The Rake and the Wallflower (24 page)

So she had found adventure after all. And an adventurer. The rasp of his fingers made her warm all over. When she lifted their joined hands to see what he was doing, he smiled, tightening his grip as his thumb traced circles on her palm. His dark eyes gleamed with pleasure, clearly entranced.

“Why aren’t you at a ball this evening, Miss Seabrook?” he murmured into her ear. They had drawn behind the bookcase, out of sight of those clustered about the table. Dr. Sparks was approaching a critical point in the experiment, but Laura no longer cared.

“My sponsor is annoyed that I outshine my sister, so he refused to take me to Almack’s. Lady Cunningham followed his lead,” she said, stretching the truth. “She wants me banned so her daughter can snare a high-ranking lord.”

“Banned. Such a strong word.”

“But true.” She sighed most tragically. “People are jealous that men vie for my favors.”

“How unfair. Perhaps I can change their minds, my dear. As your champion, I can slay these silly society dragons. Have you plans for tomorrow?”

She shook her head. Lady Edmondson’s note withdrawing the card to her rout had denounced her in scathing terms. Perhaps it was time to carve a new niche for herself in the wider world of adventurers. Her mistake had been to expect such men to waste time on frivolous parties with their rigid rules and disapproving eyes.

His other hand stroked down her arm. “The electricity society will meet again tomorrow. Dr. Sparks wants to repeat the treatment to make sure the spirit is truly gone and not merely stuck at another point in its journey. Join us. We can discuss your situation. I should have devised a remedy by then.”

“How chivalrous, my lord. Thank you.” A hand brushed her cheek, light as gossamer, but she felt the touch clear to her toes.

“It will be a pleasure, my dear. So charming a lady as yourself deserves only the best. And I will see that you find it.” Those gathered at the table gasped in anticipation. “I believe it is time. Come.” A clock began to strike midnight.

“Hold hands to confine the spirit to the corner,” ordered Lady Spectre.

As the group formed a semicircle, Lord Roger’s thumb continued to caress Laura’s palm, quickening her breath into shallow pants. She met his glittering gaze before reluctantly turning her eyes to the corner, where a light mist was gathering. Her heart raced.

“We are ready.”

Lady Spectre had fastened her wires to the chair. Using wooden tongs, Dr. Sparks raised the other ends.

Miss Watson fainted as the mist wavered, shrinking into a form that might have been human. Laura gasped. Lord Roger pulled her against his side, sliding their joined hands along her waist to steady her.

“Now!” ordered Lady Spectre.

Dr. Sparks touched one wire to the knob and the other to the jar’s base. A blinding flash ripped through the room.

“Oh!” gasped Laura, burying her face in Lord Roger’s shoulder.

“It is quite all right, my dear,” he murmured, brushing her breast as his arm tightened around her.

She could barely breathe for the excitement coursing through her veins.

“Success!” declared Dr. Sparks.

Laura forced her eyes toward the corner. The mist was gone. The smell of singed wool hung heavily on the air — and something else she couldn’t name, though it made her scalp tingle.

Lord Roger remained at her side for the remainder of the meeting. Dr. Sparks concluded his demonstration by forming the group into a circle, again with joined hands. He grasped the wire while the servant cranked furiously. Electricity tingled from one person to the next, heightening the sensation of Lord Roger’s bare hand against her own.

By the time she reached home, Laura glowed. Lord Roger had insisted on accompanying her, proclaiming that a maid and footman were insufficient protection so late at night. He left her with another of those butterfly touches and the promise of even more excitement tomorrow. She could hardly wait.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Mary smiled as she headed for her room. Almack’s had been exhilarating. And she would be wed in less than a week.

For the first time since her sudden betrothal she considered her wedding night. Gray’s kisses had been different this evening, more demanding and certainly more exciting, awakening urges she’d never felt — which was probably good. While many ladies considered the marriage bed an onerous duty, those who admitted enjoyment seemed closer to their husbands.

She chuckled softly. How many frank conversations had she overheard because people rarely noticed her? Far more than the average miss.

So Gray would likely appreciate a wife who could enjoy his touch. After all, he had vowed fidelity, so he could not seek pleasure elsewhere. And he wanted her.

