Never Trust a Scoundrel Read online

  He didn’t like seeing her this way, worried and sad. He wanted to renew the fire in her eyes. “Tomorrow is the last day of the challenge.”

  A faint smile turned up the corners of her mouth. “I’ve almost won.”

  “I don’t concede yet. And since you cannot avoid me tomorrow, we’ll spend the evening together.”

  “One last chance?”

  There was a definite softness to her, an amusement, and he felt relieved.

  “We’re going to Vauxhall Gardens.”

  “I’ve heard of it of course, but I’ve never been there.”

  He had her interest now, and part of it was because she thought he would not be alone with her. Little did she know what could go on in the Gardens, with its dark pathways, ancient Greek décor, and many people walking the line between respectability and chaos.

  “But how can I go with you? Shall I bring my chaperones?” She was laughing at him now, as if she sensed victory in her grasp.

  “No chaperones will be necessary. We’ll be masked, of course, so no one will know us. I’ll send over the perfect gown for you to wear.”

  “A disguise?”

  He came closer and put his hands at her waist. She trembled faintly, and he knew with surety that tomorrow night would hold the true test. “A disguise. You can pretend to be…anyone you want.”

  Her head was turned away from him, as if she were worried he might try to kiss her. Her lovely profile showed her contemplation.

  “Say yes,” he murmured against her temple, feeling the softness of a curl against his lips, inhaling the headiness of lavender.

  “Yes.”

  Chapter 21

  It was almost over, Grace thought the next evening as she waited in her drawing room for Daniel. Ruby waited with her, wearing the same disapproving frown she’d worn since they’d both opened the dressmaker’s box and lifted out the gown that Daniel had sent to her.

  Ruby shook her head and tsked softly. “’Tis showin’ too much of your bosom, Miss Grace,” she said for the tenth time.

  “Every draft tells me that,” Grace answered, trying to lighten the mood.

  But she stared down at her breasts, pushed up high by the corset until they were almost overflowing the gown. And then she settled the feathered mask over her face, and she was someone else, someone dressed in the silver and white of a woodland fairy gleaming by moonlight. She felt light and beautiful and—bold, but it was how Daniel wanted her to look their last night together.

  She would let him look, and she would revel in matching wits together. After this, with no challenge, he would probably lose interest in her, and she tried not to let herself despair.

  How could she make him fall in love with her? She’d proved woefully inadequate with Baxter Wells, so she certainly could not trust her own instincts. And Daniel’s family would be urging him to stay far away. Much as he enjoyed his role as rebel, he loved his family and would not hurt them.

  But she had to be with him one last time.

  She heard the knock at the front door, felt her nerves jump within her at the sound of Daniel’s deep, smooth voice talking to the butler.

  And then at last he was shown in, and he came to a dead stop in the doorway, his grin fading, and his dark eyes narrowing.

  She held her breath, as he looked her over so thoroughly he might have been touching her.

  How could she keep resisting him when she was in love? The warm look in his eyes made her melt—made her imagine emotions he didn’t feel for her.

  Ruby cleared her throat, and the spell between them was broken.

  Daniel bowed. “Miss Banbury, you look lovely this evening.”

  “Thank you, sir. You have excellent taste in ladies’ gowns.”

  When Ruby tsked again, he grinned. “But it is only a costume, and it disguises you well. Who would ever think the proper Miss Banbury lurked beneath?”

  “I could ride in the carriage with ye, Miss Grace,” Ruby said.

  Grace shook her head, not even looking at the maid. “No, it’s all right, Ruby. You don’t need to wait up.”

  Whatever the maid thought of that, Grace didn’t notice, because she took Daniel’s arm and let him lead her out to the enclosed carriage.

  They had to cross the river to reach Vauxhall Gardens, and the ride seemed too long, yet too short. The tension and awareness between them said it all—it was the last night of the challenge. She was thinking if she could just hold out until midnight, what she did with Daniel afterward would not matter.

