To Bed a Beauty (Courtship Wars 2)

Roslyn shut her eyes, recalling her response to his erotic kisses, how she had come alive in his arms, all yearning hunger. The tremulous pulsing that still heated her body was a clear reminder that she was in deep trouble.

Moving to a chair, she sank down and raised a shaking hand to her temple. Her head still swam with drugged pleasure, her heart still pounded thickly. It was no wonder Arden was renowned as a marvelous lover. She had no doubt that he could make women weep with delight. He had the power to compel any woman to surrender, to want his possession…

But a rakish nobleman like the duke was only interested in physical pleasure, not love or marriage or children.

She had absolutely no future with him, and she would be an utter fool to let herself think otherwise.

No, Roslyn vowed. After this, she would keep far, far away from the Duke of Arden. Certainly she would never again ask him to give her any more lessons in seduction!

Chapter Nine

It is appalling to realize how easily he can make me behave like a perfect wanton.

– Roslyn to Fanny

“Where have you been, Roslyn dear?” Winifred demanded over the din of the crowded ballroom. “I expected you an hour ago.”

“Some matters at home required my attention,” Roslyn replied, which was only partly true. She had arrived late to the Haviland ball chiefly to avoid one particular arousing nobleman. She hadn’t wanted to face Arden after their fervent embrace in the library last week.

In fact, she hadn’t seen him since, and would have eschewed tonight’s ball altogether except that she’d promised Lord Haviland she would attend.

“You missed the reception line,” Winifred’s raucous voice sounded over the musicians and the throng of guests. “But it is turning out to be a fine party.”

It was indeed a veritable crush-a sure sign of success. Roslyn was pleased for Lord Haviland, although she would have preferred less noise and heat. The blaze from myriad glittering chandeliers overhead, combined with the press of so many splendidly garbed bodies, made the ballroom almost oppressive.

Yet before Roslyn could reply, Winifred took her to task. “I am disappointed in you, my girl. First you arrive late, then you hide yourself on the sidelines. That is not what balls are for. You should be dancing.”

“It is too warm to dance,” Roslyn replied, fanning herself with the gilded fan she wore looped at her wrist.

“Pah,” her friend scoffed. “You can bear a little warmth for one evening. But you need a partner.” Winifred searched the crowd. “I wonder where Arden is. He was kind enough to escort me here, but then he disappeared into one of the card rooms shortly after we arrived.”

Roslyn bit back her exasperation at Winifred’s continued matchmaking efforts. “Thank you, Winifred, but I can manage my own affairs.”

“His friend, that handsome Marquess of Claybourne, is here also, although I haven’t seen him lately. It is too bad Lily couldn’t come tonight. ’Struth, I cannot believe she elected to go to Hampshire just now. The marquess is such an eligible parti.”

Roslyn hesitated to reply. Lily had set out for London last week to stay at Fanny’s boardinghouse, but she hadn’t wanted their meddlesome patron to know her whereabouts. Lily had no desire to be the victim of Winifred’s machinations or to be thrown at Lord Claybourne’s head again.

“You know Lily doesn’t care for balls, Winifred,” Roslyn said carefully. “She would much rather be visiting friends at our old home in Hampshire.”

Which was technically true, even if that was merely the fabrication Lily wanted to use to misdirect Winifred.

Roslyn almost wished she had accompanied her sister to London, for then she wouldn’t be bedeviled by a certain other handsome nobleman. As it was, the duke was befuddling her thoughts and playing total havoc with her peace of mind. She didn’t want to remember their last encounter, how Arden had kissed her and caressed her and led her into a whirlpool of sensation that left her dazed and aching.

She was rudely brought back to the present, however, when she realized Winifred was speaking again. “…you wait here, I will fetch the duke so he can partner you.”

Dismayed at the thought of having to dance with Arden, Roslyn shook her head. “Pray excuse me, Winifred, but I had best find Lord Haviland and make my apologies.”

Hurriedly she moved away, searching the crowd for the earl. She felt fortunate to spy him at one end of the ballroom, but then frowned to realize he was surrounded by a group of adoring young ladies-her competition, Roslyn surmised.

She had made little progress thus far in her campaign to win Haviland, for he’d spent much of his time in London this

past week at his grandmother’s behest. In the interval, Roslyn had met twice more with his housekeeper and butler to plan the menus for the evening, but she’d had no opportunity for intimacy with the earl, except when he’d politely brushed a kiss to her fingers upon saying farewell at her second visit. And tonight he was occupied with playing host.

When she drew closer, however, she could see that not all the ladies in his party were young; one was positively ancient. She suspected that was Haviland’s elderly grandmother, for whom he claimed to bear a great fondness. When the venerable dame struck him on his arm with her fan, he threw back his dark head and laughed.

Not wishing to attempt a seduction in front of so many witnesses, Roslyn decided to wait to approach Haviland. When she detoured to the refreshment table to find a glass of punch, she passed by the open French doors and caught a waft of cool evening breeze. Wistfully Roslyn wondered how soon she could slip away from the ball. She had walked across the rear lawns of their adjoining estates rather than summon a carriage, not only to spare the servants the trouble, but so she could retreat easily if need be. She couldn’t politely take her leave for at least another hour, though.

At the moment, she couldn’t even have a comfortable coze with Tess Blanchard, since Tess was pleasantly occupied dancing. A fellow teacher at the academy, Tess had been one of the Loring sisters’ closest friends for the past four years, ever since they moved to the neighborhood to live with their step-uncle. And like the Loring sisters, Tess found herself hard-pressed to avoid Winifred’s meddlesome matchmaking.