To Ruin a Rake (19 page)

“That one was Harriett’s doing.”

“Yet another talent, Lady Harriett?” said Manchester, turning to her. “You are full of surprises. What other hidden gifts have you, I wonder?” he asked, raising a suggestive brow.

Kicking him again would have been a real pleasure, but for her father’s benefit Harriett instead smiled sweetly. “A good magician never reveals all of his—or
her
—tricks.” She returned her attention to her plate, which was now being replenished with a medley of buttered legumes.

“If you enjoy gardens, then you should come and visit Kimbolton,” said Manchester. “Father hired Brown to redesign ours several years ago. You are all invited, of course.”

In the periphery, she saw her father’s smile broaden. “We shall be delighted,” he answered. “I understand Lord Cobham recently hired Brown to do for him.”

“Yes, he has in—”

“How wonderful!” exclaimed Cat, wriggling with what appeared to be barely contained excitement. “Perhaps I might be inspired to design a gazebo for your garden as well, Your Grace.”

The beginnings of a groan tried to escape Harriett. She quashed it.

“I would be most honored, Lady Catherine,” replied Manchester.

Papa raised his glass. “May our friendship bloom like the gardens we so adore.”

This time, Harriett
did
groan aloud, albeit very softly.

Manchester turned merry eyes on her. “To friendship,” he murmured, taking a sip.

Forced to raise her glass as well, she echoed the sentiment through clenched teeth. After dinner, they returned to the salon, and once again Harriett was forced to walk beside their guest.

“Lady Harriett, I must say I find your family quite charming.”

Her answer to the compliment was a glare.

“Particularly your sister, who seems bent on appearing the fool.”

Harriett’s heart skipped. “Cat is still very young and immature, Your Grace.”

“It’s no use, Harriett,” he said, smiling. “I know it’s a sham. I overheard the two of you at the Penworth ball as you were planning your escape—from me. She’s nowhere near this silly or naïve.”

Instinct told her to freeze as might a mouse when confronted with a snake, but she commanded her legs to continue their forward motion. “Leave her out of this,” she whispered, turning to face him. “Her crime is that she is loyal to me. She knows I dislike you, but nothing of the reasons why.”

“So she doesn’t know you desire me?”

Her pulse leaped. “I do
not
—”

“Liar,” he said with a low chuckle that made her hot all over. Reaching up, he caressed her cheek with his knuckles. She attempted to bat him away, but he only took her hand in his. “We both know better than that, Harriett.”

“That is the fourth time today you have touched me without permission,” she said, trying to disengage her hand. Despite her intent to be cool and detached, her voice sounded odd in her own ears, deeper and rough at the edges.

The friction of his fingertips sliding against her sensitive palm as he slowly let go sent a shiver down the back of her neck.

“Are you keeping count, my lady?” he said, his lips slanting in a wry grin. “Is my touching you such a momentous event to preoccupy you so?”

She gaped at him. How was it that he so easily turned everything she said back against her? “You show your lack of maturity, making everything about—” She stopped herself just in time. Her cheeks heated.

“About?” he prompted, clearly enjoying himself.

“I refuse to rise to your bait,” she told him, infusing her tone with as much steel as she could muster.

“Bait? Am I fishing for something, then? What, I wonder?” His light brown eyes gleamed. “I would give you that which you desire but for the presence of others, you know.”

“My desire is to be as far away from you as possible!” she hissed, whirling away to pursue Papa and Cat.

Manchester’s quiet laughter followed her.

The moment they reentered the salon, she turned her back to the men and bade her sister come close. “You can leave off the act now. It’s no use.”

“Why?” whispered Cat. “What happened back there? I heard him laughing.”

“I cannot explain now, but suffice it to say I’ve been cornered.”

“Cornered?” said her sister with quiet alarm.

Harriett nodded and held a finger to her lips. “All is well. I’ll just have to find a way to be rid of him myself. You cannot help me.”

“
Can
you do it on your own?”

