Seduced by a Dark Stranger...

First appeared on eharlequin website as an online read.  Brought out as a supplement to the series "Regency Silk and Scandal" which appeared from June 2010 to Jan 2011.  Each chapter was written by a different author, all of whom wrote books for the series.

"To Miss Felicity Morville, in London visiting her friend Lady Honoria Carlow, nothing could be more delicious than a rendezvous with a handsome stranger—sans chaperon! But when Honoria’s brother Hal realizes what Felicity’s been up to, he enlists the help of his friend and fellow Dragoons officer Benedict Ranworth to distract the young lady from the rogue by wooing her himself! Ben reluctantly agrees in the name of protecting Felicity’s virtue and reputation, but he doesn’t expect to enjoy his duties half so much. And soon, he finds himself more interested in seducing Felicity than in saving her!"

Chapter One

by Julia Justiss

Catching up the hem of her riding habit, Felicity Morville glanced behind her toward the bedchambers where the Carlow family lay sleeping, then tiptoed down the hallway. She’d almost reached the landing when a tap on her shoulder made her jump and utter a stifled shriek.

“Hush!” her best friend, Lady Honoria Carlow warned. “If you wake Verity, she’ll have Miss Price on us in a twink.” Clutching Felicity by the arm, she dragged her a few paces back down the hall and pushed her through the door into her bedchamber. “Now, talk to me! Where are you creeping off to at this hour? ’Tis barely past dawn!”

“Just back to the Inner Temple gardens to collect more of the herbs Mama asked me to send.”

“Sounds like a perfectly dull errand,” Honoria said, wrinkling her nose. “Oh, well, give me a moment and I’ll ride with you.”

Felicity tried to imbue her tone with the right note of nonchalance. “’Tis far too dull to drag you out. Besides, after dancing until dawn at Lady Ormsby’s rout last night, I thought you’d wish to stay abed later.”

Honoria laughed. “Me, fatigued by dancing late? Surely you know I’m not such a poor—” She stopped suddenly, her eyes narrowing. “All right, you can drop the ‘help poor Mama’ charade. What are you really up to?”

“No, truly, I’m going to the gardens,” Felicity replied, hoping the absolute veracity of her answer would convince her suspicious friend. “And I should like to be there and back before our day’s activities begin, so I really must be going.”

She stepped toward the door, but Honoria caught her by the sleeve, halting her while she studied her face. Feeling her cheeks heat, Felicity damned the fair coloring that accompanied her auburn hair.

“That blush says you’re up to something. Tell, tell! You can’t really mean to have an adventure and not let me share it!”

Knowing Honoria was unlikely to let her go without a full confession—and that if she delayed much longer, she might miss her rendezvous entirely—Felicity capitulated. “All right, but you must promise not to breathe a syllable. And I must leave within the next few moments, or all will be lost.”

“Explain while I get into my habit,” Honoria ordered.

Felicity smiled dreamily. Had it been only a week since she went there the first time…and met him? “As you know, Mama feared the girls might be scarred after the chicken pox. Before she sent me away to London, she asked me to search the physic gardens and send some comfrey back to Morville Hall, as Nurse swears ’tis the best restorative. Your Mrs. Hoby recommended the Inner Temple gardens, so I rode there last week. I was clipping herbs, putting them into my basket, when a sudden gust of wind blew some out of the basket and down the pathway. When I scurried to catch them, I ran slap into a gentleman who’d just rounded the corner!”

Honoria grinned. “A gentleman, eh? A handsome one, I’ll wager!”

“Indeed.” Felicity couldn’t prevent a sigh. “He’s quite the most handsome gentleman I’ve ever met. Elegant and immaculately dressed, with the most elaborate cravat and boots of such polished beauty, I swear my brother would kill to possess them. Tall of frame, his brow brushed by thick, wavy dark hair that makes one’s fingers just itch to comb through it! A strong jaw, classic nose and dark eyes with a gaze so intense, when he helped me to my feet, I could scarcely draw breath! He instantly apologized, though the collision was entirely my fault, then gathered up the herbs for me.” She sighed again. “He moves with such a lithe grace, ’tis a pleasure to watch him.”

Honoria turned her back to Felicity and motioned for her to do up the buttons of her habit. “Who is he? Some law clerk or barrister?”

“I don’t think so. His voice is quite cultured, with an intriguing lilt, and he speaks in the most quaint, courtly manner! I believe he’s Russian, attached to the emissaries sent to coordinate the campaign against the French.”

“You believe,” her friend repeated as she pinned her hat in place and snatched up her gloves. “But you don’t know? What is his name?”

“He wouldn’t tell me. He said that since my chaperon wasn’t there to properly make the introductions, he would remain, for a time, just my…friend and admirer.”

Honoria’s eyes widened. “Oh, Felicity, he sounds completely ineligible!”

Felicity laughed. “I know. Isn’t it delicious?”

Honoria laughed as well. “One can hardly fault you for seizing this opportunity to have an adventure with a dark, mysterious, handsome stranger!”

“Indeed. I’ll have to return to the safe, dull country soon enough.”

“Does he know your name?”

“No, but I told him I was staying with the Carlows. At first, he seemed much struck, but when I asked if he knew your family, he apologized and said he hadn’t yet gone about much in English society.”

“We’d best make haste, or you’ll miss your rendezvous.”

The girls hurried from Honoria’s room and hastily descended the stair. “You will stay well back, won’t you?” Felicity whispered. “If he sees someone with me, he may not approach.”

Honoria giggled. “Not English, but intelligent enough to know that meeting a young maiden without her chaperon isn’t at all the thing. Is he a rogue, do you think?”

“I don’t know that I could tell. He’s certainly charming.”

“Well, even if he is, he can hardly do you much harm in the middle of the Inns of Court, with solicitors and barristers and such passing back and forth. How many times have you met him?”

“This will be our third rendezvous.” Excitement and anticipation rose in Felicity at the thought of meeting her mysterious admirer again. “He’s agreed to look for me there each morning. I hope Robbie gets the horses saddled quickly. I can’t wait to see him again!”

“Nor I, to view this paragon!”

“From a distance,” Felicity said. “Promise me!”

