Gavin's lips touched hers and her eyes drifted shut, intoxicated by the heady nearness of him. She felt her hands lift and then fall as they settled naturally on his shoulders. His kiss was brief, no more than a brush of his lips against hers, but he left her breathless.
"Come home with me," he whispered, caressing her cheek with his fingertips. "Let me make love to you, my elusive Ellen."
For a moment she did not react. Make love. She knew what he meant, though what Waldron had tried to do to her so many times could not possibly have had anything to do with love. But that was what Richard called the sexual act between a man and a woman. That was what he said he could never do. He could never make love to her.
Ellen's eyes flew open. "Mary, come up! Let go of me!" She was suddenly indignant. Gavin thought her a whore! Of course. So did everyone else. Common actress and whore. It was all part of the role she portrayed; it was what protected her. It was what she and Richard wanted people to think. But for some reason, it hurt to think that Gavin believed she sold her body.
"I have to go. I'll be late." She pushed his arms down so that he was no longer touching her.
"I'll pay you if that's what you want. Handsomely."
She whirled around and hurried for the door, fighting tears of anger and heartfelt injury. She had never before cared about others thinking her a whore. Suddenly, though, she had come to the realization of what it really meant. There was a price for everything, wasn't there? And this was the price she paid for her freedom.
Gavin watched her for a moment, his arms crossed over his chest. "I've offended you. I'm sorry. It's just that—"
"Just that I'm an actress. I'm another man's mistress. I must be a whore." She tried to snatch her cloak off the peg on the wall, but the material caught and refused to come free. She gave it another tug.
"I . . . I know you're kept," Gavin said, coming to her, obviously puzzled. "You said that much yourself. I just assumed that you were for hire for a price. Most kept women are." He didn't say it in an accusatory way, but rather stated a fact they both knew to be true. He reached above her head and freed her cloak.
Ellen turned around, almost bumping into him. "Well, you assumed incorrectly. Now if I may beg your leave, sir . . ."
"Whoa, whoa there." He caught her by the shoulders and peered into her face. Her cheeks were flushed, her mouth drawn taut in anger. "I apologize for my error."
"Yes, Richard is my protector, but it's not what you think. I'm not his trollop!"
Ellen didn't know what had made her say it. She knew she was never to even hint to anyone that Richard was anything but a man who kept a mistress, or that she was anything but a refined whore.
Gavin gripped her shoulders, refusing to set her free. "Life's like that, isn't it? It's never what it appears to be."
She looked down at the sanded floorboards, embarrassed by her behavior. She liked this man. She liked him a lot. And she was scared. "I really do have to go," Ellen said softly. She looked up to meet his gaze. "But I enjoyed myself, and I thank you for the evening and for your kindness."
He returned her smile. "Can I see you again?"
"Again?"
"No questions. No indecent propositions unless they come from you. You name the time and the place."
She searched his handsome face for understanding. "Why? I belong to another man. That cannot change."
"I don't know why." He caught a lock of hair that rested on her shoulder and fingered it lightly. "There's something about you that draws me. I can't sleep for thought of you. I can't attend to my business for wondering what you're doing, what you're thinking . . . who the man is that holds you in his arms at night."
"Isn't this the sort of thing men say to women when they want to seduce them?"
"Some men, I'm sure. But me? No. I'll not say I don't want to lie with you, Ellen, because I do. God knows, any man would want to." His gaze met hers in an act of sincerity. "But I'd be happy if you'd be my companion on occasion . . . at least for now."
Ellen knew she had to say no. She had no business becoming involved with a man. And she couldn't hurt Richard. He loved her so. Besides, what did she know of Gavin Merrick except that he had sailed the world and owned a tobacco plantation in the Maryland Colony? To see him again just wouldn't make any sense.
But Gavin had said he wouldn't be in London long. He had mentioned that he was looking for someone and that he was waiting on a land grant from the king. But then he would be returning to the colonies. He'd never be coming back. What harm could there be in taking supper with him a few more times?
