Cavern of Pleasures Boxset: Georgian Regency Romance

by EM BROWN

  “You cannot select a banker that Vale will know. You must be discreet.”

  “You’re right, Charlotte. How fortunate I am to have you as a friend!”

  “I would still counsel you to speak with Vale. I think he has more regard for you than you would believe.”

  “Ha! I mean no disrespect to you, Charlotte, but the only one who condescends to me more than Vale is ‘his lordship’ of the Cavern!”

  Charlotte snapped to attention. “What think you of your master at Madame Botreaux’s?”

  The question surprised Harrietta, for the topic seemed frivolous compared to the predicament they had been discussing.

  “He must think highly enough of you to continue,” Charlotte noted. “He has parted ways with many women before and spent much less time with them than he has with you.”

  Harrietta pondered Charlotte’s words.

  “He must be taken with you,” Charlotte supplied.

  At first, Harrietta felt flattered that that might be the case, but it mattered little. ‘His lordship’ was not the one she wished for. But the man she desired would unlikely to ever be hers. And as much as her body responded to ‘his lordship,’ the potency of the kiss she had shared with Vale dwarfed anything she felt ere now. The surge she had felt in her body, if it had escaped, could have lighted the London sky. What a silly thing she was that she could be so swept away by one mere kiss.

  “And you must enjoy him as well?” Charlotte asked with a wry smile. “For you did see him again after last we spoke?”

  “Aye, and I expect I will continue to do so.”

  Why should I not? she asked herself. Although she had entered her marriage with little expectation, she had become muddled of late, and now at least she had regained her clarity. A love-match was not what her marriage was, and Madame Botreaux’s provided an exciting divertissement to her matrimonial disappointment.

  “I think ’his lordship’ will be surprised by me, if only because he had set his expectations so low,” Harrietta said with a small triumphant smile.

  “And I think you may be surprised by him as well, Hettie. A great deal surprised.”

  AFTER SPEAKING WITH Charlotte, Harrietta devised a plan for repaying her debt to Lady Falconet, but she never had the chance to proffer her idea. Lord Elroy had changed the landscape altogether.

  “You no longer carry a debt to my sister,” Elroy informed her after she had returned to the card room in search of Alexandra. “I have acquired my sister’s loans.”

  At first Harrietta was elated. She was happy that Alexandra was no longer in a precarious financial situation, but then Elroy pulled her to a quiet corner and there was a gleam in his eyes that she had never seen before—not in him, though her memory whispered of a place where she had seen such a gleam. A dark place. And not so long ago.

  “Your debt is now due entirely to me.”

  She had not used her fan all night, but suddenly she felt the need to hide behind it. Collecting herself as her hand fluttered her shield to and fro, she inquired, “And what is the sum that I owe?”

  “I believe the total to be no less than two thousand pounds.”

  She paled. She had not realized it would have added to that much, but alas, money had never been her strong suit, having never had much to concern herself with. The allowance she received from Vale was quite a new thing for her.

  “I intend to pay it in full,” she declared, “only I have not that much upon me at the moment.”

  Lovell laughed. “Of course not. I did not expect you to carry such a sum, but have you no accounts where such money has been saved?”

  “I am only recently married and mine own family has very little.”

  “Perhaps your husband could be pressed upon—”

  “No! Do not speak of it to Vale. This is my responsibility.”

  Lovell nodded, then leaned in toward her close enough for her to feel his breath. She wondered that he dared such intimacy in such a public place as the card room.

  “There is one condition under which I would consider wiping off the debts,” he propositioned.

  She felt her pulse quicken. Did she want to learn what that condition might be? Of course she did, and yet there was something in his tone that made her wary of what he might say next.

  “You have, my dear Marchioness, certain proclivities that interest me.”

  Harrietta smiled as if they were having a casual tete-a-tete should anyone glance in their direction and wonder what would preoccupy the two of them in quiet conversation.

  “Proclivities?” she echoed.

