Chapter Eight

Dare had never known such frustration. He'd returned to London three days ago, after his house party ended, not only lacking any further clues to Caliban's identity but having come no closer to winning his wager with Julienne. And game or no game, he wanted her in his bed.

Getting her there willingly, though, was proving an exercise in futility. Indeed, he'd clearly suffered a setback by suggesting that Julienne use her charms to ferret out Riddingham's secrets.

He hadn't intended to make such a misstep, but his possessive male instincts had interfered with his rational mind. Julienne had accused him of being jealous, and he was. Intensely so. His blood had boiled that day on the cliffs as he watched Riddingham entice a husky ripple of laughter from her. The tender scene had inflamed him, rousing bitter memories of seven years ago-of discovering Julienne and Ivers together, of learning they were lovers.

Momentarily blinded by rage, Dare found himself lashing out at her, offering her a financial incentive that most actresses would have been pleased to accept. Not Julienne, however. She had seemed taken aback and even offended by his proposition.

His relief at her refusal was overwhelming. He didn't want Riddingham or any other man touching her. And Dare knew he could never have forgiven himself if his reckless resentment had driven her into his rival's arms.

He couldn't deny, either, his vast feeling of relief that Julienne hadn't warned Riddingham of his investigation. Her forbearance didn't totally prove her innocence, of course, but it was looking less and less likely that she was the accomplice of a traitor.

After he'd proposed the viscount's seduction, the change in her had been noticeable. Since their return to London, Dare had kept up the steady crusade of his public wooing of Julienne-at the theater, during another of Madame Brogard's afternoon salons, as a member of a party that escorted Julienne to the British Museum to view an exhibit. But whereas before Dare had detected a hint of vulnerability, of softness, in her dark eyes whenever she was with him, now she was as cool and calculating as any courtesan.

When he'd handed her a bank draft for one thousand pounds-her earnings for attending his house party-she had tucked it in her bosom with a faintly brittle, beguiling smile that had given him an immediate arousal.

He'd never seen this side of her, never seen her behavior so deliberately, wantonly provocative. Julienne had flirted and teased him unmercifully while holding him at arm's length.

It was driving him wild.

He had only himself to blame, Dare knew. The Jewel had become the fashion among the fast set, in part because of his pursuit. He found it difficult to infiltrate her usual entourage long enough even to speak to her.

Thus, when he managed to persuade her to take a drive in the park with him the following afternoon, Dare felt as if he had scored a major victory.

He called on Julienne at her lodgings on Montague Street, but she kept him waiting for nearly twenty minutes before finally deigning to appear-another deliberate provocation, he didn't doubt.

His pulse quickened at the sight of her, she looked so fresh and lovely. Her carriage dress of pale yellow muslin and leaf green spencer were reminiscent of spring, though the April day was cool and overcast.

"Miss Laurent, you leave me breathless," he said as he handed her into his curricle.

She gave him an alluring smile. "That is certainly my intent, my lord."

"I thought we were beyond such formal terms of address. My name is Dare."

"I would never presume to be so familiar," she replied, lightly mocking.

Belying her words, however, she let her sensual gaze travel down his chest to his stomach, lingering on his groin. Dare felt as though she'd run her hand over him. All the muscles in his body tightened at the heat aroused by her mere glance.

He wasn't certain, Dare reflected as he took the seat beside her, that he liked this new, seductive Jewel, and not simply because it put him on the defensive. Her amiability somehow struck a false note that set his teeth on edge. He had the distinct feeling that he was dealing with an angry female-and that her anger wouldn't be easily placated.

Julienne would have agreed, had she been privy to Dare's thoughts. She was more determined than ever to make him surrender the heart he claimed she had broken. Yet she wasn't as sanguine as she appeared. Dare's touch, when he'd handed her up, had left her fingers tingling beneath her glove. And when he settled next to her, she could feel his hard thigh press against hers through their layers of clothing.

To her further dismay, when he leaned forward to gather the reins, his arm brushed her breast, making her nipples tighten instantly. And the knowing gleam in his eyes told her clearly that his intimacy was intentional.

