Lord Fox's Pleasure. Helen Dickson

shortage of ladies at the Court in The Hague, Lord Fox?’ she scoffed, knowing to her cost that this had not been the case, for hadn’t Adam become smitten and married one Lucy Ludlow?

      ‘My time was not spent at Court.’

      ‘I see,’ she replied, her interest pricked and sorely tempted to ask about his travels in the East. But she thought better of it, not wishing to become too friendly with this man who had publicly embarrassed her and disconcerted her in a way no other man had done before. ‘Kindly say what you have to say and then go.’

      Coolly ignoring her request, Lucas turned sideways so that the lantern light fell full on his features; with one shoulder propped negligently on the trunk of the tree, his arms crossed loosely across his chest, his gaze captured hers.

      Prudence could not help but admire the way he looked. Clad in midnight blue velvet overlaid with silver lace, his appearance from the jewelled buckles on his shoes to his black hair was impeccable. Broad shouldered, narrow of waist and with long muscular legs, he gave the appearance of an athlete and, judging by his bronzed skin, of a man who had seen active service in some foreign land, a man who rode and fenced and hunted.

      ‘I want to apologise for my behaviour this afternoon. It was highly reprehensible and I beg your pardon. I had no idea you were Thomas’s sister.’

      ‘And if you had, no doubt you would have forced your attentions on some other poor unsuspecting woman in the crowd,’ Prudence said, averting her gaze, in danger of becoming entrapped by the compelling, incredible glow in his eyes.

      Her chilled contempt hit Lucas in the face, and he answered with slow deliberation. ‘I have never forced my attentions on any woman, and I am not in the habit of taking that which is not freely given. I assure you, Mistress Fairworthy, that when you threw your posy of flowers and it landed in my lap, when I looked and saw you, it was a temptation that I could not resist. You were by far the prettiest maid in the crowd.’

      Prudence felt her cheeks grow hot and she was glad the darkness did much to hide her blush. There was an aggressive vitality in Lord Fox’s bold gaze and an assertive arrogance in the set of his jaw that was not to her liking. ‘I imagine you’ve said that to many women, Lord Fox. How many have you said it to and been sincere?’

      Lucas’s white teeth gleamed behind a lopsided grin. ‘Only those I have a fancy for—and I never lie. I was hoping that since we are to be neighbours and you are Thomas’s sister, when we return home you and I can be friends.’

      Prudence gasped at his arrogance. ‘I don’t think we can ever be that,’ she retorted ungraciously. ‘Being my brother’s friend does not give you some kind of claim on me.’ Mutinously she glared up at him. ‘The harm you did to my reputation today stands between us, Lord Fox.’

      ‘I have no doubt that Thomas will take me to account over it, and he will be justified in doing so. There was a time when, for a gentleman to make a public spectacle of a young lady, he would have been obliged to marry her, but on such a day as this—with passions and emotions running out of control, and because we are about to embark on a more liberal age—I don’t think your brother will demand that I do.’

      ‘I shall see to it personally that he does not,’ Prudence bit back.

      Lucas relinquished his stance against the tree and edged towards her. His grin became wolfish, and he raised an eyebrow with an amusement that exasperated Prudence.

      ‘Would you care for a repeat performance—without an audience this time?’ he drawled softly.

      Prudence saw the look in his eyes, and her heart began to beat uncontrollably, while a warning screamed inside her head. ‘Don’t you dare come near me,’ she whispered desperately, trying to deny the traitorous warmth seeping through her. ‘I haven’t forgiven you for the last time. If you kiss me again, I’ll never forgive you,’ she responded, panic rising inside her like a fluttering, trapped butterfly. She felt her face grow hot, the heat spreading at his nakedly desirous look. It was a look to assess her feelings and thoughts, an invitation, a need, and a certainty, and Prudence, who never had any perception of anyone else’s thoughts, found herself floundering inside.

      Her threat only seemed to please Lucas more. ‘What a bloodthirsty little wench you are,’ he chuckled. ‘No matter. I can see I’m going to have my work cut out getting you to change your opinion of me.’

      ‘Don’t put yourself out. I have no opinion of you, Lord Fox.’

      ‘Yes, you have. Tell me—didn’t you like kissing me, Mistress Fairworthy?’ he asked, his gypsy eyes observing her with frank interest, his gaze dipping to the rounded fullness of her breasts.

      ‘I didn’t kiss you,’ she countered, crossing her arms protectively over her bosom, yearning to say or do something that would penetrate his imperturbable exterior.

      Lucas’s smile widened knowingly. ‘You responded. Tell me, was that your first kiss?’

      Prudence’s cheeks burned even hotter and her eyes flamed. ‘That is none of your business. Damn you for your conceit, sir. And I most certainly did not respond.’

      ‘Yes, you did.’

      ‘I—I was surprised, that’s all,’ she faltered.

      The sound of Thomas’s footfall was so soft that Lucas had the impression that he’d imagined it, but when he turned he was there.

      Realising how insensitive and thoughtless he had been to tell Prudence of Adam’s marriage after observing her deathly pallor when he had delivered the words and recalling how she had given him a posy of flowers in the procession earlier, Thomas had suddenly recognized that she might have been nurturing a fondness for Adam throughout his years in exile. It was his concern that this might be so that had caused him to seek her out. However, on seeing her alone with Lucas, he felt dismay rise inside him. What mischief was the man up to now?

      But his quick glance allowed him some understanding of the situation, for he could see contempt in the dark eyes of his sister staring defiantly into those of his friend, which told him she was most unwilling to accept his attentions, for which Thomas thanked God.

      ‘Am I intruding?’ he asked quietly, looking from one to the other.

      ‘No. Your timing is perfect, Thomas,’ said Prudence. ‘Lord Fox and I have nothing further to say to each other. I was just about to return to the house.’

      Lucas contemplated her with a half-smile. ‘You don’t have to. You came to take the air, as I recall. Besides, there is to be a celebratory firework display to welcome the King’s homecoming. It would be a pity to miss that.’

      Prudence bristled like an outraged hedgehog. ‘The air is no longer to my liking,’ she replied, with so much contempt that his lids narrowed, his eyes gleaming with an expression she could not define. ‘And I can watch the firework display just as well from the balcony.’

      When she turned and flounced across the yard, Lucas’s admiring eyes followed her. He tossed a wide grin at Thomas when she disappeared into the house. ‘Ye gods, Thomas! Your sister has the makings of a shrew and is a natural-born rebel. Had King Charles a regiment of soldiers such as she, Cromwell’s forces would not have routed him at Worcester.’

      Thomas sent him a sardonic look. ‘There are few things that are beyond you, Lucas. And my little sister damned sure isn’t one of them. It was shameful of you to kiss her like that earlier. Little wonder she is still bristling and angry with you.’

      Lucas grinned. ‘’Tis nothing but a minor skirmish—besides, I found kissing her downright nice.’

      Thomas saw a flash of the roguish charm that he knew was his friend’s stock-in-trade. ‘I’m sure you did. You seem to regard all women as objects for your pleasure.’

      Lucas laughed, a rich, rolling sound deep in his chest. ‘Perhaps you are right, Thomas. Why complicate life by thinking of them as anything else? Why confine myself to just one when I can make a whole lot happy?’