"Richard cannot know."
Gavin lifted a palm solemnly. "Discretion is one of my finer points."
"And you can't keep coming to the theater. One of Richard's friends will see us."
"Send me a message when you can make it. I'm staying at the Tres Fleurs in Covent Garden."
She dropped her cloak over her arm. "Gavin," she said gently, "I really must go."
Reluctantly, he stepped back. "When will I see you again?"
She shook her head. "I don't know."
"A day from now? A month?"
"Somewhere between the two, I should think."
He opened the door for her. "I'll get you a hackney."
"I'll have the innkeeper get me one." She hung in the doorway, not really wanting to say goodbye. "I really did have a good evening."
"Only because you won more hands at cards."
She laughed. "Good night, Gavin." She knew he wanted to kiss her again, at least as badly as she wanted to be kissed. She turned away and hurried down the hall before one of them lost their willpower.
Gavin stood in the doorway of the private room long after Ellen's footsteps had died away. Another man's woman? This wasn't like him. He had no desire to cuckold anyone. But after one evening with Ellen, he just couldn't turn away. She was delightful. She was intelligent and intuitive, with a sharp, subtle sense of humor. She was unlike any woman he had ever met.
So what if she was this Richard Chambray's mistress? Gavin fought a pang of jealousy. He had never taken a woman into keeping, so it was better if she stayed with her man, anyway. He merely wanted to borrow her, just for a few precious hours.
Gavin stepped back into the private room and tipped his glass, finishing the last of the white Rhenish. He reached for his coat and shrugged it on. He would go downstairs and pay the innkeeper, then he thought he might ride past the Duke of Hunt's home and stop in, just to see if he'd yet returned.
Chapter Five
Gavin leaped into the coach, a fistful of wildflowers in one hand and two bottles of ale in the other. Ellen smiled as he comically offered her first the dusty green bottles, as if in error, and then the bouquet.
The coachman closed the door behind his master and the vehicle rolled westward down Piccadilly Street. Gavin had picked Ellen up at the theater after rehearsal and he was taking her on an outing, though where she didn't know. It was a surprise, he promised her, like a young boy not yet willing to pass out yuletide gifts. After several stops at the market and at a cookshop, they were finally on their way.
Nearly a month had passed since Ellen had met Gavin that night in the Six Pence, and since that time they had enjoyed each other's company as often as could be managed without Richard suspecting something was amiss. Sometimes Gavin took her to some public event like a bearbaiting or a puppet show, or to watch the changing of the guard at the palace. Once they'd even gone to see the king and Buckingham playing croquet in Spring Garden.
At first she had thought it too risky to go out in public. But Gavin had convinced her that dressed in a vizard and a mask, she could walk at his side without fear of being recognized by one of Richard's friends.
Though it was exciting to be out in public and see the sights she had missed the first twenty-odd years of her life, Ellen's favorite times were those spent alone with Gavin. Usually she just met him at a tavern, but twice she had been bold enough to have him to the apartments she and R
ichard shared. Alone, without the distractions of crowd or entertainment, the two could while away the hours talking. Ellen hoped today would be one of those private times.
The longer she knew Gavin, the more she liked him. In fact, Ellen liked him so much that she feared she was falling in love with him. He was quite unlike Richard, and her feelings for the two men were decidedly different. Against her will, she found herself constantly comparing them.
While Richard tended to be thoughtful and pondering, Gavin could talk for hours on any subject. He had a sense of humor that kept her laughing, but he could become serious in a moment's time. Richard was a content man who was happy to simply be alive, whereas Gavin was a passionate man, unwilling to accept the merely acceptable in any situation. He expected the best from himself and the same for those around him. While Richard was gentle in word and deed, Gavin could be caustic at times, but he always truly believed in what he spoke of.