  She knew he had plans for what would happen this evening. Let him try, she thought, her face covered in the mask. She was someone else tonight, a woman who didn’t have to fear blackmailers or poverty.

  “Put on your mask,” she said softly.

  Without a word, he slid the black mask down over his eyes, leaving his sensual mouth bare.

  The mouth she wanted to kiss.

  The heat was rising too fast within her. She had brought a feathered fan, and now she waved it before her face. She watched his gaze dip to her half-covered breasts, and knew she was hiding and revealing them every time she moved the fan.

  She was playing a reckless, daring game, but the results would affect the rest of her life.

  At last they arrived at Vauxhall Gardens, and Daniel helped her down from the carriage. They joined the crowds, from noblemen to commoners, seeking entrance, and since so many people wore masks, she was just as anonymous as they. Who would know what she did this night but she and Daniel?

  Together they went through the dark passage, their feet crunching on gravel, and emerged into fairy light. Thousands of globe lamps were hung in the tall trees and down the famous walkways. She had told Daniel that it was her first visit, so he followed the crowds and let her walk the grounds beneath the arches spanning the South Walk, past temples and pavilions and colonnades and the balloon-ascent tower. From a gaslit pond emerged giant Neptune and eight white seahorses. Grace clung to Daniel’s arm and laughed and gaped at the fairyland all around her.

  At last they settled in their supper box near the Gothic temple that housed the orchestra. Two other couples were seated in their box, and it was obvious they’d already been dipping into the wine, for their enthusiastic greeting made Grace giggle. No names were exchanged.

  As the music swelled loudly, the globe lights at the front of their box did not quite reach the back, where Grace and Daniel sat side by side. He kept his hand on her thigh and she let him, feeling the pressure of each finger on her skin as if she wore no clothing. Their shoulders rubbed against each other, so closely did they sit. They shared thin slivers of ham and chicken, drank too much wine, and bought extra fruit from the strawberry girl. Daniel touched a berry to Grace’s lips, and when she would have taken a bite, he slid it over her chin and down her neck, tracing a moist path between her breasts before meeting her eyes and taking a bite of the strawberry. Her lips were parted with his daring, and he fed the second half of the berry to her himself.

  “Don’t let your wife see how you treat your mistress!” guffawed a drunken voice from the front of their box.

  The other three people laughed uproariously, and Grace saw Daniel’s swift glance at her. Though his mask hid the upper half of his face from her, she knew what he was thinking: Would she take offense? Would she insist on leaving?

  But she wasn’t Grace tonight, and if they wanted to think her his mistress, well…let them. She could play the part.

  Grace lifted her wineglass in a toast. “To his wife, who doesn’t know what she’s missing!”

  Several glasses clinked together above the table, one broke, and there was even more laughter. Grace leaned into Daniel’s lap so that their lips were but a breath apart.

  “Are you pleased with me, sir?” she whispered.

  He seemed to be having trouble speaking, and she leaned closer and nipped at his bottom lip. His hand came up and fiercely cupped her head to hold her against him for a true kiss. She had to brace her hand on
his thigh to remain upright.

  Their dinner partners hooted and clapped as if the entertainment were better than Vauxhall itself.

  “Here is a bold lady!”

  Grace broke away from the headiness of Daniel’s kiss to see one of the brightly dressed and painted clowns standing at their table.

  “We need an adventurous maiden to join our show,” the clown continued. “Care you to come, my lady?”

  She was out of her chair before Daniel could even express an opinion. She found herself dancing on the lawn, as the clowns and the acrobats performed their tricks all around her. She could see Daniel standing next to their supper box, keeping an eye on her, his mouth quirked with amusement. The night was lit with thousands of globes that twinkled like stars above her, and as she whirled, she threw her arms wide and tilted back her head to take it all in.