“Oh, very well,” Honoria said. “From a distance.”

A short time later, the girls entered the maze of narrow streets that made up the city, then wound their way through to the Inns of Court. Stationing the groom with their horses at the entrance, they slipped inside, Felicity carrying her basket. They halted at the edge of a small knot garden surrounded by walls and hedges and accessed through an archway. “Stand just beyond here, and you’ll be able to peer through the shrubbery,” Felicity told her friend. She took a deep breath, eddies of excitement fluttering in her belly. “Wish me luck.”

She’d completed two circuits of the pathway when from the same direction in which he’d emerged the first day, the dark-haired young man rounded the corner. Seeing her, a smile lit his handsome face and he paced quickly toward her.

“Mademoiselle! My most beautiful and charming mademoiselle!” he cried, making her an elaborate bow. “My life has been a desert of desolation since last we met!” He held out his arm. “Walk with me, that I might nourish my starving soul upon your loveliness.”

If Mama ever learned she’d snuck out to meet an unknown young man, full of flowery speech and lacking any legitimate credentials, she’d be locked up for a month on bread and water. But it would be worth it, Felicity concluded, the titillating lure of the forbidden sending little eddies of delight through her as she laid her hand on his outstretched arm.

Chapter Two

by Julia Justiss

“You’re sure you saw your sister?” Lieutenant Benedict Ranworth asked his friend and army mate, Lieutenant the Honourable Hal Carlow, as they guided their mounts through the crowded city street. “You did imbibe rather freely whilst winning that last round from Charnsworth.”

“I’m not too disguised to recognize my own kin,” Hal retorted. “No, it was Honoria, and she had that friend of hers with her—the one who’s staying with us while her siblings recover from measles or chicken pox or some such ailment. Felicity Morville. You know, you met her when you came by last week.”

Ben had a vague memory of a petite lady with auburn hair and striking green eyes. “I suppose so. As a rule, I try not to look too closely at young ladies of marriageable age.”

“Good strategy,” Hal approved. “Well, it was them, that’s for certain. Though what in blazes they could be doing, heading off into the city at this hour, I can’t imagine. Why, it’s practically still night!”

“Well, no, it is in fact several hours after dawn—even if we are just now returning from our revels,” Ben corrected.

Hal waved a dismissive hand. “Since it’s Honoria, I’m betting they’re up to some scheme or other. I’d best make sure they don’t come to harm.”

“You, protecting a maiden’s virtue, rather than trying to seduce her out of it?” Ben gave a crack of laughter. “Now, that’s a new role!”

“It’s my sister we’re talking about,” Hal said severely. “Watching over the girls would be my elder brother’s problem, but Marcus is out of town. Though I don’t mean to interfere, if it’s just good fun. Honoria used to tag along with me when we were growing up, always game for any lark. It’s hard on her, being a young lady now and confined by all those rules.”

“Thank the Lord I’m a man,” Ben agreed with a shudder.

As they neared the Inns of Court, Hal pulled up. “Look, over there,” he pointed. “That’s our groom, Robbie, tending the horses. They must be nearby. We’ll have to continue on foot.”

“You don’t think they’ll see us?”

Hal shook his head. “If we can sneak behind French lines to reconnoiter Soult’s positions, two English schoolgirls aren’t going to catch us.”

Gesturing to one of the urchins loitering in the street, Hal dismounted and handed the boy his reins. “Watch our horses,” he instructed, tossing the lad a coin. “There’ll be another copper for you when we return.”

Using the passage of a heavily-laden wagon to shield them, they skirted the waiting groom. “As I recall, there’s a sort of garden in the center, behind those shrubs and that wall,” Hal said. “Let’s make our way to the other side.”

Beginning to enjoy the game, Ben followed his friend. During their stealthy trek around the enclosure, Hal silently pointed out his sister, Honoria, who was peeking around a large shrub into the courtyard within. Taking up a position far enough away so as not to excite her notice, Hal and Ben leaned down to peer over the stone wall.

Inside was a knot garden of assorted herbs surrounded by gravel paths. Strolling down the farthest path, arm-in-arm with a well-dressed, dark-haired man—and gazing raptly up into his face—was Lady Honoria’s friend, Miss Morville.

“Who’s the man?” Ben asked in an undertone.

“Devil if I know. It’s too far away to see his face clearly. But damn and blast, what’s he doing, handing my sister’s friend down some deserted pathway, and no chaperon in sight? I swear, I’ll rip his arms off!”

Hal leapt up, looking as if he intended to do so this very moment. “Wait!” Ben said, snagging him by the shoulder.

“What do you mean, ‘wait?’” Hal retorted angrily, trying to jerk free of Ben’s grasp. “It’s as plain as ears on a mule, that bounder is making up to Miss Morville!”

“Are you sure he’s a bounder?” At Hal’s withering stare, Ben said, “Yes, right: no chaperon, odd location far from fashionable London, bleeding edge of dawn; he’s a bounder for sure.”

“Are you going to let me go, or come with me?”

“What do you expect to accomplish, charging in there?” Ben asked. “Think, man! Most likely the blackguard will scarper off and the two will just find a way to meet again somewhere else. After all, that’s what I would do. Couldn’t you talk to your sister, persuade her that cozying up to some Macaroni merchant in the park ain’t a wise idea?”

“Since when did Honoria listen to any warning I delivered? Especially if I’m trying to talk her out of doing something outrageous.” Hal gave a rueful shrug. “She’s too much like me.”

“Well, how about if you distract Miss Morville,” Ben suggested. “An officer in the 11th Light Dragoons is far more dashing than some civilian.” Ben’s disdainful tone conveyed exactly what he thought of those lacking the daring and courage necessary to join Wellington’s army. “Why don't you woo her? Not seriously, of course. Just turn her head long enough for her to forget about the bounder."

“It could work,” Hal mused. “Except…knowing my views on marriage, Honoria would never believe I’d seriously pay attention to a proper young lady. But she doesn’t know you that well.” Grinning, Hal looked over at Ben. “Why don’t you bewitch the girl out of her attachment?”

Alarm bells, louder than the bugle call to charge, rang in Ben’s ears. “I wouldn’t want to arouse expectations I had no intention of fulfilling.”

