Improper Pleasures (The Pleasure Series)

by Cheryl Howe

  Her mother came to stand in front of the small mirror, nudging Astra aside. “Postponing the wedding would be a mistake.”

  “I am feeling a little faint.” Astra grasped onto Phillina’s hand with the same enthusiasm as her tossed hope of reprieve. She guided Phillina back to the leather chair, or perhaps it was the other way around. In either case, both she and Phillina sank into the lumpy cushions, Phillina in the chair and Astra on the matching foot rest.

  “All that will pass in a few months,” her mother said, not turning from her reflection.

  “No, Mother, it will not. I am the one who will be forced to live a lie. You do not realize what havoc your schemes cause on—”

  “I meant the morning sickness, Astra.” Her mother turned and met Astra’s gaze. “I think it might be a boy. They are always the most difficult to carry.”

  “Morning sickness? I thought you said you weren’t with child?” Phillina brushed back hair from what was no doubt Astra’s horrified expression.

  “You can thank me later. A mother always knows best.” Her mother returned to the mirror and patted her perfectly arranged hair as if she would be the bride this afternoon.

  “But we’ve been careful.” Astra covered her mouth with a hand before she blurted out more than she cared to reveal in front of Lady Phillina in the church’s anteroom.

  “Did he tell you that? I had no idea you were still so naive, Astra. There’s no such thing. As much as you two have been sneaking about, I’m surprised this hadn’t happened sooner. And with your history, I don’t know why you’re so shocked.” Lady Seabrook draped a long dark curl down her bodice.

  Astra added the days in her head and did not like the answers she received. She was indeed late. She was never late except… Good lord, James would never forgive her.

  “Oh Astra, it is true, isn’t it?” Lady Phillina reached for her cold hand. “This is wonderful.”

  “James does not have any idea. I am not even sure. I do not wish to excite him until I am sure.” Astra gripped the elder Keane’s surprisingly warm hand.

  “I understand, dear.” Lady Phillina gently touched Astra’s cheek. “I could not agree more. But women know these things. Eastlan will be ringing with the sound of little laughter by Christmas. What a wonderful gift.”

  A knock sounding at the door saved Astra from saying more. She could not say for certain if James would even be in England for Christmas.

  “Not a word about my condition to James until I am sure exactly what my condition is. Is that understood?” Astra stood, forcing herself to composure. She couldn’t be positive she was with child so soon and the possibility would not help things between she and James in the least.

  “Of course, dear. I’d never be so bold as to interfere in such a delicate situation,” Lady Phillina passionately reassured her.

  Astra bent to squeeze Phillina’s hand. “I know you would not, Lady Phillina. I apologize for my harsh words. They were intended for my mother.”

  The knock sounded again, rattling the door with the force of impatience and leaving no doubt that the visitor was indeed male.

  Her mother sauntered to the door. “You have always been an ungrateful little brat.” Her mother blew her a kiss to show she meant her words to be humorous.

  “I am serious, Mother. Not a word to James or I will follow through with my threat to toss you out of Eastlan.”

  Her mother paused at the door, either unbelieving or undisturbed by the idea that Astra would do such a thing. “I am the height of discretion.”

  Her mother yanked open the door, her smile drooping when she discovered who stood outside. “Oh, it’s you.”

  “I’d like a word with Astra, if I may?” Wesley peeked past her mother’s retreating form. At first sight, she was thrilled to see a friendly face, then her spirits sagged with the prospect of facing him. What must he think of her?

  Astra stood, not wanting to explain herself to Wesley in front of her mother and Lady Phillina. “A breath of fresh air would do me a world of good. Do you mind walking while we talk, Wesley?”

  Wesley brightened. “I would love to escort you for a stroll.”

  “The ceremony begins in less than a half-hour,” her mother said as she marched back to the door. “You should rest.”

  Astra allowed Wesley to take her arm, ignoring her mother’s not so subtle hint. “I’ll be back shortly.”

