To Bed a Beaty

Heath laughed. “No doubt. But you’d best take care if you don’t want to find yourself hanging in the parson’s noose. You can’t do to her what you’re thinking without the benefit of marriage. Marcus would rip you apart, not to mention that your own honor wouldn’t allow it.”

When Drew all but growled, Heath gave him a friendly clap on the shoulder. “I think I will take myself back to London before you call me out. There’s little amusement to be found here, anyway. In truth, I wouldn’t mind encountering your highwayman. At least it would liven up my life for a time.”

There was little amusement here for him, too, Drew thought as Heath walked away. Seeing Roslyn dance with Haviland was the primary cause, but his dissatisfaction went deeper than that.

The thought of her trying to seduce Haviland, of making love to him, filled Drew with an inexplicable anger. The bald truth was, he didn’t want her to become carnally intimate with any other man but him.

He wanted to be the one to introduce her to the secrets of sensuality, to awaken her to passion and pleasure and every other delight to be found between a man and woman.

Which confounded him to no end.

This was the first time in his life he had ever been envious of another man over the fair sex. He was frankly astounded to realize how possessive he felt toward Roslyn.

Worse, he saw no resolution to his cursed predicament. He damned well had no desire for marriage, yet he couldn’t deny the primitive, purely masculine urge to “carry Roslyn back to his lair,” as Heath had put it. Or at the very least, to hold her in his own arms again.

But then, Drew realized, firmly tamping down his lust, it was perfectly proper for a gentleman to hold a young lady at a ball if he danced with her.

Roslyn did not look happy to see him, Drew noted when he came up to her at the conclusion of the quadrille and interrupted her lively conversation with Haviland to claim her for the next set.

“You don’t mind if I steal her away for a dance, do you, my good man?” Drew asked, making the point moot by taking Roslyn’s elbow possessively.

The earl gave him a piercing look, but then bowed with good grace. “As you wish, Arden. I don’t want to monopolize Miss Loring’s time, despite the pleasure it gives me. And I have other guests I must see to.”

Drew knew Roslyn couldn’t very well argue with him, either, as he led her onto the floor for a waltz.

“What if I mind?” she said then, her tone exasperated.

He returned an innocent look. “Do you have some objection to dancing with me?”

“Of course I do. Winifred has been matchmaking again. She sought you out to beg you to partner me, didn’t she?”

“Well, yes,” he answered truthfully, “but I chose to ask you.”

“You might have done me the courtesy of giving me a choice.”

“You could have refused.”

“Not without causing a scene.”

“Which you are in danger of doing right now,” Drew pointed out, “since the music has begun and we are simply standing here.” When she gave a guilty start, he took her hand and drew her close. “Smile sweetly, darling, and look as if you are enjoying yourself.”

Roslyn complied, even though the light in her eyes suggested she was ready to do battle with him. Drew smiled to himself. The enjoyment had returned to the evening, unquestionably. In fact, he was enjoying himself for the first time since their awkward parting nearly a week ago.

She fitted into his arms quite well as they settled into the rhythm of the waltz, her steps light and graceful. He wondered if Roslyn would follow his rhythm as well when they made love.

If they made love. Which would never happen without the benefit of marriage, as Heath had rightly pointed out.

“So why don’t you wish to dance with me?” Drew asked, determined to confront her misgivings and get them out in the open.

“Our lessons are over,” Roslyn replied primly, as if she had rehearsed her answer. “There is no point in us even seeing each other again. Certainly we are not required to dance together.”

“It will only help your consequence if you are considered the object of my attentions. You do want to impress Haviland’s relations, don’t you?”

“Yes, of course, but you interrupted a highly promising conversation with him.”

“That was precisely my intention.”

Her eyes flashed. “Are you purposefully trying to spoil my chances with Lord Haviland?”

“What if I am?”

“You wouldn’t…” she began, then eyed him suspiciously. “Would you?”

“That would be ungentlemanly of me,” Drew equivocated. “But it won’t hurt for him to think he has competition.”

Her expression was full of irony. “You are not his competition. You have made it abundantly clear you aren’t interested in love and matrimony.”

“But he doesn’t have to know that. Take my word for it, a man can become extremely possessive if he thinks someone is poaching on his turf.”

Drawing a deep breath, Roslyn made an apparent attempt at composure. “Thank you, your grace, for your concern on my behalf, but I will proceed with my campaign on my own from now on.”

“What gratitude,” Drew drawled, amused.

“I have already expressed my gratitude several times.”

“I told you, I don’t want your gratitude.”

“Then what do you want?”

You, was Drew’s unbidden thought. I want you. I want your lovely mouth glued to mine. I want your luscious body writhing beneath mine. I want to hear you gasping with pleasure as I fill you…

Aloud, he merely said, “I want to know why you have been avoiding me so assiduously tonight.”

A telltale blush rose to her cheeks. “I think you must know why.”

“You’re embarrassed by what happened between us in your library last week.”

“You are mistaken. I am appalled by what happened in our library last week.”

“So we kissed. There was no harm done.”

“So you say,” Roslyn muttered cryptically.

Drew peered down at her. “Did I hurt you somehow?”

Roslyn grimaced, then shook her head as if chastising herself. “No, of course not. I just should never have let it go so far.” Her gaze narrowed up at him. “Yet you bear the greater share of the blame, for you are the expert. You should have stopped me.”

“Can I help it if you find me irresistible?”

Her eyes widened as she struggled between vexation and amusement. “Your conceit is astounding, your grace,” she finally said. “It was the novelty of the situation that caught me off guard. But now that I know what to expect, I intend to forget the incident entirely, I assure you.”

“I can’t forget it,” Drew murmured truthfully. “And I don’t believe you can either. You felt something when we kissed, just as I did.”

She refused to acknowledge his assertion. Instead she summoned a serene smile. “You haven’t asked me how my seduction of Haviland went this past week.”

Drew felt his amusement fade. “Very well, darling, how did it go?”

“Splendidly. I think I have finally gotten the hang of flirtation. Haviland seems to be enjoying it, at any rate. I expect we will proceed to kissing at our next encounter, hopefully tomorrow morning. He asked me to drive out with him then. It is what I have been striving for, and I have you to thank for teaching me.”

The lightly taunting words, the challenge in her smile, had a predictable effect on Drew’s male pride, and he found himself clenching his teeth again, while his hands tightened reflexively at her waist and around her fingers.

He was vaguely aware that their steps had slowed as the waltz came to an end, yet it wasn’t until she spoke that he realized he was still holding her.