Читать книгу Silk And Seduction Bundle 2 - Louise Allen, Christine Merrill - Страница 11

Nothing on the stage could hold Imogen’s attention. There was far too much drama playing out right there in the darkened box.

After the initial shock of meeting her, the viscount recovered his customary aplomb remarkably swiftly, introducing her to his other guests—the men she now had no hope of marrying—as though nothing was amiss.

Only she noticed something odd in the way he did not give her full name, but instead presented her as ‘The sister of my good friend, Captain Alaric Bredon,’ before correctly introducing her aunt as Lady Callandar.

He did it to prevent them knowing Rick was related to the scandalous Miss Hebden, no doubt. And she was, reluctantly, grateful to him.

Though he was still furious with her. She could tell by the way the air between them seemed to positively thrum whenever she glanced his way.

When the curtain fell for the interval and everyone rose and began to chat to each other, he took the opportunity to draw her aside.

‘You will not say one word to your brother about what has passed between us,’ he bit out. ‘He has introduced you to me, in all good faith, believing you to be the innocent young creature who grew up with him in Staffordshire. He has no idea how much you have changed, and I have no intention of being the man to disabuse him.’

She felt an overwhelming sense of relief that he was going to put aside his desire for vengeance because of his friendship with Rick.

‘Thank you,’ she breathed. ‘I would not have Rick hurt for the world. Indeed, I would never have come tonight and put him in this situation, had I known that you were Monty.’ She took a good, long look at him then, riddled with confusion. She would never have guessed that Monty could be the same man as Viscount Mildenhall. The Monty Rick had written about had been dashing, courageous and honourable. Whatever could have happened, to turn him into this vain, rude, slimy…

His eyes narrowed under her scrutiny. She wondered if he could tell what she was thinking about him. But then he nodded and said, ‘I believe you. For my part, I never connected the sister Rick described to me with the Miss Hebden I know. Why is your name Hebden—’ he frowned ‘—and not Bredon?’

‘Because Rick’s father did not care to adopt me and give me his name.’ She stared past him, to where Rick was chatting happily with one of the other young men. Out of the corner of her eye she could see her aunt quizzing the other. ‘Well,’ she added bitterly, ‘I should think you can understand that. You, above all people, know the kind of things that are said about my parents.’

When they all took their seats again, after the interval was over, Imogen found to her dismay that she had been manoeuvred into a chair next to Viscount Mildenhall.

He ignored her for the entire second act with magnificent disdain. Every time she glanced up at him, his face was turned towards the stage, his whole demeanour indicating that the actors were far more interesting than the presumptuous female who had inveigled her way into his box.

While, to her growing annoyance, Imogen could think of nothing but him. Even though he was a despicable worm, being able to feel the heat of his body—so close to hers—and smell the indefinable scent of him made her whole being thrum with awareness. She could not stop thinking about the way his tongue had swept into her mouth, the way he had held her, dominated her. It made her stomach turn over and her heart speed up. When she knew a well-brought-up young lady would feel nothing but revulsion for a man who had treated her so insultingly, it was galling to admit that merely sitting next to him in the dark was making her hanker for more of the same.

She squirmed in her chair, a seething mass of insecurity and thwarted longing, counting the minutes until she could escape from the arrogant, handsome brute lounging in the chair next to hers. As soon as the last curtain came down, she leapt to her feet and made for the sanctuary of Rick’s side.

There was the inevitable hiatus before they could leave, during which Viscount Mildenhall came across to where she was standing clinging to Rick’s arm, and said, ‘I shall call to take you for a drive tomorrow, Miss Hebden.’

Imogen’s heart sank. The expression on his face was so forbidding she could see that while he tooled his vehicle round the park he fully intended to give her a stern lecture upon her manners and morals, before warning her to forget any notion she might have of marrying any of his friends!

But she would have to endure the scold, if that was what it took to get him to abandon any plans he had to ruin her socially. And it seemed, from what he had just said, that he might let her off the hook, for the sake of his friendship with Rick.

