“Caw, he’s going to fall in love with you tonight, and what a fine Christmas present that would be.”
She wasn’t quite certain how to respond to Hester’s declaration, hoped her increasing feelings for Benedict weren’t written all over her face. Perhaps the he she was referring to wasn’t even Benedict. “I’m certain I have no notion as to what you’re talking about.”
Hester laughed, a light tinkling. “I’m certain you do.”
Althea gave the perfect imitation of a haughty duchess. “A maid does not contradict her lady.”
“Oops. I forgot that rule.”
Althea could see the young woman’s smile reflected in the cheval glass. She hadn’t forgotten anything. “Don’t be cheeky.”
But her tone lacked any sort of admonishment.
A light rap sounded on the door. Benedict had come for her. While Hester went off to answer it, Althea picked up her reticule in which she was carrying the gifts she’d made for the members of his family. She’d worked on them diligently every morning and late at night after she and Benedict parted ways in the library. She could seldom sleep until her skin stopped tingling from the gazes he gave her.
“Oh, he’s not going to half fall in love with you tonight.”
Not Benedict. Jewel.
“I told her almost the same thing,” Hester said, plopping down in the chair as though her work was done. For all practical purposes, it was.
She decided against responding to Jewel’s comment because if she couldn’t fool Hester, she most certainly couldn’t fool Jewel. “Do you know if he’s ready?”
“He’s waiting in the foyer.”
“Then I should probably be off.” She took a step.
“Before you go . . .”
Althea stopped, met the gaze of a woman Lady Althea never would have given a passing glance. She arched a brow.
“These were my mum’s pearls.” She held out her hand, unfolded her fingers to reveal a necklace. “I’ve never worn them when I’m working. I only bring them out on special occasions. I thought tonight you might like to wear them. They’d look awfully nice with that gown.”
“Oh, Jewel.” She was so deeply touched. “What if I lose or break them?”
“You’re not going to do that, pet. It would mean a lot to me if you would wear them.” Her smile was a bit impish. “Then I can boast that they’ve been inside a duke’s residence.”
Her throat had grown so tight she wasn’t certain she could speak, so she merely nodded and turned to face the mirror. Jewel draped the necklace around her neck, secured it, patted her shoulder. “There.”
“It’s beautiful, Jewel. It really sets off the gown.”
“It’ll draw his gaze to that fine cleavage you’re displaying so enticingly.”
She squeezed her eyes shut, even as she laughed and shook her head. The madam was too forthright with her comments, even if there was truth to them. She gave her a hard hug. “Thank you, Jewel, for so much.”
“Anytime, pet.”
“Hester, if you’ll help me with my cloak.”
“Oh, no,” Jewel said. “You need to descend those stairs wearing naught but what you have on now. Hester, you carry her wrap and put it on her in the foyer after he’s gotten a good eyeful.”
She had no reason to be nervous as she descended the stairs. She was simply going out for a nice evening with a gentleman she liked very much. So many people would be there, they’d probably have very little time to actually be together. She’d once had no trouble at all carrying on conversations with strangers. If his family didn’t welcome her, she would adapt.
She was halfway down the final flight of stairs when she came to an abrupt halt as his gaze slammed into hers. It wasn’t so much the heat in his eyes as it was every aspect of him. She’d given so much thought to how she wanted to look for him tonight that she’d given no thought at all to how he might look for her.
Gorgeous was too paltry a word. As were striking and magnificent, but still they all ran through her mind in rapid succession.
He’d trimmed his hair. Half an inch. Strange that she knew him so well she could discern the slightest changes in him. He was wearing proper evening attire: his black trousers fitted, his black double-breasted tailcoat unbuttoned, hanging open to reveal the white silk waistcoat. His snowy shirt was pristine. His light gray neck cloth was perfectly knotted. His outercoat was draped over one arm, his hand holding his black hat. It was obvious he had an incredibly skilled tailor. He could stride into any aristocratic ballroom, and no one would question his right to be there.
“Breathe,” Jewel whispered behind her, and only then did she realize she’d ceased doing so.
She continued down until she was standing before him, basking in the appreciation warming his eyes.
“You take my breath,” he said quietly.
“That’s only fair. You took mine.”
She smiled. He grinned.
“Thorne sent a carriage,” he told her, “so we should be off.”
In the carriage, she sat opposite Beast, a fur blanket draped over her lap, her slippered feet resting near the footwarmer. She’d offered to share the warmth with him, invited him to sit beside her, but his skin already felt like it was on fire, a fire that could only be doused by tumbling her. On a bed, on a settee, in a carriage.
Why he continued to put the temptation of her within easy reach was beyond him.
When he’d first caught sight of her, he’d been able to easily envision her descending stairs at a fancy ball. Everything about her screamed nobility. It wasn’t the exquisite gown or the styled hair. It was something deeper, something inside her, something that had been passed down through the centuries. They might have taken her father’s titles, but they couldn’t take from her what she was destined to be: a lady of the highest caliber.
And for tonight at least, she was on his arm.