She refused, however, to let him win. She refused to be the kind of witless female who melted helplessly in his arms. As Dare set the curricle in motion, Julienne gave him back some of his own; she placed her gloved hand on his thigh as if for balance.

When his breath hissed through his teeth, she had to smother a gratified smile.

"If you don't want me to turn this vehicle around," he observed pleasantly, "and carry you up to your rooms to ravish you for the remainder of the afternoon, I suggest you remove your hand from my leg immediately."

Julienne complied, but she arched an eyebrow. "You think I would permit such an act of barbarism when I have no intention of allowing you even to kiss me again?"

He sent her an amused glance. "My apologies if I don't take your illusions too seriously. There's no doubt in my mind that I will make love to you again. And when I do, you will be more than willing-you'll be begging for it."

His arrogance made Julienne itch to take him down a peg. "I should think you would be aware by now of the danger in becoming my paramour. What if you were to truly fall in love with me?"

Dare had no witty retort for that. Instead he frowned and concentrated on his driving.

It was only midafternoon when they arrived at the park-Julienne had been unable to go later with a theater performance scheduled this evening-but the Row was already crowded with riders and carriages of every kind. Furthermore, Julienne discovered, they were the sole focus of countless pairs of eyes.

All London was watching their mating dance, it seemed.

"It amazes me," Julienne said, pasting a smile on her face to cover her exasperation, "how your ridiculous wager has created such a rabid interest in our affairs. It has grown to the point of absurdity."

"But the ton loves a spectacle," Dare replied. "Particularly a battle between worthy opponents. And we are well matched, I would say-the dazzling actress and the notorious rakehell. Although for now the betting books are giving me the edge."

Fortunately she didn't have to think of a retort, for she was hailed by one of her admirers.

They progressed at a snail's pace, since they both were continually greeted by acquaintances. A short while later, she heard Dare curse under his breath as they came across Riddingham driving a curricle.

The viscount looked just as displeased to see them together as he drew to a halt. After the initial pleasantries, Riddingham ignored Dare and addressed Julienne. "I hope you will permit me to take you for a drive tomorrow, Miss Laurent. We can try out my new pair." He nodded toward his horses, matched bays that looked fresh and impatient to be held standing.

"They are very handsome," Julienne said truthfully.

"They are a handful, but exceedingly fast."

"I don't suppose," Dare interrupted, "you would care to put them to a test?"

"A test? What are you suggesting?"

"Your pair against my grays."

"You are proposing a race?" Riddingham asked.

"You sound surprised."

"Perhaps you aren't aware, Wolverton, that I am a member of the Four-in-Hand Club?"

The club, Julienne knew, was made up of England's premier whips who regularly held races to exhibit their driving skills.

"I'm aware," Dare replied dryly. "And your expertise is doubtless unexcelled. But I think I can manage to provide enough sport to make a race worth your while. To keep it interesting, I propose that we each take a passenger-the lady of our choice. I intend to claim Miss Laurent, so you needn't bother asking her. But I'm certain Miss Upcott will oblige you."

Fanny Upcott was the Covent Garden actress Dare had invited to his house party.

"We can race to Hampstead Heath, if you like," Dare continued. "The posting inn at Primrose Hill would be a good place to start. The distance to the Blue Boar Tavern on the Heath would be… what… five miles? The winner buys dinner at the Blue Boar. What do you say, Riddingham?" When the viscount hesitated, Dare added with a smile, "Surely I'm not so intimidating as to make you refuse a challenge?"

"Not at all," Riddingham said testily. "Very well, I will race you. Barring rain, we will meet at ten o'clock tomorrow at Primrose Hill."

"Will you speak to Miss Upcott yourself, or do you need me to put in a good word for you?"

"I will do it," Riddingham snapped before turning his attention back to Julienne. "I am eager to see your portrayal of Ophelia in Hamlet this evening, Miss Laurent…"

Dare allowed her barely enough time to reply before he made their excuses and drove on, looking more than a little self-satisfied.

"What the devil was that about, challenging him to a curricle race?" Julienne asked in annoyance when they were out of earshot.

"I'm simply trying to shake things up a bit," Dare replied blandly.

