In the Prince’s Bed by Sabrina Jeffries (26)

Chapter Six

The next afternoon, Katherine sat at the desk in the tiny study of their rented town house dressed in her best violet riding habit. She’d just finished writing this morning’s letters to Cornwall. What an exercise in futility that was. The one to the butcher offering him a prize spring lamb from Merivale Manor’s new birthings to pay off their debt was offset by one to the tailor authorizing a new gown for her sprouting sister Bridget. The girl’s gowns had grown so indecently short that the rector had actually complained to the Merivale housekeeper, who also served as their nanny, governess, and nursemaid.

Thank goodness for old family servants, or she and Mama could never have made this trip, which was supposed to end with her officially betrothed to Sydney and finally in possession of her fortune. Would that ever happen?

A glance at the clock made her sigh. Half an hour until she left to go riding with Alec instead of going to Sydney’s poetry reading as she should. Oh, what had possessed her to agree to that last night?

Pure annoyance, that’s what. Sydney had behaved abominably to her at the ball supper. If he’d even once mentioned the reading to her while he sulked on the journey home, she would have bowed out of her agreement to ride with Alec.

But no, he’d been too angry at her for consorting with his schoolboy nemesis to say a word about when or if he’d pick her up. And Alec was no help at all, gleefully stoking Sydney’s anger by flirting with Katherine.

Her cheeks warmed, and she cursed under her breath. A pox on that man for kissing her and throwing everything into a muddle. Hadn’t she learned anything from Papa’s naughty book?

Clearly, she hadn’t learned enough yet to hold her own with the quick-witted earl. It would behoove her to remind herself of what he was.

Opening the bottom desk drawer, she drew Papa’s wicked chapbook from its hiding place. She read the cheap-looking pamphlet merely to gain knowledge about men, of course. How else could a young lady learn all the ways a rake tempted a woman to sin? As Alec had said last night, knowledge was the best defense.

Glancing around to be sure she was alone—not that Mama would ever venture in here to do any work—she flipped open the book. Then blushed as one of the naughty pictures in the back met her gaze.

The first time she’d seen the naked figures in contorted poses, she’d briefly thought them pictures of Greek sport. After all, the Greeks had performed their sports naked, and the captions—things like “A Wild Ride” and “The Sideward Thrust”—had sounded vaguely athletic.

Then she’d stumbled across “The Wheelbarrow,” the very print she was looking at now. A man held a woman by her ankles as she held on to a wheel. It looked sportlike enough—as if he were pushing her along, perhaps in a race, with a big stick coming out from between his legs.

But a closer look revealed it wasn’t a stick. And the couple clearly had no interest in athletics.

She probably should have thrown the book away when she’d realized what the pictures were, but they’d been too fascinating to ignore. Especially when her knowledge of that area of life had been limited to what she’d gleaned from watching horses and sheep on the estate.

Now she knew more—a lot more. But she wondered, why use such…well…odd positions for lovemaking? Some of them looked downright painful. Like the one where the woman put her ankles on a man’s shoulders—how did a woman get her legs up so high, anyway?

Then there was this next one…but wait, it made more sense today. Perhaps a man would indeed want to put his tongue down there. Perhaps the woman would even enjoy it. Katherine had certainly enjoyed having Alec’s tongue in her own mouth last night; it had made her feel hot all over. Apparently men liked putting their tongues in certain places, and women liked having them put there.

If she were to judge from these pictures, though, tongues weren’t the only things men liked to stick into women. But she wasn’t entirely convinced that the woman would like having that…that staff stuck into her.

Especially when it was as large as this one in the picture. She turned the book to the side and peered at it. Surely this was an exaggeration…like the woman’s breasts, which were big as cantaloupes and not at all like Katherine’s own decidedly modest ones.

But if the book wasn’t meant to be realistic, then why had Papa bought it in the first place? Or was it just another of his wicked curiosities, like the opera dancer Mama had accused him of toying with out of pure mischief?

Katherine winced, remembering that particular argument, after which she’d had to explain to her sisters what a blowsy slut was. Mama had never been very discreet, but after Grandfather died, any discretion she’d possessed had flown right out the window. Without the influence of her father, Mama felt free to be her natural self. Which unfortunately meant that no subject was too private to air before her children.

