London's Most Elusive Earl Read online

  That, in itself, was dangerous indeed.

  “Had we music, I’d waltz with you here, no one the wiser.” His eyes darted over her figure, swathed in silk to tease and tempt, hiding all her precious smooth skin and luscious curves.

  “Silence is its own music, isn’t it?”

  Her astute intellect enchanted him as much as her heart-shaped face and perfectly formed lips. He stood before her now and bowed, extending his bare hand in her direction. Whatever game she played, he wished to participate.

  “My lady, may I have this waltz?”

  “I’d be delighted.”

  They said nothing at first. The impact of holding her in his embrace rendered him speechless for several exhales in succession. Her fragrance tempted him to lean in close and taste, feel, explore her silky skin. Orchids. Mayhap it wasn’t a perfume at all, and her skin naturally carried the lovely scent.

  Was this a seductive manipulation not unlike the ploys of rapacious mamas seeking to snare the biggest prize for their marriage-minded daughter? He didn’t believe her so coy or devious. Without doubt, he would be fine at the outcome, his life already splintered into multiple directions, but would she think something of their association that would never come to pass?

  She wanted a future he could not give.

  Still, Mills was wrong for her. Mills was an unrepentant rakehell who’d made use of too many women to list. No sooner had the thought formed than Lindsey realized he spoke more of himself than his friend.

  “Why are you here?” His voice was nothing more than a rasp in their silence.

  Her brow winged up with the question. “Why are you?”

  He almost laughed at her audacious parry.

  Her cheeks flushed a becoming shade, and he moved closer still.

  “I’ve tired of the crowds and conversation. I’m not usually in attendance at society’s more formal gatherings.” His voice softened, though he was reminded of why he was suddenly forced to skulk around old estates and barter for information. He wouldn’t allow his father to intrude on this moment. “And what is your reason?”

  * * * *

  Caroline begged her heart to calm. She’d foolishly wished Lindsey would find her in the study, and while that wish may have turned itself inside out, they were still here together, and that was all that mattered. “I hoped you would be here.”

  A sensual gleam lit his dark eyes before it extinguished just as quickly.

  “You’re far too honest for your own good. Other gentlemen will take advantage of that fine quality.”

  Now a hard glint entered his stare, as if the suggestion alone spurred him to anger.

  “Advice from a renowned rakehell and scoundrel?” she teased.

  He chuckled, caught in his own game, and the sinfully rich sound echoed through her though their bodies barely touched. They stood motionless within the dance frame, but she wouldn’t complain. The pressure of his hand at her waist moved her closer the smallest degree. The warmth that seeped through his palm caused her to wish they touched skin to skin, without barriers between them.

  “One with a bit of sense.”

  “I will take your warning under advisement then. You know more of London society than I.”

  “Ah, that is true. You’re newly arrived but fast becoming acquainted.”

  “My father wished to leave Italy with haste. It suited my mother and I’m of an age…”

  He didn’t press her to finish. “A measure of years instead of depth of experience is a careless way to view life.”

  She considered his comment. It was peculiar and quite telling, if nothing else. “But optimism is the greatest strength.” She continued with her raillery.

  He seemed to ponder his answer thoughtfully. “Every strength can be a weakness, given the right conditions. When you discover this to be true, you turn that weakness into a strength so it doesn’t destroy you, scar you indelibly, or cause you regret.”

  She accepted his shrewd answer as the confession it was, a brief peek into his soul. And then she continued, anxious to keep their conversation light. “I suspect you possess a wealth of insight,” Caroline countered. “Won’t you share a little?”

  “It’s true I’ve lingered near the edge of the ballroom floor, an observer by choice, out of range of motivated mothers and their flighty giggling daughters.”

  “Might I remind you I witnessed the scene in Lord Albertson’s study. I have an idea where you linger and what range you occupy.”

  “Saucy minx.” He looked at her directly. “You’re far too clever for your own good.”