  She wasn’t the only guest frolicking with the entertainers. Another woman bumped into her, and they both laughed. But this woman was unmasked although Grace did not recognize her. The woman’s face was flushed with dancing and perhaps too much wine.

  The woman eyed her speculatively. “So are you Throckmorten’s latest mistress?”

  Grace knew her mask was firmly in place—there was no reason to panic. In fact, she felt strangely confident. “Who?”

  The woman laughed and reached toward Grace’s face, as if she meant to pluck the mask away. Grace reared back, laughing, and ducked behind another clown.

  Someone caught her and lifted her off the ground, and she knew without looking that she was safe in Daniel’s firm embrace. As he carried her away from the Grove and down the darker paths, people cheered and toasted with their glasses. It was a hedonistic night, and she reveled in being part of it.

  She was kissing Daniel before the darkness even descended, their masks brushing. She knew other couples were furtively searching for their privacy, but she didn’t care. She didn’t know how he could even see where he was going, so thoroughly did she keep his face to hers. But at last she drew back to breathe, her arm around his shoulders, his strong arms behind her back and beneath her knees. Above her, Greek columns gleamed darkly against the blacker backdrop of the night sky. He sat down on a bench and laid her across his lap, leaving her open and vulnerable to him.

  While their mouths did a mating dance, his hands traced every part of her body as if he couldn’t get enough. She knew why he’d chosen the gown, for he was able to release her breasts with barely an effort. And then his hot mouth bathed her nipple, and she smothered a moan. Each tug of his lips made her feel another pull, deep in her belly. A whisper of cool air brushed her lower legs, and his palm slid up her calf. She would have let him continue his exquisite torture, but he suddenly lifted his head.

  “Damn, but this isn’t happening here,” he growled, standing up and settling her on her feet.

  She swayed and he caught her. When she put her arms around his neck and shamelessly pressed her body against his, his only response was to tug her corset and neckline back in place.

  He took her hand. “Come on!”

  And then he started to run, at a slow enough pace that she could keep up with him. They swerved between crowds of people, past the Rotunda, where everyone was heading to watch the equestrian show. The lit trees faded behind them, and they pushed past the crowds still coming in for the second show.

  As he signaled for their carriage, he pulled her up next to him.

  “Aren’t we staying for the fireworks?” she asked, out of breath yet laughing because she knew his response.

  He nuzzled her cheek. “We’ll make our own fireworks.”

  When the carriage arrived, he didn’t wait for the coachman to descend. Daniel dropped down the stairs, picked her up, and swept her up inside, where she fell back on the padded bench, propped on her elbows. A lit lantern swayed above her. After he folded back the step and closed the door, the carriage lurched, and he practically fell on top of her.

  His mouth came down on hers, and he dropped to his knees on the floor. In between frantic kisses, he slid the mask off her face and tossed his own over his shoulder. She pushed his coat off his shoulders, so she could feel the heat of him through his shirt. His tongue entered her mouth, his hands began to strip her, and she lost the last of her sanity, forgot about wagers and challenges. All that mattered was the explosion of passion between them, the excitement, the way she felt about herself when she was with him. Even when he wanted her body, he made her feel cherished and worshipped. She loved him and wanted to show him.

  She pulled his shirt out from his trousers, reaching under to run her hands up his hard stomach. When she tweaked his nipples with her fingernails, he shuddered, making her feel as if she had the same power over him that he wielded over her.

  He had somehow managed to reach beneath her and unbutton her gown, because it spread loose across her breasts. He sat her upright against the back of the bench, as he began to pull the gown up over her head. After her corset and chemise and drawers went flying, she was sitting there naked but for her stockings.

  And she wanted him naked, too. With desperate hands she helped pull off his shirt, then watched with excitement as he unbuttoned his trousers. He couldn’t stand in the carriage, so he fell back on the far bench to remove them. Two naked people were soon sitting across from one another in a carriage. All she could look at was his engorged penis. She and Baxter had been furtive in their lovemaking, so she had never gotten such a vivid look as she did now. She felt hot and tremulous and needy just imagining being one with him.

