Page 5 of One Night in Vauxhall Gardens (Singular Sensation #11)

What the devil is happening?

One moment, Harry had been lost to memories that bordered on a nightmare while he had still been awake, and the next moment, he was being kissed by a strange woman.

Well, that wasn’t exactly the truth. Vaguely, he recognized the woman at St. Vincent’s sister. And for whatever reason, he was kissing her back with an enthusiasm he didn’t understand. Hadn’t he recently said to his friends that he wasn’t looking for a woman in his life in any capacity?

She hadn’t begged off yet, so he’d be a nodcock to stop.

Despite the warning bells that clanged at the back of his mind, for she was the sister of a fellow rogue after all, he couldn’t help but deepen the embrace, and when she made no protest as he caressed her, he dared to pull down her bodice. Damn, but her moderately sized breasts were so pale in the dim illumination from the stars and moon. The dusky pink tips were hardened and pebbled, and that texture against his tongue as he licked those nubs and suckled them worked to separate him from reality.

It was all so surreal he didn’t know to act, but he was damned if he’d waste this opportunity, and besides, focusing on Lady Theresa helped to rid his mind of the lingering effects from the nightmare. And oddly, he couldn’t have enough of the woman in his arms. The warmth of her as she held him to her and ran her hands up and down his back was quite addicting, and the softness of her skin as he nipped and nibbled and licked his way along the side of her neck and over her breasts made him forget many, many things.

And wonder about many more.

Through it all, the lady made soft sounds of pleasure at the back of her throat, at least he hoped that is what they meant. Then he was sure when she fumbled at the knot of his cravat, and once she’d loosened it sufficiently, she pressed her lips to the skin beneath she’d just uncovered.

Dear God , how had he not known there was a place on the side of his neck that nearly sent him into the seventh heaven of delight? Interest shivered down his shaft, hardening it with an alacrity that surprised him. One of his hands went into her hair, and damn he wished he’d removed the gloves so he could feel those thick tresses.

“I had no idea kisses could be like this,” she whispered, and the sound of her voice in such close quarters and in this intimate situation made things all the more scandalous.

“Like what?” Weren’t kisses the same?

She opened her eyes, and briefly their gazes met. “Like I haven’t truly been kissed before. This is as if I’ve been given a glimpse of what life is truly about, and I’ve missed it all these years out of fear.”

What the hell did that mean? Not knowing, Harry continued to kiss her lips and caress her cheeks, her neck, her shoulders and breasts. The elusive lilac scent of her blended with the aromas of grass and damp earth, and it was different enough that he wished to chase it, follow that ghostly perfume over her skin. Where had she dabbed it? Behind her ears? In the hollow of her throat? Between her breasts? Had she come to Vauxhall Gardens tonight in the hopes that a gentleman would take notice of her?

All questions he wished to have answers, but as to why, he didn’t know.

“I know a bit about fear,” he whispered against the shell of her ear. Had she referred to the fears an innocent would have before being bedded?

Assuming he would go further this night.

When he lightly bit her lobe and her body arched against his, he knew that he probably would, indeed, bed her if she would allow it. Again, her eyes opened, and she sought out his gaze in the dark. “If I told you, I’m afraid everyone I’ve ever known would hate me, look at me differently.”

So then it wasn’t losing her innocence that she dealt with. How interesting. “I know exactly what you mean, for the battles I fight often make me look different, separate me from the people in my life; they can’t possibly understand what is happening inside my mind.”

Never had he admitted that to anyone. Why the deuce had he told her?

The lady tugged his shirttail from the waist of his evening breeches, and the instant her gloved fingers glanced over his abdomen and stomach, his soul nearly separated from his body. “It is refreshing to find someone who understands. Fear is sometimes an entity, an ever-present companion while at others it’s a cage with no way of escape. It is always there, though, preventing me from living my life as I might like.”

“Yes, that is a good descriptor for it.” But how the devil did she know? Since it would prove awkward to ask her in this situation, Harry grabbed up handfuls of her skirting and pushed the fabric toward her waist, but the second he put a hand between her thighs, brushed his fingers over the curls at the apex there, the mood between them changed. Instead of a willing participant, she was flailing about, clearly terrified.

“Stop! Please don’t!” Fear rang in her voice as she shoved at his chest.

“I am not going to hurt you.” He moved his hand to her thigh, but she still didn’t calm.

“No!” Again, she shoved at his chest, went so far as to pound a fist against his shoulder. Tears streamed down her cheeks in silvery tracks while she thrashed her head from side to side. “I can’t do this again; it hurts too much, and you’ll just leave me to fend for myself.” She followed the startling speech by bringing up a knee as he lifted off her body. It found purchase in the soft flesh between his thighs. The pain from the blow stole his breath. “Please get off me!”

Though confusion clouded his mind and dimmed the arousal, with the pain doing the rest of the work to kill any desire he’d previously had, Harry removed himself from her on the ground. Slowly, he stood, for he wasn’t a monster. In all of his dealings—with the exception of some things during the war and his stint as a spy—he’d always been an honorable gentleman.

