Wildfire Kiss (16 page)

He sighed and came to grips with himself. This was
utterly frustrating—everything about Lady Babs was frustrating—but
eventually the Waverlys would arrive. After all, where could they
be?

They had leased a house, and that house (he had
checked) was in readiness for their arrival. The staff hadn’t a
clue, however, when that might be, as they had already been
expected to do so.

He stood and paced over his Oriental rug. He knew he
was obsessed, and he knew that wasn’t healthy. Yet—he couldn’t do
anything to stop his obsession. He wanted her to the point of
distraction.

He could not, would not be beaten in this.

She needed a set down—and by all that was holy, he
was just the man to give it to her!

He moved towards his window and saw that his man had
arrived and was already skipping up the steps of his lodgings.
Good.

He stood, his hands clasped at his back as he waited
for the study door to open and his man to enter.

“Sir?” His gentleman’s gentleman, Jeffry, was
breathless as he timidly stuck his head into the salon.

“Come in, come in, don’t dawdle!” Sir Edward
snapped.

“Yes, sir,” Jeffry answered.

“Well—what have you discovered?” Sir Edward inquired
impatiently.

“Backtracked, sir … and discovered from an
acquaintance of mine that the entire Waverly family have stopped at
the Red Lion and are looking after a sick friend.”

“A sick friend? Who could that be?”

“My friend didn’t know more than that, sir.”

Sir Edward went thoughtful but dug into his pocket,
found a coin, and placed it in his servant’s hand. “Good man,
Jeffry… at least I know what is towards, good man.”

Jeffry bowed himself out, and Sir Edward pulled at
his lower lip. A sick friend, eh? Well, that was excusable and not
some whim of Lady Barbara’s that took them astray. Fine. Perhaps he
would just enjoy himself, as Brighton was already full with the
fashionables of his set, and await her arrival. Perhaps?

It would be difficult, though, for he dearly wanted
to show her once and for all that there was no fighting it.
She
was meant for him.

***

Sir Frederick watched his friend pace and grinned.
“Shall I tell you what is wrong with you, ‘ol’ man’?”

“Go to hell,” replied the duke with the greatest
affection.

“I might yet do that, but then again, who knows, me
thinks I might yet be saved by an angel.” Sir Frederick sighed
sweetly, and then added, “As you might yet be.”

“Me? Looks like now I am on a direct path …”
The duke sighed, sitting. “I have to find a way to talk to
her … and she won’t, you know … talk to me, that is.”

“Why not?”

“Damn if I know.” The duke shook his head. “Women
are the strangest creatures alive. One minute smiles and giggles
and the next ice and hard stares.” He sighed heavily. “No doubt it
is no more than I deserve, cad that I am …”

“Cad? You? Never. You are the best of the best,”
scoffed Sir Frederick, staring at his friend. “What is all
this?”

“Naught, pay me no mind.”

“Aye, and so I would not … but, Nick …
your soul … it is right where it has always been, in that
great big heart of yours.”

“Afraid the devil has a hold of it now …” The
duke had been giving himself a beating since the afternoon before,
when he’d taken his beloved’s innocence from her. He should have
told her at once that he adored her, but he had it in mind to tell
her father first and ask for the right to her hand. Now look where
such niceties had gotten him. She thought him a rake of the worst
sort … and he was. He was experienced and should not have
given in to his lust. He had come by really to catch a glimpse of
her last evening, and she had been holed up in her room. And today,
she had cold-shouldered him on her way out to ride just as he
arrived.

Perhaps the best thing he could do was give it
time?

Sir Frederick sighed and said dreamily, “She—I think
she loves me … I can’t be certain, but I have great
hopes.”

The duke rounded on his injured friend, danger in
his blue eyes. “I did not know you had a
tendre
for Lady
Babs!”

“Lady Babs?
What?
No, you fool … Miss
Bretton. My heart belongs to Miss Bretton.”

The duke grinned broadly. “Then I wish you all the
luck in the world.”

“Aye, I declared myself, you see.”

“Without first applying for her hand … to Lord
Waverly or Lady Jane?” The duke was surprised.

