Chapter Two
“Are you cold, Miss Lacey? Shall I fetch your shawl?”
She shook her head. “It’s quite warm tonight.”
Derrick wondered, again, why he was here. He had firm rules. Don’t be tempted to marry, seduce virgins, or bed other men’s wives. He’d broken that last one when Lady Darley had found her way into his bed after he’d imbibed too much brandy at a house party. Her enraged husband had called him out for pistols at dawn. Standing there in the Darley’s park, as a cold sun rose over the chestnuts, he’d been sorry for the poor cuckolded fellow and deloped, lowering his gun without firing. He’d offered Darley a shot, knowing the man couldn’t hit a bull at ten paces, but Darley had still been three parts drunk from the previous evening, and had fortified himself with more drink from a flask, before he stumbled and shot himself in the thigh. Impossible to quell the gossip after that. Derrick considered these experiences only made him stronger and able to resist any temptation that might complicate his life.
Yet here he was. And here she was, dressed in a candy-striped gown, which displayed a cleavage that would fill a monk with lust. Miss Lacey was as he remembered her, a perfect English rose. Her beauty outshone the flower she held. She set him in mind of something sweet. Something to be nibbled on. Slowly.
“You look quite delicious in that pink dress, Miss Lacey, against the backdrop of roses.”
Her delicately arched brows rose. “So fulsome a compliment, my lord.”
“I thought it agreeably descriptive.”
“The word delicious was somewhat overblown.”
He raised a brow. “You dislike my choice of adjective?”
She shook her head, sternly, causing glossy fair curls to bob against her satiny cheek. “I believe we were discussing my charity.”
Her letter had intended to bring them together. No question about it. Her stiff defensiveness made him struggle not to grin, and he tamped down the desire to tease her. “I apologize if my compliment offends. I suffer no aspirations to become a bard.”
She lowered her lashes, but not before he caught the appreciative gleam in her big, blue eyes. “I believe that’s wise, my lord.”
This was proving far more diverting than a predictable flirtation. “You object to a man complimenting you?” he continued, determined to draw her out.
“Not if it’s tasteful.”
He bowed. “Then I shall leave you. I will most likely fail again very soon when you inspire me to utter further overblown compliments.”
As he turned, she touched his arm. His threat had the desired effect. Miss Lacey was not done with him yet.
“Please don’t go, my lord. I’m sorry if I appeared rude. I would like to tell you more about Hartnoll House, if I may.”
“More about your charity?” He raised a brow. “I believe I’ve heard enough.”
She inhaled deeply and her bosom swelled above the low neckline of her gown. His fingers itched. “You’ve decided against it then, sir?”
“I might consider it.” What was he about? He was besieged with appeals for money every day, and the best he could wish for from the virginal Miss Lacey was a light flirtation, although even that seemed an outside chance.
“I would be most grateful.” An attractive flush of warmth spread over her cheeks. She was a beguiling young woman, with an admirable cause by the sound of it, which even his hardened heart responded to.
How grateful would she be? A kiss or two, a brief tryst. Kissing those sweet, cherry-pink lips could make the time well spent. “You consider your gratitude to be enough to persuade me, Miss Lacey?”
Her blue eyes grew anxious. “This is not a money-making venture,” she said, sounding breathless. “I want to make that clear. If you will just call to meet the children, I’m sure you will see….”
How charming she was when flustered, doubt deepening her blue eyes to violet. He wasn’t interested in deflowering a virgin. As delightful as making love to her might be, it would prove a threat to his freedom. Still, she was very pretty, and her gratitude might make the trip worthwhile. No reason they couldn’t enjoy each other without taking it too far. His gaze settled on her rosy mouth. For her not to be kissed thoroughly and often would be a crime.
“Then I shall view this Hartnoll House of yours,” he said. “And I find myself free this week. Your personal tour if you will.”
***
He’d taken a step closer. Was it desire that flickered in his eyes? Breathing in, she caught a
hint of his cologne and something elusive. His very maleness. Her cheeks flooded with warmth at the way he looked at her, and she struggled to organize her thoughts. Her plan had been to meet Eaglestone when her parents were away attending a wedding, but that wasn’t for
several weeks. Bella cleared her throat.
“I’m not sure that I can…if you’ll call, my housekeeper will take you through and furnish you with the ledgers. We can discuss it at a later time.”
He had moved so close to her she could feel the heat of his body. She was unsure how to proceed. Heavens, her thighs trembled. She’d intended to keep control of this conversation, but she was no match for this cool, sophisticated man. She was already out of her depth. Had she made a mistake in choosing him? If he did come through with the money, however… She could not afford to let this go. Although she’d never visited the orphanage alone, she would have to arrange it somehow.
