Trials of Artemis (2 page)

"What
are you reading?" he asked, voice low and husky at the side of her neck.

"Thucydides,"
she managed in a strangled whisper.

He
chuckled, his breath stirring the strands of hair at her nape. "Planning a
war instead of a seduction? What am I saying, you probably consider seduction
to be a war."

Planning
a seduction? Good gracious, who
did
he think she was? Why would anyone be planning a seduction in the library of
all places? Her mind turned frantically like a moth trapped inside a jar. She
had never done more than hold a man’s hand before, and that only briefly. This
wasn’t only wrong, it was
forbidden
.
Rather than panic her that thought relaxed her. She enjoyed doing forbidden
things. Climbing trees, racing horses, practicing swords. Perhaps this
forbidden activity would be just as invigorating.

Jack
felt as though he were drawing her into a cocoon of his warmth and scent. His
lips touched her neck and her own blush in reaction added to the sense of heat
so that she almost felt she had walked into a fire. His other arm came around
her and pulled the book from her fingers, laying it aside. He had eased her
back against himself and her shoulders now rested on his chest while he
continued his slow journey downward of touches and kisses. Her initial shock
had worn off and her body was languidly surrendering. His nearness was new and
thrilling and surprisingly relaxing. She melted back into him and was rewarded
with another chuckle and a gentle nibble on her ear. She shivered in response
and his arms tightened as his fingers became bolder in their exploration, one
hand sweeping under her breasts while the other traveled down, pressing her
back so that her derriere fit snugly against him. With that the sensations went
from soothing to alarming and she tried to wriggle away.

He
murmured in her ear again. "You are just as luscious as you look. More so.
Let me taste you."

Becoming
outraged she pushed away and turned to address him. “Sir! You - ”

He
took her lips, covering her protest. Tasting, indeed. He sampled her lips with
gentle suckling and licking. His errant hand had made its way to palm her
breast and on her gasp he took the opportunity to plunder her mouth with his
tongue. Jack shivered again. She had never felt anything like this before. Had
never thought that it was even possible. Her body throbbed with hope and want
and need but her mind was beginning to rebel even more at the outrage. She gave
him a savage push and managed to lever away from him. The damnable man was the
size of a house!

As
her seducer drew back from the kiss and looked down at her face his own was illuminated
by the lamp on the bookcase. She saw unfashionably long dark hair and dark,
heavey-lidded eyes. The eyes widened with shock.

"Who
in the bloody hell are you?" he choked out.

He
was withdrawing his hands from her when the side door of the library opened and
Jack heard a woman's voice, a throaty contralto, coming in from the hallway.
"No, Lord Wynders, I don't need an escort but it is lovely of you to
ask."

"Well,
my dear, it wouldn't do for one of my guests to be left unattended at our
soiree."

Jack
turned toward the door and her seducer took a step back as the woman entered
the room. Outlined by the light from the hall all Jack could see was a tall,
curvaceous figure cutting a rather fashionable silhouette. It was apparent the
woman had seen them because of her surprised but understated, "Oh."

Within
a moment of that shock the woman began to withdraw but Lord Wynders had scented
scandal and pushed the door open further. The light from the hallway spilled a
feeble ray across the floor and dimly lit the occupants at the bookcase and
Wynders drew himself up. "Harrington," he said shortly.

"Wynders,"
Jack's seducer replied with a brief nod.

"Miss
Walters," Wynders said, with a nod in Jack's direction. Jack could feel
the tension in the room rising as the four occupants eyed each other.

Jack
dipped a quick curtsy. "Lord Wynders."

Another
voice in the hallway, this one a woman with a higher and more patrician tone.
"Darling, whatever are you doing in the library?"

Lord
Wynders moved aside to allow his wife into the room. "I suspect..."
he said.

Harrington
grabbed Jack's hand and pulled her forward, cutting off Wynders.
"Congratulating us on our upcoming nuptials." Jack looked at him in
panic and he pulled her tight against him. "Although we would appreciate
your discretion since the particulars haven't been worked out with her father
yet."

They
had drawn close enough to their unexpected audience for Jack to see their faces.
Lord Wynders looked speculative, Lady Wynders looked delighted about this
on dit,
and the mystery woman looked
sympathetic. Upon closer inspection Jack could see that she was the widow
Lady... Spencer? Spinner? Undoubtedly the woman with whom Harrington had
planned to rendezvous in the library this evening.

Lord
Wynders broke the silence. "Miss Walters, perhaps you would like for me to
fetch your father so that they can discuss this?"

Jack
glanced up at Harrington and then back to her host. She mustered a smile that
she hoped wasn’t too sickly. The year she had spent recovering from a broken
arm after falling off her horse came rushing back to her. Sometimes things were
forbidden because they were dangerous. “No thank you my Lord. Don’t worry Papa
with it now.”

Returning
to the main ballroom they made their way around the periphery in a slow stroll,
absently nodding to acquaintances in a typical display of a potential couple.
It maintained the fiction presented to the Wynders while not making a clear
commitment to the other attendees. Jack was desperately trying to remember
where she had heard the name Harrington before. He was an aristocrat, that was
clear, but what kind? Younger son of a titled man? A baron himself perhaps? It
was rare to find a man a full head taller than herself but she didn’t remember
him from the soirees she had attended in her first two seasons. Perhaps he had
only recently returned to Town. It was still quite early in the season so
perhaps he only attended smaller affairs. Her mind churned through
possibilities while he seemed content to maintain the silence between them.

Presently
he stopped and spoke to someone Jack very much recognized, the Duke of Beloin.
This was a surprise to her since the young duke was known to be a bit high in
the instep. As the duke turned to address her escort with a friendly smile Jack
remembered. Harrington. Bloody hell, it was the
Earl
of Harrington. She pasted a false smile on her face and began
to wonder how on earth she would be getting out of this tangle.