"You are taking a great deal for granted by assuming I will accompany you. You're greatly mistaken if you think to have me at your beck and call-"

"I promise I am not taking you for granted, cherie."

"It certainly seems that way. You left me in no position to refuse. Your underhanded tactics are deplorable, Dare."

"Haven't you heard the adage that all is fair on the battlefield of love?"

His nonchalance irked her. "You are mangling your quotes again!"

Dare turned an innocent gaze on her. "Do you know, you are sure to get premature wrinkles between your eyes if you keep up that savage scowl?"

"Dare!"

His expression sobered in the face of her genuine anger, and he drew the curricle to a halt, giving her his full attention. "Forgive me, Jewel. I am deadly serious, despite my regrettable teasing. I desperately need your help with Riddingham. I beg you, will you please, please agree to accompany me on the race tomorrow?"

Mollified a slight measure by his seemingly earnest contrition, Julienne raised an eyebrow. "Desperately?"

A gleam of humor lit his eyes. "Yes, desperately."

"Very well. I will agree to help you. But you might consider asking next time before you volunteer me for your infamous games."

"Thank you, my love." Transferring the reins to one hand, he raised her fingers to his lips. The lazy, smoldering look from those eyes made her weak with wanting him.

Highly discomfited, Julienne drew her hand away "Are you trying to charm me out of my ill-humor?" she muttered.

His quick grin had a raffish quality. "But of course. I get my way so much more easily with charm."

Julienne raised her eyes to the sky and counted to ten before responding. "If that is so, then why aren't you using it on Riddingham? Why do I sense that you are deliberately attempting to rile him?"

"I told you, to agitate him into making a misstep." Shifting his attention to his horses, Dare set the vehicle in motion again. "In fact… we've had so few leads in the search for Caliban that I've decided to change tactics altogether. Stir the pot, you might say."

"Meaning?"

"I've begun putting out word that I am hunting the traitor."

Julienne frowned at his admission. "Isn't that potentially dangerous? If Caliban is as ruthless as you say, could you not be making yourself his target?"

"It would be worth the risk if I could draw him out." When she remained silent, Dare shot her an arch glance. "Can it be that you are actually concerned for my skin, love?"

She was gravely concerned, although she had no intention of admitting it to him. "But of course," she answered lightly. "If something untoward befell you, then I would have no chance to win our wager."

To her surprise, Dare's expression grew intensely somber. "This is a trifle more serious than our wager. Three weeks ago a young woman was found drowned. She was companion to Lady Castlereagh…"

Julienne listened in shock and dismay as he told her about Alice Watson's death and the reasons for believing she'd been seduced to gain access to Lord Castlereagh's letters and then murdered.

Her brow furrowing, Julienne searched Dare's face. "Do you honestly think Riddingham could be so heinous as to murder an innocent girl?"

"I don't know. It would help to discover whether he even knew Alice Watson, and whether he had the opportunity to woo her. I'd give a monkey to know where he was on March seventh when she was killed. It could prove-or perhaps even disprove-his complicity."

"Is there anything I can do?" Julienne offered. "Perhaps I could discreetly question Riddingham and see what I can learn."

"No," Dare said curtly, "I will handle it."

He felt Julienne studying him. "A few days ago you suggested I take him for my lover so I could try to ferret out his secrets."

"A few days ago I was behaving like a jealous ass."

"And you are not now?"

His mouth curved in a reluctant grin. "I admit I harbor a measure of possessiveness where you're concerned. And jealousy isn't my only reason for declining your offer to investigate. If Riddingham is a killer, I don't want you anywhere near him. You should dress warmly tomorrow," Dare warned, changing the subject. "The wind will be wicked with the pace I intend to set."

She sighed. "What time should I be ready?"

"I'll call for you in the morning at half past nine… Unless you mean to invite me to spend the night with you to save time…?"

"Do you never give up?" Julienne said in exasperation.

"Never," Dare retorted with an amused laugh.

The remainder of their drive was accomplished in relative harmony. And when Dare returned her to her lodgings, he merely kissed her fingers again. But he wanted to do more. Much more.

