To Bed a Beauty (Courtship Wars 2)

And if so, what would Roslyn herself have to say about it?

Her limbs still a little weak from her clash with the infuriating duke, Roslyn made the decision to leave the ball at once. She had accomplished what she intended. She’d danced with Lord Haviland and received an invitation to go driving with him tomorrow. There was nothing more to be gained by remaining.

And there was very good reason to escape-not the least of which was to regain command of her scattered wits. Every time she encountered Arden, he roused more turmoil in her.

How could she have allowed him to rile her into nearly making a scene with half the ton as witnesses, including Lord Haviland and his haughty relations? She had intended to ignore Arden’s very existence tonight. Instead she had let him provoke her into an unladylike altercation right there on the ballroom floor.

While it was true the duke could improve her consequence by showing her a measure of polite attention, any more intimate interest would only be detrimental. She couldn’t afford to give rise to gossip, not with the scandals attached to her family name. And if anyone discovered what had already passed between her and the duke, it might very well destroy any chance for her to win Haviland’s heart, not to mention a respectable proposal of marriage.

When Roslyn had retrieved her silk shawl and reticule from the Haviland butler, she made her way through the house to the rear terrace, where she was taken aback to find Arden waiting for her.

Coming to an abrupt halt, she stared at him in frustration. “What the devil are you doing here, your grace?”

He was leaning against the stone balustrade but pushed away when he saw her. “I thought you might decide to leave early.”

“So?”

“So I intend to accompany you home. With a highwayman at large, you should have the protection of an escort.”

His offering her protection was like a tiger offering to guard a lamb, Roslyn thought crossly. “Thank you, but I do not need your escort. I am just walking next door, and there are no highwaymen in the gardens.”

“Nevertheless, I don’t intend to let you go alone.”

There was a subtle challenge in his eyes that dared her to refuse him.

She gave in with a sigh. Arden fell in beside her as she descended the steps and set out across the estate grounds, easily matching his long stride to her shorter, more hurried one.

There was ample moonlight to see by, and the July evening held a welcome coolness after the warmth of the ballroom. In the distance, she could hear the rustle of water as the River Thames meandered its lazy path to London at the rear of the estate grounds.

Her unwanted escort remained silent as they traversed the gravel paths. Roslyn made for the side gate that offered entrance to the Danvers gardens. When Arden opened it for her and allowed her through, she wished he would leave her there. But he followed her inside and shut it behind him.

There were few lights on in the house, Roslyn saw, since most of the servants had already retired to bed.

When she reached a side door to the manor, she paused to say over her shoulder, “Thank you for your escort, your grace, but now you may return to the ball with a clear conscience.”

His voice, low and intent, came to her. “Roslyn…stay a moment.”

She turned reluctantly at his request. “Why?”

He didn’t answer for a long moment. He simply stared down at her, as if debating with himself.

Roslyn gazed up at him distractedly, wondering how she had managed to end up in a moonlit garden with Arden. She deplored the thrilling, edgy quiver of nerves that being alone with him in the dark engendered in her. She found her gaze dropping to his mouth, that firm sensuous mouth that could kiss so marvelously…

“I don’t want you driving out with Haviland tomorrow,” he finally said.

“Whyever not?”

“Because I don’t want you trying to seduce him when I intend to court you myself.”

Her gaze abruptly lifted to his, wide and disbelieving. “I beg your pardon? You intend to court me?”

“That is what I said.” There was a note of dry amusement in his voice, as if not even he could believe his declaration.

“Court me?” Roslyn repeated. “As in prelude to marriage? That makes no sense. You don’t want to marry anyone, you’ve said so in no uncertain terms.”

“So I did. But I have since changed my mind.”

“If you are making game of me-”