  “Yes. You see, I, too, am a patron of Madame Botreaux’s.”

  Her heart stopped. Her fan stopped. She blinked, then began fanning herself with greater speed and force. Her voice nearly cracked when she spoke.

  “Madame whom?”

  One corner of Lovell’s mouth curled, and he stared into her eyes with such penetration that she knew it would do no good to pretend falsehoods with him.

  “Come, come,” he said, “you need not be ashamed. It is a fine establishment. I have been a patron of hers for many years.”

  She felt a little relieved, except...

  “And this condition you speak of?”

  “Ah, yes. You are quick to the point. I like that about you, Hettie.”

  She started at the familiar use of her name. Though Alexandra had called her by that, Lovell had, until now, been most proper with her.

  “I would be willing to erase all two thousand pounds that you owe me if you gave yourself wholly to me for a sennight.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  COULD HE HAVE BEEN mistaken about the kiss? Vale wondered as he glanced at his wife, seated as far from him in the carriage as possible and absorbed in thought. He had been convinced that she had returned his kiss, but she had been distant from him the rest of the evening. Had he offended her? Repulsed her? Studying her furrowed brows, he would have given a grand sum to know what thoughts occupied her at present.

  “How fare your feet?” he asked her. “We ought procure for you a pair of shoes that would be less villainous upon your feet.”

  That perked her interest.

  “Yes,” she responded. “And I—I had thought a new bonnet perhaps for riding. I saw a divine style in The Ladies Magazine. And I should like to surprise my mama and my sisters with new bonnets as well when they come to visit. And...well, I should like a larger sum for my allowance.”

  He noticed she was fingering her fan nervously.

  “But of course. How much more should you desire?”

  “Two thousand pounds.”

  He raised a brow.

  “That would buy more than bonnets, my dear.”

  “Well, entertaining myself has been more expensive than I thought. I do love to play cards, and I should loathe to borrow from mine friends.”

  She lowered her eyes, and he could not read her expression. Only sensed that something was amiss. He had had his share of mistresses who cost a pretty penny in the baubles they desired, the houses they kept, and the gowns they wore but a few times before they determined they had to have a more current fashion. Harrietta had never struck him as one of those women.

  “There is naught I can deny my wife,” he said. “I will pay whatever bills you desire and increase your allowance by two hundred pounds that you may amuse yourself at cards.”

  He gathered she was not entirely happy with his response, but she smiled and thanked him for his generosity. When they arrived at their home, Harrietta wished him a swift good night and could not whisk herself up the stairs to her boudoir fast enough.

  “Harrietta,” he called when she was halfway up the stairs.

  She turned, reluctantly it seemed.

  “I am quite fatigued by the evening,” she told him before he could speak. “If you require my attention, perhaps it can wait until tomorrow?”

  He looked into her eyes, desperate to unearth what had transpired in her that she should seem a different person
to him.

  “Of course, my dear,” he said. “I bid you a good night.”

  She turned away from him and went up the stairs without a glance back.

  “MY LADY HAD AN AGREEABLE evening at the ball?” Sarah inquired as she assisted the Marchioness with her evening toilette.

  Harrietta managed a wan smile. She had little wish to discuss the particulars, though she could tell that Sarah wished to know.

  “I’ve never seen men and women dressed so extraordinary,” Harrietta relayed.

  “I think there are none that could have looked as striking as my lady or his lordship.”

  The most beauteous pair would have been Aubrey and the Countess D’Alessio, Harrietta thought sadly.

  “And the dinner was beyond anything I had ever attended,” she said to change the subject, listing the delicious soups, the succulent meats, and heavenly sweets.

  She managed enough gaiety during her undress, but when she was finally by herself, Harrietta lay across the covers of her bed, pulled a pillow to her chest, and cried. She had seen the hurt in his eyes before she had turned to ascend the stairs once more. She was glad that she had managed to hurt him in some small way, and yet it broke her heart. Indeed, she loved him too much to want to see him pained.

