Treacherous Temptations(20)

“N-no, my lord…It’s just…It’s…you are so different from this morning.”

“Ah,” he nodded and answered with an ironic turn of his lips, “I perceive it is my ridiculous dress that has put you off.”

Mary was at a loss how to reply without insult.

He chuckled. “My apologies for the excess in my attire, but necessity dictates I continue to adopt the persona of the most noble Conte di Caserta on my public outings. I am so accustomed to it, that it never occurred to me you would be embarrassed to be accompanied by such a fop.”

“Oh no, my lord!” Mary protested. “It is quite the opposite!” She cast a look of dismay at her own simple chintz gown. “I could only shame you.”

“Preposterous, my dear.” He strode up three steps and offered his arm, adding in a soft voice. “I find you altogether delightful.”

The warmth in his eyes made her palms sweat inside her new kid gloves. It was sheer madness how she reacted to his smallest attention. She found no will to resist him when he placed her hand on his sleeve and escorted her down the rest of the stairs.

At the mere inclination of his head the footman flung open the door and scurried to lower the steps on the waiting coach, an elegant, black lacquered affair with open top and blue velvet interior. Lord Hadley assisted Mary up, waiting patiently while she arranged her skirts. Her stomach fluttered with nervous apprehension when she realized he intended to sit beside her rather than in the seat opposite.

“May I?” he asked, pointing to the plush forward-facing bench. “It will be much easier for me to point out the sites if we are facing in the same direction.”

“But of course,” she murmured and slid to the far side of the seat. As Jenny joined the coachman on the driver’s perch, he dipped his head, remarking in a low tone, “Might I repeat how utterly charming you look?”

“You are very kind,” she replied, down casting her eyes as a flash of heat invaded her cheeks. “But even if I were dressed in the finest of gowns, I could never be a lady of fashion.”

“Never let that disturb you, my pet.” He fingered a mass of curls that had settled over her shoulder just above the expanse of her modestly covered bosom. “I find fashion and beauty are rarely synonymous.” When he caressed a stray lock between thumb and forefinger and raised it to his lips, Mary felt the dizzying sensation from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes.

…

From the bird’s-eye vantage point of her sitting room window, Barbara observed Hadley and Mary, grimacing as he handed her into the carriage. Although Hadley’s seduction of Mary was necessary to her plan, the way he had touched her, and the vision of them together made Barbara want to gnash her teeth. She clenched the sill when he lingered in releasing Mary’s hand, and then her knuckles blanched white when he sat beside her.

Barbara was about to turn away until he reached out to brush the hair from Mary’s shoulder. She hesitated, her palms pressed to the glass. When Hadley brought it to his lips, her nails scraped viciously down the pane with a long and jarring screech.

…

There wasn’t a second that passed while riding beside Lord Hadley that Mary wasn’t acutely aware of him—the occasional press of his thigh whenever the coach jostled, the distinctive masculine scent that wafted over her whenever he leaned in to indicate a point of interest. Although she made her best effort to ignore it, the constant and relentless assault to her senses made her edgy and breathless, and muddled her mind.

By the time they arrived, Mary could recall almost nothing of their conversation in the interval that passed between Hanover Square and Kensington Gardens, and even less of the various sights he had pointed out along the way. While he was ever solicitous, witty, and attentive, Mary feared she must have bored him to tears with her mundane and monosyllabic responses.

When the carriage came to a halt, she was almost desperate to get some much needed distance between them. She rose when he alighted, expecting him to hand her down in the same manner as he had handed her up. Instead, he placed his hands about her waist. She inhaled to protest, but the air whooshed from her lungs when he lowered her to the ground far more slowly than necessary and much closer than appropriate. When her feet landed on the earth, she could hardly breathe at all.

…

Hadley released her with a smile and a curt bow, watching in amusement as she made a great production of straightening her bonnet and smoothing her skirts. He had managed to fluster her to a delectable shade of pink and all he’d done was lift her from the carriage, albeit in an intimate manner.

Humoring her…for the moment, he turned to answer the coachman’s query. “Let us say two hours. That should provide us sufficient time to view the gardens, enjoy a brief repast, and still return in time for tea.” And ample time to begin his seduction.

To be honest with himself, he found Mary’s uncorrupted virtue somewhat disconcerting, for in all his vast experience of women, and there had likely been hundreds of them, Hadley had yet to despoil a virgin. And Mary was more than just a virgin, for he knew to a certainty that her ripe mouth had never even been tasted, for if it had, she would have offered it to him in the garden at Blanchard House with a softly parted sigh.

Had he any lingering doubt, it had evaporated with the widening of her mossy-colored eyes and the slight tremor that shook her body when he had only plied his lips to her hair. It was the most innocent of caresses, yet she had responded with an intensity he was certain even she didn’t understand. She desired him already, even though she couldn’t recognize yet what sexual desire was.