With their bodies pressed close, she had felt the changes that proved his interest. At first, they had startled her. Before she had worked out what had happened, he had diverted her with news that he’d bought a town house.

But the second time, there had been no mistaking his intent.

The knowledge was heady. No one had ever wanted her. Few men even noticed her, for Laura’s beauty drew every eye. But even that first day before they even knew each other’s name, Gray had treated her with respect. Their shared interests made them friends. Now she knew that he also desired her.

Weakness again washed over her as she recalled that embrace on the balcony. He had rubbed against her, breathing heavily as he murmured her name. A hand on her bottom kept her from pulling away. His tongue had tasted, explored, then devoured until she had to cling with all her strength to keep from melting at his feet. Her breasts still tingled every time she recalled those brief moments.

Six more days. The wonder weakened her knees. Gray had partnered her for a second waltz, stayed by her side between sets, and played the besotted fool all evening. It was no more than she had expected, considering his determination to convince society they’d planned this match. But perhaps it was not all pretense.

Don’t confuse dreams and reality, cautioned her conscience. That is how Laura comes to grief. Just because you lo—

She could not complete the thought, even in her mind. Yes, she was eager for this match. He cut an amazing figure — sleek and confident — putting other man to shame the moment he entered a room. His clothes were elegant, but not extreme. His manners faultless, lacking the affectations so many dandies espoused. His form owed nothing to artifice, nor did his speech. He was a man who created his own fashion rather than followed others. And in the process, he spoke directly to her soul.

Yet she could not abandon caution. Friendship was fine, for he had welcomed it. But until he wanted her heart, she must restrain it. Besotted females had hurt him more than once. She must never add to that pain.

“Home at last?” asked Laura, rushing into the hallway as Mary passed her door. Mary frowned. Laura was wearing her favorite walking dress, and her eyes glittered with excitement.

“I am surprised to find you still awake.” It was nearly two, and Laura’s expression could only spell trouble. Where was the anger that had flared at dinner or the boredom that should have replaced it?

“I only returned half an hour ago.” Her mischievous smile raised new fears.

“From where?” Even Mrs. Burton had canceled Laura’s invitation for tonight. The Burtons were mushrooms willing to accept any connection to the polite world, so their cancellation had thrown Laura into hysterics.

“The Society for the Investigation of Electricity, Spectral Phenomena, and Ancient Legends. Their meeting was more interesting than Almack’s, with its stale cakes and undrinkable orgeat.”

“Really?” Mary’s wariness increased. Laura heaped scorn on anything intellectual. The day Almack’s bored her was the day the family had better look out. She might be exaggerating to soothe her pride, but Mary did not believe it. Alarms were clanging on all sides.

“Yes.” Laura couldn’t stand still, picking up item after item from tables as she paced the hall. “Dr. Sparks demonstrated his electricity machine. It is a powerful force, able to bind the oddest objects together. He stored vast quantities of it in a Leyden jar, then released it to banish the ghost haunting the library.”

“A ghost?” That might explain the excitement, though Laura had never evinced interest in ghosts, either.

“The previous owner. You would have fainted dead away, as Miss Watson did. It started as a wisp of fog, then thickened and twisted into human form.”

Mary shivered.

“Fortunately, Lady Spectre knows how to handle ghosts.”

“How many people attended?”

“Nine.” Laura’s eyes narrowed. “If that scowl implies disapproval, you should know that Frannie and a footman accompanied me. Three other ladies were also present, so there is no need to preach of impropriety.”

“I was not implying anything. I was merely surprised that you would enjoy a scientific gathering. You have demonstrated no interest in the subject previously.”

“I did not know what I was missing. Electricity is marvelously energizing. I’ve not had such fun in years.” Cunning flashed in her eyes. “The gentleman who owns the house is quite handsome — and eminently proper,” she added as Mary opened her mouth. “He was appalled at my plight and promised to restore my standing in society. As a duke’s son, his credit is very high.”

“Then he does not understand your situation. I doubt the Regent could help you at the moment. Tonight’s condemnation sent even Catherine into the vapors.”

