Dare to Be a Duchess, page 7
“Well, is it true?” The duchess turned to Lara and raised a sharp brow.
But before Lara could reply, she heard Camille say from behind her, “There you are, Lara. Anne and I had to enlist Wolverton’s help to find you, and you’ve been in the ballroom all along.”
Camille and Anne each stood by her side with Wolf right behind them. While the two girls had broad smiles and pretended like nothing untoward had occurred, Wolf looked like he had swallowed a nail.
Anne gave her a naughty wink and took her brother’s arm, ignoring the thundering expression on his face.
Lara smiled at her friends. From the corner of her eye, she found Amelia glaring at her. What was her problem? They never interacted, so why was she behaving like she wanted to pull her hair out?
Ignoring her, Lara focused on what the duchess was saying.
“Wolverton, Lady Paxton didn’t believe it when I told her you were in attendance tonight, and she had to see it for herself,” the duchess declared, giving Lady Paxton a jubilant look.
“Your Grace, it’s a pleasure to finally see you taking up the responsibilities to your title seriously,” Lady Paxton said to Wolf. “You know my daughter Lady Amelia Pemberley.”
Lara bit her lip, resisting the urge to laugh. From the corner of her eye, she saw Camille and Anne do the same. The woman thought Wolf was here, finally at a ballroom, looking for a bride, and she was presenting her daughter to him like a prize mare was presented to a stallion.
Amelia gave her most gracious curtsey to the duke. Wolf bowed and raised her.
“Charming as you and your daughter are, I’m afraid that you have a misconception,” Wolf told Lady Paxton, looking supremely annoyed. “I’m here only because of my sister. Her smallest wish is my command, and since she requested my presence tonight, here I am, for her.”
Lara did not miss the dark look Wolf threw at Anne, nor did she miss the color staining Anne’s cheeks.
“I don’t plan to make my attendance a habit at such events,” Wolf added.
“Such a pity, Your Grace,” Amelia simpered from his side, batting her eyelashes at him. “Nevertheless, I do agree that most of these functions tend to become tedious. The same people, the same dancing, the same music.”
Amelia was such a liar. Lara wanted to slap her smug face. Amelia reveled at such functions and attended them for all the attention she garnered, and here she was behaving as if she was too refined for such events.
“The hour gets late, and it’s time for us to make our farewells.” Wolf’s voice rang loud and clear as he spoke to his mother.
“But—” the duchess began.
Wolf cut her off. “We will be waiting for you in the carriage. Anne, Lara…”
Having no choice but to give in, the duchess moved forward, whispering with Lady Paxton and Amelia.
Anne exchanged a worried glance with Lara, and saying their farewell to Camille, they followed Wolf outside.
Lara caught Anne’s hand, squeezing it. “Just be strong and stand up to him. He is only human, you know.”
Anne gave her a small smile. Wolf paused and glared at Lara, but Lara couldn’t care less. Without giving him another look, she took Anne’s hand and marched out to fetch their cloaks.
Just before she turned the corner, she looked over her shoulder back into the ballroom.
The Earl or Paxton was watching her.
Chapter Ten
The silence in the carriage on the ride home was deafening. Anne sat sandwiched between Lara and the duchess, fidgeting with the folds of her gown, her foot tapping against the floor. Lara felt sorry for her. She was bound to be nervous about her imminent talk with her brother. Hopefully, Wolf didn’t give her too hard of a time when they reached home. The duchess sat on the other side of Anne, staring out the window, not talking at all.
And sitting across from them all was Wolf…who hadn’t stopped staring at Lara since the ride began.
Ignoring him, she turned her attention to the passing sights outside her window, her thoughts whirling. Twice tonight, Wolf had looked at her like he wanted to consume her whole. And the second time, he had kissed her like his life depended on it. But when reality had returned, he had been angry. At her.
