Never Mix Sin with Pleasure

by Renee Ann Miller

  She blinked. “I beg your forgiveness. I did not mean to overstep.”

  He waved his hand in the air. He wasn’t concerned about her apology; he’d only found it difficult to comprehend how she’d added the figures together without even seeing them on paper. It seemed incomprehensible to him. “Forget about that, just repeat the figure you said.”

  “Eight hundred and fifty-five.”

  He wondered if she’d seen what he’d written down. “Really, then what is eight hundred and fifty-five plus one hundred and forty-two?”

  She folded her hands in her lap. “Nine hundred and ninety-seven, my lord.”

  He wrote down her answer and carefully compared it to the answer he’d written down earlier. They were the same. Good Lord. He glanced up at her. “You’re correct.”

  “I’ve always possessed a strange ability to calculate figures. Mrs. Garson, the matron at All Saints Orphanage, realized it and not only gave me a teaching position, but the job of handling the orphanage’s ledgers.”

  Usually companions were down-on-their-luck women of genteel birth. “Did you grow up at All Saints?”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “And how is it you became Lady Winton’s companion?”

  “Her ladyship is a second cousin to the village squire. He gave me a letter of reference.”

  Anthony nodded. He slid the ledger across the desk, pointed to a column, and handed Miss Michaels the pencil. “Can you add this?”

  She looked down at the three figures. “Two thousand eight hundred and eighty-nine.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck and blinked. Again, the same figure he’d taken a protracted time to calculate. “Miss Michaels, I’ll only hire you to be my grandmother’s companion if you agree to one other stipulation. Let us call it a proposition.”

  Chapter Five

  Olivia Michaels stared at him like a rabbit caught in the gaze of a hungry fox. What type of position did she think he wanted her for?

  Unbidden, a wicked image of her naked body lying in his bed flashed in his mind. He pushed it aside. “I assure you, the position I offer you is not nefarious. I’m in need of a clerk. Someone skilled with figures. So, I’ll hire you as my grandmother’s companion, if you agree to work for me in your spare time.”

  She nibbled her lower lip.

  Obviously, that old battle-ax Lady Winton had filled Miss Michaels with scandalous tales about him being a womanizer. “I’ll treat you the same way I treat my brother’s man of affairs. And believe me, I’ve no interest in the chap besides his competency.”

  “If you employ such a fellow why would you need me?”

  Because Walters really worked for James, and if they spent several weeks together, he was sure the man would find out about Anthony’s problem—the way numbers imposed themselves out of order. He’d kept this secret his whole life, feigned laziness and disinterest. Gotten himself kicked out of several schools with his bad behavior as soon as he believed someone was catching onto the truth.

  He couldn’t risk Walters finding out and reporting this knowledge to James when he returned from holiday. Miss Michaels could be a buffer between him and Walters. She could handle the mathematics that seemed to get twisted about in his head.

  “Walters spends most of his time at the Trent family’s offices on Bond Street. We have a weekly meeting to go over several expenditures and ledgers, but there is a great deal of work to be handled here. You’ll be paid for the additional time.”

  Her hazel eyes widened, and he realized they were a pretty mixture of amber with little specks of gold toward the outer edges of her irises. “What do you say?”

  She glanced down at her hands, folded primly in her lap, then returned her regard to him.

  “You need a job, Miss Michaels. I am offering you not one, but two. And both will pay exceedingly well.”

  “Thank you, my lord. I accept. What am I to tell Mrs. Parks?”

  “I’ll handle both her and the butler.”

  She reached into her pocket and removed a stack of letters.

  “What are these?” he asked, taking them from her.

  “I believe I have already met your grandmother. She asked me to give these to the butler.”

