Wildfire Kiss (5 page)

“Just a minute!” Babs snapped, cutting him off. “He
is the best of good friends. He brought me here at my request
because my father was otherwise engaged and by the way gave his
consent, though that is none of your business.”

“I beg your pardon,” he answered inclining his head
and thinking she was a feisty little creature. He liked the way her
dark eyes flashed. Just who the devil was she?

Sir Charles appeared at the coach door. “Well,
that’s done, Babs m’girl, though what Otto could have had in his
head to let you stand about while he took a steam engine for a
ride!” He shook his head, climbed in, and waved off the objection
Babs began to make before he turned to his cousin to say, “Nick, I
took the liberty of directing your driver to Lady Barbara’s town
house. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Now why should I mind when you have been directing
my driver all morning?” his lordship teased, finding himself
greatly amused. “However, I hope you will take a moment and
introduce me to this young lady before the journey is
completed.”

“So I shall, but not until I have warned her about
you.” He turned to Babs and offered, “This gentleman, who is also
my cousin, is a devil, Babs, so I have my qualms about bringing him
to your notice. However, as there is nothing for it …” He
inclined his head and said, “Lady Barbara Waverly, my cousin, his
grace, the Duke of Barrington.”

Lady Babs’ eyebrow went up, and the duke couldn’t
decide if she was impressed or simply surprised. Her full lower lip
dropped slightly, and he felt a sudden blood rush. She was damned
enticing.

He took her gloved fingers lightly in his own and
touched the soft flesh of her wrist with his lips. His eyes came up
even as his lips met her skin, and he found her delicate brows up
and her cheeks aflame.

“You are sweetly named,” he said softly to her and
saw his cousin grimace. It spurred him on. “As sweet as the taste
of your flesh.”

“OH! Outrageous, your grace.” She smiled ruefully
and turned to Charles. “Chuck, you are certainly right … he is
charming enough to be dangerous.”

He laughed. “Charles, I think the lady well able to
fend me off, don’t you?”

Babs laughed and said, “But you two are cousins? How
is it I have never seen his grace during the season?” She looked
curiously from one to the other, and the duke found himself amused
by her openness of manner.

“Ah,’ Charles answered, “you are not only looking at
one of London’s former rakehells,” he said as he smiled fondly,
“but also one of Wellington’s heroes! He has been off fighting in
the Peninsula.” He stopped at that moment to exclaim, “Ah, here we
are,” as the coach pulled up to the curbing.

It was Charles who alighted and turned to give Lady
Babs his gloved hand and escort her to her front door, but it was
the duke who managed to stay her with a soft remark. “This meeting
has ended too quickly and with no promise for the future …” He
meant it as a mild flirtation but was powerfully taken when she
answered.

“The future itself is a promise, your grace, for it
is ever full of surprises.” So saying, she turned and allowed
Charles to take her up the walk and front steps to her father’s
front door.

***

Babs knew Maudly would open the door at any moment,
and she hurriedly tugged at her friend’s finger and asked, “Has he
sold out, Chuck—your cousin? And what was a duke doing in
Wellington’s army? That doesn’t make any sense. How is it he isn’t
married? He seems quite old enough … he looks as though he
might be nearing thirty?”

Charles laughed out loud. “Mind your manners, brat,
and he
is not for you,
so don’t worry your head over those
questions.”

“Oh ho! And you have decided that? Well, as a matter
of fact I don’t want him, but I am curious.”

“He only recently inherited his father’s title and
estate. He is not married, and although he is old enough he had no
wish to be. You may not want him now, but he has a way about him—he
could steal your heart off before you are even aware he wants
it.”

“And yet, you like him a great deal?”

“And yet, I do …” Chuck smiled at her as the
door opened wide. Maudly appeared, curtsied, and ushered her charge
within, but not before Lady Babs managed to throw over her
shoulder, “Will I see you at Southby’s soirée tomorrow night?”

