Sweet Torture Page 2

  “How nice to see you again, Captain.” Lydia smiled politely.

  Colton bowed and smiled broadly. “It is my pleasure, Lady Lydia. I get the feeling you did not know I would be out here.”

  “It is a pleasant surprise, I assure you captain, but no, I was not aware.” Lydia pierced Devon with a glare.

  “My apologies, once again. He asked for female companionship, and there you were. Two beautiful wilting flowers in need of rescuing and cool air,” Devon stated charmingly.

  Captain Colton coughed and Lydia’s cheeks burned red. Olivia missed the exchange and drew Colton’s attention to the radiant moon.

  Lydia stepped closer to Devon. “Somehow, I doubt that Olivia and I were the companionship the captain was seeking.”

  “I could have left you disintegrating in the ballroom. Instead, I chose to rescue you. Colton can find distraction later. Olivia is like the kid sister he never had and is rarely in town to visit. He has known her longer than you have. If you wish to distract me, please do so.” He smiled that slow smile that addled wits.

  Lydia stepped away from him for self-preservation. She was not ready to engage in that kind of banter with him, not yet. “Captain Colton, have you been anywhere exciting lately?” Needing to regain her composure, she decided to ignore Devon. Instead, she drew Captain Colton into banal conversation while Olivia listened intently, and Devon stood silently beside her. She tried to gauge his mood. She was puzzled when he folded his arms over his chest—but at his height, his face was out of view. He looked impossibly large when he folded his arms like that. Lydia was dying to see his expression. Was he annoyed? Did he care that she was giving her attention to Captain Colton and not to him?

  Captain Colton’s gaze kept darting from her to Devon, and his expression grew puzzled. Lydia couldn’t take the anticipation any longer, so she glanced at Devon. He wore a completely relaxed expression with a carefree smile.

  She was alone in her torture, apparently.

  “Devon has stated you’ve known Olivia for quite some time, is that true?” Lydia changed the subject while moving closer to Captain Colton. Men loved to compete, and if Devon could flirt shamelessly with her for entertainment, she could do the same with another gentleman and watch Devon squirm.

  “That is quite true,” Colton replied.

  “I have known Colton for as long as I can remember. Colton’s family seat is not far from ours, and they just somehow found each other one day. Is that not right, Devon?” Olivia turned to her brother.

  “When I was about the age of ten, I was riding my old horse, Bacas, and I came across a rider-less horse with a single boot dangling from one of the stirrups. Curious as boys are, I took his reins and backtracked from the direction he had come. Low and behold, I came across a scrawny looking lad limping across the heath missing a boot.”

  “Scrawny, eh?” Colton quipped. “As I remember it, I was two stones heavier and a few inches taller.”

  “If you were ten years of age, then Olivia was just a babe.” Lydia smiled. “How adorable you must have been.” Lydia tweaked one of Olivia’s curls.

  “Not so. She tossed her accounts, quite a bit.”

  “Devon!” Olivia glared daggers at him. All laughed good-naturedly except for Olivia, who swatted at her brother.

  Lydia moved out of harm’s way next to Captain Colton. “Have they always been like this?”

  “Always,” he replied, and watched them fondly as brother and sister quibbled lovingly.

  Lydia watched him and noticed how his gaze subtly returned to Olivia. Knowing men as she did, she wouldn’t test Olivia’s virtue against Captain Colton’s brotherly affection. Devon was blind if he couldn’t see it.

  The siblings stopped fighting, and once Devon’s attention returned to Lydia, she turned to Captain Colton and placed her hand on his arm. It was an utterly scandalous move in Lydia’s mind, but she would never best Devon in a fair fight. If he were armed with kisses, she would need to advance her weaponry as well.

  “Captain Colton, would you kindly escort me back to my mother? There is a chill in the air, and we must be getting back to the ballroom.” Lydia looked to Olivia, and her gut clenched. Olivia was staring at her hand on the captain’s arm as if it were a venomous snake. Clearly, Olivia harbored feelings for Captain Colton. Lydia pulled her hand away.