Clearly, however, Julienne was not of the same mind, Dare reflected irritably as he drove away. His powers of seduction had never proved so pitiful.

He was getting nowhere with her, certainly not where he wanted to be, which was in bed with her naked beneath him, her legs wrapped around his waist. He was beginning to be positively haunted by visions of making love to her again.

There was only one advantage to their current stalemate, Dare acknowledged. Since her betrayal all those years ago, he had felt numb inside, but now he felt eager, alive, all his senses teeming. He woke each morning looking forward to the day, counting the moments till he saw Julienne again-

At the thought, Dare cursed. She had been right on that score: she was a supreme danger to him. He was becoming besotted with her, whether he wished to or not.

He needed to conquer his growing obsession with her, Dare chided himself. Needed to prove that he could satisfy his fierce craving by other means.

Accordingly, that night he visited the Widow Dunleith again. Her cool reception should not have surprised him. Louisa clearly didn't like playing second fiddle to a mere actress, and her jealousy showed in every barbed remark she made during dinner. So he left shortly afterward, without so much as a kiss.

He could have charmed her out of her sulks, Dare knew. Most women allowed him anything he wanted when he put himself out to please.

The trouble was, he didn't want most women. Sex with anyone but Julienne left him feeling alone and empty. Every time he touched a woman, he was grasping for the exquisite, primitive intensity he'd once known with her-and not finding it. No matter how many times he warned himself to forget her, the ache of longing remained.

He tried to tell himself the feeling was due to sexual frustration. He wasn't accustomed to abstinence, and he didn't like it. Any more than he liked having to fight his way past the queue of calf-eyed, romantic young fools who were always at Julienne's side.

Yet he was very much afraid that his frustration would lead him to do something reckless, like throttle the next man who leered at her.

He'd wanted to do just that earlier today when he'd caught Riddingham staring at her full, ripe bosom. He'd wanted to drag the viscount from his curricle and pummel him with his fists…

What riled him most, however, was the affection Julienne seemed to bear for the man, while he only roused her angry defenses.

Cunning killer or not, Dare thought as he tossed and turned in his solitary bed, Viscount Riddingham had best watch his back.

The next day dawned fair and pleasant for early spring. Despite her reservations, Julienne found herself enjoying the short drive to Primrose Hill just north of the city. She had dressed warmly, as Dare suggested, in a green velvet riding habit. And he had laid a carriage rug across her lap to ward off the remaining morning chill.

Riddingham was already waiting when they turned into the crowded yard of the posting inn, with Miss Upcott at his side. The actress was garbed in crimson and a high poke bonnet, which Julienne suspected would catch a great deal of wind once the race got underway.

Not surprisingly a large number of spectators had gathered to watch, she saw as Dare threaded a path through the crush of vehicles. There were several carriages filled with both ladies and gentlemen and more than a dozen sporting bucks on horseback. The wagers flew fast and furious, with most putting their money on Dare.

"Shall we engage in a small wager ourselves?" Dare asked Riddingham as he drew his curricle even. "Say, a thousand pounds?"

"Double that," the viscount snapped, evidently in an ill mood. "Two thousand will make it worth my while."

Julienne heard Miss Upcott gasp at the size of the wager, and she herself shook her head at the exorbitant sums these moneyed noblemen recklessly tossed around.

"As you wish," Dare replied easily. "The first one to reach the Blue Boar Tavern wins."

Shortly all the bets were placed and the congested yard cleared of spectators wanting to be present at the finish line. Willing to give them a headstart, Dare ordered refreshments from the innkeeper, and he and Julienne sipped hot mulled cider while his rival grew visibly more impatient.

They had just handed back their mugs when Riddingham's curricle lurched and he clenched the reins, clearly having difficulty controlling his bays' fidgets. With a polite sweep of his arm, Dare invited the viscount to proceed him out of the yard.

The two men turned on to the road, with Riddingham in the lead.

"Are you set?" Dare asked Julienne as he urged his pair into an easy gallop, as Riddingham was doing up ahead.

"Yes."

"Good. This should be a pleasure."

