Miss Foster’s Folly (12 page)

“No, though you may have rendered me unconscious.”

“I did nothing to you except for a few kisses,” she said.

He groaned. “I’ll explain some other time.”

Another time. There would be other times. Finally, she found the strength to stroke his head. She even found his face and ran her hand over his stubble of beard.

He caught her hand, kissed her fingers, and then lifted himself to scramble up beside her. When he pulled her into his arms, she pressed her face into his chest and kissed the closest bit of skin she could find. They lay together that way as his heart beat just below her ear and his fingers made lazy circles over her back. The hardness that had pressed against her belly before had disappeared. Just as well, as she didn’t have the energy to entertain his cock any longer.

“You mustn’t crawl into a man’s bed any more,” he said.

“Not even yours?”

“Oh, Juliet—”

“I’ll take that as permission,” she said.

“You’re incorrigible.”

“Determined.”

He kissed the top of her head. “There are no real words for you, Juliet Foster.”

She stretched and yawned. What heaven it was to lie, sated, in his arms. It was almost enough…almost…to convince her she ought to marry him, after all.

“Oh, no,” he said. “Don’t you dare fall asleep.”

“I was just resting my eyes.”

“Rest them in your own room,” he said. “You have to go back.”

“Would it be so terrible if I spent the rest of the night here?”

“And have my valet find you in the morning?”

“Oh.” She could make some clever remark that his manservant must have found other women in his bed, but thinking about that could sour the mood. Besides, she didn’t have any clothes to cover herself if a strange man entered.

“All right.” She pushed out of his embrace and sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. One of her hands rested on a wet spot. He’d spent, too.

“Run along now. You need your sleep,” he said. “Tomorrow, we’ll need to puzzle out how to get you home.”

***

“She’s won, James.”

His valet set the tray with his coffee on the bedside table and straightened. “My lord?”

“Miss Foster. She’s won.”

James poured him a cup and held it out. “As you say, sir.”

He pushed himself up to lean against the headboard and took the cup. “She visited me last night.”

“She did?”

“After everyone had gone to bed. She woke Tim to let her in. She was in disguise.”

“Good Lord.”

“There’s worse. She’s still here.” Unless the idiotic woman had tried getting back to Mitford’s in the daylight dressed as she’d been when she’d arrived. No, even she wouldn’t do that.

“So, that’s what has Mr. Russell in an understated uproar,” James said. “A maid must have found her and told him.”

“I’m sure he’s having a butlery fit.” He took a sip of his coffee. It was dark and rich and more bracing than tea. A handy habit he’d picked up in the United States. “It can’t be helped.”

“Why would she come here so late at night?” James asked.

“To seduce me.”

“Flattering,” James said. “No woman’s ever done that for me.”

“Nor for me. Until now.”

James smiled and moved away to start his morning business of preparing Derrington’s clothing for the day.

“I didn’t do it,” Derrington said.

“My lord?”

“I didn’t frig her.”

“None of my business, sir.” James handed him his robe and went back to his work.

“Not even when she sneaked into my bed as I slept.”

James paused in the act of swirling his shaving brush against the soap. “She did that?”

“Naked. I should have worn a night shirt.” He set aside his cup and shrugged quickly into his robe. “On the other hand, that wouldn’t have saved me.”

“But you said you didn’t commit the act with her,” James said. “So she didn’t win.”

“But she did. The next time I touch her, I won’t be able to stop myself, and I’m sure to touch her.”

“If you don’t mind my saying, sir…”

“Please. I’d appreciate any suggestion.” He rose long enough to pull the robe around him and tie the belt.

“Well, she’s an innocent, but hardly a young one,” James said.

“Over thirty.”

“She’s not planning to marry, is she?”

“She’s not planning to marry me,” he said. “She’s made that clear.”

“But, she does want you to…”

“Tumble her.” Lord, how she responded to his touch. Every time he kissed her, she melted against him. A touch to her breast made her cunny moisten for him. And her climax. She did that with her entire body. So powerfully he’d come right after.

“Clearly, you want her,” James said.

He didn’t answer but merely groaned in frustration.

