A Gentleman and a Scoundrel (The Regency Gentlemen Series) (18 page)

“You made me feel like one of those women who…who…seduce men,” she said haltingly.

He bit his lip. “I’m sorry. Forgive me.”

“You might not have taken my innocence from me, but you took my trust. I trusted you completely and you abused it.”

“I’m truly sorry,” he whispered, leaning forward in his seat. “I was angry and hurt.”

“So you set out to punish me by making me feel like a…a…trollop?” she demanded, turning her wounded eyes upon him. “You made me ashamed to feel desire and ashamed of my wish to be desired. You made me feel embarrassed to have a woman’s natural feelings. You set out to punish me and you succeeded well in your aim, for no other man could shame me as you have.”

There was a painful silence.

“Please, Louisa, tell me I am forgiven,” he begged, his dark eyes intent upon her face.

“Never,” she said, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I never want to see you again.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do. I do mean it.”

“But you can’t. I love you.”

She was startled. Her eyes flew to his in shock. “I beg your pardon?”

“I love you to distraction. You know I do.”

She stared at him, completely in a daze, her mouth unable to speak the words to express her amazement.

“When Sophie married Henry Trent, against your father’s wishes, against our families’ expectations,” he continued, “I could hardly believe my luck. Suddenly I had become free of my obligations. Suddenly I was free to choose the woman I wanted. I knew that I had an opportunity to finally make you mine after all these years.”

“I don’t believe you,” she whispered.

“Don’t you?” he asked with a doubtful smile. “Are you still so naïve, my sweet Louisa? Can you not see what everyone else has known for years?”

She gaped at him. “Is it true?”

“You know it is. Why else do you think you have you always been able to run rings around me?”

“But you hardly ever noticed me,” she blurted.

He shook his head. “Not true.”

“You tell me to sit up straight and tidy my hair and not to slouch. You criticised me just at those moments when all I wanted was for you to notice me.”

He smiled ruefully. “I was trying to convince myself that you were nothing more to me than a younger sister. Sadly, I failed miserably in my aim and I couldn’t help but admit to myself that I wanted you by my side for the rest of my life.”

“Malvern, truly, do not jest with me―”

“This is no jest.”

“But you think me naive and immature.”

“I think you adorable.”

She gaped at him. “But I am not clever at all.”

“You do yourself a disservice by pretending to be only interested in shopping and Gothic novels but I know you better than that.”

“But I
am
interested in them,” she admitted.

“I know you are. And so am I. But there is much more to both of us than our public personas suggest.”

“But…but you can have anyone you want…and you want me?”

He nodded, smiling tenderly at her. “I have wanted you for years; since the night of your first ball, do you remember? You wore a white gown and blue ribbons in your hair and you looked like an angel sent from heaven. You were so damned beautiful and I could hardly believe that the girl I had known all my life had blossomed into such a bewitching creature. I ached to hold you. I don’t think you ever realised what you did to me, how when you smiled at me, my heart skipped a beat. I don’t think it entered your mind that I longed to take you into my arms and kiss you and claim you as my own. But you did not notice me. You were the belle of the season, the new
Incomparable
and you had all of London at your feet. I was nothing more to you than your big brother, to escort you and defend you against your unwanted beau. You gave your hand to me in some dance or other, and I could hardly speak for the pleasure of touching you, however innocently. Every touch of your hand on mine, every time our eyes met as you danced in my arms, I became more deeply ensnared. Every time you looked at me, or rather look
through
me as if I was part of the furniture, was torture.” He laughed, but it was a bitter sound. “Had you no notion? Are you really so blind, Louisa?”

“You’re in love with me?” she breathed.

He leaned forward, his earnest eyes upon her face. “Completely. Desperately.”

“Oh,” she said faintly, trying to assimilate this newfound knowledge.

“So…am I forgiven?” he asked softly.

A reluctant smile tugged at her mouth. “No.”

“Not even a little bit?” he coaxed.

She blushed coyly. “Not even the tiniest bit.”

“Oh dear,” he said, forlorn.

Her lips twitched. “What are you to do?”

“Well, there’s nothing for it then,” he responded. “The situation is desperate.”

“Most desperate,” she agreed.

The Duke sat perfectly still for a moment, and then he reached up and rapped on the roof of the carriage. The driver, taking this as a signal for departure, flicked his reins, the horses sprang into action and the equipage moved forward.

She turned her laughing eyes on him. “What are you doing?”

He shrugged, leaning against the squabs of the carriage with nonchalant ease. “Abducting you.”

She gasped, half laughing. “Malvern, you do not mean it. Take me back this minute.”

“Certainly I mean it,” he replied coolly.

“But where are you taking me?”

“I have absolutely no idea,” he admitted with bruising frankness.

“You are jesting with me. You would never behave so improperly.”

