Rogues Gallery (48 page)

Hugh's body stirred, drawn to her despite his brain's strictures to concentrate on his betrothed instead. Felicia did everything to excess, enjoying herself in a wild and unrestrained fashion, flouting all of Society's rules. . .

She was the female version of Lord Wastrel! Hugh nearly laughed aloud at that revelation. It explained so much.

Still, in a tiny corner of his heart, and an insistent area much further below, he could not help but wonder what it would be like to enjoy every one of life's pleasures with Felicia, knowing she possessed as great an appetite for them as he did.

Or rather, as he
had
.

"Are you quite all right, my lord?"

"Of course," he answered smoothly. "Why do you ask?"

"You are scowling quite fiercely," Penelope said. "I became concerned for you."

He loosened his features, taking his cue from Penelope's smooth unemotional visage. He turned his gaze away from the cheerful gathering and swept his hand out in front of him.

"Shall we ride this direction?"

Penelope nodded, the plume on her hat bobbing in a delightful fashion. She sat her horse with a great deal of grace, and she smiled at him as though pleased by what she saw. He sat a bit straighter, knowing he cut a dashing figure in his bespoke riding habit. Being the source of her pleasure made him happy, and helped to erase some of his earlier guilt.

Yet he struggled to keep his eyes straight ahead when he heard a burst of joyful laughter from the crowd behind him. Felicia was likely deciding which of the hapless young bucks would be her next elopement victim.

He clenched his jaw again. Perhaps he would call on Julian this evening and warn him about Felicia's flighty behavior. Not that Julian was unaware, or any less than a devoted sibling. Hugh knew what a difficult task it was to keep all that boisterous
joie de vivre
under wraps. Most likely Julian had given up trying to do so.

Hugh heard the hooves of another horse hitting the dirt path, and did not have to look to know Felicia was trying to catch up with them. He could sense her presence, and in the next instant he caught her scent, something light and floral, a great deal more tantalizing than it should be to a man betrothed to another.

"Lady Felicia," Penelope said. "I am so happy to see you."

Hugh glanced at her, to see what happiness looked like on her face. It was pleasant, and polite, almost regal, whereas Felicia—

Her cheeks were rosy from the brisk ride. Several auburn curls flew about her face, emphasizing the brightness of her blue eyes. How could he keep his eyes away from the laughter spilling from her gorgeous red lips?

"Felicia," he said, his voice filled with disapproval. "You must be more circumspect."

She blinked, and her expression dimmed slightly. It caused him a pang that he had affected her so, especially since he was aware he was actually chiding himself.

"I meant only that you should take more care," he said, more kindly. "I do not wish for you to come to harm." He turned towards Penelope. "I have known Felicia since she was a mere sprite, so I tend to think it is my responsibility to rebuke her for her riotous behavior."

"Oh, he is quite horrible," Felicia said with a laugh, her customary spirit restored. "And bossy. You have no idea what you have agreed to, Miss Lansdale."

Penelope smiled, almost indulgently, at Felicia. "Perhaps you can call on me tomorrow, so you can enlighten me as to my future husband's qualities."

Felicia's smile appeared to droop for a moment, but she rallied. "I would be delighted. If you are amenable, I could bring Great-Aunt Aurore with me, as I am certain she will know even more about him as a young lad than I do."

Hugh cleared his throat. "I can see what a disaster this will be if I am not there to censor appropriately."

"Appropriately?" Felicia said. "That's hardly a word we ever applied to you." She leaned toward Penelope and added in a stage whisper, "I have many stories you shall find entertaining."

Hugh could not stop the grin. "I believe you are confusing me with another who is renowned for inappropriate behavior."

Before Felicia could retort, a pair of riders joined their group. He did not recall seeing them previously, but Felicia's eyes lit up with recognition. "I have been seeking you out since the betrothal ball," she said to the woman. "I have something I wish to speak with you—"

In the next instant, Felicia's horse shuffled to the side, as if desperate to get away from the newcomers. It snorted, shaking its head, making it difficult for Felicia to keep it under control, even though he knew her to be an excellent horsewoman.

