Pride and Fire Page 3

  Paul purposely never romanced a woman of the ton, and he wasn’t about to start now. He was in no position to offer matrimony at the present time. One look at his ledgers reminded him of that sorry fact. Pity that a young woman of her status would expect nothing less. He only prayed that his brief taste of her wouldn’t prove his undoing.

  He tried to focus his attention on the folder. It was from a new client, one whose good opinion was as valuable as the fee he’d pay. Paul wrote speeches for his clients, speeches to present in Parliament. No motion was given consideration until someone had spoken of it for at least three hours, or that was how Paul saw it. But he was gifted with the pen, and able to make a sound argument from any point of view. The sticking point for him was that he rarely saw any merit in the arguments presented. He was more open-minded than his friends as a result of his work, however.

  Not tonight, apparently. He closed the folder in front of him and rubbed his hands over his face. Ah, when he gave more than a moment’s thought to their kiss, he could imagine the taste of her, the feel of her sweet mouth opening beneath his. He’d never felt such a rush of desire in his life. He wasn’t inexperienced in matters of a sexual nature. He’d bedded many women since reaching adulthood and always left them with smiles on their faces. But Michelle was a lady, as pure as she was lovely. He was a rake to have thoughts of her that were anything but chaste. But when he’d touched his mouth to hers… He couldn’t think about it without desire heating his blood.

  Chester and Viscount Roberts, another good friend of Paul’s, were happy to escort Catherine and Elizabeth to the functions in Paul’s absence, claiming the girls’ enthusiasm breathed new life into the stuffy affairs. So on these long evenings he vowed to continue his work on his speeches and attempt to keep a certain red-haired girl from his mind.

  “Not bloody likely.”

  He reopened the folder and studied the words until they swam before his eyes.

  * * * *

  A few days later, Roberts and Chester stopped by Paul’s townhouse on their way to pick up the sisters.

  “You two almost look respectable,” Paul said. “Why Roberts, you may even find yourself in the trap before you know it.”

  “Never mind, Leed.” Robert eyed his perfectly tied cravat in the hall mirror and winked at Paul. “We’re escorting the twins tonight.”

  “Are they proving a hindrance to your romantic endeavors, Roberts?” Paul asked.

  Roberts flashed a grin at him, his gray eyes sparkling. “Perhaps I would like the chance to pursue someone whose brother won’t have me drawn and quartered if we dance together more than twice.”

  “Yes, Leed,” Chester added. “It’s your turn to listen to the twins chatter on and on.”

  “All right.” Paul laughed. “Go. I’ll take them tonight. I daresay I can withstand my sisters alone.”

  With exaggerated sighs of relief, the gentlemen took their leave. Resigned, Paul climbed the stairs to his chamber to dress for the night’s festivities.

  * * * *

  Michelle stood in her room, once more before the cheval mirror. She’d chosen a lovely gown of deep rose, the color giving her skin a glow. She fastened a choker of pearls around her neck and fingered them for a moment. Matching earrings clung to her earlobes and she thought she looked as much the picture of a young woman eager for the Marriage Mart as she could manage. Pity she wasn’t shopping.

  She tried to stir some excitement for the coming evening but failed miserably. Tonight she was to ride with friends of her mother’s and thus would be unable to leave the festivities whenever she desired.

  “More’s the pity,” she muttered.

  Most of her hair was piled on top of her head and she placed one thick loose curl against her bosom, thinking to detract from the revealing dress. She pulled on her gloves with a sigh of resignation and mentally prepared for the coming evening.

  She found endurance was the most she could rouse soon after she arrived at the bash as her mother’s oft-repeated litany of instructions rapped in her head. The rooms were small and the noise of the crowd was deafening. To add to the din, the orchestra was too large for such small quarters. At least she could finally block out her mother’s admonitions.

  She looked up at the lanky gentleman commanding her attention, growing tired of holding her expression of interest. His stuttering made the conversation even more difficult. Why couldn’t the floor open up beneath her and swallow her whole? The possibility caused a genuine smile to curve her lips.

  She felt a tickling at the back of her neck and had the distinct feeling she was being watched. She turned, shocked to see Lord Leed staring at her intently from across the room. Her heart tripped as she caught her breath. What was he doing here? She’d seen his sisters earlier, had greeted them amicably, but she’d assumed he wouldn’t be in attendance. He’d been absent from the parties for over a week!

  Her eyes ran over his splendid, impeccably dressed form and her heart skipped for an entirely different reason. A glance at his face gave her pause, though. As she watched he quirked a half-smile at her, that dimple showing in his cheek. Oh, he was so smug and sure of himself. Blasted man.

  She turned away, unwilling to face his ridicule.

  Paul tried to follow Roberts’s conversation but watched Lady Michelle instead. She was once again surrounded by young pups, each one vying for her attention. She smiled up at one of them, her profile an exquisite display that vied for attention with her incredible figure. He began to walk toward her but checked his movement. No. He would avoid her as much as he’d avoided the parties.

  “Paul!” Catherine tugged on his sleeve. “There is Lady Michelle. Why don’t you ask her to dance?”

