A Little Bit Sinful (20 page)

“First, allow me to help you dress.”

She nodded, then sat quietly as he restored her undergarments to their correct location, then fastened the buttons on the back of her gown.

“Thank you.”

Sebastian fixed his gaze toward the darkened windows, wondering if he could help Eleanor out one and then take her through the terraced gardens around the side of the house. There were too many doors leading from the gardens into the ballroom for Peterson to be watching all of them.

“Can you climb out the window?” he asked.

“Now?” Eleanor looked toward the windows, then gave him a dubious glance. “‘Tis very dark out there and rather a long drop. Aren’t we on the second floor of the house?”

Sebastian shook his head. “You’re right. ‘Tis a foolish plan. We’ll wait a few more minutes, then I’ll leave without you. As soon as I find someone to help, I’ll send them here. They can escort you back to the party.”

“Someone?”

“Someone I trust. If you enter the ballroom with
another man, Peterson won’t even consider you as a possibility for my
chère-amie.”

Eleanor nodded. “It seems a logical plan. The last thing I want is a scandal. ‘Twould anger the earl and reflect badly upon my sister, hurting her chances to make a good match.”

Pondering Eleanor’s words, Sebastian removed a thin silver case from his inside pocket. The threat of scandal distressed her, yet her first thought was not for herself, but rather for her sister.

He extracted a thin cheroot. Holding it aloof, he asked, “May I?”

“Only if you let me try it.” He raised his brow and she grinned. “I’ve always wanted to taste one.”

He set the cheroot to his lips, lit it, then coaxed the tobacco to life. After exhaling a long stream of smoke, he handed it to Eleanor.

She examined it carefully before placing it between her own lips.
Lord above.
The sight of her eager mouth gently encircling the cheroot was one of the most sensual things he had ever seen. Sebastian hissed in a breath as his mind filled with erotic images of her taking him inside that lovely, wet mouth.

“Suck in a bit more,” he instructed, the ache below growing harder.

“Oh.” She wheezed, coughing hard and spewing out puffs of smoke. “‘Tis dreadful. It tastes like ashes.”

He took the cheroot from her hand, then produced a handkerchief so she could wipe her tearing eyes. “I suppose it requires time to develop an enjoyment for it,” he speculated.

“Hmm,” she muttered, before launching into
another fit of coughs. “I now understand why ladies are discouraged from smoking.”

Smiling, he held out the burning ember, but she declined a second puff. Sebastian took in a few more lungfuls before tossing the rest of it into the fireplace, then turned to Eleanor. As much as he wanted to avoid it, he knew it was time to return to the ball. “You’ll wait here, as I asked?”

Her head bowed in a faint nod.

The library was eerily quiet once he had gone. Eleanor paced restlessly, longing to leave, feeling trapped and alone. What if Mr. Peterson had already started blabbing about what he had seen? Surely that would bring one or two curious individuals to the library. And then everyone would know it was she who had been locked in an embrace with the viscount.

How would she possibly explain her behavior? To her sister? And her father?

A cold shiver of dread moved over Eleanor’s spine. She could hardly imagine what the earl would do and say if she created a scandal. All she did know with certainty was that he would be furious and brutal toward her.

I must leave! Now!
Eleanor scurried to the door, her hand reaching anxiously for the knob. She turned it, yanked the door open, then hesitated, her promise to Sebastian echoing in her head. She had heard the viscount was involved with scores of women, yet there had been no great scandal, no sordid disgrace for any of these females. Somehow, Sebastian had managed to protect them.

Slowly Eleanor pushed the door shut. She must put her faith in him. He said he would take care of
things. While it was difficult for her to trust most men, she needed to believe that Sebastian would protect her too.

Sighing, she slowly circled the perimeter of the library. Locating a small sideboard, she noticed a decanter filled with amber liquid and glasses positioned by its side. Eleanor lifted the crystal stopper and took a whiff of the decanter contents.
Brandy.

She poured a small amount into one of the crystal tumblers. It would be foolish indeed to return to the ballroom tipsy, but she needed something to calm her nerves. She tried to sip the drink, but her agitation got the better of her and she finished it off in three quick swallows.

