Some Like to Shock (Mills & Boon Historical) (Daring Duchesses - Book 2) (7 page)

Genevieve shuddered in revulsion just thinking of another young innocent being exposed to that viciousness. No, Charlotte really should not be allowed to marry William Forster and made to suffer as Genevieve had once suffered.

‘It was not my intention for you never to talk again …’ Benedict drawled drily as, having paid and entered the gardens, and walked some distance down one of the lantern-lit gravel pathways, Genevieve remained lost in thought. Perhaps that same something that had preoccupied her earlier?

She gave a guilty start, before turning to look about them. ‘Oh, how lovely!’ Her blue eyes glowed through her mask as she looked about her at the many arbours and pathways leading from this one, all of them lit by dozens of lanterns placed in the trees, with the sound of music playing and fountains gurgling in the background, amidst the laughter and chatter of all the other people currently enjoying the gardens.

Benedict had deliberately chosen to arrive at the gardens after darkness had fallen, knowing that Genevieve, at least, would appreciate the romance of the glowing lanterns to light their way. After his own response to kissing her earlier, Benedict was no longer sure he appreciated the privacy offered by so many of the tree- and shrub-enshrouded arbours, several of which were already providing that privacy if the soft murmurs and pleasurable groans he could hear were any indication!

Genevieve seemed totally unaware of those less proper activities as she tucked her gloved hand trustingly into the crook of his arm. She looked up and gave him a glowing smile as they continued to walk down the pathway crowded with other revellers. ‘This is all so perfect, Benedict. And just as I imagined it might be! Can we go and listen to the band playing at the colonnade? And see some of the beautiful fountains? And then could we—?’

‘You are rattling on again, Genevieve.’ Benedict gave a weary shake of his head, grateful that his two closest friends could not see him now. Indeed, he thanked heaven Dante and Devil were at present too occupied in the pursuit of their own respective ladies
to interest themselves in Benedict’s own activities, otherwise he doubted he would never hear the end of this hellish evening he had brought upon himself!

For hell it now most assuredly was, when Benedict was so physically aware of Genevieve; her cloak had parted, and the lamplight now revealed the full swell of her breasts above the pale gown she wore, her lips a full and tempting pout beneath her golden mask, and his nostrils were being assaulted by the delicate floral perfume she wore.

All of which was succeeding in making him feel more inclined to drag Genevieve into the privacy of one of the shadowed arbours, before kissing her once again—more than kissing her!—rather than continuing to stroll innocently about the gardens with her as had been his original intention.

‘I am only excited to be here, Benedict, with one of the most handsome gentlemen in England.’

Benedict’s eyes narrowed behind his own mask. ‘If you are hoping, by flirting with me, that you will succeed in diverting my attention from your unanswered question of earlier, then I am afraid you are going to be disappointed.’

She shot him an impatient frown. ‘You are unflatteringly single-minded, Benedict!’

He eyed her mockingly. ‘Unfortunately for you, yes, I am.’ He nodded unapologetically. ‘So …?’

Genevieve drew in a deep breath before answering him reluctantly. ‘It really is nothing of importance …’

‘Then be so kind as to share this “nothing of importance” with me.’

She sighed. ‘If you must know, I received a visit from my stepson earlier today.’

Benedict eyes narrowed. ‘William Forster?’

‘Yes.’

‘And?’

‘And we have never liked each other,’ she dismissed heavily.

‘If that is the case, then why did he bother himself to call upon you?’ His eyes narrowed as he felt Genevieve’s uninjured hand tremble slightly where it rested in the crook of his arm.

‘We are related by marriage, and I am now his father’s widow, thus making me—’

‘I am aware of the relationship, Genevieve,’ Benedict put in evenly. ‘But William Forster has never struck me as a man who bothers himself with any sort of politeness if it is not beneficial to himself.’

She looked up at him sharply in the moonlight. ‘You are personally acquainted with that gentleman?’

‘By reputation only.’ Benedict grimaced. ‘But it is a reputation that does not in the least endear him to me,’ he added grimly as he recalled the tales he had heard whispered at his clubs of the present Duke of Woollerton’s activities; unlike Benedict, William Forster was known to be a frequent visitor to some of the seedier brothels and gambling dens of London, his taste questionable at best and disgusting at worst!

