A Lady's Guide to Improper Behavior by Suzanne Enoch (5)

Tolly stared after Theresa as she and the lumbering Adonis known as Lord Lionel Humphreys trotted away. A heady mix of heat, lust, and pain seared through his muscles, rendering him taut and speechless at the same time.

Sweet Lucifer. All she’d done was appear, and all he could think of was bare skin and sweat and sweet moans of pleasure. While it might have been his fault for being unable to resist riding her down and then teasing her, he hadn’t expected that the impossible chit would still want to dance with him—even after he’d mauled her the last time she’d saved him a dance.

Still breathing hard from the morning’s exercise, Tolly patted Meru on the flank. “That’s enough for today, I think.”

Taking a more sedate pace mostly because Mayfair’s late morning traffic demanded it, he headed back to Ainsley House and the Adventurers’ Club. His knee felt on fire, but at least on horseback he could move the way he used to. For an hour or two, for a handful of miles, he could forget that he’d allowed fifteen men to die while he’d lived.

Except that he never forgot. Not until today. Today he’d been thinking about Theresa Weller—and then she’d appeared twenty feet away from him.

“He looks winded, Colonel,” Jenkins observed as he gripped Meru’s bridle. “You had a good ride, then?”

“Yes,” he answered, as he always did. The Ainsley House grooms had proved to be as helpful as those at James House, and without waiting to be asked the second groom, Harlow, carefully pulled his boot from the stirrup, then stepped around to help him to the ground.

Tolly swung his leg over, and Harlow helped support his weight until he could free his right foot. The second his bad foot touched the ground, though, white-hot agony shot all the way up his spine into his skull, where it exploded. Before he could do more than gasp, everything went black.

 

A cut-off scream, and then the worse sound of absolute silence. A quiet filled with murder and death. Then screams that broke through, first one, then more, all around. Shouting, gunfire, a burst of flames and the glint of steel. Being choked—

Tolly roared upright, wrapping his hands around the throat of the man leaning over him. A heartbeat later an arm snaked around his neck and shoulder from behind, pulling him down again.

“Colonel! Tolly! Let him go!”

He blinked, the present crashing back into his mind. “Gibbs,” he rasped, and released the servant. The man staggered backward, coughing.

“He was untying your cravat.” The arm pulling him back onto the bed relaxed and vanished, and the Duke of Sommerset stood to straighten the sleeve of his fine gray jacket.

“Apologies,” Tolly grunted, rubbing his own throat. “You startled me, Gibbs.”

“I’ll try not to do that again, then, Colonel.”

He was in the small room he’d commandeered at the club, and in addition to Sommerset and Gibbs, Dr. Prentiss and Harlow the groom were packed inside, as well. With a scowl Bartholomew pulled himself into a seated position on the bed.

“Did someone convene Parliament when I wasn’t looking?” he asked stiffly. “And where are my damned trousers?” His frown deepening, he adjusted the blanket thrown across his middle.

“Ruined, I’m afraid,” Dr. Prentiss answered, indicating a ripped pile of dark cloth on the floor.

“I fainted. The devil knows I’ve done that before. You didn’t need to strip me. So thank you for carrying me off, and now leave me be.”

“About that,” Prentiss continued, clearing his throat. “You’ve been using your leg a bit hard, lad.”

“It’s my leg. I’ve been using it as necessary.”

“Mmm-hmm. Who tended it in India?”

Tolly looked from Sommerset to the physician. “Arnold. The company’s head groom.”

“A groom.”

“The company’s doctor was traveling with my unit. He was killed.” He watched, seeing the looks of mingled sympathy and supposed understanding on their faces. “It was some time before I could reach Arnold. He did what he could. I have nothing to complain about.”

“The bone just below your knee was broken in what looks like two places,” Prentiss said. “I took the liberty of examining it while you were unconscious. It was never set properly. Every time you walk on it, it shifts. Luckily, your activity has kept the upper break from healing entirely. Unluckily, it keeps tearing the wound open and causing infection.”

“And?” Tolly prompted after a moment.

“The pain must be excruciating.”

“And?” he demanded again.

The doctor folded his arms across his barrel-shaped chest. “And so I can either cut it off, or break it again and set it properly, in which case I might, if you’re lucky, be able to avoid cutting it off.”

For a long moment Tolly regarded him. “So the one is supposed to frighten me into doing the other? Arnold offered to hack the thing off for me in India. I declined. I decline again.”

“And the other? You’ll probably lose it regardless, but if I don’t reset it soon you’ll be permanently subjected to that pain, and you’ll never gain more use of it than you’ve got at this moment.”