‘Very well,’ she said, lifting her chin defiantly. ‘I shall be ready.’

Rick looked at her quizzically while he escorted her down the stairs to the exit. ‘Is something wrong, Midge? Did you not hit it off with Monty? I must say, he seemed quite taken with you.’

Yes, the viscount was a consummate actor! She knew what he thought of her. He had made it quite plain. And yet tonight, with Rick watching, he had behaved like a perfect gentleman, according her consideration and courtesy. Even the way he had occasionally looked at her, with an intensity that made her feel like a specimen under a microscope, could be interpreted by others as genuine interest in her as a woman.

‘Did he?’ she managed airily. ‘I cannot think why. When he is so handsome I dare swear he could have any female for the crooking of his finger.’ She dived into the waiting coach with more haste than grace, and flung herself into the seat corner.

Rick poked his head through the open door. ‘But he is calling on you tomorrow…’

‘I am sure it is out of courtesy to you, Rick,’ she muttered, tossing her reticule onto the seat next to her, and bending to extricate the flounce of her skirt, which had caught in the heel of her shoe. ‘There is nothing about me that would attract a man like him.’

‘Oh, I would not be so sure,’ said Rick thoughtfully. ‘He said a lot of very complimentary things about you when I met him in Limmer’s last night. Said he felt as though he knew you well, through the letters you used to write me. Said any man would be lucky to get a girl like you for a wife. A girl with integrity and loyalty and…’

That had been before he found out her name was Hebden, though. She shook her head, saying firmly, ‘I am not at all the kind of girl a future earl ought to marry.’ As if to prove her point, the flounce parted from both her heel and the body of her skirt simultaneously.

‘Well, that was what I thought at first,’ Rick mused. ‘For he only said he was going to help you find a husband. But once he clapped eyes on you, he did not let any of the other fellows come near you!’

No, he had not. But it was not because he felt anything like admiration for her! With fingers that were shaking with chagrin, she tied the trailing length of lace into a knot so that it would not trip her up when she got out of the coach later.

‘You know, Midge,’ Rick persisted, ‘since your aunt has had the dressing of you—’ he ran his eyes down her slender frame ‘—you look far prettier than you used to.’

Imogen managed to raise a wan smile. In truth, his blind refusal to look at her as other men did warmed her to the core. ‘When I was running about the fields in your cast-off breeches, with my hair in plaits, you mean?’

Rick grinned. ‘With your front tooth missing and a black eye from falling out of a tree. Monty should have seen you then!’ He laughed.

Imogen laughed too, but she could not think how Rick did not hear how false it sounded.

He would be so disappointed if he ever found out what his friend really thought of her.

But then, she sighed, slumping into the corner, Rick was only the latest in a long line of people she had disappointed, one way or another. Before she had become such a trial to her aunt and uncle, she had proved unworthy of inclusion in Hugh Bredon’s will. But worst of all, the deepest hurt she had to live with was knowing that she had not even been of any great comfort to her own mother.

Amanda had spent all her life in mourning. She had found some compensation in nurturing Hugh’s boys, but now it dawned on Imogen, on a fresh wave of pain: Imogen had survived babyhood, grown and thrived, yet had never been any consolation at all. Having a mere daughter had never made up for Amanda’s loss of her sons.

Imogen rubbed at a tension spot forming between her brows. Seeing how much her mother had loved Hugh’s sons, had she tried to be just like them, so that her mother would love her too? Not that it had done her any good. Her mother had focussed all her attention on them, even making Imogen promise, while she had nursed her during her final illness, that she would take care of them in her stead.

And now here she was, dressed by her aunt to resemble a young lady of fashion. With everyone expecting her to marry well. While inside she was still that girl Rick had just described. A scruffy, grubby, unwanted by-product of a loveless marriage. Desperately hoping somebody might take to her just as she was.

She almost groaned aloud. She had spent so long trying to prove she was just as good as a boy, that she had never learned properly how to be a girl. It was not just the viscount she repelled. She had already learned, from the year she had spent observing the interaction between the sexes in polite Society, that no man would want to marry such an awkward female. She may as well accept it. She had always been a misfit, and now it looked as though she always would be.