She’d already mastered seduction with the ease with which one mastered waking up. It came to her naturally. With the soft smile she bestowed upon him whenever she first saw him, the warm welcome that sparkled in her eyes, the light blush that washed over her cheeks as though she was remembering what it felt like to have his hands cupping her breasts.
The evenings they shared in the library were both bliss and hell. To have her presence, her scent, her voice telling tales. But to not touch those lips, caress her skin, have her pressed against his throbbing cock . . . to know that eventually her plans would lead her away from him—
He didn’t inhabit the world from which she wanted to select a lover. Unlike his brothers, he’d never had a desire to move about in it, to be accepted by it. He wouldn’t be welcomed into it now.
Each night after they parted ways, as he lay in his bed alone staring at the shadows dancing over the ceiling, he was tempted to return to her. You want to be some man’s mistress? Be mine.
He had the means to purchase her a residence, more gowns than she’d have occasion to wear, jewelry that would dazzle. He could provide her with servants, a carriage, anything else she wanted. His shipping business had given him a foundation upon which he’d begun building an empire. He’d amassed a modest fortune. If he never earned another farthing, the interest alone would see him in good stead into his dotage. Presently, he used it to support good works but could use it to acquire her—but if she had him, she couldn’t have the prestige of having a lord as her protector. Would she give it up for him? Was it fair of him to ask her to? To settle for a commoner, a bastard, when she could have a man of rank and privilege?
“I assume they know I’m coming.” The tiniest thread of doubt, perhaps even nervousness, laced itself through her voice.
“They do.”
“Do they know the truth of me?”
“They know the truth of your father. I saw no reason to keep it secret when those who have married into the family might have recognized your name or you. I thought it best to avoid any awkwardness that might come about if they were taken by surprise.
”
She was lost in the shadows, but he suspected if he reached across, he’d find her gloved hands knotted in her lap.
“Thea, it’ll be just a couple of hours of trimming a tree, drinking some really good wine and scotch, enjoying a delicious dinner, and then we’ll leave. If you enjoy yourself tonight, you’re welcome to join me tomorrow when I go over for a few hours to exchange gifts and have another fine meal.”
“The only other gown I have is the red one designed for seduction, although I’m not really certain there is enough of it to qualify it as a gown. If I join you tomorrow, I’d have to wear it.”
He could tell a part of her was teasing, and another part was striving to come up with an acceptable excuse not to join him on the morrow. He didn’t want to contemplate how much less he’d enjoy the day without her there. “When are you going to show it to me?”
“I don’t know that I am. Truly, she could have used a bit more fabric. Although it is quite lovely.”
He’d like to see her in it. But then he’d also like to see her out of it. “It might not be what you want to wear tomorrow. One of the other frocks will suffice.”
“It’s so nice to have choices again. Thank you for providing the clothes.”
I could provide you with everything hung on the tip of his tongue. But now was not the time. It might never be.
“We’re in Mayfair,” she said quietly, gazing out the window. “I know which residence belongs to the Duke of Thornley but have never been inside.”
“Where did you reside when you lived in the area?”
“If I tell you, you might be tempted to take us by it. I don’t want to see it. Returning is harder than I thought it would be.”
“We can go back to the residence if you like.”
“That would be unfair to your family. I’m certain they’re looking forward to having your presence this evening. I’ll push forward. Tonight will be a test to see if I’m ready to face the demons of my past.”
As they entered the residence, the scent of evergreen hung heavy in the air, no doubt because of all the boughs and garlands that decorated the wide sweeping stairway.
“The duke and duchess are in the parlor,” a liveried footman announced as he took Benedict’s hat and coat and her cloak.
When Benedict offered his arm, she didn’t hesitate to take it before they made their way to the huge room just off the marbled foyer. Once they entered, they stopped and simply absorbed it all. Sprigs of evergreen decorated various tables, garlands draped the mantelpiece. At the far end, on a small table, stood a fir tree.
Throughout the room, people were gathered in little groups talking. His family. Some held babies, jostling them in their arms. While she’d known how many to expect, it was a bit overwhelming to see them all. Or perhaps it was the memories of the cool and distant gatherings in her family’s parlor flooding her mind that had her feeling as though she was drowning and had her tightening her hold on his arm. Or maybe it was her fear that he’d been wrong, and they would indeed all turn their backs on her—or at least the ones who had known her father, her mother, her brothers, herself.
He rubbed his gloved hand over hers, where it rested on his arm. “All will be well.”
Looking up at him, she forced herself to smile. How many times might he have experienced the same trepidation, all because of his birth?
“You’ve arrived!” a tall, slender woman announced, quickly crossing over to them. Her red hair, cut shorter than Benedict’s, framed her face. “Just in time to help us trim the tree.”
Althea didn’t know if she’d ever seen a more welcoming smile. She had to release her hold on Benedict as the Duchess of Thornley’s arms went around him, his around her.
When they separated, she immediately took Althea’s hands, squeezed. “Althea, we’re so glad you could join us. I’m Gillie.”
“I’m very honored to have been invited, Your Grace.”
She smiled once again. “We don’t stand on formality here. I believe you know Thorne.”
