The Danger in Tempting an Earl Page 2

  “It’s just as well, really, since I’m happy to remain at Cresthaven a while longer. Especially since I would otherwise have to share the dowager house with my mother-in-law until other arrangements are made. She and I never did get along very well.”

  “I can’t imagine why,” Lucien muttered. In spite of the darkness, he knew that Katherine was scowling at him. He decided to lift her spirits a bit. “But Mr. Langdon, or rather the new Lord Crossby, isn’t married as far as I know. I’m sure he’ll allow you to remain at the manor.”

  “Perhaps, though I must confess I’m not entirely sure I wouldn’t prefer his mother.”

  Lucien couldn’t help but laugh. “I never thought I’d admit to missing the intrigues of the ton, but I find myself looking forward to watching you take on the dowager viscountess and an irresponsible heir with great anticipation. I wonder who will win.”

  “You’re a beast,” she said, but there was a lighter tone to her voice than there had been earlier.

  “Frankly, my money’s on you. You’re tougher than you look.”

  It sounded as if she responded with “You’ve no idea,” but he couldn’t be sure, as she quickly followed the remark with, “In any event, my aunt has offered me a position as her companion, so I doubt I’ll have to worry about my living arrangements much longer.”

  Lucien frowned. He’d have to dissuade her from throwing her life away on such an endeavor, but before he had a chance to comment, the carriage came to a swaying stop. A moment later the door was opened by a footman, and Lucien climbed out. He turned to offer Katherine his hand.

  The vision she presented was almost otherworldly as her head emerged from the dark interior of the carriage and came aglow with the hazy light from nearby torches lining the driveway. The hood of her cloak was only partially drawn up, affording him a glimpse of her rich, chestnut-colored hair, which was undoubtedly set in one of those complicated coiffures that baffled most gentlemen.

  With her hand resting gently upon his arm, Lucien guided Katherine up the front steps of Kingsborough Hall, where two more footmen stood, ready to relieve them of their outdoor garments. Plucking his hat from the top of his head, Lucien handed it to one of them, the action forcing him to remove his attention momentarily from Katherine as he did so. He then unbuttoned his greatcoat and was just about to hand that over as well when he happened to glance in Katherine’s direction. He froze.

  Dear merciful Lord in heaven!

  He remembered her having a lovely figure, but either his memory had done her a great disser­vice, or she’d matured dramatically over the past four years. She was turned slightly away from him as she handed her cloak to the other footman, affording Lucien a private moment in which to admire her. The gown she wore had to be of silk, for it was so soft and slippery-looking that he could barely resist the urge to reach out and run his fingers over the fabric. Bright and dazzling, hundreds of beads shimmered upon the bodice. And it was white, of all colors, which was remarkably unusual for a widow. He liked it, though—­the allusion to innocence . . . a new beginning.

  “Your coat, my lord?” the footman said, reminding Lucien of both time and place.

  Handing over the garment, he turned to Katherine. “Are you ready to join the receiving line?” he asked, offering her his arm once more while attempting the blandest expression he could muster.

  She accepted with a slight nod, the corner of her mouth rising in a half smile as she placed her hand upon his arm, allowing him to guide her toward the long and ever-progressing line of titled ladies and gentlemen that was making its way toward the ballroom.

  Hoping to get back in her good graces, he decided that flattery might be a decent way to begin. Particularly since what he was about to say was utterly true. “May I say that you look absolutely stunning this evening?” Lucien offered as he lowered his head toward Katherine’s.

  Her smile was hesitant, but if he wasn’t mistaken, there was a bit of a glimmer about her eyes. “I see you’re just as adept at delivering compliments as always,” she said, following her statement with an almost shy “Thank you.”

  Lucien frowned. “I mean it, Katherine. You know I’ve always been honest in my praise.”

