Chapter Ten
Giles’s arm muscles tightened as he rowed the small boat back to shore, anxious to be rid of Miss St. George and her constant giggles, and locate Suzanna. From the boat, he’d seen her speaking with Cam, and then Cam headed toward the lake with Lady Barrington. Within moments, Suzanna had turned and walked away from the picnic area, past Lady Hancock and Lady Livingston. He’d not seen her since and was growing concerned.
“I would love a lemonade, my lord.” Miss St. George grabbed his hand as he helped her from the boat.
“I am not a lord. But I will be delighted to bring you a lemonade.”
She giggled. He sighed.
He, on the other hand, would be delighted to find Suzanna, since he still did not see her upon his quick glance around the area. He hurried to the refreshment table, accepted a glass of lemonade from the servant, and returned to where Miss St. George had taken a seat. He held the glass out to her.
She patted the chair alongside her. “Won’t you join me for a minute?” The chit regarded him over the rim of her glass, the look she cast him causing his stomach to cramp. She had him in her sights now, and that was not good.
Not wanting to insult her but growing more anxious by the minute, he bowed. “I would love to, but unfortunately, I see Lord Danvers summoning me.”
Lord Danvers was fast asleep under a large maple tree, but hopefully, with the position in which Miss St. George sat, she would be unable to see the man snoozing away.
“Oh, of course.” She held out her hand. “Thank you so much for the lovely rowboat ride, my lord.”
“I am not a lord,” he mumbled as he bent over her hand and turned on his heel, searching for Suzanna.
He questioned the few people who were still on shore, even woke up Danvers. He questioned the staff, thinking perhaps she’d had a reason to return to the house, but no one had seen her leave. Giles stood, his feet spread, hands on his hips, and surveyed the area. The only place she could have gone was into the wooded area to his left.
With no other ideas, he strode to the opening in the trees. The air was much cooler in the woods, the damp and dimness of the space casting a sinister feel over the entire area. Or perhaps that was his overactive imagination in his worry about Suzanna.
He looked left and right, moving slow enough to check the area completely, ignoring the urge to race over the pathway, calling her name. Certainly, his voice would carry, and the last thing he wanted was for everyone to know she’d wandered off by herself. A scandal would no doubt follow.
Foolish woman, to leave the safety of the group. He wasn’t even certain she was here, but with no one having any idea where she’d gone, the forest was the best place to search. Perhaps she’d decided on a walk and became lost. Or caught her foot in a small animal hole, and she had stumbled and hurt herself.
Unable to hold down the panic, he called her name, keeping his voice lowered. He stood and listened. No response. He continued over the pathway. Every few yards he stopped and called again.
Finally, he heard a slight voice. “Giles?”
Relief flooded him, along with confusion when he jogged to where he’d heard her. “Suzanna?”
“Up here.”
What the devil? He looked up at the trees in the area, turning in a full circle until his eyes settled on Suzanna huddled in a tree. Her bottom was resting on the branch, her legs dangled. She looked like a child, and anything but safe. “What the bloody hell are you doing up there?”
“Language, Mr. Templeton.”
He cupped his hand over his forehead to block the sun from his eyes. “Well?”
“I was taking a lovely stroll in the woods when a very ferocious-looking dog attempted to make me his dinner.”
“And you climbed the tree?” His voice rose in amazement.
“My apologies, sir, but it appears I left my double-barreled flintlock pistol in my reticule, so I was unable to shoot the dog.”
Giles shook his head. “Sarcasm is not going to get you out of that tree.” He considered her for a minute. “I don’t suppose you could climb down?”
“I would not be sitting up here if I could.”
“You climbed up, didn’t you?”
“With razor sharp teeth at my heels. A woman is able to do any number of things she would not ordinarily consider when her life is flashing before her eyes.”
