Miss Hillary Schools a Scoundrel Page 8

  Phoebe placed a delicate hand on the girl’s arm. “Gabby, I’m afraid Richard is unable to act as chaperone today. He has joined the hunt this morning. I would happily volunteer if not for…” She glanced down at her pregnant belly and blushed.

  Gabby patted her hand. “I understand, Phoebe. But you needn’t worry. Drew volunteered to fulfill the role.”

  “Drew? Oh, Gabby, I think that is a bad idea.”

  “Did I hear my name?”

  Lana swung toward the sound of Lord Andrew’s voice and her heart stopped. Heavens above! He moved toward them with grace and determination. His buckskin pants hugged his hips and thighs with precise accuracy, revealing how sleek and muscular he was.

  His wild toffee-colored locks were reminiscent of the majestic lion’s head mounted on Lord Eldridge’s wall at his country estate. When Lana had stared into the lion’s hungry eyes some years ago, fascination and terror had surged through her blood. A different hunger lurked in Lord Andrew’s eyes, but the effect on her senses was the same.

  He flashed his dimpled smile. “Phoebe and Miss Hillary, how lovely to see you.”

  Phoebe’s brow wrinkled. “Gabrielle informs me you’re to act as her chaperone for the riding excursion.”

  “That’s correct, Pheebs. And Mother informed me of my duties as well as the consequences should I fail to fulfill them, so there is no cause for alarm.” Lord Andrew offered his arm to his sister. “Shall we make our way to the mews before the best horses are claimed?”

  As Lana made to follow, Phoebe detained her with a soft touch to the arm. She nibbled her bottom lip, as she was prone to do when worried. “Lana, be cautious with Drew. He means well, but…”

  “Please don’t fret for me, dear Phoebe. I’m aware of what Lord Andrew is.” And what he would never be. He would never be one to fall in love. He’d never settle for one woman. Lord Andrew would never endanger her heart, because he would never try to win it. “I’ll be fine, really.”

  Phoebe’s expression didn’t ease with Lana’s reassurance, but she held her tongue.

  At the stables, Lana’s gaze strayed to Lord Andrew while he assisted Lady Gabrielle with mounting a pure white horse. He glanced up too quickly, caught Lana in the act of ogling him, and grinned. She spun around and pretended to study the horseflesh before he noticed her flaming cheeks. Without any thought, she selected a gray gelding closest to her and waited for the groom to give her a hand up.

  A moment later prickling sensations at the back of her neck prompted her to look up. Lord Bollrud’s ice-blue eyes followed each movement she made, triggering a rush of bashfulness. Lana’s gaze dropped to the dirt beneath her boots.

  There was no doubt her mother approved of the gentleman and wished her to make a match with him, but Lana didn’t know what to think after their dance last night. He had been polite enough and seemed to have honorable intentions, but his lack of experience navigating the ton had been awkwardly apparent.

  The gentleman offered a slight smile before dismounting his horse. Her stomach flipped when he secured the reins of his chosen mount and made to approach.

  A light touch at her elbow caused her to jump. “Miss Hillary, you need a more spirited ride,” Lord Andrew murmured into her ear. His soothing voice and warm breath on her neck created pleasurable shivers.

  “I-I do?” He did refer to a horse, didn’t he?

  “Indeed. Leave the docile gray mare for one of the more seasoned ladies. There’s a lovely chestnut this way that will suit you nicely.”

  Lord Andrew offered his arm and directed her away from Lord Bollrud. She glanced over her shoulder in time to witness the other gentleman grimace. Concerned that he might see her action as a cut direct, she offered an apologetic smile, but all thoughts of Lord Bollrud vanished the moment she saw the chestnut.

  “Oh, Lord Andrew. How beautiful,” she said on an exhale.

  He smiled broadly, showing his dimples again. “I thought you would like her. She’s an Andalusian. The breed is docile, but you’ll notice a difference in her gait, more energetic than other horses. Andalusians tend to be intelligent and respond to the lightest of hand.”

  “I see.” Lana cared little for the specifics of the breed, but she enjoyed how animated Lord Andrew became when speaking of the horse. She ran her hand over the mare’s gleaming reddish-brown coat. “Are you an expert on horseflesh?”

