Dangerous Beauty Page 17

  His attention was directed at the duchess, the corners of his mouth lifted in a smile that looked more like a smirk. The earring caught the light and her heart skittered alarmingly. She wanted this man with a desperation that frightened her. Hot resentment began to build in her breast, mixing with the excitement his proximity built in her, creating a volatile concoction that destroyed what little appetite she had left.

  Unbidden, memories of their earlier encounter came back to her, the way Seth’s mouth had slanted against hers—the taste of him, the sweet velvety smoothness of his tongue dancing with her own. And now he flattered the duchess to his right and refused to look at her. Then dessert arrived and Natasha realized with a thrill that in a few moments, the men would be withdrawing for their brandy and cigars, producing the perfect opportunity…

  She accepted the bowl of ice cream placed in front of her, to give her hands something to do. She didn’t like the cold dish, although ever since the man from America had introduced his new churn, it seemed that everyone was serving it. While she took tiny scoops with her little spoon, Natasha laid out her own battle strategy.

  As the dishes were cleared, the men all got to their feet and with gracious bows to their lady companions, stirred themselves into a hasty retreat to the smoking room. There they would remain for the rest of the evening to shout themselves silly over politics, horses and goodness knows what else.

  Natasha waited until she saw Seth rise, then waved to the footman standing behind her. He leapt to pull out her chair. She flicked her train out of the way and gave a big smile to the lady who had been sitting next to her deaf gentleman. “Please tell the waiter I will partake of tea, would you? I’ll return in a moment.”

  The woman nodded and turned back to her female friend. Natasha hurried around the table while trying to make it look like she was merely gliding elegantly along. She had to time this properly. It must look innocent. Seth was walking towards the door, alongside Dulsenay himself.

  The sea captain’s head was down, as if he were concentrating on what the lord was telling him. It would not work if Dulsenay stayed with Seth. She would have to speak to the lord first—he was of the higher rank. She would be caught up in formalities and nothing would stop Seth from simply stepping around her and continuing on his way.

  Natasha could feel her heart beating hard as she judged her pace. Almost there…and how to get Seth on his own? She nearly sighed with relief as someone called Dulsenay’s name and he halted, waving Seth to go on.

  She stepped in front of Seth as she came to the door. To anyone else watching it might look like she simply happened to reach the doorway at the same moment as Seth. He stood watching her—she could feel his gaze on her, almost as if the touch of it heated her flesh. She could feel herself beginning to shake with terror and excitement. So close…

  She held her hand out as a lady would upon first meeting a gentleman. “It’s Harrow, is it not? We met at the Sweet Pea Ball, but we haven’t been properly introduced yet.”

  His eyes narrowed. He made no move to take her offered hand, but instead seemed to draw back a little, as if she were poison to him. His chin lifted and settled squarely and he spoke loudly—no one in the room could possibly avoid hearing him, including the deaf gentleman who had sat on her left. “You presume far too much, Miss.”

  Stunned, Natasha felt her hand drop back to her side, as Seth stepped around her and left the room. White noise buzzed in her ears and her mind, blanketing the flurry of questions, muffling the bewildered cry building in her. She turned back to the table and saw that Piggot and her mother and father were all staring openly at her. Her mother’s face held fierce satisfaction, while both Piggot and her father’s were tight with fury. They had seen.

  They knew she had engineered the moment and had watched Seth dismiss her. And now they must surely see the depth of her dismay, for she was powerless to hide something that swept through her whole body, leaving her shaking. They had seen and noted. And they would now act to head off the threat that Seth represented to their plans.

  Chapter Twelve

  At breakfast, the next morning, Natasha learned that her parents and Piggot had not waited more than an hour to make their move against Seth.

  Natasha came to the breakfast table starving. She had eaten so little at the Dulsenay’s party that her body was rebelling now. She hastily donned a wrapper, her mind focused upon the need to eat soon.

