The Louise Allen Collection: The Viscount's Betrothal / The Society Catch. Louise Allen
She looked at him, her head slightly tipped to one side like a curious robin. ‘How?’
‘I saw your portrait at Lady Brotherton’s.’
‘Oh,’ she said again, dropping her gaze to her clasped hands. ‘Hideous, is it not?’
‘I thought it was sad that no one seemed capable of seeing your true beauty,’ he said gently, and was rewarded by a glowing look from her grey eyes.
‘Thank you. You seem to see something that other people do not, which is kind of you.’
‘I am not kind,’ he retorted roughly. ‘Why have you come?’ Damn it, Adam, why not show a complete lack of finesse while you’re about it?
‘Ah. Now that is difficult.’ Her gaze dropped again and the colour mounted in her cheeks. ‘It was hard to come and speak to you like this, I don’t deny it. Especially after all the things I said about marriage and matchmakers.’
Her colour was positively hectic now. With a visible effort she raised her eyes to his face and said, ‘You might not be…happy about what I have to say, but I think one should be…honest about…about love.’
Love? She was telling him she loved him? ‘Decima.’ He reached out and took her hands in his. ‘Decima, I think you had better say what you mean.’
‘This is very difficult. Has Bates said anything to you?’
‘Bates? Go away,’ he snapped at Dalrymple, who opened the door, a tray of refreshments neatly balanced on one gloved hand.
‘Very good, my lord.’ The butler executed a smart turn and removed himself.
‘What the hell has Bates got to do with anything?’ She was going to tell him she had fallen passionately for Bates, that was it. His life could hardly be in more of a mess.
‘It is Pru. I think she is in love with him. But you know what he’s like—so taciturn. I thought if you could drop a hint, let him know where she was to be found—then, if he was interested in her, he might make contact.’
‘I see,’ Adam said flatly, sitting back in his chair. ‘So this is all about Bates and Pru. You would not have come to find me if it had not been for that. Just how serious is it?’
He seemed to have flustered her. Good, Adam thought viciously, then hated himself.
‘Things apparently became quite…that is…I did worry at one point that she might be with child,’ Decima admitted, her high colour returning. ‘But fortunately not. But I have no idea if his affections are engaged, or simply his, er, physical reactions.’
Well, good for Bates, Adam thought bitterly. To manage a seduction with a broken leg argued a determination and aplomb he had been unaware of. In fact, he doubted he could have accomplished it himself. And the old devil had the nerve to lecture me about propriety!
‘By all means let us put ourselves about to secure the happiness of others,’ he said, hating the sarcastic edge to his voice. Decima looked bemused at his tone. Of course, he thought, she has no idea what I feel for her. How could she? She thinks she has had a salutary experience with a rake, that is all. ‘Are you sure it would not be—let me be sure I have the words right—a piece of meddling?’
‘Yes, I am sure,’ Decima snapped back, her understandable anger at his tone finally overcoming her good manners. ‘Pru wants to find out what he feels for her, that is all. He can choose to ignore the information if he so wishes—she has far too much pride to pursue him.’
She got to her feet in a swirl of skirts, so suddenly that he had to scramble to stand, too. ‘If you wish to have nothing to do with it, then I will go down to the mews and see him on the pretext of asking about Fox. You have absolutely no need to trouble yourself about the emotional well-being of your servants or mine, my lord. Good day to you.’
‘Decima.’ Adam managed to get between her and the door before she could swing it open and stalk out. ‘I beg your pardon. I was so taken aback at seeing you.’ Her eyebrows rose haughtily. ‘Yes, I know, that is no excuse. I feel guilty about how I behaved at my sister’s. I feel worse about what I said in your hearing. And I wanted to find you and could not and that hurt.’
‘So you were sulking?’ she suggested sweetly.
‘I do not—’ He met her eyes, saw the wicked glint in them and smiled ruefully. ‘Probably,’ he admitted. Now they were so close, the urge to take her in his arms again was a tangible force, as though someone was pushing him towards her. He knew how her skin would taste, how her mouth would feel under his, how her long, lovely body would fit and slide against his. He wanted to make love to her until she screamed his name and begged him never to stop. He wanted all the things he could not have.
‘Shall we go down to the mews, or would you like some refreshments first?’
‘Oh, the mews, please. Have you brought Fox up to town with you?’ She shot him a slanting, sideways look as he opened the door for her. ‘Will you still agree to put him to my mare, now we have made up our quarrel?’
‘Have we been quarrelling?’
‘Just a little bit, I think. Margery, come along, we are going down to the mews with his lordship.’ The maid, a quiet girl who had been sitting on a hard chair in the hall, stood and helped Decima into her pelisse, then curtsied to Adam. ‘I thought it better not to bring Pru,’ she confided quietly. ‘Now, if you wait until we are close to Bates before you ask me my direction, that should do it.’
Decima slipped her hand into the crook of Adam’s arm and let him guide her down the steps and along the pavement of Portman Square. Margery, borrowed from Lady Freshford, followed behind at a discreet distance like the well-trained attendant she was.
The luxury of being close to Adam, of touching him, made her pulse race. She tried not think about his kiss, but all the strange new feelings she had been suppressing flooded back to swamp her body. Her breathing was short, heat seemed to run up and down her body and an intimate pulse of arousal beat distractingly.
With him she felt different, strangely confident, able to show her real feelings whether they were shyness or anger. It was an intoxicating sensation, to be herself. And then she realised why he made her feel like this. With a dawning sense of wonder Decima turned her head to look at the strong profile of the man beside her. I love him.
Bates had Fox tied up outside and was grooming him as they walked into the mews yard. He straightened up and stared for a long moment, then put down his brushes and limped towards her, tugging off his hat. ‘Good day to you, Miss Decima, ma’am.’
‘Good day to you, Bates! And how is your leg? Still troubling you, I see.’ It made things easier, having to focus on someone else, to think about managing this carefully for Pru’s sake. Anything rather than think about the implications of what she had just discovered about herself.
‘Getting better, I thank you, ma’am. I expect I’ll be a bit of a Hopping Giles all my days, but it could be worse.’
‘His lordship and I did not make too bad a job of it, then?’
‘No, ma’am, and I’m powerful sorry my language wasn’t all it might have been either.’ He glanced behind her as he spoke and Decima watched his expression stiffen as he saw who was accompanying her. He had been expecting to see Pru and was disconcerted that she was not there. Good.
‘It was very educational, Bates,’ she said lightly, stepping past him to stroke Fox. ‘How’s my favourite boy, then?’ The stallion rewarded her with a gentle butt with his nose. Decima turned back to Adam. ‘We really must make arrangements for putting him to my mare, my lord. I will be staying in town for the Season and I will be in touch before I go back to Norfolk.’
She delved in her reticule and then produced a realistic smile of realisation. ‘Of course, I have no card with my London address. I am staying with Lady Freshford in Green Street. Number Eleven. Green Street.’
Adam