Chapter 2 2

II. Seduction Gone Wrong

Adrien was brooding the entire time. Bloody Macy ball was proving to be a challenge. He ought to hang his brother for not coming. But then, Calan seemed to be dealing some secret problems. Why else would the bastard go to Willowfair without his new wife? Something was wrong somewhere, he knew it.

But no matter, it was not his place to be involved in marital disputes. Was that why he had been avoiding marriage all these years? Yes, bloody hell! Having the reputation of a rake was very much more convenient. But the truth still remained that the mamas and their daughters had set their eyes on him. It was a great disappointment to the ton that his brother, Calan, had married one of the most scandalous women in Willowfair. And now their eyes had diverted to him.

Adrien Haverston may not have a title to his name but he was still an eligible bachelor. And there seemed to be quite a lot of unwed women in the Town.

But he would never allow himself be tied into something that could not be easily revoked. Marriage was for those who were boring and needed heirs. Adrien was not boring and his father was not demanding an heir from him although he would be inheriting the Easton estate when the time came that Calan had to take over Haverston once their father passed. And there was still McKenzie to sire an heir if the need arose. And Calan could breed as many as he wanted with his new wife. Adrien was free!

Another dratted truth remained still though and that was no other than his Aunt Gertrude, sister of Lord Haverston. The woman had made it her mission to marry his two eligible bachelor nephews and since McKenzie was not in town, Adrien was her target.

He had almost begged Calan to go to this dratted ball with him but his brother was adamant that he had more pressing matters to attend to. Their aunt had literally dragged and bribed and threatened him to go to this dratted ball.

The sight of the two black-haired twins, Poppy and Posy Prewitt accompanied by their ever conniving mother, Lady Prewitt, drew Adrien from his musings. Suddenly the great need to escape called unto him and he immediately whirled around to find the nearest hiding place.

His eyes frantically searched the ballroom and found an exit to his right. He dashed toward it casually and disappeared into an empty corridor. He looked over his shoulder and found the three Prewitt women craning their neck in search for him.

Bloody hell, he cursed. He found a door and dashed toward it. It was open. Thank God for having mercy on desperate rakes!

He walked inside the dark library and closed the door behind him.

He needed a drink to pass the time. His aunt would be out looking for him soon and in his experience it was always best to deal with the old woman with spirit running through the veins. He walked to pour himself a brandy from the small liquor cabinet beside the door of the Macy library and let out a contented sigh. He needed a short respite from this horrid ball after all.

*****

Mary Featherton surprised the guests by her appearance. There could be any number of reasons why they were looking at her with horror and judgment in their eyes. For one, her father had just died and she was supposed to be in mourning still. Well, she was, thus the black gown. Another reason was that she was not always invited to such balls. Her being without a title and the daughter of a rich man who owned the two largest gentlemen's clubs in Willowfair were enough reasons. Women had always regarded the Mary and Angel Houses as their enemies. Their husbands and beaus were members and God could only be the witness of what happens in such places. Mary knew, of course, what their husbands and beaus had been doing in the clubs and that was why she was never accepted. No one wanted to be near her for her very presence made them wonder if she had knowledge of their husband's infidelity or gambling debts.

Being a place built hundreds of feet below ground, the Town was not spared of societal issues, Mary had always thought. She believed that the Town was no different from any aboveground as what her friend Cressida might have believed. Yes, they had preserved the past by staying away from the changes aboveground, but they were still a society where wealth and status were more important. Cressida could handle it no longer and so she had found a way to escape. Her husband, Calan Haverston, had helped her. How they managed it Mary could only wonder.

And while Cressida left, Mary chose to stay. And things had gone from mellow and boring to drastic and desperate since Cressida's departure. And now she had no one to go to but herself.

She scanned the ballroom for the person she had in mind to seduce tonight.

"Mary Featherton!" a woman's voice said behind her. Mary stopped her search and turned. The old, elegant woman who stood before her was a stranger but she offered a curtsy. "Ah, young girl, I am sad to know about your father's passing. My condolences."