  She sat at the big table and while the maid poured her a cup of tea, her father wiped his mouth with his napkin and cleared his throat. “Let me be first to congratulate you, my dear, on your engagement.”

  She stared at her father, trying to absorb his statement, as he tossed that morning’s Times in front of her plate. It landed as he had folded it, with the Public Announcements column face out. She could not fail to miss the item.

  PIGGOT — WINRIDGE were emblazoned in bold letters as the very first listing.

  She picked up the newspaper with a hand that trembled. The center of her chest was locked solid by an icy mass. A public announcement of her engagement to Sholto Piggot. Her father or Piggot must have hurried to the newspaper’s offices last night after the dinner, to place the announcement before the midnight deadline. Her engagement to Piggot was now known across all of London, which must surely be abuzz with the news.

  “You didn’t see fit to consult me on this matter?” she asked, looking up at her father. Tendrils of anger curled through her, around the hard knot in her chest.

  He smiled benevolently. “Your mother saw how eagerly you sought his company last night. When Sholto asked permission to marry you, I accepted for you on your behalf. I knew you would be pleased.”

  Checkmate. She could not now recant her false demeanor last night. She glanced at her mother and saw the fierce satisfaction in her eyes. Her mother had seen through her act—or had she only seen it once Natasha had betrayed her true feelings by seeking out Seth?

  She wanted to weep, but knew tears would be futile now. “You must put on your best gown,” her mother said and her victorious joy sang in her voice. “We are to be presented to the Duke today.”

  “You mean, his future daughter-in-law and her rich parents will be presented,” Natasha shot back. “Do not pretend this is anything other than what it really is, Mother. You sold me for a title.”

  Her father held up his hand as if he were about to appease her, but her mother stood up, her eyes glittering. “Very well, then,” she said, her voice low. “If you prefer the gloves off, we will deal at that level. Piggott is the son of a Duke and you have a chance to be a duchess. You have shown no inclination to do your duty by us and find a suitable husband and Piggot is eager to marry you. At your advanced age, such an offer cannot be refused, for no others will be made. We accepted because you would not. Piggott will marry you within the month.”

  “Marry my dowry, you mean,” Natasha returned. “He’s penniless. You’ll be supporting him the rest of your lives.”

  “That matters not at all.” Her mother dropped her folded napkin to the table. “Be ready by ten o’clock.” And she sailed from the room without a backwards glance.

  Natasha looked at her father, but he dropped his gaze from hers and tackled his breakfast platter as if his life depended upon his finishing the meal. He would offer her no support. Grimly, she began the task of preparing to meet her future father-in-law.

  * * * * *

  Seth bit back the anguished cry that seemed to want to explode from him and stared at the words on the page. The engagement of Sholto Piggot and Natasha Winridge was there in black and white, no matter how much he wanted to deny it.

  His fingers curled into a tight fist, crumpling the newspaper. He tossed the offending announcement aside. If only he had not rejected her last night…that was the only way her parents could have forced the issue. He knew in his bones that Natasha would not have allowed this if he had not publicly humiliated her.

  He leaned his forehead against his fists and
closed his eyes against the hot swirl of guilt and helplessness. His fault, it was all his fault. “It was for her protection,” he muttered. And now she was lost to him. The wife of a merchant, a man who didn’t deserve her in the least.

  He raked a hand through his already mussed hair, the action reminding him yet again that he’d drunk too much after leaving the party. His head throbbed, and his anger merely underscored it.

  Last night a bottle of brandy had been followed by a carafe of cheap wine purchased at the dockside pub he had adopted while the Artemis was in port. Harry had mysteriously appeared as he was finishing the wine and had helped him back to the Artemis.

  Once on board, he’d thought that finding a woman to see to his needs would help him forget the hurt he’d seen in Natasha’s face but the French whore who had sat on his lap and fondled him so intimately only made him think of Natasha’s innocent and trusting blue eyes.