  “My, how the tides have turned. Never did I think I would live to see the day when I would correct the great Lydia Covington on proper etiquette. Colton, do the honors and escort Olivia, and I shall educate Lydia.”

  Blessed be the darkness for it hides blushes. Lydia was certain she was as red as a ruby. Olivia exuberantly took Colton’s proffered arm as they went into the conservatory. Devon smirked as Lydia grudgingly accepted his arm and they followed, but Devon halted when they reached the dark shadows of the interior.

  “Do not be offended if I gloat, but it is to be expected.” Devon turned to face her.

  Lydia watched the retreating forms of the captain and Olivia fade into the darkness. “We should not leave them alone,” Lydia said.

  “Don’t worry about them.” Devon touched her chin with his index finger.

  “I don’t believe your captain friend is as immune to your sister’s charms as you think. In fact, I think they both—”

  Devon’s lips fell upon hers, silencing her words. All at once, Lydia was enveloped in his arms and completely under his spell. Thoughts flew from her head like bats from a cave, and her body curled into the warmth of his body. He ran his hands along her shoulders, caressing where her silk ball gown gave way to skin and sliding his fingers underneath. Lydia instantly had visions of him undressing her and she shivered.

  Devon pulled away and stared down into her eyes.

  “I thought we had agreed not to do this,” Lydia whispered as her heart thudded painfully, and she fought against the urge to lean against him. What was happening to her?

  “I don’t want you to forget me. I didn’t like seeing you touch another man, and I have the sneaking suspicion you should be mine.”

  Lydia took a deep shaky breath. “How can you say that?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t understand any of this yet, but I don’t want to fight it. I want to explore it.”

  “I won’t be another one of your conquests, Devon.” Lydia stepped back. Her mind was reeling. This was Devon, the charming rogue of the ton, the rake who loved to irk her.

  “That’s not what I want, Lydia. This is different... You’re different.”

  Lydia was silent. She didn’t know what to say, and there wasn’t time to think here. “We should get back to the ballroom.” She turned away from him and was relieved when he said nothing more and followed her.

  They reached the door where Olivia and Captain Colton waited. “Anything amiss?” Olivia asked.

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  They both answered in unison.

  “I stubbed my toe on a pot. We need to leave, Olivia,” Lydia stated.

  “Oh dear, that must hurt!” Olivia was instantly all concern.

  “It’s not bad at all, but I certainly don’t want to stand around a crowded ballroom the rest of the evening with the ever present threat of it being stepped on.”

  “Certainly, once inside I will find Lady Covington, and we will leave straight away.”

  Devon was confused by Lydia’s sudden subterfuge and her wish to leave. When they re-entered the ballroom he was no longer puzzled. Lydia was clearly in no mood for a ball and looked upset. He felt like a wretch for being the cause of her state, but what could he do? The words had been as spontaneous as the kiss. They had just erupted from him as if his heart had something so urgent to say that it bypassed his brain.

  With Lydia and Olivia gone, Devon and Colton quit the ball and headed for White’s, a gentleman’s club. He had never realized how much time he spent in their company until now. Without them, there were few people Devon called friends, and thus no reason to remain in that musky ove
rcrowded ballroom. Colton hailed a hack, and as they rolled down the cobbled street, Colton raised a speculative eyebrow.

  “Yes?” Devon asked.

  “Have you decided to take on a wife, then?” Colton bubbled over with mirth at the mere idea.

  “Have you gone mad, old chap?”

  Colton wiped a tear from his eye. “I could not help but notice your attention to the lovely Lady Lydia, or the lull before you met us in the conservatory.”

  Devon deflected, “Lydia thinks you have impure notions toward my sister.”

  “What man wouldn’t?” Colton deadpanned.

  “That is not the reassuring answer I was looking for.”

  “There seems to be energy between the two of you. I can’t tell if she wants to hurt you or throw herself into your arms. Very peculiar…”

  “I would say that is a very good description of my relationship with Lydia Covington.” Devon stared out the window at the passing buildings.

