Miss Frazer's Adventure (7 page)

“The park seems rather empty,” Lord Thorpe drawled as he turned back to regard her in an oddly piercing manner.

Kate gave a startled blink. Although there were no doubt far fewer society members in town than during the season proper, there were still a number of well-groomed citizens crowding the lanes.

“It seems quite bustling to me,” she argued with a puzzled smile.

“Ah, but no chaperone.”

“What?”

“Your personal, decidedly interfering guardian.”

Comprehension dawned and she wrinkled her nose in wry amusement. “Oh.”

He lifted a questioning brow at the soft color that suddenly warmed her cheeks. “You did not throttle him and toss his body into the Thames, did you?”

Kate took a moment to fully appreciate the lovely image, and then she gave a regretful shake of her head.

“No, although it is certainly a temptation.”

He gave a laugh but there was a watchful intensity in the dark gaze. “I have already deduced that he is a rather close acquaintance. Is there anything else that I should know?”

Kate struggled to discourage her childish blush.

She was an intelligent, sophisticated, mature woman, she reminded herself. And intelligent, sophisticated, mature women did not blush like schoolgirls who had just experienced their first kiss.

A kiss they did not even recall.

“What do you mean?”

“Is he your lover?” Lord Thorpe came directly to the point.

“No,” she denied, not having to pretend her shocked tones. It was not always a simple matter to recall she was a supposedly experienced widow.

“He is very possessive of you.”

“He considers himself responsible for me.” Kate smiled with a hint of self-mockery. “And if you must know, he has a futile hope that he can wed me for my wealth.”

The dark eyes narrowed. “That might explain his persistence. However, my dear, I do not believe that Lord Calfield has your fortune on his mind when he is looking at you.”

“Lord Calfield always has my fortune on his mind. Or at least when he has not forgotten me utterly. Believe me, I am nothing more than a ready source of income.”

“Then he is a fool,” he murmured.

A fool? Kate gave a slow shake of her head. She had heard Luce called many things by both his friends and enemies.

Charming.

Rakish.

Ruthless.

Obsessed.

But never a fool.

“No, not a fool,” she corrected. “A very dangerous and cunning gentleman.”

There was a brief silence before Lord Thorpe abruptly leaned forward. “Shall I rid you of his presence?”

“Rid me of his presence?” Her eyes widened at the grim edge in his voice. “Good heavens. You sound like a character from a Gothic novel.”

“Nothing so dramatic,” he assured her, but there was no mistaking the sudden power she could sense about him. This was a man who could match Luce in ruthless determination, she recognized with a stab of surprise. Perhaps Luce had sensed that himself. It would certainly explain why he had taken such an illogical dislike toward a complete stranger. “But a few words in the right ears could ensure that his room at the hotel was no longer available and that his presence in London was far from comfortable.”

“You could do that?” she demanded in surprise.

“Yes.”

It was a temptation.

With Luce gone, she could enjoy herself without the ever-present knowledge he was plotting to sweep her back to Kent. And perhaps she could accept the attentions of Lord Thorpe without constantly comparing him to her aggravating ex-fiancé. But even as the thoughts swept through her mind, Kate was heaving a small sigh.

No.

To hide behind Lord Thorpe's obvious influence was no better than hiding behind her father's overbearing manner.

She was determined to face the world on her own.

And that included Lord Calfield.

“Knowing Luce, he would simply invade with his fleet of ships,” she said dryly. “No, I think it best to ignore him. Eventually, he will have to seek out another victim. He must repair his fortunes soon.”

Something that might have been disappointment rippled over his handsome face before he gave a nod of his head.

“As you wish. But remember, you can always turn to me if you need my assistance.”

A warmth flowed through Kate at his kindness. She was honest enough to admit she had been initially attracted to him for his dark wicked beauty. A shallow, if typical, response. But she was discovering there was a great deal more to him than that.

“Thank you,” she whispered, knowing that he did not make his promise lightly.

She also knew that if she were in trouble, she would gladly turn to this man.

Bless Lord Thorpe.

* * *

Damn Lord Thorpe.

Against all better sense, Luce had covertly followed Lord Thorpe's carriage as it drove off with Luce's own soon-to-be-bride. He was not certain what he intended to do. After all, he could hardly make a scene in the midst of the fashionable park. Not without driving Kate away for certain.

Still, he had known he could not simply await her return to the hotel. Not when she was in the clutches of a practiced rake.

It had been even worse than he dreaded.

His teeth had ground together at the sight of them gazing into each others' eyes like besotted fools. They were even holding hands despite the fact that they were seated in the midst of the entire
ton
.

It had taken all of Luce's considerable willpower not to gallop across the park and snatch Kate from the grasp of the treacherous beast.

Instead, he had turned his restless energy to more productive venues.

Kate desired to fulfill her fantasies? She desired dreams? Well, he would prove that he was more than capable of providing her with all the excitement she could desire.

With that thought grimly in mind, Luce had devoted his afternoon to weaving the perfect fantasy. It had taken hours and a great deal of effort, but in the end he had been thoroughly satisfied.

He had one fantasy, made to order, that would satisfy the most demanding maiden.

In a considerably happier frame of mind, Luce changed into a pair of black breeches and dark claret coat. Brushing his golden hair in casual waves toward his freshly shaved countenance, he deemed himself ready and made his way to Kate's room.

He knocked on her door. There was a nerve-racking wait before Kate at last appeared, still wearing the lemon riding gown.

His heart skidded to a halt as he greedily drank in the sight of the vast amount of creamy skin exposed by the daring neckline.

He had promised himself he would take matters slowly. Kate was clearly an innocent. A babe among wolves, he acknowledged wryly. He would wait for her to indicate when she was prepared to begin her glorious flirtation.

