83
" He’d lost the battle to protect his heart.
“I love you,” he murmured as he lost himself inside her. “I love you, my dearest Celia.” When hope shone in her face, he said, “I’ll always love you.”
Then he collapsed on top of her.
They lay there, joined together, for several moments. When he rolled off, she curled herself against him and stared into his face uncertainly. “Did you mean it?”
“Of course.” He brushed a kiss over her lips. “I love you, sweeting.”
Joy leapt in her face, but as he continued to stare at her, it shifted to something that looked remarkably like calculation. “I suppose you expect me to say something similar.”
Though his breath caught in his throat, he arched an eyebrow. “Still torturing me for this morning?”
Pure mischief lit her pretty eyes. “Perhaps.”
“Then I’ll have to make you more sure of me,” he drawled and reached for the bell cord.
“Don’t you dare!” she cried, half frowning, half laughing, as he closed his hand around it.
“Do you love me?” he asked and dangled the cord over her head.
“I might,” she teased. “A little. Do you still think me a spoiled lady?”
She grabbed for the cord, and he lifted it higher. “Probably no more spoiled than any other beautiful female used to getting her own way with men who adore her.”
“At least you’re mixing compliments with the insults now.” She regarded him from beneath lowered lashed. “So you adore me, do you?”
“Madly. Passionately.” He released the cord. “And no, I don’t think you’re spoiled. If I’d ever had any doubt, my aunt banished it completely.”
“Your aunt?”
“I told her everything…well, not everything, but the important parts. And after she pointed out that I’m probably the worst suitor ever when it comes to proposing, she defended your behavior this morning with great enthusiasm.”
A devilish smile crossed her lips. “I think I’m going to like your aunt.”
“I’m sure you will. The two of you are peas in a pod. "
― Sabrina Jeffries , A Lady Never Surrenders (Hellions of Halstead Hall, #5)
84
" Did he suggest taking you for a walk in the moonlight?"
"How did you know?"
Virginia sighed. "That's what he does. I think it's a kind of challenge for him-to see if he can get young women to let him steal a kiss. If he succeeds..." She trailed off with a frown.
"If he succeeds, then what?" Celia prodded.
"Frankly, I'm not sure. That's as far as the girls ever get in complaining to me about him. First, they tell me he kissed them and it was like communing on some 'ethereal plane.'" She snorted. "Then they protest that they were sure he loved them. And then they start crying. It all goes downhill from there."
"You don't think he actually-"
"No!" She chewed on her lip. "That is, I don't think so. It's hard to know with Pierce. He's so unpredictable." Her gaze met Celia's. "But I'd hate to think of him getting you off alone and attempting-"
"You needn't worry about that," Celia said. "That's what I have Betty for."
"Betty?"
Celia reached into her reticule and pulled out her ladies' pocket pistol.
Virginia leapt back. "Oh, my word! Does your family know you carry that around?"
"I doubt it. I don't think they'd approve."
"I should say not!" Virginia surveyed it curiously. "Is it loaded?"
"Only with powder. There's no ball."
"Thank heaven for that. Still, aren't you worried it will go off by itself?"
"No. It has two protections to keep it from firing accidentally. I made sure of that when I purchased it." She hefted the pistol. "I've been told that ladies of the evening use this sort of gun to frighten customers who try to hurt them."
"Told by whom?"
"My gunsmith, of course."
"How on earth did you find a gunsmith?"
Celia shrugged. "Gabe introduced me to his."
Virginia rolled her eyes. "You and my husband are mad, I swear."
"I suppose we are." With a faint smile, she stroked the pearl handle. "I learned how to shoot from him. "
― Sabrina Jeffries , A Lady Never Surrenders (Hellions of Halstead Hall, #5)
85
" Mr. Pinter!"
He turned to find Lady Celia approaching. "Yes, my lady?"
To his surprise, she glanced nervously at the open door to the library and lowered her voice. "I must speak to you privately. Do you have a moment?"
