CHAPTER THREE
Kate spotted him the moment she rounded the street to her hotel.
A tall, lean form that appeared disturbingly male in his buff breeches and moss green coat.
Leaning nonchalantly next to the door to the hotel, Luce simply waited for her to complete her stroll.
Not that she was surprised, she wryly acknowledged. Luce had become a tenacious barnacle that she could not easily dislodge.
Last evening, he had followed her into the theater where he had kept an unabashed surveillance upon her until she had at last left in annoyance. He had been in the garden when she sought a breath of fresh air. And even within the hotel when she had left for her tea.
It had been something of a surprise to discover he had not actually followed her to Mrs. Roberts’ and thrust his unwelcome way into her home.
He was a dangerous impediment to her life of independence, she acknowledged as she closed the distance and felt his gaze sear over the sheer muslin gown that made no claim to modesty. Made even more dangerous by his obvious attempt to seduce her will.
Blast it all.
She was perfectly prepared to combat his arrogance and even his bullying tactics. She was not his property and she would not be treated as such.
But she was not so naive as to believe herself impervious to his masculine appeal. Since his arrival in London, she had been forced to admit that in some deep and basic manner she had been attracted to Luce from the moment her father had brought him into their home. Her skin tingled when he was near, her stomach knotted with pleasure when he accidentally brushed against her, and more than one night had been devoted to shameless dreams of her soon-to-be-husband.
Which was no doubt the reason his betrayal had hurt so dreadfully.
If he decided to try a full-on assault, she was not entirely certain she possessed the strength to deny him. That realization only made it all the more imperative that she convince him to leave, she sternly told herself.
Clearly her angry demands, even pleas, were falling on deaf ears. Her only hope appeared to be in remaining thoroughly indifferent to his presence. If she refused to react to his determined pursuit, he would eventually realize his cause was hopeless. And then he would be forced to seek a new means of acquiring his fortune.
With an effort, she forced a cheerful smile to her lips as she halted beside his tall form.
“Good afternoon, Luce.”
“Kate.” His own smile was far less easy to read. “How was the tea?”
“Lovely, thank you.”
“I did not realize you were such a great admirer of Byron’s.”
She offered a faint shrug. “I enjoy a lively debate upon his merits.”
“And you discovered such a debate at Mrs. Roberts’?”
“Actually, I did. Do you know there are gentlemen in London who are actually prepared to listen to a mere woman’s view on literature?” She allowed her pleasure to glow in her eyes. “They are even prepared to accept that women might possess an actual ability to think for themselves. Can you imagine?”
He regarded her through half-lowered lids. “Quite easily. I have always known that you were an intelligent, well-educated woman. It was one of your most potent allures.”
She sternly quenched the tiny thrill of pleasure at his low words. Her allure had been her dowry, nothing more.
“I find that difficult to believe.”
“Why?”
She gave a lift of her shoulder. “We were hardly well enough acquainted for you to know if I possessed any intelligence or not.”
“I assure you that having known any number of silly women, my sisters included, I do not need more than a few moments to distinguish a female of good sense.” His smile deepened. “And besides, no maiden without a good deal of intelligence as well as perseverance could have managed to establish an orphanage that saved dozens of poor children from the brutal coal mines.”
She floundered for a moment. To her knowledge, only Julia was fully aware of the effort she had put into seeing the orphanage built. She had taken great care to ensure that it was the vicar who received the bulk of the credit.
“How did you know?” she whispered.
“I made it my business to know, Kate,” he murmured. “You are my fiancée. Everything about you fascinates me.”
Fascinates? Oh, dash it all.
“I . . .” She determinedly sucked in a deep breath. “What are you doing here?”
His lips twitched. “That should be obvious, my dear. Where else would you have your devoted fiancé be?”
“Do I have a choice?” she demanded in overly sweet tones.
His low chuckle filled the air. “I suppose you would have me sent to the netherworld?”
“A tempting notion, although I would settle for Kent.”
“As would I,” he murmured. “As long as you were at my side.”
“Enough.” She folded her arms about her waist. She wanted to be away from Luce. He was too large. Too dominating. Too blasted handsome. “You have not yet told me what you are doing here.”
He held up a slender hand. “Very well, my dear. I am here quite simply because this is where I am staying for the duration of my stay in London.”
Her eyes widened in disbelief. No. Not even this gentleman was that audacious. Was he?
“You have chambers here? In this hotel?”
“Yes.”