“Then why don’t you just do it, my lord?” James said. “You can find some other way to convince her to marry you.”

“It’s more complicated than that, I’m afraid. Blandings overheard a conversation. As soon as she’s had me, she plans to run away to Paris.”

“Why would she do that?”

“She has some idiotic idea of becoming a wanton and sampling men from all over the Continent.”

James’ brow furrowed. “Really?”

“Really. The moment I give in to her, I lose her.”

“A sticky problem.”

“Give me a shave, will you?”

James moved a chair to the center of the room. “Of course.”

Derrington sat. He could shave himself, but James did it well and seemed to have his best ideas with a razor in his hand.

James placed towels strategically around his neck and proceeded to lather his jaw and face. “Have you thought of finding another wife, my lord?”

“I should. This one could prove more trouble than she’s worth.” The problem was, did he really understand her worth? She measured up in every way. Smart, energetic, more amusing than any other woman he’d ever met. Spirited in bed. When he finally did bed her, and he would, she’d likely turn his life upside-down. If that happened, no other woman would ever tempt him.

He lifted his chin so that James could lather his neck. “No, I won’t marry anyone else.”

“Do you think your grandmother will approve of her?”

“Absolutely. She might have been made to order for Harry.”

“Aside from her height, she does remind me of Lady Harriet.” James picked up the razor and carefully scraped it over Derrington’s cheek. “And I understand she made your grandfather very happy, if it’s not out of my place to say so, sir.”

“Right you are.” The two of them had adored each other, although they hadn’t always done it quietly. The occasional arguments and flying crockery had upset him as a child until Harry had reassured him passion took all forms. He’d thought he understood that, but before Miss Foster, he hadn’t, really. Curse him, why couldn’t he be like his father and want nothing more than a docile mate who’d give him an heir and never assert herself afterwards?

James tilted Derrington’s head back so he could shave beneath his chin. “If I may be so bold, I’ve never seen you like this about a woman,”

“And how do I seem?”

James finished with his neck and released his head. “Smitten, my lord.”

“Right you are again. It had to happen some time, I suppose.”

“So you really don’t want to lose Miss Foster.”

“Really.”

“Then we’ll have to think of some way you can have her and then convince her not to leave.”

Derrington took James’s wrist and pushed his hand, and the razor, away from his face. “By God, I think you’re onto something.”

“I am?”

“It’s so simple. I should have thought of it myself. I only need to keep her from wanting to leave me.”

“How could you do that?” James said.

He tapped his lips as his mind raced. “What if I took her someplace so romantic she wanted to stay?”

“Derrington Manor would suit for that, wouldn’t it?” James said.

“It certainly would. I could take her there and sweep her off her feet completely. That would work.” He shot out of his chair and paced a bit. “I could tell her that I want to take her to my ancestral home for her first taste of real sex.”

He thought for another moment. Given her stubborn nature, the project would take some time, and he’d have to insure that she didn’t run away the first moment after they’d made love. “If she still persisted in trying to run to the Continent, how could I keep the villagers from helping her?”

“Hmm.” James rubbed his chin with his free hand, not the one holding the razor. “Tell them she’s a long-lost relative who’s not right in her head. They’d return her to you. It is a lovely place, sir.”

“And full of nude statues, thanks to Harry. She’d love it.” He paced some more. “And then, when she wants to leave, I’ll tell her she had to give me more time to woo her.”

“Excellent plan, sir.”

“I’ll take her there, show her every pleasure of the marriage bed, and keep her until she’s agreed to be my wife.”

A scratch came at the door.

“Enter,” Derrington called.

Russell did so and stood just inside the room. Nothing cracked the man’s cool reserve, and to look at him now, a stranger would think him the picture of tight control. But his hair was mussed, as if he’d run his fingers through it. Honestly, Derrington had never seen his butler so upset.

“There’s a young lady downstairs, my lord.” Russell put enough emphasis on “young lady” to signal true alarm to anyone who knew him.

“Is she dressed decently?”

That question seemed to hit him like a blow. He actually recoiled. “Why, yes, sir.”

Not Juliet Foster, then. “Does she have red hair?”

“Very red, sir.”