"Don't you think you're clever enough to entice her without making any promises, and avoid being caught in a compromising position?” Hal demanded. “What kind of dragoon are you? Where’s your resourcefulness? Your ingenuity? Your, ah, gallantry toward a damsel in danger?”

“I didn’t say I couldn’t,” Ben replied stiffly. “I just don’t much like the notion.”

“It was your idea,” Hal pointed out.

While he cudgeled his brain for some equally effective countermeasure, Ben turned to stare at the distant couple in the garden. At that moment, the man lifted Miss Morville’s hand to his lips and kissed it fervently.

Both men uttered a snort of disgust.

With no better plan presenting itself, Ben said reluctangly, "Very well, I suppose I shall romance Miss Morville."

Chapter Three

by Louise Allen

“I have no invitation,” Ben protested as Hal waved the valet out of the door.

“Have mine. Lady Collingbridge will be just as happy to see you at the dance.” He studied Ben’s dress uniform. “You’ll do. Don’t know what it is about a uniform, but it’s magic with the ladies.”

“It’s a dance? I don’t like dances.”

“Yes you do. And, anyway, all you need to do is romance the girl, not stun her with your magnificent cotillion.”

“I suppose so,” Ben grumbled for the sake of it. The idea of romancing Miss Morville, who Hal accurately described as a tidy armful, more than made up for the thought of an evening on the dance floor.

“Now, what you need to—”

“Carlow.” Ben flung up a hand for silence. “You may be the worst rake in the 11th, but I am perfectly capable of flirting without your guidance.” He considered tactics. “How am I going to get rid of Honoria? She’ll be sticking with her friend, won’t she?”

Hal grinned. “Honoria will be flirting with all the most ineligible men, drinking champagne or doing something outrageous. Mama will be trying to watch her: she’ll be only too glad to see Felicity with a respectable man.”

Ben ignored the teasing sneer on respectable. “And what’s your excuse for dodging this?”

“An injured friend, as far as Mama is concerned. A new opera dancer called Mirabelle with a sprained ankle, for your ears only. Have a good time.” He went out and then put his head back round the door. “Don’t overdo it—being a best man is such a bore.”

Hal ducked laughing as Ben lobbed a shoe at him. The last thing he was going to do was get himself caught in parson’s mousetrap by a curvaceous red-headed minx.…

***

But she was a very attractive minx, he decided later, watching the ladies come down to the hall in a flurry of gauzes and fans. Lady Narborough smiled. “So kind of you to accompany us, Lieutenant Ranworth. Hal would have come, but he is engaged with a wounded friend.” Ben controlled his grin. “Lord Narborough’s health does not permit evening excursions.”

“Yes, thank you.” Honoria opened wide blue eyes at him and fluttered past on a wave of scent and illicit face powder.

He bowed to Miss Morville who lowered her lashes. Pretending butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth he thought, and was rocked back on his heels when she looked at him directly with clear green eyes that sent a frisson of awareness right down his spine. Hell’s teeth.

“Lieutenant?” He dragged his gaze away with an effort, but not until after he had seen the way her pupils had widened. He was not sure what had just happened, but it boded well for the evening.

“Ma’am.” He offered his arm and helped his little party into the carriage.

***

“A waltz, Lieutenant Ranworth?” Felicity bit her lower lip and saw him watching her mouth. “But I haven’t been approved by the Patronesses.” And the waltz was so new, and so daring.

“But you have danced at Almack’s?” His dark eyes were as intense, as mesmerising, as the ones that tormented her dreams. And Lieutenant Ranworth was even taller and broader than her secret friend from the garden. But not, of course, so romantically exotic.

“Oh yes. But not waltzes!”

He tucked her hand under his elbow and strolled in the direction of a sofa. “We can pretend: after all, who will know?”

“You, Lieutenant Ranworth, are a dangerous, bad influence.” Felicity tried to sound reproving, but suspected she merely appeared flustered.

“Dangerous? Of course.” He looked at her with a thrilling intensity.

Yes, definitely flustered. But it was a delicious feeling to be sitting here at a grand Society ball with a handsome man who was intent on flirtation. What excitements she was having—her secret friend was mysterious, Lieutenant Ranworth was dangerous.…

“But only a little,” he said, smiling at her in a way that made his eyes dance with mischief. He took her dance card and pencil. “Now then, that is the next set, the supper dance and the seventh set.”

“But those are all waltzes!”

“And I am the only man who is approved for dancing them with you.” A gentleman approached and Ben smiled at him. “Miss Morville’s card is full, sir.”

“It is not,” she whispered as the man looked at Ben, then swallowed, bowed and removed himself. “Lieutenant Ranworth—”

“Ben.”

“Ben. This is most improper! And besides, what am I supposed to do when I am not waltzing with you three times—which is quite shocking—if you are going to scare all my other partners away?”

“Talk with me, walk with me and flirt with me?” he suggested. “And I did not scare him off.”

“Yes you did,” she retorted, looking up at him. “You are so…tall, and in that uniform there is such a lot of you!”

“There’s a lot of me out of it,” he remarked. He seemed amused at her blush. Felicity tipped her chin and sent him a challenging look.

“What are you up to, Ben?”

“Entertaining myself with one of the prettiest girls here and, I hope, entertaining you, too. But if I am not, I will remove myself and leave you free to dance with all these fellows. Perhaps you fear a few wagging tongues. Forgive me for I thought you were like Honoria, a brave free spirit.”

“I am certainly as brave as she!” Felicity retorted, stung. “Why, I am meeting… I mean, I do as I please.”

“Then let us dance.”

By the third waltz Ben was only vaguely aware of the other people in the room. His attention was fixed on a red-headed pocket Venus who laughed at his sallies and made him laugh at her own ready wit: an intelligent woman who argued with him about poetry over supper, her face alight as she countered his aversion to Byron with dramatic quotations, and whose dancing made him want to hold her far closer than propriety demanded.

“No one has noticed us,” she said as he led her onto the floor.

“Yes, but they might.” Ben swirled her round, closer to the windows onto the terrace. “We’ll be safe out here.” And before she could protest they were out in the cool air, flagstones under their feet, the light from the ballroom creating mysterious shadows.