  She was unsure if his remark was complimentary. “You believed I’d take one glance at your infamous smile and melt into a puddle at your feet?” She held his stare without blinking. “You’re too arrogant by half.”

  “You like me anyway.”

  She had no idea how to answer that.

  “I could offer you a few scraps of information, if you desire. If nothing else, I could advise you on which gentlemen to avoid.”

  Her mother’s frequent advice was an irritant, most especially as it consistently contradicted Caroline’s thoughts and feelings. It would be curious to hear what Lindsey added to the subject.

  “An expert on eligible bachelors then, are you?” she added, enjoying the moment.

  “Not at all.” He chuckled and the vibration of his rich voice echoed through her. “Though I’m most knowledgeable in the functioning of the male mind.”

  “I see.” She ventured a smile. “You would tell me with whom to converse and what to say?”

  “I wouldn’t dare.” He shook his head slightly. “You need no assistance in that area. You’re more eloquent than you believe.”

  “Thank you.” It wasn’t just the compliment he offered, but his kind regard for her thoughts and judgment, so unlike her mother’s reminders to remain quiet and agreeable, to mute her own ideas. “My mother believes I should suppress any wayward feminine longings, take a long walk or concentrate on improving my embroidery to diffuse the carnal needs that often plague men but have no place in the embodiment of a refined lady.”

  “I disagree, though no insult is intended to your mother.” His gaze held her entranced. “Allow your inner desires freedom, Caroline. Women are no different from men when it comes to pleasure. They’re only more delicate and graceful in the manner in which they express it.”

  Their discussion paused, and as they stood in each other’s arms all levity evaporated, the air between them fraught with suggestion and tension. Neither of them spoke again, and the silence slowly transformed to intimacy, as if their souls had waited patiently through the conversation and now demanded attention.

  She hoped he would kiss her again, wanted it more than her next breath. Some invisible force bound them together. Some unexplainable yearning from her heart called to his. Was she fooling herself? Lost to a romantic daydream? Or did he feel it too?

  Her body was quick to recall the stroke of his tongue against hers. She’d never been kissed that way before, and it caused too many feelings inside her to sort and label. It was forbidden, and yet breathtakingly intimate, to be joined so closely, tasting each other.

  Her pulse leapt faster with the lingering remembrance, and when he canted his head slightly she allowed her eyes to fall closed, already lost to the memory of his kiss and all too anxious to experience it again.

  Every muscle within her seemed poised. A tight coil of anticipation began in her stomach, lower, in her sex, where she shamelessly grew wet and anxious. She slid into his embrace, their waltz abandoned, their kiss begun.

  The first press of his mouth sent through her a heated jolt of sensitivity so strong she gasped from the shock. He grinned against her lips, that famous half-smile that was alleged to cause women to swoon. The rumor proved true after all.

  He ran his fingers across her
cheek, angled her face to hold her firm, possessing her with the slightest touch. She tensed, too caught up in the heat that flooded her veins, the swirl of sensation and anticipation that urged her to return his passionate entreaty and encourage his attention.

  He wrapped his arm around her back and brought her flush against him while he deepened their kiss, his tongue at play along her lips. She opened to him with no hesitation.

  He tasted like cinnamon and brandy, addictive and forbidden, but oh so alluring one couldn’t help but chase the heady temptation despite knowing it would certainly lead to danger. Each stroke of his tongue, wet hot velvet, sent sensation spiking through her to settle deep in her core. Her breasts tingled, the tips sensitive and aching where they were flattened against his hard chest. She clenched her thighs beneath layers and layers of silk, yet no matter how tightly she tensed, her body disobeyed. She became impatient with yearning. Yet it was only a kiss. One kiss. His kiss.

  As if he sensed her struggle or experienced the same, he broke his hold, whispering kisses and featherlight touches across her cheek and against her ear.

  “Caroline.” He spoke her name, his voice brimmed with wickedness, nothing more than a growl against her ear.