“I have turned over a new leaf. I have been advised that being a gentleman is not going to win me your heart. Women apparently prefer a scoundrel to a gentleman. Therefore, I have decided to become a scoundrel…well, for as long as I can keep up the pretence at any rate. Come here.”

“Malvern, please, take me back,” she said.

“I mean to start my new scandalous life by seducing you in this carriage―behaviour which I have to admit I have indulged in once before but a lifetime ago when I was eighteen, and I was rather foxed at the time. I think we may manage if you hitch up your skirts and straddle me.”

“Malvern, pray be serious.”

“I am being serious,” he said as his dark eyes held hers. “Come here,” he said again softly.

“Jasper, behave yourself.”

“I want to touch you.”

Her face flamed. “We can’t.”

“We can and we will. I have wanted to touch you for a very long time. But a gentleman, my love, does not admit to such base thoughts. A
scoundrel
though…a scoundrel is something different entirely.”

With these words, he moved across the carriage to her seat, positioning himself so that his thigh was intimately resting against hers.

Louisa turned her face away, hardly knowing where to look.

“Look at me,” he commanded.

She shook her head. His close proximity was stifling, the heat of him, the size of him made her feel small and vulnerable.

He laughed softly and put one finger under her chin, turning her face back towards him.

“Please Malvern,” she begged.

“Are you so frightened of me?” he asked, gently pulling the reticule from her hands.

“No―no,” she stammered.

“I’m very glad to hear it,” he murmured as he slipped one arm around her waist and drew her against him. “Now tell me, sweet Louisa, have you been able to put me out of your mind?”

“Easily,” she answered.

He raised an amused brow. “Truly? And you haven’t lain awake imagining me doing this?” he asked as he leaned forward and kissed her throat above the tight buttoned spencer she wore.

“Not in the least,” she replied.

“No?” he murmured, “then how about this?”

Louisa closed her eyes as his lips travelled up her neck to a highly sensitive spot under her left ear. She shivered with pleasure as a tingle of excitement rippled through her. “You overrate your attractions, my lord Duke,” she said but rather breathlessly.

“Do I?” he whispered. “Shall we put your theory to the test?”

“No,” she returned, her voice no louder than his. “I don’t wish to feel like that again.”

“Like what?” he murmured.

“Hot…and tingly and aching in places I thought I could not ache…and…”

His lips twitched. “Frustrated?” he suggested.

She reddened. “Yes. You walked away and left me…” she said, staring at her hands, “like…like
that
…when I was so…so desperate for the end that I wanted to scream.”

The Duke wanted to smile at the admission but did not. “My poor darling,” he said soothingly.

“You knew it, too, and you left me―oh…
what
did you call me?”

“My darling,” he repeated, “for that is what you are; my precious darling girl.”

“Oh,” she said, blinking.

“And if you marry me, I’ll take you to the end, over and over again. I’ll show you what’s there, I promise. And it will be wonderful.”

“You called me your darling,” she said in wonder.

He laughed softly and pulled her onto his lap and into his arms.

“Jasper!” she cried, outraged at this behaviour and blushed rosily.

“Yes, my love?” he replied setting her weight on his thighs and wrapping his arms around her.

“You…you are not seriously going to become a scoundrel are you?”

“Why?” he asked, gazing fondly down at her. “Do you not think such a role would suit me?”

“Not in the least,” she said, laying her head against his shoulder.

“Oh well that is disappointing to be sure. Just when I had begun to think I might like it
very
much indeed; seducing beautiful women has a certain appeal, you know.”

“But I don’t want the scoundrel,” she whispered, her lips inches from his jaw.

He froze in mock horror, his eyes fixed upon her face and a smile tugging at his mouth. “You
don’t
want the scoundrel?”

She shook her head.

“You want the dull, staid Malvern who bores you to death with talking of architecture and fossils and burial mounds? The amiable gentleman who would much rather take your virginity in wedlock in a comfortable bed than a draughty carriage―?”

She silenced him with her mouth, locking her eager lips to his, finally tired of the game they were playing. Malvern was a most eager recipient of her kisses and a moment later, all pretence and humour was gone and he gave himself up to the joy of having her in his arms once again.

Malvern lifted his head and took her face tenderly in his hands. “Is it true?” he asked as his eyes searched her face.

She nodded eagerly.

“Then tell me. I want to hear you say it,” he whispered hoarsely.

“I love you—” she broke off as he kissed her again, crushing her to him, his arms holding her as if he would never let her go.

“I’m so sorry for all those things I said,” she said when she was able.

“Hush now, they don’t matter anymore,” he said as he smoothed her hair away from her face.

“I have made such a mull of it all.”

“Yes, darling, you have,” he agreed, kissing her once again.

“Jasper!” she cried.