He was that audacious. “Drat it, Luce, you promised . . .”
“I am not interfering,” he firmly cut into her angry words. “Unlike your charming Lord Thorpe, I do not possess a town house in Mayfair, or anywhere else. I must stay in some hotel and this one suits me as well as any other.” He abruptly shrugged, his gaze running a restless path over her upturned face. “And speaking of Lord Thorpe, how was your evening with the aging roué?”
Her eyes widened. “Lord Thorpe is not an aging roué.”
His nose flared at her ready defense of her newfound friend. Almost as if he were jealous of the gentleman. A ridiculous thought, although one she could not entirely dismiss.
“You may not recognize his species, but I assure you, I can do so with ease. I can also assure you that he has only one intention as far as you are concerned.”
Kate shrugged. Although she had thoroughly enjoyed her evening with the handsome lord, it had been impossible to relax enough to invite a more intimate conversation. The knowledge that Luce was watching her every expression had made her stiff and uncomfortable.
Thankfully, her companion had easily sensed her mood and deliberately kept her entertained with lighthearted anecdotes of society.
A sensitive and thoughtful gentleman, she told herself. A gentleman far more worthy of her attention than Lord Calfield.
And yet, she had been unable to forget that cool blue gaze trained upon her with unnerving intensity.
“He is a perfectly polite and proper gentleman,” she informed him with a tilt of her chin. “Unlike some others that I could name.”
“Oh come, Kate, you are not that naive,” he scoffed.
“What is that suppose to mean?”
“A handsome gentleman dangling after a supposedly lonely widow? It should be obvious to the most innocent female that he is the sort to prey upon the unwary.”
Kate sucked in a furious breath at his condescending tone.
A serpent in her garden of paradise, indeed.
“Are you implying that I am somehow unworthy to inspire a gentleman’s genuine regard? That every gentleman I encounter must only desire my body or my fortune?”
He frowned with a building irritation. “I merely meant that you have very little experience with gentlemen of his sort.”
“Something I intend to correct if you would just leave me alone.”
Her blunt words appeared to catch him off guard, and he gaped at her in disbelief before his features abruptly hardened.
“Even knowing what he is?”
“But I do not know what he is,” she retorted in scathing tones. “And I am certainly not going to judge him upon the basis of your fevered imagination.”
He glared at her for a long moment, no doubt struggling with the urge to shake her silly. Very few dared to oppose the Earl of Calfield’s considerable will. Certainly not a mere woman.
“And if I am correct?” he gritted out.
She offered him a taunting smile. “Then he should have enough experience for the both of us.”
With a cool dignity, she swept past him, refusing to give in to the childish desire to topple him from the steps or slam the door upon his arrogant nose.
The man was insufferable, she told herself.
To think he would imply that the only man she could interest would be a lust-filled debaucher who preyed upon the desperate and the lonely.
Her teeth clenched as she marched through the lobby of the hotel.
Very well, perhaps she was not destined to become the Toast of Society. Or to receive dozens of proposals.
But she was not such a fright as all that.
She was intelligent. Well-mannered. And capable of running the finest of households.
Not all gentlemen would consider her an easy means to a fortune or a meaningless night of pleasure.
Why the devil did he not return to Kent where he belonged?
Brooding upon her wounded pride, Kate stepped toward the nearby stairs.
Intent on fleeing to her room where she could gather her composure in peace, she failed to note the dark-haired gentleman leaning against the railing. It was not until he reached out and actually grasped her arm that she came to a startled halt.
“Mrs. Freemont.” Lord Thorpe regarded her flushed features in a quizzical manner. “I hoped I would find you here.”
“Oh.” With a self-conscious smile, Kate pushed back a curl that had strayed from her tidy coiffure. “Good afternoon, my lord.”
The dark gaze shifted over her shoulder to where Luce’s form was still visible beside the window. “I see your acquaintance has decided to remain in London.”
Kate’s hands abruptly clenched at her side. “Unfortunately. I do not know why he does not return to Kent.”
“No? Well, perhaps that is because you are not a man,” Thorpe muttered in wry tones.
“What?”
“Nothing.” Returning his gaze to her wide eyes, the gentleman offered her a smile that could melt stone. “I was hoping you would have dinner with me tonight.”
“Tonight?” Absurdly, Kate found herself hesitating. Although she had no desire to give credence to Luce’s ridiculous words, she knew deep inside she was not entirely certain of Lord Thorpe’s intentions. A light flirtation was one thing. A full-out seduction was quite another. “I am not sure.”
