Marquess of Diamonds: Lords of Scandal Read online

  Satisfaction rippled through him. Lockton? Was it good news? Did he know where to find Sir Thomas? Hart would have to read it as soon as he returned home.

  The carriage turned down an alley, stopping next to a handsome townhome.

  The letter would have to wait. For right now, he’d need his full attention on the woman he’d be escorting about the garden. He had to pretend to be captivated while not actually allowing himself to become so. And as visions of kissing her, tasting her soft lips had plagued him all night, it was a feat that was proving deucedly difficult.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Abigail stood perfectly still as the Marquess of Hartwell greeted her father. By all accounts, the meeting was affable as the two men chatted quietly.

  Her mother also remained silent, a rarity in their house, though her pinched expression and upright posture clearly spoke her feelings in the absence of her words. Her mother was livid.

  And when the silence ended, they’d all feel the countess’s wrath, so Abigail intended to take full advantage of this harmonious moment. She’d go out without a word of criticism from her mother and enjoy the warm day on a handsome man’s arm.

  She’d even attempt to learn a thing or two while she attempted to have…fun. Her father’s words came back to her.

  That is what had been missing from all her interactions with the opposite sex. Fun.

  Perhaps she didn’t wish to break social rules as much as she just wished to relax and enjoy.

  Then again, looking at Hart, she wouldn’t mind making a few minor transgressions for the sake of learning.

  That thought made her smile as she took his arm, allowing him to escort her out to the carriage.

  The group made their way to the gardens. It was still spring, but the tulips were in full bloom and they began to tour the various beds, her hand tucked into Hart’s. Abigail lifted her face to the sun, allowing the warm rays to heat her cheeks. It was the sort of thing that her mother would chastise her for. She’d freckle, her mother would say. Or worse, burn. A lady did not act so basely.

  Abigail smiled up at the sun as her eyes drifted closed, Hart’s strength under her arm. He slowed his step, allowing Daisy and Chance to move further ahead of them.

  “Feel good?” he asked quietly.

  “Divine,” she returned, her pulse jumping at his voice even as she kept her eyes closed. “I don’t know what precipitated this outing, but I’d like to thank you for it. It’s so wonderful.”

  “You’re welcome,” he answered as he continued to slow. “This was Daisy’s idea.”

  She nodded. She’d assumed. But she also knew that he’d agreed when he didn’t have to. “I still appreciate your participation.”

  He gave a quick nod. “I liked your father. Seems like a very nice fellow.”

  Abigail nodded. “Oh. He is.”

  “And your mother. She was very quiet today.”

  Abigail didn’t answer immediately. “A rarity of which I intend to take full advantage.”

  He chuckled at that. “She spends a great deal of time worrying over you.”

  Abigail shook her head. “It will change once I’m successfully wed.”

  “Is that why you wish to wed so quickly?”

  Abigail opened her eyes and adjusted her bonnet to once again properly cover her face. She wished to marry. Truly. But she’d like to go about the process on her terms.

  Looking over at him, she drew in a breath. She talked of herself a great deal in their brief relationship, and she didn’t need to say more. “Most likely. What about you, though? Do you miss your parents?”

  Hart stopped, looking at her then. “Very much.” His expression was guarded though not closed, his gaze wary as a slight frown marked his mouth and brow.

  Her hand tightened on his arm, sympathy making her chest heavy. “I would too. Even though my mother drives me mad.”

  He smiled at that, his face relaxing. “She hardly gives you any peace.”

  Abigail returned his smile, noting he’d turned the conversation back to her. “We’ll get on much better when we don’t live together.”

  His smile slipped. “I agreed to help you find other suitors. You understand that I am not a suitor myself.”

  She nodded, though a niggle of disappointment slid down her spine. “I know. And I appreciate all your efforts. Thank you. It’s more than you need to do, and someday, I shall find a way to repay you.”

  His brow quirked. “Payment?”

