Marquess of Diamonds: Lords of Scandal Read online

  Which clearly, she was doing.

  The little minx had touched him and batted her eyes the way any seasoned flirt might. Only her lashes fluttering at him was making him increasingly mad with the need to pull her into his arms.

  He’s cursed himself a thousand times for asking for that boon.

  When he’d been home alone, he’d asked himself why he’d abandoned his principles. But standing here watching her now, he understood.

  He wanted Abigail in a way he hadn’t desired a woman for a very long time.

  She was like an itch just under his skin that he couldn’t seem to scratch.

  Shifting, he wondered if taking that kiss was going to make him feel better or worse. Did it matter?

  He knew he would kiss her anyway.

  Her dance finally finished, and he watched as another partner claimed his opportunity. His spine straightened as he resisted the urge to stalk out there and take her back for himself. To do so would be to make a public declaration that he knew was a mistake. He’d end up married for certain.

  So he remained where he was, stationed next to her mother.

  “These parties are dreadfully boring when you’re no longer looking for a partner,” the countess murmured.

  He looked down at the woman next to him, realizing for the first time, what a resemblance Abigail bore to her mother. “Indeed. I’ve never cared for them.”

  “I used to love them,” the woman said, her gaze still on Abigail. “But they’ve lost their shine.”

  “What happened?”

  The countess’s features tightened. “I grew older, I guess. I care less about other people’s attention and then, my husband hates them and rarely attends with me.”

  Hart half turned toward her. “He does, does he? But you still come?”

  The countess shrugged. “I likely won’t once Abby is married. But it’s my obligation to do so now.”

  Something in her words struck him. Perhaps it was the way she’d changed after her marriage or the fact that her husband had been so different from her to begin with. “Marriage and children are the biggest obligation of them all.”

  Her smile was knowing as she looked up at him. “Neither is true in my estimation.”

  Hart blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Leaving our home to be out amongst the ton, that is an obligation. Being with my daughter and husband is my greatest joy, even if every moment isn’t easy.”

  Who was this woman and what had happened to the countess he’d met at the last ball? “But…” His brow furrowed. “I’ve seen you and Lady Abigail. It seems…” Did he say contentious?

  The countess’s eyes widened. “Well. She is growing into a woman. And one who is different from me.” The countess raised her chin. “Even if I don’t agree with her, it doesn’t mean I don’t love her.”

  Hart was not entirely certain how he felt about this little heart-to-heart they were having. Would his father have said that if given a chance? “Why are you telling me all this?”

  The other woman looked back out on the floor. “My husband pointed out that Abby will marry soon.” Then she looked back at Hart. “Might even be you.”

  It wasn’t going to be him.

  “And she’s going to leave and not return.” The other woman swallowed. “It’s time I stopped trying to hold onto her quite so tightly.” Her fists clenched together as though she wished for the very opposite. “And what’s more, I’d hate to irritate her future husband.”

  “Your husband pointed out all that?”

  The countess gave a quick nod. “We’re opposites, my husband and I but…” Her hands relaxed. “The longer we’re wed, the more I realize how much I need a perspective that is so much different from my own. It provides a great deal of clarity and peace.”

  That last word struck Hart. Peace.

  The dance was ending, and Abby made her way back toward him. Would being with someone like Abby bring him peace too? He sucked in a deep breath.

  Was that even possible?

  Abigail reached his side and slipped her hand around his elbow. “I’m ready now.”

  He looked down at her upturned face, warmth sliding down into his gut at the sight of her smile and her sparkling blue eyes. “Why don’t we give you just a moment? You must be tired after all the dancing you’ve done.”

  Her eyes widened as her fingers tightened. “That’s very thoughtful.”

  “Perhaps we’ll walk around the edge of the floor first while you recover?”

  She nodded as he started about the crowded ballroom. The truth was, while he did care about how she felt this evening, he had another motive. He needed a few moments to speak with her. Not about anything in particular just about… Hell. He didn’t know.

  Would she?

  CHAPTER NINE

  As Hart skirted the edge of the crowd, Abigail thanked her lucky stars they hadn’t gone out on the dance floor. She was tired from all the dancing and maneuvering around the guests, and now she was pressed close to his side, the hard lines of his body in stark contrast to her much softer angles.

  It wasn’t until they stepped out onto the veranda that Abigail wondered if they’d dance at all.

  Not that she minded. But the agreement had been for two dances. Did this count? If there was no second dance, what about their kiss?

  But her thoughts stopped spinning as he led her toward a low fence, leaning against a stone pillar. “There. How’s this for a resting place?”

  “Oh, it’s lovely,” she said looking up at him in the moonlight. “But we’re going to miss our second dance.”

  “So we are,” he murmured, tugging off a single glove. And then his bare fingers slid down her arm. Her sleeves were short, and his fingertips skimmed along her skin. She sucked in a breath, as tingling spread down the limb and settling between her thighs.

  “Hart?” she asked in a whisper, his name dancing on her tongue.

  “Oh, Abby,” he replied, dropping his mouth close to her ear. “You shouldn’t use my name like that.”