“I’ll do that, but I first wanted to know …
wanted her to know how I felt …”

The duke became thoughtful. “You know, Freddy …
you are a far more clever man than I.”

Sir Frederick ignored this, as his mind seemed
locked on a problem, and he said, “The trouble is … I don’t
want her to hear rumors about me and not understand the
facts … but I am so afraid that after I tell her, she won’t
want me any longer.”

“Don’t be a dunce.” The duke snorted. “Miss Bretton
has a very sound head on her shoulders.”

It was at this point that the lady in question
appeared and poked her head in the doorway to say, “Good afternoon,
your grace … How is our patient doing this afternoon?”

A moment later, the duke was taking his leave of his
friend and smiling to himself at the glances Freddy and Miss
Bretton shot one another. He shook his head and sighed.

He took the last step and thought to go into the
galley for a pint when he bumped into the Lady Babs. He was aware
that she caught a small, distressed sound in her throat as he
touched her shoulders, only to steady her. He immediately dropped
his hands.

“Babs … I would like to speak with
you …”

“I am afraid I cannot. I am promised to Lady
Jane … I have to hold her silks for her while she puts the
final touches to her embroidery,” Babs said, rushing off.

He reached out and held her upper arm. “Babs …
sweet … don’ t go …”

“I am sorry,” she said as she pulled away from his
hand and hurried out of sight.

He looked after her, uncertain what next his course
of action should be.

***

If he loved her, Babs thought, if he wanted her not
to hurt, he would have chased after her and made his feelings
known. He did not do so; therefore, she could only draw one
conclusion. He only wanted to tell her ‘how sorry’ he was. He was a
gentleman and no doubt felt guilty. She didn’t want that from
him.

She hurried outside and stomped towards a path,
determined to walk off the hurt in her aching heart. This was not
how she’d envisioned the aftermath of their lovemaking.
This was
reality
. She had thought it could only turn out one way, but
this was where the growing up and taking responsibility for her
impulsive actions was going to take her.

Yes, the Godwin woman had a theory, and she supposed
it worked very well in theory, but life didn’t always adhere to
what ‘should be’.

And as though to give truth to the word, she looked
up and saw none other than Sir Edward trotting his bay towards her
and smiling as though he had just won first prize. At that moment,
she wanted to wave a wand and vanish.

He jumped athletically off his horse, in high
spirits, and led the horse forward as she tried to force a polite
smile. “Why … Sir Edward … what brings you here?”

“You,” he said softly. “I was in Brighton, and when
I heard that you were looking after a sick friend, I immediately
called for my horse yesterday and began the journey.”

“Oh … you shouldn’t have … I expect we
will be leaving here any day now …” What the devil was she
going to do? She was in no mood to deal with him.

“I had to see for myself that you were well …
and I missed you.” His words rang true, and she felt herself
blush.

She had to stop him. “Sir Edward …” she
started.

“Ned, do call me Ned,” he said softly.

“Ned then … I think that we should not be out
here alone like this.” She tried to appeal to his sense of
propriety.

“Nevertheless, here we are, and here we must remain
for a few moments longer, for I have something to say to you in
private.”

She took a long drag of air. “And shall I be safe
alone out here in your company?” she teased, hoping to lighten the
tone.

He laughed. “You are safe in no red-blooded man’s
company. However, if you think I may lay hands on your against your
will, rest easy. I shan’t.”

She felt a wave of relief, for she did not totally
trust Sir Edward. Something about him suggested he would stop at
nothing to get what he wanted.

Appearing bent on making her feel easy, he chatted
idly for a moment about the regent and town affairs, at which point
he shook his head and said, “The Prince Regent’s latest scandal
will end badly. He will go insane, like his father before him.”

She nodded. “You do have a point. He is forever
flitting about from Tory to Whig, and that is very poor politics,
but why, sir, do you discuss this with me?” She eyed him
quizzically.

“As an example of what happens when one rushes
head-on into everything, as you do. Neck-or-nothing paces may end
in hurting you, child.”

“I didn’t know that directness was considered a
neck-or-nothing pace,” she answered, her dark eyes bright, her chin
up.