  She committed the sound to memory. With no time to answer and no mind to do so, she swallowed, her throat dry and body throbbing while he continued his exploration. She was lost to the exquisite pleasure he offered.

  He kissed beneath her ear where the skin was tender and sensitive, the hot tip of his tongue quick to lave over each inch afterward. The shadow of whiskers she’d admired on his jaw now rubbed against her neck with intimate sensuality, her breathing stilted as she gripped his shoulders, unsure she could withstand another moment of his wicked assault. Her body pulsed in response to his attention, her every muscle held tight. What was this uncontrollable lust he evoked in her with nothing more than a kiss? Heat streaked through her as he nipped her collarbone, his breath hot against the same path.

  Was she a fool, her body’s reaction the sign of an unexperienced and sheltered lady? Or was this moment unique? Did he experience the same intense bond? He returned to their kiss, a lock of his hair brushed against her cheek as he straightened, and the look she saw in his eyes ignited a riot of desire within her. All intelligence abandoned her.

  * * * *

  More.

  It was a litany in his brain demanding attention, but Lindsey forced himself to ignore it, the lady in his arms too innocent, far too precious. Unfortunately, it was replaced by a word much more lethal.

  Mine.

  Harnessing every ounce of resolve, he broke away, so shaken he swore his hands trembled. He drew a sharp inhale and worked to regain composure. How one of the season’s delicate ingénues could disturb him to this level wasn’t something he could begin to understand at the moment.

  He slowly stepped away, somewhat assured when he recognized she appeared equally as disoriented as he.

  “That shouldn’t have happened.” He cleared his throat, the words raspy at first. “Forgive me.”

  Her brilliant blue eyes searched his face. And then she licked her lips and he all but pulled her back into his arms.

  “You have no need to apologize.” Her brows dipped with the reassurance. “I came willingly into your embrace.”

  The basest part of him reacted to every word from her mouth, every syllable she spoke, anxious to distort and twist into clever innuendo. What would he have done had he not rallied the tiniest shred of conscience? His body still hummed with tension, every muscle strained, his breeches tight. He longed to draw her down to the chaise across the room and discover all the beauty she kept hidden under silk and lace. He hungered to taste her skin in one long caress that began at her mouth and finished at her ankles.

  “God help me.”

  “Lindsey?”

  He jerked his head up and found concern in her eyes. She’d never addressed him so informally.

  “You shouldn’t be here.” He put another stride between them for no other reason than to keep his hands from reaching for her again. “I’m not good for you.” This statement came easier for the truth found in it.

  An unladylike snicker conveyed what she thought of his opinion, though only a moment ago he swore she was as shaken as he. How had she recovered so quickly?

  “I can hardly agree with that, but surely I’m missed, most especially at this late hour.” She moved toward the door and glanced partially over her shoulder only as she bid him good night.

  Chapter Twelve

  Caroline watched the landscape pass in a blur outside the carriage window as she traveled with her mother toward Bedfordshire. Her father had refused to join them. As it was, it proved no simple feat to accomplish the trip to the Henley country party. Caroline’s family hadn’t been invited, and once her mother learned her aunt had declined, the event was dismissed without discussion. After Caroline returned from Lord Seton’s ball with Lindsey’s kiss alive on her lips, she wished to attend for no other reason than to see the earl ride in the hunt, the tales of his masterful skill almost legendary and too, the temptation of another intimate interlude made her heart quiver.

  With few resources at her disposal she’d written a note to her cousin Louisa, who had somehow managed to have an invitation delivered to Caroline’s address. At least that’s what Caroline assumed, considering the formal request arrived only two hours later. Still, her mother saw little sense in displacing the family for a week to journey to Bedfordshire, where they knew few guests. Caroline posed a firm argument that attending the exclusive affair would grant her a rare opportunity to converse with the choicest gentlemen in a more relaxed setting, without the avaricious competition found within a ballroom. Her mother was not convinced.