Dancing was all very well, but there was nothing like kissing to make an impression on a girl. And he wanted to kiss her very much.

“Ben, why are we out here?” The breathy catch in Felicity’s voice told him she knew why.

“So that I can kiss you,” he said, sweeping her behind a large shrub.

He was going to enjoy this, he thought, bending his head as he pulled her close. Her mouth was soft and sweetly innocent under his, and he moved his lips gently so as not to frighten her. Then she gave a little gasp and opened to him, not wantonly, but so naturally that it took his breath.

She tasted of cherries and a little of champagne. She smelled of roses and woman. Her hands slid up to his neck and he forgot to be careful, forgot everything but the need to kiss and be kissed, to learn her mouth, to discover her. He was aroused, hard and aching, but all he wanted was this moment, this kiss and the trust she was giving him.

Shaken, he lifted his head at last. “Felicity?” He touched her cheek.

“Oh my,” she said faintly. “Oh my goodness.”

Oh my goodness, indeed, Ben thought.  That was not the plan at all.

He reached up and took hold of her hands, which had been clasped about his neck, an apologetic look on his face.

“Gad, Miss Morville,” he said with a wry grin. “But you almost make me forget myself.”

As soon as he put that tiniest bit of distance between them, Felicity became aware of sounds coming from the ballroom—the faint strains of music, a tinkling laugh, the soft footfall of somebody walking past the open window that led out to this terrace.

Heavens, how could she have behaved with such abandon? If anyone had caught them, her reputation would be ruined!

Ben saw her dart a wary glance in the direction of the house. She was on the retreat! He could not let her slip through his fingers now. Hal was going to get his brother’s tame Bow Street Runner to find out just who and what the fellow was, but until then, it was his duty to prevent her meeting him again.

“Having an attack of nerves?” he taunted her.

“Of course not!” She lifted her chin. “You said I would be safe out here with you, Ben. And I trusted you to keep the line.”

He caught her round the waist, and drew her close again. “I have done nothing truly terrible, have I?”

Her moral code was crushed by the thrilling proximity of his body.

“No, not terrible,” she managed to say, though her voice was very breathy. Kissing Ben had been completely wonderful! The only trouble was that it was just a bit too wonderful. It made her crave more. Made her crave…things she was quite sure she ought not to even know about! “B…but it is time to go back inside now.”

She raised her hands to his chest, to push him away. But instead of doing anything so resolute, her palms flattened against his coat, then spread to either side, reveling in the broad expanse of masculinity.

“Not just yet,” he said coaxingly. “We have not arranged a time for us to meet again.”

“I am going to Mrs. Leeming’s rout tomorrow night. I shall see you there.”

Ben lowered his head as though going in for another kiss, and then, at the last moment, he pulled back. To his delight, Felicity made a moue of disappointment.

She had wanted the kiss he had teased her with, at least half as much as he wanted it himself.

“Tomorrow night?” He shook his head, then, slowly, lowered his head again, this time bypassing her mouth and pressing his lips to the side of her neck. She made a sound of helpless surrender, tipping her head to one side so that he could explore the delicious length of creamy skin.

“That will be no better than this!” he said between kisses. “A dance, a few snatched kisses… I want to be able to…talk to you, Miss Morville. Really talk to you.” It was no less than the truth. The time he had spent in her presence had all been sheer delight.

“No…” she moaned faintly.

“No?”

“I mean, yes…”

“Where then, and when?” he said, pressing her for a rendezvous whilst she was so befuddled she hardly knew what she was saying—and while he still retained sufficient self-control to remember the whole point of this exercise.

“Wh…when?” She looked up at him, her glorious green eyes dazed with passion. “When what?”

“When will you meet with me, so that we may explore more deeply—” he said, trailing hot kisses down her neck “—what we have begun here tonight. Can you get away tomorrow morning, early?”

He knew damn well she could. He had seen her with his own eyes in the Inns of Court garden with that other fellow!

She stiffened in his arms, a look of consternation on her face.

“I cannot. Not in the morning…”

“I thought you said you were as brave as Honoria,” he taunted her. He felt something inside him twist into a knot. But he had to do it. It was for her own good! She had to meet him in the morning, not that other fellow!

Her chin went up. “I am every bit as brave as Lady Honoria,” she said defiantly. “It is just…” She bit down at her lower lip.

He groaned.

And did what he had to do.

Kissed her again. This time, with no holds barred. He held her tight, and applied every bit of his expertise in seducing her mouth. He did not stop until she was clinging to his neck, her whole body trembling in his arms. He swore he could feel her heart pounding through the flimsy silk of her gown.

Or was that his own heart? Damned if he knew anymore.

“Miss Morville,” he groaned.

“Yes…” she breathed, her eyes closed, her head tipped back. She was limp in his arms. “Yes, I will meet you…in Green Park.”

“Thank God,” he murmured into her ear, clasping her to him in relief. Much more of that sort of persuasion, and she would be in as much danger from him as she could ever be from the dark stranger!

He had been on some dangerous missions in his time. But this one was growing a bit too hot, even for him.

“We had better return to the ballroom before somebody misses us,” he said.

“No, wait!” Felicity could not believe she had just agreed to a secret assignation with Ben. What had come over her? She had given her word to another, but one kiss from the dashing Lieutenant and all her moral values had flown straight out of her head! She would have to tell him that she could not go after all. That she had only said yes because…

And there her thoughts ran aground. She had known she would say yes to anything if he kissed her too often. And she dare not tell him that. What a spineless creature he would think her, to have her thoughts completely addled by what, to him, was probably nothing out of the ordinary. He had probably kissed dozens of girls. He must have done, to have become so good at it!

But he tucked her hand into the crook of his arm, and tugged her out from behind the cover of the shrub. And somehow they were walking across the flagged terrace, and back through the doors. And she had not managed to frame one coherent sentence.

“Until tomorrow.” He grinned at her as they stepped across the threshold and into the glaring brightness of the ballroom.

And then he was gone, swallowed up by the swirling throng of people. Giving her no chance to tell him she’d had second thoughts.

And she was left standing by the window, dazed, bemused, and more than a little vexed.