  He grinned wickedly. “Among other things.”

  Such as pleasures of the flesh? Heat engulfed her body and she fidgeted with her gloves.

  “Allow me the honor of assisting you, Miss Hillary.”

  Lord Andrew linked his fingers to form a step in which she placed her boot. With her hand resting on his shoulder for balance, he lifted her as if she weighed nothing. A whiff of sandalwood teased her senses. The easy movement of unyielding muscles under her fingertips sent her heart racing again. She had never been as aware of any man as she was of Lord Andrew, nor as flustered by his presence.

  “Th-Thank you, my lord.” She fussed with her skirts to allow herself time to recover from their contact.

  “My pleasure, Miss Hillary.” He held her gaze several seconds longer than necessary before a tantalizing grin spread across his lips. He spun around to return to the black stallion he’d chosen for himself.

  Lana gripped the reins to hide the tremor in her hands and exhaled, wishing the butterflies in her belly would cease their agitated flutters.

  Only eleven guests had chosen to participate in the ride around the lake, mostly young women and their chaperones, while the more adventurous guests participated in the hunt. As the group prepared to leave, raucous laughter floated on the air, and six young men rounded the side of the stables.

  “Prepare six more mounts,” Lord Brookhaven called as the men wandered into the stable yard. “We wish to join the riding party.”

  “Forest, we heard you had attached yourself to this group,” Mr. Collier said with a twinge of amusement in his voice. “Thought you must know what you’re about.”

  The head groom glanced toward Lord Andrew in askance. A flash of irritation crossed Lord Andrew’s countenance, but he gave a sharp nod indicating the groom should provide the men with mounts. The servant issued brusque orders to the other grooms, who scrambled to outfit the additional horses.

  Lord Andrew jerked his mount’s head around and tapped his sides. “Let’s go. They may find their own way to the lake.”

  Lady Gabrielle followed behind her brother. “Are those men your friends?”

  “Acquaintances,” he answered sharply and urged his horse into a faster walk. “No one to earn your notice.”

  Once out on the trail, Lady Gabrielle and Lana rode side by side while Lord Andrew lagged behind. The young woman fired question after question at Lana about the London season. How nice it was to be in a position to provide guidance to Lady Gabrielle, especially with Phoebe unable to accompany her. She enjoyed the younger woman’s discourse until the mob of latecomers to the riding party galloped their horses past, upsetting Lana’s mare.

  Her horse danced sideways and issued a soft whinny while she clung to the reins.

  Lord Andrew urged his horse alongside hers and grasped the bridle. “There, there, girl.” His rich voice soothed the skittish mare but sent Lana’s pulse racing again.

  Lord Bollrud rode up on Lana’s other side. “Are you all right, Miss Hillary?”

  “I’m a bit out of sorts,” she admitted, “but suffer no harm.” Not yet, at least, although her body’s response to Lord Andrew warned of the precarious nature of their continued association.

  Lady Gabrielle had stopped her mare in the middle of the path and studied her with a troubled frown.

  “Please, let’s continue our ride,” Lana said, not wishing to hamper the younger woman’s enthusiasm.

  Two of the gentlemen who had galloped past a moment earlier doubled back and approached Lady Gabrielle. She smiled sweetly and called out a greeting. The men took this as encouragement to f
lank her mount and make introductions.

  “Hell’s teeth,” Lord Andrew grumbled.

  Lana and her two gentlemen followed behind Lady Gabrielle and her apparent admirers.

  For a time, Lord Andrew stared holes into the backs of his sister’s companions, his posture rigid, but as the gentlemen conducted themselves with utmost propriety, he seemed to relax his guard slightly.

  Lord Bollrud cleared his throat. “Is not the countryside beautiful, Miss Hillary?”

  “Very beautiful, my lord.”

  “And the weather is perfect for a ride, wouldn’t you agree? The sun shines its radiance upon us this fine day.”

  Lana kept her eyes trained ahead, attempting to hide her amusement. “Indeed. It is a fine day.”

  Lord Andrew chuckled under his breath. “Surely, you are not suggesting the radiance of the sun is any more beautiful than one smile from the charming Miss Hillary.”