She tugged on the reins in an effort to settle the horse, but it resisted, bumping its nose into Penelope's mount. Hugh grabbed Penelope's reins to ensure she remained safely seated, but he could not reach Felicia, much as he wanted to.

Her horse reared up, its forelegs clawing at the air, and then shot forward, nearly throwing Felicia from her saddle.

"Felicia!"

Hugh took off after her, without a word of explanation. He could not let her come to harm. And he could not give her a scolding since it had not been her fault. The horse had become skittish for no good reason.

Hugh saw her clutch the reins in both hands, pulling in an effort to slow the horse, but it would not be stopped. The animal galloped down the pathway, scattering the other riders before they could be trampled. Felicia clung to the horse, her body low over its neck.

Hugh's heart raced as they dashed down the path, but he reminded himself of Felicia's excellent riding skills. She would likely see this as yet another grand adventure. He would have too, if he was not envisioning her crumpled body on the ground after being thrown off the speeding animal.

He spurred his horse into an even faster gallop. Fortunately Felicia's mount was beginning to tire, because Hugh was gaining on them. Just a little further, just a little closer, and then he could pull the animal to a halt. He reached his right hand out, ready to grasp the harness. He looked ahead once more and his heart nearly stopped. There was a stand of trees ahead, straight in their path.

He wished he could simply grab her by the waist and pull her onto his horse. But that was even more dangerous with both of them on horses flying at breakneck speed.

"Felicia, grab the pommel and hold tight."

When he saw her do just that, he grabbed the horse's harness, yanking it to the left, cursing Felicia's sidesaddle and praying it would stay in place. The horse followed the harsh command, gradually slowing as Hugh turned both of them away from the trees looming ahead.

He halted both animals, their sides heaving from the impromptu race. Hugh was panting, too. Relief that Felicia was safe made him incredibly lightheaded.

"Dear God, Felicia, you scared the wits out of me."

In the next instant, she reached for him and he did not hesitate to pull her from her horse onto his own. She wrapped her trembling arms around his neck, holding on tightly. He could feel her heart pounding against his chest. Or perhaps it was his own thundering heart.

"Do not ever frighten me like that again. I beg of you."

Felicia blinked, as if dazed, and that's when Hugh noticed her eyes filling with tears. This stalwart chit never cried. She was likely in shock. She had yet to utter a single word.

"I'm not angry with you," he said in a gentler tone. "I was never so terrified in my entire life, which no doubt made my words harsher than I intended—"

Felicia's mouth was instantly on his, hot and determined, insistent. He opened his lips, desperate for her kiss. He cradled her head in one hand, pulling her closer, absorbing the heat of her passion.

"You had me so worried," he murmured, kissing her eyelids, and her cheekbones. "I could not bear to lose you."

"I have been worried too," she said, breathless. She clasped his face with both hands, her face alight with joy, and then she pressed her lips to his once more.

He nearly groaned at the sheer perfection of it all. She was an innocent, he was certain of that, for her movements were unpracticed, but her passion flared up so quickly, and so intensely. God, how he needed her.

But she was the one thing he could not have.

Somehow he managed to pull away from her too-tempting mouth. "Felicia, I cannot."

"Why not?"

He buried his face in her neck, treasuring the pulse that beat there so rapidly, assuring him she was safe, alive. It also made him think of carrying her to their bed, her hair spilling over her shoulders while he placed her beautiful body onto the sheets.

"No! I must not. I cannot," he repeated, though his voice was gravelly, weak from the effort of denying himself.

He tried to tug her arms away from his neck, but it had been easier stopping a racing animal than to persuade his body to cooperate.

He momentarily gave up the fight, knowing it was foolhardy to do so. Felicia, the very embodiment of temptation, was atop his lap, and soon she would comprehend exactly why he needed to get away. He could bathe in freezing water for the next sennight and would never be able to remove her from his thoughts.

He leaned in for one more kiss. The last one, he promised himself. He could relinquish these inconvenient feelings for good once he had indulged a final time.