  She froze. “Have I offended? I’m sorry. I—”

  “No.” He chuckled and then his lips lightly brushed the lobe of her ear sending a shower of sensations coursing through her. “I am a rake. Did you not know? We’ve been dancing along the edge of intimacy for some time now but if you’re not careful, we might just fall into the abyss.”

  Her heart throbbed as her body pulsed with need. Did he not know that sounded wonderful? “And what if we do?”

  He rumbled deep in his throat, but he was so close that it echoed through her. In a quick movement, he pushed off the pillar and with a glance around, started down a dark path that led them into the shadows.

  “You’re becoming quite the temptress,” he said and then pulled her into his arms. The moment her chest touched his, she forgot to breath. One thought beat through her with the pounding of her heart. This was where she belonged.

  She rested her hands on his chest as she looked up at him again. “I have an excellent teacher.”

  He dropped his mouth to within an inch of hers. “If it’s all right with you, I think I shall collect my boon early.”

  She’d barely nodded when his lips brushed hers. She wasn’t certain what she’d expected but the light touch of his lips was not it. The effect, however, was devastating. She gasped, grabbing his lapels as he repeated the touch. Every part of her rose to the call his lips seemed to issue. She’d never felt more alive as the blood rushed in her ears.

  Lifting his head, he looked down at her in the dark, his expression nearly unreadable though she could feel the intensity in the tautness of his body. “Have I frightened you away yet?”

  Her knees were weak, her breath ragged, and her heart hammered in her chest. But she’d never been less afraid. “Frightened?” she asked, her tongue passing over her lips. “If this is being wicked, I want more.”

  He groaned as he kissed her again. But this time it wasn’t a light brush but a firm press of his mo
uth. And then when he slanted her lips open, his tongue swept in between her lips, touching the tip of hers.

  That’s when Abigail knew that she’d never be the same.

  Her body jolted with desire as she melted into him.

  Abigail understood in that moment that there would never be another man for her. Hart was the one.

  The very idea of allowing anyone else to touch her like this?

  It was ridiculous.

  But this was just a boon. Granted, she’d also been dreaming of an illicit kiss like this forever.

  With that in mind, she coiled her hands about his neck, pulling him closer as he kissed her over and over.

  By the time he finally pulled away, they were both breathing raggedly, their bodies pressed together from shoulder to knee.

  “Hart?” she asked, wondering why he’d stopped. She wasn’t sure she wanted him to ever stop kissing her.

  “The set is nearly over,” he whispered, taking her mouth one more time in a kiss that lingered. “I have to return you to your mother.”

  She blinked up at him. “Now?”

  He chuckled as he brushed his lips over the tip of her nose. “I’d like to stay here all night too but not only do you need to return…I have another appointment.”

  “Oh.” Her stomach dropped. Was it at the club? With his friends? Another woman? She’d neither seen nor heard of another, but that didn’t mean Hart didn’t have someone else. After all, she doubted he’d confide in Daisy about his affairs. Abby bit the inside of her cheek, reality dawning on her. He was a powerful marquess who was doing his sister a favor.

  And there was the consequence of being wicked. There was no promise between them. In fact, he’d gone out of his way to insist there was no future at all and meanwhile, she never wanted another man to touch her ever again.

  She released his neck and she pushed back. “I knew I shouldn’t have allowed you to collect your boon before you’d given me both dances.”

  He pulled her back to him, holding her close, that nothing separated them but their clothing. The intimacy of their connection making her gasp all over again.

  “Our walk through the gardens and our stroll around the ballroom didn’t satisfy, did they?” he asked.

  She turned away, knowing that he was right. He’d given her all she’d asked for and more. But if the debt was collected, she’d not see him again.

  How would she manage that?

  She traced his shoulders with her hands, marveling at the strength in them. “So, this is it then?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” he said as he eased away, placing her hand back on his arm. She shivered at the loss of his heat as his words echoed in her mind. Something in them sounded rather final.

  She drew in a breath to argue but then sealed her lips again.

  If he didn’t wish to see her anymore, there was little she could say to change his mind. But letting him go was going to be more painful than she could ever imagine. “Thank you. For everything, Hart,” she whispered as they slipped back onto the lit veranda and into the ballroom. “I shall never forget tonight.”

  He didn’t answer but she could have sworn she felt him jolt. Was he upset too? Or just ready to say goodbye?

  As Hart made his way across town, he could hardly think about what lay ahead of him.

  Memories of the passionate kiss he’d shared with Abigail overwhelmed his mind.

  He groaned as he raked a hand through his hair. A woman who had never been kissed before should not be able to kiss like that. If he’d been on fire before, he was an inferno now, positively ablaze with desire.

  But he had to stop.

  Put distance between them.

  He scrubbed his face. Abigail wreaked havoc on his entire life. Take tonight.

  He was headed out to meet Lockton. The Scot had used his many connections in the underground to arrange for a large fight to take place tonight, the sort that would surely draw a crowd.

  And with any luck, Sir Thomas would be among the men gambling on the outcome.

