Persuading Patience Page 5

  August got to his feet, still deep in thought, and was crossing the hallway when a knock sounded at the front door. Sighing and wondering who on earth would be so ill-mannered to call at this hour of the morning, he waved back the servant who appeared at the top of the kitchen stairs and opened it himself.

  “Good Lord,” he said, finding Miss Pearson on his doorstep as if he’d conjured her with a thought.

  “Good Lord,” she echoed, looking wide-eyed and rather startled.

  August frowned and looked down, realising that she was staring at the bright yellow Banyan he’d thrown on to break his fast. It was a rather glorious thing that reminded him of sunny days and always lifted his spirits. It seemed to make Miss Pearson a trifle queasy.

  “Did you actually buy that?” she demanded, her eyebrows raised in astonishment. “Or was it a gift … from a Cyprian, perhaps?”

  August bristled. He was damned if he was going to admit it had been a gift from a rather wealthy lover. “Did you decide to throw propriety to the wind simply to insult me, or was there something you wanted?” he demanded, glaring at her.

  “Well, naturally there’s something I want,” she said with a tut of impatience. “So if you would let me in, before the entire population of Bath sees me on your doorstep.”

  August gaped at her but found he was too intrigued to turn her away. He stood back and she hurried inside. He glanced outside to see that the Circus was indeed empty at this hour. Thank God. The last thing he needed was a rumour about him and the dragon lady.

  “Well?” he said, folding his arms and staring at her. What the devil she was doing here, he simply couldn’t fathom.

  Miss Pearson narrowed her eyes at him. “Could we go somewhere a little more discreet?”

  August tutted, but moved away, opening the door to the parlour and gesturing for her to go in. “While we’re on the subject of fashion,” he added, still feeling aggrieved about her slight to his taste. “That colour pink looks wretched on you.”

  “Thank you so much,” she replied, her tone rather tart, though he thought there was amusement in her eyes.

  “You’re most welcome,” he replied with his most charming smile. “I feel I should also advise you to stick to blue and green, or neutral tones. I’m told I have something of an eye for fashion.”

  To his irritation, she cast a doubtful glance at the yellow banyan but at least held her tongue this time. “Thank you,” she said, with no trace of sarcasm. “I shall certainly consider your advice.”

  August looked her over with curiosity. She seemed a little ill at ease all at once, and he wondered what she was about. Coming to see him, alone and unchaperoned, would certainly ruin her if it was discovered, and, old maid or not, she couldn’t want that. So what was it she did want badly enough to risk it?

  “Well then?” he asked, folding his arms and discovering he was rather pleased by her growing trepidation. If she’d wanted to beard the lion in his den, she’d have to face the consequences. “I assume there is a reason for this rather shocking lapse in propriety? I admit I hadn’t thought you capable of taking such a risk. Surely all your maidenly sensibilities are screaming in horror at being all alone with me in such a way. Anything could happen,” he added, with a tone designed to unsettle her. To his annoyance, it seemed to have the opposite effect, and she merely stood a little taller, looking him straight in the eyes.

  “You don’t have the slightest idea what I’m capable of,” she retorted with considerable heat. “You don’t know the least thing about me, in fact. You just look at me and see a spinster. You assume I’m a dull and joyless creature who has no ambitions for anything beyond a quiet life.”

  August shrugged, hoping he looked nonchalant and disinterested, as in truth he was rather intrigued. What the devil was she getting at? “And?” he said, his tone bored. “What of it?”

  She sucked in a breath and he had the impression that she was about to say something momentous. “I want to strike a deal with you.”

  August felt his eyebrows hit his hairline. “A deal?” he repeated, incredulous. “What kind of deal?”

  Miss Pearson looked away from him and walked around the room. She paused for a moment before stopping before a particularly ugly picture that he’d already decided had been painted by the owner himself. There was no other reason for keeping something so appalling. “Dear me,” she muttered, wincing before turning her back on it and retracing her steps.

  “Well?” he asked again, earning himself an impatient glare.

  “I’m getting to that,” she said, folding her arms about herself and looking rather uncertain all at once.

  “Are you in some kind of trouble?” he demanded, taking a step closer, as no other reason for seeking help from a man like him came to mind.

  “No!” she retorted, those hazel eyes flashing with indignation. “Certainly not.”

  August raised a hand in defeat. “Very well. But in that case you’ll have to explain yourself, as I certainly can’t guess.”

  Miss Pearson sighed and nodded. “As I said, I wish to … to strike a deal with you. We are having a picnic, the day after tomorrow. There are a number of guests invited but I have, so far, refused to add your name to the list.”

  “If you’ve simply come here to insult me …” August said, nettled, and folded his arms to try and resist the urge to shake the wretched creature.

  “If you’ll let me finish,” she spoke over him, an imperious tone that made him button his lip despite his annoyance. “I said, so far, I’ve refused to invite you. Caroline is still cross with you over your appalling rudeness to Lord Nibley and so she won’t lift a finger on your behalf, I assure you.”