His head cocked to one side. “You do not wish to be with me?”
“We are still all but strangers,” she hedged. “And I do not believe it would be entirely proper.”
“Ah.” He reached out to lightly brush the stray titian curl. “We can have dinner here if you prefer. There is nothing improper in a gentleman and widow sharing a meal in such a public place.”
She studied the meltingly beautiful male features and determinedly squared her shoulders.
No.
She was not going to allow Luce to ruin this as well.
When she had come to London, it had been with the intention of indulging her desires. Every desire. Only a fool would toss aside the opportunity to become better acquainted with this delightful rogue.
“Very well,” she agreed in firm tones.
“Good.” He leaned forward to brush a light kiss over her forehead. “I will meet you at nine.”
Kate watched his tall form disappear from the hotel. A prickle of awareness stabbed into her neck, assuring her that Luce had witnessed the entire scene through the window and that he was furious.
Good.
A smile curved her lips.
She hoped he was furious.
She hoped his head would explode.
* * *
Luce felt as if his head would explode.
Pacing his chambers, he kept one ear cocked for the sound of Kate returning from her dinner.
Damn that bloody Lord Thorpe.
How had he managed to rent a private dining room? Not only were the rooms typically booked weeks in advance, but the exorbitant cost put them well beyond the means of all but the most exclusive guests.
No doubt the scoundrel had used his influence and wealth like any treacherous rake.
Money and influence the poverty-stricken Lord of Calfield did not possess.
In any event, the lout’s maneuver had ensured that he had managed to slip Kate from beneath Luce’s very nose. And for nearly three hours, he had been left to stew in his growing frustration.
What was the damnable maiden thinking? Or not thinking.
She was an intelligent, sensible woman. Or at least she had been until she had seemingly plunged into this fit of madness.
Certainly, she was intelligent enough to realize it was sheer stupidity to place herself at the mercy of a strange man.
Anything could happen.
Anything.
Slamming a fist into his open palm, Luce spun on his heel and paced back across the room.
Fifteen minutes.
Fifteen more minutes and he was going in search of Kate.
Even if he had to tear apart every room in the hotel.
He paced to the window, to the armoire, and back to the door. Five minutes passed. Then another five. Then, just when he was debating which room to begin with, he at last heard the sound of footsteps in the hall. With long strides, he crossed the floor and wrenched open his door. Hurrying down the hall, he turned the corner into the side corridor. He was quick, but not quick enough, as he caught just a glimpse of Kate’s slender form before she stepped into her room and the door swung shut.
For a moment, he halted in indecision. There had been no cry for help. No sound of struggle. She was seemingly well and locked in her chambers. The sensible choice would be to return to his bed and speak with Kate tomorrow.
Unfortunately, Luce was not in the mood to be sensible.
He wanted to assure himself that Kate was indeed unharmed. And perhaps just as importantly, he had to know if she was alone.
Refusing to dwell upon the wisdom of his decision, Luce moved to the door and raised his hand to knock. At the same moment, the sound of breaking glass resounded through the air. His heart nearly halted as he slammed his fist against the smooth wood.
“Kate,” he called roughly. “Kate, open this door.”
A nerve-racking moment passed before the door opened and Kate regarded him with a puzzled frown.
“Luce, what do you want?”
“I heard a crash.” Without ceremony, he stepped past her slight form and into her room. A battalion of French could not have kept him out. “What occurred?”
“Oh.” Allowing the door to close, Kate moved toward a nearby table. With an oddly unsteady motion, she sank to her knees next to the shattered crystal vase that had fallen and spilled numerous blood red roses over the carpet. “I knocked over the lovely flowers that Lord Thorpe sent to me.”
“Roses. Predictable,” Luce muttered, casting a jaundiced glance around the small but tidy chamber. “Where is the lecher?”
Her head abruptly lifted to stab him with an unfocused glare. “Lord Thorpe is not a lecher. He is a perfectly respectable gentleman.”
“A perfectly respectable gentleman who no doubt has made a practice of seducing and abandoning young ladies.”
“If you are going to be unpleasant, my lord, then you may take yourself to your own chambers,” she huffed, clenching her hand about the crystal shards in her hand without thinking. “Ow.”
“Here, let me,” Luce commanded in impatient tones, bending down beside her to take the sharp glass from her fingers.
Clearly caught off guard, Kate hastily attempted to retreat from his proximity. Her awkward motion, however, succeeded in nothing more than sending her sprawling backward on the carpet.
