Page 3 of A Rogue for Christmas
She gave him a tremulous smile. “I am in your debt, my lord.”
Why did he want to take this young woman into his arms and tell her that he would protect her? She had protectors already. She knew that Seaford would kill any man who tried to take advantage of his wife’s sister. He’d issued the warning himself at White’s at the beginning of the season. But apparently Miller had a death wish.
Pushing aside the uncomfortable urge to protect Iris, he inclined his head. “Any true gentleman would do the same.”
She sighed. “And now I must face him. He’s going to approach me at some point this evening and ask me why I changed my mind about meeting him here.”
“If he comes anywhere near you, simply smile and offer him felicitations on his betrothal.”
That elicited a ghost of a smile. “I like the sound of that. And then I’ll make sure to spread the word about his upcoming marriage so he can’t lure some other simpleton out into the gardens.”
She was beginning to turn away again, but he couldn’t let her leave this way.
“Iris.”
She halted and turned back to face him. “Miller is a fool. You are worth ten, nay hundreds, of the other young women here. She has a great fortune to her name but little else to recommend her. You are beautiful and strong. Don’t forget that.”
She gave him a soft smile. “Never worry about that. When I’m finished spreading the word about how I overheard him trying to lure an unsuspecting victim for his debauchery into the gardens after he’d already offered for another…” She lifted one shoulder. “You are correct of course. I’m not the one who should be ashamed. Thank you for pointing that out.”
“I am very happy to be of service.”
And he was. He watched her go—and just in time. The widow entered the garden bower then, mere seconds after Iris had left. He winced as he thought about how the two would have crossed paths.
She threw herself into his arms, but his thoughts were too full of the young woman he’d just saved from ruin. His mood had soured. And if he was being honest with himself, he’d much rather speak to Iris Rowland than lift the skirts of this woman whose name he didn’t even know.
He pushed her away. “I’m afraid something has come up. I’m only here to tell you that we can’t slip away together.”
She pouted at him. “I’ve already said my goodbyes. If you need to leave, perhaps you can join me in my carriage.”
He watched how she leaned forward a little, giving him a tantalizing view of her breasts that were threatening to spill over the top of her dress. But the sight did little to entice him.
He needed to speak to Miller. Warn him away from Iris… from debauching any maiden, really, with false promises of a future he would never give them. That was the only reason he was no longer in the mood to dally. After he settled things with Miller—really, there were many experienced women who were more than willing to slip away for a quick tumble—then he could put thoughts of Iris behind him.
The widow finally slunk away, annoyance clear in her sullen expression and in the way she straightened her shoulders as she turned to leave.
He moved into the shadows and waited for Miller to arrive. Hopefully Iris wouldn’t run into him first. He very much wanted to have atalkwith the man.
CHAPTER2
Wentworth was jolted back to the present when the carriage slowed to a halt. He’d gone over that scene far too often in the past six months, allowing that brief encounter with Iris Rowland to take up too much of his thoughts.
That would change today. He would come to his senses when he saw her again and realized she was far too young and inexperienced for him. That he’d allowed some hitherto unknown sense of sentimentality to take hold.
He’d be on his way back to London tomorrow morning and would resume his normal life, unfettered by concerns for the young woman he’d saved from certain ruin.
A footman opened the carriage door, allowing cold air into the warm interior of the carriage. He stepped down, making a mental note to see that the driver was rewarded handsomely.
He glanced up at the clouds above as he crossed the short distance to the front door and couldn’t help but wonder if they were a sign snow was on the way. He pushed aside the grim thought of being trapped here for days and kept moving forward.
The butler swung the door open before he could raise a hand, and he was greeted by a small welcoming party. The dowager viscountess and Lady Thornton smiled in greeting and curtsied. Behind the two women, standing like vigilant sentries, were the two obstacles he’d have to overcome. Viscount Thornton and the Earl of Seaford.
Satisfaction swept through him at Seaford’s presence. If he was there, then it was likely his sister-in-law, Iris, would be also.
Lady Thornton was the first to speak. “We are so happy to have you here. But I must admit it came as something of a surprise to see your name on the guest list. It was my understanding that you didn’t like house parties.”
It seemed that Thornton’s wife had a backbone. Wentworth could respect that.
He bowed over her hand and smiled, doing his best to call forth all the charm for which he was famous. “I’ve heard so many wonderful things about your yearly Christmas gathering and sought an invitation. I am so pleased you were able to accommodate me.”