Tolly looked down at his bare leg. They’d not only cut off his trousers, but they’d removed his damned boot and the tight leather brace he’d fashioned to hold together his knee while he rode, plus the bandage underneath all of the other clutter. “If I say I’ll consider one offer or the other, will you leave and let me put some blasted clothes back on?”

“I’ll even dress that mess in a fresh poultice and re-bandage it.”

“In a moment, Dr. Prentiss.” Sommerset angled his head at Gibbs, and almost immediately the two servants and the physician were gone from the room.

“You don’t frighten me, either, Sommerset.”

“I know that. Misguided of you, but I haven’t the time at the moment to change your mind.”

“What do you want, then?”

The duke narrowed his steel gray eyes. “Outside of this club, I expect you to address me properly.”

Half hoping this would end in a brawl no matter how poor his odds of winning were at the moment, Tolly nodded. “Outside the club.”

“Secondly, this is a club. Not an infirmary. I don’t mind Gibbs having to pick someone off the floor from time to time, but this place is attached to my house. If Dr. Prentiss keeps calling here, the wags will begin speculating over whether I’m on my deathbed or not. With my stocks and myriad public investments, I can’t have that.”

The breath Tolly took shook a little. Sommerset was booting him out. Panic touched him with cold, familiar fingers. He could rent a small house or an apartment in Town, but that would mean hiring servants. Hiring a keeper. Because however damned little he wanted to admit it, with his leg like this there were things he simply couldn’t do for himself.

“Is that understood?” the duke pressed. “You’re welcome here at any time, but not while you require medical assistance.”

Tolly leaned over to grab his cane and swing his legs off the side of the bed. Without the bandage on, that motion alone nearly brought him down again. “You might have waited to tell me until I had my damned trousers on,” he growled.

“I’m not your wet nurse.” Sommerset walked to the door. “And whatever you think you deserve, Colonel, killing yourself by inches is a bit time-consuming. If you mean to commit suicide, use a pistol.”

“You may have traveled the world, Sommerset, but you’ve never walked in my boots.”

“True enough.”

“Then cease advising me. And someone else decided what I deserve. I’m only living with it.”

“You’re dying with it, but I suppose that’s semantics.” The duke pulled open the door. “I’ll send in Prentiss.”

As the doctor put fresh bandages around his knee, Tolly reviewed his options. Stephen would never ask him to leave James House if he returned there, so he supposed he could make it clear that he wanted to be left alone—or as alone as he could be, considering that half the time he couldn’t pull off his own boots.

As for the rest of it, he wasn’t ready to see his leg gone. Nor was he certain, though, that he wanted to risk additional time in a sickbed for the same eventual outcome. Whatever he truly did deserve was likely to come about with or without his assistance. At the same time, he couldn’t help thinking if he did take another chance, a certain irritating young lady would want to dance with him.

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Grandmama,” Theresa said, not bothering to hide her grin. “That hat is absolutely magnificent.”

Grandmama Agnes reached up to finger the brim of the ostrich feather-topped monstrosity, then reached across the carriage to rap Michael on the knee. “Your sister is a much better liar than you are.”

“Clearly not, if you didn’t believe either of us. Why did you purchase the silly thing, anyway? It looks like a mossy, half-sunk schooner.”

“I think it more resembles the chimney tops of Hampton Court,” Theresa countered, laughing outright now.

“I bought it because I saw Lady Dalloware fondling it, and I can’t abide that woman and her wagging tongue.”

“Well, I hope she attends the party tonight, or you’ll have to wear it a second time.” Michael pulled out his pocket watch and flipped it open. “Tell me again why we’re stopping at James House? We won’t all fit in one carriage, anyway, so I don’t see the point.”

“We’re going because Amelia wants to borrow my pearl ear bobs,” Theresa replied, “and she can’t very well put them on after she arrives at the Ridgemonts’.”

“Ah. As long as it’s something vital.”

“Young man, you have no idea,” their grandmother noted. “Will I finally get to set eyes on the viscount’s younger brother, do you think?”

Theresa’s heart accelerated for a beat or two. “I doubt it,” she supplied, keeping her voice light and uncaring. “He doesn’t reside with them.”

“Damned unpleasant fellow, anyway.” Michael frowned briefly. “He was crippled in India, you know.”

“I’d heard something about that. Poor man. Young Violet always seemed very fond of him.”

“He’s not dead, for heaven’s sake,” Theresa put in. “He’s merely injured and a bit…direct.”

“Direct like a musket ball.” Her brother squinted one eye at her. “Why are you defending him, Troll?”

“I’m not. You described him incorrectly, and I corrected you. Aside from that, you shouldn’t gossip about someone behind his back.”

“Is that in your guide?”

“I’m going to write a second one, I think. It’s going to go in there.”

