Dancing With A Devil (37 page)

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Authors: Julie Johnstone

Tags: #historical romance, #love, #regency romance

BOOK: Dancing With A Devil
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She smiled back, then, feeling guilty that she had hardly spared a glance for Lord Thortonberry, turned her attention to him. His outfit, a double-breasted coat of vibrant green-and-white stripes, a black top hat and cream pantaloons, reminded her of her Aunt Hillie’s outrageous outfits. The bold ensemble was rather unlike what he usually wore. Pulling her gaze away from the gentlemen, she whispered to Whitney, “Of all the rotten luck. I never counted on them arriving at the same time.”


No matter.” Whitney squeezed Audrey’s hand. “Since Sally couldn’t be here, because of Peter’s illness, I instructed your aunt to run interference if this very predicament occurred.


How very devious of you,” Audrey murmured.

Whitney grinned. “It’s the least I can do. However, you know who I think you should choose.”


Yes, I know.” Audrey had no wish to have the same discussion they’d had several hours ago after she’d called on Whitney and told her of her predicament.


In case you’ve forgotten, I want you to end up with Sin.”


I haven’t forgotten.” Audrey shot Whitney an incredulous look while keeping part of her attention focused on the men. They were both occupied with greeting the host and hostess, so Audrey had a few minutes to decide who she would spend time with first today.

Whitney nudged her in the side. “I hate to be a pest, but your aunt is waiting for my signal.”

Audrey searched the room for her aunt and found her hiding behind a potted plant, which would have been rather clever, except Aunt Hillie had worn her usual shocking attire. The seven feathers in her aunt’s hair stuck up past the plant’s bushy leaves and gave her hiding place away. Audrey giggled. “I’m not sure.”


Not sure about which man or no longer sure of your plan?”


Which gentleman,” Audrey immediately responded. “I’m still certain of my plan. My head still tells me to choose Lord Thortonberry, while my heart clings to the hope that Trent will realize he loves me.”


Then it’s settled. Spend time with Trent first. And then if he has an epiphany, you can send Lord Thortonberry on his way.”

Audrey frowned. “I’ll spend time with Lord Thortonberry first. I’ve always followed my heart and look where it’s gotten me.”

Whitney held up one finger and Aunt Hillie shot Audrey a fierce frown. Whitney snickered. “I daresay your aunt doesn’t approve.”


I know. She made her opinion very clear after Trent left. In her mind, true love always wins. Of course, she chooses to forget that Trent has never said he loves me.”


Sometimes men say it without using the words.”


Well, I need the words.” After everything that had happened, she wanted that certainty. “Lord Thortonberry is approaching,” she warned.


Yes, yes,” Whitney grumbled. “I’ll play dutiful chaperone as promised, and you will pretend to be light-headed.”

Audrey nodded as she smiled at Lord Thortonberry.

He took her hand and pressed his lips to her glove. “Ladies, you both look exquisite.”

Audrey and Whitney murmured appropriate responses and then Lord Thortonberry asked, “Shall we go view the art?”

Audrey shook her head. “I’m feeling rather light-headed.” In a way it did not take much acting on her part, because if she thought too long about having to decide who she might marry, she did feel light-headed. Marriage was a lifelong commitment. Could she marry someone she didn’t love with all her heart? Then again, could she marry someone who didn’t love her? Why did things have to be so complicated? “I need some fresh air.”

Whitney clutched her arm on cue. “Lord Thortonberry, won’t you help me take Lady Audrey to the garden to get fresh air?”


Certainly.” He grasped her other elbow and pressed his free hand against her back.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Trent try to break away from her aunt. Aunt Hillie grabbed his arm and waved her hands in the air while speaking rapidly. Whitney must have seen it as well, because she pulled Audrey along at a clipped pace toward the hall that led to the courtyard.


Perhaps we should slow down for Lady Audrey’s sake,” Lord Thortonberry said behind her.


Nonsense.” Whitney strode toward the garden door and practically dragged Audrey down the steps. Before Audrey’s feet could gain firm ground, Whitney was pressing her hands to Audrey’s shoulders. Audrey landed with a hard thud on the metal bench.

This had not been the plan. They were to stroll in the garden while Whitney fell behind them and allowed them time to talk. Whitney whipped toward Lord Thortonberry as he descended the steps and clutched his arm. “I better go fetch Audrey’s aunt, so she doesn’t become overly worried. You stay with Lady Audrey and I’ll be back in a moment.”

Whitney ascended the steps before Lord Thortonberry could agree. Audrey’s protest died silently on her lips. Blast Whitney for her scheming ways. She had no idea what Whitney was up to, but she didn’t care for it one bit.

Audrey ran a smoothing hand over her skirts as she thought. She could not very well hop up and claim to be all better, but she’d never planned on being utterly alone with Lord Thortonberry. What if he asked her to marry him today? She was not ready to respond.

He sat beside her, so that their knees bumped. “Sorry,” he said and tried to adjust himself, but he was a tall man and the bench was small. “Shall I stand and give you more room?”


No.” She took a deep purposeful breath, so he’d believe her next words. “I think I’m already feeling a bit better.


Excellent.”

The gleam in his eyes made her gulp. Perhaps she should have asked him to stand after all.


I’m glad to get you all to myself.” His voice was low and husky.


Are you?” she murmured, praying Whitney would truly hurry back.

He scooted closer and slid his arm across the back of the bench. His fingers first brushed her shoulder, then moved swiftly to her neck, where he curled his warm, strong hands around her bare skin. Before she could protest him taking any liberties here in a very public garden, his mouth descended on hers, and her heart exploded in galloping indignation.

