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A man who’d also, for a fraught moment, made her long for his kiss—in a way she had never, a little voice added, longed for Rob’s.
Shocked by the thought, Allegra gave a little gasp. She looked up quickly, but her escort, occupied by the traffic on the roadway, did not appear to have noticed.
From whence had that nonsensical notion come? she wondered. Of course she wanted Rob to kiss her! Hadn’t she dreamed for years of having him carry her off across his saddle bow? And of course, when he did, she would experience the same warmth in the belly and tingling in the breasts she felt when Tavener fixed her with one of his hot gazes, or murmured his delicious improprieties.
Which was precisely the point, she reassured herself. Rob had never looked at or spoken to her thus, so how could she have felt such reactions? Far too proper and honorable to trifle with the sensibilities of a virtuous maiden, he’d never allow his desire to be revealed in warm glances or tempting speeches, most likely not until after his chosen lady had consented to become his wife.
She knew she hadn’t mistaken the gleam of sensual appreciation she’d seen several times in his eyes, when he didn’t realize she knew he was looking at her. Maybe she ought to somehow inveigle ways to get him alone and encourage him to act on his attraction. Perhaps if she could entice him to acknowledge his desire, he would recognize it was permissible to see her as more than the kindred spirit of his youth. That it was a natural and honorable progression to allow himself to view her as a woman, a lady for whom he could feel both love and passion.
Encouraged by that conclusion, she was smiling again when Tavener pulled up his horses at the Lynton town house.
CHAPTER EIGHT
AFTER ESCORTING Miss Antinori to her front door, Will set off toward home in thoughtful silence, his mind replaying the incident in the park.
He would indeed like to keep Allegra Antinori for himself, he thought ruefully. But as loath to bring harm to her as he would be to injure Lucilla, he must in future be more careful. No more excursions without her chaperone, alas. And if men like Fitzhugh and Markham were going to come sniffing around—with her allure, how could any man resist?—he would also have to watch his conversation, that he give none of them any cause to treat her with the insulting familiarity Fitzhugh had exhibited in the park.
At least, he’d have to watch what he said when there were others nearby. Recalling some of their warmer exchanges, he had to smile. Clever and worldly enough to have caught some of his sensual references, she was still an innocent—a combination as fascinating as it was unique.
Both his senses and his extensive experience with women promised him that beneath the untouched exterior of that luscious body lay a depth of passion just waiting for the right man to awaken it. Ah, that he might be that man!
Damping down the immediate surge of desire the idea evoked, he sighed. ’Twas a shame she was not the opera dancer or chanteuse her dusky beauty hinted at. Were she a lady of small virtue, he would know just how to proceed, luring her into a delightful game that would lead eventually to its inevitable, satisfying conclusion.
But Miss Antinori was a genteel virgin. The fact that she responded—and knew she responded—to the sensual banter he couldn’t seem to refrain from indulging in around her both excited and disturbed him.
Theirs could be no casual, mutually enjoyable tryst. If she followed where desire prompted him to lead her, that road must end in marriage.
Which was exactly what Lucilla was urging. But not with Miss Antinori. His cousin had made it clear last night that though she had nothing against the girl personally, given her dubious upbringing and the tarnish on his own reputation, he ought to bypass her and pursue a lady of unquestioned character.
He had to admit that along with his curiosity to discover if Miss Antinori would be as intriguing in daylight as she’d been in the glow of the candelabra, irritation at Lucilla’s sensible advice had prompted him to call on her. As he’d suspected, a further acquaintance with Miss Antinori only confirmed the qualities of wit and intelligence he’d glimpsed the previous night. In addition to the ever-present sensual allure, she was an interesting and delightful companion.
But it was more than that. Some…connection he couldn’t put a name to drew him to her, something he’d never felt before. The strength of that pull was both compelling and unsettling.
He enjoyed women, the warmth of their voices, the softness of their bodies, the rush of sexual release they afforded, and several times his chere-amies had gone on to become friends. The feelings Miss Antinori engendered, however, were stronger, sharper…different in a way beyond his previous experience.