Lara couldn’t see how this was her fault. He had kissed her. She had already forced herself to put the masquerade encounter behind her. In fact, she had convinced herself that his kisses had been nothing to fawn about. But now, after tonight and the devastation his mouth had created…a shudder went through her even thinking about it. Would she ever look at him again and not think of his mouth on hers?
She sneaked a peek at him and found him still watching her.
Slowly, as if unable to help himself, his eyes moved to her mouth and stayed there. Heat flooded her face, but Lara couldn’t look away.
“Miss Ramsay,” the duchess hissed in a loud voice. “If you would be kind enough to exit the carriage, the rest of us can head home.”
Lara snapped her attention to the duchess, who was staring daggers at her. The coach had stopped, and Lara hadn’t even noticed.
The duchess’s gaze flitted from her to Wolf and then back to her again, and her expression soured.
Before anyone could say anything else, Wolf stepped out of the carriage and held his hand out to her. Lara slipped her hand into his and climbed down, attempting to hide her face, which felt like it was on fire.
Wolf fell in step with her and followed her to right up to the door. Once they were out of sight of the carriage, he neared her, crowding her into the shadows.
“I haven’t forgotten how you managed to help my sister escape tonight,” Wolf said. “You promised me at Madame Delacour’s you wouldn’t do anything to hurt Anne.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I didn’t do anything to hurt her, Wolf. Radmore is in lo—”
Wolf halted her words by putting a gloved finger against her lips. His gray eyes turned to liquid metal as they focused on her mouth, and her breath got stuck in her throat.
His finger traced her lower lip in a light caress that she felt all the way to her toes. Blood roared in her ears as awareness washed over her. Without thinking, she drifted closer to him.
For a long moment, tension hung between them. Wolf dropped his hand, slowly dipped his head, and hovered there, just out of reach. Her breath shuddered from her lungs, and she closed her eyes, needing him to press his lips to hers and take away the ache growing in her chest.
“I was right,” he rumbled. “You are nothing but trouble.” Exhaling, Wolf backed away. “I will see you soon, Lara.”
She stood rooted in place as he strode away, her body trembling. That had been close. Too close. And yet, not close enough. Why could she not get enough of the infuriating man?
As soon as she was able to gather her wits, Lara entered the house and leaned against the door. She pressed a shaking hand against her rapidly beating heart. What in the world was she going to do about this accursed attraction she felt toward the one man in the whole of England who was off-limits to her?
…
“Wake up, Lara!” a familiar voice chirped in her ear.
“Go away. I want to sleep,” Lara muttered, putting a pillow on her head.
“Oh no! It’s been two days since. We need to talk!”
Lara recognized Camille’s voice a second before her friend grabbed the pillow off her head and turned to open the drapes. Sunlight spilled over her face, and she sat up, stretching her arms.
“Cammy, it’s so early in the morning and I haven’t been sleeping well. Couldn’t you have waited a little later to make an appearance?” Lara grumbled.
Camille leveled her with a frosted look. “You’ve been avoiding me.”
“Of course I haven’t,” Lara said. A lie, of course.
She desperately wanted to talk to Anne about what had happened between her and Radmore in the orangery. She even wanted to ask her how her conversation with Wolf had gone the next morning. But visiting Anne’s house was out of the question. She didn’t trust herself to be anywhere near Wolf. He’d kissed her twice now, and she’d not confided in her closest friends about it because it still felt unbelievable that he’d done so.
So she’d hidden from them.
“Really? Then why have you missed the last two balls? I sent you so many missives, and you haven’t responded to any. I would have come earlier to visit had I not been caught up with my aunt and cousin who were visiting from Paris.”
Lara seized the opportunity for a distraction. “Did they bring you any of the latest fashion plates?”
“Of course, I’ve pored through them already, so I’ve left them for you there.” Camille pointed to a side table in Lara’s room. “Anyway, that’s not why I came.” She climbed on the bed to sit next to Lara. “What happened that night between you and Wolf?”
Heat rushed to her face. “Nothing,” Lara replied, looking at her hands.
“I don’t believe you. I saw how he kept staring at you. No, something happened, and I want to know what.”