  “You both address each other rather informally. Has it always been that way? I don’t remember it being this awkward last Christmas.”

  Devon shrugged. “Olivia and Lydia took to each other at Olivia’s come-out ball. Lydia is an only child and spends much of her time with our family. We dispensed with formality some time ago, as it grew tedious. But something has definitely changed between us—this stays between you and I, right?” Devon met his friend’s gaze.

  “Of course.” Colton nodded. “I just want to have time to order a new coat for your wedding.”

  “You’re not as witty as you think you are.” Devon glared.

  “Olivia laughs at all my jokes, and that is all I care about.”

  Devon sighed in exasperation. “We’ve kissed twice now.”

  Colton sobered. “That’s rather serious, Devon. You’ve had your pick of beautiful women. I can certainly see why she would tempt you, but what game are you trying to play with a lady of her ilk?”

  “I’m not playing a game. ’Tis true, the first kiss was born of pure want, simply to irritate her, but something happened.” Devon shook his head in bafflement.

  Colton laughed. “You kissed a woman to irritate her? Tell me, how did that work out?”

  “Like a bloody blow to the head. Have you ever had your world turned upside down in a single moment? One moment, you are completely sure of who you are and what you want, and the next…”

  Colton leaned back against the squabs and shook his head. “I do, unfortunately.”

  “One moment she was just Olivia’s friend—a frigid, bristled woman I enjoyed pestering, hence the kiss to irritate her.”

  Colton nodded sagely. “I would expect nothing less from you.”

  Devon threw him a glare. “It was all innocent but then… I did kiss her and… It no longer felt innocent.”

  “Kisses given to beautiful women rarely do, Devon. You’re in over your head,” Colton warned. “So you wish to court her now?”

  “I haven’t gotten that far.”

  “But you got far enough to kiss her again?”

  “She baited me. If she hadn’t been flirting with you, I never would have had the compulsion to do it.” Devon ran his fingers through his hair in agitation.

  “You sound smitten. I’d be careful, old man. As your friend, I should warn you to stay away from her. Find a woman who can ease your suffering, and forget about Lady Lydia. She is not a woman to be trifled with.”

  Chapter 3

  Lydia moved to sit beside her mother after dropping Olivia off at home. She leaned her head on her shoulder and took her hand, as she had so many times as a little girl. Her mother may be the paragon of propriety in polite society, but Lydia never wanted for affection growing up.

  “Does your foot bother you, dearest? Should we fetch Dr. Malroy?” Her mother stroked her hair.

  “No, its fine. I’m just tired.”

  “Lady Dolltrams’ guest list was unforgivably crowded, and with quite a few undesirables, I might add,” Lady Covington said with scorn.

  “Really? I noticed the crush of oppressive heat, but no one terribly scandalous. Who was there?”

  “I thought my vision was failing me when I saw Mrs. Flatfield on the dance floor with Lord Crimmson. They were behaving as if discretion were a word never introduced into the English language. She is not the first young bride to be married off to man thrice her age, nor is she the last, but that does not give her license to parade it before polite society. How one behaves is their true nobility. Blood, ancestry… Those are good on parchment, but one’s decorum is his true nature. Take your father, for example.”

  Lydia inwardly cringed. She felt no love for the father she didn’t know but still loathed the tedious and depressing lectures her mother gave, regarding his impeccable lineage and heinous behavior. He was the model for which her mother judged all men, and often found them lacking, or perilously close, by comparison.

  “He was a true nobleman worthy of the name, with the exception that he was a shameless reprobate. He was the catch of the season and the most handsome, as well. I was young and easily fooled by his charm and wit. When he asked for my hand, I thought I was the luckiest girl in the world. But a man who has everything is never satisfied. I hired and fired six maids in two weeks because he couldn’t keep his hands to himself. He went out every night and drank, gambled, and frolicked with whores and wastrels. I gave up after a month. I couldn’t take the whispers, the feminine letters reeking of cheap perfume… I would never be enough for him, and I had too much pride to be a throwaway wife. He would never care for me and the family we would have, so I banished him, picked up the pieces of my shattered dreams, and started over with the only gift he ever gave me.” She turned to Lydia and stroked her hair.

