by Wilde, Tanya
“Oh dear,” Evelyn said as she jumped from the divan to retrieve the note from the footman. With one smooth action she unfolded the note and examined the contents with a smile.
Belle sent a droll stare Evelyn’s way. “How rude of Grey to summon you whenever he feels you have been away for too long.”
Evelyn’s smile widened. “I do not mind.”
“Why would you?” Jo muttered. “If I had a husband like that at home I would never leave.”
“What does it say?” Belle asked before she snatched the note from Evelyn’s fingers.
“Belle! Give that back, it’s private,” Evelyn admonished while Belle sputtered as she read the missive.
“Well I never! Do you know what he said, Jo?” Belle asked incredulous.
“Obviously not.”
“Get your derriere home now, or I will come fetch you.”
Evelyn snatched the note back. “He believes me up to no good if I am gone too long, especially if I am in the company of my friends.”
Jo gave Evelyn a pointed stare that said: If you assume you can keep any activities secret from your husband, you are delusional. When it came to his wife, Grey’s protectiveness was amplified. The end. He did not tolerate her absence for long before he would go in search of her, almost as though the thought of being parted from his wife was unbearable.
A stab of envy pierced Jo. She had once thought to marry and start her own family, but had seen too much abuse and horridness to desire such fanciful notions. She would prefer not to subject her heart to that sort of pain—and there would be pain. It always followed, whether from sickness or betrayal, death or lies. Gah! Better to pour all her attention into her somewhat dangerous but immensely satisfying projects.
“He cares, and in the grand scheme of things that is all that matters.”
“There is a difference between possession and obsession,” Belle muttered with a dark tone. “Grey borders on obsession.”
“I like his obsession,” Evelyn said, a blush stealing across her face.
“Of course you do. We, on the other hand, are highly skeptical and very suspicious.”
Evelyn chuckled as she gathered her pelisse, clearly intending to obey her husband’s wishes. With a kiss on each of their cheeks, she murmured her goodbyes. The dreamy-eyed expression on her face causing Jo and Belle to glance heavenward.
“I’ll see you ladies later!”
As soon as Evelyn cleared the room Belle stood, her hands on her hips, tapping her right foot in agitation.
“Is something amiss?”
“You cannot be considering including Evelyn in any further projects?”
Jo stretched out with languid arms on the chase. “Do you presume I would risk such a thing when Grey’s never far from her side?”
“She’s now aware there may be a project soon,” Belle pointed out.
Jo waved her friend’s concern aside. “She is so occupied with her husband and newfound happiness she will not be mindful of us when we proceed without her. Have you noted their distraction?”
Belle nodded. “Of course.”
“Have you observed how at every event they disappear for hours on end?”
“Oh, I’ve noticed,” Belle said, her eyes dancing. “They return all doe eyed and walking on air.”
“They are causing quite the scandal,” Jo confirmed. “It is my hope all eyes are on them when I’m off winning our wager.”
Belle chuckled. “I have no doubt you will try. Be that as it may, it is my hope the entertainment you will provide us may occupy her mind.”
“No doubt Craven will reckon me a simpering fool.”
Not to mention her brother would skin Craven’s hide and display it on their front door as fair warning for any man if he learned of this wager. It would not matter whether Craven had been aware or not. He would be a dead man. Jo may not be simpering, but perhaps she was a fool.
“I daresay he would never consider a lady of your stature to be interested in him. That is why your chances of winning are slim.”
Jo snorted. “Yet you gave me lessons.” She was stealing a kiss, not the crown jewels. How hard could it be? It would simply be a matter of perfecting her smolder and keeping everyone occupied as to not suspect her intentions.
Craven may not be the man she would have picked if she had any choice in the matter, but he would do. Jo tried not to dwell on the one man she would have picked or at least considered picking had it been up to her.
“Well, we had to give you some lessons or else you would have failed horribly. At least now you have a chance.”
“I do not know why I ever agreed to be part of such an outrageous wager,” Jo muttered, snatching up a lemon cake.