Regardless
of his desires to the opposite, the next day did dawn for Gideon Wolfe, Earl of
Harrington.
 
He looked up at the Walters
townhouse with some trepidation. He had already avoided the early morning
hours, convincing himself that he shouldn't assume Walters would be up and
about like himself. But there was no avoiding it any longer. Gazing at the
black lacquer door he thought it was like his future, an interminable black
void. Marriage had not been something he was planning imminently, perhaps
never. His solicitor pestered him periodically about the succession and as a
result Gideon knew exactly which cousins were to inherit and in what order. Why
should he want a wife? In his experience women were only pleasant in the
beginning of a relationship, after which they became clingy, demanding
termagants. His mother had been an excellent example of the species, nagging
his father into an early grave. Firmly shoving aside his morose thoughts
he grabbed the brass knocker to rap smartly at the
door. It was opened by a butler of middling years who had that peculiar talent
of seeming both subservient and dismissive at once.

"How
may I help you, sir?"

Gideon
offered his card. "The Earl of Harrington to see Mr. Walters, if you
please."

The
butler accepted the card and bowed Gideon into the front hall and preceded him
through the hallway. The townhouse was what Gideon would have expected for a
gentleman of some connections and inherited wealth.
A
subdued decor, aged but with a timeless quality. The Walters were cousins of
the present Viscount Whitemarch, if he recalled correctly, from the branch of a
younger son some generations back. Certainly enough of a pedigree that no one
should be surprised by the selection of his countess, provided they could keep
the particulars of the reasons for the engagement from the society papers.
He had been surprised when there had been no mention
in the morning papers and had to credit the Lord and Lady Wynders with more
discretion than he thought them capable. For a brief moment he had considered
the danger passed and he did not need to offer for the chit, but the moment had
been fleeting. Truth would often out, and the more unpleasant the truth the
more likely that it would get tongues to wagging. Honor dictated that he
couldn't leave any woman without the protection he could offer in such
circumstances. If the story were to get out, at worst the
true
story, then not only would the girl’s reputation be ruined but
perhaps that of her entire family. Nor would such a salacious tale help
Gideon’s own standing, especially if he were to act without the honor expected
of any gentleman of his class. Maintaining his reputation in Parliament
dictated this action if nothing else did.

The
butler stepped into an open door and bowed to the occupant. "The Right
Honorable Gideon Wolfe, Earl of Harrington, sir."

Gideon's
first impression of his future father in law was the voice saying, "Very
good, Villiers. Show him in, please." It was a tired voice, resigned. Not
the voice of a man delighted that his daughter had finagled an Earl by whatever
means necessary. Villiers bowed Gideon into the room, a large study with maple-paneled
walls and warm sunshine spilling in from tall windows. A figure stood by the
desk, a slender man of perhaps forty years who stood at about the same height
as his daughter, and shared her pale brown hair. The family resemblance was
unmistakable. But where Miss Walters had forest green eyes, a detail Gideon had
noted when she had turned to him in surprise at introduction to a duke, her
father's were a watery blue. Gideon bowed. "Thank you for receiving me,
sir."

That
caused Mr. Walters to quirk a small smile. "Yes, I'm famed for my tendency
to toss out all the nobility that comes by."

Gideon
hesitated. When he had imagined this exchange it certainly hadn't featured a
potential father in law who was both resigned and sarcastic.

Walters
waved a hand. "My apologies for the attempt at humor. Please, have a seat.
Brandy?"

"Yes,
please." It was all he could do to not suggest that Walters hand him the
whole bottle.

Returning
from the sideboard with two glasses Walters sank into the guest chair next to
Gideon after handing him his drink, rather than sitting behind the desk.
"So," he said without preamble, "you think you want to marry my
daughter."

Choking
a bit on the swallow of brandy he had taken, Gideon managed. "Of
course."

Walters
had crossed his legs and begun jiggling his foot while staring down into his
own brandy glass. "I have to warn you that Jacqueline is not in favor of
the marriage."

Gideon
frantically searched his memory. Was Jacqueline the daughter or the wife? He
couldn't recall that he knew either name so stayed silent.

"My
wife is overjoyed of course. Her father was a merchant and now her daughter
will be a countess."

A-ha!
Jacqueline was the daughter. His future wife and he hadn't known her name. Nor
that her mother had come from the merchant class. And her father didn't seem
inclined toward the match either. Perhaps Gideon
would
ask for the bottle.

Walters'
pale blue gaze rose to meet his own again. "From all that I've heard about
you, Harrington, I wouldn't have thought you to be a man of few words."

"I'm,
ah, overcome with the event."

"So,
here I have a daughter who spent the whole of the night trying to convince me
to reject your suit, and a potential son in law who behaves like a man marching
to the gallows. Certainly not the recipe for a happy marriage, do you
think?"

Struck
by that unexpected comment Gideon asked, "Is that important to you, that
your daughter be happy?"

Walters
foot stopped jiggling. "Of course it is." He looked off toward the
sunny windows and sipped at his brandy. "Perhaps one day when you have
children of your own you will understand."

"I
can only hope so, sir."

Walters
looked at him again. "When you hadn't arrived by nine this morning Jack
decided you weren't going to come and finally went to sleep. She was
relieved."

Gideon
now stared down into his drink. "I didn't want to assume you would be up
early."

"On
a day when our eldest daughter is to become engaged? I worry that you aren't
showing a great deal of wisdom or insight."

The
man wasn't intimidated by rank in the least and his acerbic comments were
getting on the earl's last nerve. "My apologies, sir," Gideon said
stiffly. "I didn't think of it that way."