Sarah froze, too stunned to struggle, the sensation of his hard body against her back, his arm wound
like steel about her waist, holding her fast, driving all rational thought from her brain. Then his breath wafted the curls around her ear. His words came in a deep and husky tone, sending tingling shivers up and down her spine.
"Well, sweetheart, there's very little between us now. So, perhaps we can turn our attention to our relationship?"
Sarah, all too well aware of how little there was between them, wondered in a moment of startling
lucidity how he imagined that would improve her concentration. But Darcy's attention had already wandered. His lips were very gently trailing down her neck, creating all sorts of marvellous sensations which she tried very hard to ignore.
Then, he gave a deep chuckle. ''As I've been saying these weeks past, my dear, you're wasted as
a virgin. Now, if you were to become my mistress, just think of all the delightful avenues we could explore."
"I don't want to become your mistress!" Sarah almost wailed, testing the arm at her waist and finding
it immovable.
"No?" came Darcy's voice in her ear. She had the impression he considered her answer for a full
minute before he continued, ' 'Perhaps we should extend your education a trifle, my dear. So you
fully appreciate what you're turning down. We wouldn't want you to make the wrong decision for
lack of a few minutes' instruction, would we?"
Sarah had only a hazy idea of what he could mean but his lips had returned to her throat, giving rise to those strangely heady swirls of pleasure that washed through her, sapping her will. "Darcy, stop! You know you shouldn't be doing this!"
He stilled. "Do I?"
Into the silence, a nightingale warbled. Sarah held her breath.
But, when Darcy spoke again, the steel threading his voice, so often sensed yet only now recognised, warned her of the futility of missish pleas.
"Yes. You're right. I know I shouldn't." His lips moved against her throat, a subtle caress. "But what
I want to do is make love to you. As you won't allow that, then this will have to do for now."
Sarah, incapable of further words, simply shook her head, powerless to halt the spreading fires he was
so skilfully igniting.
Afterwards, Darcy could not understand how it had happened. He was as experienced with women as Max and had never previously lost control as he did that night. He had intended to do no more than
reveal to the perverse woman her own desires and give her some inkling of the pleasures they could
enjoy together. Instead, her responses were more than he had bargained for and his own desires stronger than he had been prepared to admit. Fairly early in the engagement, he had turned her once more into his arms, so he could capture her lips and take the lesson further. And further it had certainly gone, until the moon sank behind the high hedges and left them in darkness.
How the hell was he to get rid of her? Max, Lady Mortland on his arm, had twice traversed the terrace. He had no intention of descending to the shadowy avenues. He had no intention of paying any further attention to Lady Mortland at all. Lady Mortland, on the other hand, was waiting for his attentions to begin and was rather surprised at his lack of ardour in keeping to the terrace.
They were turning at the end of the terrace, when Max, glancing along, saw Caroline come out of the ballroom, alone, and walk quickly to the balustrade and peer over. She was clearly seeking someone. Emma Mortland, prattling on at his side, had not seen her. With the reflexes necessary for being one
of the more successful rakes in the ton, Max whisked her ladyship back into the ballroom via the
door they were about to pass.
Finding herself in the ballroom once more, with the Duke of Twyford bowing over her hand in
farewell, Lady Mortland put a hand to her spinning head. "Oh! But surely…"
"A guardian is never off duty for long, my dear," drawled Max, about to move off.
"Perhaps I'll see you in the Park, tomorrow?" asked Emma, convinced his departure had nothing to
do with inclination.
Max smiled. "Anything's possible."
He took a circuitous route around the ballroom and exited through the same door he had seen his ward use. Gaining the terrace, he almost knocked her over as she returned to the ballroom, looking back over her shoulder towards the gardens.
"Oh!" Finding herself unexpectedly in her guardian's arms temporarily suspended Caroline's faculties.
From her face, Max knew she had not been looking for him. He drew her further into the shadows of
the terrace, placing her hand on his arm and covering it comfortingly with his. "What is it?"
Caroline could not see any way of avoiding telling him. She fell into step beside him, unconsciously following his lead. ''Sarah. Lizzie saw her leave the ballroom with Lord Darcy. More than twenty
minutes ago. They haven't returned."
In the dim light, Max's face took on a grim look. He had suspected there would be trouble. He continued strolling towards the end of the terrace. "I know where they'll be. There's a summer-house deeper in the gardens. I think you had better come with me."
Caroline nodded and, unobtrusively, they made their way to the summer-house.
Max pushed open the door, then frowned at the empty room. He moved further in and Caroline
followed. "Not here?"
Max shook his head, then bent to pick up a knot of ribbon from the floor.
Caroline came to see and took it from him. She crossed to the windows, turning the small cluster this
way and that to gauge the colour.
"Is it hers?" asked Max as he strolled to her side.
"Yes. I can't see the colour well but I know the knot. It's a peculiar one. I made it myself."
"So they were here."
"But where are they now?"
''Almost certainly on their way back to the house," answered Max. "There's nowhere in this garden suitable for the purpose Darcy would have in mind. Presumably, your sister convinced him to return
to more populated surroundings." He spoke lightly, but, in truth, was puzzled. He could not readily imagine Sarah turning Darcy from his purpose, not in his present mood, not in this setting. But he
was sure there was nowhere else they could go.