  When Lana looked in Lord Bollrud’s direction, he winced, as if he experienced a sharp pain in his gullet. “Well, no. Of course not, Miss Hillary. I wasn’t implying… Not even the sun can compare to your… your radiant beauty. I’ve never seen anyone more radiant. Not the sun… even.”

  The poor man. He didn’t realize Lord Andrew teased him.

  “Thank you, my lord.” Lana made certain their companion couldn’t see her cross her eyes at Lord Andrew.

  “And her eyes,” Lord Andrew gushed. “They shine brighter than the stars in a midnight sky. Wouldn’t you agree, Bollrud?”

  “Oh, well. Yes, yes, they do.” Lord Bollrud sounded confused by the direction of the conversation but eager to please. “Miss Hillary’s eyes are quite—um, shiny. I suppose.”

  Lord Andrew was being quite incorrigible, mocking the gentleman as he was. Lana playfully stuck out her tongue in his direction.

  “And those lips,” Lord Andrew raved. “Ah, lips like—”

  Lady Gabrielle glanced over her shoulder and grinned, apparently eavesdropping on their conversation. “Cease your nauseating rhapsody, you besotted ninny. We’re having lunch soon and you are spoiling my appetite.”

  A giggle escaped Lana. The two siblings’ playful exchanges reminded her of the relationship she shared with Jake. A twang of remorse sobered her mood. Jake had warned her to avoid Lord Andrew, but she hadn’t listened. Perhaps he knew her better than she knew herself. One day in Lord Andrew’s presence and she was dangerously close to developing a fondness for the scoundrel.

  Eleven

  At the end of the ride, Lord Andrew and Lady Gabrielle took up position on each side of Lana and accompanied her to the picnic set up on the grounds. The younger girl wandered off a moment to retrieve a beverage, leaving Lana and Lord Andrew in the queue for the buffet.

  As they gathered food on their plates, Lana leaned toward him and lowered her voice. “Do go on about my lips, my lord.”

  “Why stop with the lips when I can wax poetic over every inch of your body?”

  Lana drew in a sharp breath. She had only meant to tease him for playing the foppish suitor in Lord Bollrud’s presence.

  He gave her a covert wink. “What’s the matter, my little muse? Did I finally leave you speechless?”

  She made a face, trying to hide her pleasure over engaging in such inappropriate banter with such a handsome scoundrel. In spite of her resolve to marry a respectable gentleman, a roguish one still possessed the power to turn her head, especially one as charming as Lord Andrew was.

  “I’m sure you are accustomed to leaving women breathless,” she replied as smoothly as possible. Lana might be an innocent in the strictest sense, but two years in society didn’t leave her naïve. Nevertheless, flirting in such a manner was a bold action for her, and thrilling.

  Lord Andrew led her to a spot under a shade tree and held her plate while she lowered to the grass. As his sister approached, he called out, “You have no grapes on your plate, Gabby. You must go back for some. Oh, and try some of the melon.”

  Lady Gabrielle scowled but slowly turned and plodded back toward the buffet table.

  “Miss Hillary, were you trying to seduce me in the queue?”

  Lana’s eyes rounded. “No. I wasn’t trying—no.”

  He chuckled and handed her the plate. “I see.”

  They sat in silence while Lord Andrew satisfied a healthy appetite and Lana picked at her food.

  Oh, for heaven’s sake. Must her curiosity always be satisfied? “Why do you ask, my lord? Was I succeeding at seducing you?”

  He cocked one eyebrow. “You’re an amateur, but close to irresistible.”

  Lana pressed her lips together and narrowed her eyes. An amateur? An amateur!

  “Don’t be angry, Miss Hillary. You asked. I thought you sought my advice.”

  “Advice?” She almost screeched the word. Searching to see if anyone overheard and finding everyone else engaged in his or her own tête-à-têtes, she lowered her voice. “I do not require your assistance, sir. I’m more than capable of… of… handling gentlemen.”

  It was a bold lie, but her pride demanded as much.

  He shrugged. “If you insist.” Leaning back and bracing himself with one hand, he bit into a pear he held in his other. “Maybe you require more practice. I don’t mind lending my assistance.”

  “I do not need more practice,” she whispered angrily.