Her aunt bustled up to the carriage then, so Rick was obliged to stand aside.

‘What a stroke of luck!’ her aunt beamed as soon as the door closed and they were on their way. ‘That Viscount Mildenhall should turn out to be a friend of Captain Bredon’s. And that he is prepared to take you out for a drive tomorrow. Only think what this will mean!’

‘Aunt, please, do not get your hopes up too high. It is just a drive in the park—’

‘Yes, but with Viscount Mildenhall! Everyone will know he has forgiven you for the Champagne Incident. If he could, perhaps, be persuaded to stand up with you, for a dance or two, as well—which he might since he seems on such good terms with Captain Bredon—well, it will do wonders for your social standing!’

Imogen sucked in a sharp breath. This was an aspect to the case she had not considered. Just being seen driven about the park by the viscount would indeed be something of a coup. Her aunt would make sure everyone knew about his friendship with her stepbrother. Perhaps being considered a connection of his would outweigh the handicap of her heritage.

For once, she entered wholeheartedly into her aunt’s enthusiastic preparations for the drive the next day. So much hinged on persuading Viscount Mildenhall to put aside his animosity towards her.

They had both noticed that the viscount seemed to favour the colour green; determined to curry favour with him, Lady Callandar dressed Imogen in a carriage dress and topcoat in that colour.

Her aunt regarded the finished effect with pursed lips.

‘My chinchilla furs,’ she said, snapping her fingers at Pansy, who ran to fetch them. ‘You want to look as though you have every right to be riding next to a man renowned for the elegance of his attire,’ she finished, draping the luxurious furs round Imogen’s shoulders.

Of course, when Viscount Mildenhall arrived, he completely eclipsed her, in his voluminous driving coat, fastened with enormous mother-of-pearl buttons, and a curly brimmed beaver hat set at a rakish angle on his golden locks. But at least she knew she looked remarkably elegant, for once, rather than the hoyden he thought her!

He had come to fetch her in the very same curricle he had lent to Rick. The same wizened groom stood holding the horses’ heads while they mounted up to the seat. As Viscount Mildenhall tucked the rug round her knees, she whispered, ‘Before you say whatever you have to say, I just wanted you to know that I am truly grateful for your not saying or doing anything last night to expose my dreadful conduct at Lady Carteret’s.’

He straightened up swiftly and shot her an inimical glance. ‘Do you think I wish people to know what happened on the terrace?’

Her spirits sank. Though he obviously felt some remorse for his part in that disgraceful episode, the way he looked at her told her that he was not about to shoulder any of the blame himself.

The brisk way he told the groom to stand clear of the horses and the stern set of his mouth as he pulled out into the busy street, told her that he was not yet ready to listen to her explanations for everything that had so far gone wrong between them.

He negotiated the remaining length of Mount Street, crossed Park Lane, then pulled into the park before speaking again.

‘You are extremely fond of your brother, are you not?’

‘Yes.’

‘You would do nothing to hurt him, I trust?’

‘Of course not!’

‘Then—’ the muscles of his jaw clenched as though he was steeling himself to proceed ‘—having given the matter careful consideration, I believe the best solution for all concerned, is for us to marry.’

There! He had said it. He had already written to arrange an appointment to speak to her maternal uncle, Lord Callandar, before he had discovered she was not only the wanton Miss Hebden, but also Rick’s sister. Not that it made one jot of difference in the long run. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. It had almost floored him to discover that the temptress whose charms he had sampled under the frosty moonlight, was the same woman one of his closest friends had always described as a paragon. A woman he had decided to help out of the difficulties she was experiencing.

He had been sure he was doomed to a miserable marriage with a scheming hussy. And as he got progressively more drunk as he saw a long, miserable future pan out before him, married to a woman he could feel no respect for, he began to wish he had not been so picky with Rick, when he had told him Midge needed a husband. He had always thought she had sounded like a really nice girl. Once upon a time, he had thought that if he ever married, he would want it to be to a girl like her. Someone who would be a loyal companion to him, even when they both grew old.

