Page 42 of One Night of Temptation
A smile stole across Hugh’s lips as he recalled his own youth at Oxford. Yes, they’d all been struck by Cupid at some point, though it wasn’t the same as this. At least it didn’t feel the same. Perhaps he should consult Eastleigh, who’d fallen in love at Oxford for real. That woman was now his wife, and Hugh had married them.
“In any case, I hope you don’t think I’m being intrusive,” Tom said, setting the tray of cakes on the cupboard.
“Of course not. I appreciate your counsel. To answer your question, yes, I find myself in love with Lady Penelope.” He spoke carefully as he’d always done, but inside him, there was a storm of emotion, of yearning. “I can scarcely credit it since, as you correctly pointed out, we barely know each other. Yet, I feel as if I’ve known her a very long time and that our meeting was destined to occur. All I know is that since she went home, I can’t stop thinking about her, and last night when I learned she is betrothed to a loathsome man she doesn’t wish to marry, I nearly drove to her house and kidnapped her a second time.” He still wanted to do that.
“She wasn’t actually kidnapped—you prevented it,” Tom pointed out. He’d heard the entire story—well, almost the entire story—of that night. “What will you do?”
“I don’t know.”
“Can you go and propose?” Tom asked.
“I could, but since she’s already betrothed to an earl and I know it’s a marriage her parents want, I can’t imagine my suit would be welcome.”
Tom snorted. “Isn’t she of age?”
Hugh believed so, just as he suspected that her parents would fight her if she went against their wishes. Which brought him back to kidnapping…
He needed to think. “I’m going for a walk.”
An hour later, he found himself strolling in Hyde Park during the fashionable hour, hoping for a glimpse of his love. Fortune smiled on him again as he caught sight of her several yards ahead walking on the footpath alongside her mother.
His breath hitched. She wore a wide-brimmed bonnet with a pink ribbon tied smartly beneath her pert chin. Her gown was ivory with sprigs of pink flowers. A wide pink ribbon that matched the one beneath her chin encircled her rib cage beneath her breasts.
Why on earth was he thinking of her breasts in the middle of Hyde Park?
Because he wanted her—mind, body, soul. He wanted to claim her, possess her, shout to all of London and beyond that she belonged to him.
He had to stop staring at her, but he was rooted to the spot, transfixed. The sun beat down on him, heating his body to an uncomfortable degree. Maybe it was due to her—stirring his desire to an insupportable height. Just when he was about to turn away, her gaze locked with his. The connection sparked straight to his very core. He found himself walking toward her and didn’t think he could stop if the hounds of hell stood between them.
The marchioness greeted him with a smile. “Why, it’s Mr. Tarleton! How lovely to see you here today.”
He bowed to her and then to Pen. Her gaze lingered on his, but he had no idea what she was thinking. Was she even half as happy to see him as he was her?
“We can’t begin to thank you for rescuing our dear Penelope,” the marchioness said quietly. “She has the happiest news—she is to be wed to the Earl of Findon! You must join us for dinner tomorrow evening.” She glanced toward Pen. “Wouldn’t that be splendid, dear?”
“I couldn’t say.” It was a small act of resistance, but Hugh imagined it might be all she had.
“Nonsense, of course you can.” The marchioness let out a laugh that wasn’t remotely genuine. “Pardon my daughter. She is being shy, as she is wont to do.”
Shy? That wasn’t a word he’d attribute to Pen. Guarded, perhaps, but not shy. A shy woman would not employ drastic measures to change her future. He was only sorry her plan hadn’t succeeded. She had to be devastated. He longed to speak with her privately.
He didn’t, however, want to celebrate her betrothal to the earl. He didn’t even want to be in the same room with the man. Despite that, the chance for one more night with Pen—even a dinner amidst the Society Hugh disliked—was incredibly tempting.
“You must come,” the marchioness persisted. “Eight o’clock.”
Hugh wouldn’t come unless Pen wanted him to. He looked at her and saw a faint glimmer of something in her eyes. Hope surged in his chest. Even if she didn’t return his feelings and never would, he owed it to her to offer his help once more—if she wanted it.
He smiled at the marchioness. “Thank you for your kind invitation. I would be delighted to attend.” He bowed again, first to her and then to Pen. “I look forward to seeing you, Lady Penelope.”
She inclined her head. “I’m glad you will come,” she murmured.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Tarleton.” The marchioness ushered Pen past him.
Hugh pivoted to watch them go. What the hell had he just agreed to? He didn’t know the first thing about attending a Society dinner. He needed help.
Thankfully, he knew just where to get it.
Chapter 11
