He suddenly thought back to three years ago, when he’d kissed her. He’d dragged her out to the gardens to get to the bottom of her recent machination. When he’d gone to the village that morning, he had been besieged by every single woman in the county, it had seemed. He quite literally hadn’t been able to walk from one place to the next without them throwing themselves at him. Some of them pretending to faint, some of them pretending to trip, most of them being forward enough to almost bring him to blush, until he ended up with a trail of them, hanging on to each of his limbs and some other body parts that would have caused his mother to have an apoplexy. Hugh and his brothers had always garnered plenty of female attention being titled, wealthy, and, he thought, rather smugly, not too bad to look at. But this! This had been something else.
It had only been when he’d finally managed to get inside the local inn that he’d gotten to the bottom of it. The bratty Brights had taken out an advertisement in the local newspaper, claiming that Hugh was desperate for a wife but far too shy to go about courting anyone and was hoping to find a lady, of any class, of any age, size, look, to be bold enough to make the first approach.
Hugh’s temper had immediately flared. This one had Louisa Bright written all over it. She was the most bookish of her sisters, the most serious. Where the other two hags were content to carry out relatively simple tricks that had an immediate impact, Louisa’s schemes were always well-planned manipulations and war strategies, the likes of which Nelson himself would be proud.
While the sympathetic innkeeper had been helping Hugh to make his escape through a back door of the inn, Hugh had been planning dastardly ways to get back at the chit.
Arriving home, he’d seen her and her evil sisters sitting on the verandah overlooking the rose gardens. As he’d approached, he saw Meredith and Sara, a mere child, make their way inside, which had suited Hugh just fine. He’d dragged Miss Louisa Bright off to a more private spot deep in the hedgerows where he delivered a furious set down in peace. The two had been toe to toe, arguing at very nearly the top of their lungs. Hugh had been, admittedly, rather insulting about the girl; she had been more so, claiming that it wasn’t her fault the village idiots seemed to have taken a liking to him. It was when she’d said that she should perhaps set up a charity of sorts, to help these women cure themselves of their lack of taste in men that the last of his control had slipped.
To this day, Hugh had no idea what had possessed him to grab the infuriating woman, pull her toward him, and crush her lips beneath his own. But he’d done it. Even now, every so often, most especially in the still, dark night, Hugh remembered the feel of her soft, plump lips beneath his own. He remembered the gasp of surprise. He remembered the scent of honeysuckle that reminded him of her to this day. Most of all, he remembered how, after her initial resistance, she’d melted against him as though she belonged wrapped in his arms.
Unfortunately, he also remembered the moment she’d reared back and smacked his face, the sound reverberating around the quiet gardens.
The sound of people emptying from the room brought Hugh crashing back to the present and to the fact that he was still ensconced in the water closet, watching like some sort of voyeur. Worse still, his little brother was doing the same.
Apparently this was to be Louisa’s room, for she was the only one who remained. Hugh darted a look at Jackson, wondering if his younger brother would somehow be able to read his thoughts and know what he’d done all those years ago. But Jack’s eyes were trained on Louisa Bright who, having placed her valise on the chaise and wandered around the room, was now unbuttoning her travelling coat.
Hugh had the sudden urge to plant a facer on his brother’s cheek, or at least cover the younger man’s eyes. Which was nonsensical. Why should he care who saw her? Why should he care that she was slowly, torturously, removing clothing, revealing smooth, supple skin, a delicate décolletage, and curves to make a man weep.
All right. That was enough. Hugh took a subtle step in front of Jackson, blocking the other man’s view.
He didn’t have to worry for too long, however, since the arrival of Miss Bright’s maid to fetch her to her mother’s room meant that she left before Jackson could push his way around Hugh.
As soon as she’d left, the men burst out of the water closet, shoving each other as they went.
“Well, looks like you’re in trouble, big brother.” Jackson smirked causing Hugh’s temper to rise.
“Do be quiet, Jack,” he responded darkly, but his eyes never left the door through which Louisa Bright had just exited.
CHAPTER TWO
LOUISA’S TEMPER WAS SOARING, and she hadn’t even set eyes on the blasted Mayford louts yet. She’d just been hearing Meredith’s tale of her first encounter with the eldest and his dismissal of her. How dare Lucas Mayford make her sister feel embarrassed?
Louisa had missed the exchange since she’d been late down to the ball.
It had taken an age to pick a suitable gown. She wanted to look her absolute best so that she was fully prepared to meet Hugh Mayford face to face again. Not that she cared what he thought of her, of course. Why should she?
And speaking of Hugh, Louisa had yet to set eyes on the man.