“Humph.”
Dropping the glass, Luce regarded the ungainly form with a gathering frown.
Once again, she had managed to discover a gown that was a breath from indecent. A silver satin creation with a bodice that only made a token effort to cover the slender curves. Less than a token effort at the moment, as the skirts were deliciously tugged up to her knees, revealing slender legs and a disturbing glimpse of lacy stockings.
Desire as sharp as a rapier sliced though him before he rigidly gritted his teeth.
“Kate, are you foxed?” he accused in strained tones.
“Certainly not,” she denied, then as his brows rose in disbelief, she gave a small shrug. “I am pleasantly giddy.”
“You are pleasantly cast to the wind,” Luce retorted, rising to his feet so he could scoop her from the paisley rug and carry her to the adjoining chamber complete with a wide bed. Concentrating his anger toward the letch that had obviously seduced Kate into indulging far too freely, he somehow managed to pretend the feel of her soft feminine form pressed against his body was not stirring to life things better left unstirred. He laid her upon the mattress, then perched on the edge of the bed, careful to keep his gaze upon her flushed face. “What the devil was that idiot thinking to allow you to get in this condition?”
“My condition has nothing to do with Lord Thorpe.”
“Fah. I do not doubt that he did this on purpose. Gentlemen such as your precious Lord Thorpe will do whatever is necessary to take advantage of a woman. Thank God you had enough sense to send him on his way.”
“But I did not.”
Luce stilled at her stunning confession. “What?”
“I did not send him on his way. I asked him to escort me to my door.” Sinking deeper into the pillows, Kate allowed her heavy lashes to lower to her cheeks. “He walked me to the stairs, but he would not come a step further. He said that he could not take advantage of me. I wonder if he was just lying to protect my pride?”
Luce flinched as if he had just been kicked in the stomach by a very large, very angry mule.
“You asked him to escort you to your door?”
“Mmm.”
“Are you in love with him?” he demanded harshly.
She gave a small giggle, clearly unaware of what she was saying or doing.
“Of course not. Although he is very, very charming. And beautiful. And a perfect gentleman.”
Luce studied the relaxed features, wondering where his timid, biddable bride had disappeared to. Despite his undoubted male approval of her transformation, he discovered that he missed the maiden who had stirred his heart with her sweet innocence.
“Kate, tell me why you are in London,” he prompted softly.
“I wish to enjoy myself,” she muttered. “And why should I not? Other ladies do.”
“You are not other ladies. You are an innocent maiden who should be in the care of your father. Or preferably, your husband. This foolishness might very well destroy your future.”
“What future? Married to a gentleman who desires me only for my wealth? Or better yet, the dutiful daughter growing into a bitter old spinster? Quite something to envy, is it not?”
He frowned at her sharp tone. “Is that what you believe?”
“What else could I believe?” she demanded. “For four and twenty years I have been tedious, starchy Miss Frazer. The woman who always followed the rules of others, who never took a risk, who never had an adventure in her entire dull life. Well, no more. I am going to do all the things I have ever wanted to do.”
“And what is it you want to do?”
“I am going to be just like my mother. Well, perhaps not precisely like her,” she amended. “But at least I intend to do more than watch the mold grow in the country.”
“Your mother?” Luce frowned at the absurd words. “What the devil does that mean?”
“You know . . .” She lowered her voice to a husky whisper. “The Jezebel.”
“Jezebel?”
“That is what Father calls her. You see, she ran off with a handsome Frenchman. A terrible scandal, of course, although no one is allowed to discuss it. And I have her blood. Bad blood. Wicked blood that must not be tempted. Oh no. No temptation for Miss Frazer.”
Luce’s heart came to a halt. He had heard the old gossip. But somehow he had not fully realized how such an ancient scandal would have affected Kate. Certainly, he could never have suspected that she would believe that she possessed the weaknesses of her mother.
“That is absurd, my dear. Whatever the sins of your mother, you are innocent.”
“My father does not believe so,” she said sadly.
“Oh, Kate,” he breathed in soft tones.
“But, now he is not here to condemn me.” With an effort, she forced open her eyes. “Now I can live my life precisely as I desire.”
His heart squeezed at her slurred words.
So now he had the reason for Kate’s sudden insanity.
Damn Sir Frazer. And damn himself. Together they had managed to drive Kate to this madness.
“And that is why you wished to leave Kent?”
