An Invitation To Pleasure. Marguerite Kaye

managed such a difficult situation, when he grabbed her by the arm. ‘I haven’t yet told you why you must rid yourself of the scoundrel.’

      The sleeves of Susanna’s gown were long, beribboned and fitted tight to the wrist, but she could feel the burning heat of his fingers as if her arms were bare. Captain Lamont’s grip was tight enough to bruise. Close up, his eyes had a golden rim around them. His stubble too had a golden glint to it. Despite his grubby appearance, he smelled of soap. She was acutely conscious of him, not as a soldier but as a man. ‘Release me at once.’ Her voice sounded pitiably unconvincing.

      ‘You have to listen to me.’

      Whatever lies he wanted to impart, he obviously believed them. The desperation in his voice made Susanna even more convinced that she must quiet him for her own peace of mind. She tried once more to shake herself free, only to find herself in what felt shockingly like an embrace. ‘If you do not release me, I will call a servant.’

      He ignored her. ‘It was a bloodbath, you know.’ Captain Lamont swallowed compulsively. Sweat beaded on his brow under the line of the bandage. ‘He blamed me for it all,’ he continued harshly. ‘Said I was the one who had misinterpreted the orders, not him. But it’s not just on the battlefield he avoids responsibility, that’s what you need to know. If it was not for your being promised to him, he’d have been clapped in the debtor’s prison months ago, and what he owes to the tradesmen is doubtless nothing to what he has lost on the tables. He’s counting on you to make it all good, his sweet-tempered heiress.’

      ‘Stop it! Stop calling me that. All gentlemen have debts. Jason loves me.’

      Another of those harsh cracks of laughter. ‘You and a hundred others.’

      Susanna froze. ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘He has a pretty way with compliments, does he not? He uses it to very good effect, charming the officers’ wives and making their daughters sigh over him. Of course, he saves his most intimate of favours for those who cannot complain when they are left dealing with the consequences of his passion. As they must, Miss Hunter, for Mountjoy will not.’ His grip on her arms tightened. ‘Mountjoy left at least one of his side-slips on the continent when he returned to London, did you know that?’

      ‘How dare you! Stop it. I will not listen.’

      ‘You must jilt him. You have to make him pay. Mountjoy has hurt too many innocents already. Don’t let him make you his next victim.’

      Disbelief, shock and outrage sent Susanna’s head spinning. She could not think straight. All she wanted was to rid herself of this man who for reasons best known to himself seemed bent upon her destruction. Unwilling to admit to the horrible premonition of truth underlying it all, she turned her anger upon the bearer of tidings. ‘Do not insult me by trying to pretend that you give a—a damn about me. All you want to do is to hurt Jason, and if you have to use me, trample over me or any other innocent party in the process, then you will. Spare me the noble gesture, if you please. I am simply a pawn in your game, and I have absolutely no intentions of changing the course of my life because you wish me to.’

      Her visitor looked genuinely aghast. ‘You cannot possibly mean to marry Mountjoy after what I’ve told you.’

      ‘What do you suggest I do instead? Marry you?’ Susanna spoke without thinking, caught up in the wholly unfamiliar and strangely heady fire of fury which possessed her. The need to hurt this man in return for the hurt he was inflicting made her reckless. ‘Judging from the sad state of your clothing, Captain, you are obviously in dire need of funds. Marriage to a sweet-tempered heiress might be just the thing for you.’

      To her surprise, the jibe made him smile faintly. ‘Not so sweet-tempered now though, are you? Don’t do it, Susanna.’

      His tone had a sense of urgency which gave sickening credence to his accusations. His use of her name made her abruptly conscious of the intimacy of their stance. She could feel his breath on her cheek. There were muscles of steel under that gaunt frame of his. The smile gave her another fleeting glimpse of the man he must have been. Powerful. Confident. Charismatic. Attractive. Extremely attractive. Her mouth went dry. Her skin prickled with heat. ‘You are being ridiculous.’

      ‘Susanna, don’t do it. You could do so much better than Mountjoy.’

      His hand slid down her arm, snaking round her waist and pulling her against him. Hard body, surprisingly solid. His thighs brushed hers. She felt hot, cold, giddy. Jason had never held her so close. She looked up, trying to think of something to say, and met Captain Lamont’s eyes. Tawny and gold, no longer despairing but something else, something that made her heart beat faster, that made her belly clench. She opened her mouth to speak, felt herself jerked tight against him.

      He was going to kiss her. She was certain of it. Her heart hammered in shocking anticipation. His mouth hovered over hers. Too late, she realised she should be protesting, but there was no need to struggle, for he had already cast her from him, his expression all the more mortifying because it reflected what should have been her own horror. Susanna pointed at the door. ‘Get out.’

      The captain stood his ground. ‘If you marry him, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.’

      ‘Get out!’ Realising that she had covered her ears like a child made Susanna even more furious. How could she have allowed him to take such liberties? She would have allowed him to kiss her, had he not stopped. Jason never attempted to kiss her, not like that. This man did not even know her, but he had made her feel as Jason never had. No. She would not think about it, and she would certainly not listen.

      Susanna strode over to the drawing room door, startling the footman by throwing it wide open. ‘I wish you a complete recovery from your wounds, Captain Lamont. Let me assure you once and for all, that those you have attempted to inflict upon me have missed their mark. Good day.’

      She slammed the door in his face before he could reply, leaning back against it and breathing deeply, listening to the two sets of steps retreating down the marble staircase. It was lies. He was quite deranged, and it was all lies. Or perhaps gross exaggeration would be more accurate, for it was to be expected that a gentleman set up a few flirts before he settled down. Marriage would put an end to such minor indiscretions, for Jason was an honourable man. Everyone said so.

      Her heart was beating like a wild animal seeking escape. She would put this last hour to the back of her mind. Tonight she and Jason were to attend a victory ball. Tomorrow, she and Mama would be shopping for bride clothes. The wedding date was set. There was no question of doing anything other than going through with it, Susanna told herself firmly. No question at all.

      Chapter Two

      December 1818

      Argyll, Scottish Highlands

      The crossing yesterday, from the bustling port outside the city of Glasgow across the River Clyde to the head of the Holy Loch, had been tempestuous, but at least the boat, like its six brawny oarsmen, had been sturdily built. This morning, when Susanna had first laid eyes on the frail craft which was to take her on the last leg of her journey, through the narrow stretches of Echaigh waters to Loch Eck and finally Loch Fyne, she thought the landlord of the Cot House ferry inn was making a joke at her expense.

      It was snowing as the boatman cast off. Susanna’s travelling pelisse of royal blue kerseymere with its elaborate satin scrollwork piping, the matching poke bonnet and the chinchilla muff which her mother had lent her, had seemed more than warm enough when she set out from London. Five hundred miles north, she wriggled her numb toes inside her kid boots as she balanced precariously on the narrow plank of wood which passed for a seat on the boat, and wondered if she would ever feel warm again.

      The boat scudded and bumped over the waves. Excitement and apprehension made Susanna feel slightly sick. Fergus, Laird of Kilmun, Captain Lamont had signed himself in his letter. These past three years had seen his star rise if the title was aught to go by, while most would say that hers had reached its nadir.

      Three years. So much time for her to