Lara wet her lips, at a loss for words. She never kept secrets from Camille or Anne, but lately that’s all she’d been doing. And doing it poorly, if Camille had seen right through her. Hopefully, Anne was still in the dark. The best she could do now was give Cammy just enough to sate her curiosity.
Carefully, Lara related her encounter with Wolf, leaving out the part of him kissing her.
“Anne hasn’t attended the last two events, either. I hope she’s not in trouble,” Cammy bemoaned.
Lara did, too. Her thoughts had been such a riot of confusion and desire that she could only imagine how Anne felt. She’d been unable to sleep. Thoughts of Wolf had kept her up most of the night. Was it the same for Anne with Radmore? Each time Lara shut her eyes, she recalled that look of pure desire on Wolf’s face before he had kissed her. And then the way he had caressed her lips outside the house, as if he hadn’t been able to help himself…
Even now, thinking about him, the same tingling, mind-numbing weakness enveloped her like when she had been in his arms and held against his chest—his strong arms and his rather hard chest. Was the rest of his body as hard as his chest? Her teeth pressed against her lower lip. What would he look like without his clothes on? Would he be as sculpted as the statues of the Greek warriors she’d seen on the Elgin Marbles in the British museum?
“Lara,” Camille said, breaking her out of her reverie.
Heat rushed to her face. Was she imagining Wolf without his clothes on? She winced. This was madness.
“What’s wrong with you? You haven’t heard a word I said,” Camille scolded her.
“Sorry, I’m just tired.”
Cammy eyed her. “What have you not told me?” When Lara only stared at her, she arched a delicate brow. “I have all day to wait.”
Sighing, Lara said, “He kissed me.”
“Who?” Camille’s eyes widened, and she put her hand on her mouth. “Oh. My. God! Wolf kissed you?”
Lara nodded.
“That is unbelievable!”
“Twice now,” Lara blurted, refusing to look at her friend.
“Twice?” Camille gasped. “When did you two start getting along? Last I knew, you didn’t even like each other.”
“We didn’t, and we don’t,” Lara answered. “It all started at the masquerade. He found me there, and we were talking, and I knew he was looking for Anne, and then I saw Anne kissing Radmore, so I pulled Wolf into an alcove and then I…”
“What?” Camille asked, sitting straighter.
“I kissed him.”
“I knew I missed out on that masquerade,” Cammy grumbled. “I can’t believe you kissed him. What were you thinking?”
“Well, I didn’t stop to think then. I had to protect Anne from Wolf catching her red-handed, which of course didn’t work because he saw them. I only distracted him a bit.”
Camille folded her arms in front of her. “And what happened at the Ravenborough’s?”
Lara bit her lip. “Can we just forget it?”
Camille stood up and put her hands on her waist. “Lara Ramsay. As your best friend, I demand to know what happened that night.”
“At the ball when Lady Merridale fainted, I was talking to Wolf as per the plan, and with all the jostling, I almost fell, but he caught me, and I was pushed into his arms. He nearly kissed me right there in the ballroom. But then he came to his senses and at once realized Anne was missing, so he dragged me to the garden, and we fought, and the next thing I knew, his mouth was on mine. Once and then again and again,” Lara finished in a rush.
Camille sat down next to her, her eyes wide as saucers. “He was about to kiss you in the ballroom? Good Heavens! Why would he behave like this? Why with you? This is so unlike him. It doesn’t make sense.”
“That’s exactly what I’ve been asking myself. Why me? It’s like after the masquerade, he is seeing me for the first time, as a woman I mean. It’s just so strange. But that’s the only explanation I have.” Panicked, she grabbed Cammy’s hand. “You cannot tell Anne. Promise me. She will be furious with her brother, and I don’t want this to ruin her chances with Radmore. She needs Wolf on her side.”
“I promise. For now. But you will have to tell her eventually.”
Lara sighed. “I know. And I will, once her own situation is sorted out.”
