Desire by Design

by Heather Boyd

  “Oh, why would you do that?” she cried.

  “She was falling asleep. I was afraid you and Mother would talk all night,” he said with a soft laugh.

  They might have, too. She did not particularly like walking alone on London’s streets, especially not on nights as dark as this should be outside. The moon had been waning in the sky last night, and the shadows of Mayfair’s streets could be full of thieves or worse. Sylvia wasn’t physically strong and could easily be imposed upon without any hope of defending herself without carrying some form of protection. She didn’t even have a parasol with her tonight. He’d given her no choice but to accept the protection of his servants to get herself home.

  Wharton took her elbow firmly and guided her across the hall to the door himself. The servants were nowhere to be seen as they swept out the front door very quietly, and Wharton locked it behind them.

  Sylvia looked around. “Where’s the carriage?”

  “No carriage.”

  The square was eerily dark and forbidding as Wharton escorted her down to the pavement. But her breath caught as a quartet of men immediately surrounded them.

  “Never fear. They work for me,” Wharton murmured quickly.

  She eyed the strangers nervously and edged closer to Wharton. The men nodded and fanned out ahead and behind as they started off across the square, their manner suggesting they were alert for any trouble that might come.

  “I thought you might have gone out,” she whispered to him.

  “I was waiting for you,” Wharton whispered back.

  Since it was dark, she didn’t have to bother to hide her pleasure in hearing that confession. She wound her arm through his a little tighter. “Why?”

  “Can you not guess?”

  She pressed her lips together, wondering if his thoughts mirrored her own as they had the night they’d made love. Despite his recent behavior, she still thought fondly of the time they’d spent together. He’d been an exciting lover, and she wouldn’t mind feeling so well loved again someday.

  Wharton’s men were thankfully quite a distance from them now, but still she kept her voice low. “I wouldn’t dream of knowing your mind,” she responded.

  “My mind tells me we ought not be seen together.”

  Sylvia nearly laughed. “We are together now.”

  “I mean around my mother. When her mind is sharper, she’ll catch the scent of any indiscretion between us,” he warned.

  “Not from me,” she promised.

  He gave her a long look. “What game are you playing? Cozying up to Mother will get you nowhere with me,” he warned. “Nearly weeping over her hand tonight was doing it a bit brown, I should think.”

  Sylvia gaped. “Do you believe I would not feel genuine affection for your mother? I like her very much, and I am grateful she survived. But I know she has a long way to go before she’s out of danger and fully healed. I think I will always worry about her.”

  “Mother will be herself in no time at all, I’m sure.”

  “I hope you’re proven right in the end,” Sylvia told him. “And not just fooling yourself with what you most want to hear. She needs constant care and attention if she is to recover.”

  “Miss Hillcrest, I assure you, I know my mother’s stubborn nature better than you. She will live to bedevil me for many years yet. She has no need for a companion, either. She has her family to rally around her.”

  Sylvia clenched her teeth a moment. Here it comes. He’s trying to be rid of me again. “I gave my word I’d return tomorrow.”

  “You will discover you have other plans and beg her forgiveness.”

  “I will see her.”

  Wharton shook his head. “Tomorrow you will attend a luncheon at Lady Norrington’s home. You will find an invitation awaiting you, which you will accept, along with the others that will come later.”

  Sylvia stopped. “Why would I do that?”

  “I understand my actions have caused people in society to question your reputation. I intend to set things back to how they should be.”

  She looked up at him, squinting in the dark. “You threw me out.”

  “Because you failed to heed me.” Wharton sighed. “You questioned my loyalty and affection for my mother.”

  “I know that was wrong of me.” Sylvia nodded. “You were afraid and angry, and I was too tired to watch my words. I should never have repeated what your mother had told me in confidence. And you should not have laid hands on me, either, without my permission.”

  “Obviously not,” he said. “I will not make that mistake again. But I will clear the air and ensure people believe there is no cause for lingering resentment between us.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Now that’s settled…I should inform you that Mr. Prendegast was excused from treating my mother this afternoon.”

  Sylvia glanced up in surprise and shock. “But he’s an excellent physician. The very best in London!”

  She caught a glimpse of extreme satisfaction lingering on Wharton’s face in the dim light. “Of course you would think so, wouldn’t you? I must warn you that as a result of his dismissal, his especially hired nursemaids are dismissed, too,” he continued. “Really, Sylvia? A cap and spectacles wasn’t much of a disguise.”

  She stared straight ahead. “I fooled you days longer than I even dreamed possible.”

  “You fooled me because my attention was where it should be. On my family, and not on a nursemaid with appalling dress sense. Do not cross me again, Sylvia. This is no game you’re playing with my mother’s affections. I won’t have it. I won’t offer for you if your plan is to tell her we shared a bed, either.”

  Sylvia threw up her hands. All the warm feelings Wharton stirred in her that one night vanished. The arrogant, strutting aristocrat thought her sole interest in Lady Wharton was to worm her way into their lives. “Oh, you are unbelievably thick-headed and selfish! I don’t want her to know about us, either! And never in a thousand years would I put myself into a situation where I had to marry someone who didn’t want to spend the rest of his life with me.”