  And then Daniel was on his knees before her, hands on her face to bring her to his kiss. They were greedy, devouring each other’s mouths, hands skimming and caressing and grasping. His erection rubbed intimately against her womanhood, her thighs clutched his hips, and she leaned back against the bench so that he could bring his mouth to her breasts. He held them reverently and licked her nipples with long strokes that made her shudder with rising pleasure.

  At last she felt his erection probe deeper, and when he hesitated, looking into her eyes, she knew nothing else but the need to give in, to feel the pleasure that swept her away from herself. She loved him. She nodded and wrapped her legs about him as he began to ease gently inside her.

  Too gently, too slowly. With a moan she tightened her legs, welcoming his sudden deep thrust. The pleasure was almost painful, so deep and pure and urgent. On his knees he surged and retreated, each undulation sending her higher and higher. He bent over her to take her nipple into his mouth. She strained and quivered until at last, her pleasure broke over her, and she rode it with a cry of bliss. He groaned against her breasts. She felt him shuddering as his own climax poured through him.

  He leaned against her, holding her safe in his arms. Her legs slowly slid down from the grip they’d had on his hips. He was still inside her, full and hard, filling a place in her soul she’d thought empty.

  And then she heard a distant tolling of church bells ringing through the city. Daniel stiffened in her arms, as they counted out twelve tolls.

  He had won the challenge.

  “Those bells are always wrong,” he said mildly.

  Though her amusement was out of place, she burst out laughing. “All of them? All over the city?”

  “Of course. I know for certain that you won our challenge, that you held out and defeated me.”

  He straightened above her, hands beside her hips on the bench. She looked up at him, at the fine perspiration on his brow that dampened his dark hair at his forehead. Their bodies swayed with the movement of the carriage through the London streets. They were still most intimately joined, but that had no part in the soft way she regarded him, the tenderness she knew was showing on her face. The violin had been a link for him to his father. Surely he would not so easily surrender it to her if she didn’t mean something to him.

  But what now? If he wanted her to win, was it all over? For after all, hadn’t he just taken the ultimate prize, her surrender?


  Chapter 22

  Daniel stared down at Grace in bemusement, watching as her breathing finally eased. She had to be uncomfortable, sitting on the bench as she was with him still between her legs.

  But there was no virgin’s discomfort, as he had guessed back at Madingley Court. Baxter Wells had been here before him.

  His anger at the man returned. She’d been led to believe herself in love, and had been lied to. At least Daniel wasn’t misleading her about their relationship.

  But now she was his mistress, he thought, staring down into her lovely green eyes. Though she looked calm, she was also watchful, waiting for what he’d do next.

  And he didn’t know what that was. Was he still bothered by the fact that after all their intimacy, she still hadn’t told him what had happened with Wells?

  He pulled out of her and somehow managed to sprawl at her side on the bench. She looked at his cock, which was still erect as it rested on his stomach.

  “Shouldn’t we get dressed quickly?” she asked, starting to straighten.

  He put a hand on her thigh. “No need. The coachman won’t stop until I give the signal.”

  She glanced at him and spoke dryly. “Well trained?”

  “As in, do I seduce women in my carriage on a regular basis? I simply gave him instructions before we left the Gardens.”

  She relaxed back against the seat. Their bare arms and thighs touched, and he kept waiting for her to awkwardly cover herself, but she didn’t.

  But again, a man’s nudity was not new to her.

  He had to stop thinking about that, so he looked at her breasts, resting high on her rib cage, pert and deliciously pink. He wanted to taste them again, and was about to when she spoke.

  “Are you going to keep staring?”

  “Are you?”

  She blushed. “I am allowed to. But surely you must be used to the sight.”

  “Of you naked? Do you think I’m sneaking about your house watching you dress?”

  “Other women naked,” she corrected, reddening even more.