Damn, but he wanted to tame her.
Certes!
If
only she would see how good they could be together. She certainly
did amuse him. He chuckled and said, “That is because you lack
experience and sagacity.”

“Oh really?” Her dark eyes sparkled with the
challenge. “This is my third season out, and I rather think I am
not totally ignorant.”

“You misunderstand me.” He was enjoying himself
immensely. She built his fire and brought him to full awareness. He
didn’t want to break her spirit—he rather liked it—but he wanted
her spirit loyal to him. “
Passion’s Seed
.” He allowed the
title to hang in the air for a moment. “An interesting title, don’t
you think?”

“Interesting? No. Explicit, yes,” she answered
warily.

“Intriguing as well,” he continued. “In one chapter
our author tells us, ‘any woman can make a man fall in love with
her; but, ah the woman who can keep him so!’ What do you say, was
this penned by a male or a female?” He stared hard into her lovely
eyes and saw retreat.

“I understand that the author is a male,” she said
lightly.

“How do you understand that?”

“Well, the author pens his name as Felix
Gamble … sounds male to me.” She tried a smile, but it slipped
off her face as he reached for her fingers and held them to his
lips.

“Hmmm, perhaps, but do you recall Lady Jersey’s
weekend affair last year at Middleton? Of course, you must. It was
when Holland made a gross fool of himself and took a dive into the
goldfish pond.”

She knew what he was driving at; he saw it in her
eyes. She knew. He went on. “The scenery, the names all changed.
The incident—one and the same.”

“Yes, I remember,” she said in a small voice.

“I rather thought you did, my lady Felix,” he said
softly, but he saw by the flash of fear in her eyes that he had hit
home.

“Sir Edward … you don’t realize what you are
saying. Do not attempt to slander me in this fashion …”

He lifted his brow as he put the nails to her
coffin. “I don’t think it would be slander, love. You see, I have
proof. I have a copy of the contract you signed with Murry. It was
all very simple. Murry has a clerk, and clerks are sadly
underpaid.”

Sixteen

MISS BRETTON GAZED at Sir Frederick for a moment.
Something in the recesses of his vague blue eyes pulled at her
heart. Something was wrong, and it had nothing to do with his
injuries.

She had known for days that she was in love with
him. She loved the mischief forever lurking about his smile,
dancing around his words, and capturing her imagination. He had a
gentleness of manner about him that always called to her, and she
had been wondering what it would be like to be in his arms.

He had been for some moments flirting and teasing
her, but she believed that she had grown to know his mind, and
something was troubling him. She was sure of it.

She hoped he had meant it that he was going to apply
to her aunt regarding a courtship, but he had suffered a head
injury …

“Corry … of all women in the world, I trust you
to take me at my word,” he said suddenly.

She was surprised by it. “Now what new business is
this?”

“I tell you that there is heaven for me in your
eyes, and you say ‘nonsense’.”

“It is a very pretty thing to say … but what
does it really mean?” she responded, smiling softly at him.

He reached for her fingers and pulled her off the
chair near his bed and onto the bed. “You are a treasure of wisdom,
and I am a cad … a cad, I tell you.”

“Are you? I had not thought it,” she said, forcing
herself not to giggle. “Do you mean to bring me low … ruin
me … take advantage, and be on your way?”

“What?” he shot back, shocked. “May I be struck by
lightning before ever I would do such a thing … no … that
is not it.”

“What then, do you mean to take back your …
er … sickbed proposal?” she teased, but her heart fluttered in
her chest with dread.

“Stop … stop … never, but Corry … you
know nothing about me,” he said desperately, one free hand raking
his hair.

“What should I know? You are a complex man with a
gentle, kind, and oddly mixed personality of contradictions. Very
intriguing. You are charming, you are good fun and I—”

He cut her off. “I am not fit to look at your face,
hear your sweet voice …” His voice was full of bitterness.

She saw how very distressed he was and put teasing
aside. “Why, Freddy … what is all this?”

“Have you never heard about me—about the scandal I
brought to my name?” he answered, looking away.