As he strode down the footpath toward his carriage, suddenly Michael felt lighter and filled with purpose. He hadn’t felt that way since after Edward died, not even during the war. Perhaps finally things weren’t going to be so bad after all.
Chapter 5
“It is just as I suspected!” Holly cried, as she read the note once again. After the chaos earlier that morning she’d immediately sent out some letters seeking information.
“What are you referring to?” Violet asked, peering up from the pages of her book.
Holly glanced around the library, making sure that Daphne wasn’t anywhere in the vicinity. Though she didn’t like to keep things from her youngest sister, she was still just a girl, and somethings were better off being kept secret from her, as Daphne did tend to blurt out information, before thinking better of it.
Thankfully Violet was much more like Holly and could be relied upon to keep a secret. “I knew that those bounders were up to something!” Holly folded up the paper, before stuffing it into her skirt pocket and marching over to the hat stand. She plucked her teal bonnet from off the hook.
“Your callers from this morning?” Violet guessed. Her sister was always very quick to catch on about things.
“Yes,” she replied, slamming the hat on her head and tying up the strings. “I sent a letter to Lady Winthrup asking her if she’d heard anything relating to the three men.”
“Well, Mabel Winthrup is the biggest gossip in London, if anyone would know anything it’s bound to be her,” Violet surmised. “And by your response I’m guessing she knows what the men are up to.”
“Indeed, she does.” One could always rely on Mabel to know the latest on dit, the woman was a veritable fount of information. “Apparently, the men have a wager going between the three of them, worth three thousand pounds as to who can seduce me first!”
“What?” Violet’s book fell forgotten in her lap. “You cannot be serious!”
“Oh, I am,” she said, pulling out the note from Lady Winthrup and walking it over to Violet. She pushed it into her sister’s somewhat stunned hand, before returning to the stand and retrieving her cloak from it.
Violet read the short missive quickly. “How dare they do such a thing!”
“Actually, I’m rather glad of it. It’s very fortuitous timing.” Holly swung the cloak over her shoulders.
“Fortuitous timing?” Violet sounded outraged. “Are you serious, Holly? Are you not furious that they’ve only been paying you attention because of a bet?”
“Not in the slightest,” Holly replied. And it was true, well except for Michael’s role in it. She could care less about the Devil Duke or St. Giles chasing after her because of a bet, in fact she was somewhat flattered by their attention, especially as she knew she’d never succumb to their charms. What did hurt though, was that Michael had only been seeking her out because of it. After their past together she’d expected a bit more from him.
She never should have let him kiss her. She knew what he was like, though a part of her had thought perhaps she meant something more to him than all of the other ladies he’d kissed. More the fool she. Though it had awakened in her a hunger and curiosity to know what it was like to experience passion.
For so long, she’d placed the needs and wants of everyone else above her own. It was time to place her own needs first for a change.
Not that she was about to confess any of that to her sister, although she suspected Violet had already guessed or at least imagined what had been going on in the sitting room that morning between Holly and Michael, her sister was after all three-and-twenty and rather clever too.
“Well I would be furious!” Violet declared, standing and striding over to Holly while waving the note around like a flag. “And I’d be surprised if deep down you weren’t either.”
“What I am, is excited.” Holly plucked the note out of her sister’s hand and returned it to her pocket.
“Excited?” There was disbelief in Violet’s voice. “You’re excited that you’re essentially a piece of meat in a wager between three scoundrels? Have you gone mad, sister?”
Holly briefly considered the question. Perhaps she had, though she was always one to believe the glass was half full. “I’m going to use the bet for my own purposes.”
“What do you mean?” Violet’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t actually intend to be seduced by Blackthorn, do you?”
She could already feel the blush staining her cheeks at the suggestion. “Why would you immediately say him? The other two are nearly as handsome.” Hopefully her sister wouldn’t realize Holly hadn’t answered the question, because after a great deal of reflection, Holly had decided that she did want to be seduced by him. She was wasn’t getting any younger, and it was highly unlikely that she’d ever have a chance to have an illicit affair again.
And if she was going to have an intimate liaison with anyone, Michael would be the one to do so with, as not only was she greatly attracted to him, but he would be well versed in how to pleasure her. The very thought sent a decidedly wicked thrill all the way down to her toes.
It was time to think of her own needs. She deserved to at least have some memories of excitement and satisfaction to hold on to.
“Please,” Violet scoffed, placing her hands on the cream-colored gown covering her hips. “St. Giles is by far the handsomest of the lot. But why Blackthorn, you ask?” A smug little grin crossed her rosy lips. “Anyone only had to look at you both to see the attraction literally simmering between the two of you.”
“You exaggerate the situation, Violet.” Holly buttoned up the cloak, refusing to be goaded by her sister.
“No. I don’t,” Violet replied. “I feel it prudent to remind you, Holly, that you’re not actually a widow, which clearly these men don’t know or they’d be avoiding you like the plague.”
“I’m well aware of that fact, Violet.” A sister could be a right royal pain sometimes. “You can rest assured, I have no intention of allowing anyone to take liberties with me against my will. Most especially not Blackthorn.” Violet didn’t need to know that Holly fully intended to give Michael permission to seduce her.