The potent spirits spread through her body with a soothing warmth, relaxing away some of her tension. Some, but not all.

There was a knock on the door. Biting the inside of her lip, Eleanor straightened her shoulders and raised her chin, then watched in astonishment as the Duke of Hansborough entered the room.

“Lady Eleanor?” His eyebrow lifted sardonically as he cast her an appraising look.

“Your Grace.” Words failed her. She sank into a graceful curtsy, her mind working furiously. What was he doing here? Had Peterson already told the tale of finding the viscount in the library? Was the duke here trying to discover if the story were true?

“I was asked to escort you back to the ball,” the duke declared.

Eleanor looked at him hesitantly. “You seemed so surprised to see me, Your Grace. I wasn’t certain if Seb … Lord Benton had sent you.”

“Oh, he sent me all right. Arrogant cur.”

“Did he tell you why?”

“No.” The duke gave a humorless laugh. “Knowing Benton, ‘tis something disgraceful, I’m sure, though I am shocked to discover it involves you. Thought you had more sense. For a woman.”

“Well, I—”

The duke held up his hand, waving it insistently in front of her. “Cease. I don’t want to know. Benton asked for my help and I’m providing it. Now take my arm and I’ll see you safely back to the ballroom.”

Eleanor’s face flooded with heat. This was simply ghastly. She wanted very much to toss her head and refuse his help, but something in his gaze convinced her that would be very foolish indeed.

With as much dignity as she could muster, Eleanor placed her hand on the duke’s outstretched arm. He grunted his approval and left the library. They walked the hallways silently, taking a different route than the way she had come. Eleanor speculated it was to avoid meeting any of the other guests, but she did not ask. It was simply too embarrassing.

After what felt like an eternity they arrived at the ballroom. Eleanor’s heart thumped loudly in her breast, and her fingers tightened on the duke’s arm.

“Chin up, eyes forward, cool, haughty glances at anyone who dares to level a curious look at you,” the duke instructed as he nearly pulled her through the archway. “And for God’s sake, try not to appear guilty.”

Eleanor held her breath as she tried to follow the duke’s advice. She braced herself, trying to prepare for anything, then gradually realized there was no need. No one gasped in sudden outrage, or
twittered behind their fans, or pointed accusing fingers in her direction.

“Would you care to dance?” she asked the duke.

“An excellent idea.”

They joined the last set as it formed. Eleanor tried to concentrate on the steps of the dance but could not prevent herself from looking about the room. She stumbled when she caught sight of Arthur Peterson, but he barely spared her a glance. The duke’s arm shot out to steady her. He looked at her curiously and she gave him a withering stare.

“Good girl,” he said.

Eleanor smiled openly, realizing disaster had been averted. She was safe from detection, thanks to Sebastian’s plan.

She was feeling relaxed when the music drew to a close and ready to strike out on her own again. She linked her arm through the duke’s as they left the floor, comfortable enough to be less formal with him.

“Thank you for your assistance, Your Grace. ‘Tis much appreciated.”

The duke hesitated. “I’ve no right to give you advice, but I’m going to anyway. I’ve known Benton since he was a young pup. He’s managed to reform some of his wilder behavior these past few months, but a leopard can never truly change its spots. As far as I know, he’s never ruined a woman for the sheer pleasure of it, but anything is possible. Be very careful, Lady Eleanor, lest you get tangled up in some nasty business.”

His lecture delivered, the duke bowed and left. Eleanor watched him disappear into the crowd with
mixed feelings. A moment later she sensed someone coming up behind her. Eleanor turned and to her relief saw it was Bianca.

“I have just heard the most scandalous gossip about Viscount Benton,” Bianca whispered.

“Really?” Nerves pounding, Eleanor tried to appear nonchalant.

Bianca glanced over her shoulder, making certain no one was near enough to overhear. “Apparently the viscount arranged a tryst in the library this evening and was caught in a most compromising position.” She paused dramatically. “Both he and his female companion were discovered stark naked!”

“Oh my.” Eleanor could feel the pulse beating rapidly in her neck. “Who was the woman?”