  Adding to that difficulty, her father was adamant he had no wish to accept the invitation. He stated important matters needed his attention during the week, and therefore they’d all stay put in London. A heated discussion ensued. For the first time since she was a child, Caroline refused to capitulate and challenged her parents’ decision. They were not swayed.

  Worsening the situation, her father seemed especially rigid in his refusal. She had no idea why, as he wouldn’t elaborate, but with no recourse she could hardly argue the point, when traveling to Bedfordshire and attending a country party for a week was asking more than it appeared.

  Of late she’d noticed a recurring strain between her parents. She couldn’t be certain and was never privy to their shared conversations, but she suspected the problem stemmed from financial concerns. Traveling abroad, maintaining an admirable lifestyle, and keeping everyone in silk stockings was an expensive endeavor. Not to mention the necessary bills from the modiste for her ballgowns and fripperies all accompanied by the promise of her generous dowry, were she fortunate enough to make a match this season.

  Caroline never questioned the family income, but with a few overheard words and mild observation she’d begun to suspect her parents worried over their fiscal stability, and that in turn weighed heavily on her heart. Nevertheless, she yearned to see Lindsey again and reminded her parents Bedfordshire was less than a day’s travel and wouldn’t require the inconvenience or expense of a coaching inn.

  The situation took an odd turn when an elaborate bouquet arrived from Lord Mills. His card expressed hope in crossing Caroline’s path at the Henleys’ country party. It was a stroke of luck her parents looked favorably upon the viscount’s interest, and the matter was finally decided. In the end it was Lord Mills who granted her the chance to see Lindsey again, even though she hadn’t encouraged Mills during their shared dance and knew him only as a friend of the earl’s.

  Now, having nearly reached their destination, the carriage slowed to a crawl. Beyond the window, Caroline noted the long line of traffic as it approached the Henleys’ impressive property. Lush rolling lawns led to a wide gravel drive lined with ornamental boxw
ood hedges cut in graduating heights, as if to lure visitors to the front door. An elaborate arched entryway sprawled at the center, where two branches of limestone stairs extended in opposite directions, forcing approaching guests to choose sides.

  Caroline imagined the grandeur to be discovered within the main house, as the exterior exceeded any expectation she’d formed during the ride. A bevy of servants met each equipage as it rolled to a stop, footmen at the ready to collect reins, lead carriages, or direct in the distribution of luggage, while housemaids of every level kept to the marble stairs, anxious to provide service once the need was required.

  Glancing to the opposite bench, she noticed her mother appeared equally entranced, though their progress had slowed to a stop. How she wished her father had accompanied them for no other reason than to ensure her mother’s enjoyment. Would her mother wish to accompany her everywhere throughout the day? A beat of guilt rose up in silent admonishment. Since when did she behave so selfishly? Never. Yet she couldn’t stop thinking about Lindsey and the thrill of watching him command his magnificent horse in the fox hunt.

  “I’ve never seen Father so adamant about refusing a social event.” She hoped her mother didn’t think the worst for her insistence.

  “Nor I.” Her mother glanced across the interior with a slight smile. “But you shouldn’t let it bother you now that we’re here. The estate looks lovely, and how splendid it will be for you to enjoy the festivities, most especially if it allows you the chance to meet interesting gentlemen.”

  A jolt of anticipation shot through her at the thought of seeing Lindsey again.

  “I’m excited.” Her tone gave away everything her words did not.

  “As you should be.” Her mother’s expression showed understanding, though a hint of sadness clouded her eyes. “Just promise me you won’t do anything foolish. You won’t ride—”

  “I’m here to watch the hunt, not participate.” A swift objection escaped before she shook her head to emphasize her mother shouldn’t worry. The carriage grew quiet again, and she envisioned Lindsey atop his magnificent stallion, impeccably dressed in his perfectly tailored coat, as handsome as the devil himself.