“They are well. I believe they will travel to Tintagel to see my sister for the holidays,” he added.
“Cornwall for Christmas—that sounds lovely.”
“It will be.” Derrick thought of his younger sister, who had recently married and was living on the coast of Cornwall. The man she’d married had been a dangerous smuggler, and Derrick’s sister, Judith had gotten caught up in his schemes while visiting Tintagel with a friend. As it turned out, the smuggler was also a powerful viscount and had fallen madly in love with Derrick’s sister.
He rose from the settee after finishing his tea. “I should go back to my townhouse to dress for dinner.” He was still in his riding clothes and smelled of hay and leather.
As he stood, Martha seemed to sense that she might lose him. “But youwillbe back. Barrett will expect you, and you will not disappoint him. Besides, you haven’t seen Arianna in more than two years. She has become quite a lovely young lady, and it’s important she practices speaking with men. She didn’t have much of a chance the year she debuted. I thought you might show up and allow her one dance...”
She let the thought linger in the air between them. She clearly hoped for a match, and perhaps once it might have been possible, but with the bad blood between himself and Lucas as well as his heart being crushed by Augusta, he feared it was no longer possible for him to love.
“I will return for dinner,” he promised Martha as he left.
As he collected his hat from a footman and summoned his horse from the stables, he heard footsteps upon the stairs behind him. His breath stilled in his lungs as he turned and gazed at the vision coming toward him.
Arianna had changed out of her dark-red velvet riding habit and now wore a soft rose-colored gown that accented every curve of her body. His hands twitched with the urge to grasp her and pull her close so he could press those curves to his body. Her red hair had been redone so that it now shone like it was infused with gold. A loose tendril dangled against her neck. Derrick had to fight back the urge to reach up and spool the coil of hair around his finger while his mouth sought hers in a kiss.
“Are you leaving already?” She tried to hide her disappointment; he saw that well enough.
“I shall return for dinner. I don’t think your mother deserves to have a man smelling of the stables at her dinner table.” He paused, feeling the sudden need to tell her about the plans that had been imposed upon him by her mother. “Apparently, I’m to join you at Asgil Hall in three days for Christmas.”
“Oh?” Her eyes lit up, but she cloaked the expression and gave him an almost mocking look, as though to pretend she wasn’t glad about it. “Such a thrill to see you twice in three days.”
“An affordable thrill, one you may purchase at any time with a smile,” he teased, unable to deny how much he liked to see her flushed and unsure of herself. He liked her unbalanced and confused, but only when it came to him. In everything else, he wanted her to be bold and confident. Yes, he wanted that adorable shyness and bafflement for him and him alone, and he hadn’t the faintest clue why. Perhaps he wasn’t used to women being that way with him. He slept with trained courtesans, clever widows, and other experienced, unattached women. But Arianna was none of those things. Was it just that she was innocent? Surely he wasn’t such a bounder as to be drawn to that alone.
No, there was more to her than that. Whatever it was, it was pulling him in. Perhaps it was the way she gazed up at him with such soft yearning? And yet she challenged him, making him own up to feelings he hadn’t wanted to admit. That was dangerous.
“You’re truly coming to Asgil Hall for Christmas?” That sweet vulnerability and hope he’d seen in her eyes when he had torn that fool Cumberland off her in the park was back. She was looking at him like he was a damned hero.
He cleared his throat. “I suppose I am. It’s not easy saying no to your mother.”
At this she smiled, the very smile he had hoped to win from her. “It’s rather impossible, isn’t it?” The sound of her laugh hit him hard in the chest. It was a musical sound, so excruciatingly perfect that for a moment he was left utterly speechless and unable to think. He could only feel how beautiful the sound was and how it warmed a part of his heart he’d believed had been frozen.
Derrick cleared his throat again as he moved toward the door. “I shall see you in a few hours for dinner.”
“Yes... yes, of course.” Her reply was so breathlessly hopeful he wanted to spin back toward her and pull her into his arms. He resisted the urge and rushed out into the cold, wintry afternoon, desperate to clear his lungs of Arianna’s scent for fear he might get too attached to it.
If only he had a current mistress, one who could distract him, but he had parted company with his last opera singer a week before on good terms. She had a new protector now, a good fellow who would spoil her the way she deserved—the way Derrick wanted to spoil Arianna. He had the sudden urge to see Arianna draped in jewels just to see her eyes light up with joy. Perhaps he could buy a diamond or two for her. It would be Christmas soon, after all, and he would need to buy presents for the family.
As Derrick mounted his horse, he caught sight of a woman exiting a coach two houses away. His heart lurched inside him, and he felt ill. An all-too-familiar stunning creature in soft orange silk descended the coach steps, taking the hand of the liveried footman who assisted her.
Augusta Merritt, only now she wore a duchess’s coronet and held the title of Lady Westmere. The sight of her was enough to halt him in his tracks, but the restless yearning he had once held for this woman was no more. She had cost him too much. She had taken his heart and paraded it about on a platter, and she had done the same to Lucas.
He and Lucas never had a single quarrel until the day Augusta had swanned gracefully into their lives. With her coquettish smiles and flirtatious manner, she’d pitted him and Lucas against each other in a desperate battle for her hand. They’d even challenged each other to a duel at one point, and it was only by the grace of God that Derrick’s horse had thrown a shoe and he’d failed to make the appointment. According to his second, Lucas had also failed to show, and Derrick learned later that he had been ill. Fate alone had kept the two of them from killing each other.
The irony of it was that in the end Augusta had wanted neither of them. She had played with them only to amuse herself while she waited for the old Duchess of Westmere to die. Then she had moved in and captured the aging duke’s attention. But by then the damage was done; Derrick and Lucas had vowed never to speak again. They knew each other well enough to guess their other’s whereabouts on any given day and time and thus far had managed to avoid one another.
But not a day went by when Derrick hadn’t weighed Augusta’s games against what it had cost him. A few dozen kisses, a handful of smiles and silly promises in exchange for losing a man who had been a brother to him.
Augusta climbed the steps to the townhouse and paused as if sensing someone was watching her. Her gaze drifted toward him, and she tilted her head, as though she pitied him. A flash of anger made him hiss a curse softly to himself, one that would have made Arianna blush right down to her toes.
He didn’t want Augusta’s pity, and he certainly didn’t want Augusta. But it forced him to face the question, whatdidhe want? The echo of Arianna’s laughter filled his head, and he sighed. Even if he did want her, he couldn’t have her, not forever. Lucas would never allow it, nor would Derrick’s bitter heart. Christmas was his only chance to take Arianna to bed and give her what pleasure he could. But afterward he would have to walk away so she didn’t lose her brother the way he had. It would make him a cad, but at least she would have the chance, if she desired to, to know passion at the hands of a man who saw her value and wouldn’t hurt her the way Solomon had wanted to.
“Arianna,how was your ride this afternoon, aside from falling from your horse?” Arianna’s mother had joined her in the drawing room. Martha was now at her writing desk, scribbling a few more invitations to Asgil Hall for Christmas. Unlike most women, who preferred their own private studies, her mother chose to conduct her correspondence in the drawing room so she could work on her letters while she spoke to guests and friends.
“It was not what I had hoped,” Arianna admitted.
“Mr. Cumberland didn’t offer for you, then? I knew you had hoped he would.”