“Forgive me the trespass, Lady Theresa. Taking advantage was not my intent,” he said as he offered her a hand.

When she slipped her gloved fingers into his palm, heat danced up his arm to his elbow. “I know, and I was trying to help you when I found you huddled on the ground…”

So his episode had been witnessed. How humiliating. “Can I count on you for discretion?”

“Of course.” Then she gasped as she realized her breasts were completely on display. “Dear heavens, I must look like a trollop.” She tried to hide her charms with her hands.

“Stop. You are… lovely.” When he reached out to help put her clothing to rights, her eyes rounded in the shadows, she violently shook her head, and said, “Please don’t touch me! Leave me alone.”

“I wasn’t… I didn’t… But I—” Before he could settle on a full sentence or even before the lady could tuck her bosom back into her bodice, a heavy hand landed on his shoulder that moved to the back of his tailcoat.

And then Harry was hauled out through the bushes.

“What the hell is going on here?”

He spun around to face the speaker—St. Vincent—and just as he’d opened his mouth to explain, the earl landed him a facer that spun him back ‘round and sent him to his knees on the ground. Pain radiated through his jaw and the right side of his face, but at least it made him forget about the pain in his groin. “Although I understand the sentiment, if you would but let me tell you what happened—”

“I most certainly do not care to hear anything you have to say!” St. Vincent’s bellow seemed to echo through the dark wooded area. Briefly, he turned away to address his wife. “Rachel, please do… something with Theresa,” he demanded as he gestured with a hand.

“Calm yourself, St. Vincent,” the countess said with the veriest trace of humor in her tone as she beckoned his sister through the shrubberies and onto the faint path where they stood. “When you and I met, we got up to quite a bit more scandal than simply kissing and exploring.”

The earl huffed. “Yet you heard her cry out for help and implore him to stop. He must have been doing a hell of a lot more than that!”

Harry picked himself off the ground. It was time to try reasoning with his friend. “Look, St. Vincent, I’ll admit, what you came upon probably wasn’t the best representation of what could have happened.”

The earl curled his hand into a fist again. “You took advantage of my sister, for God’s sake! What am I supposed to think?”

“I wasn’t. I swear it.”

“Then that wasn’t you kissing her, putting your hands on her while her clothing was in such a disheveled state?” St. Vincent’s eyes flashed in the darkness.

Heat crept up the back of his neck. “It was, of course it was. You saw the two of us, but I wasn’t taking advantage. And she kissed me first.” It was important to add that, for he wasn’t the only one culpable in this mess.

That did not make the earl more relieved. “I’d rather argue that doesn’t make a difference. My sister flirts with everyone.”

A protest went up from the lady’s quarter, but the countess quickly shushed her.

“No offense to your sister, but she wasn’t flirting. Not that she would have done such a thing with me anyway.” He worked his jaw in the hopes of assuaging some of the pain. At least his bones and teeth weren’t broken. “Lady Theresa came upon me as I was trapped in a memory and huddled on the ground. My best guess is after trying to bring me out of it by the usual methods, she thought to shock me into the present.”

“It is true, Leo,” that lady finally said, and he couldn’t have been more relieved. She came toward the two of them, once more properly rigged out with her gown covering all of her charms. “Hedgecomb was in a terrible state. There was no time for me to go back and find someone to help. I didn’t know if he would wander off, and since I already know that you have such issues occasionally, I immediately went into action.”

“By kissing him?” Shock wove through St. Vincent’s inquiry. “He’s a damned stranger, Theresa!”

She snorted. “If I had known him for years, would my response have been more warranted?”

Harry bit the inside of his cheek to keep from chuckling. To be fair, she had a tart mouth, and he appreciated that. “In any event, when I was coming back to myself, I assumed she was a threat, part of the war, a French solider and I’m afraid I tried to strangle her as a response.” He forced a hard swallow into his throat, for even in the faint illumination, he imagined the telltale marks of that were on her skin. “She kissed me to shock me out of the memories, but she also called out my name and slapped my face.”

“Well, I can see how that would have been horrifying for you both,” the earl said in a somewhat mollified tone. “But why did you continue to chase scandal with her after you came back to yourself? You could have just ended it and escorted her back.”

Fair question, and one he couldn’t answer without another round of heat that went through his person. Even his shaft shifted with renewed interest. “I wouldn’t be a man if I didn’t tell the truth.” He shrugged. “The embrace was enjoyable. At any time, I would have let her go had she raised an objection, and since she didn’t, we kept on because those kisses were quite—”

“Stop.” St. Vincent held up a hand. “I don’t want to know more. However, when I came upon you, Theresa didn’t sound like she felt the same.”

“I understand the confusion, for there was a marked change that I was trying to navigate before you came along and interrupted.” He took a step backward when the earl bristled.