He ruthlessly suppressed the leap in his pulse. Lady Celia had never asked to talk to him alone. The singularity of that made him nod curtly and gesture to a nearby parlor.
She preceded him, then stood looking about her with uncharacteristic anxiousness as he entered and left the door open, wanting no one to accuse him of impropriety.
"What is it?" he asked, trying not to sound impatient. Or intrigued. He'd never seen Lady Celia looking unsure of herself. It tugged annoyingly at his sympathies.
"I had a dream last night. That is, I'm not sure if it actually was a dream. I mean, of course it was a dream, but..."
"What's your point, madam?"
Her chin came up, and a familiar martial light entered her gaze. "There's no need to be rude, Mr. Pinter."
He couldn't help it; being this close to her was doing uncomfortable things to him. He could smell her perfume, a tempting mix of...whatever flowery things noblewomen wore to enhance their charms.
Her charms needed no enhancement. "
― Sabrina Jeffries , A Lady Never Surrenders (Hellions of Halstead Hall, #5)
86
" You were right to come to me with this."
She smiled at him then, the first smile she'd ever given him. It brought life to her face and a softness to her features that blazed a path through to his very soul.
"Thank you," she said.
God save him, he must keep his wits about him. "You're welcome." He turned for the door. He had to get out of here. If she ever guessed what she did to him, she'd mock him mercilessly for daring to raise his gaze so high. "If that's all-"
"Actually," she said, "I need something else from you, too."
Confound it all, he'd nearly escaped. Slowly he faced her once more. "Yes?"
She took in a breath, then lifted her chin. "I need you to investigate my suitors. "
― Sabrina Jeffries , A Lady Never Surrenders (Hellions of Halstead Hall, #5)
87
" Celia realized she'd shocked Mr. Pinter when his thick black brows drew together in a frown. His lean form seemed even more rigid than usual, and his angular features-the arrow of a nose and bladed jaw-even more stark. IN his severe morning attire of black serge and white linen, he radiated male disapproval.
But why? He knew she was the only "hellion" left unmarried. Did he think she would let her brothers and sisters lose their inheritance out of some rebellious desire to thwart Gran's ultimatum?
Of course he did. He'd been so kind and considerate during her recitation of the dream that she'd almost forgotten he hated her. Why else were his eyes, gray as slate after a storm, now so cold and remote? The blasted fellow was always so condescending and sure of himself, so...so...
Male.
"Forgive me, my lady," he said in his oddly raspy voice, "but I was unaware you had any suitors."
Curse him for being right. "Well, I don't...exactly. There are men who might be interested but haven't gone so far as to offer marriage." Or even to show a partiality to her.
"And you're hoping I'll twist their arms so they will?"
She colored under his piercing gaze. "Don't be ridiculous."
This was the Mr. Pinter she knew, the one who'd called her "a reckless society miss" and a "troublemaker."
Not that she cared what he thought. He was like her brother's friends, who saw her as a tomboy because she could demonstrate a rifle's fine qualities. And like Cousin Ned. Scrawny bitch with no tits-you don't have an ounce of anything female on you.
Curse Ned to hell. "
― Sabrina Jeffries , A Lady Never Surrenders (Hellions of Halstead Hall, #5)
90
" You may find this hard to believe, Mr. Pinter," she went on defensively, "but some men enjoy my company. They consider me easy to talk to."
A ghost of a smile touched his handsome face. "You're right. I do find that hard to believe."
Arrogant wretch. "All the same, there are three men who might consider marrying me, and I could use your help in securing them."
She hated having to ask him for that, but he was necessary to her plan. She just needed one good offer of marriage, one impressive offer that would show Gran she was capable of gaining a decent husband.
Gran didn't believe she could, or she wouldn't be holding to that blasted ultimatum. If Celia could prove her wrong, Gran might allow her to choose a husband in her own good time.
And if that plan didn't work, Celia would at least have a man she could marry to fulfill Gran's terms.
"So you've finally decided to meet Mrs. Plumtree's demands," he said, his expression unreadable.