  “Yes, but that was when you didn’t have an agenda. Now, however, I believe you’re determined to gain my forgiveness by whatever means necessary.” Turning her gaze away from his, she looked toward the end of the receiving line. She smiled, but it seemed horribly forced—­like an artful façade intended to distract the viewer from what really lurched beneath the surface.

  “And what if I am?” he found himself saying, determined to bring her attention back to him so he could study her expression more closely.

  She did not disappoint, her face turning sharply toward him as her lips parted with what appeared to be genuine surprise, though only for a moment. For one fraction of a second, his comment had thrown her, but her smile was just as quickly returned to its rightful position, removing all trace of the truth he’d just been made privy to: she was afraid.

  Of what, exactly, he couldn’t even begin to imagine, but it was a startling moment for Lucien as he stood there gazing back into the depths of the dark green eyes that had haunted him during his travels. The Katherine he had once known had transformed drastically during his absence, and he was beginning to wonder if it might have something to do with Crossby. She’d never seemed very fond of him as a child, always trying to avoid joining her mother whenever she’d gone to Cresthaven on visits. In fact, Katherine had once remarked to Lucien that Crossby chilled her blood—­a peculiar observation for an eight-year-old to make, or perhaps very astute. But surely she must have laid these reservations to rest if she’d decided to marry the man. Knowing Katherine, and how romantic she was by nature, Crossby must have charmed her.

  None of it made any sense. Katherine had always been passionate by nature and so full of confidence—­traits that seemed lacking in the woman who stood before him now, though she put on a good show for appearance’s sake.

  He knew better, however.

  The girl he’d once known would have offered him a dazzling smile in response to his complimenting her appearance, for she’d been bold and brazen—­the outgoing sort with whom there had never been a dull moment. If charades had been suggested, she’d taken the lead, not caring how ridiculous she’d looked in the process, for as she’d said on more than one occasion, “I would rather make a cake of myself and share in everyone’s laughter than endure a somber existence.”

  That exuberance had vanished, though. It was even clear in the way she carried herself. As a debutante, she’d looked regal. Now she just looked as if she’d happily go unnoticed, though she ought to have selected a different gown if that were the case. A widow dressed in white was bound to stand out.

  “I like your gown,” he said, allowing his fingertips to brush against the edge of her capped sleeve.

  “Is it really all right?” She smoothed the fabric with her hands. “The modiste tried to convince me to choose another color—­something daring, but I have plenty of such gowns already, and found them all to be inappropriately bold this evening. Given my current situation, I’d hate to appear as though I’m deliberately inviting unsavory attention.”

  There was little Lucien could say in response, so he decided to just nod and keep quiet.

  “You always did have exquisite taste,” he eventually said. “A trait I believe you must have inherited from your mother. How is she doing these days, by the way?”

  “Very well, thank you,” Katherine said as they moved forward in the queue.

  “And your father?” Lucien asked.

  She hesitated for a moment before saying, “Also in the best of health.”

  Lucien frowned. “I’m pleased to hear it.”

  “My lord,” she said as they progressed another ­couple of steps, “I know what you’re doing and—­”
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  “And what would that be?” he asked, though there was no question she knew his game, even if he didn’t quite know it himself. She knew him better than anyone else and had always had the uncanny ability to pinpoint his motives even when he was unaware that he had any.

  She gave him a weak smile. “You’re dissembling and trying to distract me with conversation that you hope will put the past behind us and allow us to simply go on as if you never left.”

  “And is it working?” he asked as he secretly crossed his fingers—­not that he was superstitious or anything, but there was no harm in drawing on every bit of luck available to him. Lord knew he needed it.

  Katherine sighed and shook her head a little. “You know better than anyone that I’ve never been able to harbor resentment for any significant amount of time. If you must know, you were forgiven the moment you apologized to me in the carriage.” Lucien breathed a sigh of relief. “But that doesn’t mean that I don’t expect you to make it up to me.” Her expression was quite serious.