Chapter Five

by Annie Burrows

“So, how did it go? The opening sally of the Morville campaign?”

Ben had to stifle a spurt of anger before he could answer Hal’s jocular remark. It was bad enough having to toy with her feelings, let alone hearing his friend making a jest of it.

“Waltzed with her three times, whisked her out onto the terrace, and arranged to meet her tomorrow morning in Green Park without her chaperon,” he reported succinctly. “Even you would agree that could be regarded as a victory.”

Victory at what price, though? He felt a twinge of guilt. He had pushed her into doing something that she would never have done, had he not deliberately got her so befuddled that she hardly knew what she was saying.

It was small comfort, now, to remind himself that he had agreed to this charade to protect her. That romancing her was protecting her.

“Hang on, hang on.” Hal’s blue-grey eyes clouded. “You intend to meet her without a chaperon? Are you sure that was a wise move?”

“You had better explain exactly what you mean by that,” he said coldly. How dare Hal suggest he would do anything, anything at all, which would cause Felicity any harm?

Hal had his head lowered as he unbuckled his cross belt, and so remained impervious to Ben’s annoyance.

“The whole point of this exercise—” he said, tossing the belt onto a table “—was to distract the girl. You know, dazzle her with your wit and charm,” he said in an ironic tone. At any other time Ben would have risen to the bait and thrown something at him. Tonight, his friend’s attempts to tease him into that kind of retaliation fell completely flat. “The last thing you want is to get into some compromising position where you might end up obliged to make an offer for the chit,” Hal finished.

Ben’s chivalrous instincts surged to the fore when Hal referred to Miss Morville in such a derogatory manner. He was on the point of insisting his friend moderate the way he spoke about her, when it struck him that Hal had a point. Ben was already aware how dangerous she was, having just got into a very compromising position with her. When he looked back now on how far gone he had been… At one point, anybody could have walked smash up to them, and he would not have noticed. He had been so deeply entwined with Miss Morville, a whole troop of cavalry might have charged through the grounds and he would not have noticed.

So he laughed it off, saying, “Do you think me incapable of handling one small female?”

And then almost groaned. It was a mistake to make use of the word “handling” in connection with Miss Morville. Lord, how he wanted to handle her! He did not want to restrict himself to just sliding his arm about her waist, or holding her hand. He wanted the right to explore those luscious curves. To pull all the pins from that mass of intricately arranged hair and sift it through his fingers. Bury his face in it. Spread it out across his pillow, and…

He came to himself with a start to realize Hal was looking at him oddly.

“I would have thought you would have been pleased—” he said, rallying swiftly “—that I have managed to prevent her from meeting that other fellow tomorrow, at least! You told me to use my ingenuity. Be resourceful. And you must admit that if she is meeting me, then she can’t be meeting him!”

“There is that, I suppose,” Hal conceded. “That Hawkins chap—you know, my brother’s tame Bow Street Runner—he has not been able to find a single clue to tell us who the man might be. And that, in itself, makes me suspicious. Surely, he ought to have been able to pick up some trace of where he comes from? It is almost as though he is deliberately covering his tracks.” Hal looked at him hard. “You are right. She will undoubtedly be better off being romanced a little by you—a little light flirtation, a stroll round the park, and no harm done.”

Ben had no intention of wasting his stolen hour with Felicity in mere flirtation. He had every intention of kissing her senseless! From what he recalled of the layout, there were some benches, and a stand of quite mature trees at one end of the park—enough greenery to afford at least a little cover from prying eyes.

“But for the Lord’s sake—” Hal warned him “—don’t take any risks. In fact, now I think of it, since you had her promise to meet you well away from the Inns of Court garden, there is no need for you to actually turn up!”

“Nonsense,” he snapped. He had arranged to meet her, and he would go, whether she managed to nerve herself to attend the assignation or not. He could not bear the thought that she might sneak out, at his instigation, and hang around in the park, growing more and more upset. For him not to show would humiliate her!

“I fully intend to go, and take advantage of the hold I have over her to coax some information out of her.” It was better Hal think him a bit ruthless than totally smitten by Miss Morville. “Hawkins can discover nothing, you say. So I simply have to find out exactly how much she knows about the bounder. That would give Hawkins something to work on.”

“Interrogation by seduction, you mean?” Hal’s mouth curved into a wicked grin.

Once again, Ben got an almost overwhelming urge to obliterate that grin by planting Hal a facer. His hand had already curled into a fist before he thought better of it.

“It is for her own good,” he said, as much to remind himself why he was doing this, as Hal. “It is better for her to fall for me, than that rogue, is it not?”

“Oh, indeed.” Hal chuckled. “Besides being a positive pleasure, I would have thought, to have the excuse to dally with that tidy little piece.”

“Quite,” admitted Ben through gritted teeth. “Besides having given my word to do what I can to make sure she is not disgraced whilst living with your family,” he pointedly reminded Hal.

Hal punched him playfully on the shoulder. “That’s the ticket. Just don’t disgrace the 11th by getting yourself caught in parson’s mousetrap!”

“As if I would,” he replied, baring his teeth in a semblance of a smile.

“Good chap! Knew you would not let me down.”

It was not only Hal he did not want to let down in the completion of this mission. But Felicity, too.

As he turned on his heel to leave Hal’s room, he wondered what he would do if she did not show? What then?

The thought that she might go to the garden in the Inns of Court, instead, gave him a sick feeling. He shut the door behind him, and leaned back against it.

He had planned to kiss her senseless.… What might that other chap do if he got his hands on Felicity? He could hardly believe the bounder had not taken ruthless advantage of her trusting nature already.

His face turned grim. If she did not show up in the morning, at least he would know where to look for her. And if he caught that other fellow kissing Felicity…

His lips twisted into a snarl. He just hoped the man knew a little about swordsmanship, that was all. Otherwise, it would be a case of cold-blooded murder.

Chapter Six

by Margaret McPhee

The excitement was dancing in Felicity’s stomach as she slipped down from the saddle and left the mare with the groom.

Ben was already waiting by the benches at the far end of the park. The early morning sunlight burnished a mahogany lustre to the darkness of his hair, and he looked so tall and handsome and dashing that she could not help but remember again the feel of his lips upon hers last night, and the overwhelming sensation of it that had knocked every last sensible thought from her head.