Though she did feel a bit guilty about possibly misleading her sister. But there were some things that simply couldn’t be shared.
“Then where are you going at this hour? It’s nearly midnight, Holly.”
“I’ll explain it to you when I get back, I promise.” She squeezed her sister’s hands before striding over to the door. “I should be back before the morning, but just in case I’m not, do make sure Daphne gets to her lessons.”
“They’re dangerous men, Holly,” Violet warned. “Most especially, Blackthorn.”
“He would never hurt me, sister.”
“Not physically,” Violet agreed. “It’s more your heart I’m worried for.”
Holly took a deep breath and paused with her hand on the door knob. That was her fear too, though she’d nearly convinced herself it would be fine. “My heart is quite safe, trust me.” She could see the concern in her sister’s eyes and for once was touched rather than vexed. “You know I need to help Lady Clare retrieve those letters. Not only do we need the funds her commission will pay, but she’s too kind and decent to let a scoundrel ruin her.”
Violet sighed. “So, whatever you’re up to has something to do with that?”
She nodded. “I need to get to Pembrook’s country manor and all three of those dolts have invitations to his hunting party this coming weekend.”
Violet’s eyes widened in understanding. “Oh, you are fiendishly clever, Holly.”
“Time to make their bet work in my favor, I think. Don’t you?” In more ways than one.
The two women grinned at each other, before Violet raced up and gave her a quick hug. “Just guard your heart, sister. I fear Lord Blackthorn would unintentionally tear it to shreds if you let him.”
Holly nodded, before turning around and hurrying down the hallway to the front door. Violet’
s worries were unfounded as Holly had no intention of giving him her heart. Her body perhaps, but never her heart. She’d already lost her father and brother. The two most important men in her life. Her heart couldn’t withstand falling hard for a man and then losing him too as of course was bound to happen if she gave her heart to Michael.
No. She wouldn’t permit that. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t allow herself to experience the decadence of his touch.
After all, she was six and twenty and well and truly on the shelf. This could be the last time she had an opportunity to know what all the fuss of a man bedding a woman was about. And if it was as pleasurable as his kisses, well then, she was open to giving it a try. Though she would never be stupid enough to entrust her heart with a rake, something Michael was, and would always be. Leopards never changed their spots in the end.
Chapter 6
The fog outside the window slowly crept up the buildings, cloaking everything in a white haze until it all seemed to be fading away into nothingness, and for some reason Michael felt he was getting a glimpse of his own future.
He sighed and sunk back further into his leather chair, staring at the roaring flames of the hearth. Perhaps the fire would dispel the odd mood he’d been in for most of the day. But it was no use. A sense of inevitability clung to him, heavily. Which try as he might, he couldn’t shake.
After leaving Holly’s house in the morning, following that farce of a visit with those buffoons he called friends, his spirits had been high. Probably the highest they’d been in years, but then reality had hit him like a brick when he’d been summoned to his father’s townhouse shortly after. The visit reminding him amply, of how ludicrous it was to think he could be happy. That he could possibly lead a normal life.
What a fool he was.
And now here he was in his study, trying to drown his sorrows with whiskey and he couldn’t even do that. He was not only a fool but an incompetent one, to boot.
A prickle of awareness crept up his neck and instantly Michael knew he wasn’t alone.
“You’re not going to try to rob my safe now, are you?” He said aloud to his previously empty study. Though he couldn’t see her, he could sense her.
The feminine huff of annoyance echoed loudly through the room, originating from behind him toward the doors to the patio. “How did you know I was here? Let alone that it was me?”
He smiled, in spite of his glumness. Seemed like Holly could always lift his mood. “Fresh linen and rosewater.”
From the corner of his eye she moved into view, wearing a tailored black cloak over an emerald green dress, with a matching green bonnet sporting some leaves throughout the lace netting of it.
“What do you mean linen and rosewater?” she asked.
“Fresh linen, actually,” he replied, stretching his legs out in front of him. “You smell of fresh linen and rosewater. A combination I’ve recently grown rather fond of. That’s how I knew you were here.”
She pursed her lips as her gaze went from him to the bottle of whiskey and the glass sitting on the table to his right. “How many of those have you had?”
“Not enough.” He reached forward and picked up his glass, before taking a healthy swallow. “That’s for certain.”
Wandering over to the seat across from him Holly sat down, the hoop of her skirt compressing in the small confines of the space.
“Some of the garden appears to have gotten into your millinery,” he pointed out.
A mutinous expression crossed that beautiful face of hers, but her hands quickly reached up and swatted some of the greenery from her hat. Oh yes, she was definitely miffed and he only wanted her all the more.
He was going insane.
“You could have used the front door,” he decided to mention. “Probably easier than traipsing through the back-garden and picking the balcony lock, I dare say.”
“And be seen entering your residence alone and at this hour?” She scoffed. “I’m not an idiot.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that. Traipsing about London on your own at this hour seems fairly idiotic to me.” He held up his glass to her. “But where are my manners? Would you like a drink?”
