The Viscount's Christmas Temptation by Erica Ridley

Author:Erica Ridley [Ridley, Erica]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Regency, Regency England, Regency Romance
ISBN: 9781939713261
Publisher: Intrepid Reads
Published: 2014-11-01T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

Benedict passed a sleepless night. The fact of a sleepless night was not so very wonderful, but rather the reason that kept him from his slumber.

Lady Amelia.

Because of her, he had twice broken from his schedule since the last daybreak. He’d started by leaving his office before eight the night before, simply because he couldn’t stand the suspense any longer of why the woman who had insisted upon a maximum three hour turnabout for her own missives was refusing to answer his own. And then, after the lovely, charming, romantic, disappointing outing in Vauxhall . . .

He had returned home. He! Had returned home.

What did he care for gentlemen’s clubs and boxing matches when all he could think about was the soft, stolen kiss she hadn’t let him take? If only he hadn’t warned her of his intentions . . . But no, he could never treat her dishonorably. Had never treated anyone dishonorably. It was the reason why he selected his mistresses from actresses and courtesans who expected nothing more than a casual physical affair.

And of course he couldn’t take Lady Amelia as his mistress. Now that he’d met her, he couldn’t take anyone as his mistress, or anything else. They all paled next to her. The debutantes were too shallow, the demimonde too world-weary, the bluestockings too desperate to prove they didn’t need a man.

Lady Amelia didn’t have to prove such a thing. She’d shown him with every word, every action, from the moment of their first meeting. She didn’t need him, or likely anyone. But, oh, if he could make her want him . . .

The first thing she had wanted was to realize his Christmastide ball, so he supposed he ought to start there. She hadn’t sent him a report this morning, but of course it hadn’t been necessary. By the time they’d stepped foot on the frozen bridge, he’d finally determined what she was about.

Each location she’d presented to him had been ostensibly what he wanted. Fashionable and unimpeachable. She’d orchestrated tours of perfectly acceptable venues that he would be progressively more likely to abhor. He would never disrupt the holiday plans of others, simply because as viscount, it could be done. Nor could he condone a location—no matter how grand!—that would force him to snub his own friends and family, just to dance within its hallowed walls.

And it went without saying that pleasure gardens wouldn’t do. Not in winter. The slippery paths, the leafless trees, the high likelihood of guests becoming ill or compromised or losing their extremities to frostbite . . . No, there was only one logical, convenient place to temporarily relocate the Christmastide ball without sacrificing any of its customs or inconveniencing any number of people.

Lady Amelia was going to get her wish of Ravenwood House after all.

Benedict scooped up his hat and shrugged into his greatcoat. He had tried as valiantly as he could to spend the scheduled twelve hours before his desk, but here it was three in the afternoon and he was on his way across Hyde Park to let her know she had won.

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