  Once outside, Astra took a deep breath, surprised at how truly lovely the day had turned. A warm spring breeze ruffled the wild lavender, leaving a fragrant wake. The late morning sun draped a gold veil over the overgrown shrubs. Funny, she had noticed nothing but her own misery since dawn broke.

  “I keep telling myself what I hear—what I now see with my very own eyes, isn’t true. Could not possibly be true,” Wesley pleaded in a hoarse whisper.

  “I know you must be surprised,” Astra said trying to sound calm. She had expected Wesley to question her actions, but his passionate reaction unnerved her.

  She led him to an old willow tree several yards away from the church.

  “Surprise does not describe it by half. Horrified is more like it.”

  Astra directed Wesley behind the shelter of the willow’s trunk. “I realize you and James had a bad start.”

  James and I…I recall an extremely ugly scene on the day of his arrival between James and yourself. The man has tried to rob you of your inheritance. “I—” Wesley suddenly paused and Astra thought he either swallowed a bug or was having an apoplexy on the spot.

  He dropped his head and she feared it was the latter. “You did not have to resort to these extreme measures. I would have squeezed the money for your settlement from that bastard if it took me day and night for the next year.”

  “My involvement with James had nothing to do with my inheritance.” Well, perhaps it did in the beginning, but everything had changed. Astra just wished it had been for the better. “I love him, Wesley.”

  She almost swore Wesley’s eyes filled with tears at the broken quality in her voice.

  Wesley cupped her chin. “You think you love him because you are kind and too pure of heart to understand the kind of man James Keane represents.”

  Astra grabbed Wesley’s wrist, uncomfortable with his forwardness. “I’m not pure of heart. You of all people should know that. Look what I did to Lowell.” She yanked her chin from his grasp. He easily let her go, obviously shaken by her words. They had never discussed out loud what lay underneath her relationship to her late husband.

  “You were kind to him. The only thing that made his life worth living.” Wesley didn’t look at her as he spoke.

  “But he deserved better.” Astra choked out her words. As painful as they were, she was glad to say them to someone who had been witness to it. “We were not a love match.”

  “I know. I always knew.” Wesley shook his head, then glanced at her briefly before he turned away again, staring into the cemetery away from the church. “But these things are not always as even as they should be. He was happy and he was glad to come to your aid. He never expected to live to adulthood and told me that rescuing you gave him something of which to be proud. Gave his short life purpose.” Wesley paused heavily. “Don’t destroy his good deed.”

  Astra shook her head. “Did you not hear the rumors? They are true. Worse than the truth. James and I were caught together in his bedroom. We have been having an affair almost since his arrival.”

  “Don’t. You do not have to explain yourself. You did what you had to do to keep from being thrown out on the streets.” He gripped her shoulders tightly, almost painfully.

  Astra took a step back, forcing him to release her. Wesley would find an excuse for anything she told him. “None of that matters because I do love him. And he might not love me now but I will spend the rest of my life trying to ensure that he will eventually.” For some reason, the idea gave Astra strength.

  “I wish I did not have to tell you this, but you leave me no choice.” Wes
ley lowered his head. “James has been having carnal relations with one of the upstairs maids.”

  Astra found it hard to take a full breath. Wesley’s words shocked her more than if she had been oblivious of James’s encounter with Melva, smacking her hard with what she had so easily forgotten. Thankfully, Astra caught herself before claiming that was only in the past. Wesley would be horrified to learn Astra already knew of James’s philandering.

  “I’m sure—” Astra stopped herself again. She could not even claim Wesley was mistaken for fear of what he might reveal.

  He grabbed her hands, preventing her from further retreat. “Come away with me. Right now.”

  She tried to pull back her hands, but he held her tight. “I would never leave Lark.”

  “We’ll take her with us, of course.” He kissed their joined hands.

  “I’m marrying James.” And despite everything, she wanted that more than she had ever wanted anything in her life. She yanked her hands away with renewed force and Wesley released her. “I must go.” She was not sure how much time had passed but she feared she was on the verge of being late to what could be the best or worst day of her life.

