Regency Rogues: Stolen Sins. Julia Justiss

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      His words, and the beguiling smile he directed at her as he said them, sent a little zing of pleasure through her. Empty gallantry, she told herself, trying to fight the effect.

      Before she could try to determine how genuine the compliment might be, Proctor took her arm and all but tugged her out of her chair. ‘Can I escort you back now, Lady Margaret? Your cousin is most anxious.’

      ‘I wouldn’t wish to worry Michael, of course.’ With regret, she turned to her rescuer. ‘I very much enjoyed our conversation, Mr Hadley. Despite holding opposing views, I hope we may continue it at some time in future.’

      ‘You could not desire it more fervently than I! Good day, Lady Margaret,’ Hadley said, and bowed over her hand.

      As his fingers clasped hers, her heart fluttered and a flush of heat went through her. It took her a moment to remember to pull free from his grasp.

      ‘Good day to you, Mr Hadley,’ she said faintly, acutely conscious of his gaze on her as she walked out.

      She would like to meet him again, she thought as her cousin’s aide escorted her through the taproom. Though it would be better if she did not. She cringed inwardly as she recalled the unguarded words she’d let slip about his half-brother. A man mesmerising enough to cause her to suspend all of her breeding and most of her common sense was best avoided.

      But oh, how he stirred her mind and excited her senses!

      ‘I hope you weren’t too friendly with Hadley,’ Proctor said after he’d helped her into the carriage.

      ‘Since when do I become “friendly” with men I hardly know, John?’ she replied sharply.

      Proctor held up a restraining hand. ‘Please don’t be offended, Lady Margaret! I know it’s not my place to question your behaviour. But Michael—and your father—trust me to watch out for you. I’d have you steer clear of Hadley. He’s a dangerous man.’

      ‘Dangerous—how? Surely you don’t believe all that nonsense about the Hellions! My father told me he admires him.’

      ‘His own half-brother refuses to associate with him, and he’s completely estranged from his father. His views are extreme, even for a Radical: he’d give the vote to every man in England, from the highest lord down to a common stew from the London slums. I’ve heard he even favours abolishing the House of Lords entirely!’

      ‘Shocking, certainly,’ she allowed, unsettled to have the radical nature of his positions confirmed—if what Proctor said was true. ‘But Papa has always favoured an open exchange of views, even if the two parties cannot ultimately agree. I doubt I could be endangered just by talking with him.’

      ‘Perhaps. But a man with such extreme political views might have equally radical social ideas—advocating Free Love and the abolishment of marriage, perhaps. I wouldn’t trust a lady in his company, certainly not alone in a private room.’

      Did Hadley believe in Free Love? No wonder he seemed wicked! The naughty idea sent a spark through her still-simmering senses. Oh, she could readily imagine making free with him!

      She shook her head to rid her mind of the lusty—and pointless—thought. She had nothing more erotic in mind for her future than directing Papa’s dinners—and perhaps throwing a kiss to a voter.

      Turning back to Proctor, she said, ‘At a busy inn, with the door to the taproom standing open? Hardly a convenient site to lure someone into impropriety. Although I wouldn’t mind debating Free Love and the abolishment of marriage with him,’ she added, watching Proctor’s face.

      At his look of horror, she laughed. ‘Relax, John, I’m teasing! Though it serves you right, trying to lecture a woman of my age about her behaviour. How did the canvassing go? Does Michael think he’ll hold against Reynolds?’

      It took only that bit of encouragement to launch Proctor into a detailed explanation of how the campaign had fared in the rest of the town.

      Normally, Maggie would have listened with rapt attention. Today, however, her mind kept drifting back to a certain gentleman with vivid blue eyes and a seductive smile that had made her feel more like a desirable woman than she had since…since the debacle with Sir Francis.

      That memory ought to apply a fast brake to this runaway carriage of attraction. Recalling Hadley’s flowery last words, she frowned.

      Of course it had been gallantry. What else could it have been? They’d barely met, after all. And handsome as he was, he surely was accomplished in the fine art of flattery, and of persuading women who should know better that he found them more desirable than he did.

      She sighed. It seemed she was a slow learner.

      And yet… She had not imagined the spark that flared before them. She might have little experience, but she could still remember that enchanted time, when love for her childhood companion Robbie had transformed into something more, a layer of desire enveloping the friendship and tenderness. Ah, the mesmerising beauty of touch, the thrill of surrendering to passion, the ecstasy of possession.

      How she ached for its loss!

      No, she was not imagining the physical response she’d felt. But did Hadley truly find her desirable? Since an affair was too dangerous to contemplate, was there any point in pursuing this further?

      Common sense warned to avoid a man who might prove such a temptation. But surely life was meant to be experienced, not hemmed in by caution. Such pleasures as it presented should be grasped greedily, before they were snatched away—losing Robbie had taught her that, too.

      She was seven-and-twenty, a widow unwilling to risk her heart by marrying again, and she might not have many more opportunities to be tempted.

      His seductive person aside, Hadley was a fascinating man, with views and values she would be interested to debate. From the not-so-flattering words his half-brother had dropped about him, she’d expected he might be something of a wild man, and he did have an untamed essence about him. An aura of purpose, too, with a trace of impatience, as if he were in a great hurry to do important things. And there was more than a trace of anger smouldering under the surface, particularly when he mentioned his half-brother.

      Or was that just the passion that seemed to simmer in him? Recalling it sent a response swirling through her, and suddenly the carriage seemed too hot.

      Yes, she would see more of him, she decided. He addressed the Commons frequently, her father said. Popular as he was, there was no question that he would be re-elected to the next Parliament. If she visited the Ladies’ Gallery after the sessions began again in June, she would surely hear him speak.

      Before she heard more of his politics, though, she ought to learn more about the man. If he truly were dangerous, it would be best to know beforehand just how much of a risk he might pose.

      But who to ask? Papa, who abhorred gossip, would be unlikely to tell her more than the bare minimum about Hadley’s background.

      Then she recalled just the person who would happily spill every detail she might want to know. As soon as she returned to London, she decided, she would pay a call on her great-aunt Lilly.

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