  Why not, indeed? No bloody way. “I don’t feel much like dancing.”

  “Well, I do,” Roberts said simply, heading off in Michelle’s direction.

  The orchestra struck up a waltz just then. As Paul watched, Roberts bowed to Michelle and offered his hand.

  She accepted with a smile, obviously warmed by the handsome man’s attentions. Bloody Roberts twirled her onto the dance floor as she looked up at him in genuine delight. An odd sensation settled in Paul’s chest.

  At least he could admit to himself that he longed to be the one holding her. His eyes narrowed as he watched Roberts’s easy exchange with the girl.

  “Enough,” he grumbled. Turning on his heel, he strode from the room.

  A long while later, Catherine found him in one of the front rooms. “There you are, Paul. May we give my friend a ride home? She doesn’t wish to wait for the people she came with to decide they’ve had their fill.”

  Paul shrugged. “That’s fine with me. You may tell her to wait in my carriage, Catherine.”

  Catherine nodded and left him. Paul was happy for the diversion. Avoiding one red-headed vision was wearing on him and he’d only find relief when his sisters were safely home. Then he could ponder his puzzling reaction to Michelle in solitude and brandy.

  Paul joined Chester in the ballroom, unable to keep from looking for Michelle’s slender form among the throng. Disappointment struck him when he found her absent. He straightened, a dark thought in his mind.

  “Where’s Roberts?” he asked Chester.

  Chester arched a brow at his vehemence. “He’s over there,” he said with a nod. “Talking with Elizabeth.”

  Paul let out a breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding. “Well I bid you good night, then.”

  “Why don’t you let your sisters remain with Roberts and me?” Chester asked. “I’m certain they don’t wish to make such an early night of it. We’ll see them safely home.”

  “But a friend of Catherine’s…” Paul began. “Never mind. That would be fine. Thank you, Chester.”

  “No need to thank me, old man. Not everyone hates these things as much as you do.”

  “I never used to,” Paul grumbled under his breath.

  Chester heard him nonetheless and barked out a laugh.

/>   With a scowl at his friend, Paul took his leave. His carriage was out front, its door held open by a liveried attendant. Peering inside, he noted a slight figure seated on one of the cushioned seats. He’d tell the girl she’d have to find another way home. He wouldn’t damage the reputation of his sister’s friend.

  He stepped up into the carriage, a smile on his face for the young lady. He lost that smile when she turned to face him.

  “Lady Michelle!” he said in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

  “Catherine said you wouldn’t mind seeing me home,” she rushed out. She tried to peer behind him. “Where is she?”

  “Chester and Roberts will see my sisters home.”

  Michelle stared at him for a long moment, chewing her bottom lip. She started to stand. “Well, then I shall find another—”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said gruffly.

  He knew it was folly but he couldn’t stop himself. A quick glance on the drive showed no one took note of him at the moment. Stepping all the way into the carriage, he closed the door.

  Michelle’s eyes widened. “But—”

  “You’re ready to leave and so am I.”

  She lowered her lashes and gazed out the window. Paul settled across from her, watching her as the carriage rolled away from the curb.

  “Where do you live?” he asked to fill the silence.

  “I gave the driver my address,” she whispered.

  She focused her attention on the night landscape rolling past.

  “Did you have a nice time this evening?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she allowed.

  Paul let the silence win for the time being, at a loss for words himself. As she continued to stare out into the dark night, he let his gaze caress her. Her hair, in the light of the lanterns, shone like fire. Her skin looked like the finest porcelain. His fingers itched to feel her softness. His reaction to their close proximity caused him to shift on the cushioned seat. He let out a ragged sigh, and she turned to him at last.

  “I am sorry this ride is so unpleasant for you.” Her eyes flashed at him. “Perhaps if you would ignore me—”

  “I can’t ignore you,” he said in a low voice. “Believe me, I’ve tried.”

  She gasped, her body trembling as her eyes flew open wide. “Lord Leed, I—”

  He joined her on the seat. His actions apparently stunned her speechless, he was pleased to note. “I can’t deny my attraction to you, either.”

  She gave a tiny shake of her head even as she swayed toward him.

  “Michelle,” he murmured.

  He brushed his fingers over her cheek, lost in the golden depths of her eyes. He cupped the side of her face, tracing the curve of her lower lip. She closed her eyes and touched the tip of her tongue to his thumb, sending a shaft of desire through his body. He brushed his lips against hers, her fire taking hold of him.

  “Paul…” she whispered softly into his mouth.

  He pulled back. She’d never called him by his given name before. God, he’d never heard a sexier sound in his life. With a soft groan of surrender, he crushed his mouth to hers. She opened, allowing his tongue to sweep inside and taste her. She whimpered as she caught his passion, reaching up to twine her fingers in his hair.

  Paul wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly against him. His mouth left hers to place teasing kisses along the column of her throat. She leaned her head back, a soft sigh escaping her. His lips found the swell of her breast, the skin softer and smoother than he’d imagined. He lowered her to the seat, tugging at her bodice. He freed one breast to his touch, its pink tip straining for his possession. Cupping her breast with his hand, he found she fit him perfectly. His palm brushed across the nipple, and he glanced up at her to see the passion etched on her face.