The coach stopped in front of James House, and a footman and the butler emerged to help them onto the drive and see them into the drawing room upstairs. “Lord and Lady Gardner will be with you shortly,” the butler droned, and exited.

“He seems in a lather, doesn’t he?” Grandmama Agnes observed.

“If Leelee takes as long to dress now as she used to when she resided with us, I can see why.” Michael strolled over to the liquor tantalus to pour himself half a glass of brandy.

“Ha ha.” Theresa dug the pearl ear bobs out of her reticule. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

“If she hasn’t selected a dress yet,” her brother drawled after her, “send down a shout and I’ll go out to White’s for dinner while we wait.”

“I think I’m going to tell Amelia how many cravats you and Mooney ruined tonight attempting that ridiculous knot around your neck.”

“It’s the new fashion, Troll.”

Laughing, Theresa climbed the stairs and turned down the hallway leading along the north-facing wing of the house. She went slowly; she’d only been in James House a handful of times, and she would feel foolish if she became lost.

Stopping outside the closed doors of the master bedchamber, she hesitated. Her cousin was a married lady now. Heavens, her husband might be in there, as well. Tess certainly didn’t wish to interrupt them. They’d only been married for six months, after all.

“So you do have common sense.”

She jumped. Immediately she recognized the deep voice across the hallway behind her, but it was too late to pretend she hadn’t been startled. Blast it all. “Common sense and the good manners to make my presence known so I don’t frighten anyone half to death.”

When she turned around Colonel James stood in the doorway of the room opposite. As usual he had a cane gripped in one hand, his long, lean body canted slightly to one side as he attempted to keep weight off his bad leg.

“You startled me,” he returned, regarding her evenly. “For the second time today, I might add.”

“You didn’t sound startled,” she retorted defensively. “Either time.”

He ignored that. “You know, that’s the first time I’ve seen you hesitate at anything.” Golden eyes trailed from her face down to her toes and back again.

Warmth crept up her cheeks. “Well?” she demanded, when he didn’t say anything. She was accustomed to men scrutinizing her, but a compliment on her appearance generally followed.

“The color of the gown makes your eyes look more gray than green,” he said, still studying her face.

“Is that your idea of a compliment?” She scowled to cover the fact that both his gaze and his direct words continued to unsettle her. It was almost as if he didn’t see the gown or the hair ribbons, but rather noticed only…her.

“It was an observation.” Swinging the cane forward, he limped into the hallway, directly up to her.

Theresa lifted her chin to keep her gaze on his. “Are you visiting?” she asked, attempting to keep her attention away from his wickedly sensual mouth and the thoughts of the kiss in the Haramund garden.

“I’ve moved back in. For the moment.” His gaze momentarily broke from hers, letting her breathe again. “My former host didn’t appreciate the frequency with which I lost my footing.”

“That’s rude of him.”

“I didn’t say it was a him,” the colonel replied. Leaning toward her a little, he knocked the end of his cane against the closed master bedchamber door beyond her. Then, with the first grin she’d seen him wear, a wicked, humorous expression that made him look younger than his twenty-eight years, he turned and headed toward the back of the house and the narrow servants’ stairs there.

She opened her mouth to retort that no one residing with a woman—not in the way he implied—would have kissed her the way he did. Before she could utter a sound, though, the door in front of her opened.

“Tess!” Amelia exclaimed, her faced flushed and a smile on her face. “I—we were—”

“Here,” Theresa said, handing over the ear bobs. “I’ll be downstairs.” Without a backward glance she strode off in the direction Colonel James had taken.

She found him four steps down from the top, his hands braced against either side of the narrow walls and his cane hooked over one thumb as he swore under his breath.

Arguing with him or not, she didn’t like seeing him in such obvious pain. Grimacing, she caught up to him and pulled the cane out of his fingers. “You are n—”

With a breath-freezing hiss he whipped around. Before she could react he had a forearm across her chest shoving her against the wall, the other hand fisted and headed for her face. Gasping, she squeezed her eyes closed.

The blow never came. She opened one eye to see his fist lowered, his mouth inches from hers, breath warm on her lips. “Apologies,” he said roughly. “I don’t like anyone coming up behind me.”

Theresa nodded. “I can see that. Would you please release my bosom?”

He stayed where he was, his hard body pressing her against the wall, close enough to kiss but not doing so. “I don’t want to,” he murmured.

Her heart skittered. “Do so anyway, Colonel,” she ordered.

“Call me Tolly.”

“You are…not behaving,” she bit out, realizing both that she could fairly easily push him down the stairs and that she had no intention of doing so. He might act like a wild creature who went about grabbing women by the bosom, but she would not misbehave in turn.