  She possessed a strong constitution if she’d met his cantankerous grandmother and still accepted the job. It proved how desperate she was, which was a godsend for him. He stood and pulled the bell rope. As he waited for Menders to enter the room, Anthony’s gaze traveled over Olivia Michaels, who was a good seven inches shorter than his six feet. She possessed an oval face with freckles on her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. Her hair, pulled into a tight bun at the back of her head, was a bright shade of red. His gaze dipped a little lower. Her breasts were small, but her derriere was rather shapely. The type of bottom a man could hold onto while she rode him to the point of ecstasy. He shoved that thought aside. He didn’t dally with those in his family’s employ.

  Noticing his regard, she looked self-conscious and once again peered at her lap.

  He pulled his gaze away.

  A knock sounded on the door.

  “Come in,” Anthony said.

  Menders stepped into the room. The butler’s gaze shifted to Olivia. The man’s eyes grew wide. Frowning, he opened his mouth.

  “Menders,” Anthony said, cutting the butler off before he could utter a word. “This is Miss Olivia Michaels. She is the elder Lady Huntington’s new companion. Please show her to the bedchamber across from my grandmother’s.”

  The butler blinked. “Yes, my lord.”

  Anthony folded his arms over his chest. “Menders, sadly Miss Michaels had to pretend to be a maid to gain admittance into this residence. She doesn’t recall which footman closed the door on her face when she inquired whether I was in, and doesn’t believe she’d recall his face if she saw him again, but I want the staff to know they will be severely reprimanded if they turn callers away before they inquire into that person’s business.”

  “Of course, my lord.” The butler gave Miss Michaels a sideways glance and an expression of relief flashed over the man’s face. Hopefully, he’d feel indebted to her now. It would make her transition into being Grandmother’s companion easier, for the old woman surely wouldn’t make it so.

  Anthony picked up the stack of letters and handed them to the butler. “These need to be put in the post, but beforehand show Miss Michaels to her room.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  Miss Michaels stood. “Thank you, Lord Anthony.”

  “Miss Michaels, when you are settled, please return here.” Anthony rounded the desk and sat, ending the conversation.

  The door clicked closed behind them.

  He peered at the ledger and frowned at the numbers in a long column, wondering if he was seeing them correctly. With any luck, Grandmother wouldn’t scare the chit away. He needed her help.

  James entered the office. “What were Menders and the new maid doing in here?”

  “I’ve hired her to be Grandmother’s companion.”

  “Grandmother’s what?” Razor-thin sharpness edged James’s voice.

  “Companion,” Anthony repeated. “Grandmother has become accustomed to Caroline accompanying her. With your wife away, I thought it a good idea.”

  “Anthony, what’s this about?” James asked, a suspicious glint in his narrowed eyes.

  His brother was too smart. Anthony drew in a breath. “The woman lost her position as Lady Winton’s companion.”

  “And you had something to do with it? What did you do?”

  Damnation, he was tired of everyone asking him that question. “I bloody well did nothing.”

  “You’re not responsible?”

  “I’m not. She climbed into the wrong carriage yesterday.”

  “Really?” His brother’s voice dripped with disbelief.

  “James, I was out with Maria.”

  “Yes, I heard.”

  Good Lord, news traveled about London at lightning speed. “After La
dy Winton saw the girl with me in my carriage, she fired her. The old bird won’t even give her a reference.”

  “So, you think you’re doing her a favor by setting her up to deal with Grandmother?”

  “Better that, than being on the street.”

  “I suppose you are right but do me a favor. Don’t tell Grandmother until after Caroline and I leave. I do not wish to hear her reaction. And that poor chit, if she thought Lady Winton a wretched employer, she might have just made a deal with the devil.”

  “I’ll handle it.”

  James nodded. “We are leaving. Caroline and your nephews wish to say goodbye.”

  They strode into the entry hall where a flurry of activity commenced. Caroline was holding her elder son Michael’s hand. Thaddeus, age two, dressed in a sailor’s suit, was crying in his nanny’s arms and reaching for his mother.

  “Someone is in need of a nap.” James took Michael’s hand, so Caroline could take the weeping child in her arms.

  Caroline smiled and rubbed Thad’s back. “I’m sure he’ll fall asleep on the train.”