“No one is saying. ‘Twas Arthur Peterson who found them, yet he refuses to divulge the lady’s name, claiming he wishes to salvage her reputation. I asked Lord Waverly his opinion and he said that Peterson is one of the biggest gossips in London. The only reason he’s not saying is because he probably doesn’t know.”

“Hmm, well, perhaps Mr. Peterson can’t offer details because the incident never occurred?” Eleanor suggested.

“No, I’m sure there is something to the tale. Lord Waverly believes Peterson lacks the imagination to totally fabricate a story on his own. There must be some truth to it.”

Eleanor forced a casual tone. “The details will most likely never be known, unless Lord Benton
decides to defend himself against the malicious gossip and punish the person who started the rumors.”

Bianca’s eyes widened. “By calling out Mr. Peterson? Lord Waverly says Benton is a lethal shot and an excellent swordsman. I fear it would end very badly for Mr. Peterson.”

“Oh, I doubt it will come to a duel,” Eleanor said confidently, though she wondered precisely how the viscount would handle the situation. True, he had warned the man to keep silent, yet challenging Peterson directly could lend more credence to the story. Laughing it off as pure fiction might be the better route. “Lord Benton might be scandalous, but he is hardly bloodthirsty.”

“Whatever he is, I am just glad that I followed your advice about him. By all accounts he is
not
a gentleman intent on settling down and being faithful to one woman.”

“You want me to do what?” Sebastian exclaimed, staring at Eleanor in astonishment.

“I want you to help me find a husband for Bianca,” Eleanor repeated calmly.

“That’s what I thought you said.” His gray eyes widened. “I swear, I am speechless.”

“Hmm.” She took a dainty bite of her ice and regarded him seriously. This was the first time they had spoken privately since the Tauntons’ ball, four days ago. The gossip about Sebastian and his infamous tryst was no longer a main topic of discussion among the
ton,
making it safe for them to appear together in public.

Mr. Peterson had been effectively silenced, by means Eleanor could only imagine, but it was the sudden elopement of Miss Allen and Lord Mortley that had taken center stage in the rumor mill. The bad blood between their two families was legendary, going back so many generations that no one could say with any certainty what started the original feud.

Yet somehow these two individuals were able to
look beyond their legacy and fall in love. Knowing the consent to marry would not be forthcoming from either family, the two lovers had elected to run away together.

Ladies were sighing over the details, gentlemen were convinced there was more to the story than had been told, and everyone was clamoring to know the truth of the matter. In her heart Eleanor wished the couple well, yet she was grateful their escapade had relegated the viscount’s indiscretion inconsequential.

Coming to Gunter’s this afternoon to enjoy an ice together was an inspired idea and Eleanor was pleased Sebastian had suggested it. This public setting was the perfect place to have a private moment.

There was a sizable crowd partaking of the delectable frozen concoctions. The temperature had been unseasonably warm, yet Eleanor believed the crowds still would have come if it were the middle of winter, for the frozen treat was unique and delicious.

Eleanor was aware of the speculative glances cast at their table. She was certain everyone was wondering why someone as handsome and sophisticated as Viscount Benton would choose to spend time with someone as plain and simple as herself. It was a natural question, one Eleanor had pondered herself.

Until that night in the Tauntons’ library. Memories of his kisses, his caresses, remained crisp and clear in her mind. She might not understand why, but she was convinced that Sebastian’s desire for her was genuine. And she gloried in it.

“I believe the cold ice has affected your brain,” Sebastian finally replied. “You cannot seriously
expect me to assist you in finding a husband for your sister.”

“Oh, I am most serious.” Eleanor shook off his objections and took another bite of her ice. The cool, sweet taste of lemon burst upon her tongue and slid down her throat with ease. Sighing, she closed her eyes and savored the moment. It was a most extraordinary sensory experience.

Opening her eyes, Eleanor lifted her spoon and noticed Sebastian was giving her a strange gaze. “Why are you staring at me? Have I spilled something on my face?” She hastily rubbed her chin with the linen handkerchief she had in her hand, but the cloth came away empty.

“Watching you eat your ice is nothing short of sensual torture,” he admitted, gazing very directly into her eyes. “If you don’t behave yourself, I shall have to dump a dish of it on my lap in order to stand without disgracing myself.”