Her heart was thudding as she walked towards him.

“Miss Morville.”

She looked into those dark mesmerising eyes with all of their tenderness and forbidden promises and could not, despite her guilt, regret being here with him rather than in the Inns of Court gardens with her mysterious admirer.

“Lieutenant Ranworth…Ben.” She tried to appear as if she had not spent the previous night sleepless with anticipation.

He smiled at her, and the thrill rippled through her as he tucked her hand into the crook of his arm.

“It’s a beautiful morning.”

“All the more beautiful for your arrival.”

She blushed. “You’re flirting with me.”

“What gentleman would not?”

Her pulse leapt as she saw that he was leading her behind the line of trees, where they would be hidden from sight.

“I worried that you would not come.”

“You were most persuasive of the importance of this meeting.” Her cheeks heated at the memory of just how very persuasive he had been.

He stopped walking and turned to her. “Of critical importance, I assure you,” he said, his voice low and seductive.

There was only the sound of birdsong, and the whispering of the breeze through the leafed canopy above. Felicity did not notice the cloudless blue of the sky, or the way the sunlight lit the dew upon the grass. She did not notice anything except Benedict Ranworth and the smoldering intensity of his eyes. She stared and could not look away.

His face lowered towards hers.

She reached her mouth to meet his.

And when their lips finally touched, it was everything and more than she remembered.

His kiss was gentle at first, his lips teasing lightly while he enveloped her in his arms. The clean scent of soap and cologne filled her nose. The taste of him tantalised her tongue. He kissed her, and she could think of nothing else. There was only this moment, only this man. Beneath her palm she could feel the fast, hard beat of his heart.

“Felicity,” he murmured, and his hand wove a magical caress against her back before sweeping down over the curve of her hip. He held her to him, so close that their bodies seemed to merge. The kiss intensified, so that he was kissing her harder, intimately, urgently. When his thumb brushed against her breast, she gasped at the sensations that shivered through her.

Ben stilled, suddenly aware that he was seducing Miss Morville with all the thoroughness of a rake. He looked at her, and standing there in the pale morning sunlight, all flushed and breathless with passion, she appeared to Ben a most glorious vision.

He did not need to hear that his breathing was heavy to know how close he had come to losing control. He was all too aware of that fact. “Forgive me,” he murmured, feeling ashamed of himself. “I should not have, but you are like no other woman.”

She glanced down, suddenly shy and embarrassed. And he remembered how young and innocent she was, and the danger the stranger posed. Protectiveness surged through him. He should be quizzing her on the man, but he could not bring himself to spoil the moment.

“I will meet you tonight at Mrs. Leeming’s rout.” He stared down into her eyes, and she stared back with equal intensity.

The gallop of hooves sounded in the distance; a group of horsemen racing their mounts across the turf towards them.

“I should go,” she whispered.

He stood where he was and watched her walk to her horse.

One final lingering look and she rode away.

***

Several hours later Ben was sitting with Hal in the Carlow’s library.

“How goes our campaign with Miss Morville? Managed to romance the girl enough to stop her sneaking off to meet with that bounder yet?”

Ben watched Hal decant the brandy and gauged how best to answer without revealing the extent of his feelings for Felicity. “It is progressing,” he said cautiously.

Hal’s eyes brightened. “That’s a blessed relief.” He passed a glass to Ben. “Means you can ease up on feigning an interest.”

Ben forced himself to amend the words that would have betrayed him. “The job is far from done; I have not yet discovered anything of the man from her.”

Hal sipped at his brandy. “Then by all means engage in a bit more flirtation and a few waltzes, but no more meetings alone. After all, you don’t want to find yourself forced to take a trip down the aisle with the girl.”

Ben thought of Felicity’s hair glowing red in the sunshine and the sweetness of her lips. He thought, too, of her vivacious energy and her courage, and he could not help but smile.

“Ranworth?”

Ben glanced up to find Hal peering at him. He tried to frown. “The important thing is that we keep Miss Morville safe.”

“Quite.” Hal nodded. “A gentleman’s duty and all that. Now drink up. Thought we’d nip to the club for a few hours.”

Neither man noticed the slight creaking that sounded outside the partly opened door.

Ben thought again of Felicity. Hal’s advice might be sound, but Ben had no intention of following it.

***

Felicity was trying to decide which dress to wear that evening. She was humming as she ran her fingers over the silks, and feeling joyful enough to burst when Honoria whirled into the bedchamber and plumped herself down on the bed.

“They are such beasts!”

Felicity hurried to her side. “Who are beasts?”

“Men!” Honoria’s eyes flashed. “Or more specifically, my brother and Lieutenant Ranworth.”

A whisper of foreboding rippled down Felicity’s spine.

“I happened to overhear their conversation and it’s all of it a ploy to steer you away from your secret admirer.”

Felicity felt the blood drain from her face. “A ploy?” she uttered weakly.

“They decided that Lieutenant Ranworth would feign a romantic interest in you in order to protect you!”

Felicity’s stomach plummeted. She sat down on the bed beside her friend.

Honoria looked round at her, and her gaze seemed to see too much. The fury had gone and in its place was concern. “I’m sorry, Felicity. I didn’t realize that you liked him.”

And even though Felicity was hurt and outraged and humiliated, she drew herself up. “I’m not such a ninny to be taken in by Lieutenant Ranworth’s games. I knew very well what he was about. And if he thinks for one minute that he’ll prevent me meeting with a certain gentlemen then he’s much mistaken.” She forced herself to smile. “I don’t think that I’ll go to the rout, after all. I’ll need a good night’s sleep if I’m to be up early to fetch some more herbs.”

Honoria grinned. “That’s the spirit.”

Felicity smiled again, but inside her heart was breaking. And she did not let herself think, not once, of Ben Ranworth.

Chapter Seven

by Gayle Wilson

The following morning, Felicity hurried toward the herb gardens and the assignation with her dark admirer—a meeting that would never have taken place had she not learned of Ben’s duplicity.

The memory of his betrayal brought such a wave of despair, her vision was momentarily affected by welling tears so that she literally ran into someone bending down to gather herbs.