“Yes.” She gave a slow nod of her head. “I do not want to be boring, tedious Miss Frazer anymore. I do not want to sit in the corner while everyone else is allowed to seek their enjoyment.”
He smiled wryly. “Such as teas and the theater?”
“Mmm . . . and riding through Hyde Park and wearing daring gowns.”
He absently reached out to stroke a finger over her hand. How frustrated she must have been, he thought with a pang. It was no wonder she was going a little insane.
Thank goodness he had followed her. There was no telling how far she might go before her senses returned.
“Of course,” he murmured. “Is there anything else on that list of desires?”
“I want to see the Prince and dance the waltz.”
“Very ambitious.”
She smiled with a fuzzy pleasure. “Oh, and I want to eat escargots and have a glorious flirtation with a handsome gentleman.”
Luce’s indulgent expression was wiped away by the offhand words.
Riding in the park or meeting the Prince was one thing. He could even tolerate the offensive thought of escargots. But to encourage the attentions of some lust-crazed male? Oh no, that was an entirely different matter.
“A flirtation?”
Clearly missing the dangerous edge in his voice, Kate heaved a regretful sigh.
“It certainly seems more appealing than becoming a sour old spinster who has never been kissed.”
His teeth gritted. His hands clenched. And his heart forgot to beat.
“That was why you asked Thorpe to escort you to your room?”
“Of course.” She heaved a sorrowful sigh. “I thought if he had me alone he would kiss me.”
Luce sucked in a sharp breath. The mere thought of Lord Thorpe kissing those lips, perhaps running his hands over that slender body, was enough to make him think of murder. He would see Thorpe, or any other rogue for that matter, in hell first.
“No,” he growled in low tones.
She gave a vague frown. “No, what?”
“He would not have kissed you.”
“Fah. How could you possibly know?”
With a deliberate motion, Luce shifted until he was leaning over her slight form, his hands planted on each side of her head.
“Because I would have killed him first.”
She sank into the pillows, her eyes wide as she belatedly sensed the sudden tension in the air.
“You have nothing to do with this. No interference, remember? If I want to have a flirtation . . .”
“You will do so with me,” he announced in tones that would not be gainsaid.
“What?”
He smiled wryly, not surprised by her stunned expression. He wasn’t sure himself where the words had come from.
He had come to London with every intention of collecting Kate and hauling her back to Kent. He was not about to allow her to avoid for another moment the vows she had promised to make.
Certainly, he had never imagined allowing her to linger in this hotel risking certain scandal as she made him dance to her tune.
Now, he discovered himself hesitating.
Would it be such a horrid thing to spend a few days indulging her wishes? Whatever her protest, in the end they would be wed. Would it not be preferable to have her come to him as an eager bride?
If she desired a bit of adventure, he was more than capable of providing all the excitement she desired.
And in the process, he could ensure that she realized that he was nothing at all like her bully of a father.
“I think you heard me, Kate,” he said in husky tones.
“I cannot have a flirtation with you.”
His gaze dropped to her mouth, unwittingly judging the satin softness. He discovered he very much wanted to kiss her. No, to savor her, he inanely corrected himself, like a fine wine.
“Why not?”
“I . . . you want to marry me.”
He could not prevent his sudden laugh. “Is that such a terrible thing?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“You only want my money.”
“You are wrong, you know,” he murmured softly. “You are a beautiful, enticing woman, my dear. There is no gentleman who would not wish to enjoy a flirtation with you. No gentleman who would not long to possess you.”
“Luce?” she breathed unsteadily.
He smiled deep into her bemused eyes. “If you are concerned that I do not possess the romantic skills of your rake, let me assure you that while my experience may not be as vast as his, my wish to please you is far greater.”
Her breath seemed oddly elusive. “But, you do not desire to kiss me.”
Not desire to kiss her? Heaven have mercy. Now he knew she was mad.
Against his better judgment, his gaze swept over her reclined form. With her hair spilling like satin fire over the crisp white pillows and her eyes darkened with emotion, she appeared as delectable as the most experienced temptress.
“That is perhaps the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard,” he rasped, his heart jolting against his chest. “I have ached to kiss you since the moment I arrived in London.”
“You are merely saying that to confuse me.”
Luce growled deep in his throat, slowly lowering his head toward the temptation of her lips.
Obviously, she needed proof of his sincerity.
Well, never let it be said that he failed to satisfy a lady.
Especially a lady he fully intended to have as his own.
“Shall I show you just how wrong you are, my sweet Kate?”