  He’d dumped the whore on her bum and sent her scurrying from the ship, a silver coin in her hand. He’d found the ship’s medicinal whiskey bottle then and pulled the cork.

  He’d spend the rest of the night drinking away his unhappiness and the mess that was his life. Parents who disowned him, the woman he wanted denied him and a past he could not escape, no matter how much he tried.

  Now he would not have the chance to undo the damage. Natasha would marry Piggot, have his children and live a life of privilege.

  He drove his fingers into his hair, trying to massage away the ache and obliterate the knowledge that he had brought this all upon himself.

  “I see you’ve read the news.”

  Seth looked up with a start, to find Vaughn standing in the doorway of his cabin.

  Seth nodded, relieved to see his old friend. “Yes, I have.”

  Vaughn looked around the cabin, undoubtedly noticing the empty whiskey bottle and the upturned carafe. He took a step further into the cabin. He was impeccably and fashionably dressed, not a ruffle out of place and his presence in the little cabin made Seth notice the squalidness and his own unshaved, bleary-eyed state.

  “Maybe it’s for the best,” Seth muttered. “What sort of life could I offer a woman like that anyway?”

  “Have you forgotten your new ambitions so quickly?”

  Seth shook his head. “I dinna expect such…opposition. Even my father…” He gave a sniff. “Well, I know my place there. He wouldna lift a finger to help me. He let it happen to me, while he stood back and watched and it all happened because of him— yet he did nothing to help me then. He’ll do nothing now.”

  “So the only way you will get the recognition you need as the legitimate heir of the earldom is if you take it,” Vaughn pointed out.

  Seth was grateful he did not also point out that this was the fifth or sixth time he’d heard Seth vent his fury over his father’s duplicity. Vaughn was a good friend.

  “Take it?” Seth snorted. “I’d need an army at my back. These people…they are so…”

  “I know,” Vaughn agreed. “But the Seth I knew at Oxford…he did not buckle under at the first sign of resistance.”

  Seth lifted his head, stung by the gentle reprimand. “I never said I was giving up!”

  Vaughn smiled a little. “Then I misunderstood. My apologies.”

  Seth sat back in his chair and pushed the other one out from the table with his boot. “Ah, you’re a good man, Vaughn Wardell. Ye know very well I was swimming in my own melancholy.”

  Vaughn sat. “I know.”

  Seth took a deep breath and blew it out. “I just don’t know what to do next. She’s engaged to the fawning fop. And she only got engaged because I refused to acknowledge her last night.”

  “We both know you couldn’t afford to do that. Not publicly. Whoever the enemy is, they see everything, hear everything. Until you know who sits and rearranges people’s lives to suit his own ambitions, then no one should learn of her importance to you.”

  “Then I am truly lost.”

  “I said ‘publicly’. What goes on behind closed doors is a very different matter. You must let her know the truth of it, Seth. Tell her how you feel. Don’t let it go unsaid. Life is too short.”

  “Perhaps it would be better to leave London altogether.”

  Vaughn frowned. “She’s a strong woman, Seth. You do both of you a disservice by keeping quiet. What have you got to lose by telling her what’s in your heart?”

  * * * * *

  Two hours later, Seth stood in front of the Munroe’s house. He’d been there an hour already. He waited behind the yew hedge that fringed the park opposite the small, elegant townhouse, where he was hidden from most passersby and from any casual glance through the windows of the house he watched.

  He had not changed from his shipboard clothes. Nor had he shaved or arranged his hair, although he had washed his face, eaten as decent a breakfast as he could manage and drunk a quart of water to put out the fire from last night’s indulgences.

  The choice of clothing had been a deliberate attempt to mislead. He was sure that no one but Natasha would recognize him when he was not wearing the clothes and accoutrements of a lord.

