Sara Bennett by Lessons in Seduction Page A

instead of wasting his breath arguing with her. He remembered now the manner in which she had responded to his kisses. Not fainting or wailing or running for her life. No, she had relished wholeheartedly his every attention—at least at first.
    Oliver’s steps slowed. He found himself wondering how she would look beneath him as he plundered her in his bed. All creamy limbs and heaving breasts. Would she cry out his name as she climaxed, or demand he hand over Candlewood in payment for her virginity? He shook his head in disgust at his own thoughts. If he had been lusting after only her body he could understand himself—beneath her dull and sensible clothing she was curved and soft in all the right places, with breasts just the size he liked them. But her hair? Her skin? Her eyes ?
    Oliver realized then he had stopped and was standing in the dimly lit street. As if he were lost. With an impatient sound, he began to walk again. She was a certain type of gentlewoman, he reminded himself, whom he particularly despised. A narrow-minded, crusading do-gooder. From Yorkshire, of all godforsaken places! And she wanted to prevent him from doing something he had every intention of doing. Did she imagine she could instill him with a social conscience by earnestly coming all this way to see him? Oliver shuddered.
    But remembering now her fervent expression when she spoke of Candlewood, and then her pain as he deliberately destroyed her hopes, Oliver grimaced. He did not like hurting things smaller and more feeble than himself, although he was dubious that label applied to Vivianna Greentree. Well, it had had to be done. Pointless letting her believe she could persuade him to change his mind. And yet he couldn’t say he had enjoyed that part of their encounter.
    Damn the woman!
    What would she think if she knew the full extent of his sins? Would a determined social reformer such as herself rise to the challenge? Or would she consider him beyond redemption? He hoped it was the latter, for her own sake he really did. He had been playing the rake for so long now that the role came easily to him, too easily. And Miss Vivianna Greentree was such a sweet armful…. With any luck he had frightened her off, and she was even now on her way back to Yorkshire.
    With any luck.
     
    Mrs. Helen Russell was waiting for Vivianna, and she was in a state. Lil, hovering anxiously behind her, grimaced a warning.
    “You went out alone, Vivianna! I’ve been worried sick! What would I have told your mother if something had happened to you? Oh, I feel quite ill.”
    Vivianna and Lil between them supported her to a chair against the wall. Mrs. Russell waved a hand in front of her face, looking even more ravaged and exhausted than usual. She turned big blue accusing eyes upon Vivianna and shook her head.
    “I had thought better of you, Vivianna, really I had. I did not know where you had gone, and neither did your maid here. We thought you had been kidnapped by some foul persons seeking ransom.”
    Lil caught Vivianna’s eye and bit her lip.
    “Not that I expect we would have been able to pay it,” Mrs. Russell went on, setting aside her attack of the vapors as other, more practical concerns took root. “We can barely pay Cook or the grocer, so I imagine a ransom is out of the question. And Toby wagers so much on the cards that I sometimes wonder—” She stopped, sighed, and attempted a smile. “Well, I suppose my sister would pay it anyway. Amy is quite well off, is she not? Yes, if there was a ransom, then Amy would pay it.”
    “Of course she would,” Vivianna soothed. “But there is no ransom, Aunt. I am sorry if worried you, but I simply had to speak with…a person about the shelter. I did not expect to be so long. Forgive me.”
    Mrs. Russell eyed her a moment more and then rose to her feet. “Very well, dear, I will put this down to your unfamiliarity with London and the stricter code of behavior here, but don’t do it again. Or if you do