Your Grace, but you have a caller.”

He offered a calling card.

The duke ignored it. “Who is it?”

“A Mr. Stephen Cobb-Harding, Your Grace.”

Hm. He hadn’t heard that name mentioned in a while.

In fact, Cobb-Harding had seemed to drop rather abruptly off the face of Nell’s map. “Show him to my office. I’ll be there in a moment.”

“Very good, Your Grace.”

Peep clambered off the couch to her feet. “Remember, Papa, if he’s one of Aunt Nell’s suitors, you’re not to speak to him.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he returned, pulling himself upright as well. “I’ll be back shortly. Hopefully we’ll have time to finish the story before my meeting.”

“Yes. I have some more questions about carrots, too.”

292 / Suzanne Enoch

Sebastian sent his daughter upstairs into the care of her governess, then made his way to his office. As he pushed the door open, Stephen Cobb-Harding bounced to his feet from the chair in which he’d been reclining.

“Good morning, Your Grace. Thank you for seeing me.”

“Have a seat, Mr. Cobb-Harding,” Sebastian returned, gesturing. He sank into the chair behind his desk. “What might I do for you?”

“I actually think that what I have to say will be to our mutual benefit.”

The duke reflected that, apt as Peep’s warning about Nell’s suitors had been, if not for Cobb-Harding’s association with his sister, the lout would never have been granted an audience at all. He nodded. “I’m listening.”

“I couldn’t help noticing a certain…distance in your family’s dealings with Lord Deverill last night. Given that fact, and considering the delicate nature of the information I’m about to impart, I would be grateful for your understanding.”

Cobb-Harding seemed to flap his lips a great deal, and as yet he’d managed to say absolutely nothing. Stifling his annoyance, Melbourne nodded again. “I do have a meeting this morning, if you’d care to proceed.”

“Yes, of course.” Cobb-Harding cleared his throat. “Lord Deverill has been attempting to blackmail me.”

Well. Obviously he needed to acquire some better sources of information, Sebastian decided. “And what do you wish me to do about that?”

Cobb-Harding was silent for a moment, as though taken aback by Sebastian’s lack of concern over his pronouncement. “I will be frank with you, Your Grace,” he said finally. “A few weeks ago your sister accompanied me to a soiree. A soiree hosted by Lord Belmont.”

Sin and Sensibility / 293

Sebastian curled his fingers into the mahogany edge of his desk. “Yes?”

“Yes. I wanted to attend the Hampton Ball, but she insisted that Belmont’s would be more to her taste. Once there, I’m ashamed to say that we engaged in a mutual indiscretion. I, of course, immediately offered to do the honorable thing and take Lady Eleanor’s hand in marriage, but Lord Deverill interfered, attacking me and then threatening to bankrupt me if I revealed a word of your sister’s behavior to anyone.”

“I see.” As he sat listening, Melbourne wondered whether Cobb-Harding had any idea just how much peril he was in. But the duke had long ago learned the virtues of patience, and so he remained in his chair. “Go on, if you please.”

Apparently encouraged by the duke’s seeming interest, Cobb-Harding sat forward. “Yes. With you and Deverill on the outs, I fear there is nothing to prevent someone from revealing your sister’s scandalous behavior to the world at large. So I have come forward both to inform you first, and to once again offer to join my name to that of the Griffins and ensure that Lady Eleanor is not ruined.”

“So your marriage to my sister will dissuade you from speaking of her alleged indiscretion.”

“And it will protect her from Deverill if he should seek revenge on you by revealing the same.”

Melbourne looked at him for a moment. Cobb-Harding obviously had no idea of the depth of the friendship between Deverill and himself—and thank God for that.

Whatever happened, however, Valentine had some serious explaining to do. And so did Eleanor.

“Mr. Cobb-Harding, I presume there are no other witnesses save you and Deverill?”

294 / Suzanne Enoch

“And a few guests who would only need a word to complete the puzzle. And Lady Eleanor, of course. Though I would call her a participant rather than a witness.”