Genevieve appeared to relax slightly. ‘I have never found his … character to be in the least appealing either. But the connection is there, so I fear we must both put a polite face on things. Indeed, William called to inform me that tomorrow the announcement of his engagement will appear in the newspapers, along with his wedding next month, to the Earl of Ramsey’s daughter.’

‘With the intention of inviting you to the wedding?’

‘Lord, I hope not!’ The words left Genevieve’s lips before she had chance to stop them, her cheeks warming as she instantly found herself the focus of Benedict’s narrowed
black gaze. ‘That is …’ She took her hand from the crook of his arm as they stepped aside to avoid another group of revellers. ‘I believe William visited me only so that he might inform me that, upon his wedding day next month, I am to officially become the Dowager Duchess.’

‘Indeed?’

‘Why else would he have called to see me?’

‘I was hoping you might tell me that …?’

Genevieve had absolutely no intentions of confiding anything to Benedict with regard to William Forster. Indeed, her memories of the beatings he had enjoyed inflicting upon her at his father’s behest so distressed Genevieve that she could not bear to think of them now. For fear, she knew, that if she did so she might break down completely. Which would never do in the company of such an astute and single-minded gentleman as Benedict Lucas. ‘There is nothing to tell. He called to see me, told me of his marriage and then left.’

‘Nothing else …?’

‘Could we not just enjoy our walk through the gardens now, Benedict?’ she prompted somewhat agitatedly.

‘Rather than continue to talk of William Forster?’

She shot Benedict an irritated glare. ‘And cease talking of anything!’

‘I am willing to forgo further conversation about William Forster for the moment—’

‘That is very generous of you!’

‘—but not so in regard to what answer you gave Suffolk earlier today in regard to his invitation to ride with him in the park tomorrow morning.’

Genevieve’s eyes widened. ‘So you
were
listening to me earlier?’

‘Every prattling, nonsensical word,’ he confirmed drily.

Genevieve frowned her displeasure. ‘You are being unkind, Benedict.’

‘But I am not a fool,’ he assured firmly. ‘And for me to allow you to go riding alone with Suffolk in the park tomorrow morning, or any other time, without cautioning you that you will more than likely find yourself mounted in another way at the first convenient grove of trees would be very foolish of me indeed!’ His face appeared all dark and satanic angles in the moonlight.

‘Are all eligible gentlemen of the
ton
of a certain age as … devious and set in their pursuit of pleasure?’

‘I have no idea.’ He shrugged. ‘I can only
warn you of what I know of men such as Sandhurst and Suffolk.’

‘And in doing so you are seriously in danger of overstepping the bounds of our newly formed friendship.’ She eyed him primly.

Benedict gave a humourless smile. ‘Was the kiss we shared earlier not also “seriously overstepping the bounds of our newly formed friendship”?’

Genevieve clutched her cloak more tightly about her as a gentle breeze rustled through the trees. ‘We did not share a kiss—you took one!’

‘Strange you should think that,’ he drawled derisively. ‘When I distinctly remember the parting of your lips so that we might deepen the kiss?’

Genevieve’s cheeks flared with embarrassed colour even as she looked about them self-consciously to see if anyone might have overheard their conversation; luckily everyone else strolling the pathways seemed intent only on their own pleasure. ‘I admit I was momentarily too taken back to do anything other than respond, but that does not alter the fact that you were the one to instigate the kiss.’

Benedict chuckled huskily. ‘Or that you are hoping for me to “instigate” another one, perhaps
even more than a kiss, before this evening is over?’

Genevieve had no idea whether she was hoping or dreading such an occurrence, although her response to his earlier kisses was daringly reassuring of the former, to say the least! ‘You really are the most insufferable, conceited—’ She broke off as he gave another chuckle. ‘I fail to see what is so funny, Benedict!’

‘Why, you are, my dear Genevieve.’ He eyed her derisively. ‘For believing, for one single moment, that I will allow myself to be diverted, even by thoughts of making love to you under the moonlight at Vauxhall Gardens, from knowing the answer you gave Suffolk in regard to the two of you riding in the park tomorrow morning.’