  If she wanted the best, she would have to believe in James. He claimed he wanted to believe in her. He wanted them to be happy together. Well, if she could trust him, perhaps he could learn to trust her as well.

  She gathered the hem of her silk lavender gown and turned to head back to the church.

  “I’m leaving England, Astra. I wish you would come with me, but I can no longer stay here considering the circumstances.” Wesley stayed rooted by the tree.

  Astra paused. “Please, Wesley, do not leave because of me.”

  He shook his head. “The situation is intolerable. If I could bear to see you two together, that would be one thing, but I won’t stand by while he abuses the staff. Melva has an ailing mother to support, and sisters who depend upon her. She is desperate to keep her position.”

  “Stop. I cannot hear this right now. I have to go. I wish you would not leave. Wait until after the wedding.” She turned, not waiting for his answer.

  He called after her, but Astra hurried across the grass. She rounded the hedge that had blocked them from view. Wesley came up behind her and grabbed her arm, then froze as solidly as she.

  From the other side of the lawn, James stared straight at them. He stood in the church’s long cobbled drive, dressed in one of his new velvet coats in a rich azure hue that no doubt brought out his eyes. In fact, she could see the intensity of the blue in his narrowed gaze even from the great distance.

  So, that was that. Today would be the worst day of her life.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Fierce sunlight pierced James’s tightly sealed eyelids. But what woke him was insistent shaking that rattled his brain inside his skull.

  “Up with you, my lord. Here now, let’s get your head out of that.”

  Though Mr. Rudd gentled his usually harsh voice, his words worked as a chisel against James’s pounding head. He mumbled something unintelligible that even he didn’t understand.

  The ache in James’s neck came from the angle of his head he suddenly realized. Awareness returned enough to help Mr. Rudd drag him off the floor and away from a chamber pot he had mistaken for a pillow.

  “If you don’t mind me saying so lad, this is no way to spend your wedding night.”

  James let Rudd ease him onto the bed so he could remove his boots. For once, James was grateful to have a well-trained valet. Mr. Rudd continued to undress him, disturbing the ghastly stench that clung to his clothes. The mixture of stale cigar smoke, scotch whiskey and his own vomit turned James’s stomach. God help him. He was dying.

  He closed his eyes and memories flooded back, assuring him that he was, unfortunately, still very much alive.

  That he was quite drunk already when he’d left the church to search for Astra probably had been for the best. Otherwise he would have no doubt sprinted across the field and punched Wesley in his fine-boned aristocratic nose. Instead, James had calmly turned and returned to the church, waited at the altar, too numb to care if Astra actually walked down the aisle or not. Let her dig her own grave, whichever choice that might have been.

  “Mr. Hutton’s waiting for you downstairs, my lord. Said you two had an appointment to see some tenants.”

  James abruptly bolted to a sitting position which was a huge mistake.

  “Chamber pot!” he choked out. Thanks to Rudd’s sharpened reflexes, James didn’t ruin the expensive carpet.

  Once he recovered enough to sit upright, Rudd handed him a damp cloth with which to wipe his face. “I’ll have a bath sent up, my lord.”

  The cool cloth revived James somewhat. He didn’t remember making an appointment with Wesley, not that he remembered much about anything. Seeing the guilty, shocked look on Astra’s face, Wesley’s hand possessively on her arm, was the last clear thing he could remember. Bits of his wedding flashed in his mind. Astra walking down the aisle. Her bouquet trembling in her grip. Her stiffness when he took her into his arms after Fitzgerald pronounced them man and wife. And that was about as far as his recollection served him. He was almost positive—something last night’s full attire attested to—that he had not consummated his marriage.

  James stood on unsteady legs. “I don’t have time for a bath. If Hutton thinks he’s man enough to meet with me the day after my wedding, then meet we shall. Help me get dressed, would you?”

  Mr. Rudd merely shook his head. He set a basin of water and a bar of soap on the bedside table. “At least bathe. You reek. You’re a disgrace to my reputation as a manservant.”