“The why of it is quite clear. You long for a grand adventure.”
“I have plenty of adventure in my life,” Jo protested, recalling her projects and how they helped the lives of others. Often they were even a bit dangerous, which added more appeal to them.
“That is different. You long to be swept off your feet.”
“This adventure won’t sweep me of my feet. It’s going to sweep the tattered remains of my reputation to a remote village in the country.”
Belle’s laughter filled the room, though it sounded more like an evil cackle than an expression of amusement. “They say the country men are more masculine and hard from all the labor. You may just be lucky to be sent off to the countryside.”
Jo snorted contemptuously. But perhaps Belle had a point. She would receive the information of their new project in a day or so, so she had until then to win the wager and hope some adventure came of it. At the very least it would prove the distraction she wished to get her mind off her brother’s pestering ways and the other pestering males in her life…
Brilliant.
Chapter 2
“This is insanity, Belle. I cannot do it, I simply cannot.”
They stood beneath a large fern overlooking the ballroom of their hosts, Lady Evelyn and her husband, the Earl of Grey. Evelyn, however, had disappeared along with her husband, which made Jo suspect they weren’t tending to their duties as hosts but rather other pleasantries. The event had turned out quite the crush, despite the fact that the season was nearing its end. Everyone still appeared to be equally enthralled and scandalized by the match the two newlyweds made. Love never seemed sweeter than the couple who, so engrossed with each other, never let their gazes stray far nor their hands.
“Yes, you can. Now go.”
“No, I cannot.” Jo’s hands began to shake, evidence of her nervousness.
Belle nudged Jo forward a step. “Enough dillydallying. Remember what I told you and you’ll be fine.”
Jo stared wide-eyed at her friend. He would never fall for her act. Why should he pay her any heed? Surely someone the likes of Craven would not be the sort to pay attention to whispering hearsay, no matter how intriguing the rumors. As a notorious rake, he would see straight through her ploy. Since up till this night she had never done anything this outrageous to gain the attention of a man, she was bound to slip up somehow.
Jo cast a nervous glance at the man in question. Oh, bollocks. She should be regarding this wager as an adventure, but if their hostess proved an example Jo may end up leg-shackled before the count of three. Craven would not make for an exemplary husband; at least not from what she believed.
So, do not get caught.
If only Belle would tell her what rumor they’d had their good friend Lord Weatherly whisper into Craven’s ear, but she refused to say a word on the matter. According to Belle, her lack of knowledge enhanced the cloak of mystery and intrigue surrounding her. They may have a point.
“Would you just go?”
Jo’s head bounced up and down, and with one last nervous glance toward her friend, she started forward at a pace that would put a snail to shame. More than anything, she wanted to be like her friends: beautiful, admired and, like Evelyn, seduced. But now, as her feet led her to potential ruin, it se
emed all rather ridiculous. Regardless, tonight she would initiate the seduction of a kiss. All she had to do was attract his notice, make him aware of her.
“Mystery and intrigue,” she muttered beneath her breath as she made her way through an elegant drawing room filled with the crème de la crème of London society. Jo schooled her expression just as Belle had taught her, gliding with slow and deliberate movements, swaying her hips in a manner she hoped appeared provocative.
This is madness. Madness!
Her thoughts were dulled by the drumming of her heart. No doubt her heart sensed there would be no turning back, and Jo found, in that moment, she did not wish to. Already excitement bubbled up inside her, thoughts of seducing a kiss from a notorious rake filling her with anticipation. Her earlier nervousness evaporated with the sway of each hip.
Adorned in one of Madam De La Frey’s glittering low-cut gowns, she was guaranteed to draw the attention of most gentlemen in the drawing room, although her brother’s dark scowl succeeded in keeping them at a distance.
