Seducing the Marquess (Lords and Ladies in Love) Read online

  Nash seemed uncommonly interested in Lady Grace. Is this the girl who would one day be her sister-in-law? Although a little too giggly and fussy for her taste, she was, admittedly, pretty and gracious. If the looks she cast in Nash’s direction were any indication, she had hopes of being Lady Clarendon sometime in the future.

  Eugenia turned her attention to Miss Eleanor Cavill, younger daughter of Baron Cavill, who sat next to her. “Are you doing well, Miss Eleanor?”

  The girl broke into a smile that changed her plain face into almost a pretty one. “I am quite well, my lady. And yourself?”

  “Fine. Are you enjoying the Season?”

  “Yes.”

  Not particularly known for her social skills, the girl began examining her skirts, her hands twisting.

  “I love your gown, who is your modiste?” Eugenia hoped to draw the girl out. She’d heard snickers directed at her at a few balls, and her sympathy had been engaged for someone who suffered so in Society. Eleanor’s mother had passed a few years ago, and her companion was older and not familiar with the ins and outs of Society. How brutal it could be without the correct champion.

  A very attractive blush rose to the girl’s cheeks. “Thank you, my lady. Mlle. Sophie sews most of my gowns.”

  Mlle. Sophie was a new modiste who was beginning to make a name for herself. Eugenia had considered using her talents herself. “I would love for you to come for tea one day.”

  “My lady!” The poor girl looked as if she would swallow her tongue. Yes, she needed some help and guidance.

  “Indeed. Please bring your companion. Miss Jenson is her name?”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  “Excellent. I will expect you Tuesday next. My calling hours are between two and four.”

  Eugenia then turned her attention to Lord Althrop on her other side.

  The visit passed pleasantly enough, and before she realized, it was almost four o’clock. “I believe Devon wished to accompany me to the park this afternoon, so I fear I must take my leave.” Eugenia stood and shook out her skirts, taking Lady Grace’s hand and squeezing it slightly.

  “I will see you out.” Nash took her arm, and they gained the stairs to the entrance hall.

  “I am surprised to see you lingering so long. I thought afternoon visits were on your list of things to avoid.” Eugenia smirked at her older brother.

  They reached the front door, and he bent to kiss her cheek. “Perhaps there is a reason why I prefer afternoon visits now.”

  She tapped him on his arm. “I thought as much.”

  As she turned to go, he stopped her with a hand on her elbow. “There is something different about you, Eugenia. You no longer seem so much the…” He stopped, his face flushing red.

  Eugenia raised her eyebrows. “The Ice Queen?”

  He grinned at her sheepishly. “I did not mean to say that.”

  Her smile told him she took no offense. “Yes, you did. I have made a few changes. It was time.”

  “Well, whatever the reason, it suits you well, Sister.”

  She dipped her head. “Thank you. And do not forget you owe me a visit.”

  “I will most likely see Devon at the club later this evening. Select a date and I will even grace your dinner table with my presence. How does that suit?”

  “Very well, my lord. I promised a dinner party to Mother, so we can do a lovely dinner with both of you and a few friends.” She stopped and eyed him carefully. “Shall I extend an invitation to Lady Spencer and Lady Grace, as well?”

  “I would be most pleased if you did.”

  Well, Nash had certainly answered that question. So Lady Grace would be her sister-in-law.

  The ride home passed quickly as Eugenia thought on the evening ahead. Once she and Devon had their ride in the park, she would dress for dinner before they were to attend a rout at Lord and Lady Bennington’s townhouse in Mayfair. Her heart sped up when she thought about what might happen when they returned from the evening’s entertainment.

  Disappointment replaced excitement when Bellows passed her a note from Devon, begging off their ride in the park. Last minute Parliament business had come up, he’d written. She trudged up the stairs to her room and rang for Sally to help her out of her clothes so she could rest before preparing for dinner and their evening out.