They both lapsed into silence, and then Camille looked up, a cheeky smile on her face. “How was it?”
“What?” Lara asked, startled.
“The kiss. Or should I say kisses?” Camille gave her a naughty wink.
The tips of her ears burned. “They were…dreadful. I’m certain he’s the worst kisser ever.”
Camille narrowed her eyes. “Really? I’ve heard that he is an exceptional lover and that women scream in ecstasy when he makes love to them.”
Oh my. Her heart sped. No, she didn’t need to hear this. She didn’t need to know about Wolf’s skills in the bedroom. Yet she heard herself ask, “And where did you hear that?”
“I overheard two ladies talking about him in the retiring room at a ball last year.”
“And which ladies were these?”
“I didn’t see them. I just heard them. They didn’t know I was there. They were vividly comparing lovers, and they went on and on about Wolf and his prowess in the bedroom.”
Now her mind spun images of Wolf in bed without his clothes on. Blast it all! She shook her head. This was not happening. And yet, the corner of her mouth threatened to turn up in a smile.
“So, was it really that dreadful?” Camille batted her eyes at her.
Lara gave up and grinned. “Oh, all right. It was deliciously sinful.” When Camille opened her mouth, she raised her hand. “I’m not saying more because I don’t want to think about it as I’m definitely not repeating it. It was Wolf for heaven’s sake.” She stood up, signaling the end of the discussion. “I’m going to ring for my maid.”
After Lara finished dressing, they left her room to go to the breakfast parlor.
Camille held her hand stopping her. “You cannot let it happen again. You cannot even think about it. Be careful around him, please.”
“I will.”
Wolf, however, had woven himself into her thoughts both waking and sleeping, and Lara couldn’t stop thinking of him. She needed to revert back to the previous tone of their relationship in which they only argued and fought and at the end of which she walked away disliking him so much that she would never want to talk to him. That was the only way to get over this recent fixation.
Her mind made up, she entered the breakfast parlor in a bright and cheerful mood. Uncle Robert was seated at the table, reading his morning paper.
“Uncle Robert,” Lara exclaimed in delight, rushing to him. He’d spent the last week at their country estate and stud farm, Castle Manor. “You’re back.” She gave him a huge hug, which caused him to spill the tea all over his morning paper.
“Dear girl! When will you ever learn?” he chided, laughing. “You know we English never comport ourselves in such a manner. It seems that teaching you restraint has been a waste of my time all these years.”
“Well, Uncle Robert, you forget, I’m only part English.” Lara shrugged and sat beside him, waiting for a footman to hand her the usual plate of scrambled eggs and toast.
“Good morning, Lord Robert,” Camille greeted, taking a seat beside her.
“Lady Camille, it’s a pleasure. Would you care for breakfast?” Uncle Robert asked with a warm smile.
“No, thank you, my lord. I’ve eaten already.”
Lara looked up at Uncle Robert’s beloved face. He was an older version of Wolf, though with deep brown hair that was now liberally threaded with gray. He had raised her as his own ever since she was orphaned, after her parents had tragically passed away within days of one another in India. Uncle Robert had taught her all about horses, and she had developed her healing touch from him.
Uncle Robert was well aware that Lara had very few friends in the ton, and hence he never minded if Camille and Anne visited her any time they pleased. He was just wonderful, and Lara was blessed that he had taken her in when she had needed a father figure the most.
Lara had to accept that she was a tad bit spoiled because of the free hand he had given her. But he hadn’t wanted to crush her spirit ever, and because of him and Anne and Camille, she tolerated living amongst the barbs and innuendoes of the others in the ton.
Camille began an elaborate discussion on the latest Parisian fashions, and Lara listened to her, rapt. Her friend was the epitome of fashion, and Lara loved her sense of style and color. Many times, Camille had helped her design her gowns, and the result was always spectacular.
A footman approached Uncle Robert with a note on a salver.
Lara and Camille watched as he read it. An invitation to a ball, perhaps? News from the ton?