Julienne kept silent so that Dare could give his attention to his horses. He was an excellent whip, she thought, observing him match his speed to the curricle in front.

He needed to concentrate on the road before him, but she could watch the surrounding countryside. The vast area of heathland spread over sandy hills and secluded vales, and Julienne saw the green landscape rush by in a blur as they bowled along. With the wind in her face, she was glad she had worn a small shako hat rather than the broad-brimmed bonnet the other actress had chosen. Ahead, Miss Upcott strove to keep her bonnet in place with one hand while clinging to the rail of the curricle with the other.

They skirted the village of Hampstead before coming to the Heath itself, with its broad stretches of gorse and grass and numerous stands of trees. Dare leaned forward slightly, his eyes intent on the road and his opponent, and let his horses have their heads.

Julienne felt a rush of exhilaration as they surged forward. There was a risk of danger in racing, with curves and potholes and the possibility of an approaching carriage to challenge them. But as she watched Dare's gloved hands masterfully controlling his grays, urging them to greater speed, she felt complete confidence in his skill.

Ahead, Riddingham was driving with evident skill himself. Julienne doubted either pair could keep up the brutal pace, but for now they were running strongly and showing no sign of fatigue. And Dare's grays were slowly gaining ground.

The road was narrow here, with ditches running on either side providing barely enough room for two vehicles. But when Dare grinned at her, she realized he would to try to pass. He was thoroughly enjoying himself, Julienne knew.

"Hold on," he shouted over the sounds of whistling wind and pounding hoofbeats.

She obeyed, even as she murmured a silent prayer.

Riddingham blocked their attempts, however, by swinging into the center of the road. Julienne winced and ducked her head to avoid the clods of dirt and mud thrown up by the bays' churning hooves.

Patiently accepting his opponent's tactics, Dare bided his time until a blind curve loomed ahead. Then he feathered the turn expertly while Riddingham's curricle went wide. With a calculating glance, Dare dropped his hands and asked his horses for another burst of speed. The gallant grays shot forward, their lengthened strides eating ground.

They had nearly drawn even when a wheel on Dare's curricle hit a rut. The vehicle tilted crazily, and Julienne gasped, gripping her seat in desperation. The grays took exception to the jarring weight behind, but Dare held them steady, calming them until they responded to his iron control.

At his command they slowly drew forward again, and soon the two pairs were racing neck and neck.

What happened next Julienne wasn't quite certain, but she heard the scrape of metal as the curricles clanged wheels. Both vehicles lurched at the contact, and she was thrown against Dare.

She heard his muffled oath and managed to right herself. But when it happened again, she realized Riddingham had deliberately swung over in an effort to run Dare's curricle off the road.

It was an insanely dangerous maneuver, Julienne knew, and when they clashed a third time, the wheels nearly locked and both drivers and their passengers were almost flung from their seats. Miss Upcott screamed and clung to Riddingham, while Dare cursed vividly.

His mouth had narrowed in a grim line, Julienne saw, giving him a frantic glance. He would have again tried to pass, she felt sure, but just then they rounded another curve and an approaching farm cart suddenly loomed ahead, directly in their path.

To her surprise, Dare drew back on the reins and eased the pace.

"What are you doing?" she asked breathlessly as they slowed to a trot.

"I like to win, but not at the risk of your life. I would rather not injure my horses either."

Julienne suspected that in a simple battle of nerves with Riddingham, Dare would have won hands down, but he had her safety to consider as well as his own- and she was frankly glad for his prudence, even if it cost them the race.

But Dare apparently had no intention of conceding.

"Hold tight," he ordered, guiding the curricle from the road on to a narrow track.

Julienne saw Riddingham's look of startlement as he glanced back at them, and quelled her own dismay when she realized Dare intended to drive cross-country.

It was a jolting ride, despite the slower pace, and Julienne feared they would snap an axle or one of the traces as they bounced over the uneven ground. But she clung determinedly to the lurching seat, and Dare's gambit cut off nearly half a mile from the planned route, allowing them to reach the tavern yard a full minute ahead of Riddingham, to a chorus of shouts and cheers from the crowd gathered there.