"Well, then," said Caroline, dusting the ribbon, "we'd better go back, too."
"In a moment," said Max.
His tone gave Caroline an instant's warning. She put out a hand to fend him off. "No! This is absurd- you know it is."
Despite her hand, Max succeeded in drawing her into his arms, holding her lightly. "Absurd, is it? Well, you just keep on thinking how absurd it is, while I enjoy your very sweet lips." And he proceeded to
do just that.
As his lips settled over hers, Caroline told herself she should struggle. But, for some mystical reason,
her body remained still, her senses turned inward by his kiss. Under gentle persuasion, her lips parted
and, with a thrill, she felt his gentle exploration teasing her senses, somehow drawing her deeper. Time seemed suspended and she felt her will weakening as she melted into his arms and they locked around her.
Max's mind was ticking in double time, evaluating the amenities of the summer-house and estimating
how long they could remain absent from the ballroom. He decided neither answer was appropriate. Seduction was an art and should not be hurried. Besides, he doubted his eldest ward was quite ready
to submit yet. Reluctantly, he raised his head and grinned wolfishly at her. "Still absurd?"
Caroline's wits were definitely not connected. She simply stared at him uncomprehendingly.
In face of this response, Max laughed and, drawing her arm through his, steered her to the door.
"I think you're right. We'd better return."
Sanity returned to Sarah's mind like water in a bucket, slowing filling from a dripping tap, bit by bit,
until it was full. For one long moment, she allowed her mind to remain blank, savouring the pleasure
of being held so gently against him. Then, the world returned and demanded her response. She
struggled to sit up and was promptly helped to her feet. She checked her gown and found it perfectly
tidy, bar one knot of ribbon on her sleeve which seemed to have gone missing.
Darcy, who had returned to earth long before, had been engaged in some furious thinking. But, try
as he might, he could not imagine how she would react.
Like Max, it had been a long time since young virgins had been his prey. As she stood, he tried to
catch a glimpse of her face in the dim light but she perversely kept it averted. In the end, he caught
her hands and drew her to stand before him. "Sweetheart, are you all right?"
Strangely enough, it was the note of sincerity in his voice which snapped Sarah's control. Her head
came up and, even in the darkness, her eyes flashed fire. ''Of course I'm not all right! How dare you
take advantage of me?"
She saw Darcy's face harden at her words and, in fury at his lack of comprehension, she slapped him.
For a minute, absolute silence reigned. Then a sob broke from Sarah as she turned away, her head
bent to escape the look on Darcy's face.
Darcy, slamming a door on his emotions, so turbulent that even he had no idea what he felt, moved to rescue them both. In a voice totally devoid of all feeling, he said, "We had better get back to the house."
In truth, neither had any idea how long they had been absent. In silence, they walked side by side,
careful not to touch each other, until, eventually, the terrace was reached. Sarah, crying but determined not to let the tears fall, blinked hard, then mounted the terrace steps by Darcy's side. At the top, he
turned to her. "It would be better, I think, if you went in first."
Sarah, head bowed, nodded and went.
Caroline and Max regained the ballroom and both glanced around for their party. Almost immediately, Lizzie appeared by her sister's side on the arm of one of her youthful swains. She prettily thanked him and dismissed him before turning to her sister and their guardian. "Sarah came back just after you left to look for her. She and Lady Benborough and Mrs. Alford have gone home."
"Oh?" It was Max's voice which answered her. "Why?"
Lizzie cast a questioning look at Caroline and received a nod in reply. "Sarah was upset about
something."
Max was already scanning the room when Lizzie's voice reached him. "Lord Darcy came in a little
while after Sarah. He's left now, too."
With a sigh, Max realized there was nothing more to be done that night. They collected Arabella and departed Overton House, Caroline silently considering Sarah's problem and Max wondering if he was going to have to wait until his friend solved his dilemma before he would be free to settle his own
affairs.
CHAPTER SIX
Max took a long sip of his brandy and savoured the smooth warmth as it slid down his throat. He stretched his legs to the fire. The book he had been trying to reach rested open, on his thighs, one
strong hand holding it still. He moved his shoulders slightly, settling them into the comfort of well
padded leather and let his head fall back against the chair.
It was the first night since the beginning of the Season that he had had a quiet evening at home. And
he needed it. Who would have thought his four wards would make such a drastic change in a hitherto well-ordered existence? Then he remembered. He had. But he had not really believed his own dire predictions. And the only reason he was at home tonight was because Sarah, still affected by her
brush with Darcy the night before, had elected to remain at home and Caroline had stayed with her.
He deemed his aunt Augusta and Miriam Alford capable of chaperoning the two younger girls between them. After the previous night, it was unlikely they would allow any liberties.
Even now, no one had had an accounting of what had actually taken place between Darcy and Sarah. But, knowing Darcy, his imagination had supplied a quantity of detail. He had left Delmere House at
noon that day with the full intention of running his lordship to earth and demanding an explanation. He had finally found him at Manton's Shooting Gallery, culping wafer after wafer with grim precision. One look at his friend's face had been enough to cool his temper. He had patiently waited until Darcy, having dispatched all the wafers currently in place, had thrown the pistol down with an oath and turned to him.
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