  August glowered a little, but nodded. “That was badly done of me,” he admitted, still feeling a trifle guilty for snapping at poor Nibley in such a manner. “Though it was all your fault,” he added, feeling his temper rise again.

  “Yes, of course it was,” Miss Pearson replied, giving him a look that made him feel about a foot tall. “Because you’d never been rude in your life before, until you crossed paths with me.”

  “I never said …”

  “Oh, do be quiet,” she said, holding her hand out and silencing him. August discovered he was too astonished to remonstrate. With terrible accuracy, he suddenly recalled a nanny that had looked after him one summer. Happily, she hadn’t lasted long, as she’d scared the pants off him. Of course, it could have been the frog spawn in her slippers that had sent her off screaming. “I can’t possibly explain this if you don’t keep quiet,” Miss Pearson added, looking really rather frustrated.

  “As you wish,” August replied, his jaw so tight he could hardly get the words out, in any case. “I’ll not say another word.”

  Miss Pearson let out a breath. “I am prepared to change my mind about your invitation,” she said, and August watched a little colour come to her cheeks as she spoke. “But I want something in return.”

  August waited. He’d said he’d hold his tongue and he was damned if he’d make it easier for her. He simply stared at her, arms folded.

  “I want you to kiss me again.”

  For a moment, August thought he must have misheard her. Surely? There was no possible way that Miss Pearson, stickler for propriety and guardian of her sister’s honour, was standing in his parlour, alone, and demanding to be kissed. One of them had run mad.

  August blinked. He’d promised to hold his tongue, it was true, but now, he seemed to have swallowed it.

  “Well, say something,” she demanded with a huff of impatience.

  “You told me not to,” August replied, finding his voice a little faint. He cleared his throat. “Just … just so we’re clear. Did you … did you just ask me to kiss you?”

  Miss Pearson rolled her eyes. “Yes.”

  “And in return, you’ll allow me to court Miss Bridges?”

  “No!” she exclaimed, her eyes wide with revulsion. “Nothing of the sort. I said that I would invite you to the picn
ic.” She began to pace, sending him the occasional sideways glance as she spoke. “Let me be abundantly clear, my lord,” she said, raising a finger at him. “I will in no way promote a match between you and my step-sister. You are a notorious rake and a libertine and I doubt you could be faithful for more than five days in a row. I will continue to do all in my power to thwart any attempt on your part to get in Caro’s good books. However, if you would like the opportunity to be in her company, I’ll give it to you. On this occasion.”

  “In return for a kiss?” he said, still quite unable to get his addled brain to understand that was what she really wanted.

  “Yes,” she said again, looking really impatient now. August just stared at her and she coloured further, her cheeks flushing hard. It was actually rather flattering to her, she needed a little more colour about her. “I know that … that you must be, well, certainly scandalised.” Miss Pearson looked away from him and stared at her toes for a moment before meeting his eyes again. “Horrified, too, no doubt,” she added with chagrin. “However, I …” Stopping, she swallowed hard and August was appalled to see tears gathering in her eyes. “I have become accustomed to the idea that I will never marry. I am an independent woman and I have never felt that it was too dreadful a hardship to live my life for myself. I still don’t,” she said, a touch of defiance in her eyes now. “However, I had never really thought about the fact that I would never … never …” The colour in her cheeks grew ever more pronounced and August raised his eyebrows at her. “Well, you know,” she hissed, waving a hand at him. “The idea had never bothered me. Not at all. Until … until you kissed me.”

  Silence filled the room, taut and uncomfortable and August prayed she’d speak again as he didn’t have a word in his head. She was quite right, he was scandalised. He was scandalised, intrigued, and experiencing an uncomfortable surge of desire that prickled beneath his skin. It was quite unaccountable. He did not desire Miss Pearson. Yet he was a man, and here was a woman demanding he kiss her … Nature had a lot to answer for.

  “It’s just a kiss,” she said, her tone rather quieter now. “Just to make that perfectly clear. Furthermore, I don’t expect anything from you, but I assumed that … that after last time, you would not find the idea too dreadfully repulsive. However, if I’m wrong about that …” She broke off, her voice quavering a little as August could do nothing but stare at her, mute with shock. He watched as she swallowed and shook her head, moving towards the door.

  “Wait.”

  Miss Pearson paused, turning to look at him again. She looked vulnerable now, anxious and uncertain, and for some reason he couldn’t fathom, August didn’t like to see it.

  “If you want me to kiss you, we need to be in the same room, you know,” he said, his tone surprisingly gentle considering his usual desire to wring her neck.

  She blinked, a look of surprise in her eyes now. “You’ll do it?” she said, the faintest glimmer of a smile curving her mouth. It was a very full mouth, he realised as his eyes were drawn to it, a perfect Cupid’s bow, and a rather lush bottom lip.