  At least that was the hope.

  And Hart was already late.

  He was supposed to have met Chance at his home so they could travel together.

  What was more, he should be thinking through his strategy instead of dreaming about the softest lips he’d ever touched with his own.

  He cursed again, thumping his foot down on the floor of his carriage. He jerked off his tailcoat and tossed it aside, then donned a more casual jacket and cravat. Looking at the garment next to him, all he could see was Abby’s hands sliding over the fabric.

  Walking through the garden a few days ago, he’d lost his senses, which had continued tonight. But it was time to return to the real world. He was a rake and a debaucher. He’d not be good for Abigail. Hell, he’d hardly spent time with his own sister and aunt over the last several years. He was too rough for that sort. He’d crush them under the weight of his stare alone.

  Then again, Abigail didn’t seem the least bit concerned by his stare. In fact, she didn’t seem intimidated by him at all. Not his desires, not his surly nature, not his activities within the club, and not the weight of the marquessate, which hung about his neck like a noose.

  The carriage pulled to a stop at a warehouse off the docks and his footman snapped open the door. He stepped out, joining the crowd of men funneling in through the warehouse doors.

  The moment he stepped inside, he spotted Lockton. Hart was taller than most, but Lockton dwarfed him. The dark Scot gave him a quick nod and then leaned his head to the left, giving a subtle point toward the back left corner.

  Hart started through the crowd, trying to decide his next move. He had one man who’d told him that Sir Thomas had hired him. Of course, the fact that Sir Thomas had not returned to the club was also rather damning but not definitive evidence.

  But how could he prove that the man was responsible for the thefts? Cajole him to come back and catch him? Assume he was guilty and squeeze him for the money? Hart couldn’t turn him over to the police. His club wasn’t legal to begin with.

  Chance stepped up to his right. “There you are. What took you so long?”

  “I was busy.”

  Chance frowned. “Doing what? Dancing?”

  “No, actually.” He didn’t add that he and Abby had been too busy kissing to dance.

  “Daisy told me where you’d gone. Is helping Abby taking your attention from the club?”

  His gut clenched again as he thought of her parade of partners. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

  Chance chuckled at that. “Decided to keep her for yourself yet?”

  Hart stopped, looking over at him. “How am I going to keep her? You know me. I’m not fit for refined women, not even my own sister.” Guilt stabbed at him as his father’s words echoed in his head, words he’d spent endless years attempting to forget. The worst part was how right his father had been. After the death of his mother and father, he’d spiraled out of control and run up such debts with his behavior that he’d nearly destroyed the title as his father had feared. With Chance’s help, Hart had repaired his finances again, including investing in the diamond mine in India, but the darkness always seemed on the edge of his life waiting in the periphery for a moment of weakness.

  “You’re as good as any of us,” Chance said. “And she’d make you better. I’d put money on that.”

  Would Abigail make him better? He thought back to her mother’s words about opposites and how they worked together.

  That light hope he sometimes felt when he was with Abby filled him again. “What if you’re wrong. What then? What if I’m already married to her when I realize I’ve just placed her on a sinking ship?”

  Chance stopped giving him a long stare. “You know what your problem has always been Hart?”

  Hart’s breath froze in his lungs. That he was everything his father had accused him of becoming?

  “You don’t like yourself enough.”

  His brows lifted. “Really
? That’s the best you’ve got for me?”

  Chance gave him a one-sided smile. “Yep. Have a little more faith in yourself.”

  He shook his head. Those words burrowed deep under his skin. He hated that they rang with truth. “Can we please focus on what we came here for?”

  Chance shrugged. “Fine. What’s the plan?”

  “I was hoping you’d have one.”

  Chance nodded. “Corner him. Punch the truth out of him.”

  Hart jerked his chin. “I like it. Simple, straightforward and hopefully effective.”

  Lockton was moving through the crowd on their left and Hart spread out his arms and then closed them like a trap.

  Lockton nodded, seeming to understand without words. Hart liked that Scot.

  They kept moving closer, tightening the noose around Sir Thomas.

  When they were four men back, Hart caught sight of Sir Thomas pulling a decent-sized satchel from his jacket, stuffed with coin. “My bounty, gentlemen,” he boomed, several men laughing around him.

  Bounty? Was he now a pirate? Apparently, he was, and if Hart was right, he was the man from whom Sir Thomas had stolen.

  He let out a growl.

  Sir Thomas lifted the sack but almost immediately dropped it back down, his eyes fixed to Hart’s right. He’d spotted Lockton.

  Hart had to give him credit on one account. He was quick on his feet. With lightning reflexes, he broke to his own right, coming straight at Hart.

  Planting his feet, Hart caught Sir Thomas in his arms, lifting the smaller man off his feet. Twisting around, he slammed him down on the floor.

  He felt the air rush from Sir Thomas and then he gasped it back in. He still held the coin purse in his hand and Hart made a grab for it, but his hand was caught under Sir Thomas and before he could untangle it, the other man swung the bag back, striking Hart in the temple.