  Hard as she tried, her attempted nap eluded her as she continued to stare at the canopy over her bed, wondering if she had been the only one affected by their lovemaking the prior evening. Not that she’d expected Devon to attach himself to her hip, but it almost seemed to her as if he were avoiding her.

  Then she chastised herself. She’d never concerned herself with his whereabouts during the day before. Perhaps she was making too much of his continued absence. She rose and picked up the book she’d been reading and sat by the window seat, attempting to resume where she’d left off.

  Was he avoiding her?

  She shrugged off the thought. She was making much out of nothing. What was it her mother was wont to say in such circumstances?

  A wise man does not make a mountain out of a molehill.

  Her ears perked up at the sound of Devon speaking with Jake in the room next door. He was home! She had to quell the desire to knock on the door adjoining their chambers to speak with him. She had nothing to say that could not wait until dinner.

  Bored with her book and too restless to sit still any longer, she left the room, intending to take a walk in the garden. After she enjoyed the outdoors and strolled among the lovely flowers, her mind would ease and then she could have her bath and dress for dinner.

  Several gowns went through her mind. She cast one aside as unsuitable, another one as not eye-catching enough. The Bennington event, like all routs, would be crowded and noisy. She didn’t particularly care to attend routs, but Devon deemed this an important one because a number of Parliamentary members would be present, and he was still trying to garner support for his bill.

  A bill that he’d admitted was giving him second thoughts.

  About a half hour later, somewhat restored from the walk amid the loveliness that was their garden, she returned to the house and rang once again for Sally.

  She’d decided on one of her new-style gowns, blue satin with a reasonably low neckline, but nothing scandalous. Her matching gloves and slippers would look wonderful with it. Perhaps she would have Sally do her hair differently again, more curls, less severe.

  …

  Devon was torn. When he laid eyes on Eugenia as she floated down the stairs dressed in a stunning gown, with her hair soft and touchable once again, he wanted nothing more than to hustle her back upstairs and have his way with her. Then the cold realization that she was sharing all that warmth and softness with another man gutted him. Didn’t she know she was breaking the rules?

  Women didn’t take lovers until they’d presented an heir and a spare to their husbands. Even then, he had never imagined his Eugenia would fall into that category. Truth be known, he would be just as uncomfortable even if they’d already filled their nursery. Hadn’t he given up his mistress when they’d married?

  Except she doesn’t know that.

  “You look lovely, my dear.”

  Ah, if only he alone were the person to admire her beauty. Then the thought hit him like a bolt of lightning. Will her lover be there tonight? He narrowed his eyes, taking in all the loveliness that apparently wasn’t for him. Well, he would see about that. Tonight he would begin his campaign to learn who this elusive lover was.

  And then break him into bits and pieces before feeding him to the dogs.

  He needed to get some dogs.

  They descended the steps, the scent of her drifting to him as she chatted gaily about the upcoming event. They settled into the carriage, and he slouched in the corner. “I thought you disliked routs,” he grumbled.

  She placed her lovely, delicate, gloved hands in her lap. “Generally I do. But I find I am looking forward to this one.” Her smile made him angry, b
ecause he thought he knew why she was looking forward to this one.

  After making several attempts to engage him in conversation while he merely offered one-word answers, she grew quiet, and the rest of the ride passed in silence. He was anxious to get to the rout and see who was there that had her eyes glowing with excitement and her cheeks flushing with eagerness.

  They entered a drawing room with barely room for them to squeeze inside. The house had been built with two drawing rooms next to each other, with folding doors between them to expand the space for large gatherings. Even with double the space, every inch of the rooms held guests, juggling drinks and attempting conversation above the swell of noise.

  The main purpose of a rout was to be able to say in the coming days that one had been there. Music played, but there was no dancing. Food was served, if one could make it through the crush to access it.

  Devon decided if he were going to catch this libertine, he would have to leave Eugenia’s side. Several women had descended upon them, as well as a few men. Once she was engaged, he bent low and spoke into her ear. “I see Lord Benson with a few of the men I need to help support my bill. I will see you later.”