Everyone in the party glanced at Lady Theresa, as if she would break down into hysterics. Though she seemed acutely uncomfortable, to her credit she straightened her spine and lifted her chin a smidgeon. Other ladies of her same class would have either fainted on the spot or cried foul in an effort to coerce him into asking for her hand. She did neither, and his respect for her rose.

“Leave it alone, Leo. Hedgecomb did nothing wrong, and you should grant him latitude since you’ve experienced the aftereffects of war.” When she sought out Harry’s gaze with hers, he quickly retied the knot of his cravat. “I let him continue on with the embrace for my own reasons that I don’t intend to share with you.”

“Yet you cried out as if you were in peril,” her brother persisted, and this time there was choked concern in his voice. “I’m trying to protect you.”

She shook her head. “That was my own response as well, for different reasons, and it had nothing to do with Hedgecomb’s handling of me.” Quickly, she focused her gaze on the ground, and suddenly Harry wanted to know what secrets she was keeping.

For long moments, St. Vincent remained silent. He bounced his regard between his wife and his sister, and when he finally focused on Harry, a muscle in his cheek ticced. “I’ve made my decision, and I’m doing my duty as a brother and the head of my family. Hedgecomb, I want you at my home tomorrow to discuss engagement contracts.”

Everything erupted into chaos again.

“What?” His exclamation was joined by hers.

“Why? You have overstepped, Leo!” She followed the outburst by stamping a foot.

But the earl wouldn’t be swayed. He kept his gaze on Harry. “You’ve clearly compromised my sister in public place. Now you’ll need to ask for her hand.”

“Yet you and Rachel are the only ones to come upon us,” the lady reasoned with a fierce frown. “Surely you both can overlook this little indiscretion and let us go about our lives.”

Harry, for his part, shook his head. “You know why marriage to me is a horrid idea,” he said in a low voice. “We just discussed this at the club not long ago.”

“While I have given both sides thought, I feel in the climate we all are living in, this is the best decision.” When the two of them tried to protest again, he held up a hand. “It’s the only way to fix this and keep her reputation intact and out of the gossipmonger’s hands.” He crossed his arms at his chest. “Quite frankly, I’m done with this foolishness when the both of you should know better. There are far more important things that require my attention; I refuse to leave my sister to the wolves or fate.”

When Harry attempted to take St. Vincent a few feet away from the ladies, the earl resisted. “Think about this, St. Vincent. Having your sister engaged to a rogue makes her a bigger target than merely being one of their sisters.”

A sharp inhalation preceded his answer. “At least this way she’ll have added protection, because I’m stretched thin, Hedgecomb,” he said in a barely audible voice. “I can no longer do it all, and I won’t let anything happen to her.”

“I understand, but—”

Lady Theresa interrupted Harry’s protest. “This is beyond high-handed and quite medieval, even for you, St. Vincent,” she said as she marched over to them and poked her brother in his chest with a forefinger. Tears tracked over her pale cheeks. “You told me you would never let me marry a man from your club, told me the men there were too broken and would either be a danger or a burden later, and that you were well aware of their pasts.” She dropped her voice. “That I deserved better.”

“You do. Oh, little sister, you do, but—”

“Then why the devil are you seeking to destroy what little remains of my life?” This time, her inquiry held a note of the hysteria missing from before.

“You must trust me. However, I think we can all agree that you did this to yourself, Theresa. I have always told you there were consequences to your actions. From the moment you decided to let Hedgecomb do those… things with you—to you—you quite sealed your fate, and I will hear no more protests.”

“But…” Even in the darkness of the gardens, her countenance paled. Harry assumed she would faint, but the countess wrapped an arm around her waist.

“For shame, St. Vincent, conducting such things in this place while Theresa is obviously suffering from reaction.” She tsked her tongue. “Come, love. Let’s walk back to the carriage. If the men wish to come to blows, they can, but I refuse to spend one more second out here in the dark and damp. It is not good for one’s health.” When she lifted an eyebrow, the earl uttered a curse beneath his breath.

“Fine, go.” St. Vincent waved them away then he glanced at Harry. “Tomorrow, my home at one o’clock, Hedgecomb, or by damn I’ll see you in Hyde Park for a duel.”

Dueling was illegal, of course, and every man at the Rogue’s Arcade knew that Harry was a crack shot, so calling for one was inadvisable at best. Truly, the man must be quite desperate.

“I shall be there, and for what it’s worth, I would have done the honorable thing without your influence or threats. She would have turned me down, but I would have offered regardless.” After all, he was well aware how society worked, and he wouldn’t leave her to the wolves either.

“I’m glad we understand each other, then.” St. Vincent nodded then trailed after the ladies.

With a sigh, Harry looked at their retreating figures. When Lady Theresa glanced back at him over her shoulder, she gave him a wry look and a half shrug. Though there wasn’t a grin on her lips, he understood the perilous position they were both in. He nodded and hoped she could see how sorry and earnest he was, but he feared it was too dark for any of that.

Bloody, bloody hell. This is going to be a terrible idea.