“Yes. That is true, I’m sure.” He walked in circles, glancing up at her every once in a while. “I don’t believe the tree is strong enough to hold both of us. You will have to push yourself to the edge of the branch and drop into my arms.”
“What?” Her eyes grew to the size of dinner plates. “My skirts are already torn from the climb. If I drop down, they will billow out.”
“So?”
“Mr. Templeton—”
“I will ignore that, since you are in distress.”
“—if I do that, you will see…”
He grinned, loving the blush on her face. “Yes. Perhaps I will. But the only other alternative is to leave you up there.” He looked into the distance, tapping his chin. “I suppose I could toss up a blanket to cover you for sleeping. But I imagine you would miss your social life.”
“This is not funny!”
“Suzanna, you have two choices. Either you drop into my arms or you stay up there until you are silver-haired and wasted away to nothing. Although I suppose I could fashion a pulley of sorts to get food to you on a regular basis.”
She swung her legs and chewed her lips. “You could close your eyes.”
He peered up at her, his hands on his hips. “Lovely idea. Except you might land feet from where I stand and break several bones in the process.”
Suzanna closed her eyes and murmured something under her breath. “Very well. I will jump down. But”—she pointed her finger at him—“you will do your best not to look.”
Fighting to hide his smile at her ridiculous request, he said, “Of course. I am nothing if not a gentleman.”
Taking a deep breath, she grasped the sides of her gown, then wiggled until she was farther off the branch. Closing her eyes—perhaps believing if her eyes were closed, it would somehow affect his vision—she slid off the branch.
…
Suzanna let go of her gown and waved her arms, frantically grasping at air. She landed with a thump into Giles’ arms and just as she feared, her skirts opened and her bare bottom rested in his large hands.
“Put. Me. Down.”
If the heat in her face was any indication, she most likely looked as though she would explode.
Mr. Templeton grinned at her. “In a minute. But first a kiss for your rescue.”
She opened her mouth to demand that he put her down, and he took the opportunity to cover her lips with his. She shifted to get him to release her, but it only encouraged him to squeeze her bottom—her bare bottom! The humiliation was overwhelming, but she loathed to move again, since who knew what he would do next.
Soon, his kiss turned into something so passionate and needy that she forgot about the naughtiness of where his hand rested and slumped in his arms. In fact, his hand being where it was brought lovely sensations to her nipples and between her legs. Without conscious thought, her hands slid up his chest to encircle his neck, where her fingers played with the strands of hair curling over the top of his cravat.
He pulled away from her mouth and scattered light kisses over her face, her jaw, the soft skin under her ear. He proceeded lower, until his teeth were tugging on the edge of her neckline. She really should stop him. His hand continued to massage her buttocks, and her embarrassment had long since vanished, replaced with the wanton desire to part her thighs so his fingers could ease the ache there.
This time she cupped his face and brought his mouth to hers. She nipped and tugged at his lips with her teeth. He groaned and pulled her closer to his body, still holding her in his arms. He shifted her once again and slid his thumb between her thighs, circling the soft, moist skin.
“Templeton, did you find her?” Lord Hawkins’s voice intruded into her muddled brain. With a curse, Giles immediately pulled away and set her on her feet. Her skirts swirled around her ankles. With a loud buzzing in her ears, she tried her best to come to grips with her surroundings. She swayed at his abrupt movement.
He gripped her elbow. “Adjust your gown.”
Suzanna looked at her neckline that had been tugged much lower than it was meant to be. She yanked it up and looked with dismay at where her gown had been torn from climbing the tree. She must look an absolute mess, and what in heaven’s name would Lord Hawkins think of her appearance?
Slowly her mind cleared, and she was once again aware of the sun shining through the trees, the smell of decaying wood, the sound of animals scurrying around.
“Over here, Hawk.” Mr. Templeton adjusted his breeches and wrapped his arm around her waist in a protective move.
“What happened? Lord Danvers practically grabbed me by the throat to tell me you had been questioning everyone about Miss Blake’s disappearance.” Hawkins moved closer, his eyes growing wide at her dishevelment.
