Page 19 of Society's Most Disreputable Gentleman

Several attractive young gentlemen had pursued her. She’d felt a flurry of excitement in the pit of her stomach when one particular man, a rogue with knowing eyes and a wicked smile, let his fingers linger just a bit longer than was proper on her waist and wrist when he helped her in or out of her carriage.

Mama would have been horrified had she ever learned, but she’d even let Lord J. of the dancing smile and roving hands walk her into her cousin’s garden and steal a kiss behind the rose arbour.

Like the scent of the autumn blooms that masked their intrigue, the kiss had begun as a sweet, light sensation. Then came the shock of a wet tongue brushing her lips, a firm hard hand stroking her breast.

Aghast, she’d broken away immediately and run from the garden…not sure whether it was the audacious Lord J. or her own response to him that had frightened her the most. She’d returned to Ashton Grove the next day, never able to decide whether she was glad or happy she wouldn’t see her rogue again.

She was honest enough to admit she’d be delighted to repeat the experience—with Mr Anders’s hand at her breast and Mr Anders’s tongue tasting her lips.

In fact, the thought of him doing so sent a veritable blast of sensation through her, making her nipples tingle and sending a rush of liquid heat between her thighs, far dwarfing in intensity the response she’d had to Lord J. that long-ago afternoon.

She drew in a shaky breath, not sure what had just happened. She only knew it was fortunate the rose garden at Ashton was now nothing but sad brown sticks stripped of foliage, awaiting spring.

As she and her desires must do. If she wanted to fulfil Mama’s dream of making an advantageous match, she couldn’t racket about Ashton Grove, kissing available men when the fancy struck her.

Even though the urging to do so had been stealing over her with increasing frequency ever since that interlude on the terrace, she thought—and realised she’d instinctively slid closer to him.

This would never do, she told herself, moving towards the outer rail of the gig and firmly yanking her thoughts away from his too-attractive torso.

Ah, yes, it was time to get herself wedded and bedded indeed!

Since Mr Anders was not a member of the political elite into which she aspired to wed—assuming wedlock was of any interest to him, which he’d given her no reason whatever to believe—she’d do better to turn her thoughts to someone who was…like Lord Trowbridge.

If what their neighbour said was true, here was a gentleman who seemed a perfect choice to make all her plans a reality.

Not that she doubted Mr William’s word, but he, like Papa, preferred to tend his acres and remain in country. He’d have no way of knowing whether Trowbridge’s attractive exterior was matched by an excellence of character worthy of his family’s position among the ton and his father’s prominence in government.

Lady Parnell would know. Amanda would just have to wait until London, where she could rely upon that lady to guide her choice. But in the interim, it wouldn’t hurt to get to know Trowbridge better. After finding a way to speak privately with Mr Anders, she would speak with Papa about arranging a dinner.

She squelched a frisson of unease at the little voice pointing out that, despite her appreciation for his many assets of family, title and position, she felt for him nothing like the strong, instinctive attraction that pulled her towards Mr Anders.

Stealing a few moments with her guest turned out to be easier to arrange than she’d hoped. By the time the gig turned into the entry gates at Ashton Grove, cloud banks had blown up, accompanied by a sharp wind that promised rain. Anxious to get in a ride before the weather turned, as soon as Mr Anders pulled the gig up before the entry Althea scrambled out and flew into the house. While Anders waited for the footman to assist Amanda down, in a voice she hoped sounded quite natural, she informed him she’d like to continue on to the stables, as she needed to speak with the head groom, and would like to claim his escort to the house afterwards.

He made no comment, only setting the horses back in motion, though she dared not sneak a glance at his expression.

It took only a few moments’ thought to come up with a topic to discuss with Jenkins. Though the head groom gave her an odd look when she enquired about the ordering of tack, a matter that was certainly not of sufficient urgency that she needed to seek him out this particular afternoon, thankfully he asked no awkward questions while Mr Anders stood by, waiting politely.

Then, finally the moment arrived. Heart hammering in nervous anticipation, she turned to Mr Anders, who offered her his arm. The jolt of sensation as she laid her hand upon it, for a moment, blew every other thought out of her head.