With a nervous glance at the man who had invaded her work, her home, and her life, she sent a fervent prayer heavenward. “I hope so. For the moment, however, I must bide my time and wait for an opportunity to present itself. Until then I’ve no choice but to play along. Now, let us stop all of this whispering before Papa becomes displeased.”

They talked of the doings of friends and upcoming balls until the menfolk finished their brandy and conversation—which centered on Parliament and Bolingbroke’s attempts to gather support against Walpole. Harriett would have liked to join the discussion, but knew Papa would disapprove.

It was late when Manchester at last rose and made to depart. “Dunhaven, it has been a most pleasurable evening. Your hospitality is unrivaled, and your company and that of your daughters has been a delight.”

Her father’s face lit with joy. “Your Grace is too kind. Please know that my humble home is open to you at any time.”

Manchester bowed before the women. “Lady Catherine, I look forward to seeing you again.” His eyes danced as they met Harriett’s. “And you, my lady—I shall see
you
on Monday as is customary. We have much to discuss, you and I. The Hospital is undergoing many changes and we must work together to see they are properly executed. Shall we say nine o’ clock?”

“She will be there with all punctuality,” said her father with enthusiasm.

The changes at the Hospital were the last thing on Manchester’s mind. Harriett dipped a curtsy and kept her gaze on the carpet lest her wrath be seen by Papa. “Of course, Your Grace.” She stayed behind, contemplating murder as her father saw their guest out.

“I think Papa likes him,” murmured Cat as the men’s voices faded.

“How unfortunate—for them both,” Harriett grumbled.

“You
could
play this to your advantage, you know.”

Her sly tone brought Harriett’s head up. “I know what you’re thinking, and it won’t—.”

“Oh, hush and just listen for a moment. Your enemy he may be, but immune to your charms he most certainly is not.” A golden brow arched. “I watched him tonight. He could hardly take his eyes off of you. And don’t you shake your head at me—I know lust when I see it. He desires you. And you, unless I am sorely mistaken...”

Harriett squirmed under her sister’s knowing gaze. It was time to come clean. “I won’t lie to you and say I
don’t
find him somewhat attractive,” she said after a moment. “But how can I even contemplate such a thing when I dislike him so?” A look of triumph crossed her sister’s face, and she panicked. “No! He is vile, rude, and—and I could never
marry such a—”

“Who said anything about marriage?”

That stopped Harriett dead in her tracks. “Catherine Dunhaven! If you think for one instant that I would
ever
—”

“I would never suggest such a thing,” said her sister, laughing. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t use his want of you to your advantage. Why not play along for a little while? See what comes of it?”

“Because only one thing can come of it—trouble.” Terrified of being overheard, Harriett dropped her voice a bit lower. “If Papa gets it into his head that I should marry him—”

“Oh, I think it’s already gone beyond that, don’t you?”

She was right. Again. “Perhaps. But I know his mind. Manchester will wait until the perfect opportunity arises and then humiliate me.”

“So strike before he does.”

“I can’t take the risk,” said Harriett, thinking of Arabella. “I
have
to marry this Season, Cat, and I cannot afford to be wasting my time playing games with him. Besides, he has not asked to court me. Papa would have mentioned it if he had.”

“Perhaps not yet, but I can almost guarantee he will in the very near future.”

That settled it. “Then I shall make certain he is not the first to do so,” Harriett told her firmly.

Cat’s brows pinched. “How?”

“Lord Russell.”

“
What?
” Cat stared at her with undisguised incredulity. “But—”

“He’s not so bad, really,” Harriett said, keeping her face straight with effort. “Not when I think of certain alternatives, anyway. I shall first thing in the morning send him an invitation to call on Monday.”

“But Papa—”

“Will be absolutely delighted to learn I have more than one option,” Harriett insisted. “He has been after me to start garnering male attention since before the start of the Season. Well, he is about to get his wish. I shall encourage Lord Russell to call this week and then begin gathering other candidates as quickly as possible. It is time I went on the hunt in earnest, Cat. I hope you will not mind.”

“Why would I mind?” asked her sister with a confused frown.

