Kasey Michaels - How to Beguile a Beauty

Tanner took her hands in his. “I shouldn’t have involved you, which I did by not warning Justin away from you and my cousin both.”

She did her best to ignore the tingle of awareness that had run through her at his touch. “It’s all right. This evening was quite the education. Nicole spent years anticipating her first Season, and then found it petty and insipid, so that she almost immediately sought adventure and excitement elsewhere. I, in my turn, dreaded the day we’d come to London, yet I find myself enjoying the experience for the most part. The museums, the Tower, the theaters, the book repositories, the sheer masses of people and bustle. It’s silly of me, but I didn’t see the meanness anywhere, until tonight.”

“Justin has decided to leave London for a space, probably until next year’s Season. That will give Society time to become resigned to the idea that he’s back. But now I wonder if that’s wise. He might only be prolonging what is bound to end with some sort of confrontation with somebody. Still, he knows I’ll stand by him.”

Lydia wondered if she should withdraw her hands, but it was as if Tanner didn’t even realize he was still holding on to them. “I’m sure he does. That might be one reason he’s leaving London. To protect you.”

Tanner’s fingers tightened on hers briefly. “My God, I never thought of that. I’ll be seeing him tomorrow morning, and will quickly disabuse him of any idea of sacrificing himself to protect me.”

“As he would disabuse you of any idea of sacrificing yourself to protect him, I would imagine. Do you know something, Tanner? I think men might really be rather silly, at the heart of things.”

That brought a smile to his face, and another quick flush to her cheeks. “Spoken like a highly intelligent woman. Yes, men are idiots. Idiocy is beaten into us from the nursery cot on. And the more civilized we become, the more rules we make, the more we toss around words like honor and law, the more savage we really are. We merely dress up our baser selves in fine linen. And I’m as guilty of that as any of us.”

It wasn’t the most romantic of conversations. It certainly wasn’t a usual conversation between a man and woman. But what it was, Lydia realized, was a conversation between equals, between friends. With no artifice, no polite skirting of unpleasant subjects, no thought to impressing each other.

“I disagree. If anything, Tanner, I believe you may be too good. Too honorable.”

The moment she’d said the words, Lydia was appalled at her forthrightness. She withdrew her hands, faced forward on the bench, and folded those hands in her lap. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

She felt his hand at the small of her back, and closed her eyes, focusing on her breathing, which had seemingly decided to stop occurring on its own and needed her full concentration.

“We’re not speaking of men as a whole or my involvement with Justin now, are we? It’s Fitz, back again, front and center.”

“No, I…yes, I suppose so. You’ve more than satisfied any favor he asked from you where I am concerned.”

“Are you telling me to go away, Lydia? Take myself off?”

She turned to him in surprise. “No! I…I don’t wish to be an obligation, Tanner. That’s all.”

He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek, pulling back only slightly as he said, “You’ve never been an obligation to me, Lydia. Never.”

She wanted to avoid his eyes, his closeness, but it was no good. She couldn’t look away. He’d kissed her! Had it been a brotherly sort of kiss? The kiss one might deliver to a friend? What if she had known he was going to do what he did? Would she have turned her head so that he could kiss her on the mouth? What would he have done then? What was she thinking!

But she only said, “I was horrible to you that day, and for a long time after that. I did my best to avoid you.”

“Really?” He smiled. “I didn’t notice.”

“Oh.” She twisted her hands in her lap, a part of her longing only to raise her hand, touch her fingers to his cheek. “Everyone else did.”

“Everyone else should mind their own business,” Tanner said softly, moving closer to her, his mouth suddenly the center of her attention. His full, smiling mouth…

“Malvern! Ran you to ground at last!”

Lydia nearly jumped at the sudden shout, and instantly Tanner was gone, standing beside the bench, his body placed protectively in front of hers.

“Molton,” he said dully. “Brittingham—Featherstone. I wasn’t aware either of you were out of short pants eight years ago, let alone a friend of Farber’s. And you’re drunk, all of you.”

“So?” the man named Molton answered. “Where’s Wilde? Someone told me he’d seen him slinking away like the coward he is. Or is that him now, hiding behind you? Bring him out, Malvern. I’ve got something for him.”

With that, Lydia heard the sharp snap of braided leather against the brick path. She knew the sound. A horse whip, probably procured from one of the coaches.

“Oh, for the love of heaven. You ass, put that away.”

“Why? It’s what he deserves. Wouldn’t touch him, wouldn’t dirty my hands on him. Wouldn’t challenge him to a duel, either, wouldn’t be that stupid, when the man has no honor, fires early.”

“Molton, we’ve had this discussion. While I admire your friendship with Robbie Farber, sentiment doesn’t alter facts. He turned early, and fired.”

“Who cares a damn? Are we going to talk, or have us some fun?” one of the others said, slurring his words badly. “You promised Oliver and me some fun.”

Lydia sat quietly, not daring to move, knowing she was hidden in both the shadows and by Tanner’s body. Fear froze her body, even as her mind raced to unlovely conclusions. There were three of them, and only Tanner to face them. They were drunk, and clearly eager for an unfair fight. Did the target matter all that much, or would any target do? Had it yet occurred to Tanner that being in the right did not necessarily lend him any sort of protection?

Clearly not.

“Is that true, Molton? You talked these two young fools into stretching Justin’s arms around a tree out here, while you whip him raw? Yes, that sounds like a notion that would appeal to you. I can see why you and Farber were bosom chums. Your shared sense of honor is evident. Well, so sorry to disappoint you all, but Wilde is gone, he isn’t here. Which, whether you choose to believe it or not, is damn lucky for the three of you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, there is a lady present, not that any of you noticed. I wish to escort her back to the ballroom. Let us pass, and if you wish it, I’ll be more than happy to stand in for my good friend and then return to speak with you and your false courage some more.”

He turned his back on the three men, extending his hand to her. “My apologies, Lydia. You should not have had to endure any of this. Let me take you back inside.”

She heard the slither of the whip as its length was uncoiled onto the ground. “Tanner!” she called out in warning, leaping to her feet just to have him rather roughly push her toward the far side of the path, out of danger.

But his need to protect her had cost him valuable moments.

By the time he could turn, Molton had raised his hand, the whip already snaking out, meant to strike him across the back, its tip instead snapping against his cheek.

Molton’s companions cheered at the quick eruption of blood, further emboldening him, so that he laughed and drew back the whip once more.

But this time it was Tanner who moved first, as if he’d never even been touched. His left arm shot out so that the whip wound harmlessly around his covered forearm and he could grab the fat braiding. A quick pull on the whip threw Molton off-balance, for the fool’s wits were dulled with drink, and he hadn’t let go of the handle.