If not for the fact that she was wearing delicate silk slippers, and would no doubt have caused herself pain on the gravel pathway beneath those slippers, Genevieve would have stamped her foot in temper at this gentleman’s unshakeable—and equally as infuriating!—single-mindedness.

As it was she could only scowl at him—a completely wasted scowl, when Benedict could not even see it behind her golden mask.
‘If you must know, I turned down Suffolk’s invitation for tomorrow morning.’

‘I am glad to hear it.’ He nodded grimly.

‘But I am seriously considering accepting for the morning following that one,’ Genevieve finished triumphantly. ‘I only refused for tomorrow because I felt sure I would not wish to rise so early in the morning, after what will probably be a late night this evening.’

Benedict stared down at her in frustration, again wondering how it was that a woman of such experience could be so worryingly naïve in regard to the gentlemen of the ton. Suffolk was both a handsome rogue and notorious for his exploits in the bedchamber and no doubt fully intended to seduce Genevieve the moment the two of them had reached a place he considered private enough for that seduction to take place!

Unless, of course, that was the appeal the invitation held for Genevieve?

Benedict’s mouth firmed. ‘And would I be right in supposing, that an early ride in the park, alone with a handsome gentleman, is yet more of that “adventure and fun” you hunger for?’

Genevieve eyed him impishly. ‘Suffolk
is
very handsome, is he not?’

Benedict bit back his impatience with the habit Genevieve had of latching on to the least important of his comments. ‘He holds no appeal for me, of course.’

‘Of course.’ She chuckled softly.

‘But I can see how his golden good looks might … hold appeal for some women,’ Benedict concluded.

‘I believe you might apply that to any woman with red blood flowing in her veins,’ she corrected ruefully.

‘Maybe so,’ he continued firmly.

‘What do you have in the basket, Benedict?’ she prompted with a teasing glance at the basket he still carried.

In truth, Benedict had forgotten all about the damned picnic basket during their sometimes-heated conversation; indeed, Genevieve seemed capable of making him forget most things.

Such as the very reason he had first approached her, his idea to use her as a shield for his activities for the Crown apparently forgotten, or rather dismissed, once he became better acquainted with this often exasperating and yet beautiful and enticing woman …

‘Benedict …?’

He sighed. ‘The basket contains our supper and a blanket upon which we might sit and eat it.’

‘Oh, how wonderful of you to think of doing something so romantic!’ Her eyes glowed with her pleasure even as she threw her arms about his neck to hug him tightly before stepping back self-consciously, her gaze no longer meeting his. ‘Might we go into one of the secluded arbours? Oh, please, Benedict!’ She looked up at him pleadingly.

‘If that is what would make you happy.’ Benedict was still too taken aback by the unabashed warmth of Genevieve’s hug to even think of denying her.

He was not a man that people hugged. At least, not without invitation. And, despite what the
ton
might think in regard to his sexual exploits over the years, those invitations had been few and far between. Genevieve, with her warmth and exuberance for life, had not even considered waiting for him to make such an invitation, but had merely acted with her impulsiveness of nature.

‘Oh, I believe I should like it above all things!’ She smiled up at him glowingly now.

And Benedict, fool that he undoubtedly was—and despite having claimed otherwise
only minutes ago!—found he wanted to give Genevieve, at least for tonight, exactly what she wanted …

‘I
s this the time in the evening when the gentleman would usually make indecent advances?’ Genevieve enquired carefully as she knelt up on the blanket to pack the remains from their picnic back into the basket. In the light of the lanterns hanging from the surroundings trees they had both removed their masks, their cloaks also discarded in the gentle warmth of the summer evening, the sound of a band playing and other people talking and laughing just a low hum in the distance.

Benedict drew his breath in sharply before answering her. ‘It is to be hoped, Genevieve, that if I were to make advances, either now or at some time in the future, that I would wish for you to consider them to be at least halfway
decent!’ He sat beneath a tall oak tree, watching her, his arm resting across one of his bent knees.

She laughed softly. ‘And fun?’

There was that word again. Fun. It was not a word, or a condition, which Benedict was accustomed to think of in regard to his own life. ‘As I have already told you, I am much too old to indulge in such nonsense as fun, Genevieve.’