Realizing she was still staring at the picture of the man with his tongue in a naughty place, Katherine turned the pages swiftly back to the text. At least the book wasn’t all wicked.

Like this chapter on gifts, about how a man should soften a woman’s resistance with jewels and such. She read the line on flowers: Costly hothouse blooms never fail to make a woman’s heart beat faster, since women are primarily mercenary creatures.

With a snort, she slammed the book shut and shoved it back in the drawer. How like a man to think he must spend money to make a woman’s heart beat faster. But obviously Papa had slavishly followed that bit of advice, or she wouldn’t be in her present fix, having to marry as soon as possible to access her fortune so she could pay the family debts.

The sound of a carriage stopping outside made her jump. Goodness, Alec had come for her early. Now, where had she put her gloves while she was working?

Moments later, she was debating whether the purple-spotted riding gloves she’d bought in that unusual shop in Bond Street were too odd to pair with her violet riding habit, or if she should go fetch sedate ones, when raised voices drifted up to her from the parlor.

Sydney. Lord have mercy.

Snatching up the gloves, she hurried down the stairs.

“What do you mean, Katherine’s going riding with Iversley?” Sydney’s voice sounded from below. “She was supposed to attend my poetry reading.”

Katherine couldn’t hear Mama’s response, but doubted it would mollify him. Lifting the overlong skirts of her riding habit, Katherine flew down the last few steps. She hastened into the cramped parlor just in time to hear Mama say that poetry was a humbug she wished her daughter would give up entirely.

While Sydney turned apoplectic at such heresy, Katherine hastily interjected, “Good afternoon, Sydney. What are you doing here?”

He whirled around. “You know very well. The reading starts in an hour.”

Katherine took a steadying breath. “You said nothing about it when you brought us home last night. I wasn’t even sure what time it began.”

Sydney winced. “I…er…forgot to…um…”

“I assumed you’d changed your mind about having me accompany you.”

With a woeful expression, Sydney turned to her mother. “Mrs. Merivale, might I speak to Katherine alone?”

“I wouldn’t dream of leaving you unchaperoned.” A scheming expression crossed Mama’s face. “Especially when the two of you aren’t even enceinte.”

Sydney blanched at the very mention of pregnancy. “I should say not!”

Katherine barely choked back a laugh. “Mama means ‘engaged.’ ” Poor Sydney should know by now never to listen to her mother’s tortured French.

“That’s what I said,” Mama protested.

“No, you said we were…oh, never mind. It doesn’t matter.” And Mama wouldn’t remember anyway. “But please do give us a moment.”

Her mother sniffed. “Very well. But don’t forget that his lordship will be arriving shortly for your ride.”

“His lordship can go to perdition,” Sydney muttered under his breath, as Mama flounced from the room.

Katherine sighed. Sydney’s jealousy should make him more attentive, not throw him into a sulk. And what right did he have to sulk anyway? He was the one taking her for granted. She’d had enough of it.

“See here,” Sydney said, as soon as her mother was gone, “I don’t want you anywhere near Iversley.”

The high-handed statement sparked Katherine’s temper. “You should have thought of that last night when you left here without a word.”

He looked chagrined. “I’ll admit that was rude, but I didn’t expect—”

“That I would accept another man’s invitation? Or make other plans? Or assume from your behavior at supper that you were washing your hands of me?”

“What? Did that devil Iversley put such ideas in your head? I’ve always intended to marry you, Kit. You know that.”

“You have a funny way of showing it.”

“Dash it all, I know I behaved horridly to you last night, but I was put out by your flirting with Iversley.”

“I was not flirting—”

“I know you were upset with me, and rightly so.” He tugged nervously at his cravat. “I don’t even blame you for dancing with the man—I see now that you were striking back at me for not…well…showing you what you mean to me.” His sullen gaze met hers. “But I figured you’d be over your fit of temper by now.”

How dare he dismiss her legitimate concerns as mere feminine pique! “I was not having a fit of temper last night, but I certainly am now. And if you think I’ll go anywhere with you—”

A hard rap sounded on the front door. She lifted her head proudly. “That’s probably Lord Iversley, come to take me riding. So if you’ll excuse me…”

She started to brush past him, but Sydney stepped into her path. “Please, Kit, don’t be cross with me. I can’t bear it.”