That was enough of that
. “And what I would call you, I won’t say in this house. Get up, and leave. You have one minute to be gone from my front drive.”

Cobb-Harding blinked. “I beg your pardon? I came here with the idea of making a mutually beneficial match.

I am saving your sister’s—and your family’s—reputation.”

“You are attempting your own breed of blackmail.

Unfortunately for you, however, you’re an idiot.”

“But I—”

“You what, Mr. Cobb-Harding? You’ll ruin my sister if I refuse your kind offer? Whatever Deverill has been doing to ensure your silence doesn’t even begin to describe what I will do to you if you ever speak one word of this nonsense to anyone.
Anyone
.”

He rose, and Cobb-Harding scrambled out of his own seat and around the back of the chair. “I will not be spoken to in this manner. I have proof, and I will use it if you force me to.”

“What proof could you possibly have of such a lie?”

“I can describe your sister’s breasts to perfec—”

Melbourne grabbed him by the throat, shoving him backward toward the door. “You forget yourself, sir,” he said, using every ounce of hard-won self-control to keep his voice calm and quiet and steady. “I applaud your attempt to better your standing, but I will not tolerate your doing so at my family’s expense.” He bent his elbow, bringing his face to within inches of Cobb-Harding’s. “Do I make myself clear?”

Cobb-Harding squeaked, his fingers grasping at the duke’s. “Perfectly,” he rasped.

Sin and Sensibility / 295

With his free hand Sebastian opened the door. Still gripping Cobb-Harding’s throat, he backed the shorter man toward the front door. Stanton, his face an immobile mask, pulled open the door and stood aside while Melbourne shoved. Staggering backward, Cobb-Harding stumbled down the shallow steps to the drive.

“Good day, Mr. Cobb-Harding,” the duke said, nodding.

“Well done, Your Grace,” Stanton commented, closing the door again with a thud.

“Get Charlemagne and Zachary,” Sebastian rumbled, his temper beginning to flare past his hard control. “Now.”

Not uttering a word, the butler turned and ran up the stairs. A moment later both of his brothers, one of them holding a newspaper and the other half dressed, emerged onto the balcony.

“What is it, Melbourne?” Shay asked.

“Down here,” he returned. “I am not going to shout.”

Obviously sensing that something was amiss, they hurried down to the foyer. “What happened?”

“Find me the Marquis of Deverill,” Melbourne murmured. “I don’t care where he is, or what or who he’s doing. I want him here by the top of the hour.”

They glanced at one another, then Shay handed the newspaper over to the panting butler and headed for the front door. Zachary turned back for the stairs. “I’ll finish dressing and help him out.”

“Is Eleanor still here?”

“Yes. She has a few hopefuls waiting in the sitting room.

I think she was going on a pic—”

“Send them away. Keep her here.”

“But what about your agreement with her, Mel—”

The duke jabbed his youngest brother in the shoulder.

“Keep her here. And you are not to tell her anything.”

296 / Suzanne Enoch

“I don’t know anything.”

“You will. I just hope we’re the only ones who do.

Damnation.” Still cursing, he strode back into his office and slammed the door. His little agreement with Eleanor had just ended.

“Who’s in the gaggle this morning?” Eleanor asked, seeing Zachary lounging at the head of the stairs. She finished pulling on her lace gloves as she joined him.

“Come down and wait with me,” he said, straightening.

“Wait with you? For what? I’m going on a picnic. Or perhaps shopping. I haven’t decided yet. It depends on who I have to choose from.” It was beginning to be fun, having this amount of power—especially after Valentine’s kiss last night. For the first time she’d realized that she had some power over him, as well. The euphoria of that moment still kept her feet several inches above the floor.

Of course if she had only the likes of Francis Henning or Howard Fanner waiting to escort her, she was likely to land on the floor with a thud. But even that couldn’t depress her overly much; Valentine would be calling sometime today. Of that she was certain.