  “Come here,” he said, deciding he may as well make the most of it. It was likely the only time he’d be able to get Miss Pearson to do as he bid, so he may as well enjoy it. She put down her reticule and began to move towards him. “The bonnet must go,” he said, waving a revolted finger at the offensive article. Honestly, did the woman have no eye for fashion? “And the pelisse.” Her eyes widened at him and for a moment he thought she was going to argue, her mouth parting, the words almost visible before she’d even spoken them. But then she bit that full lower lip and tugged at the ribbons of her bonnet. Placing it beside the reticule, she also removed her gloves, and her pelisse. The dress was the same unflattering pastel pink as the coat and he shook his head. “Never wear that colour again. If you must wear pink, make it a strong colour. These insipid pastels are not for you.”

  “Very well,” she murmured, staring at him with curiosity and not moving an inch.

  “If you want to get what you came for, you’re going to have to get closer,” he said, quite unable to keep the amusement from his voice.

  “Oh. Yes,” she said, sounding a little startled. She took a breath and moved towards him, until she was less than a foot away. August reached out a hand and placed it on her waist, pulling her forward until the distance closed between them.

  “You’re sure,” he asked, finding he wanted to prolong the moment. There was no way she was going to back out now. Her eyes were dark with desire, her mouth parting a little in anticipation as she leaned into him. “Very well, then,” he murmured. “You asked for it.”

  Chapter 6

  “Wherein temptation creates an unsettled heart.”

  August leaned in. He took his time, savouring the way her breath came faster, her hands clutching at his arms as though she might fall off a precipice if she let go. Strange, how anticipation thrummed in his blood, and then his lips touched hers and he remembered why that was. It was akin to a lightning strike, and it jolted him just as much as it had in the grotto. He pulled away and sucked in a breath, his lips hovering beside hers but not quite touching as he drew her body closer. She gave a little gasp but didn’t object, and he allowed one hand to slide lower, resting on the generous curve of her hip. She was really very curvaceous beneath the rather unflattering gown she wore, all softness and plump welcome. Not at all the dried-up spinster he might have assumed lingered under that hideous muslin.

  Lowering his head again, he was a little startled when her mouth opened to him unbidden, greedy for more. Good Lord. She was lucky that he wasn’t quite the libertine that people made him out to be, or she could find herself in a deal of trouble. Nonetheless, the desire to lay her down and teach her everything that she would be missing from life was tantalising and harder to resist than he could possibly have expected. Instead he concentrated on her mouth, which was really no hardship. She was a quick study, this prim miss. The first lesson he’d given had been learned with ease it seemed, as tongue slid and danced alongside his. One hand moved from his arm, sliding up his neck to clutch at his hair as she had before. As he deepened the kiss further, she responded, pulling him down to her as a fire lit beneath his skin.

  August could do nothing but respond to her, his hands dropping further to the swell of her behind as he pulled her against him. Surely this was too much, a faint voice chimed in his mind as his hold on sanity slipped. Miss Pearson gasped as his arousal had to be only too evident now, but she did not pull away. Good God, this was a kind of madness. It was Miss Pearson, for heaven’s sake! Yet nothing could have stopped him in that moment. Her hands explored him, one still clutching at his hair as the other slid beneath the silk dressing gown she had so disparaged, smoothing over his chest. She pressed a little harder against him and August was forced to hold back a moan of desire.

  Marchmain, pull yourself together, man, he cursed himself, to no avail. Her mouth was a drug, her body made for such intimacies as this, and it occurred to him with no little shock that it was a crying shame that she would never marry. At that thought, what little grasp remained on his sanity reasserted itself and August drew back, breaking the kiss. There was no way on God’s green earth that he was going to get caught by Miss Pearson and marched to the altar. She needed to leave. Now. He would have let her go and stepped away, put some distance between them for safety’s sake, but she still had a tight hold on both his hair and his shirt, so it was rather impossible.

  He looked at her and could not but admit to a masculine swell of pride. Her eyes were wide and glassy, the pupils so dark and full they swallowed the hazel. Those lush lips were red and swollen and she was breathing hard, and he realised she was clinging to him to keep herself on her feet. As he watched, she hauled in a breath, steadying herself before she released her hold on his hair and stood back a little. After a moment, she let go of his arm, too, and raised one trembling hand to her own hair, smoothing it back into place.

  “Thank you, m
y lord,” she said, her voice a little unsteady but clear enough. She turned away from him and put on her pelisse and bonnet, picking up her gloves and reticule. Turning back to him, it appeared she was fully in control of herself once more, and she met his eyes without so much as a blush. “I will have the invitation sent to you later today. Good day to you.”

  To August’s astonishment, she walked away from him, as cool and imperious as ever, and without a backwards glance. As the door closed, August stared at it in silent shock. “Well,” he said, searching for an appropriate curse to send after her, and found himself at a complete loss.

  ***

  Patience hurried away from the house on the Circus, casting furtive glances back and forth and thanking providence that she appeared to have gotten away with it. Now that the deed was done, the enormity of the risk she’d taken pressed down on her, crushing her lungs until she felt she could barely draw a breath. What on earth had she been thinking? She must have been out of her tiny mind. And yet …

  Yet that kiss had been … glorious. Good Lord, no wonder he was renowned for being such a rake, any woman who had tasted a kiss like that would burn for more. The risks they might run to experience it again … to discover more.