  Something showed in her eyes that almost seemed like disappointment, but he pushed that thought away. No doubt she was anxious for him to leave so she could meet up with her lover.

  Instead of joining Benson and his group, Devon made his way through the crush toward the front of the room and spoke with Mr. Smythe, which put him in a perfect position to watch Eugenia. Smythe was as boring as the day was long, but Devon was willing to put up with the man’s nattering so he could spy—nay, watch, he corrected himself—Eugenia without her knowing it.

  Several women came and went in his wife’s group, but the men who had swarmed her when they’d arrived hadn’t left her side. Lords Sedgewick, Pembroke, and Rutledge. A light went off, remembering the piece in the newspaper about Lord R leaving with Lady D.

  Rutledge. The snake.

  Then he took a second look at the man and reconsidered his assumption. Although not yet passed his fortieth year, he had very little hair and a great deal of stomach. He assumed Eugenia would have better taste.

  Other men came and went as Smythe droned on, happy, no doubt, to have an audience, a rare occurrence for the man. Devon’s eyes narrowed as Lord Redgrave joined Eugenia. However, he was accompanied by his new bride. Although the man had left London under a cloud of scandal four years prior, he’d been mostly forgiven for his ungentlemanly behavior once he’d married the sister of the woman he’d run out on.

  With the enamored looks on both Redgrave and his wife’s faces, he crossed that man off his list of possibilities.

  Lord Appleby managed to make it through the crowd to Devon’s side. “Say, Devon, Benson and I are hashing over your bill. Come join us.” He glanced in Smythe’s direction. “You’re welcome to join us as well, Smythe.”

  The man waved them off. “No interest in Parliament. I see Falkner across the way.” He hied off through the crowd, searching out his next victim.

  Devon joined the men, and more than an hour passed before he realized he’d forgotten about Eugenia. Disengaging himself from the conversation, he returned to the spot where he’d left her. No longer there.

  So began his search for his wife and the scoundrel who most likely had her alone in the garden or in one of the many empty rooms.

  The hunt produced no results.

  No garden.

  No library.

  “I say, old man, can I help you find something?” Lord Bennington stopped him in the corridor as Devon left the library.

  Startled by the man’s presence, and before he could think of a rational explanation, Devon blurted out, “I am looking for my wife.”

  “Ah, easy to lose one’s spouse in a crush like this.” He waved toward the stairs. “Lady Devon has been in the ladies’ retiring room with my wife for some time now. One of the young misses tore her gown, and even though m’wife’s maid fixed it, the girl is inconsolable.” He shook his head. “Will never understand the female set.”

  Breathing a sigh of relief, Devon returned to the gathering, hoping Eugenia would not be much longer. The mild headache that had started when he realized she was missing had turned into a pounding presence in his head. Too many people, too much noise. He would rather have spent the evening at home with his wife by his side.

  Where he could be sure she was not misbehaving.

  “Lord Bennington sent word you were looking for me?” Eugenia tapped him on the shoulder.

  He was shocked at how happy he was to see her. No messy hair, no disarranged bodice, no lips swollen from kisses. She looked like his Eugenia. “Yes, my dear. I would like to return home if you are also inclined to do so.”

  She took his arm. “Certainly, my lord. I am more than ready.”

  Once they settled into their carriage the pounding in his head eased.

  “Will you be going on to your club?” Eugenia’s soft voice after all that noise soothed him, reminding him how much he’d always enjoyed her peaceful presence.

  “No. I believe I will call it a night.”

  “Are you feeling well, my lord?”

  “Quite. Just longing for the quiet of my library and a glass of good brandy.”

  He kissed Eugenia on the cheek before she retired upstairs for the night. When she seemed to hesitate, he pondered asking her to join him for a drink, but still battling the demons of jealousy and suspicion, he just bid her good night.

  Two brandies later, he trudged upstairs and entered his bedchamber. Jake was ready for him and assisted him out of his clothing. More tired than he should have been, he wished his valet good night, dressed in his banyan, and settled into a chair by the fireplace with a book.