  Something sizzled in the word. It was a bit dangerous and definitely exciting. “I was thinking more of a favor to you.”

  “I see. A boon?” He leaned closer, the heat from his body seeping into her skin causing a flush to climb up her neck.

  She nipped at her own lip as she nodded. “It’s the least I can do.”

  He cleared his throat as they started walking again, several other parties also moving through the gardens. She kept her gaze down, sure anyone who saw her face would know how the marquess flustered her.

  “Are there limits on what I can ask?”

  She released her lips as she looked up at him, her mouth parting in surprise. “I suppose there are.”

  “You suppose? Would you care to be specific?” He gave her a teasing grin, his eyes sparkling in the sun.

  Her brows lifted. “What are my restrictions? Only two balls, correct? And apparently a single dance at each. And now one walk through the garden. Whatever you ask for your boon should be commensurate with that.”

  He tapped his chin. “True. So if I want a larger boon, I need to give more now.”

  Something inside her beat with excitement, her stomach fluttering with nerves. “Give more? Such as?”

  “If I’m not mistaken, you also wanted lessons in flirtation…”

  Her hand tightened as she clamped her lips tight to keep from gasping. She leaned closer, dropping her voice. “My lord. You might be overheard.”

  His brows rose as he looked down where her bosom now pressed to his arm. “Everyone is engaged in his or her own conversation. And I must say, leaning close like that is an excellent place to start in terms of showing your interest.”

  She straightened blinking. This was a dangerous road they’d turned on, though, she had to confess, one she wished to be travelling.

  No man made her feel as breathless as this one. Which made him ideal to learn the subtleties of expressing interest in suitors. But it also meant he was the most dangerous. With him, she wanted to toss the rules away and just feel.

  She’d wanted an opportunity to break the rules and let go just once. Was this it?

  Her fingers tightened on his arm. “What sort of boon might you wish to collect?”

  He shook his head as his other hand brushed her gloved fingers. “It’s difficult to know now. Perhaps I’ll need a good word from your husband or…”

  The idea of him referring to her future husband made her shift further away. There was a part of her who wanted to dispense with caution and allow herself to be swept somewhere else…but talking of her marriage to another man grounded her in all the rules to which she was bound. “Perhaps we’re going about this all wrong. Is there some way I could repay you now?”

  He raised his brows and his gaze took on a devilish glint. “Hmmm. I might have an idea or two.”

  Hart was going to hell.

  As he looked down at Abigail, all his carefully made plans fell apart. He was supposed to remain aloof. He was not submitting to his sister’s matchmaking attempts specifically and marriage pressures in general.

  He had a life to maintain. One where he did as he pleased and lived outside the tight ring of the ton.

  One where he stayed away from the people who weren’t tainted so he didn’t ruin them.

  He shook his head. That wasn’t it, his motivations were far more selfish. Hadn’t his own father told him so? He had certain tastes. Proclivities. And they didn’t involve a wife and children. At least not now.

  And besides all of that
, he wasn’t meant to be around such ladies. His father had warned Hart not to allow his filthy lifestyle to leach out onto Daisy. Hart’s chest constricted in pain.

  But as he looked down at Abigail, his reasons seemed to fade away like night gave way to the dawn. She was so lovely.

  What he’d first mistaken as a lack of personal attributes was actually just a kind and sweet woman. She was easy to talk with and he relaxed every time she was near.

  He shook his head. He ran an illegal club. He gambled, he drank, he ran with women who had few moral codes. He did not need a wholesome debutante for a wife.

  But the idea of spending a bit more time with her…of teasing out a bit of the depths he saw flashes of inside her, filled him with a light excitement.

  When had anything in his life felt light? Not for a long time.

  And while he still didn’t intend to marry her, he found himself wanting to prolong their time together, deepen their interactions.

  “What ideas do you have? For a boon?” she asked, her voice breathless as she pressed closer again. He could almost feel her heart beating against his arm.