And though he had believed such happiness could now never be his, since he was committed to marrying Miss Hebden, he had decided to do what he could for Rick’s little sister. Life had been hard on her. She deserved a shot at happiness. And so he had spent the day scouring town for men he knew would appreciate what she had to bring to a marriage. When by rights, he should have gone straight to Lord Callandar’s house and sealed his own fate.

Not that it made any difference now. Miss Hebden was Midge. The girl Rick had said would enjoy romping about the estates with his neglected little brothers. The girl who would be well able to cope with his difficult father, having nursed her own cantankerous stepfather through his final illness.

The girl who, he saw out of the corner of his eye, was looking at him as though he had lost his mind.

‘What, me and you?’ She was now saying it as though the idea had never occurred to her. ‘M-marry?’

He gave her the benefit of a cynical smile. ‘Why not?’ The more he thought about it, the more sense it made. He had been attracted to her from the first moment he had seen her. Even though he had known her only as the scandalous Miss Hebden. Now that he had learned more about her background, he could perhaps understand what had driven her to employ such desperate measures to get herself a husband. And there was no denying that she would cope with the situation at Shevington far better than most women.

‘Why not?’ she glanced over her shoulder at the groom, who bore the wooden expression of a servant pretending not to eavesdrop, and lowered her voice. ‘Well, to start with, there is my reputation!’

He blinked. He had not expected her to argue. Leap up and down, and shout with triumph, perhaps. But not to argue.

‘Explain,’ he bit out curtly.

‘Oh, come! You know all about my mother and father. And I noticed that you took good care not to introduce me as Miss Hebden last night. It is quite obvious that you cannot want the daughter of such a notorious couple in your family!’

‘Don’t be absurd!’ Nothing had been further from his mind. In fact, his mind had not been engaged at all when he had first realized that Midge and Miss Hebden were one and the same person. He had just acted from some deep, visceral objection to permitting any other man to make any kind of overture towards his woman. Not that he was about to admit to the wave of possessiveness that had overwhelmed him, the moment she had removed that cloak, and revealed the lush figure he had held in his arms the night before. It would be a grave error at this stage, to let her know what a hold she had over him. She was the kind of woman who would use it to her advantage! So, in a voice that even he felt was verging on the pious, he said, ‘I was considering Rick’s feelings last night. I did not want him to be hurt. And he would be, if he knew men were making wagers about which of them—’ He stopped short.

But Imogen knew the nature of the speculation rife about her.

He allowed the horses to trot for several yards, before saying in a more conciliatory tone, ‘No family is ever free from scandal, in one form or another. My own father’s third marriage, for instance, was most unfortunate. His wife was far too young to marry a man already twice widowed, who wished to live in rural seclusion. She had—’ he paused, settling his face into a determinedly blank expression ‘—a series of very well-documented affairs. My father is still haunted by doubts about the legitimacy of my young twin brothers, though naturally, he acknowledges them as his.’

Imogen gasped, and half turned to him on her seat. ‘I do not know what to say.’

‘Just agree to marry me, that is all I want to hear you say,’ he said grimly.

‘But you surely cannot want to—’

He cut her off impatiently. ‘Rick must surely have told you how things stand for me. The earl is desperate to see me married. He cannot bear the thought I might die childless. And now you know why. He wants his own offspring to inherit his lands. Besides which, the longer I dally in town, the less chance I will have…Matters at Shevington are not…’ He shook his head. ‘I should be there.’

Imogen remembered her aunt telling her that the old man was at death’s door, and laid a hand on his sleeve. ‘I am so sorry. I forgot how unwell he is. Of course, I understand how important it is you get your future settled. But it cannot be with me…’

‘I fail to see why. Rick knows us both well, and assures me we would suit.’