When she met his gaze, the hurt confusion on his face dissolved all her anger. The door opened in the hall, and her mother loudly welcomed the earl, but Katherine couldn’t leave her dear friend. “I’m not cross at you. I’m merely frustrated. And you know why.”

“I spoke to Mother about us this morning.”

“What did she say?” Her hope was tempered by a healthy dose of cynicism.

A stubborn look crossed his face. “Mother didn’t understand why we’re in such a hurry to settle things. Why we can’t wait until she’s not ill.”

Katherine ignored her roiling stomach. Stay the course, Alec had said. Clearly he’d been right—Sydney would never defy his mother without serious prodding. “Then you must explain it to her better. Because in two weeks—”

“All right, all right,” he grumbled. “But why can’t you…well…spend time with me while you’re waiting? Instead of with that devil Iversley?”

“I don’t know why you call him a devil.” She drew on a glove with studied nonchalance. “He seems perfectly nice to me.”

He grabbed her arm as if to shake her. “The man’s a blackguard if ever there was one. And if you think for one moment that he’s interested in marriage—”

“Good afternoon, Miss Merivale,” said a steely voice from the doorway.

Glancing up to find Alec watching them, she quickly withdrew her arm from Sydney’s grip. Alec scowled at Sydney before his brooding gaze settled on her, hot and intense, drying the breath in her throat. As he swept it down her, she swallowed, suddenly conscious of how worn and out-of-fashion her favorite riding habit must seem to a man of his worldly sophistication.

But judging from the admiring gleam in his eye, he found nothing wanting. “You look very pretty this afternoon. That color suits you.”

“Thank you, Lord Iversley. How nice of you to say so.” She shot Sydney a cold glance. “Some men do not approve of my choice of colors.”

Sydney flushed. “Or perhaps those men are simply too engrossed in more important matters to think up pretty flatteries for you.”

From behind Alec, Mama scowled first at Katherine, then at Sydney. “Important matters? I hope you’re not talking about poetry. Fashion is far more important than any silly old poem.”

Sydney searched Katherine’s face. “You don’t think so, do you, Kit?”

“Of course not. But I’m afraid that doesn’t change anything.” She flashed Alec a brilliant smile. “I was just telling Sir Sydney that I can’t attend his poetry reading at the Freeman Assembly Rooms this afternoon.”

“I shall be quite lost without you there,” Sydney said, ignoring Alec entirely. “And people will think it strange that I’m dedicating a poem to the most important woman in my life, yet she hasn’t bothered to attend.”

“You mean your mother won’t be there, either?” Katherine said sweetly. The stricken look on Sydney’s face made her instantly curse her quick tongue.

“I didn’t tell Mother about it,” he said. “I wanted to be with you instead.”

She sucked in a breath. Sydney had actually chosen her over his mother?

No, more likely he’d thought he could better bring his mother round to his way of thinking if she weren’t exposed to Katherine and her vulgar family too much.

“Miss Merivale,” Alec interrupted from the doorway, “if we don’t leave now, the park will be too crowded for riding.”

Grateful for the earl’s intervention, she said to Sydney, “I must go.”

“Must you?” The mute appeal on his face made pain clench in her gut. Was she being too cruel, too demanding?

Mother didn’t understand why we’re in such a hurry.

She stiffened. Sometimes one had to demand what one deserved. Lord knew she deserved Sydney, after all the years she’d waited for him. “I’m afraid I must.”

“Shall I stop by this evening to let you know how it went?” he asked hopefully.

On impulse, she reached out and squeezed his arm. “If you wish.”

Mama chirped, “I’ll see you out, Sir Sydney.”

Sydney hesitated, but clearly recognized that he was outnumbered. With a bow, he murmured, “Good day, Katherine.” Then, sweeping wordlessly past Alec, Sydney headed off down the hall with Mama.

Alec called after him, “Good day, Lovelace. Enjoy your poetry reading.”

Katherine glared at Alec. “Must you rub it in?” She drew on her other glove. “The poor man is distraught enough as it is.”

“And no wonder,” Alec drawled as he strolled toward her. “He has to stay inside a moldy assembly room on this brilliant spring day while we’re out riding.”

She chewed on her lower lip, unable to shake her guilt at wounding Sydney.