“Indeed. I am looking forward to it.” His eyebrow
went up, and he added, “You seem somewhat overjoyed to hear it—I
hope it is not because you think my cousin will be there. Don’t
think he means to make an appearance …”

Her smile didn’t fade. “Why should I care about
that?” However, she was acutely aware that she did care—she cared
more than she could understand. For goodness sake, she had only
just met the man … but he was ever so handsome. She sighed to
herself.

Charles stepped inside and said, “A moment please,
Lady Babs …”

She turned, and her eyebrow arched. Both were aware
that Maudly hovered a few feet away.

Charles seemed to choose his words as he said, “Lady
Babs, I feel it incumbent upon myself to caution you …”

She took a step back to him. “Yes?” she said
sweetly. She rather thought Chuck liked her, and she had taken
pains to show him as carefully as she could that she only cared for
him as a friend.

He sighed and wagged a finger. “The duke is his own
man and goes where he chooses and has been out and about while you
were still in the schoolroom.”

She stamped her foot at him playfully and said, “Do
not be wagging fingers at me and warning me off that which I do not
want!” She giggled and added just before she gave him a little
wave, “And you do not need to er … father me, I have enough of
a father doing that all the time.” So saying she allowed Maudly to
show him out and watched as her housekeeper rolled her eyes and
closed the door.

***

Charles returned to the coach and sighed heavily as
he climbed inside. “Sorry. Your day at the fair was ruined, and I
did so want you to lose yourself for a bit in some harmless
devilry.”

The duke snorted. “My dear Charles … or is it
Chuck?” he teased and then proceeded before his friend could reply.
“I did in fact, enjoy myself immensely, but tell me, are you
courting the chit?”

Charles sighed sadly. “I … no, she is immune at
the moment to all suitors. I wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“Then you are smitten?” the duke asked
curiously.

“Nonsense.” Charles released a short laugh.
“Me—smitten by a minx of a girl … utter nonsense.”

However, the duke thought he rather knew better. He
gazed at his cousin. “I must admit, she is not in your usual
style.”

“And what the deuce do you think is my
usual
style?”

“Serene and lovely, soft and elegant, gentle and
demure,” said his grace at once.

“Rubbish.” Charles laughed.

“So then,
you do
want her—this
rough-and-tumble vixen?”

“I suppose I fancied I did … but though she
hasn’t said so, I can see that she thinks we wouldn’t suit,”
Charles answered and sighed heavily. A fist went to his mouth, and
he turned towards the window. However, he suddenly returned his
attention to his cousin, and his eyes narrowed. “But may I also say
that she is most definitely not in
your style
, Nick.”

“You may say it, and as it happens, I agree with
you. She is not the sort of female I intend to dally with.
I
don’t
break hearts … at least not innocent hearts, and
since when have I ever played with virgins?”

“Just so,” Charles answered and then leveled a
direct look at him as he confessed, “She seemed to think you might
show up at Southby’s tomorrow night.”

Nick felt a strange flutter inside himself. “And
your answer?”

“I told her that you were not the man to bat her
eyelashes at,” Charles answered testily.

“Well done,” said Nick on a chuckle.

“Well?” Charles returned.

“Well what?” Nick answered, knowing he was
irritating his cousin.

“
Damnation, man
, do you intend to go?”

“We’ll see,” was all the answer he was going to
give. Indeed, his mind was already elsewhere as he tipped his hat
to an old flame whose coach had just come up alongside his
window.

Five

BABS’ MIND WANDERED as she chatted idly with friends
at the soiree. Friends? So many either engaged or already married.
And her dearest friend in all the world had just recently been
married to the love of her life; she’d told Babs all about the
thrill of ‘making love’ and just what it really was like.

With spring in the air and igniting her imagination,
that particular subject had filtered through her thoughts more than
once. What would it be like to make love with a hot-blooded
man?

She sighed, for in this season, more than any other,
her body seemed to be coming alive. She felt intoxicated with the
romance that spring seemed to offer with its scents and sounds. It
was as though she were shedding the girl and embracing the woman
that wanted control.

Two names had recently made headlines, and gossip
columns were also abuzz with anything and everything about those
two names. It was their daring and their offhanded mannerisms that
caught everyone’s attention. One was the poet Lord Byron, whom her
father wished her to avoid, and the other, the arbiter of fashion
Beau Brummell. Brummell was a valet’s son who had managed to become
the Prince Regent’s friend and fashion’s dandy king.