  James did as instructed, grateful that Rudd did not try to help. Though the assistance would have probably been helpful, James liked to think he had a bit of his pride left.

  “Where did you get the black eye?” James asked, noticing bruising below Rudd’s left eye.

  Mr. Rudd glanced over his shoulder where he laid out fresh clothes for James. “Made the mistake of trying to undress you before we tossed you into bed last night. You should apologize to the footman with the split lip.”

  “I’m sorry. I wasn’t myself yesterday.” James examined his scuffed and swollen knuckles. As if he didn’t already feel like an ass, he’d assaulted the staff.

  “Weddings are hard on the grooms. Nothing to be sorry about. Keeps me on my toes.” Mr. Rudd brushed a coat he’d placed on a hanger.

  Once James endured the grueling process of getting properly groomed, he thought he actually might be able to ride a horse without slipping off. Not that he was sure it would come to that. Perhaps he had made an appointment with Wesley Hutton to visit the tenants, but James would wager the weasel had more on his agenda than business.

  “Lad, you’re getting yourself worked up again. You need to relax so I can fix your neck cloth how you like it.” Mr. Rudd undid the knot and tried again. James resisted the urge to snap since the elixir of bitters and rum his valet had provided miraculously stopped James’s head from pounding.”

  James unballed his fists and rolled his shoulders to relax the tension in his neck. He would not act like a madman but as Wesley’s employer and Astra’s husband. No matter what had gone on between those two behind that tree, Astra had walked down that aisle and said her vows. Not that clearly however. James suddenly recalled her voice breaking on a few of the words.

  “Have you ever been married, Rudd?”

  “Afraid so.”

  “What happened?”

  “She left me and can’t say I blame her. Don’t you worry about that, lad. Lady Keane is made of stronger stuff. Got yourself a good one in that lass. She’ll stand by your side through thick and thin.”

  Rudd stepped back and looked at his handy work. “Good as new.”

  James glanced over Rudd’s head and had to look twice to make sure the haggard, puffy-eyed stranger staring back at him was indeed himself. God, he looked a wreck.

  “Thank you, Mr. Rudd. I ow
e you.”

  “All in a day’s work. Glad to earn my keep. I’ll be up for another round of sparring this evening, but we’ll have to find a different footman. Daniel has asked to be transferred to the stable.”

  “No need. I plan to let my wife help me undress tonight.” James swung open the door, his false bravado fading at the sight of Lark curled up in the hallway. What a fool he had been to insist that she attend the ceremony. He had somehow thought having Astra’s daughter be part of the debacle would sanctify their unholy alliance. Not only force Astra to see what her manipulations had wrought, but show James as the better person, ready to take on a wife he didn’t want and a child who needed a father. Looking into Lark’s pale face, he acknowledged that he had also hoped to punish Astra. Though, he had convinced himself it would be fun for Lark and she would not notice the misery of the bride and groom. If anything good came out of his marriage, it would be his vow to do everything in his power to spare this little girl anymore pain.

  “Lark,” he knelt before her, guilt gripping his gut. “Where is your mother?” God help him if he’d frightened Astra or his new daughter with his drunken antics last night.

  Lark slowly sat up, rubbing her eyes. She was dressed in a different gown than the frilly one they had stuffed her in for the wedding, so he hoped that meant she had not been in front of his door all night.

  “You’re sick. Are you going to die?”

  “No, why would you think that?”

  “You are my father now and spriggans don’t want me to have a father.”

  James relaxed a bit. Her imaginary trolls again. “I’m not afraid of the spriggans.”

  “Will you fight a duel with one?”

  A grin struggled to overcome his miserable mood. “If I have to. Do you think it will be necessary?”

  She nodded enthusiastically, shaking the multitude of ribbons wound through her blond hair. “I think that might be the only thing that will work. My mama is sick, too. They don’t want me to have a baby brother.”

  James paused to consider what Lark might have overheard from the staff. No doubt the entire household knew he and Astra had slept in separate bedrooms on their wedding night.