Mary smiled, tucking the black strand that had strayed out of their clips. She could not find a maid to do it for her earlier. "Thank you..." she threw the old woman an apologetic look.

"Lady Gertrude Haverston."

"Haverston."

The woman nodded. "I am an old spinster, child. I am Lord Haverston's sister. Ah, no bother," Lady Gertrude said with a wave of her hand. "You do not know me. But I do know you. You are friends with my nephew's wife, Cressida Belverst, now Haverston, yes?"

Mary smiled warmly. "Yes."

"Do not be afraid that I know too much, dear. I merely happen to have a lot of time," Lady Gertrude explained. "Now, why the bloody hell are you here?"

Mary blinked, stunned by the woman's choice of language. "I...well, I am-"

"You should be in mourning," Lady Gertrude said in whisper. "But I do understand your need to find entertainment after your loss. Now, how do you plan to spend this evening? Have you brought a companion with you?"

"Yes," she lied. "Which is why I am trying to find her. If you will excuse me-"

"No, not yet, child. I wish to introduce you to my nephew. Come, let us find him."

"But I believe Lord Calan is not here and-"

Aghast, Lady Gertrude stared at her. "Whatever made you think I was talking about Calan? I meant Adrien."

Adrien Haverston, Mary thought. The rake. For a moment she considered it-him-and mentally cringed at the thought. No, Adrien Haverston was not fit for her goals. He was too untamed and too rakish to be her husband.

"I am sorry, Lady Gertrude, but I have promised my companion I will be gone only for a short while. Maybe later?" she asked, crossing the fingers hidden behind her gown.

Lady Gertrude sighed. "Very well, then. I will need to find Adrien first anyway. Where is that dratted child?" Mary breathed a sigh of relief when the lady turned away, talking about her nephew to herself.

Once more, Adrien Haverston crossed his mind. The handsome rake who had been running around the Town chasing skirts. Of course, she of him. He was a member of the Mary House. She had heard him speak of women during card games behind the thin walls that separated the gaming room from the private corridors of the club. She could very well picture his handsome face in her mind, the way his dark hair would move when he would laugh at a rather bad joke, the way his blue eyes would crinkle when-

She shook her head. No, definitely no. Adrien Haverston was a rake and he would prove to be more of a bigger problem than the one she was facing now.

Her target was someone else entirely different. He was honorable and by far the only member of the Mary House who had spoken to her like a gentleman.

Lord Jonathan Preston.

He was perfect. Not too handsome but not bad to the eyes either. Cressida had once made a comment on his oily face but Mary thought she could deal with that. She was not very much pretty herself to demand for someone with great looks as Adrien Haverston or his brothers. No, she was plain and she stooped and she did not have to find anyone better than Lord Jonathan Preston.

She could easily seduce him and force him to marry her. She would have chosen a less aggressive move if she had the time, but she didn't. Jonathan Preston was honorable enough and he would marry her.

But it seemed as though he did not come and that brought a frown on her face. She had learned from someone in the Mary House that he was planning to attend the Macy ball. She hated that her rather bold threat to Lord Macy yesterday during his visit in the Mary House to acquire an invitation to this ball would go to waste.

She walked around the ballroom, ignoring the disparaging glances, and focused her eyes on finding her future husband.

And then she saw him. It was definitely him. It was his blond hair, his height and built. There was no question in that. But he was walking out of the ballroom into an empty corridor.

Perfect.

Mary casually-and rapidly-made her way to the corridor. She stuck her head out and saw Preston enter through a door. She was about to follow when she saw a familiar figure come toward her and she groaned.

"Mary! Whatever are you doing here?" Lady Belinda Carrington asked with a frown. Her two friends, Posy and Popsy were standing behind her as always ever since Mary had known them. The three girls, two with black hair and one red, were frowning at her, judgment in their eyes.

Bugger. She had better to get rid of them fast or Preston would disappear again.

*****

The door to the library opened and suddenly his privacy flew out the window. A familiar figure slowly came near him.

"Preston," Adrien said dryly. "I would appreciate if you find another place. I was immensely enjoying my privacy."