She wasn't about to let him in on her secret plan. Oliver might have employed him, but she was sure Mr. Pinter also spied for Gran. He would run right off and tell her. "It's not as if I have a choice." Bitterness crept into her tone. "In less than two months, if I remain unmarried, my siblings will be cut off. I can't do that to them, no matter how much I resent Gran's meddling."
Something that looked oddly like sympathy flickered in his gaze. "Don't you want to marry?"
"Of course I want to marry. Doesn't every woman?"
"You've shown little interest in it before," he said skeptically.
That's because men had shown little interest in her. Oh, Gab's friends loved to stand about with her at balls and discuss the latest developments in cartridges, but they rarely asked her to dance, and if they did, it was only to consult her on rifles. She'd tried flirting, but she was terrible at it. It seemed so...false. So did men's compliments, the few that there were. It was easier to laugh them off than to figure out which ones were genuine, easier to pretend to be one of the lads.
She secretly wished she could find a man she could love, who would ignore the scandals attached to he family's name and indulge her hobby of target shooting. One who could shoot as well as she, since she could never respect a man who couldn't hit what he aimed at.
I'll bet Mr. Pinter knows his way around a rifle. "
― Sabrina Jeffries , A Lady Never Surrenders (Hellions of Halstead Hall, #5)
91
" I'll bet My. Pinter knows his way around a rifle.
She scowled. He probably thought he was a grand shot, anyway. For a man whose lineage was reputedly unsavory, Mr. Pinter was so high in the instep that she privately called him Proud Pinter or Proper Pinter. He'd told Gabe last week that most lords were good for only two things-redistributing funds from their estates into the gaming hells and brothels in London, and ignoring their duty to God and country.
She knew he was working for Oliver only because he wanted the money and prestige. Secretly, he held them all in contempt. Which was probably why he was being so snide about her marrying.
"Be that as it may," she said, "I'm interested in marriage now." She strode over to the fireplace to warm her hands. "That's why I want you to investigate my potential suitors."
"Why me?"
She shot him a sideways glance. "Have you forgotten that Oliver hired you initially for that very purpose?"
His stiffening posture told her that he had. With a frown, he drew out the notebook and pencil he always seemed to keep in his pocket. "Very well. Exactly what do you want me to find out?"
Breathing easier, she left the fire. "The same thing you found out for my siblings-the truth about my potential suitors' finances, their eligibility for marriage, and...well..."
He paused in scratching his notes to arch an eyebrow at her. "Yes?"
She fiddled nervously with the gold bracelet she wore. This part, he might balk at. "And their secrets. Things I can use in my...er...campaign. Their likes, their weaknesses, whatever isn't obvious to the world."
His expression chilled her even with the fire at her back. "I'm not sure I understand."
"Suppose you learn that one of them prefers women in red. That could be useful to me. I would wear red as much as possible."
Amusement flashed in his eyes. "And what will you do if they all prefer different colors?"
"It's just an example," she said irritably. "
― Sabrina Jeffries , A Lady Never Surrenders (Hellions of Halstead Hall, #5)
92
" Tell me something, Your Grace. Do you find me at all...appealing as a woman?"
He appeared startled. "Forgive me. I suppose my offer sounds rather cold-blooded."
"A bit, yes."
That brought a glint to his eye. "Then perhaps this will set your mind at ease." He reached up to catch her by the chin, then lowered his mouth to hers.
She held her breath. A kiss would certainly soothe her misgivings.
But as his lips touched hers, soft, coaxing...cool, she felt a stab of disappointment. It wasn't that there was anything wrong with his kiss. It was just too...
Careful. Reserved. As if he were testing the waters. She didn't ant a man to test the waters with her. She wanted him to seize her in an impassioned embrace and show her in no uncertain terms that he found her desirable. That he wanted-
"I suggest you release the lady, sir," growled a familiar voice, jerking her up short. "Or you won't like the consequences. "
― Sabrina Jeffries , A Lady Never Surrenders (Hellions of Halstead Hall, #5)
