Page 19 of An Affair with a Notorious Heiress
She jerked her head back as though truly surprised by his words. “Then why bring her?”
“Because it is what a gentleman does.”
“You’re giving her false expectations regarding how you will treat her.” Her tone was harsh and angry, leaving him to wonder what false expectations Landsdowne had delivered.
“How so?”
“You’ll bring her to the theater while you’re courting her but not after you’re married to her.”
Had Landsdowne done that? Treated her one way before the marriage, another after? “I have a box for which I pay handsomely so it is always available. Without question, I’ll bring her to the theater after we’re married if that’s what she wishes.” He nearly groaned in frustration. Why the devil had he said that? He wasn’t going to be bringing her to the theater after she was married because she was going to be married to someone else. Thank God, Gina didn’t seem to have heard him as she was leaning forward, looking over the balcony at the patrons below, clearly more interested in whom she might recognize than any ludicrous conversation he was having with her annoying sister.
Lady Landsdowne narrowed her eyes, leaving him with the impression she saw him as being no better than a dung beetle. “Easy enough to make a promise before you’re married.”
Her voice was a harsh whisper as though she would flay him if she could. She sat in judgment when she knew nothing at all about him, about how hard he strived to be good and proper. It was deuced irritating to think she might be painting him with Landsdowne’s brush.
“I’m not in the habit of being other than I am. Nor do I go back on my word.” He lowered himself until his face was even with hers, taking perverse delight in the widening of her eyes. “Nor am I sitting on the front row whilst a lady sits behind me. So you can either sit beside me back here or move up to sit beside your sister. But rest assured, madam, your obstinacy will not sway me from my course.”
She looked as though she was considering the benefits of spitting at him. Finally she rose in a rush that had her skirts rustling and her breasts very nearly skimming along his nose before he leaped back. “I thank you for the kindness.” Although she didn’t sound at all grateful. Rather she sounded quite put out with him. He didn’t know why he took satisfaction in that. Perhaps her anger would dampen his lust toward her, as he’d seldom had to deal with a woman’s fury and wasn’t particularly keen on dealing with it now.
Only once they were settled, and he was behind her, he realized her wrath served to dampen nothing at all. He couldn’t even admit to being put off by it. Instead he marveled at the fire and suspected she brought the same ardor to her bed.
He stared at the length of her neck, imagined trailing his mouth over every inch of exposed skin, lapping along her nape, past her shoulders. Unfastening her gown until he could reach the dimples above her backside. Did she have dimples? He rather suspected she did. The thought caused him to grow so hard that he very nearly groaned.
Suddenly the curtains were flung aside and footsteps sounded as his brother rushed in, then staggered to a stop. Rexton came to his feet, hoping the ladies didn’t turn around. His hopes were dashed, but it appeared they were taken with the intruder rather than noticing the bulge evident in his trousers.
“You’re using your box,” Andrew said in a tone one might use to greet someone who had risen from the dead.
Rexton had spoken true. He wasn’t fond of the theater but most ladies were so it behooved a gentleman to have a box handy for when a lady might need a bit of wooing. His brother often made use of it, usually accompanied by a bit of silk, but this evening he was alone. “Yes, it is my box after all.”
But Andrew seemed not to have heard him. His attention had shifted to the ladies. “My, my, looks as though you’re planning to have double the fun later tonight.”
“Watch your tongue, Andrew. These are ladies.”
“My apologies. I just didn’t realize—”
Before his brother could complete a thought that might reveal he wasn’t truly in the hunt for a wife, Rexton said, “Lady Landsdowne, Miss Hammersley, allow me to introduce my younger brother, Lord Andrew Mabry.”
Andrew took the countess’s hand, bent gallantly over it, and pressed a kiss to its back. “Your beauty exceeds expectations. It is a pleasure.”
When Lady Landsdowne smiled tightly at Andrew, Rexton fought the urge to shove his brother over the balcony.
“A pleasure, my lord.”
Moving past her, he gave the same attention to Gina. “I’m honored.”
“As am I, my lord.”
“You are the sort about whom poems are written.”
Rexton rolled his eyes, while at the same time seeing Lady Landsdowne’s lips twitch with amusement at his brother’s atrocious flirting skills. He wondered why she found fault with his own wooing talents, why she was so suspicious of them—perhaps because she could see right through him, knew he had no real interest in her sister whereas his brother’s attention was merely harmless flattery.
The lights began to dim, the curtains were drawing aside, and only then did Andrew release his hold of Gina’s hand. He looked at Rexton. “Mind if I join you?”
“Not at all.” But he forced his brother to glide past him to the seat behind Gina because Rexton had no plans to give up his view of Lady Landsdowne.
“The notorious heiress,” Andrew whispered. “What the devil are you doing with her?”
Rexton was beginning to hate that moniker. He had yet to see the countess exhibit any sort of notorious behavior, not that he wouldn’t like to. But what he had in mind involved them both naked and rolling around on satin sheets, limbs tangled, his mouth doing wicked things between her thighs while hers was doing equally tawdry things between his. “I’m with Miss Hammersley. The countess is merely serving as chaperone.”