"Did Calan come with you?" Preston asked, ignoring his comment.

Adrien rolled his eyes. Finally. Someone was asking him about something other than a wedding proposal. "No. He had some pressing matters to attend to. His very words."

Annoyance crossed Preston's oily face. "I came hoping he was here."

"Well, he is not."

Preston gave a curt nod. "Very well. I shall leave you in peace then."

"You have my complete gratitude," he said with an exaggerated bow.

Preston turned and left the library. Adrien was aware that Preston was a member of the League of Founders and him looking for Calan meant his brother was working on a case. It was moments like this when he was running away from the mamas and their daughters that Adrien wished he had not left the League those years ago.

Adrien swallowed the remaining drink from his glass. He leaned his head back on the back of the winged chair and closed his eyes and thought of nothing.

The door opened once more and he groaned. "I was really, honestly, hoping to get a moment of privacy," he said without opening his eyes.

"You were?" a soft, very-much-female voice said from the door and Adrien's eyes flew open. He straightened in his chair, alert. Some chit had found him and trapped him. He ought to leave before anyone saw them.

But the chit was walking toward him and he could not move. She was almost a shadow in the darkness of the library. He ought to get up and leave but he found himself mesmerized by the way she was walking toward him-gentle and graceful. She was not the voluptuous type. She was slender, almost thin-just how he liked his women.

And she smelled wonderful. Not the strong perfumes the women showered themselves with. No, she smelled of fresh, woman scent with a hint of rose. And it reached his nose and he had to inhale some more.

He bloody ought to go, he thought. But she was walking boldly toward him, her movement full of intent. Maybe she was here to play. Maybe he ought to play with her.

There was naught but a very faint light from the light outside the window of the library so he could not entirely see her face. But he was certain she was wearing black and her hair was of the same color. Her skin was not as pale as that of the many ladies in the Town. No, they appeared to glow in the faint light that shone on the lower part of her body. Her face was still hidden in the shadows. One more step and he would finally see her face. One more-

But she suddenly stopped. She stiffened and then backed away. Adrien frowned. What was the matter?

"I am sorry," she said under her breath. "I mistook you for someone else."

And then she began to turn away and Adrien found himself jumping to his feet to go after her. He managed to grab her arm before she reached the door and whirled her around to face him. The brandy had made the adventurous side of him come out, the one that wanted the thrill. And her skin, God, the mere touch of her skin in his hand made all thoughts of logic fly out the window. She was not wearing gloves and he freely slid his hand down to wrap around her wrist.

"Who did you think I was?" he asked above her.

She turned her head to the side. He could not see her face in the darkness but he saw a hint of long, thick lashes. "No one. Please, my lord, release my arm. I ought to go."

Adrien shook his head. "Oh, no, my lady, you are not going anywhere."

She stiffened. "Let me go, please."

Adrien bent his head down and took a lungful of her scent. His groin suddenly jerked to life. He wanted more. Ah, bloody hell. He wanted this woman.

"You came for your lover, didn't you?"

"No," she denied. And after a short pause she added, "I meant to turn one into one."

Adrien chuckled. "And you were disappointed that you found me instead?"

She shook her head and caught herself. She nodded. "Yes. Greatly so."

"Liar," he whispered, leaning lower so his nose touched her ear. He slid his hand up to her upper arm once more, reveling at its silky smoothness. "Would you change your mind and reconsider your choice?"

He heard her gulp. "No. I only planned on taking one lover, thank you."

"But I am a willing victim, my lady," he urged, craning his neck to search for her lips.

She stepped back and he followed until she was pressed hard on the door with nowhere to run. She had walked intending to trap someone and now she found herself trapped. He really ought to teach these ladies some lessons, he thought.

"Nowhere to run," he teased. She tried to pull away from him but he held her fast by her waist. Her hands went to his arms and pushed but he was bigger and stronger. "Just one kiss. You might like it," he whispered, nuzzling her nose with his.