But while his thoughts could nominate him for sainthood, his body was clearly in the gutter.

After spending the past twenty-four hours plagued with an aching frustration, he did not wish to take matters slowly. He wanted to scoop her in his arms and kiss those sweet lips. He wanted to slowly remove the pins from her hair and watch the satin fire drift about her shoulders.

Forcing himself to take a deep breath, Luce attempted to train his thoughts back to a more pure and noble path.

He was supposed to be fulfilling Kate's fantasies, not his own. Only then would she give up these foolish fancies and return to Kent as his wife.

“Are you ready?” he at last managed to inquire, his voice thankfully normal.

She lifted a cool brow, clearly not going weak in the knees at his presence.

“Ready for what?”

He swiftly dampened his instant annoyance and the not so small blow to his pride.

Her knees would grow weak soon enough, he assured himself.

But first ... dinner.

“We are to have dinner tonight, do you not recall?”

“I recall you telling me we were having dinner,” she corrected. “I do not recall agreeing.”

“Come now, Kate,” he urged with his most potent smile. “I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?”

“You did want to try novel and daring things, did you not?”

She hesitated before curiosity at last got the better of her. “Very well, but I must change my gown first.”

“No, you look perfect,” Luce swiftly assured her, shifting uncomfortably.

Gads, he was already bothered by the indecent manner in which the gown was cut to reveal her snowy white shoulders. How the devil could he withstand the torture of lingering in the hall while she changed her gown just beyond the door?

Such a thing would encourage thoughts better left unthought.

Thankfully unaware of his discomfort, she gave a faint shrug. Then, slipping on a heavy satin cape and gloves, she followed him into the hall.

They walked in silence until Luce steered her past the lobby and out to the street, where a carriage awaited them.

“Where are we going?” she demanded as he handed her into the dark depths and swiftly settled beside her.

“First, a short drive,” he informed her firmly, reaching up to rap against the roof of the carriage and send them into motion. Then, with great care, he reached for a blanket folded in the corner and placed it over her lap. “You must tell me if you become cold. We do not have far to go, but I do not wish you to catch a chill.”

He could feel her startled gaze sweep over his profile as he ensured the warmed brick was next to her kidskin boots.

“I am quite comfortable, I thank you,” she murmured. “And you needn't worry, I am never ill.”

Luce settled back in his seat, readily meeting her searching gaze. He had never been the sort to fuss over another. Hardly surprising, considering he spent most days with hardened sailors who would bust his nose or worse at the least hint of fussing.

It came as a distinct surprise to discover he rather enjoyed treating Kate as if she were a rare and priceless object.

“I wish to worry over you, Kate. It gives me pleasure.”

“Do you worry over me or my dowry?”

His lips twitched at her blunt question. Honesty was supposed to be refreshing, he reminded himself with wry humor. Unfortunately, “refreshing” was not precisely all that it was cracked up to be.

“You are oddly determined to consider me as no more than a fortune hunter, are you not, my dear?”

She gave a lift of her brow. “Do you blame me?”

“Well, I could point out that if all I desired was an easy means to wealth, there are no doubt any number of eager young chits filling the ballrooms I could chose from,” he said with undeniable logic. “Unlike you, most maidens consider becoming a countess a goal worthy of any sacrifice. Even being wed to me.”

In the dark, it was impossible to know if she blushed, but Luce sensed that he had struck a nerve.

“Then why are you here in this carriage with me rather than the ballrooms?” she demanded in sharp-edged tones. “It would obviously be a far more sensible, not to mention more profitable, use of your time.”

Luce shifted so that he was fully facing her delicate profile. “Obviously. And yet here I am. That should prove something to you, Kate.”

“That you do not enjoy having your will thwarted,” she stubbornly insisted. “You decided that I was to be your wife and you refuse to concede defeat.”

Bloody hell. Luce rolled his eyes heavenward. He should have his head examined. Being utterly crazed could be the only excuse for wasting his evening with a maiden so absurdly determined to hate him. A maiden, moreover, who was hurtling hell for leather down a path of ruin.

But crazed or not, he knew that he would have no other wife.

Miss Kate Frazer would be the Countess of Calfield. Regardless of how she might battle him along the way.

“I believe you are still overlooking the pertinent fact, my dear,” he retorted in firm tones.

“And what fact would that be?”

“That I could have brought an end to this foolishness the moment I arrived in London.” He caught and held her wary gaze with a steady determination. “A brief message to your father would have you hauled back to Kent and condemned to your chambers until you are too old and feeble to leave them. I do not doubt that for all your brave words you would be relieved enough to accept my proposal in time, if only to escape your imprisonment.”

Her breath caught, as if she were surprised by his sudden challenge of her bluff. Of course, she could not realize just how much she had revealed during her drunken confessions.

“Then why have you not done so?” she demanded.

He leaned against the leather seat, regarding her with a searching gaze. In the muted light, it was impossible to determine more than the stubborn set to her lovely jaw.

“Because I have come to believe that we can do better than a gentleman in need of a fortune and a maiden who feels compelled to please her father. With a bit of effort, I think that we can at least be friends.”

“Friends?”

He gave a faint shrug. “Why not?”

There was a moment's pause, as if she were reluctantly considering words.

“You believe that I shall be more amenable to marriage if we are friends?” she at last demanded.

“Certainly that is my hope, and I will not insult your intelligence by pretending otherwise,” he said in dry tones. “However, for the moment I am content to follow your lead and leave the future to unfold in its own time. All I ask is to simply be offered the opportunity to prove that I am not the unfeeling monster you perceive me to be.”