Her decision made, Bella strengthened her resolve. “I believe you shall gain much from helping those less fortunate—a wonderful sense of satisfaction, as well as your peers regarding you in a good light.”
He gave a brittle laugh and his eyes narrowed. “My peers? You think I care for that?”
“Everyone wishes to be respected, to be liked, surely?”
“Some care too much for society’s opinion.”
“Perhaps some care too little.”
He frowned at her. Had she gone too far?
“As I said, I am happy to call and view your orphanage, Miss Lacey,” he said, his voice cool. “When you are free to take me on a tour.”
It would be unwise to let the matter go on too long. He would lose interest. She’d set this in motion and couldn’t believe her good luck. She must not lose her courage now and let a small hiccup like her parents stop her. Rubbing the bare skin above her elbow, cool in the short-sleeved dress, she realized by her shiver she was concerned more with the second part of her plan. To lie in this man’s arms.
“You are cold. Let’s return inside.”
She glanced uneasily through the French windows to where the guests milled about in the drawing room. She’d forgotten all about them. Her conversation with such a man would hardly fail to go unnoticed.
“I appreciate you giving me your valuable time, sir. I shall be pleased to show you Hartnoll House.” She took his proffered arm, and they strolled across the terrace. “I did write to your secretary, but his reply gave me little reason to hope you’d be willing to consider my proposal.”
He smiled. “I get many such proposals, Miss Lacey.”
“I imagine so.” She wondered if he’d seen her letter. Was it ridiculous to hope he’d come tonight because of it?
“What made you write to me? My reputation for philanthropy is not widely known.”
He had her there. “Something I saw in you at our last meeting,” she said, aware of how lame that sounded.
He stopped, raising his brows. “You found that quality in me during our one dance at Lady Byrne’s ball?”
“Your good business sense made you an attractive prospect, sir.”
“Ah. Now I understand.” Dense dark lashes hid his expression. “I’m not used to being assessed in such a cool manner, not by a lady in any event, Miss Lacey.”
She didn’t believe that for a moment. Women would attempt to entice him into their beds, and many would want to marry him.
He offered her his arm again, and they continued to the door. “I shall call for you tomorrow morning.”
“Thank you but unnecessary.” She must find a way to forestall her mother, who always accompanied her. “Shall we meet there at, say, half past eleven?”
“Twelve would be better, Miss Lacey.”
She thought quickly. If her mother had a morning engagement, she’d be gone from the house by then. It gave Bella little time, as she would have to be home by two o’clock for luncheon. “I shall see you at twelve, sir.” She reached into the tiny reticule dangling from her wrist and handed him her card with the address of the orphanage printed in silver lettering and, in case he discovered a prior engagement, gathered up her skirts and hurried inside.
As expected, her father drew her aside, none too pleased. “I was about to fetch you! You spent far too long a time on the terrace with that bounder, Bella! Lord Maudling commented on it.”
Bella tried to hide her glee. Perhaps Maudling would consider her a flirt and decide not to offer for her after all.
“Lord Eaglestone has shown some interest in supporting my charity.”
“That ridiculous charity of yours. You know how distasteful I find it when you immerse yourself in matters beneath your station. Your mother’s illness has allowed you to run rampant. Now that she is blessedly restored to good health, things must change.”
“You know my charity is important to me, Father.” She raised her chin. “Grandfather supported me. He bequeathed Hartnoll House to me for this very purpose.”
“I’ve watched your inheritance evaporate. A most appalling waste. Your grandfather must have lost his mind. The property is not worth a penny.”
She hated disappointing him but was equally determined to continue. “I cannot turn my back on those who are less fortunate than I.” She wished she could scoop up every orphan in London.
If she’d hoped to shame him into agreeing with her, she’d failed. He merely lifted an eyebrow. “You’ll find a world of unfortunates out there, my dear girl. We cannot help them all without becoming destitute ourselves.”
“There are many in society who don’t think as you do, Father.”
His eyes shadowed, he rubbed his furrowed forehead. She hadn’t noticed his sideburns had greyed. He’d never looked as vulnerable as he did now, as if he carried the world on his shoulders. The sight tugged at her heart and, for a moment, made her question herself.
He put up a hand to cup her cheek. “You are so pretty, my dear, with your glorious fair curls. I don’t know why you can’t be like other young women and involve yourself in gowns and balls, marrying, raising children. It is what nature intended after all. You must wed while the gloss is on the rose. And, of course, you must marry well.” He gave her a gentle push. “Go and be pleasant to Lord Maudling.”
Anger made her compassion for him evaporate. “Surely it would be better if Lord Maudling came to find me. Men like—”
He held up a hand. “Don’t tell me what men like. I am a man, am I not? Go.”
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