"No. This is a mistake and-"

Adrien did not let her finish for he had grown impatient. His mouth captured hers and swallowed the gasp of surprise that escaped her lips. She tried to push him away once more but he pressed her harder against him, his mouth urging hers to surrender, to give in and enjoy this little adventure.

He almost jumped in triumph when he felt her resistance waver and her lips softened against his insistent tugging. He nibbled on her lower lip and gave it a gentle tug with his teeth. A sigh escaped her mouth and Adrien groaned. He pushed her back to the door and pinned her hips with his as his hands began to slowly discover every inch of her. He urged her mouth to open for his tongue and when she did he dove inside, eager to taste her. And she tasted far better than he had thought. She was heaven. Soft and warm and...innocent? But that couldn't be. She had come in here to meet a man. Surely no innocent would dare do such thing.

Yet the way her tongue hesitated to dance with his, the way her hands reluctantly traveled over his arms to his shoulder and finally his hair, told Adrien that she was a bloody innocent. Yet when her hands came down from his head to open his waistcoat contradicted his thoughts. Bloody hell, innocent or not, she was a willing one, he told himself.

It was too late to stop now. He had a taste of this lady in black and he would bloody hell take more. His hands came forward to cover her breasts above her gown. She purred against his mouth. He needed to feel more.

And he had to do it fast for that one part of his anatomy was not going to wait any longer.

His hands went behind her to loosen her stays, causing her to arch toward him, pressing her breasts against his chest. Adrien groaned in her mouth. He tore his lips from hers and traveled it down to her neck where he sucked on her racing pulse, drawing another gasp from her.

When her stays were finally loose, Adrien tugged her bodice down to reveal one breast. A moan of half-protest, half-wanting erupted from her throat as Adrien bent down to close his mouth over the peak.

"Please..."

"Don't worry, my lady, we are getting there," he whispered against her skin.

"No...please...please stop," she choked.

No, he could not. Not when he was bloody hard and she was bloody here-he groaned and straightened to full height, his breathing heavy. He buried his face in her neck, feeling her bare breast pressed against his chest. It took his entire control not to bend down and take her into his mouth again. He lifted his head and found her mouth in the darkness, pressed his hips against her, making her feel his great need, trying to urge her to say yes. His hand covered her bare breast and kneaded. Just say yes, he silently prayed.

"Please," she whispered against his lips. "Stop."

Adrien tore his mouth and his entire body away from her and turned, his jaw tight and hands clenched in control. "Go," he ordered. "Go now before I change my mind."

He did not even know her name yet he ravaged her as though he had not been with a woman in months. He had not even seen her face yet he had kissed her senseless. He heard the rustling of her dress as she tried to fix her dress and he remembered that he had loosed her stays.

Ah, bloody, bloody hell! She would require help after all.

He started to turn and found that she was having the exact problem he had thought.

"Let me," he offered, taking a step closer.

She frantically stepped back, shaking her head. The word 'no' was barely out of her mouth when she stumbled into the skirts of her gown and she fell backward. Adrien moved forward to catch her. She tried to save the fall by shifting her weight to the side, her hand desperately grabbing on to the edge of the liquor cabinet to her right.

"No!" Adrien cried just in time to catch her. He grabbed hold of her hand and pulled her toward him before she fell to the floor. And then the sound came. His heart stopped as the the bottles and glasses from the liquor cabinet swung forward and backward from where they were standing. Holding his breath and feeling helpless all of a sudden, Adrien willed them to stop and stay still but it was too late and most, if not all, fell to the floor in a loud, resounding series of clashes.

The lady in his arms gasped in surprise. Adrien stood frozen.

And the door burst open and five or more pair of frantic eyes saw them.

Wrapped in each other's arms.

Her bodice loose.

His waistcoat open.

His hair rumpled.

Her hair bedraggled.

The light from the corridor had burst inside the room and when Adrien finally tore his eyes away from the eyes crowding the doorway, he took the chance to glimpse at the woman who could very well have ruined the rest of his life.

His eyes widened in surprise when he finally saw the wide-eyed wanton in his arms.

Bloody Mary Featherton!