He threw an outraged glance at his friend before turning his attention back to her. “Are you well, Miss Blake?” His tight voice softened. “Must I beat Mr. Templeton to the ground on your behalf?”
Suzanna shook her head. “Oh, no, my lord. You are mistaken. I was chased by a frightening-looking dog and climbed up this tree.” She pointed behind her. “Fortunately, Mr. Templeton came in search of me and helped me down.”
Hawkins breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness he found you.” He grinned at Mr. Templeton. “And thank goodness I don’t have to rumple my clothing by engaging in fisticuffs with one of my closest friends.”
“Hawk, you can see the condition she is in. I don’t think it’s a good idea to have Miss Blake arrive back at the picnic looking this way.”
“I agree. Who knows what sort of stories would be attributed to her appearance? Perhaps you can stay here with her, and I will fetch one of the older matrons to accompany her back to the house. That way she can see for herself that she was not ravished. Based on the scrapes I can see on her arms, she has been climbing a tree. It would quell any unseemly rumors.”
“Good idea.”
“I will have one of the carriages brought to the other side of the woods.” He pointed to the east. “Take that path until it ends. The carriage, along with either Lady Hancock or Lady Livingston, will meet you there.” He pointed at Giles. “You will explain yourself and then return to the picnic grounds for the rest of the afternoon.”
Giles scowled. “You needn’t remind me of the precarious position Miss Blake is in. I have no intention of allowing her to be dishonored in any way.”
Suzanna stamped her foot and glared at them. “I would prefer if the two of you didn’t discuss me as if I weren’t here. I know what I did was foolish and could have caused me serious harm. I am also aware that I am merely a few steps from scandal.”
Both men viewed her with raised brows. “Your point being?” Mr. Templeton said.
“Oh, nothing. I feel absolutely foolish and am probably trying to deflect my embarrassment.”
Hawkins smiled. “All will be well. With either Lady Hancock or Lady Livingston on our side, there is nothing to fear.” He pointed to the narrow path leading to the east side of the woods. “On your way, now. Go.”
Mr. Templeton moved his arm from around her waist. “I will go first, in case there are small animal holes or that dangerous dog returns.”
Suzanna nodded and followed him along the path. Now that the entire episode was finished, she found herself sore from where she’d climbed the tree and exhausted from the strain of the past hour. She also replayed in her mind his hand on her naked bottom and how interesting and exciting it had felt. Whatever was wrong with her? She should feel only mortification.
Instead, she walked along the path, continuing to think about warm lips and strong hands and what might have happened had Hawkins not come upon them. She shuddered with delight, then chastised herself. What sort of a wanton has this man turned me into?
…
It was the last day of the house party and the night of the ball. Besides the house party guests, neighboring gentry far and wide had been invited. Lady Hawkins and Lady Honora were expecting about fifty additional people. Dinner would be served earlier than usual, at eight o’clock, and then the house party guests would join the others in the ballroom.
Giles entered the drawing room, his eyes immediately spanning the room for Suzanna. She had not yet arrived, so he wandered over to the sideboard and accepted a glass of brandy from Hawk. “I will be returning to London early in the morning. When will you be leaving?”
“The same.” Hawk took the last gulp of his drink and set the glass down. “There are several business items I need to deal with.”
Cam walked up as Hawk finished his statement, a grin on his face. “Ah, business matters? That ‘business’ would not happen to be the beautiful Mrs. Ambrose, your favorite opera dancer now, would it?” He took the glass of brandy Hawk held out to him.
Hawk winked, but somehow the effort seemed forced. In fact, Giles realized Hawk had not been himself for a while now. He took part in all the activities they normally did, but his heart hadn’t been in it.
“That is part of my business, to be certain. I’m this close”—he held up his thumb and index finger about a half inch apart—“to having her agree to come under my protection. Away from her this week might have her casting glances at another.”
