She caught the last of her tears on dainty fingertips. “Yes, I—I’m sorry. Forgive me, my lord.”
“Of course I forgive you.” He stroked a careless hand over her silky dark hair, even as his muscles tensed with the effort it took not to drag her from the garden, bundle her into her carriage, and send her on her way. The drama would only encourage her, and he didn’t have any more patience for her tears and theatrics. He’d left Miss Somerset pale and shaken, visibly reeling from his harsh words to her in the garden, and he needed to set it right again.
Betrothed, not married. You’re aware there’s a difference?
Finn cringed as he recalled the look on her face when he’d said it. She’d flinched away from him as if he’d dealt her a blow. As soon as he rid himself of Lady Beaumont he’d return to her at once, and beg her pardon, preferably before she realized he’d abandoned her to sneak off into the bushes with his mistress.
Former mistress.
He sighed. For a former mistress, Lady Beaumont was troublesome, indeed. “Now, suppose you tell me what this is all about, my dear.”
He already knew, of course. She’d been in a jealous frenzy over his courtship of Miss Somerset for weeks now. He’d expected an explosion when he broke with her the day after Miss Somerset accepted his suit, but Lady Beaumont had held back in favor of making her sentiments known today.
Here.
In the middle of Lady Fairchild’s garden, during a scavenger hunt, with thetonlurking behind every rose bush.
How like her. She’d always had a flair for the dramatic, and now she was ready to perform her closing act.
“Miss Somerset is quite lovely, isn’t she?” Despite her sweet tone, Lady Beaumont’s dark eyes glittered with malice, and her plump lips curved in a satisfied smile. She knew Finn’s tastes didn’t run toward innocent young maidens, and she couldn’t resist reminding him of it.
It was true enough Miss Somerset didn’t send him into a panting froth of lust, but he preferred it that way, and besides, the girl was well enough. Even if she hadn’t been, he had no intention of discussing her shortcomings with Lady Beaumont.
“She won’t be able to satisfy you. You know that, don’t you, Huntington?” Lady Beaumont moved closer, her clever hands slipping inside his coat to stroke his chest. “You may think you can resist your darker nature, but you’re not the kind of man who can ignore your desires. Oh, you might do so for a little while, but your insipid blue-eyed bride won’t interest you for long.”
Miss Somerset didn’t interest himnow, and he doubted it would change once they were wed, but he was a gentleman, and he’d never disparage his future wife to his former mistress. He looked down at Lady Beaumont, a slight smile on his lips. “Ah, but my bride is none of your concern, and neither I am. Not anymore.”
“But you will be my concern again, I think, and soon, Huntington. Your sweet little bride may amuse you for a time, but once the novelty of innocence wears off and she starts to bore you, you’ll come back to me.”
Finn took her hands in his, removed them from his chest, and lowered them to her sides. “No, I won’t, and you’ll only be disappointed if you expect otherwise.”
She didn’t touch him again, but a feline smile drifted across her lips, one that said she knew him better than he knew himself. “I don’t think so, my lord. You see, I’ve known men like you—men with the same dark needs you have. Those needs don’t go away if you deny them, they simply grow stronger, squirming under your skin until you go mad from it. Once that happens, you’ll come back, Huntington.”
He gave her an amused smile. “Men like me? I beg your pardon, but thereareno men like me. I may have spent the past few months dallying in your bed, but that doesn’t mean you know me, my dear.”
She knew only one side of him—the wicked side—but the rest of London knew him as the perfect English gentleman, and he took care to keep it that way. Whatever debaucheries he and Lady Beaumont might have shared, he left them behind as soon as he walked out of her bedchamber, and now he was walking away for good.
Lady Beaumont stood on her tiptoes to croon in his ear. “Oh, but I do know you, and when you come to me, I’ll see you on your knees before I’ll have you back. I’ll make you beg for me, and you’ll do it,my dear. You’ll do anything I ask.”
“I don’t beg. Not for anyone, or anything.”
“No? Shall we find out?”
Finn stood still as she unknotted his cravat and trailed her clever fingers across the bare skin of his throat. Lady Beaumont fancied herself a dangerous seductress, and it couldn’t be denied her plump red lips and sleepy dark eyes had reduced more than one gentleman to a quivering mass at her feet. She’d cut quite a swath through London’s noblemen, leaving a trail of broken hearts in her wake, and she’d no doubt expected to add him to her list of conquered swains.
This scene between them was inevitable. She wasn’t one to rest until she’d exhausted her every option, and she wouldn’t be satisfied until she’d tried to seduce him, and he’d refused her.
“You know, my lord, many gentlemen keep their mistresses when they marry, and apassionategentleman such as yourself may find the marriage bed lacks certain intimacies you’ve grown accustomed to indulging.”
The corners of his lips lifted in a cynical smile. Dear, avaricious Lady Beaumont, so reassuring in her predictability. “Do they, indeed? But a gentleman who would do such a thing can’t be an honorable gentleman, can he?”
“Honorable?” She shook the word off, like so much dust from her boots. “Why, I’d rather say he’s a wise gentleman, to anticipate his needs with such foresight, and what is honor in comparison to wisdom, my lord?”
“The two are not exclusive, my dear. Honorable men are invariably wise, and wise men invariably honorable.” Finn let her push him toward the bench behind him, and within seconds her warm body was writhing between his sprawled legs.
“Never mind honor or wisdom, Huntington. I’ve always preferred foolish, amorous gentlemen, and while you may not be the first, you are most assuredly the second.”
She sank to her knees before him, the corners of her lips turning up in a smug smile when he slid one hand into her dark hair. Well, it stood to reason she’d smile. After all, he’d never before taken hold of her hair to pull herawayfrom him.