“I’ve never found much benefit in following the rules.” He raised his free hand again, this time to brush his fingers against her hair. “I haven’t heard a woman say my name in a long time, Theresa. Say my name.”

She pulled in a hard breath, pretending to be annoyed rather than unsettled and excited by the intimacy. “Very well. Tolly. Better?”

“Infinitely.” Slowly he ran his fingertips along her cheek, making her shiver. “So many handsome gentlemen courting you, Tess,” he whispered, “and yet here you are.” Finally he brushed his mouth against hers, lightly at first, making her ache, then hotter and more insistently. He shifted his confining hand to join the other at her shoulders.

The cane clattered onto the step and then down to the small landing below. She noted the sound distantly, every ounce of her immediate attention on where Tolly touched her. Mouth first, expert and delicious and breathless, then his hands tugging her hips forward against his. The immediate, insane desire to put her hands on his bare, warm skin seized her, making her moan.

“Tess? Where the devil are you?” Amelia’s voice echoed from the hallway just above them.

With another hot, openmouthed kiss, Tolly broke the embrace. “I can’t run,” he murmured, brushing a fingertip down the front of her throat. “You should.”

For a heartbeat she didn’t want to move. She wanted more kisses, more touches. His cynical gaze, though, brought her back to herself. He expected her to flee. She could even guess what he was thinking. Why would she want anyone to know that she’d been compromised at all—much less by him?

Theresa narrowed her eyes. No one had seen them, and she refused to be intimidated. Not by some aggravating man who thought none of the rules applied to him. “I’m on the stairs, Leelee,” she called. “With Tolly.”

He blanched as she lifted an eyebrow at him. “You little…” With a curse he grabbed her hand and placed it around his waist, sliding his free arm across her shoulders and turning back down the stairs as Amelia came into view above them. “I lost my balance,” he grumbled, his eyes glinting.

Amelia made a sympathetic sound. “Oh, dear. Shall I call for Stephen?”

Even through his clothes Theresa felt Tolly’s spine tense. “Oh, no,” she said aloud, waving her free hand up at her cousin. “We can manage. We’ll meet you around front, shall we?”

“Of course. Thank you for the ear bobs. I’ll see you in a moment.”

As soon as Amelia’s footsteps faded from hearing, Tolly jerked halfway around to face her. “I’m not meeting anyone around front. Go to your own damned party.”

With him down a step, they were eye to eye. His expression could likely melt glass, but she didn’t feel in the mood to be trifled with, either. “You’re dressed for it,” she noted, meeting his furious, frustrated gaze squarely. “And I think we’ve established that you have a thought for at least your own reputation. So yes, you are going with us to the Ridgemont soiree.”

Whatever the condition of his leg, she knew without a doubt that Tolly James was not a man to be bullied into something he didn’t wish to do. When he uttered another curse and continued down the stairs, she felt both relieved and thrilled. He wanted to go. With her.

“I don’t need your damned help,” he growled, shrugging out of her grip.

“You’re the one who put my hand there.”

“Only because I was in error about you having common sense. You don’t have the sense God gave a kitten.”

She frowned again, brushing past him as they reached the landing and retrieving his cane before he could regret his short-sighted rejection of her assistance. Clutching it, she proceeded down the remainder of the stairs to wait at the bottom.

“What, no response to that?” he jibed, a little out of breath as he hitched himself down toward her.

“Is it my lack of sense or the grayness of my eyes this evening that compelled you to kiss me, then? Or was it perhaps your parting from the imaginary woman with whom you claimed to be living?” she retorted, glaring up at him.

That compelling mouth of his twitched before it dove back into a scowl. “The eye color.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes. I’m partial to gray.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

She didn’t believe that, of course. It was entirely possible, however, that he was as mystified by his attraction to her as she was by the effect he had on her. No good would come of it; Colonel Tolly James was an angry, defensive man who’d in three seconds gone from nearly striking her to kissing her. But something had kept her thinking about him for the past two days, even while she danced and drove and rode and chatted with a half dozen other gentlemen who’d already made their intentions toward her very clear, and who knew how to behave themselves.

When he finally reached the level floor just outside the kitchen, she held out his cane to him. “Thank you,” he said, not sounding grateful at all. “And don’t ask me to dance with you tonight. We both know that that’s an impossibility. Nor is it particularly amusing.”

“I have no intention of asking you to dance,” she said, falling in beside him as they left the house through the servants’ entrance and slowly made their way up the carriage drive to the front of the house. “From now on you will have to ask me to dance.”

“I will not do that.”

With a quick smile she left his side and climbed into her brother’s carriage. “Yes, you will,” she returned, leaning out again. “I’ll save you a place on my dance card.”