Jo knew exactly what the men saw when they stared at her. Black silk covered her body, giving her a dramatic, almost exotic appearance. Her dark hair had been braided loosely around her head to expertly bring out the green of her eyes. Cat eyes, as her mother used to say. The bodice was close-fitted, drawing attention to her abundant charms while the skirt hugged her hips seductively, flowing into a glittering swirl of material that pooled at her feet.
She’d been skeptical when the Madam had suggested black as the color for this particular night, but when the dress arrived earlier that day, Jo had known it would be unparalleled.
A gown befitting a seductress.
The old Jo will be no more.
It also hadn’t escaped her notice that black was the opposite of white, which reflected purity. Black on the other hand, reflected the color of sin and wickedness. A truth confirmed when her brother almost had an attack of the vapors when he saw her outfit. Jo even had half a mind to retrieve her smelling salts when she noted his expression. Clever as always, Jo had covered her dress with a cloak and by the time her brother had glimpsed her gown it had been too late. It hadn’t stopped him, however, from ordering her back home, even though he’d been skillfully outmaneuvered. Precious time had been wasted to dispel him of any such notion and while he may have relented he still continued to glare and growl at any man who wandered within ten feet of her.
A glance in his direction revealed Belle’s cousins—the ebullient Poppy and Willow—making their way toward her brother. Holly was nowhere to be seen.
Jo spotted Lady Madeleine, wife to their friend Lord Weatherly, and made her way toward the beautiful woman, placing Craven directly in her line of vision.
“Lady Josephine! How delightful to see you,” Lady Madeleine greeted with a warm smile once Jo reached her.
“Lady Madeleine, you look positively glowing. Dare I say it is Wes that has put that the sparkle in your eye?”
Lady Madeleine blushed and Jo’s lyrical laughter filled the air. “How has your father taken the news of your elopement?”
“Oh, he has disowned me,” Madeleine said with a bright smile, causing Jo to chuckle. “I’ve often wondered, Lady Josephine, how you became such good friends with my husband?” Madeleine asked, the curiosity in her tone unmistakable.
Jo raised a brow, surprised by the question. “He’s never told you?”
Lady Madeleine shook her head.
“He’s probably too embarrassed to say,” Jo teased.
“I take it you will not entertain me with the details either?”
“Oh no,” Jo said raising her hands in the air, “and deprive Wes of regaling you with the tale himself? I would never be so heartless.”
“I guess I will just have to find a way to retrieve the information from him,” Madeleine said on a whimsical note.
Holly, the third and youngest of Belle’s cousins, appeared so suddenly by their side that Lady Madeleine and Jo all but jumped out of their skins.
“Lady Madeleine, how lovely to meet you at last!” Holly exclaimed with a bounce in her step. “I do apologize for my forwardness but if I waited for my cousin or one of her friends to introduce us,” she gave Jo a pointed stare, “I would wait forever!”
Lady Madeleine’s wide eyes met Jo’s amused ones. If she hadn’t met Belle’s cousins yet, she would get an earful from one of them now. With poor Lady Madeleine’s attention seized, Holly provided the perfect opportunity for Jo to glance in the direction of Craven. Now, for the leading act.
Under the pretense of boredom, Jo angled her body away from the girls, right in the direction of Lord Craven. With slow precision her gaze drifted over the faces in the crowd in what would appear as casual perusal, slipping passed Craven and over to the gentlemen on his right, only to return back to him as she caught his regard.
From across the room their gazes locked, and Jo allowed a hint of surprise to enter her features, just as Belle had tutored her. It wasn’t so hard since he possessed the face of a Greek god, all chiseled jaw and high cheekbones. Handsome in a classical way. She’d been wrong about his hair color, however. Reddish brown hair framed his perfectly carved face, every angle made to enhance his beauty. Eyes as blue as ice gazed back at her and a shiver of apprehension stole over her. Not black then. Even from where she stood all-consuming heat slammed into her. This man possessed the ability to set her aflame and turn her to stone at the same time. His mouth, however, gave pause. A cynical curve lined that luscious mouth, giving the impression of a permanent snarl. No, not a man who suffered fools gladly.