Why on earth was she persisting in saying she did not want to marry him, when she had been doing her utmost to entrap him for weeks? Unless, it suddenly occurred to him, his behaviour on the terrace outside Lady Carteret’s ballroom had frightened her. He probed the inside of his bruised lower lip with the tip of his tongue. The first slap had been delivered in a spurt of temper, but those punches…

Had he really scared her so much she could no longer bear the thought of marrying him? He felt a frisson of guilt in regard to his conduct towards her. He had insulted her, manhandled her and torn her gown. He shifted uneasily in his seat. At Limmer’s, later on, Rick had told him, his face grim, that his sister had been taken suddenly ill and begged him to take her home. He had been too sunk in his own gloomy reflections to bother questioning him, particularly when Rick proved reluctant to talk. But now he saw she must have been in quite a state for Rick to have felt it was more important to take her home, than storm straight outside and demand satisfaction.

He glanced down at her, sitting rigid on the seat beside him, her hands clenched into fists in her lap as though she still wanted to hit him.

Well, it made no difference. He had made up his mind to marry her, and that was all there was to it.

‘Miss Hebden,’ he said sternly, ‘I have promised Rick I will look after you. The only effective way to do that is to marry you. He feels guilty for the way his father mismanaged your affairs, and is concerned about how unhappy your maternal relatives are making you. Surely you do not want him to go back to France with worry over your future hanging over his head? A man in his situation needs all his wits about him.’

‘His situation? You talk as though he is going straight back into battle. France is at peace now! From his letters, it sounds as though all he has done for months is attend balls and picnics and cricket matches!’

‘That is beside the point. A military man needs to be prepared for any eventuality. There has been much unrest in the capital. The Bourbons are not popular. Plenty of people are agitating for Bonaparte to return. If that should happen, Europe will be plunged back into war.’

‘That,’ she said coldly, ‘is all a matter of conjecture.’

‘What is not a matter of conjecture though, Miss Hebden,’ he said, drawing unfairly upon the most devastating weapon in his arsenal, ‘is your conduct.’

‘My conduct?’

‘Yes. It is obvious to all who know you that it can only be a matter of time before you get embroiled in some real scandal—’

‘I will do no such thing!’

‘It will be unavoidable, if you will go about kissing men on moonlit terraces.’

‘That’s a despicable thing to say! You were the one who grabbed a defenceless female and mauled her about—’

‘Hardly defenceless…’ he indicated his bruised lip with one gloved finger ‘…reckless, unscrupulous, wild to a fault…’ He ignored her outraged gasp. ‘In fact, it is past time somebody took you in hand.’

‘I do not need anyone to take me in hand as you put it…’

‘On the contrary. You need a very strong man to keep you in line. I know only too well what you are capable of, and I will make damn sure that Rick never has to so much as blush for your conduct in future.’

‘You vile worm!’ she gasped. ‘You are the very last man I would ever marry!’

‘Coming it a little too strong, Miss Hebden,’ he drawled cynically. ‘Considering how very much you enjoyed kissing me.’

‘A few fleeting kisses are one thing, marriage is quite another!’

‘You will not be going about kissing any more men, Miss Hebden. Consider the feelings of your aunt and uncle, if you will not embrace respectability for Rick’s sake. They must have spent a fortune on you, considering every time I have seen you, you have been dressed up to the nines. And I know you have not a penny to your name.’

‘You can talk! Every time I have seen you, the extravagance of your attire has taken my breath away! A more vain, shallow, selfish…peacock of a man I have never met.’

‘I am a catch, though. What do you think your uncle and aunt will say when they hear that after all they have done for you, you have turned your nose up at making such a brilliant match?’

‘Why should they hear anything of the sort?’

‘They will know. Because I have already arranged to call upon your uncle this evening. At which time, I intend to ask his permission for your hand.’ He turned and smiled at her grimly. ‘I give you fair warning, Miss Hebden. Do you think you will be able to come up with a reason for refusing my suit that will satisfy your guardians?’

She went very still.

‘Quite so. They know, as I know, that marrying me is the best solution all round. And I think that, upon reflection, you will have to agree.’