“Yes, actually I would,” she replied, rendering him momentarily speechless.
Reaching over, she plucked the glass from his hands and took a healthy swallow before handing it back to him.
A moment later she started coughing.
“Good gracious, what is that stuff?” she choked out. “It burns.”
Michael grinned. “Bloody good, isn’t it? But I doubt you’ve come to talk to me about Scotch whiskey. Want to tell me why you’re visiting me in the dead of night, and how for that matter, did you know I’d be home?” He’d usually be at his club at this time of the night, but after his encounter with his father all he’d felt like doing was being alone.
“Lucky, I suppose.” She shrugged. “I thought I’d try here first and then if I had no luck, I was going to try your club next, and then if you weren’t there I was going to find your friends and see if they knew where you were.”
“My friends?” He could literally start to feel his blood heating.
“Yes,” she concurred. “I thought surely the Devil Duke or St. Giles would know your whereabouts or could at least point me in the right direction.”
“And tell me this,” he’d dropped his voice to nearly a whisper. “How were you getting around to all of these places at this hour of the evening, or rather morning? And visiting notorious bachelors’ residences into the bargain!”
“By hackney, my lord. How else? I don’t own a carriage, like some.”
There was a definite edge of sarcasm in her tone. “Did you not for one moment consider that the streets of London are dangerous? Especially for a woman as attractive as yourself, at this time of the morning!” He wasn’t whispering anymore. In fact, his servants were probably wide awake with his yelling by now.
But Holly wasn’t fussed as she continued to calmly sit there, plucking greenery and twigs from her cloak. “’Tis lucky I found you here then, isn’t it, and as you can see I’m safe and sound.”
“Not for much bloody longer,” Michael growled.
She merely raised an eyebrow at him, much like one of his old governesses used to do in silent chastisement. “I know about the wager.”
Her words stopped him cold. “The wager?”
“Yes, the wager.” She smiled calmly at him. Too calmly, for someone who’d only just found out about such a thing. “The one where whoever is the first to seduce me wins the three-thousand-pounds. That wager.”
Damn it. She did know. “I can explain.”
“There’s no need to.”
Michael narrowed his eyes upon her. There was a calmness and composure to her that he certainly would not have expected her to possess upon discovering the wager. “Are you not upset?” He braced himself for an outburst of the anger that was sure to come, but all she did was shrug.
“It’s actually quite handy.”
“Handy?” He wondered if his voice sounded as perplexed as he felt. Perhaps Holly was furious, more furious than he thought possible. Although she didn’t seem at all furious. Not in the slightest. Her lack of anger was rather disturbing.
“Yes. You see, I’ve come to offer you a proposition. One that I think will meet both of our needs.”
“A proposition?” He nearly stammered over the words. “God help me.”
“Yes, a proposition. Now, are you certain you haven’t drunk too much?” She looked suspiciously down at the whiskey bottle, then back up to him. “I do want you to be sober enough to remember what you’re agreeing to.”
“Damn it, I’m sober. Ridiculously sober at the moment, unfortunately!” he exclaimed. Staying here, alone, with her in arm’s reach and talking about a proposition was a very bad idea. A very bad idea, indeed.
She tilted her chin to the side, looking entirely unimpressed. “There’s no need to bite my head off. I’m simply making ce
rtain.”
“Holly, will you please get to the damn point.” He ran a hand through his hair and had to make an effort to calm down. Jumping to his feet, he began pacing across the room. Anything to try to alleviate the sudden restlessness he was feeling.
“You know,” she pointed out. “I should be the one vexed over the wager, not you.”
“Holly…” he growled, pausing for a heartbeat before continuing to pace up and back. “Please just get to the point.”
“Well, you obviously wish to win your bet, considering your behavior toward me in the last two days. And I…. I need an invitation to Lord Pembrook’s hunting party this weekend at his country estate.”
“And?” Michael prompted, feeling somewhat confused.
“Isn’t it obvious?” she enthused. “I shall agree to be your, what was it called in your wager? Your mistletoe mistress I believe? Well, I shall agree to that, and then you can take me to Pembrook’s this weekend.”
“Let me guess.” Michael stopped pacing and turned to face her. “So you can search his safe?”
Holly grinned at him. “Exactly. You can win your wager and I will have a legitimate excuse for being there. Pembrook won’t be at all suspicious if he thinks you and I are having a discreet liaison. Then while all you men are off hunting, and the ladies are busy doing whatever it is they do at a hunting party, I shall have ample time to search Pembrook’s safe.”
Michael took in a deep lungful of air, praying for patience right at that instant. “You have it all figured out, don’t you?”
“I do.” There was a definite sparkle of smugness in her gaze. “As I said, as long as we’re circumspect, it’s more than acceptable for a widow to be having a liaison with a lord. Happens all the time in society and shall work out quite well for us, don’t you think?”
“All except the part about being my mistletoe mistress.” With very deliberate steps, he walked over to where she sat and braced both of his hands on either side of her chair. Slowly, he lowered his head until it was but an inch from her own.
The Mistletoe Mistress (Saints & Scoundrels) Page 5