  But what right had he to feel pain? He had the Countess. Not satisfied apparently with a mistress, he had wanted his wife as well?

  But what right had she to feel angry at him when he had explained his situation before offering his hand? He had offered no illusions of what their marriage was to be.

  And yet she had no wish to make him a cuckold. Not in such a public fashion.

  Not with Lovell Elroy.

  The anonymity of Madame Botreaux’s was as far as she had been willing to go. But spending a sennight with Elroy at his estate in the country...

  Vale would not forgive her.

  But to be revealed to the world that she was a patron of Madame Botreaux’s? That would bring more shame to Vale, surely. She had not thought Elroy capable of such a thing, but the look from his blue eyes—the strange light that shone from them and that made her blood run cold—convinced her that he would.

  What a muddle she had made of her life! Harrietta scolded herself. Vale had been right to warn her not to consort with the Elroys. She wondered now if they had purposefully encouraged her card play, enabling her debts, and set a trap by which they could avenge themselves upon Vale. And she had become their unwitting pawn!

  Harrietta pushed a fist into her pillow. What a dolt she was!

  There had to be a way to escape her predicament. But she had only the shortest of time before Elroy’s carriage would come for her on the morrow.

  GIVEN ALL THE DANCING Harrietta had done and the late hour at which they had returned, Vale was not surprised that his wife had not yet awakened though the hour was approaching noon. He had breakfast by himself, and never had such a meal in solitude felt so lonesome. He missed glancing across the table to see the glimmer in her eyes. Missed hearing the delight in her voice. The room seemed less bright, and even the eggs seemed less flavorful without her presence.

  He read the paper with half a mind, then retired to his study. How many times had he approached her door and reached for the handle last night? He imagined her sleeping in her bed. Imagined stepping softly toward her. Perhaps he would reach for her, brush a sleeve past her shoulder to caress it. She would stir, a wistful sigh falling from her lips as if in dream. He would sit upon her bed, and lean in to kiss her neck, breathe in the scent of her skin. Would there be trace amounts of perfume left?

  But he had not entered her chambers. How could he after the unfeeling statement she left him with last night? As if naught had transpired between them. As if they had not kissed for the first time as true husband and wife. It had left him rattled. He had never seen her look at him the way she had done last night. Part of him wanted to take the steps separating them and carry her to her chambers, willing or no. To force his attentions upon her and show how her husband, Vale Montressor Aubrey, could make her writhe and gasp in pleasure as much as ‘his lordship’ of Madame Botreaux’s. The gentleman in him had prevailed, and he had watched her back receding into the hallway with a vulnerability he had rarely ever had to experience.

  He considered revealing his identity to her when next she came to visit the Cavern. But would she be horrified? Furious? Would she forgive him his deception? Would he lose her?

  Finding himself too restless to sit any longer, Vale took himself for a walk in the garden. Adia was in a flower bed pulling at the weeds. The little girl looked a world apart from the urchin at the asylum with her hair neatly braided and wound atop her head, a clean smock on her, and real shoes.

  “G’mornin’, yer Grace,” she greeted with a broad smile.

  “Mrs. Stewart has you at gardening?” he asked her, surprised.

  Adia shook her little head. “She says but ‘tis she got no time to be thinkin’ of what fer me to do, so I come to find me own to do. I think I’ll find some flowers for Mistress Hettie an’ surprise her with the new blooms.”

  “I think she should like that very much. And you must find for yourself a flower or two.” He sat down at a nearby bench to watch her.

  “You be very kind, yer Grace. You and Mistress Hettie be like a king and queen from a fairy tale. I think often I must be in a dream and pinch myself often.”

  Vale smiled and plucked a leaf that had fallen onto the sleeve of his coat. Even on a day when he had no place that he had to be, he was dressed to perfection from his polished heels to the broach in his ruffled cravat. He wore a silk robe wrapped at the waist.