Her mother reappeared in the doorway. “Katherine loves to ride. At home, I’m always having to send somebody out to the heath to find her.”

Alec gazed warmly at Katherine. “Then you won’t mind if we ride at St. James’s Park instead of Rotten Row. I understand it’s prettier and not so busy this time of year.”

“Oh, Katherine loves all sorts of parks.” Mama shot her a stern look. “Tell his lordship how you like parks, my dear.”

After Mama’s lecture this morning about how lucky Katherine was to have the attentions of a man as lofty as the Earl of Iversley, she was in no mood to start a row. “Yes, I do like parks. St. James’s will be fine.”

“You see?” her mother put in, mollified. “She won’t care where you ride, my lord. You take her wherever you please.”

An odd smile played over Alec’s lips as he swept Katherine with a smoldering look. “Certainly, madam. I shall be pleased to take your daughter…anywhere.”

Mama went on babbling about her daughter’s excellent riding and other accomplishments, but Katherine paid no attention. Why had he given a perfectly ordinary word like “take” such a wicked intonation? How did he manage to imbue every word with a naughtier meaning? And that possessive way he stared at her, as if he couldn’t wait to get his hands on her again…

A delicious shock of excitement trilled along her nerves, and she scowled. He said and did these things to provoke her. Or seduce her.

Goodness knew he looked handsome enough to tempt any woman, especially in that azure coat that made his eyes glitter lake blue in the sunny parlor. And those buckskin riding breeches and military long boots…must they fit him so well, lovingly outlining every well-wrought muscle in his—

Yanking her gaze back to his face, she found him watching her with thinly veiled satisfaction. When he had the audacity to wink at her as her mother chattered on, she couldn’t prevent a blush.

This was a dangerous game she played, spending time with a rascal merely to entice the man she wanted. She’d always disapproved of girls who engaged in such antics, but she couldn’t deny the effectiveness. Sydney had never before been so determined to have her company.

And she’d turned him down. He’d looked so stricken, poor thing, when she’d refused to go to his reading. A hollow fear settled in her belly. Had she gone too far? Might she lose Sydney entirely if she persisted?

She just couldn’t.

“Mama,” she broke in, “I left my pink shawl upstairs. Would you fetch it?”

“Of course, dear heart. Can’t have you catching a chill, can we?”

Alec went on alert the instant Katherine banished her mother. He’d already guessed something was up with his wily wife-to-be, but now he suspected he knew what it was. So he wasn’t surprised when she faced him as soon as her mother left, and said, “Instead of riding in St. James’s Park, might we ride over to—”

“No.”

She gaped at him. “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“You were going to ask if we could ride over to attend Lovelace’s reading. And the answer is no.”

With typical forthrightness, she didn’t attempt to deny it. “But we could ride in the park afterward. And the Freeman Assembly Rooms are only a mile away.”

“I don’t care how close they are. We’re not going there.”

She glared at him. “Why not?”

Because he remembered how she’d looked a few moments ago—wearing her heart on her sleeve while that ass Lovelace begged her to go with him. And because the odd disquiet surging through Alec at the sight was as unwelcome as it was unfamiliar. “You agreed to spend the afternoon with me, not him. And I mean to have my afternoon.”

His leashed temper must have shown in his face, for she swallowed. “We’re supposed to make Sydney jealous, and he can only get jealous if he sees us together.”

“He saw us here together, and he knows we’re going riding together.” He flashed her a taunting smile. “I’m sure his imagination will do the rest.”

The willful wench set her shoulders stubbornly. “This scheme was meant to help me snag Sydney. But if you’re going to turn it into some sort of competition, then I’ll end it now.”

He stepped closer. She was bluffing. Nothing had changed between her and Sydney last night, or she wouldn’t have chosen Alec over her inattentive suitor today. Surely she realized that if she abandoned the scheme too early, her blasted Sydney would return to his old ways.

But did he dare risk that she wasn’t bluffing? When he could just as easily turn this to his advantage?

A slow smile curved up his lips. “All right, we’ll go to your precious poet’s reading. But if I have to endure a drafty hall and bad verse, you have to promise me some reward for it.”

She eyed him suspiciously. “What sort of reward?”

With a glance toward the open doorway, he lowered his voice. “A kiss.”

Her breath quickened as she dropped her gaze. “We agreed to no kissing.”