Gavin had kept his promise not to inquire of Ellen's past, but the longer she knew him, the more fearful she became that she might inadvertently reveal some tidbit of information that would make him begin to probe again.
To play it safe and hopefully stifle his curiosity, Ellen had provided him with some information about her life before she came to London. She tried not to alter her true past any more than necessary, while completely leaving out the Earl of Waxton and the years she had spent as his wife. Ellen told Gavin about her father and the lonely but content years she had spent growing up. She talked of her father's political errors and the eventual loss of his lands and his subsequent suicide. She explained that she had lived with a maiden aunt until the woman died and it was then, penniless and desperate, she explained, that she had come to London and became an actress.
"So where are you taking me?" Ellen asked, eyeing a large hamper on the floor beneath the seat, which he had picked up at the cookshop. "And what's in there?"
"I told you, it's a secret."
She glanced out the window. "Out of the City? Are you kidnapping me, sir?"
Tossing his coat onto the seat beside him, Gavin stretched out his long legs and folded his arms over his chest. "I have to admit the thought has crossed my mind. I care more about this business of sharing you than I thought I would. I've never been a man to sneak about the shadows."
She looked away. "I thought you understood. I can't hurt Richard. He's done too much for me." She had pretty much left the story of how she and Richard had gotten together the way it was. Of course, she had left out the fact that Richard was a eunuch, so he and Ellen were not truly mistress and keeper in the way that everyone assumed.
Gavin nodded, not wanting to quarrel unnecessarily. His time with Ellen had become too precious. Besides, in a way, he found her loyalty to Richard Chambray very admirable. Just the same, he felt his jealousy growing thicker beneath his skin with each passing day. He wanted to possess Ellen, and not just her body but her heart, the way that Richard possessed her.
Gavin glanced up at Ellen after a few minutes of silence, which found them both staring out the window at the countryside as they left the City. Rolling green hills stretched out on both sides of the roadway, their symmetry broken up only by the dot of cottages on the horizon. "I received word that my land grant may well be approved shortly."
She smiled, thankful he had changed the subject. "That's wonderful!" But then her smile fell, her disappointment obvious in the tone of her voice. "But that means you'll be leaving soon."
He shook his head. "I think, perhaps, I'll wait until spring. I'm not too anxious to make a winter Atlantic crossing, and besides, I've still business here in London. I've not been terribly successful in my search."
After a moment she asked softly, "Why won't you tell me who it is you look for? Who is she? A lover who jaded you? A wife who's run off with your fortune?"
He chuckled. "I told you, my family lost their wealth in the wars. And as for this person I seek, who she is isn't important."
Gavin had decided that he would not reveal to any more people than necessary who it was he sought, for fear the Lady Waxton would catch wind of it and flee. Besides, he was not completely comfortable with this terrible urge for revenge that burned in him. He had no desire to reveal such a dark side of himself to a woman who brought bright shining light into his life. He feared she just wouldn't understand. "Who she is or what she's done matters not. But I can assure you, I have no feeling for her but hatred."
"So what will you do with her once you find her?"
"Just see a wrong righted."
Ellen nodded. Despite her curiosity about this woman, she knew that Gavin honored her right to her own privacy and so she must honor his.
For the next hour the coach rumbled along the rutted road, and Ellen and Gavin talked. They discussed the present politics between France and England, and the king's sister who was married to Philippe, Due d'Orleans, King Louis's brother. Gavin seemed surprised that Ellen knew so much about a subject supposedly of interest only to men, but then he was reminded that there was much about her that surprised him.
In some ways, Ellen seemed so naive, so sheltered from the world, yet at other times her understanding of mankind was as clear as the waters of the Jamaican Islands. Unlike most women he had encountered, she was hungry for knowledge. Every subject seemed to interest her, from astronomy to anatomy. She wanted to know the whys and wherefores of everything, and she was a superior student. Her memory amazed Gavin, for once she had heard, seen, or read something, she never forgot it. He assumed this ability came from her training on the stage. After all, as often as the play was changed at the theater and her part changed, she had to have a good memory to know all her lines.
