Sweeter Than Sin (20 page)

"True," Rafael conceded.

"Once we've left you alone with Kyra, it's your mission to press on and win her trust. We'll guard the flanks, but it's you who must win that victory," went on Jack. "The ladies in Spain seem to think you have a very romantic soul—it's time to wield those flowery words with the same skill as you wield your saber.

"I am counting more on the box of chocolate confections I have under my arm to loosen Kyra's tongue."

His cousin flashed a grin. "All's fair in love and war."

Quickening his stride, Jack caught up to the butler, and after dismissing him with a jovial wave, pushed open the parlor door and entered the room. "I hope you ladies don't mind if we join you," he announced grandly. "My cousin and I are famished from our walk, and we were informed that refreshments are being served here."

"You both are always welcome guests," answered Kyra. "Though perhaps I should ring for an extra platter of cream tarts."

"No need," said Rafael, following at a more measured pace. "I've brought chocolate."

Harriet flicked at her skirts and patted the sofa cushion. "Well then, do come sit beside me, sir."

"How quickly my wit and charm are forgotten," exclaimed Jack in mock dismay.

"Sweet as they are, wit and charm don't hold a candle to confections," quipped Harriet. "And I have heard that these particular creations are very special, indeed."

"Alas, even I have to admit that Rafe's culinary skills cast me in the shade." Jack quickly took charge of making all the formal introductions, and then dropped into a sprawling slouch in one of the armchairs. "There, now we need not stand on ceremony."

Rafael caught Kyra's eye, and her shy smile made his heart lurch up against his ribs.

Love might stalk a man on silent, light-as-air cat's paws, but when it pounced, it hit one with the muscled force of a full-grown lion. He sat down rather quickly on the spot indicated, surprised to find that his pulse was thudding erratically.

"Kyra has been waxing poetic about you, Mr. Greeley," began Harriet.

"And your chocolate recipes," interjected Kyra hastily, a blush ridging her cheekbones.

"Dare I hope we shall be treated to a taste of them?" asked Theo.

"But of course," answered Rafael. "I am always happy to share the fruits of my labor in the kitchen with friends." He settled the box on his lap. "Though I suggest we save them for after the main refreshments."

"Anticipation makes most things sweeter," murmured Harriet.

Rafael immediately warmed to her pithy humor. Jack's confidence in his friend appeared well-placed. She radiated a calm strength, and he sensed she could be counted on in a crisis.

Once tea was dispensed and the plates of pastries from the duke's kitchens passed around, the conversation turned to gardens and art. His respect increased as he listened to both Harriet and Theo express thoughtful opinions. And as he watched Kyra relax and join the animated discussion, he gave silent thanks for the power of laughter and friendship.

Now, it was up to him to prove love was an even more powerful force.

Brushing the last crumbs from her fingertips, Harriet leaned back and eyed the box of chocolates expectantly. "Mr. Greeley, I think you have kept us in suspense long enough. I'm always interested in experiencing new things, and I have never tasted edible chocolate before."

Theo nodded her assent. "Nor have I. Indeed, I have never even heard of it being possible."

"I warn you, don't get Mr. Greeley started on its history unless you wish to stay for supper," teased Kyra.

"I do tend to become a prosy bore on the subject," he replied.

"Oh, not at all," she protested. "It's absolutely fascinating, but as the story begins back in the time of the Aztec Empire, it might be best to wait and make it an evening's entertainment."

"Perhaps we could gather in the kitchen and watch you cook as you regale us with its lore and legends," suggested Harriet.

Theo clapped her hands together. "What a splendid idea!"

"I agree," said Kyra. "You make it come alive."

There was a sparkling intensity to her eyes, the nuanced hues rich and vibrant, in contrast to the dull flatness of their first few meetings. Never would he allow her to be robbed of that vitality again. She deserved light and laughter, not darkness and despair.

"We shall arrange such an evening," answered Rafael. "But be forewarned that I may put you work helping to prepare the ingredients."

"Having traveled to some far more primitive places that the mansions of Mayfair, I am no stranger to cooking," replied Harriet.

"Nor am I," added Theo. "It may surprise you gentlemen, but we ladies acquire a variety of practical skills in our dealings with estate tenants."

Rafael was fast learning not to underestimate the mettle of the cosseted, sheltered daughters of the
beau monde
. The delicate frills and fluttery ribbons often hid a sharp intellect and a spine of steel.

"My grandmother was extraordinarily accomplished in a great many fields, so I assure you, I am not surprised by how capable you are." He lifted the lid from the box of chocolates. "So I propose a toast of sorts. I have fashioned these confections with a center of buttercream flavored with champagne."

Three feminine sighs sounded in unison.

"You really must teach me how to make those," quipped Jack. "It seems that a gentleman needs only chocolate to make himself irresistible."

"You will need more than sugar and spices to make your sharp-tongued humor palatable to the ladies," shot back Rafael.

His cousin grinned. "I'm willing to take my chances."

"You two may trade barbs, but while you do..." Kyra rose and scooped up the box from his lap. "We ever-practical ladies will feast on these treats." A wink to her new friends. "We may leave you a taste if you behave."

"No promises," interjected Harriet as Kyra offered her the selection of sweets. She took one of the nut-brown balls and popped it into her mouth. Her eyes closed, and for several moments there was silence.

Rafael shifted in his seat. Perhaps the wine was not such an inspired choice after all. Had it soured—

His worries were cut short by a blissful purr.

"That," announced Harriet with a dreamy smile, "is absolutely divine."

Theo quickly helped herself to one, followed by Kyra.

"You will made some lucky lady
very
happy, sir," went on Harriet.