  Wharton tripped over his own feet then. “I don’t want to marry you.”

  “Yes, you already made your feelings abundantly clear. Your bachelorhood is perfectly safe from me. So kindly cease your threats and go back to your society amusements, your Madam Bradshaw’s, your White’s Club wagers, or just pretend I’m invisible again and seduce the next woman in line.”

  Sylvia forced herself to take a steadying breath. She was getting worked up over nothing. So what if he thought the idea of marrying her abhorrent? How had she ever admired someone like him? It must have been just his looks that had turned her head. It certainly wasn’t his personality.

  “Now we understand each other, there is nothing more for us to ever discuss.”

  “Agreed.”

  Sylvia saw her home was not far away now. “I believe I am capable of finding my way home from here.”

  “Very well,” he replied, stepping back. “I’ll inform Mother first thing tomorrow that you have other plans.”

  Sylvia dropped him a curtsy, her heart now utterly chilled toward him. She turned to the servants who’d drawn closer as their voices had risen. The men wore a mix of astonishment and approving expressions. They must have heard everything.

  Oh, dear. That could be a problem for Wharton.

  “Good night, gentlemen. Thank you for the protection of your company. Your discretion would be deeply appreciated, too, I might add.”

  The servants all tipped their caps to her. “Our pleasure, Miss Hillcrest. It were a lovely night for a stroll.”

  “What a shame I missed the lovely part,” she muttered under her breath, and they laughed. Sylvia pulled her wrap tighter about her, and one of the servants moved ahead of her as she started off.

  “Sir?” she called.

  “We will see you all the way to the door, miss,” he said. “The marchioness would expect it of us.”

  Sy
lvia glanced behind.

  Wharton appeared to be walking home. His men had not followed after him.

  The marquess stopped, seemed to suddenly realize he was alone, turned about in rather obvious alarm, and then he scowled.

  Sylvia laughed softly at his confusion, bid the closest man a good night, and hurried up her stairs so the servants would be free to guard the marquess again.

  But as she shut the door behind her, she made another promise. She had no intention of abandoning Lady Wharton. No matter what Wharton said or did to prevent her return, she’d always keep her word to another lady.

  There were plenty of ways to bend an iron-clad rule if you tried hard enough.

  Chapter 20

  Alexander heard the heavy front door shut behind someone and got to his feet. He tugged his waistcoat down on the way to the window and peered out to see who’d just left.

  It had been four days now since the night he’d walked Sylvia home and told her not to come back to visit his mother.

  She had only tried once, and been turned away.

  But he’d seen her every day still.

  She was sitting now again in the little garden park outside Mother’s Berkley Square home, a book open in her lap, a parasol at her side, and her maid yet again flirting with one of Mother’s male servants. She had a clever setup indeed. A regular spy network that would make England proud. Notes passed from hand to hand several times a day, every day, for the last four.

  He’d tried to stop them, but she’d trained her agents far too well for him to succeed.

  Mother was an enthusiastic participant, too. She had insisted days ago that she was well enough to get out of bed to sit at her writing desk a few hours each day. At first, he’d not understood why she was so keen on the new situation. But on moving to a chair and writing desk at the window, she could see outside. See the square. See Sylvia sitting outside reading the notes she slipped to her maid to pass to Sylvia.

  And it wasn’t just the servants conspiring against his restrictions, he suspected, either.

  Mother’s friends, women well-known to him, and apparently Sylvia, were conveying Sylvia’s thoughts and opinions, too. He knew this because he’d escorted a few of Mother’s oldest friends up to her chambers personally. The first words out of their mouths had included Sylvia’s name somewhere in the greeting, and something about sending her love.

  He let the butler do the escorting now, mostly so he could keep his eye on Sylvia in the square.

  She had done as he’d asked. She’d attended the few luncheons he’d arranged to begin the work of repairing society’s impression of her. However, after each one, he found her in the square again, passing notes to her maid that eventually passed into Mother’s eager hands.

  She was having fun trying to circumvent his authority, and Mother probably was, too.

  Each visitor of Mother’s today had gone straight to Sylvia in the park afterward, and they all spoke to her for several minutes before finally leaving. Clearly the lines of communication were all wide open. All Alexander had done was put a stop to Mother and Sylvia actually sitting in the same room.

  Despite all his best laid plans to keep control of the situation, he was devilishly impressed with Sylvia’s tenacity. Would she stay out there when it rained, too? She had the parasol.

  He let the curtain fall.

  He’d never met another woman like her…and he had to do something about her soon.

  When there wasn’t a visitor in the house, and Sylvia was elsewhere, Mother was listless. He wasn’t entirely sure if his company was lacking or just not what she needed right now. But he couldn’t keep his sisters at home to sit with her during the day. She’d go downhill fast if they drove her out of her mind with their constant babbling.

  And he was starting to believe that Sylvia’s interest in his mother really did have nothing to do with him.