  “Ah, Michelle,” he rasped. “You’re so beautiful.”

  He bent his head to take her nipple into his mouth. Just then the carriage hit a rut in the road and gave a lurch. He jerked himself upright. Raking his fingers through his hair, he hung his head and tried to cool his blood.

  Michelle was frozen to the seat, her rapid breathing in tune with his own. He heard a rustling as she sat up and straightened her dress. She let out a small sob and he glanced at her then. She looked so hurt and vulnerable. He was the worst kind of rake to use and reject her.

  “Michelle,” he began gruffly, “I’m sorry I—”

  “Sorry you touched me?”

  He said nothing.

  “Why are you so angry with me?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “I’m not angry,” he said, his voice rough.

  “You sound angry. If touching me bothers you so, why did you?”

  He grabbed her hand and pressed it against himself so she could feel the evidence of his arousal through his tight breeches. She gasped and quickly pulled her hand away.

  “This is what’s bothering me,” he growled.

  He turned away from her to stare out the window as she had done earlier.

  “You think I’m beautiful?” Michelle asked in a small voice.

  Paul looked at her, an indefinable emotion deep in his chest.

  “You’re too beautiful for my sanity,” he muttered, turning away once more.

  The carriage rolled on for a few more minutes, her sniffles the only sound in the dark interior. By the time they rocked to a stop in front of her home, he’d made up his mind. As she stood to exit, he touched her hand and she blinked at him in surprise.

  “I’ll call on you tomorrow, if that’s agreeable,” he said softly.

  She could only nod, her eyes round. He helped her down from the carriage and took in their location for the first time.

  Before she entered the elegant townhouse she turned and waved to him with a small smile. The door closed and he climbed back into the carriage.

  He leaned his head against the seat. “Damn.”

  He’d come very close to taking her there in the carriage. The way she’d responded inflamed him like no other woman. But she lived in one of the most exclusive sections of town. What would he have to offer her? His title, surely, but little fortune. He closed his eyes and looked forward to seeing her tomorrow. He had no choice but to make the arrangements despite the fact that no one had seen them together. He’d simply think about the rest of it at another time.

  She would be his. No matter what.

  Chapter 4

  He hadn’t meant to kiss her.

  Paul readied himself for the day, dressing with care. He wore a white shirt over buff-colored breeches and brown boots and chose a dark green waistcoat and brown jacket. He ran a brush through his hair and regarded himself closely in the mirror over his washstand.

  Michelle had looked so beautiful in the faint light of the lanterns, she made his heart ache. When she’d whispered his name, it was like setting a match to kindling. If not for the bloody bump in the road he’d have taken her, consequences be damned.

  Was he wise in pursuing her? When he’d seen her home last evening, he’d been surprised by the townhouse’s location. His own home was in the West End of London, a respectable location. But Michelle resided near Park Lane, one of the wealthiest streets in town.

  He frowned at his reflection. “It doesn’t signify.” He’d promised to call on her. And he was a gentleman of his word.

  * * * *

  Michelle awoke the next morning, eager to start the day. Viscount Leed—Paul!—was coming to call on her. She rushed through her toilette and sat in front of her vanity in her chemise and petticoat.

  Her lady’s maid, Betsy, stood behind her, pulling the brush through Michelle’s long red curls. “How’d you wish your hair this day, My Lady?”

  Michelle cocked her head to the side as she considered. “I am not certain where Lord Leed is taking me, Betsy. A simple style, I think.”

  “Certainly, My Lady.”

  Betsy fashioned the golden-red curls into braids coiled at the back of Michelle’s head, leaving several tendrils
framing her face. The maid then fetched the gown Michelle had chosen. It was moss green with a bit of lace on the edge of the scoop-necked bodice. The dress hugged her curves yet wasn’t nearly as daring as what she’d worn last night.

  She glanced at the rose gown that hung waiting to be cleaned and pressed. Paul had caressed her through that smooth fabric, and with nothing between his hands and her skin. She flushed at the memory. He’d called her beautiful.

  “I daresay, My Lady, His Lordship’ll be speechless when he sees you,” Betsy said as she took her leave.

  Michelle smiled at her reflection. “Speechless? I daresay he barely speaks two words at a time as it is.”

  She went belowstairs and found her mother in the parlor. “Lord Leed is calling today, Mother.”

  Her mother’s eyes went round. “My dear, why didn’t you wake me last evening?”

  “I assumed this morning would be timely enough.”

  “Viscount Leed…” Lady Helen nodded. “Wasn’t he at Kanewood last year?”

  “Yes,” Michelle answered. “Mother, what are you thinking?”

  “A very good friend of the earl’s, as well,” her mother said.

  Michelle stifled a sigh. “Mother?”

  “Lord Leed must be very respectable if he consorts with the likes of the Earl of Kanewood.”

  “Yes, he’s respectable. Why?”

  “Well, dear, I know how important your opinions are to you—”

  “Pray, don’t start, Mother.” Michelle rose, her hands on her hips. “If Lord Leed is put off by my having a mind of my own, then perhaps—”