Dare brought his horses to a plunging halt and waited until an ostler ran to their heads before dragging Julienne into his arms, catching her completely off guard.

"Are you all right?" he demanded. Before she could react, he had covered her mouth with his own and claimed a fierce kiss.

The shock of it momentarily held her immobile, while heat streaked through her.

"God," Dare murmured, drawing back only slightly. "That bloody fool could have killed you."

Emotion churned in his darkened eyes, but Julienne couldn't determine the cause: relief at their surviving the danger, exhilaration at winning the race, or pleasure from kissing her. Perhaps all three.

To the glee of the spectators, Dare gathered her even closer and bent his head once more. Julienne wanted to protest his reckless passion, but her breath fled at the deep thrust of his tongue. Her lips parted of their own accord, and she sighed, surrendering to his mounting ardor.

She was still kissing him as Riddingham drove into the yard. Recalling her surroundings with sudden consternation, Julienne broke free from Dare's embrace.

At the hint of triumph in his smoldering eyes, she began to wonder if he'd purposely claimed a victory kiss in front of the crowd to suggest that he was winning their wager, or even to taunt his opponent. The possibility vexed her to no end.

The blazing look Dare threw at Riddingham, however, made her fear for the viscount's safety.

Riddingham appeared furious as well, whether at being bested in the race or because of the kiss, Julienne wasn't certain.

Miss Upcott, on the other hand, was white-faced. Clearly shaken, she climbed down from the other curricle without assistance and stood trembling in the yard.

With scarcely a glance at his passenger, Riddingham scowled at Dare. "You managed to win, Wolverton, but by foul means. Leaving the road was cheating."

Beside her, Dare went very still. "I believe our wager was who would reach the tavern first. But as long as we are discussing foul means, what did you intend by nearly forcing us off the road? You could have killed us all with that senseless stunt you pulled."

Riddingham's face turned even darker. "You will regret this, Wolverton," he ground out, obviously reluctant to admit his own unscrupulous actions had cost him the race and the two-thousand-pound wager.

To Julienne's astonishment, the viscount suddenly whipped up his horses and drove off.

Dare's ire seemed slightly dimmed by his rival's rage. "At least we still have dinner to look forward to," he murmured dryly.

He cast a solicitous glance at Riddingham's deserted passenger. "Are you all right, Miss Upcott?"

She held a hand to her mouth and shook her head. "I think I may be ill…"

Turning, she stumbled toward the inn.

Uttering a mild oath, Dare leapt down from his curricle. When he reached up for Julienne to assist her, however, she drew back with a look of fierce exasperation.

"I am not at all impressed by your ham-handed tactics," she declared in a clipped whisper. "Did you never stop to think that savaging Riddingham's pride is no way to persuade him to divulge secrets?"

Dare narrowed his eyes in surprise. "I savaged his pride?"

"Yes. You resemble foolish boys, fighting over a prize. But you could have found a more intelligent way to deal with him."

"I hardly consider-"

"Please, spare your breath and go offer your apologies to Miss Upcott."

Snatching up the reins then, Julienne ordered the ostler to stand back. When he complied, she sent the grays forward at a brisk trot.

She could almost sense Dare's stupefaction as she drove out of the yard. When he shouted after her, she permitted herself a brief smile. After surrendering so witlessly to his passionate kiss, she needed to show their observers that she was still a match for him.

What she had done-appropriating his curricle and stranding him at a tavern-was no more outrageous than Dare's usual antics. He would eventually be able to hire some sort of equipage to take poor Fanny Upcott back to London. And someone had to follow Riddingham and try to soothe his ruffled feathers. Perhaps, Julienne reflected, she could use the opportunity to discover what the viscount knew about the murdered companion.

It was likely that Dare feared for his horses, but she wouldn't let them come to any harm. She could tool a curricle more expertly than most women, since one of her beaux in York had taught her. And the grays needed to be cooled down in any case, for their coats were well lathered after their courageous exertions.

But let Dare fret, Julienne thought with more than a hint of defiance. It was time she taught him a lesson.

The arrogant Dare North would learn that he might best most of his opponents, but he wouldn't win the battle with her.

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