  He held up his hand in surrender. “All right, all right. And everyone believes I’m up to no good. Allow me to pose this question, Miss Hillary. Has anyone pulled you aside and demanded you to stay a hundred feet from me?”

  Jake hadn’t exactly specified a particular distance. She shook her head.

  “Apparently they should, because it’s obvious you seek to handle me.” His lopsided grin injured her pride. Why must he mock her? “And though I’m certain you possess two of the best hands in England, regretfully, I must resist your advances.”

  Her head lowered, her cheeks burning with mortification. Not only did the proper gentlemen of the ton find her lacking, the wickedest libertine in London didn’t want her, even when she wantonly threw herself in his path. Lana may be no beauty, but Lord Andrew could at least have the good manners to pretend he found her desirable.

  She studied her plate and fought back tears of humiliation. “You needn’t mock me.”

  “What is this? Have I truly upset you?” The toe of his boot brushed her ankle. “Look at me, peach.”

  How could she resist his request when his rich voice flowed over her like a lover’s caress? Lana reluctantly lifted her gaze to meet his smoky blue eyes.

  “You could tumble me in a heartbeat if there were not extenuating circumstances.”

  Lana’s heart leapt and then sped to an unnatural pace. “Wh-what circumstances?”

  “I gave my word to Rich that I wouldn’t touch you.”

  She frowned, displeased by Lord Richard’s interference. Lana was a grown woman and didn’t require her host’s protection.

  “Why would you make such a promise, my lord?”

  Lord Andrew grinned. “I can only claim a moment of insanity, my sweet.”

  ***

  After a full day of dangling after Miss Hillary, Drew needed a distraction. His plan to rid himself of his craving for her had failed. Evidence of her mutual desire hadn’t released him as he had expected. If anything, it stoked the flames of his lust, but a night of cards and a romp with a beautiful woman should cure him. It had to or else he would go insane.

  Drew placed a marker on the spaded Knave, his lucky card, and the Queen of Hearts, Lady Love. Lady Love. He scoffed. Gambling should take his mind off the enticing Miss Hillary, not play into his fanciful imagination. Yet, her image, her smell, and her voice had become his obsession, following him even into his domain. And devil take it, he ached. Badly. He’d not had cause to experience the painful sensation since being ushered into manhood.

  Drew’s gaze swept the small room of the east wing parlor crowded with the more adventurous guests. His parents
pretended ignorance as long as the guests confined their activities to this area of the castle. Alluring women, less virtuous than the debutantes in the ballroom, dotted the vast room. Most were widows, but some married women traveling without their husbands had straggled in as well.

  Drew never passed judgment on anyone. It was no secret many ladies of the ton entered into loveless matches for the sake of prosperity. He’d not begrudge them a passionate tumble now and again. He himself preferred less complicated liaisons, but perhaps he could make an exception. He was quite desperate to banish Miss Hillary from his thoughts.

  A beautiful brunette hovered on the fringes of the crowd, her full figure capturing Drew’s notice. An unmistakable invitation lingered in her stare, and he allowed a seductive smile to spread across his lips. The lady would do nicely to soothe the dull throb in his trousers. She inclined her head and returned his smile. After this round, he would go to her and be done with the matter. His grin widened as he rose from his seat, prepared to make his departure.

  “Queen of hearts,” Norwick called out. “Forest, you lucky bugger, looks like Lady Love is with you tonight.”

  Drew gaped at the board. The Queen of Hearts won?

  He pictured Miss Hillary, her cheeks pink from riding this morning, her eyes shining with amusement then later with desire.

  Devil take it!

  His agreeable partner for the evening wouldn’t do at all. Only one woman could ease his torment, and Lana Hillary remained off limits. Pummeling his interfering brother probably wouldn’t help matters, but why dismiss any alternatives?

  Drew scooped up his winnings and pushed from the table with a screeching of chair legs against the stone flooring.

  “Forest, you can’t leave,” Norwick protested.

  “Of course he can,” Radcliff argued. Several other gents chimed in with their opinions.

  “Let him go.”

  “He must allow us a chance to win back our blunt.”

  Drew tossed the pot on the table. “Split my winnings.”

  A scuffle followed as the down-and-out gamblers jostled for their take.