Laura flinched, but recovered quickly, examining her hand as if she could not meet Mary’s eyes. “The rumors will soon fade. Lord Roger promised to restore me, and he is a most chivalrous man. Even Lady Beatrice will listen to him.”

“Lord Roger?”

“Lord Roger Duncan.” With the uttering of the name, Laura’s excitement spilled over, sending her dancing along the hallway. “Handsome. Charming. Quite the most wonderful man I’ve ever met. You would not believe how he makes me feel.”

The blood drained from Mary’s head. She opened her mouth, then closed it without uttering a word. Laura’s mood was more fey than ever. Even in the best of times, she rarely listened to advice. Informing her that Lord Roger was a scoundrel who had already ruined at least one innocent would merely pique her interest. There was no telling what she would do. Even revealing that Lord Roger was married might make no difference.

But perhaps she could make Laura think. “Why have we never met him?” she asked carefully. “He has attended none of the Season’s parties, not even the one at Hartleigh House graced by the Regent.”

“He has more important interests than frittering away his time in ballrooms. Besides, he moves in higher circles than we do,” claimed Laura airily.

Higher? Mary stifled a sigh. Arguing would harden Laura’s determination. Yet she had to try. No matter what Laura’s faults, she was still her sister.

“Who introduced him?” she asked.

“Dr. Sparks, but he is also a gentleman. A younger son, I expect. He reminds me of Mr. Billows.” Billows was a neighbor in Devonshire who dabbled in science.

Mary gritted her teeth. Another adventurer. Sparks’s character was probably as false as his name. “One cannot be too cautious. A formal introduction from someone you know is the only defense against scoundrels.”

“Which makes one wonder how you know Grayson,” snapped Laura in one of her lightning changes. “Who introduced
you?”
Retreating to her room, she slammed the door.

Mary blushed. She’d stuck her foot in her mouth that time. Mentioning proper introductions was truly ironic. She had yet to be formally introduced to Gray, the man who had kissed her senseless only three hours ago, and the man she would wed Tuesday morning.

She sighed. She had to warn Blake, though she hated bearing tales. And Gray.

* * * *

Mary slept poorly, awakening with a throbbing headache. She had hoped that ostracism would force Laura to change her ways, but instead it was pushing her into worse indiscretions. Not that society would care. Laura’s arrogance had annoyed too many people. Now that she had handed them a weapon against her, they were wielding it with enthusiasm. Last night’s gossip had been brutal.

Even worse, it looked like Laura had invented the tale about Miss Norton’s elopement with the dancing master. Lord Norton swore on his honor the story was false. Most now believed him, accusing Laura of fostering the lie so she could steal Miss Norton’s court. Miss Norton had unpacked her trunks and headed for Almack’s the moment she heard. While she reveled in a return to favor, whispers accused Laura of spreading other lies, too.

Mary would never have believed Laura could stoop so low, for she knew how painful lies could be. But there was no denying that Laura knew how to manipulate opinion. She had learned the art from a master. And she had never been one to tolerate rivals.

Now Laura faced permanent ostracism. Lady Beatrice had vowed to watch Laura closely, so she would know about her call on Lord Roger. Mary shook her head. What had possessed the girl? It didn’t matter that he was hosting a society of electricity enthusiasts. His reputation was so bad that even calling accompanied by one’s entire family would draw censure.

Sighing, she dressed in a simple gown, pinned her hair in a tidy knot, and went downstairs. It was nearly eleven. Blake and Gray should be in the library.

“Is this import—” Blake abandoned his question the moment the light caught her face. “What is wrong, Mary?”

“Laura.”

“Did she attack you again?” Gray leaped up to take her hand. He sounded furious.

“No.” Mary squeezed gently to calm him. “She is too busy with her own plans to waste time on me.”

“Plans?” Blake stiffened.

Gray led Mary to the couch and settled her by his side. “What now?”

She leaned into Gray, grateful for his protection, though Blake’s anger was not aimed at her. “She sought out the Society for the Investigation of Electricity, Spectral Phenomena, and Ancient Legends last evening.”

Blake’s brows rose. “I’m not familiar with it. Grayson?” He turned to Gray.

“Nor am I, though I know most legitimate science organizations.” He met Mary’s gaze. “You are concerned.”