“Forgive me,” Felicity stammered as she caught the woman’s elbow in an attempt to steady her. “I haven’t hurt you, I hope.”

The hood of the cloak her victim wore fell back, revealing a wrinkled visage and two dark eyes that studied Felicity’s features intently.

“My basket,” the old woman commanded, finally breaking the spell that had held Felicity motionless. “Fetch it for me, if you please.”

Felicity hastened to comply, sweeping up the herbs that had spilled out before she presented their container to its owner. As she did, she realized from her dress that the old woman was a Gypsy.

All the frightening tales she’d heard about these mysterious people raced through her mind. But before she could make her escape, the woman captured her hand, turning it to examine the lines on her palm with the same intensity she had just focused on her features.

“Tell your fortune, my lady?”

“No, thank you,” Felicity managed, pulling her hand from the woman’s gnarled fingers.

“No charge,” the Gypsy beguiled. “I’ll read your palm in return for your kindness.”

“I don’t want my fortune told.”

“Everyone wants to know what their future holds.” The Gypsy again considered her face. “Yours isn’t what you believe it to be. Not now.”

Meaningless mumbo-jumbo, Felicity thought. However do they convince people to pay for this nonsense?

“And this one—” the old woman continued “—is not for you.”

At that moment, Felicity became aware of what the Gypsy must already have sensed. The exotic stranger she had come to meet was striding toward them.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded.

For a moment Felicity thought he was addressing her. Then she realized his inquiry had been directed at the Gypsy.

“Plying my trade,” the old woman answered. “As are you, I see.”

“You don’t belong here,” the man responded, grasping the Gypsy’s elbow to turn her away.

“Nor do you.” She pulled free of his grip, clearly not intimidated despite his obvious anger.

“Don’t hurt her,” Felicity begged, putting a restraining hand on his arm. “She only came to gather herbs.”

Her suitor ignored Felicity’s defense to again berate the crone. “I’m warning you. Keep out of my affairs.”

“Then conduct them with more care. This girl—” the Gypsy lifted her chin toward Felicity “—shouldn’t be part of them.”

For the first time the stranger’s eyes focused on Felicity. Something about their intensity nagged at her, like a melody she’d once heard and couldn’t quite remember.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he said, returning his attention to the old woman.

“I swore I would help you,” she said. “But this…this is beneath you. Beneath the Rom Baro.”

The last phrase seemed to infuriate the stranger anew. He pulled the old woman around and put his hand between her shoulders to propel her away. “Go back where you belong.”

“Will you come with me, chaveske chav?” she asked. “To where you belong?”

The stranger made a menacing move, his hand raised. With a laugh the Gypsy continued down the path he’d set her on, disappearing as it curved deeper into the gardens.

The stranger turned to smile at Felicity, his features all amiability once more. “I was beginning to worry that whatever prevented your coming yesterday might keep you away again today.”

To avoid the painful subject of why she hadn’t met him yesterday, Felicity asked, “Do you know her?”

“That hag? What have I to do with her?” he responded with a laugh. “Let me look at you. You’ve grown even more beautiful since last we met.”

With one finger he traced slowly down the curve of her cheek. When he reached her chin, he tilted her face upward as he smiled down at her.

That strange sense of déjà vu troubled her again. As if she had peered deeply into these same eyes before. The feeling jolted, causing her to step back.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

Something was wrong, Felicity realized. Very wrong. Despite the pain of Ben’s betrayal, she couldn’t become involved with this man. A man about whom she knew nothing.

Except the way he had treated the old Gypsy, who obviously cared about him.

“I must go.”

“But you’ve just arrived,” the stranger protested. “And I’ve been dreaming of this meeting since we parted last. It’s as if you’ve cast a spell over me.” He smiled as he said the last, slipping his arm behind her waist to urge her closer.

Without a conscious decision to do so, Felicity placed her hands against his chest to push him away. “I shouldn’t have come.”

“But of course you should. This was meant to be. We both felt it.”

She shook her head, realizing what a mistake she’d made.

“You must know I’m in love with you,” he avowed softly. “I would never do anything to hurt you.”

Shocked, she looked up into his eyes, her lips parted to protest. Before she could, his mouth descended over hers.

Although she twisted and turned, trying to free herself, he was too strong. As he deepened the kiss, she began to be afraid, remembering how deserted the gardens were at this time of day.

Suddenly, the arms that had captured her released their hold. The stranger was jerked backward, and a fist at the end of a uniformed sleeve connected with his chin.

Ben. And despite what he’d done, Felicity had never been so glad to see anyone in her life.

Having lost the element of surprise, her rescuer was now being forced to grapple with an assailant who seemed more than capable of holding his own. A quick twist of the stranger’s body took him out of the way of Ben’s next blow and allowed him to land his own facer.

Then Ben’s knuckles merely grazed his opponent’s cheekbone as the dark man ducked at the precise moment they should have smashed against his nose. He exploded out of his crouch to drive his head into the soldier’s midsection. Ben held on to take them both down as he fell.

Panicked by the thought of once more being subjected to the stranger’s unwanted advances, Felicity grasped his shoulder, trying to pull him off her rescuer. But he pushed her aside. Her efforts did allow Ben to regroup. He managed to get his feet under the stranger’s body to throw him off. With an audible crack, the back of that dark head connected with one of the stones outlining the path.

Ben sprang to his feet. Fists raised, he stood over his opponent as if daring him to rise. With one hand the stranger wiped blood from the corner of his mouth, his dark eyes never leaving the soldier who’d felled him.

“Tell Carlow this isn’t the end.”

“Carlow?” Ben repeated in confusion. “Do you mean Hal?”

The stranger whose elegance Felicity had once admired struggled to his feet. His pantaloons were marred with dirt, and at some point in the brawl, his cravat had come undone. Despite his dishevelment, he still managed to look as if he believed he was in charge.

“Carlow and his accursed line.” The stranger’s eyes left Ben’s to find hers, his face relaxing into a slight smile. “It seems my grandmother was right. This was not meant to be.”

