Seducing the Heiress by null

Author:null
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781429969161
Publisher: u'St. Martin\x19s Press'

CHAPTER 15

“I must say, I’m appalled that Viscount Ratcliffe dared to show his face in public yesterday evening,” Mrs. Beardsley said.

Sitting with a group of aristocratic ladies in the gold drawing room, Portia had been dreading this moment. It was inevitable that Ratcliffe would become the subject of conversation because all four of the visitors had one trait in common: They loved to gossip.

She and Mama had been readying themselves to leave on an afternoon of social calls when the Duchess of Milbourne had arrived. While the horse-faced elderly woman had enthroned herself on a chaise by the hearth, white-haired Lady Grantham had been admitted, followed shortly thereafter by plump Mrs. Beardsley and her bird-witted daughter, Miss Frances Beardsley.

Edith Crompton had been delighted to play hostess to such stellar members of the ton, pouring tea from a silver pot and enlisting Portia to deliver the dainty china cups. Now, Mrs. Crompton flashed Portia a keen stare that warned her to remain silent.

“I’m afraid my daughter and I know very little about Lord Ratcliffe,” Mrs. Crompton said smoothly, offering the stout woman another slice of poppy cake from a silver tray. “Perhaps you’ll tell us more, so we will know the necessity of avoiding him in the future.”

Her voice held the perfect note of maternal concern, but Portia knew her mother well enough to detect a trace of stiffness in her manner. She hadn’t forgiven Portia for abandoning the Duke of Albright for the supper dance. Or for being spotted leaving the ballroom in the company of the notorious Viscount Ratcliffe. Although Portia had managed to convince her mother that nothing untoward had happened, she knew she would be watched more closely henceforth.

Little did her mother realize, Portia welcomed the vigilance. The events of the previous evening only proved that she couldn’t trust herself around Ratcliffe. There was a sensual weakness inside her that he knew exactly how to exploit. She loathed him for using such dishonorable means to entice her into marriage, and yet at the same time, she couldn’t stop thinking about that wonderful, euphoric moment. She had slept fitfully, dreaming of his hands on her body and awakening with the longing to experience it all again. The wickedness of her desire was a constant torment.

How could she have responded to him with such utter abandon when she loved Arun?

“Ratcliffe is a gambler and a rake,” the Duchess of Milbourne said with a sniff of her long nose. “Why, he’s had to sell all of his unentailed land in order to pay off his debts.”

“I have it on excellent authority that he began gambling when he was still at Eton,” Mrs. Beardsley added. “My son Geoffrey was a form below him, and he said Ratcliffe was the leader of the libertines.”

Lady Grantham harrumphed, setting her teacup down with a clatter. “Let us not forget his worst sin. Ratcliffe murdered his own father. Shot him in cold blood when he refused to pay the boy’s gaming markers.”

Frances Beardsley uttered a squeak of horror.

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