“We will be fishing from the same pond. Many a young lady has bemoaned having to compete with a sibling.”

But her sister only laughed. “We are two vastly different souls, Harriett. As such, I attract a very different sort of man than would be interested in you. I have no concerns that any prospective suitor of mine would be lured away by you. And if one does choose you over me, well, I should be far better pleased to learn of it
before
I become permanently attached to him.”

Harriett stared at her. “You know, don’t you? About Arabella.”

A much older woman looked back at her from Cat’s eyes. “Yes. She confided in me just before she left.”

“When she gave you the earrings.”

Her sister’s smile was faint. “Yes. And you need not worry. I shan’t tell a soul.”

“Thank the Lord,” Harriett sighed, relieved. “At least now I need not bear the weight of that knowledge alone.” She leaned close. “Now do you understand why I cannot encourage Manchester? We might be attracted to each other physically, but we are like oil and water in every other respect. To play such games with him would be asking for trouble of the worst kind.”

Cat nodded. “I do understand. But again I must tell you I think it would be more to your advantage to keep him close. Let him
think
he’s winning and he’ll lose interest. And anyway, you cannot stop him calling here under the guise of his new found friendship with Papa—unless you wish to tell him the reason why.”

Harriett’s heart sank. “That, I cannot do.” She looked at Cat and nodded. “Very well. I shall allow him to think he has cowed me—for the time being.”

It was an unpleasant compromise, to be sure, but it would buy her some much needed time. Better a tense peace than an all out war. She had to work fast and attract some serious suitors. Lord Russell would be the first.

As he entered his carriage, Roland savored the taste of sweet victory. He’d cornered the fiery dragon in her lair and had won the day. It was a rare triumph, considering the record thus far.

He knew he’d given Dunhaven false hope—the man had practically been beside himself at the prospect of ensnaring a duke for a son-in-law—but he could see no other way to manage Harriett. Based on her reaction to him at the Penworth ball, he’d concluded that if foul temper and brute intimidation hadn’t driven her away, perhaps their opposite would.

It was a risky gamble, but if it worked as he anticipated, he’d soon be free of her. As he’d said, he wouldn’t
force
her to leave, but he intended to make it the most palatable choice among her options. Judging by the look on her face tonight, he could almost count the days until she fled the place—and him. She’d be back with her family where she belonged, and he’d be able to get back to doing what he wanted without worrying about her getting in the way of it.

Her family. Now there was a mystery. Lady Dunhaven had died years ago in childbirth, so why hadn’t Dunhaven married again? Harriett had sisters, three of them. The eldest was married, but with three daughters still living at home, the man ought to have married again if only to provide a mother for them.

That sister of Harriett’s was certainly a piece of work—the guileful “Cat” could have beaten any one of Rich’s actresses for the leading role in one of his plays. He pitied the man who ended up saddled with the little wench. Poor fellow would likely never know a moment’s peace.

He suspected Harriett’s husband would never know a moment’s peace, either, though for very different reasons. He needed to be very careful. If all went well, she would surrender gracefully and he would reward her for her cooperation by letting her “rid” herself of him. If not, he might have to take it a step further. The idea of threatening her with asking Dunhaven for permission to court her was both strangely exciting and completely terrifying. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

Or do I?
The quiet inner whisper surprised him. What would he do if he somehow accidentally ended up shackled to the woman? He would most definitely finish what she’d started at the Penworth ball, that much was certain. The dress she’d worn tonight had been a deliberate taunt. But would the pleasure of bedding her be worth a lifetime chained to a Fury?

The part of him that spoke from below answered an immediate and enthusiastic
yes
. If he was forced to marry her, he’d make certain she enjoyed their marriage bed along with him...but would she ever grow to like him?

‘Should you manage to win her affection, your ferocious Harriett will likely prove as ardent an ally as she is an unpleasant enemy,’
Rich had said—along with a lot of rot about humbling himself, apologizing, and earning her regard. But even if he did all of those things, would it be possible to make her like him after all that had transpired between them?