  “By taking you shopping,” he said, recalling her words from earlier. He shuddered at the thought of it.

  “Later,” she said. The corners of her lips edged upward, and a glint of merciless mischief sharpened her eyes. “For now, you may start by offering to dance with Lady Deerford, whom I believe will be present this evening.”

  Good God!

  “Kate,” he whispered so no one else would hear, “I’d be thrilled to invite you for a ride, perhaps even a picnic when the weather’s a bit warmer. Why, I’ll even accompany you to the modiste without complaint if that is what you truly desire, but to make me dance with the marchioness . . . you know as well as I that it will be near impossible for me to extricate myself from her again. Besides, I’d much rather keep your company for the duration of the evening.”

  She peered back at him from beneath her lashes as if trying to decipher his words, though Lucien doubted she would ever consider their true implication—­that what he longed for more than anything in the world was an excuse to be near her as much as possible.

  “Gracious, Lucien, you know as well as I that you cannot stay by my side all evening without inviting gossip. Besides, dancing with Lady Deerford would be such a kind gesture on your part.” Her eyes narrowed, and she looked at him very suspiciously. “If I were to make a guess, I’d say you’re up to something. What is it?”

  “Nothing.” He could hardly reveal the extent to which he craved her closeness after being away from her for so long.

  “Hmm. . . . Well, in any event, I will keep all your suggestions in mind for the future, since they all sound rather tempting. Besides, I doubt I’ll be able to fully forgive you after only one dance with Lady Deerford. No, it will take much more effort on your part to restore our friendship to what it once was, if that is indeed what you wish to do.” She tilted her head in his direction, and Lucien was finally allowed a glimpse of the woman who’d once been his closest friend and confidante. “For now, however, dancing with the marchioness will suffice.”

  Not to mention a shopping expedition, a ride, a picnic, and whatever else they’d discussed in less than five minutes. Well, Lucien demurred, at least he’d have ample opportunity to romance the lady now that she’d made herself so readily available to him. He hid a smile and wondered what she would say if she knew what he was contemplating, or that she’d just made his plan so much easier and less likely to seem suspicious. In all likelihood, she’d throttle him, and as much as he enjoyed envisioning such a scenario and where it might lead, he decided not to venture down that avenue for a while yet.

  Reaching the Kingsboroughs, Lucien greeted the dowager duchess with a low bow. “Good evening, Your Grace.”

  Katherine echoed his salutation as he raised the duchess’s hand to his lips and placed a kiss upon her gloved hand.

  “Lord Roxberry and Lady Crossby, how wonderful it is to see you both,” the duchess said once Lucien had straightened himself again. “I do hope that you will enjoy the festivities.”

  “I’m sure we shall,” Katherine said. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

  “And may I say that you look absolutely ravishing this evening, Lady Crossby,” the duke said, presenting Katherine with a slight bow. He turned his gaze on Lucien and smiled with pleasure. “I knew you’d eventually grow weary of traipsing across the Continent alone.” He held out his hand, which Lucien readily accepted in a firm shake. “It’s good to have you back.”

  After agreeing to tell the duke all about his travels at the first available opportunity, Lucien donned a black satin domino and escorted Katherine, whose face was now partially concealed behind a black-and-white mask, toward the glittering opulence of the Kingsborough ballroom, where, upon their announcement, all conversation ceased as every head in the room swiveled around to stare in their direction.

  Chapter 2

  “It appears your return has caused quite the sensation,” Katherine said.

  Lucien chuckled. “I doubt very much that their stunned silence is my doing, Kate.”

  “Another compliment?” she asked as his words slipped over her. He was being every bit the gentleman, yet with the realization that all eyes were indeed upon her, she suddenly wanted nothing more than to disappear into the nearest wall.

  “If you didn’t believe me earlier when I told you that you look stunning, you have no choice but to do so now,” he whispered.