  “Devon?” Eugenia’s voice drifted through the door separating their chambers.

  He rose and moved to the door speaking through the closed portal. “Yes?”

  “I apologize, my lord, but I need some assistance.”

  He opened the door, and his jaw dropped at the sight of Eugenia coming to her feet in the bathtub, naked and dripping water. A low burning fire cast a golden wash and intriguing shadows over her delectable body. Her hair was still up from the evening, but damp tendrils drooped around her face and plastered against her slim neck.

  She shyly covered her breasts with one arm and the patch of curls at the juncture of her thighs with her hand. “Sally has a stomach upset and had to leave me. I am afraid the towel is too far for me to reach.” Uncovering her delectable breasts, her slender arm waved in the direction of two towels sitting on a chair by the doorway.

  When he didn’t move and continued to stare at her slack-jawed, she said, “Can you please fetch a towel for me? I am quite cold.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “’Tis best if a woman has a few secrets from a man.”

  Secrets of the Bedchamber, p. 87

  Eugenia shivered and shook, sure her gooseflesh had gooseflesh. It had seemed as though she’d sat in the cooling water forever. Despite what she’d thought had been a wonderful time last night, actually making love, not merely duty, today all her dreams had vanished like mist at sunrise.

  Devon had been gone most of the day and then had left her as soon as they’d arrived at the Bennington rout. She couldn’t help but wonder if he’d used that opportunity to speak with the various women she’d seen casting him sultry looks.

  In desperation at that possibility, all she could think about was getting him back into her bedchamber with hopes for a repeat of the prior night’s activities. She’d sent Sally on her way with assurances that she could very well finish her bath alone.

  Then it had seemed to take Jake forever to finish up with Devon’s nightly ministrations. All the while, she’d languished in the ever-growing-cold water.

  Finally, spurred into motion, Devon strode across the room to fetch the towels. As a gentleman, he averted his head—drat—and covered her with the towel before ass
isting her out of her bath.

  She couldn’t help trembling as he ran the towel over her body. His hands seemed to linger at certain spots, the heat from his palms seeping through the cloth, almost singeing her skin. But he continued to keep his eyes averted as he finished the drying and snagged the nightgown Sally had left on the bed. Tempted to kick him in the shin to gain his attention, instead she allowed him to drop the garment over her head.

  “Thank you. I was growing quite cold.”

  Devon walked to the fireplace. “I will add more coal to the fire, which should warm you up.”

  Having your arms around me would warm me quite nicely.

  She sighed, again frustrated at how “ladies” were not permitted to show any interest in the marriage bed. How freeing it would be to walk up to her husband, wrap her arms around his neck, and pull him in for a kiss. Her stomach fluttered at the thought of his reaction.

  What would her mother say?

  He knelt in front of the fireplace, the banyan he wore stretched across his bottom. A hard muscular bottom she wanted to run her palms over. Her hands itched with the memory of how solid he’d felt beneath her hands, how all the corded sinew had fascinated her so. “Perhaps a touch of brandy would help warm me up, also.”

  Devon rose and dusted his hands. “Indeed? I do have a bottle in my room.” He strode across the space, the front of his banyan parting as he walked, revealing strong, powerful legs with a sprinkling of dark hair on them.

  Eugenia lost her breath.

  He returned with the bottle and two glasses, and proceeded to pour an inch into her glass and two into his. She took the drink from him and sipped. “Yes. This will work well to warm me up.”

  They settled side by side on the settee he had moved in front of the fireplace. Slowly, Eugenia began pulling the pins from her hair. Each one she took out loosened another cluster of curls. Knowing she had his attention, although he was trying very hard to ignore her, she continued on until the last curl fell. Then she shook her head, the hair floating around her shoulders and settling there.

  Devon reached out and took a lock between his fingers, rubbing it gently. “You have delightful hair, Eugenia.”