Miss Rhodes. He should have guessed. “Tell her I’ll be down shortly.”

“Very good, sir.” Russell turned on his heel and left.

“I’ll finish shaving you,” James offered.

“No time for that.” He used the towels to wipe the rest of the lather from his face. “I’ll put on some trousers under my robe. I won’t let her collect Miss Foster and leave before I can talk to her.”

***

Millicent Rhodes stood in the foyer, a large parcel in her hand. She looked perfectly shocked at his appearance as he guided her into his study. In fact, she appeared ready to bolt at the slightest noise. He pointedly left the door open so that she couldn’t mistake his intentions as seduction.

He indicated an arm chair. “Have a seat.”

“I’d rather stand, if you don’t mind.”

“Suit yourself. Cook will serve breakfast soon. You’re welcome to join me.”

“Is Juliet here?”

“Miss Foster? Why do you ask?”

She hesitated, nibbling at her lip and casting glances at the doorway. After a bit, she squared her shoulders. “Because she left a note in my bedroom that I was to come here and bring her a dress.”

“So, did you know she was planning a midnight rendezvous with me last night?”

“I knew she was going to do something, but she didn’t tell me what,” she said.

“She came here pretending to be a beggar. She convinced one of my footmen to let her in.”

Miss Rhodes managed to look shocked and bereft all at once. “I’m very sorry, your lordship. She’s…that is…I have no…she’s…well…”

“Nicely put. My sentiments exactly.” He said. “Oh, do sit down. Please.”

She did, finally, in an armchair and set the parcel in her lap. “She means well. She’s just headstrong.”

The words tugged at a very old memory. Perhaps as far back as his childhood. They might have been applied to him, but few people ever described him as meaning well. No, he’d heard those words to describe someone else. If only he could remember whom.

“Lord Derrington?”

He shook himself free of the images and found Miss Rhodes studying him, a puzzled look on her face.

He took a seat on a chair opposite her. Not too close, but not too far away. “I’d like your help. In fact, I’ll beg for it if necessary.”

Her curiosity turned to outright surprise. “What could you need from me?”

“Understanding. I need to know what makes Juliet the way she is.”

Her eyes flew open wide, probably at the familiarity he used to refer to her friend.

“You needn’t look shocked,” he said. “When a woman creeps into my bed, naked, I’ll take the liberty of using her given name.”

She gasped—loudly—and then covered her mouth with her fingers. “She did that?”

“Don’t swoon. Nothing happened.” Not true. Something certainly
had
happened. “That is to say, I didn’t…we didn’t…at least, not completely.”

“What was she thinking?”

“Seduction, and I deserve a knighthood for resisting.”

“Oh, Juliet,” she moaned. “I had no idea she’d planned anything like that.”

“Why would she do such a thing? She doesn’t have to trick me into making love to her. I’ve asked her to marry me. Numerous times.”

“That’s your big mistake,” she answered.

Now, it was his turn to stare at her in wonderment. “What in blood—heaven’s name does that mean?”

“Men have been proposing to her her entire life,” Miss Rhodes said. “A quick proposal of marriage is the fastest way to convince her that you don’t care about her.”

“I beg your pardon.”

“She assumes you want her money, and up until now, she’s been right every time.”

“That’s ridiculous.” He rose, went to the fireplace, and rested an elbow on the mantel. “I have enough money of my own.”

“In Juliet’s circle, there is no such thing as enough money.”

He threw his hand up in a gesture of pure frustration. “So, she’d doom herself to a life alone for fear a man might disappoint her?”

“It’s more complicated than that.”

He sat again, leaning toward her. “I’m listening.”

She sighed. “She wouldn’t want me talking to you about her.”

He took her hands in his. Let her flinch if she wanted. “Miss Rhodes, I’m at the end of my tether.”

She pulled her hands back. “You really do care for her, don’t you?”

“Would I be sitting here begging a near stranger for help if I didn’t?”

“All right.” She sat for a moment in thought. “You need to understand her family. Her mother loved the children very much, but she died when Juliet was quite young.”

Much the same as what James had learned in his investigations. “She grew up without feminine guidance, I gather.”