  “How does a king choose his queen?” Adia asked.

  Twisting the stem of the leaf between his thumb and forefinger, he contemplated the appropriate answer for Adia.

  “At times, his choice helps form alliances between families or countries,” he explained. “And at times...he listens to the dictates of his heart.”

  “Was that so betwixt you and Mistress Hettie?”

  “Not initially,” Vale confessed. There had been few children in his life save for Harold’s sisters, and he knew not but how to tell the truth with them.

  “But yer fond of her now?”

  “Yes, Adia,” he replied with a softness that surprised himself. “Very much.”

  Adia smiled. “An’ she be fond of you, yer Grace.”

  “I hope.” He cast aside the leaf and prepared to turn the topic to the weather.

  “For sure, yer Grace. I did see her blush as crimson as blood after the flower you gives her.”

  He stared at the girl, but she had turned her attention back to the weeds as if she had not said anything of importance. Was it possible that a child could discern what he could not? He felt hope rising in his breast and was about to ask her more when Charlotte appeared.

  “Oh,” Charlotte let fall upon seeing him.

  “It is a delight to see you as well, cousin,” he said in reply to her obvious disappointment at seeing him.

  “I thought I might find Hettie here,” Charlotte said.

  “She may still be in her chambers, having had a long night at the Granview ball.”

  “Her maidservant said not.”

  “She left,” Adia spoke up. “I saw her with bonnet in hand.”

  Charlotte’s frown fell further.

  “Unaccompanied?” Vale asked.

  Adia nodded.

  Vale turned to Charlotte. “You have some matter of urgency with her?”

  “I—I thought perhaps she would wish to take a stroll about the park with me.”

  “Adia dear, will you tend to the vase of flowers in my study? I believe they are wilting and require fresh water.”

  Adia was happy to be of use and trotted off to do his bidding. When the girl had left, Vale turned the full force of his gaze upon his cousin.

  “You’re a poor liar, Charlotte.”

  She pouted her lips defiantly, but under his hard stare, s
he relented. “You will not be unkind to her, Vale? Promise me? She is young and new to the ways of the city.”

  “Have I been...? Nevermind. I’ve no wish to be anything but kind to Harrietta.”

  Nonetheless, Charlotte did not answer. She wrung her hands in a manner that worried him.

  “Is Harrietta in some trouble?”

  “Yes. Only do not blame her. She meant no harm by it!”

  “Charlotte, out with it,” Vale said, feeling his muscles tense.

  “It is that evil pair! That Alexandra woman and her detestable brother!”

  He paled but waited for Charlotte to continue.

  “Hettie had a run of ill luck at vingt-et-un, and they took advantage of her under the guise of friendship. They loaned her an exorbitant amount for which they now wish to collect upon.”

  He instantly recalled Harrietta’s request for a larger allowance.

  “I wish she had come to me with the matter.”

  “I did press upon her to do such a thing, but she felt too ashamed.”

  “How much is owed the Elroys?” he asked, though he suspected the amount.

  “I thought it to be a thousand pounds, but...I received today a letter...”

  Vale took the parchment she held out to him and scanned the contents.

  My dearest Charlotte,

  I am undone! Lord Elroy has secured the amount I owe his sister. My debt, in the grand sum of two thousand pounds, lies entirely in his hands and he would have me pay it in full or reveal me as a patron of M.B.

  What a fool I have been! If I had only listened to Vale. But I have been stubborn and must now meet my Fate.

  I have no wish to burden you, my dear friend, but either I will find the sum due to Lord Elroy or his proposition to me last night, if I am unable to settle the debt, is to spend a sennight at his estate. I am shamed no matter what I do.

  I write only to tell you that I would not blame you or Vale if you should disdain me and cast me forever from your bosom. I never meant to bring shame upon my family or my friends, but I will have done it, mayhap by the time you read this letter. All this I write to you in confidence, dear Charlotte.