Obviously not as affected by the contact as she, Mr Anders was able to chat politely about their pleasant day’s outing, giving her time to recover.

Gathering up her scattered wits, she said, ‘I must offer my apologies for kidnapping you, but I needed to speak to you without Althea being present.’

‘You flatter me,’ he replied. Then, a naughty light gleaming in his eyes, he added, ‘Do with me what you will.’

Back into her head flew the image of kissing him behind the arbour, his mouth on hers, his tongue seeking…

Jerking her thoughts away, she said, ‘You may recall my father mentioning his concern about a rather ruthless group of smugglers who’ve moved in to challenge the local men. My brother George, after being sent down from Cambridge, asked and was refused Papa’s permission to await the beginning of his next term in London. I fear that, bored and resentful of being forced to remain far from his friends and amusements, he may have become involved. Confounding the revenuers and maybe earning himself a cut of the profits is just the sort of thing that would appeal to him.’

By the time she’d finished, the teasing light had gone out of his eyes. ‘What makes you think he might be involved?’

Quickly she described the many nights her brother had been absent and the mornings she’d caught him sneaking in, not always in his cups. To her dismay, rather than passing off her concern with a joke about hovering womenfolk and a recommendation that she loosen the young man’s leading strings, Mr Anders’s expression turned more serious.

‘He’s certainly been absenting himself during the hours that smugglers would be moving their cargoes. And both Lieutenant Belcher and Petty Officer Porter at the Coastal Brigade station mentioned there’d been a marked increase in tension lately between the local men and a group of newcomers for control of this stretch of coast. The Cornish group seems not at all averse to violence.’

His words confirmed her worst fears. ‘Did you learn anything more about the situation?’

‘Nothing specific. But Porter did say he thinks some sort of altercation might be imminent.’ Anders shook his head. ‘I wish I’d known of your concern before I reported in. Though I’m not due to return for more than a week, perhaps I will drive in sooner, see what else I can discover.’

‘I would be most grateful! And if you would, please don’t mention this to my cousin. She might be moved to try to investigate on her own, and she is as heedless of danger as my lackwit of a brother.’

‘Poor Miss Neville!’ he said with a sympathetic smile. ‘Yet more concerns to occupy you. No wonder you wish to escape to London.’

She flushed, feeling both ashamed and resentful. Was it so wrong that she wished to escape dealing with such a tangle of problems? ‘That makes me sound self-centred and frivolous.’

‘I meant nothing of sort!’ he protested. ‘Excuse me, but you seem far too young to have been saddled with the many responsibilities you must shoulder. And shoulder with excellence, I should add.’

Her resentment dissolved in a glow of pleasure at his compliment. ‘But here I am, selfishly chattering on about my own concerns. What of you? Did Lieutenant Belcher have any information about your situation?’

He grimaced. ‘Precious little. He wasn’t even aware that I’d be reporting. He’s going to send a note to the Admiralty, requesting their guidance.’ He grinned. ‘I’m afraid he didn’t think much of this former gentleman-turned-landsman. He made it quite clear he doesn’t want me involved in any of his patrol work.’

‘If there’s a confrontation in the offing, I should think he would want to muster every able-bodied hand.’

Too late, she caught the connection and could have bitten her tongue. He must have as well, for as he watched her face flame, a slow, teasing smile curved his lips.

‘I’m glad you think I’m…able-bodied,’ he said softly, his velvet voice rich with sensual undertones.

Oh, she did indeed! With his head tilted towards her, those arresting green eyes fixed on her face, his lips curved in a wicked smile, he was temptation incarnate. Her fingers itched to explore, from the broad shoulders down his chest to the trim waist…and lower. Lean up just a bit, rest her hand on his shoulder, and she might brush his mouth with her own…

Her pulse hammered and she jerked her gaze away. With a shuddering breath, she forced her feet back in motion. If this was how well she was going to resist the pesky attraction that kept pulling her to him, she’d better get back to the house, and quickly.

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