"Sorry." Kyra cleared her sudden sputter with a cough. "A piece of walnut caught in my throat."

"As you see, I need your help to make them just perfect." Rafael turned to the others. "Lady Kyra is a dab hand at mincing nuts."

"Lady Kyra possesses a number of exquisite talents," replied Harriet.

Two hot spots of color blossomed on Kyra's cheeks.

"She does," he said softly. "In any number of ways."

"Let us not wax too lyrical. She has her faults, as I know well." Jack took two confections and casually gobbled them down in one quick swallow. "She can be maddeningly impetuous and stubborn."

Kyra huffed an aggrieved protest.

He grinned. "But I adore her all the same."

As he reached for another chocolate, she caught his hand. "Feeding you Mr. Greeley's creations are akin to casting pearls before swine. They are meant to be savored, like fine wine or vintage brandy."

"Oh, there's an excellent idea. Next time, do try brandy, cuz. Fire is even more potent than fizz."

"I think the ladies appreciate a more subtle mix of flavors," pointed out Rafael.

"Quite likely," replied Jack. "Clearly you understand the feminine mind better than I do."

Harriet let out a low snort. "True. Otherwise you would not have eaten the last confection."

Rising, Jack made a show of flexing his lanky limbs. "On that note, perhaps it's time to take my leave. My sterling qualities seem cast in the shade by my cousin's unique talents."

"You are not without your own charms," responded Harriet, as she gathered her skirts and rose gracefully from the sofa cushions. "And we shall allow you to regale us with them during the carriage ride back to Northfield, if you so wish."

"Speak for yourself," said Theo. "Though I may be coaxed into forgiving you for snatching the last bit of champagne buttercream if you promise to ask me to dance at your homecoming ball. I usually spend all my time sitting with the matrons, and for once I would like to twirl across the polished parquet in the arms of a dashing gentleman."

Capable of faultless manners when he so chose, Jack swept into a gallant bow. "Consider yourself claimed for first waltz."

"And the second," added Rafael. "That is, if you don't mind dodging my clumsy steps. I warn you, I don't dance well, so there is a good chance you'll be nursing sore toes by the time the music has ended."

Theo turned shell pink. "I did not mean to sound so encroaching, sirs! The waltzes are the highlight of the ball and should be saved—"

"For the most interesting, alluring ladies of our acquaintance," interrupted Rafael. "Please don't say no. Or we won't have the courage to ask Miss Farnum or Lady Kyra as well."

"I, um... yes," stammered Theo. "If you put it that way."

"Excellent! That settles it," exclaimed Jack. "The three of you must consider yourselves engaged to stand up with us, and we shall not allow you to fob us off for another of your many admirers."

"Very well," said Harriet dryly. "We shall beat them off with a stick." Turning to Rafael, she asked, "Do you wish to come along with us in the carriage, sir?"

"No, no, my cousin has some artistic matters he wishes to discuss with Kyra," replied Jack smoothly before he could answer. "Chocolate, art..." A sly wink. "Poetry."

"Sounds like a very interesting conversation," murmured Harriet.

"So come along, ladies." A quick wave urged his two companions toward the door. "Let us be on our way." After a flurry of farewells, the trio took their leave, and in short order, the echo of their steps in the corridor faded to silence.

* * *

"Poetry?" inquired Kyra.

Rafael's face went through a series of odd little contortions. "You know Jack. He often enjoys stirring the coals and bringing the pot to a bubble."

"Ah." She couldn't resist a little teasing of her own. "So you
do
wish to talk about cooking?"

"Not really." He shifted, and the sunlight hung for a moment on his lashes, lighting the flecks of sapphire in his sea-dark eyes.

A clench of longing squeezed at her chest.

"Though I do hope you enjoyed the confections," he went on. "The idea came to me on a whim."

"Artistic inspiration often does," she replied. "They were sublime."
You are sublime, though I shouldn't dare think it, and most assuredly shouldn't dare say it.
"I do hope you wrote down the recipe."

"I did." His expression turned more serious. "As for my next words, I haven't made any notes, so they may not turn out quite as well."

Kyra waited warily for him to continue.

"The fact is, I have a favor to ask of you."

His tentative half smile, a subtle curl of his sensuous lips, made her bones feel as if they were made of butter.
Warm butter.
She looked away, trying not to let her resolve melt. "Yes?"

He closed the distance between them with two swift steps. The heat of him prickled against her skin. "I would like for you to trust me with whatever secret you are hiding."

Impossible.

"You've asked that before," she answered softly.

"And I will ask it again, and again, until you agree." He reached out and gently tilted up her chin. "I am a very stubborn fellow."

"I... I can't."

"You can. But you won't." His smile became more pronounced. "My English is still a little rusty, but I do know the difference between those two words."

In that instant, Kyra would have gladly journeyed to Hell and back if he had asked it of her. But this...

"It's too shameful," she whispered. It was one thing to confess Matherton's threat. But the heart of her former fiancé's hold over her was something more elemental, and she knew she couldn't bear to be anything less than honest with Rafael about it.

"We all do things that we regret,
querida
. There is nothing shameful in that. It simply means we are human, and far from perfect."

"The rumors are true," she blurted out. "I am a... a broken vessel?"

Rafael made a show of studying her face, which only made her flesh take on a hotter burn. She was sure she must be glowing scarlet—an apt hue for a wanton jade.

"How strange," he murmured. "I see no cracks or chips."

"It's not a jest, sir."

"It wasn't meant as one."

She hitched in a breath, and then, having no idea how to respond, let it out in a ragged sigh.

"If you are ruined, then so am I." A glint of humor rippled through his gaze. "And, I daresay, so are a great many more people than we might imagine."