  She was excited too.

  Which only heightened his own interest.

  “Hmmm,” he said as he turned down another path, moving toward a quieter section of the garden. “Let me think.”

  He lifted his chin, looking up as he pretended to consider. “I don’t need any repayment for the balls, truth be told. I shall have to marry some day and it’s good that I reacquaint myself with them.”

  “I see,” she said, but he heard the change in her voice. It had cooled.

  He winced, realizing why she’d be upset. Had she harbored some hope he might choose her?

  He looked down at her, feeling a sort of temptation that surprised even himself. “Abigail.”

  She shook her head, looking at a bed of flowers. “It’s all right. I asked you for a favor, one I had little right to ask, and you’ve been more than kind. I don’t need any explanation.”

  It was beyond kind of her to say.

  But even more surprising was the answer that rose to his lips. His reasons were not about her. She was…perfect.

  It was him. How could he ever explain what a dark man he was to someone so full of goodness and grace?

  The very idea of it pained him.

  But he also didn’t want her to think he was rejecting her.

  “I’ll tell you what. I shall teach you how to tempt a man beyond reason. And in return…”

  “Yes?” she asked, those soft pink lips parting again.

  “In return, I’d like to be the first man to kiss you.”

  She gasped, her eyes widening. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  Her lips closed again as she turned her head to the side looking up at him. “You wish to kiss me?”

  “Yes,” he answered as he found himself leaning closer.

  “Then, I accept.”

  He leaned back a bit, honestly surprised at how easy that had been. A debutante knew the possible consequences of kissing.

  But he’d not question his luck now and sliding a hand up her arm, his fingers curled around her neck and jaw as he leaned closer. “Excellent.”

  “In exchange for instructions on flirting.”

  “That’s right.” He leaned closer.

  Her brows lifted even as her pulse beat erratically under his thumb. “Don’t you think you should give me a few lessons before you take payment?”

  He blinked in surprise and then a laugh burst from his chest.

  It was the most wonderful feeling.

  When was the last time he’d laughed like that? He couldn’t remember. “Technically, I’ve already given you two lessons. One on using your eyes and the other on how to touch a man by leaning in.”

  She nodded. “True. But surely that’s not enough to help me change my fate.”

  “We’re changing your fate, are we? Perhaps I should have asked for more than a kiss.”

  She brought her free hand up, her fan that had been dangling from her wrist now gripped in her palm. She tapped his chest with the instrument. “Any more than a kiss and both our fates will be changed. Even agreeing to that I…” Her voice tapered off.

  She was right. Which left him with a burning question. “Why did you agree?”

  She shook her head. “I just…”

  Her tongue came out to wet her lips. He’d have to tell her that was also an excellent tool to add to her growing arsenal. “What?” he asked.

  She leaned very close, her bosom pressing to his arm even as her scent wrapped about him. He loved her scent, that spicy vanilla with a hint of citrus. “Sometimes, don’t you just wish to do what you ought not?”

  Every muscle in his body clenched at her whispered words and his manhood turned to granite. There had been a spark between them, there was no doubt. But her whispered words lit a fire in his veins.

  Was his sweet, good, light debutante telling him that she wished to be improper?

  That was most certainly a desire he could fulfill.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Two nights later, Abby found herself twirling about the Fairfield ball in the Earl of Winston’s arms.

  And before that it had been the Baron of Elderberry, and prior to that, Sir Waldon Price.

  In fact, her dance card was nearly full.

  Which had never happened before, and she’d realized several pertinent facts. Dancing with men meant far less time next to her mother. A state she enjoyed a great deal.

  But the gentlemen’s company ranged from fair to poor and while she tried her best to bat her eyes, and stare longingly into theirs all the while brushing her hand down their arms, she found herself watching the door.

  Because the one man she truly wanted to hold her had yet to arrive.

  Hart.

  Something had shifted between them. He was far less surly and far more thoughtful when he wasn’t being downright dashing.