  His sister-in-law always possessed remarkable calmness in the face of chaos, especially when it involved her children. Most women he knew would have instructed the nanny to contend with the child, but not Caroline.

  Anthony caught the look his grandmother was bestowing on him. It said it all. Move on. She didn’t understand. He did not lust after his brother’s wife. He lusted over what James and Caroline had. His sister-in-law’s total devotion to his brother. She loved James and her children and would do anything for them. The same was true for James regarding his wife and sons.

  Grandmother thumped her cane against the marble tiles in the entry. “Well, you best get going.” The old woman looked as if forced to endure another moment with the children, her cold heart might turn to ice and shatter within her.

  “Yes, time to shove off.” James clapped a hand onto Anthony’s shoulder. “We will see you in a month’s time.”

  Both Caroline and James kissed Grandmother’s papery cheek.

  Anthony bent down in front of his nephew Michael. Unlike the Trents’ dark midnight-colored hair, the boy possessed light brown locks with threads of gold, like Caroline’s. He tousled the boy’s hair. “You be a good lad now.”

  The child nodded and clutched at Anthony’s sleeve. “Uncle Tony, won’t you come with us?”

  “I can’t, little man. I need to stay here and hold the fort. And you need to be a good boy for Mama and Papa. I shall see you when you return. I expect to hear all about it.” He stood and followed them outside to where two carriages waited.

  Apprehensions over tending to the completion of Victory Pens’s new manufacturing building, along with the other businesses, including the accounts for Caroline’s newspaper, drifted through the back of Anthony’s mind. He should have told James the truth. Should have told him of his trouble with figures. The reason he’d given his tutors and teachers such a hard time. The reason he’d left university to travel the Continent.

  Caroline turned to him. Her hand clutched his as she leaned close. “You shall do fine, Anthony,” she said as if reading his thoughts. She kissed his cheek and Caroline and James climbed into their carriage.

  You cannot do this, that naysaying voice in his head whispered. Tell James. He took a single step toward the carriage, then froze. He needed to try.

  “Move on,” the coachman of the first carriage called to the horses.

  The two vehicles moved up Park Lane. He turned to see Grandmother standing in the doorway, her gray gaze locked on him. She still didn’t understand the emotions churning within him.

  “Don’t say a word, madam,” he said sharply as he strode past her. “Do I make myself clear?”

  Grandmother arched a gray brow but kept her guidance to herself.

  He stepped into James’s office—his office for now—and closed the door and paced the length of the navy and gold Turkish carpet.

  Someone knocked.

  Damnation, he should have realized Grandmother would need to make her opinion known. He didn’t have the patience to converse with her right now—too many thoughts were going through his head. Tomorrow he would visit his mistress and end their arrangement. Right now, he needed to contend with a high-strung mistress like Maria as much as he needed a bullet in the head.

  He jerked the door open.

  Olivia Michaels gasped and reared back. He could imagine his expression. He probably looked like the devil. He forced a smile and motioned to one of the chairs that faced the desk. “Come in, Miss Michaels.”

  Sitting, she, once again, folded her hands primly in her lap. The plain navy dress she wore wasn’t much nicer than the gray maid’s uniform she’d worn earlier, perhaps worse, since the darker color washed out her pale face.

  “Are you all settled?” he asked.

  “Yes. The bedchamber Menders showed me to is lovely.” Her eyes sparkled with pleasure.

  They were expressive with a kaleidoscope of colors. And when she smiled it transformed her simple face.

  “I’ve never slept in such a room. It’s . . .” She blushed. “Forgive me, I’m prattling on.”

  “I’m glad you’re pleased.” Hopefully, the room’s elegance would compensate for the woman having to contend with his irritable grandmother. He didn’t feel like dealing with the matriarch anymore today. “Tomorrow morning report here, and I will introduce you to the elder Lady Huntington.”

  “Am I to help with the ledgers this evening?”

  They had already given him a headache and he needed to go buy Maria a gift for when he ended their arrangement tomorrow. Afterward, he intended on going to his club. “No.”