  That made him feel foolish in the extreme that he’d been so against the connection. It was not as if he wanted to be Mother’s only companion. Dear God, what would happen when she recovered? He wasn’t going to escort her about in society every day.

  But he couldn’t quit the field entirely, either.

  He scratched his head and made short work of packing up his papers. He’d promised himself that he could be a better son and watch over his mother. He’d never allow her to make such a dangerous decision about her life again without him knowing about it.

  But perhaps he wasn’t the only capable person who could take care of her.

  If Sylvia was allowed back into the house, at least he was confident Mother would be in good hands if he needed to leave for any length of time. There were a number of matters that required his attention. And not just an hour. He might have to make a short trip soon, too. He was loath to leave Mama alone for a whole night and most of two days.

  But if Sylvia came to stay with her, it might well be all right

  And if that were to happen, Alexander might just be able return to Wharton House for a few hours every day and tackle the papers still pilling up over his study desk. Not to mention attend the most important society functions at night sometimes, too.

  It was a tempting proposition to step back a little and allow someone else to take charge of Mother’s recovery here.

  Tempting, but was it wise to choose Sylvia, given their recent history?

  They might be butting heads over Mother, but he was starting to admire the confounding woman. There was a fear in his mind of how much more ground he might be persuaded to give later, too. If he could not hope to dig in his heels now about certain things, he’d surely regret it later.

  He glanced outside and found Sylvia’s little bench empty. He stood up straighter and leaned close to the window in search of her. She was leaving the garden square, but not heading in the direction of her home, it seemed. And she didn’t have a maid with her now.

  He headed for the front hall, found his hat and gloves himself, and told the spluttering butler to let Mother know if she asked for him that he’d be back shortly.

  Quickly, Alexander rushed down the steps and took off after Sylvia.

  She wasn’t very tall, and his longer stride caught up with her very quickly.

  He forced himself to walk more slowly so he wouldn’t get too close if she happened to look over her shoulder. She was in a hurry, and he was mesmerized by the gentle sway of her body as she slipped down the busy street. When she was far away from the square, she suddenly hailed a hack.

  “Now where are you going in that, my dear?” he muttered under his breath.

  Without his own carriage to follow in, Alexander had no choice but to hail a hack to keep up with her. He told the coachman to follow Sylvia’s carriage.

  He hugged the window on the journey, watching with unabashed interest where she went to make sure there was no confusion as to their direction. But when her carriage turned, his did, too. Until she was forced to stop right in the middle of busy Bond Street because of excessive traffic.

  Alexander eased back from the window, in case he was recognized by passing members of society. He leaned toward the window every now and then to check on the delay, and noticed Sylvia stepped out of her carriage, was paying the driver, and then she rushed off down a narrow side street.

  Only foolish women took such risks in London.

  Alexander climbed out quickly, too, throwing the driver a wealth in coin as payment and made to follow.

  But of Sylvia, there was no sign now.

  The alley she’d slipped into was empty, and thinking that he’d missed her leaving it again, he looked around desperately.

  After a few minutes, he was extremely worried. He was almost positive she’d not left the alley to go somewhere else.

  Alexander entered the ally at a brisk pace, but had to slow his steps quickly as the cobblestones were slick with filth under his feet. He picked his way more cautiously through the slush and mess of an unswept carriageway best left to thieves and vagabonds, looking for sig
ns of her.

  He found no one lurking, and no Sylvia, either.

  A tight ball of concern formed in his stomach as he wondered what had happened to her. This area was not fashionable, as much of the shopping district could be called. London was a dangerous place for a tasty morsel such as Sylvia Hillcrest. “She should have a bloody keeper,” he growled to himself.

  And then he saw her at last. She emerged from a little shop not far away. Her head was down, and she didn’t notice him. She seemed to be checking an item off a list of some sort.

  As she approached the street where traffic was thickest, head still down, his breath caught in fear. She wasn’t looking at all where she was going.

  Just as he prepared to shout out a warning to be careful, she finally looked up, hand raised in greeting.

  But not for him.

  A fine carriage stopped beside her and, after a few moments of conversation, she climbed inside.

  Alexander craned his neck to see more of the carriage and discover who the occupants might be. He let out a relieved breath when he got a clear view. He easily recognized the coat of arms on the door, and Sylvia sitting in the rear-facing seat. She was in one of the Duke of Exeter’s marked carriages, which meant Sylvia was about to be delivered home in style.

  He took one last look, noted her direction seemed to be taking her back down Bond Street, where traffic was still thick and slow.

  He should easily reach her home before her.

  Alexander grinned and turned his attention to the shop Sylvia had just visited. By the look of it, she’d gone to a modiste, but not one that he had been aware of before today. He’d investigate her business tomorrow.

  Alexander raised his hand to hail another hack for himself and gave them orders to take him straight to Albemarle Street in a hurry.

  There was really only one thing to do with a reckless woman like Sylvia Hillcrest. She wanted to be indispensable, and so she would be from now on. The woman had no idea of her value to him, but she would before dark. She’d forced his hand with her rebellion and trickery, and he would have to take steps to protect her from herself starting today.