The coach finally came to a halt, and when Gavin helped Ellen down, she have a sigh of delight, spinning on her toes. They had stopped at the foothills of a small town along the Thames. Here the open field of grass that ran along the river's edge was a brilliant green, speckled with the yellow flowers of late summer. There was not a soul to be seen save for a young girl far in the distance, tending to her family's small flock of sheep.
Gavin flipped the coachman a coin, and the servant started off toward the little town and the nearest tavern, no doubt. Then Gavin and Ellen were alone. He spread out a blanket down near the water and began to unpack the hamper. It was apparently filled to the brim with various delicacies.
"A picnic!" Ellen dropped down on the blanket beside him in delight. "I've never been on picnic, but I've read about them!"
"Never been on a picnic!" Gavin set out a loaf of fresh bread and two wheels of cheese. "What a crime against nature to have reached your tender age and never been on a picnic."
She picked at a bit of crust on the bread. "I told you my father was stern and never one for frivolity."
Gavin lifted an eyebrow. "Picnicking, a frivolity. Certainly not. I'd, in fact, consider it a necessity of life. One of those experiences that makes a man," his green eyes twinkled, " . . . or a woman whole."
All too quickly the afternoon in the warm sun passed, and soon it was time to make the trek back into London.
"We could stay the night in a tavern and return in the morning," Gavin suggested as Ellen put the remnants of the picnic into the straw hamper.
"You know I can't do that, Gavin. Richard will be home this evening and I have to be there."
Gavin knelt on the blanket in front of her. "I don't know that I can stand this much longer, you being in his arms when I want you in mine." He lifted his finger. "I've kept my word, Ellen. I've not laid a hand upon you, but my constitution is wearing thin."
She kept her eyes averted. "Just companions, you said . . . I agreed to meet you only to talk, only to share your company."
He pressed his hands to his muscular thighs and leaned toward her, forcing her to meet his gaze. "It's not enough." Slowly, he reached out to caress her cheek with the tip of his finger. "And I think you feel the same. You're just not willing to admit it."
She tried to tear awa
y from his gaze but he caught her chin with his hand. "Tell me you don't feel the same, Ellen, and I'll not pursue this. Just tell me the truth, love."
Tears filled her eyes. She couldn't lie, not to Gavin. Not about this. Too much of her life was a lie. "Yes," she whispered, almost fearful of her own voice. "I want you." She couldn't tell him how hard this was for her, how she had never wanted a man in this sense. He thought her wanton. He thought her experienced. She had to play the part. "I want you, Gavin Merrick, but I belong to another man."
"Leave Richard and come live with me. Tell me what he pays you. What he provides. I'll match it. I'll better him. Just tell me what you want, Ellen."
She caressed his hand that still held her chin. "It's not that simple."
"Make it that simple."
She shook her head. "There are things you don't understand. Things you don't know . . . that you can't know."
Gavin groaned. "Ah, Christ's bones, Ellen." Without thinking, he pulled her across the blanket and into his arms.
As his mouth crushed down on hers, she could do nothing but hold tightly to his shoulders. She was powerless against his strength. She couldn't protest. She didn't want to.
His mouth was wet and hard against hers. But the hurtful pressure of his impatience set aflame sensations deep in the pit of her stomach. She had been kissed, but never like this.
As his tongue touched hers, her breath quickened. A part of her wanted to pull away, but the rest of her wanted to stay here in Gavin's arms beneath the setting sun forever. When his hand came up beneath her busk to caress the swell of one of her breasts, she moaned softly. She could feel her nipples harden beneath the layers of clothing; she could feel her body arch against his, wanting more despite all reason.
When Gavin broke their kiss, her eyelids fluttered open. They were so close that she could feel his warm breath on her numb lips. "Tell me now that you don't want me," he whispered.
Sweet Deception (Hidden Identity) Page 6