“Ah, the perfidiousness of opera dancers. You should find yourself an amiable widow, looking to have a man warm her bed without the leg shackles. The best of both worlds. No tantrums and scenes when one parts ways with the chit,” Cam advised.
“Speaking from experience, Cam?” Giles laughed. “If I remember correctly, there was quite a spectacle with that Italian opera singer. What was her name? The commotion kept the gossip columnists happy for days.”
“Yes. Madam Moretti. Lovely girl. Shrieked like a banshee when I gave her congé.” He shook his head. “That’s why I pursue only widows now.”
“No married ladies?” Hawk asked.
“Not anymore. I’ve climbed out of enough windows, breeches in hand, when the irate husband arrived home unexpectedly.”
“At least you haven’t had a husband shoot a pistol at you. Some of them are deuced accurate.” Hawk replenished his brandy glass. “Then there are the young pups who think they will protect their widowed sister’s honor by calling you out.” He shuddered. “I almost had to kill one of them, but my second managed to talk sense into him.”
Giles shook his head. “You two are pitiful. Why don’t you just admit your bachelor days are over? You are grown men and should select a lovely young debutante from the latest crop and settle down. Fill your nursery.”
Cam choked and looked askance at Hawk. “Is Mr. Giles Templeton spewing this rubbish? I thought it was bad enough to witness Bedford willingly stepping up to accept the parson’s noose, but to hear this poetic nonsense spouting from another of our own is a bit much.” He sighed and placed his hand on Giles’s shoulder. “Where did we go wrong, my friend?”
“Ah, but he has the delightful Miss Blake in his sights.” Hawk’s demeanor grew serious, and he lowered his voice. “It was a bloody lucky thing that her sneaking off to the woods the other day didn’t end in disaster. For both of you.”
“I agree. I have spoken to her—” Giles looked up as Suzanna entered the drawing room with Miss Fenster. “If you will excuse me…” He left his two friends smirking at each other and crossed the room, stopping in front of Suzanna.
He bent over her hand and then turned to Miss Fenster. “Ladies, you both look lovely this evening, as always. I’m sure you will make quite a splash with the local gentry.”
Miss Fenster sniffed. “I hope to do better than local gentry, if you please. I would never be happy stuck out here in the wilds. I much prefer the excitement of London.” She turned to Suzanna. “Where would one even find a decent modiste?”
Suzanna cringed at Miss Fenster’s words, which amused him, since Suzanna also preferred a man with a title, a supercilious aspiration in itself. Once again, the thought nudged at him that her claim rang false. The woman he’d grown to know over the last few weeks was anything but ambitious and grasping.
Yet she continued to cling to the idea that he would not do because he was a mister instead of a lord. If her response to his kisses was any indication, it should not take much longer to change her mind.
Since there seemed to be no retort to Miss Fenster’s statement, Giles directed his attention to Suzanna. “May I request the first waltz tonight, Miss Blake?”
Every time they’d encountered each other since the tree incident, she had seemed uncomfortable in his presence. Last night had been a quiet one for the guests, with no activities planned, in preparation for tonight’s ball. Suzanna had excused herself shortly after dinner, claiming fatigue. His eyes had followed her when she’d left the room, and it had taken all his willpower not to follow her up the stairs and coax her into letting him into her bedchamber.
Most times that was what house parties were all about. He’d certainly borne witness to enough scurrying and shuffling outside his door each night as he lay in bed thinking of Suzanna’s silky and softly scented skin. His fingers ached to run down her body, caress her flesh.
But then again, Suzanna was an innocent, not a bored matron or jaded widow. She was a young lady whose prize possession was her virginity, to be guarded at all costs. If things went as he planned, he would be the man to whom she surrendered it. The time had come to admit he’d gone beyond just wanting her. He loved her, and to successfully win her hand, he had to make her fall in love with him.