  Lydia moved away. “Why do you tell me these things? Do you think I truly wish to know how awful my own father was?”

  “I don’t want you to make the same mistakes I did. I don’t want you to ever be as unhappy as I am—was. Those weeks were torture, being in the public eye was torture, but I held my head high. Society may accept the wild nature of privileged young men as their due, but I would rather die than see you married off to any man like your father, no matter how titled he is. All mothers should be so considerate of their daughters. Alas, my experience is a familiar one, and these days, even young, new wives feel it is perfectly acceptable to betray their husbands.”

  “One can’t help but feel sorry for a young woman who is married off to a man twice her age… Lady Patrick for example.” Lydia replied.

  “She should be so lucky. A man past his prime is stable, safe, and won’t embarrass you in society.”

  “Mother! But what about love and…passion?”

  “Oh, dear me, Lydia, have you no sense? There is no place for love and passion in polite society. Such things are grotesque! Perhaps it is time you consider a husband, if you are having such thoughts. Lord Woodrich would suit you admirably. He has five thousand a year and rarely comes to town. He spends his time bird watching from what I hear.”

  “A love match is not grotesque,” Lydia argued

  “You would learn to love Lord Woodrich in time. Real love grows from respect, not this instantaneous spark so many young fools write poems about. Those romances don’t last, and before they know it, those poor fools are married to each other, and one of them is hopping from bed to bed while the other is miserable.”

  Lydia turned away from her mother and stared out the window at the passing street lamps. Thank the Lord they were almost home.

  “Lord Wilhelm is a perfect example of one not to marry,” Lady Covington continued, unaware of Lydia’s lack of attention. “I realize you are dear friends with his sister, and Olivia is a delightful young woman, but her brother certainly reminds me of your father. He carries that aura of devilment that draws the foolish young women like moths to a flame. He will break his future wife’s heart, no doubt about it.”

  Lydia remained silent but squeezed her eyes tightly shut. Her mothe
r couldn’t see her expression, thankfully. Lydia mentally kicked herself over and over. If her mother only knew she had shared two sinfully delicious kisses with Lord Wilhelm, she would disown her. And what he said to her tonight, well… Lydia was in danger. It seemed she had already lost her wits, if not yet her heart.

  “The way you talk about Father, I do not think Lord Wilhelm resembles him. He is a very kind and attentive brother. Surely, that gives him a sense of morality when it comes to the treatment of those who care for him. Wouldn’t that extend to his wife?”

  “One would hope. I am relieved you are such close friends with his sister, as that will earn you protection from his baser behavior. I will give him that much.”

  Oh dear God, if her mother only knew how wrong she was. Lydia pressed her feverish brow against the cool window and closed her eyes once more. Devon had kissed her twice already, and Lydia had a feeling that unless she went into hiding and avoided all society, he would find a way to do it again. The possibilities for dalliance at the gatherings they attended were many, and Devon seemed to be a master. Lydia felt caught by him—like a cornered mouse—only instead of being scared, she was intrigued. She didn’t know she could feel like this, and she didn’t yet understand how it was Devon suddenly making her feel this way. She should avoid him at all cost, and yet… She didn’t want to. The things he said tonight… The way he said them… It spoke to a part of her she didn’t know existed, a part of her that was a giant witless fool who easily succumbed to the kiss of a rogue. It felt as if the world she once knew was fading away, revealing one that was much more complicated and filled with intense emotion. A week ago, she was sure of who she was and her place in the world. She was a model of ideal behavior for a young woman, and now… Now she was burning up at the sight of a man’s smile, and her heartbeat was erratic at the mere thought of him. How could this be?

  “I have a sneaking suspicion you should be mine.”

  “Devon, how can you say that?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t understand any of this yet, but I don’t want to fight it. I want to explore it.”