A thousand rude words rang in her ears. She pushed at his chest, but he didn’t seem to notice. His kiss became more fervent, almost bruising in its intensity. Just as she moved her hands up his chest to shove him away, Whitney’s voice cut through the silence. “My goodness, you two lovebirds. I leave you alone for one minute and you’re in each other’s arms.”

Audrey was going to throttle Whitney for the game she was playing. She shoved hard at Lord Thortonberry’s chest and whipped to her feet, swaying with how fast she came up and her lack of air from the brute’s relentless kiss. “Oh my,” she murmured, her gaze focusing belatedly on Trent’s.

His green eyes bored into her like bits of razor-sharp stones. Her heart sank to her slippered feet, crashing so loudly in her mind she jerked. She wanted to run to him and explain that she’d not been a willing participant in the kiss, more like a ship taken by force, but she stood stock-still. She would not humiliate Lord Thortonberry by saying such a thing. There was an arrested expression on Trent’s face that twisted her heart into a tangled mass, but it was the immediate smile that he forced to his lips, which made her tremble and fear he’d never be able to love her now. There wasn’t a trace of warmth to his smile, only cold contempt. “I’ve forgotten something in the salon,” he said before turning on his heel and leaving without another word.

His contemptuous tone echoed in her ears. She wanted to run out of the garden go home and sob for what she was sure she’d just lost forever. Instead, she forced her gaze to Whitney, who was staring, with a puckered brow, at the door Trent had slammed shut. Audrey had a strong desire to jerk her friend inside somewhere private and rail at her, but from the utterly bemused expression on Whitney’s face Audrey had a sinking suspicion her dear, meddling friend had thought to induce Trent to jealousy so he would admit his feelings. Instead, Whitney had driven him away. Maybe he’d come back?

Audrey found herself staring at the door until Lord Thortonberry spoke beside her. “Shall we go inside and view the art?” His voice was tight with an underlying note of irritation.

Audrey tried to school her features before answering. She nodded, and as he offered his arm to her, the garden door banged open, and Audrey’s heart leaped with hope, then fell with such intensity it likely shattered forever. One beleaguered-looking nanny came out with two giggling toddlers. The children darted down the steps, almost knocking the nanny over. As she teetered on the top step, Audrey scrambled toward her to steady her.

The nanny screamed out the children’s names with such ear-splitting intensity, Audrey winced.


Mary and Martin, come back here,” the nanny wailed. Audrey caught a glimpse of the little girl’s pink skirt just before she disappeared around the corner of the garden maze.


I’ll never find those children before their mother finds me. I’ll be fired,” the woman wailed. She looked at Audrey with mournful eyes. “I try. I really do. Those children are too spoiled for their own good.”

Audrey glanced beseechingly at Lord Thortonberry. “Do you mind?”


Not at all,” he automatically replied, yet had his jaw clenched. Did he not like children? She definitely needed to ask him that. Marrying a man who might be unloving to his children was out of the question. Lord Thortonberry strode toward the garden at a clipped, purposeful pace.

Audrey frowned, a memory of those children nagging her. “Are those the Duchess of Primwitty’s niece and nephew?”


Yes, my lady. The duchess’s sister, Lady Brighton, is inside.” The woman glanced behind her then turned back. “She insists on bringing them everywhere,” the nanny said in a low voice. “His lordship claims it’s because their last child died in the care of the nanny while they were out, but I suspect it isn’t just that. She’s American, you know. She’s the daughter from the first marriage and the duchess’s half sister. I can tell you she is nothing like the duchess, a true English lady, who I adore.”

Audrey shot a beseeching gaze to Whitney to leave rest the reference that the woman being American somehow made her less of a true lady, but it was too late. Whitney gripped the woman’s arm and tugged her toward the door. “My husband is American,” she said in a torturing tone. “We shall see what their customs are in raising children.”


But my lady,” the nanny protested as the garden door once again opened and then banged shut.

Audrey suppressed a hysterical giggle. Whitney had likely been too livid at the indirect insult to her husband to consider that she was taking the woman away from her charges and leaving the little devils in Audrey and Lord Thortonberry’s care. With a sigh, she started toward the garden but stopped when Lord Thortonberry yelped. Not a second later, his voice carried on the wind. “You insufferable beast. Do not kick me again.”

Audrey frowned fiercely and crossed her arms over her chest. If Lord Thortonberry was going to speak that way to the child, the man deserved to be kicked. She strolled to the bench and sat down. After the liberties he’d taken with her, he deserved his comeuppance, and perhaps it was best served by a precocious toddler.

Trent was five steps away from leaving his cousin’s home when Dinnisfree appeared out of the shadows and stepped in front of him to block his path. His friend folded his hands across his chest. “Where are you going?”


Home,” Trent snapped, dodging around the duke and then letting out a warning growl when Dinnisfree grabbed his arm.


What has happened? I thought I was to keep Thortonberry occupied for you while you made Lady Audrey yours.”

Trent ignored Dinnisfree’s bantering tone and jerked out of the man’s grip. “What has happened is that you bloody failed at preoccupying the competition, and I was waylaid by Lady Audrey’s nonsensical, chattering aunt, who I suspect must have been preoccupying me either by her own design or Audrey’s. While I was busy answering a thousand mind-numbing questions, all asked with a curious proverb thrown in, the woman I thought to take as my wife was happily ensconced in a lurid embrace.” Fierce anger and something else, something raw and throbbing much like―no far greater than―any wound he’d ever received, sliced at him. His chest felt constricted, his throat tight and his nerves on edge.

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