"Hugh, I love you."

His eyes flew open. He pulled back to stare at her. Surely she did not imagine herself in love after one passionate moment?

In the next instant, he realized her shocking words were merely a response to him saving her from certain disaster. Of course.

Before he could puzzle out why he felt so disappointed, Hugh heard thundering hooves behind them, and then they were completely surrounded by Felicia's concerned admirers.

As well as Hugh's betrothed.

Penelope raised an eyebrow slightly, as if aware of more than Hugh wanted to admit, especially to her. He turned away, making sure Felicia was safely on her feet before he dismounted, then he busied himself with retrieving her horse.

Felicia laughed and made light of the whole episode, although Hugh noticed she did not look at him even once throughout the retelling. Her laughter was a little too bright. Her gaiety was a bit forced. But he was the only one who seemed to notice. He knew her emotions and gestures as if they'd been lovers for years.

He shook off the notion, along with his body's continued reactions to Felicia. Fortunately he would be married soon, and no longer susceptible to such irrational sensations.

He strolled toward Penelope's horse, grabbing the bridle and glancing up at his betrothed.

"You are quite the hero, my lord."

Penelope smiled serenely, as she always did when he looked her way, but this time there was a small crease in her forehead.

Hugh stroked the horse's flank to avoid looking at her, not wanting her to uncover his inner turmoil. Only a wastrel would crave one woman while betrothed to another.

No! He would not let this bolt-from-the-blue, wildly impractical desire for Felicia ruin his plans for his daughter's future.

His jaw tightened.
Penelope
would be his bride.

It was the only choice possible.

Hugh settled into the comfortable chair at his club, grateful at being released, even for a moment, from the traitorous thoughts plaguing him on a daily basis.

He had spent the past week avoiding Felicia at every social gathering. He had also expended a great deal of energy ensuring they never had an opportunity to speak, despite her concerted effort to effect the opposite result—and in spite of his body's insistence on a different course of action.

He was more than ready to commence married life. It would put paid to these unholy notions about Felicia, while she could move on to some other gentleman who piqued her fancy.

He let out a relieved sigh. It was the best thing for everyone concerned.

"Have you ever seen this rascal so content?" Tony, Lord Travender, leaned against the nearby fire surround, cradling a glass of brandy.

"And from a man soon to be leg-shackled. It is a marvel," Julian teased.

"My jubilation is because of this respite from everything having to do with the upcoming wedding."

He had been unable to ask the men about the whole predicament with Felicia. Despite being his close friends, they were also Felicia's relatives, her cousin and brother. He would never be able to mention that scorching kiss. . .

Not for the first time, Hugh wished his best friend Winbourne had returned from his extended honeymoon trip. Though perhaps it was for the best. Hugh had mocked the man's feelings when things were not progressing so well with his now-bride, Georgiana, and Winbourne was certain to exact revenge for it.

"Julian," Tony said, "I have something I have been meaning to ask."

Julian raised his eyebrows, waiting with ducal impatience.

Hugh nearly cackled at the sight. "How long has he used that imperious expression on us? Since he was a mere marquess?"

"I'd say since we were in leading strings." Tony snorted. "I'm tempted to ask his valet how many mirrors it required to get it just right."

"Your petty jealousy warms my heart, gentlemen," Julian answered. "Especially since I have seen both of you attempting it when you think I am not watching."

Tony and Hugh protested, their words tumbling over each other to proclaim themselves blameless.

"And I believe you wanted to ask me a question?"

Tony and Hugh cackled anew at the exaggerated lift of eyebrows. This time Julian joined in their laughter.

"Have you heard Felicia mention that curse lately?" Tony continued. "It is all stuff and nonsense, of course. But she has been acting quite strangely, more so than usual. Particularly after her recent excitement in Hyde Park."

"A curse?" Hugh sat forward, hoping to deflect discussion about his part in Felicia's misadventure. "What sort of curse?"

"The curse of true love," Julian replied. "It's an old family legend."

"Why have I never heard of this until now?"