Through hard and bitter effort he’d carved himself a small, relatively secure niche in an indifferent world, peopled it with a few friends on whom he could depend. Though by no means sure he was suited for matrimony, he supposed he could enlarge that small store of affection to include fondness for a wife. But some instinctive premonition warned him that Miss Antinori might elicit in him feelings far more intense than mere fondness.
For an instant, a sick feeling resonated in the pit of his stomach, a muted echo of the desperate loneliness and isolation he’d felt as a child. He had no desire to stumble into wanting something—or someone—so keenly that he risked a devastation similar to what he’d felt as a five-year-old when he lost his parents and with them, his whole world. Perhaps it would be prudent to abandon his pursuit of Miss Antinori.
Even as the thought formed, he shook his head and laughed. ’Twas no reason to turn so melodramatic. Miss Antinori posed no real danger; he was only unsettled because she didn’t fit neatly into either of the two categories into which he’d previously divided all women—” virtuous lady” or “knowing wench.”
And as little suited for it as he might be, he mustn’t dismiss out of hand the idea of matrimony—not while it represented a chance to restore Brookwillow. Since Miss Antinori was the most interesting eligible female he’d met, he might as well charm Lucilla into investigating whether the girl’s dowry would be sufficient for that purpose.
There was no assurance he’d be able to win her even if he tried. Lord Lynton had already made it abundantly clear he would not encourage Will’s pursuit.
His amusement faded as he recalled the look Miss Antinori’s escort had given him when he’d walked into the ballroom and found them together. Under eyes as cold as the English Channel in January, Lynton’s lips had settled almost into a sneer, as if Will were polluting the purity of the girl’s hand by holding it. A reaction that immediately inspired in Will the desire to pull her closer.
The young Lynton he’d known at school had grown into exactly the sort of gentleman that drove Will to prod and needle until he found some pretext upon which to challenge him to a bout of fisticuffs. A man so supremely confident of his own self-worth, so arrogantly dismissive of those who did not meet his standards. A man who’d possessed from birth all the advantages of breeding, position and wealth.
A wolfish grin stole over Will’s face. He would have to pursue Miss Antinori, if only to further disgruntle the Peerless Hero. He simply couldn’t walk away from the challenge she presented, just as he’d never turned his back on a fight, even as a scrawny lad set upon by bigger boys.
He thrust out of mind the small voice whispering that losing his heart to the intriguing Miss Antinori might batter him more severely than the worst beating he’d ever suffered as a pugilist.
STILL SMILING, Allegra was climbing the stairs to her bedchamber when Hobbs waved at her from the first-floor landing. “Master Rob be wishful of seeing you in the library at your convenience, Miss Allegra.”
Delight and anticipation filled her chest. “Tell him I’ll be there shortly.” Hurrying to her chamber, Allegra called Lizzie to help her quickly change her gown. What might Rob want to discuss with her?
One window of Rob’s library overlooked the back garden, the other, the street, she recalled. Had Rob seen her returning with Tavener? If he was summoning her immediately after viewing them together, might he be jealous—or at least disapproving? If so, perhaps her scheme was working!
As soon as Lizzie had her afternoon gown pinned in place, she hurried down to the library.
She entered to find Rob sitting at his desk, a scowl on his face. Hoping she knew the reason for it, she said brightly, “Good afternoon, Rob. My, what a frown! Is something wrong?”
As he saw her, his brow cleared and he put on a smile of his own. “Please, sit. No, nothing is amiss—that is, nothing that cannot be corrected.”
Allegra took a chair. “How can I help you, then?”
Rob opened his mouth, closed it and sighed. “’Tis a delicate matter,” he began again. “One does not wish to offend Lady Domcaster or the Carlisle family, but drat it, you simply mustn’t encourage Tavener! I realize there’s nothing you can do to forestall a morning call properly paid, but you need not go driving with the fellow!”
Savoring the jealousy she hoped was responsible for some of Rob’s vehemence, Allegra replied, “But he drove his curricle, with us in the open for all to see.” Wanting to emphasize how carefully she’d observed the proprieties, she added, “We visited the Elgin marbles and the park, which Mrs. Randall said was perfectly unexceptional.”