  He wasn’t sure what he intended to do. Waiting here gave him a chance to examine the townhouse and the comings and goings there, while he formed a plan to somehow reach Natasha and let her know the truth. But he would have to contact her in such a way that her parents and the odious Sholto Piggot did not know of it. And that could prove to be the biggest challenge, for even last night he had observed how closely all three of them watched the wayward daughter. They’d not let her out of their sight even once.

  Fifteen minutes ago, a carriage had been brought around, signaling an outing, and Seth’s attention had lifted. This may present the opportunity he was looking for.

  The front door opened and he straightened, watching as Sholto Piggot emerged with Natasha. His heart gave a sharp tug. She was dressed in a light blue gown and looked shockingly pale. Sholto had her hand tucked well under his arm, and his own laid across her fingers. It was almost as if he was guarding against her trying to pull her hand away.

  The pair made their way down the stairs, followed by Lord Munroe and his wife and Seth’s gut tightened a little. All of them together. That would make things difficult. “Look at me, Natasha,” he said under his breath.

  * * * * *

  Natasha could feel her mind slipping into a misty sea, unconnected from everyday concerns. She no longer cared that Sholto Piggot would marry her. She didn’t care that her parents were fiercely determined to see this marriage through, even if she walked the aisle with their hands on her back.

  She cared for nothing and no one, including her own miserable future. It was easier not to care. Nothing she did or tried to do seemed to be able to change the course of her life by an inch, so there was no point in trying to change anything. If she allowed herself to think about the days and years ahead, she knew she would scream and scream and scream…

  It was easier to disengage, to let the world flow around her and on its way. When Piggot had arrived at the house, she had been listlessly waiting in the big armchair in the parlor. He had been nervously energetic, tripping over his own stammering tongue, flushed with the success of his engagement. His timidity would normally have made Natasha’s skin crawl, but she was numb to it all.

  She did not flinch as he slid an antique engagement ring on her finger. The old-fashioned filigree metal had been cold against her flesh, but she had barely noticed it.

  Now, her fingers were trapped under his sweaty palm, as he led her towards the family carriage. Her father stepped up to her side and caught her elbow in his hand. It felt like he was trying to ensure she didn’t bolt down the street, away from the carriage and her future. His fingers pinched as he tightened his grip.

  There wasn’t a lot of traffic on the street today. The only person nearby to witness her virtual abduction was a tramp behind the hedge across the road.

  He moved around the hedge, to come over
to the wrought iron fence. He gripped two of the sharp finials at the top of the fence, watching them as they moved to the carriage—perhaps even he could see that she was being forced into this?

  But she let her gaze drop back to her feet as inertia reasserted itself. A solitary tramp would not understand her dilemma and would not care if he did.

  Her father halted. “What the hell?” he breathed. The indignation and surprise in his voice caught her attention and she looked up.

  Her father was looking across the street, too. Staring at the tramp. Then he motioned towards the tramp with his head. “Jones, see him off. We don’t want him cluttering up the street.”

  “Yes, sir,” the butler said, letting go of the carriage door he had been holding open. He flicked his hand at the two manservants standing at the top of the steps and they hurried down to join the burley butler as he moved across the cobbled street.

  Natasha peered at the solitary man behind the fence, wondering what had offended her father.

  Then the tramp shifted his gaze to look at her directly. Sharp gray eyes pinned her to the pavement, the glittering gaze felt like an accusation.

  Seth. All the fogginess in her mind evaporated, like mist blown away by a fresh sea breeze. Her heart leapt high and hard. She felt her body stiffen to alertness, even as she blinked away the last of her inertia.

  Seth was here. Why? Why would he be here if he’d rejected her last night?

  The truth slammed through her, stealing her breath, in one dizzy heartbeat. She stared back at Seth, at his hands curled into fists around the pikes on the fence, his knuckles white. His eyes blazed.

  She understood then that his repudiation of her last night had been a ruse, that somehow, in some obscure way, he was protecting her. She didn’t fully understand how, but knowing he had not really rejected her was all she needed for now.

  How could she have been so blind? Relief and something akin to excitement rushed through her.