  And their talk of kisses…

  She’d thought of little else the past few days. She’d find herself dreaming about actually kissing him at the oddest times and the funniest places. Like right here on the dance floor while in another man’s arms.

  Strangely, her mother was still silent. Not that Abigail was complaining but it did lead her to wonder what her father had said precisely to facilitate such a long stretch without constant haranguing.

  But that was a question for tomorrow. Or perhaps the next day.

  Because out of the corner of her eye, she caught Hart across the dance floor, standing taller than everyone around him and staring directly at her.

  She nearly tripped on Lord Winston’s feet as he spun her while her gaze was still on Hart. But she managed to catch herself and finish the dance. Granted, it took all her concentration but as Lord Winston returned her to her mother, she found Hart waiting for her at her mother’s side.

  Her pulse jumped, her heart raising up in her throat as she said her farewell to Lord Winston.

  “Lady Abigail,” Hart rumbled taking her hand.

  “My lord,” she replied, dipping into a curtsey.

  Without a word, he started to tuck her hand into his arm moving toward the floor. “My lord?” she asked, not moving.

  He turned to look at her, one brow quirking. “We’ve a date to dance, do we not?”

  A smile tugged at her lips. “We do.”

  “So I thought I might collect.”

  “My apologies, Lord Hartwell, but this dance is already taken.” And she slid her hand slowly from his elbow.

  “Taken?”

  She leaned in. “If you’d arrived earlier, you’d have had more choice.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Your dance card is full?”

  She flipped the card over. “No. I have one waltz open. Shall I write in your name?”

  He straightened as her actual partner approached, hesitating when he saw Hart’s large stature and glowering face.

  “I’m to wait?” He gave th
e other man such a fierce scowl that the gentleman took a half step back.

  Abigail had a moment’s twinge. Would he leave again? But there was nothing to be done for it. She could not deny a partner now, it was beyond rude. And besides, there was something the tiniest bit fun about denying him. “I’m afraid so.” It was a bit daring and dangerous all in its own right.

  She lifted her hand once again, sliding it along the back of his arm, using her body to block the gesture from the crowd. Then she looked up at him through her lashes. She was employing the very strategies he’d taught her, so he knew what she was about, but it didn’t make it any less fun. “You will wait, won’t you?”

  “I’m tempted to go,” he rumbled but he didn’t move away. In fact, if she wasn’t mistaken, he leaned into the touch.

  “Well,” she said in a low voice meant to convey intimate secrets. “If you wait, your obligation will be done. You’re already here.” Abigail moved even closer, allowing her breast to brush his arm. “And then you can collect your boon.”

  She felt his muscles tense under her touch. “Fine,” he answered, his jaw clenched so that he spoke through his teeth. “I’ll just be here keeping your mother company.”

  She covered her mouth with her hand, suppressing a giggle. To her amazement, his harsh expression softened as well, the corners of his mouth tugging up. She slid her hand down his arm, releasing his elbow and then she took a step back. “Best of luck.”

  He caught her hand as she was about to step away. “Hurry back.”

  She gave a quick nod before she pulled her hand away and met her partner. Two more dances before the one with Hart. They’d be the longest two dances of her life.

  Hart watched her, attempting to stifle the jealously rising like bile in his throat.

  Abigail sparkled tonight.

  Like a diamond in the candlelight, she outshined everyone around her. He shifted, cursing under his breath.

  “You know, my lord, I’m sure there are other ladies who might wish to dance with you,” Lady Montgomery said as she also watched her daughter.

  Hart’s teeth snapped together as his jaw clenched. “I don’t wish to dance with anyone but your daughter.” It was the truth, of course. But it also painted a picture that wasn’t true. Technically, he hadn’t wanted to dance with Abby either. Daisy had forced the issue. But he couldn’t very well say that either. Besides, he needed to maintain the façade of interest that would enable Abigail to make the most of this opportunity.