  With her heart fluttering in her chest, Katherine attempted a smile, only to feel as if her face was made of plaster. Gripping Lucien’s arm a bit tighter, she steadied herself and took a deep breath. The last thing she wanted was to make a spectacle of herself by collapsing on the floor. No, that wouldn’t do at all. Yet there was no stopping her body from trembling as they made their descent toward the ballroom.

  “Are you all right?” Lucien quietly asked, his lips close to her ear.

  Katherine nodded. “Yes. Perfectly, though I must confess that I am finding it a bit hot in here.”

  “I can lead you straight through the crowd if you wish and out onto the terrace.”

  The thought of escape was tempting, but just as she was about to agree, she caught sight of her friend, the Duke of Kingsborough’s sister, Louise, who was presently approaching along with her husband, the Earl of Huntley.

  “I’m so happy that you were able to join us this evening, Katherine,” Louise said. She looked to Lucien. “You too, Roxberry. I’m sure you must have many exciting tales to tell us from your travels.”

  “Lady Huntley,” Lucien said, offering the countess a bow, “a pleasure as always. And I see you’ve brought me someone with whom to pass the time while you and Lady Crossby share the latest gossip.” He grinned toward Huntley.

  “I shall be more than happy to save you from having to participate in such inane conversation, Roxberry,” Huntley said. His face was serious, but there was a sparkle to his eyes that betrayed him.

  “At least our discussions generally arrive at a conclusion,” Louise said as she smiled lovingly at her husband. “The same cannot be said of your political ones, where nobody ever agrees with anyone and nothing is ever solved.”

  “And here I thought you weren’t paying attention,” Huntley muttered.

  Katherine did her best not to laugh at their little exchange, which resulted in a somewhat strangled sound. Lucien glanced her way with a knowing smile, to which she responded with a shrug.

  “In case you were unaware,” Louise continued, “there is a brain behind these lovely eyes of mine.” She batted her eyelids, while Lucien appeared on the verge of dissolving into a fit of laughter. Katherine didn’t feel as if she was faring much better. The Huntleys made a lovely ­couple, and the banter they so openly enjoyed in the company of others was always a source of great amusement—­something Katherine craved. It seemed like an eternity since she’d laughed with complete abandon.

  “Heav
en forbid I should ever forget it,” Huntley said as he reached for his wife’s hand and raised it to his lips, placing a kiss upon her knuckles. Their eyes met, and for the briefest of moments, Katherine felt as if she and Lucien had been completely forgotten by the ­couple. They clearly loved each other, and something inside Katherine twisted.

  “Shall we take a turn about the room then?” Louise asked, her question directed at Katherine.

  “With pleasure,” Katherine said. Stepping away from Lucien and linking her arm with Louise’s, she glanced up at him and smiled in an attempt to push aside the awful sensation that gripped her. She’d never been envious of anyone else in her life. Discovering that she was helplessly jealous of her friend was humiliating. “Don’t forget to dance with Lady Deerford,” she said.

  Lucien looked to Huntley. “I don’t suppose you’d care to help me flee.”

  “And risk Lady Crossby’s fury?” Huntley asked. He stepped back as if considering the possibility of leaving Lucien to deal with the lady in question on his own. “My good man, when a lady sets her heart on something, whether it be a bonnet or a boon from a gentleman, she will have her way sooner or later, and since that is the case, you would only be a fool for prolonging the issue.”

  “Is that so?” Lucien asked, eyeing Katherine.

  There was something curious about the way in which he was looking at her—­something that she was not at all familiar with. It unsettled her, and that in turn made her skin prickle and her stomach quiver in a most uncomfortable way.

  “I just adore the comparison you choose to draw between gentlemen and bonnets,” Louise said with a laugh directed at her husband as she drew Katherine away, removing them from Lucien’s and Huntley’s company. “My dear Katherine, you must tell me everything. I had no idea that you were planning to arrive here on Roxberry’s arm.” This last part was said in a low whisper so no one else would hear.