  * * *

  The following day near noon, Anthony stepped into his office to see the little redheaded mouse he’d hired as his grandmother’s companion sitting in one of the two chairs that faced his desk. He mumbled a curse under his breath as he remembered he’d told her to meet him here in the morning.

  “Forgive me, Miss Michaels, I overslept.”

  She nodded but did not say anything.

  “Have you been waiting long?”

  She glanced at the clock on the mantel. “No, my lord, only four hours.”

  Since eight? Who the bloody hell got up that early? He supposed those who’d not gone out drinking with their chums and gotten pissing drunk. He pulled on the bell rope.

  A few minutes later, the butler entered the room. “Yes, my lord?”

  “Is the dowager in the blue drawing room, Menders?”

  “She is.”

  “Has she had her tea yet?”

  “No. I was just about to bring it.”

  “Very good. Ten minutes after you do so, I want you to show Miss Michaels to the drawing room. She’ll wait for you here.”

  “Very well, my lord.” Menders nodded and left.

  “Miss Michaels, you must be resilient when dealing with the elder Lady Huntington. In simple words, she can be rather difficult at times.” That wasn’t completely true. Her mood didn’t shift, she was usually always cantankerous, but it would be best if Olivia Michaels thought it only a momentary lapse, not a perpetual state.

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “Very well, I will go and inform her of your employment.” Anthony strode from the first-floor office, took the stairs two at a time, and entered the blue drawing room.

  Grandmother sat in one of the two damask chairs that faced the sofa. She held a book in her gnarled fingers and peered over its edge at him.

  “I need to talk with you.”

  “About?” She closed the novel and placed it beside her on the cushion.

  Menders entered the room, carrying a silver tea service.

  As the butler set the tray on the mahogany table beside the matriarch’s chair, the dowager stared at Anthony.

  “Do you wish me to pour, madam?” Menders asked.

  With a flick of her hand, Grandmother shooed the butler away, and the man strode from the
room.

  “Let me get that.” Anthony sat in the chair adjacent to hers and poured her tea into a delicate cup and saucer that felt too small in his large hands.

  The old woman’s sharp, gray eyes studied him.

  “You like it with three lumps of sugar.” It wasn’t a question; he might have trouble with figures, but he was observant.

  She nodded, but her astute gaze narrowed. She knew he was up to something. He enjoyed having tea with her as much as he enjoyed being thrown from a horse.

  He lifted the tongs and added the cubes of sugar to her tea. His brother James always said that after ingesting so much sugar one would think it would have sweetened the old bird’s disposition, but it hadn’t. Smiling, he handed her the cup and saucer.

  “What are you up to, Anthony?” Soundlessly, she took a sip, yet her shrewd eyes continued to watch him over the rim of the cup.

  “Up to?” He stood and moved to the massive marble fireplace. In mock indignation, he pressed his fingers to his chest. “You offend me, dear Grandmother. Whatever do you mean?”

  “I’m old, not senile. You wish to share tea with me as much as the devil wishes to converse with a saint.”

  “What an interesting analogy. So, which one of us is the devil in this scenario?” He leaned an arm on the mantel. “I’ve hired you a companion.”

  “A what?” Grandmother slammed her teacup onto the tray, causing the teapot to rattle. The spoon slipped from the saucer and clanked against the polished tray.

  “A companion,” he repeated in an elevated voice, insinuating her hearing was deficient.

  “I’m not deaf, Anthony. I heard you loud and clear. I don’t need or wish for a companion. I demand you dismiss the woman.”

  “She’ll be company for you. And with Caroline and James away, she can accompany you to the theater. You know I have little interest in sitting in the family box and watching a play.”

  “True. You would rather go to the actresses’ dressing rooms and act the scoundrel.”

  “Yes, well, that’s neither here nor there.”

  “I insist you sack the woman.”

  He straightened. “I won’t. Now, I think it’s time you met her.”

  “Have you gone mad? I said no.” She thumped her cane against the rug.