“We also agreed to no discussion of Sydney, yet you expect me to spend the afternoon watching you swoon over his verse.”

“I do not swoon,” she said with a petulant frown.

“That will make the afternoon only marginally better. So what’s it to be? A kiss in exchange for the poetry reading? Or no kiss and a pleasant afternoon’s ride through St. James’s Park?”

He could see her weighing her options, but he suspected she would choose the kiss. This reading was clearly important to Lovelace—she wouldn’t risk alienating him, thank God.

Ever since last night, Alec had burned to touch her again, to taste her luscious mouth and feel those trembling arms clinging to his neck as her rose water scent engulfed him. Now he’d have his chance.

“Very well.” Approaching him with more boldness than sense, Katherine lifted her face. “Take your cursed ‘reward’ and let’s go.”

Foolish female. If she believed she could get around him that easily, she was in for a surprise. Alec wasn’t about to let her play with him and escape unscathed.

With a chuckle he clasped her chin, taking a moment to relish the fine softness of her skin. Then he ran his thumb over her lower lip with a sensuous stroke. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? I start to kiss you, you hear your mother on the stairs, and it’s over before it even begins.” He dropped his hand. “Not a chance, sweetheart. I’ll choose when, where, and how to take my kiss.”

The flash of alarm in her face settled into annoyance quick enough. “As you wish, Alexander the Great. So when will that be?”

“I’ll let you know.” He grinned, then bent his head until his mouth hovered so close to her ear that he could smell the rose water in her hair. “But don’t worry, my demanding Miss Merivale—I promise not to bring you home without one.”

She jumped back so quickly that she nearly tripped over the tea table, and the becoming blush staining her cheeks told him all he needed to know. She wanted him to kiss her, whether she’d admit it or not.

Donning her I’m-a-proper-miss-and-don’t-you-forget-it expression, she turned toward the door. “Then we might as well go. If we leave now, we’ll have just enough time to make it.”

“Make what?” her mother demanded from the doorway, the requested pink shawl trailing from her arm.

Panic leaped instantly in Katherine’s face. Her eyes cast Alec a silent appeal he was sorely tempted to ignore. But that wouldn’t gain him anything.

He flashed her mother a cordial smile. “Make a…er…present. I was just telling your daughter about the gift I had made up for you at the Soho Bazaar.”

“Really?” A girlish smile lit Mrs. Merivale’s features.

Actually, he’d had it made up for Katherine, but under the circumstances…

Reaching into his coat pocket, he drew out a painted fan. “The man was painting scenes by request, so I thought of what you said last night about enjoying London balls and…voilà.” With a little flourish, he offered it to her.

“Why, Lord Iversley, how thoughtful of you.” She examined the sticks with a mercenary eye. “Carved ivory, very nice. It must have cost you a pretty penny.”

Thank God the woman didn’t know ivory from bone.

Mrs. Merivale opened the fan, then frowned. “But the couple is dancing alone on a balcony.” She peered at it. “I think they’re dancing. I can’t quite—”

“There was no time to paint more than two figures,” Alec put in hastily, hoping she wouldn’t notice until later that the couple was kissing. “But I’m sure every fellow who dances with you wishes he had you all to himself.”

Mrs. Merivale laughed her raucous laugh and told him he was a shameless flirt, but at least no more questions ensued about their destination.

The shawl was proffered and refused by Katherine, who said she’d decided against it. Moments later they headed down the steps with a maidservant to serve as a chaperone. Fortunately, he’d used some of his meager funds to hire an extra pony. By God, this courtship business got more expensive by the hour.

“That fan wasn’t intended for my mother, was it?” Katherine whispered, as they descended the stairs.

Pleased that she’d figured it out, he cast her a look of mock outrage. “Are you accusing me of lying?”

“I’m accusing you of doing whatever suits your wicked purposes.” But a small smile graced her lush lips, sending a hot rush of need straight to his loins.

“You were the only one to benefit from it.”

“True.” Her smile broadening, she squeezed his arm. “Thank you, not only for agreeing to take me to the reading, but for hiding it from Mama.”

Pure mischief seized him. “Does that mean I get two rewards later?”

“Absolutely not!”

“Too bad. Now I’ll have to make the one be worth all my trouble.”