At that moment, Babs turned and found herself
flanked by both of them, and as she considered each dear, she
smiled warmly.

Beau held his quizzing glass up to his eye with a
show of appreciation and said loudly enough for the nearby crowd to
hear, “Stunning, my dear heart. That flame-colored gown fits you to
perfection. Indeed, you carry it off beautifully with those black
curls of yours, and those curls shine intoxicatingly as they frame
your lovely face—I am …” He bent and kissed the air above her
gloved fingers. “… your very obedient servant.”

“What of her dark, yes, Beau … I should write
an ode to her dark eyes …” Byron said on a low, flirtatious
note.

She laughed, rapped Byron’s shoulder lightly, and
wagged a finger at Beau. “Stop it, you two, or you will have my
head swell, which would be most uncomfortable.”

She looked across the room at that moment, and
there he was
. His blue eyes looked directly into hers, and
she was startled to discover that she was capable of feeling
missish. She tried to shrug off the sensation and inclined her
head, allowing the Duke of Barrington a silent greeting.

She saw an amused smile light up his oh too handsome
countenance while both Bryon and Beau kept up a lively conversation
beside her. She returned her attention to these two and tried not
to think of the duke across the room.

***

“Nick, you devil!” Charles exclaimed, coming towards
him. “I can’t believe you actually came!”

The duke smiled at his cousin but ignored his remark
as he shook hands with his host, Southby, and made an outrageous
remark to Southby’s latest flirt. He then followed this up by
whispering something in her ear that made her catch her breath and
fan herself. “Well … if Southby doesn’t mind …” she said
softly, looking at the portly man beside her.

“Mind?” spluttered Southby. “Of course I mind, you
naughty piece of fluff.”

She released a ripple of musical laughter and moved
off towards the orchestra. Southby turned to the duke. “What’s
this, Wildfire, stealing me wench right out from under me nose?”
His tone was full with lively banter.

“I am persuaded that she is much too attached to
you.” The duke smiled and turned to find the object of his scheme
standing with Count Stauffenberg. “She is merely … ah …”
The waltz he had requested was struck up. “Do excuse me, but my
blood beckons.”

Southby and Charles watched him move in, bow to Lady
Barbara, and lead her onto the dance floor for the first waltz.

“Damn, but what is he doing?” Southby shook his
head. “Not in his usual style, the Lady Babs …” He leveled a
hard look at Sir Charles. “Best to steer him off. It just won’t
do—”

Charles bristled in defense of his friend and
relation. “You are out there. First of all, he is the Duke of
Barrington with name, position, and wealth. Secondly, can’t make
him do or not do anything he has a mind to do or not do. Thirdly,
he is just amusing himself for the moment.”

“Is he, well then, if that is all it is … no
doubt leading her out so pointedly like this would have made her
season had she not already been the sweetheart of the
ton
.
I’m told she has a list of would-be suitors but will have none of
any of them.” He sighed. “The wonder is she has turned ’em all
away.”

“Aye, perhaps she just isn’t ready …” Charles
sighed heavily and added, “More is the pity …”

***

Lady Babs noted to herself that the duke singled her
out for
his
first dance, and that a waltz, which she decided
was most significant. She wondered if he had in fact come to the
ball to just to see her?
Impossible,
she told
herself—foolish, schoolgirl dreams. What would someone so
sophisticated want with her?

However, something inside her tickled a hope, and
when she looked up during the steps of the dance and discovered his
deep blue eyes, she traveled to a place she never knew existed
until that moment.

She tried to snap out of it. He surely was only
amusing himself. His heart was well guarded, and she did not have
experience enough to tear down his defenses. She was sure that even
if she were to flirt outrageously … she wouldn’t be able to
follow through. What did she know about such things?

She attempted to look past his shoulder and pretend
his hand on her waist wasn’t making her tremble. This proved
impossible as his shoulders were so much higher than her eye level;
she succeeded only in staring at the black velvet of his coat.