With a boldness that took them both by surprise, he stepped forward to catch Felicity’s hand, bending over it to bestow a lingering, and far too intimate, kiss. When he lifted his head, his eyes reflected only amusement. “I wish you joy of your soldier, my dear.”

With that he turned on his heel and strode off along the same path the old woman had taken, leaving Felicity alone with her rescuer—the same man who had so cruelly and despicably betrayed her affections.

Chapter Eight

by Christine Merrill

Ben was looking off down the path after the retreating man, his fists still clenched and his muscles flexing under the tight wool of his coat, as though ready to fight for her again. “There. That has settled him. He will not be bothering you again, I am sure.”

Felicity tried to restrain the sense of relief she felt to be free of the stranger’s attentions, because it had taken only a moment to remember how thoroughly she had been duped by the man who remained. “I do not recall requesting your assistance, Lieutenant Ranworth,” she said coldly back to him.

And for a moment, Ben looked just as he had when the stranger had struck him—dazed with sudden shock. To hide his confusion, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his face, and stared down in disgust at the traces of blood and grime from the fight. “I assumed you were in need, since no decent young lady would allow herself to be mauled by a stranger, in a public park.”

“What you saw was a kiss. Nothing more,” she said. “And less than you attempted yesterday, I am sure.”

His head snapped up, his eyes bored into hers. “That is not the same at all,” he argued. “I never would have gone farther than a few dances, if I hadn’t thought—”

And now the brave young dragoon looked quite uncomfortable, and seemed overly preoccupied with seeing that his handkerchief was returned to the correct pocket. “—that what I was doing was in your best interest.”

“You thought it was in my best interest to lead me away from propriety?” And now she turned away from him, so that he couldn’t see her flush of excitement when she thought of it. “The gentleman today at least had the decency to proclaim his love for me before taking such liberties.”

“He declared his love?” Now Ben looked properly stricken again. “Felicity…” He swallowed hard, and then corrected himself. “Miss Morville, when Carlow expressed his concern that you were forming an unwise attachment, I agreed to help prevent it. But I had no idea that it had developed to such an extent.”

“So you admit that you attempted to trick me into losing interest in the gentleman.”

“That was no gentleman,” Ben blurted, and then struggled to contain himself. “But neither was I. I had no idea of the depth of feeling involved. I thought it to be much less than it actually was. And so I sought to insinuate myself into this assumed gap to separate you.”

“You felt, on the basis of a very limited acquaintance, that you could pretend affection—”

“It was not pretend,” he blurted again, and then stared down at the toes of his brightly polished boots. “When Hal set me to this task…which is not to say he is in any way to blame. If you have been hurt, I take the whole fault upon myself. I should have had the sense to stop before I’d begun.” And he looked up at her, into her eyes. And as he gazed deep, he seemed to lose his way, and his eyes wandered to her lips, staring with such intensity that she could feel them starting to tingle.

He looked away suddenly, back at the ground, and found his voice again. “I had no idea that the job of distracting you was likely to be distracting to me as well.”

“You find me distracting?” she said, not quite sure what to make of the admission.

“Or that I would find myself quite so thoroughly in the thrall of someone whose heart might be otherwise engaged.”

“In thrall.” And now, she had to struggle to stifle her smile.

He looked at her with all seriousness, his deep brown eyes locking to hers, after only the briefest fortifying glance at her mouth. “I regret that I was not honest with you, from the very first. Then I could have put you on your guard against the man you have been meeting. No matter how he treats you, or how sincere his feelings might be, I fear that he is up to no good.” He glanced down the path that the dark stranger had taken, and muttered, almost to himself, “And if he means to make trouble for the Carlows, then I had best warn Hal.”

In thrall. While the rest of his speech sounded very much like an apology, she could not seem to get her mind past those words. “But if you had been honest, and I had listened to your advice, then you would have had no need to kiss me,” she said, thinking that they both could have escaped this embarrassing misalliance—and suddenly finding that she was very glad that he’d tricked her.

He was looking at her lips again. “Oh, I suspect the need to kiss you would still have been there. But I would not have been able to lie to myself about the meaning of it.”

She shivered as she thought of the delicious moments they had already shared. And then again as she thought of how different it had been to be kissed by the other man, and the strange and frightening things he had said before leaving. “If that is how you feel, then it might interest you to know that while the gentleman who left here claimed to feel strongly for me, my opinion of him was not nearly so pleasant.”

And now the other man was forgotten. For she was looking at Ben’s lips, and remembering how they tasted when they touched hers—and hoping that she would know their flavor again, very soon.

“Then it is not too late for me?” He wasted no more time, and placed his hands upon her shoulders, pulling her close. His kiss was as she remembered it, hot and demanding, stealing her breath and then giving it back again, infusing her with the desire he felt for her. His tongue touched hers, stroking with increasing force until she clung to the facings of his coat, too weak to stand without him.

Sensing her submission, he seemed happy to be her support. His hands moved from their innocent positions until one pressed against her breast and the other rested on her hips, pulling them gently against his to show her how right it would be when they were joined.

And today, instead of gasping, she sighed in delight, and broke the kiss so she could whisper, “Lieutenant Ranworth, have a care for my reputation. If we are discovered, you will be forced to offer for me.”

His next kiss was like a smile upon her cheek. “I am afraid I shall have to do that in any case, darling. For I mean to do things much more scandalous than this before I am finished with you. If you value your honor, we had best get the banns read quickly.” He was nuzzling her ear now, making her giggle. And then, the feeling changed, moving deep into her body.

And it did not make her feel like laughing at all. Instead, she was imagining the feel of his hands on her skin, and the way his bottomless dark eyes would look when they were alone in the candlelight. “Before you came—” she whispered “—an old Gypsy woman told me my fortune.”

He laughed, and kissed her again, this time on the side of her throat. “You do not believe such nonsense, do you?”

“But I think she was trying to tell me that you are my future.”

And Ben did not hesitate in the least at the thought. Instead, he said, “Then I was wrong, and she was very wise, and you should most certainly listen to her.” And then he stopped his progress down her throat, and smiled up into her eyes in a way that she was sure was a challenge. “But enough talk of our future. This morning, I will make it so you cannot think further than the present.”

And he took her by the hand and led them off the path to a place where they could be delightfully alone.