Jo had half a mind to retreat, but her inner voice mocked: Are you afraid of a mere man?
Well, no, but he did seem all too powerful and not a man to be trifled with. But foolishness won out and she dropped her gaze to his chest, letting it slide over his broad shoulders, which bespoke of great strength. Beneath all those clothes, his chest would be as hard as a boulder. He would have strong arms, too, perfect to carry a damsel, she mused.
Her smoldering gaze dipped even lower, devouring his long muscled legs until they disappeared into his perfectly polished hessian boots, before it made its way back up to his chest again, a slight upturn of her mouth now planted on her face. Those strong legs would carry a damsel up any flight of stairs without so much as a hint of strain.
After her thorough perusal of his body, Jo allowed her gaze to lock with his once more for a brief moment before she turned away, affectively dismissing him from her mind. Or at least she hoped that was the impression she presented. Those blue eyes had turned predatory with her last glance, and they would haunt her sleep tonight.
Too enlivened to follow Holly and Madeleine’s prattle about a poor match some lady made, Jo only listened with mild interest. Her brain mulled over whether her smolder had actually looked like a smolder and not like she was in pain. Soon enough she would learn whether she’d caught his interest or not. How embarrassing it would be if she could not manage to catch the attention of a renowned libertine.
“I find it damned disturbing how the three of you seem to excel at causing trouble,” Wes drawled as he came up behind Belle.
“It keeps us young,” Belle returned.
He chuckled, his eyes darting to his wife. “True,” he acknowledged. “So long as you do not embroil Madeleine in any of your mad schemes, I will play along.”
“You have never complained before.”
“You have never included my wife before.”
“You never had a wife before,” Belle shot back.
“Again, true, but I would rather not have Maddy run about London in the dead of night saving lost souls.”
Belle nodded in understanding, noting how her friend’s attention turned to Craven.
“You’ve outdone yourself this time, Lady Belle,” Wes noted. “But Craven is not a man to be taken lightly and not a man to be toyed with.”
“Well then, it’s a good thing she only means to entice a kiss.”
> Surprise lit his brow. “You believe Craven would stop at one kiss?”
Belle frowned. “Jo can manage Craven.”
“Have you thought of how St. Aldwyn would react to this new adventure of hers?”
“What does St. Aldwyn have to do with anything?” A curious note had rolled off Wes’s voice, but nothing that spoke of an ulterior motive, Belle decided.
His brow almost reached his hairline when he spoke, “Even you cannot be so obtuse.” He nodded in the direction of St. Aldwyn. “He hardly ever takes his eyes off Josephine. As soon as he learns of her supposed interest in Craven, I imagine the hold on his tight restraints will snap.”
The corners of Belle’s eyes crinkled. How interesting. When Belle and Evelyn had first joined Jo’s projects, Evelyn’s now husband, the Earl of Grey, along with Evelyn’s brother, Westfield, and their good friend St. Aldwyn had become suspicious. Each of the men then decided to spy on one of the women. Westfield had started to appear wherever Belle set out for, whereas St. Aldwyn had trailed Jo. But she never thought anything of it because, like Craven, St. Aldwyn happened to be notorious rake with no intention of settling down. Maybe he’d be interested after all?
“Whatever you are plotting, it is a bad idea.”
“Nonsense Wes,” Belle said, a smile enveloping her face. “My ideas are always brilliant.”
“That my dear, is debatable. I happen to know you well enough to know that once your mind latches onto something, it’s almost impossible for you to let go. Trouble usually follows soon after.”
Belle ignored him. “I cannot believe I did not see it before now.”
“Perhaps a good reason exists for that,” Wes commented, his arms folding over his chest.
“Do you believe he saw the exchange between Jo and Craven?” Belle asked, examining the man in question.
“It’s hard to tell what he observed, he’s frowning in her direction, but I do not think he witnessed her blatant regard of the Earl.”
“How can you possibly know that?”
“For one thing, his face hasn’t turned purple.”