The duke had come up to stand behind his wife, and without even turning, she’d known he was there. Just as anytime when Althea walked into the room, no matter how engrossed Benedict was in his book, he seemed to sense her presence and come to his feet.
“Hello, Althea. You’re looking well,” Thorne said.
She had to admit that since moving into the brothel, she was feeling better. Abundant food, warmth, and shelter had benefits, although she suspected she could attribute more of her well-being to the man standing beside her. “Thank you. You as well.”
“How do your brothers fare?”
“Well, as far as I know. I haven’t heard from them recently.”
“Well, we’re glad you’re here.”
“And to that end”—Gillie entwined her arm around Althea’s—“let me introduce you around.”
With Benedict following, she led her over to where Aiden stood with his wife, the former Duchess of Lushing.
“We’ve met,” Aiden said before Gillie could speak.
“Oh?” Selena said. “At the Elysium?”
He grinned. “No, the Cerberus. She made out like a highwayman.”
Her cheeks warmed. “I had a little help I think.”
“Nothing wrong with a little help when it serves a greater good.”
Selena reached out and squeezed her hand. “I’m glad you could join us.”
Finn and Lavinia were next. She couldn’t help but think that in some ways Finn and Aiden resembled each other.
Once introductions were made and greetings exchanged, Lavinia smiled at Benedict. “Thank you for all the dolls and wooden soldiers you sent. Tomorrow morning two hundred children are going to be overjoyed.”
“Two hundred children?” Althea asked.
“They have a children’s home at their horse farm,” Benedict said quietly.
And he’d provided the children with toys. She’d have never known if she’d not come here tonight, and she wondered what else he did for which he neither sought nor received any credit.
“This is Robin,” Finn said, placing his hand on top of the dark head of a lad with mischievous brown eyes, who looked as though he was holding secrets he was dying to share.
“Hello, Robin,” she said. “I hear you like animals.”
“I love animals. Have you been to the zoological gardens?”
“It’s been a while, but, yes, I have.”
“It’s my favorite place in the whole world.”
“That makes it very special, then, doesn’t it?”
He bobbed his head.
After introducing Althea to Mick and Aslyn, as well as Fancy and Rosemont, Gillie excused herself, and Benedict escorted Althea to a chair where a small woman with dark hair streaked with silver sat, a sleeping child nestled in her arms. When they arrived, he bent and kissed the cheek the woman had tilted up toward him. “Hello, Mum.”
“Hello, lad. Sorry I can’t stand, but I don’t want to wake the little one. She was having a time of it earlier.”
“That’s all right. Better to have Gillie’s babe sleeping than crying. I’d like to introduce you to Thea.”
Her smile was a wreath of happiness. “What a joy it is to meet you.”
“I’m honored to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Trewlove. Your son is a remarkable man.”
“I can’t argue with you there. But then they all make me proud.” Looking up at Benedict, she gave her chin a little jerk. “Move that chair a bit closer so your lass can sit, and we can have a nice chat.”
“She’s not my lass.”
“I’m not his lass.”
They’d spoken at the same time, their eyes clashed, and she could see that his cheeks had gone a ruddy hue. If the heat scoring her face was any indication, hers had as well.
“The chair, lad,” his mother insisted.
He shoved a chair nearer, and Althea sat.
“Off with you,” Mrs. Trewlove ordered her son.
She co
uld tell he was hesitant to leave her. “I’ll be fine.”
“You don’t have to answer any questions you don’t want to.” Reluctantly, he walked away.
“Now, tell me everything about yourself,” Mrs. Trewlove urged.
A queue of nannies arrived to take the babes to the nursery. The tree-trimming was well underway. Beast had assisted at first, but eventually, when he’d realized his proximity to the tree didn’t allow him to overhear whatever his mum and Thea were discussing, he’d excused himself, sought out some scotch, and took a strategic location near the fireplace. He still couldn’t hear them, but from his new vantage point, he could at least see Thea’s face clearly, watch her expressions, and discern if or when he needed to step in to stop the interrogation. Thus far, she’d laughed three times, smiled eight, nodded repeatedly, revealed two things at length—based on how long she’d spoken without interruption. Her shoulders, a good bit of them bared, were relaxed, her hands covered in the gloves he’d given her floated through the air when she spoke, twice seeming to be emphasizing some important point she was making.
“Kissed her yet, guv?”
With a quick exhale, he glanced down at Robin. A time had existed when he would have crouched in order not to lord himself over the boy. But he’d gained some inches and now reached the center of his chest. He wondered if he was older than they’d assumed. “Can you keep a secret, young Robin?”
The lad bobbed his head. “Aye.”
“I have indeed kissed her.”
Robin’s eyes widened as though it was the first time anyone had ever made such a confession in response to his oft-asked question. “What was it like?”
He turned his attention back to Thea. With delight, she was listening intently to whatever tale his mum was spouting. How to do justice to a description of her kiss? All the words in his vocabulary seemed inadequate, incapable of fully revealing the power of it, the way it had made him feel. “It was as vast as the oceans, as infinite as the stars.”
Beauty Tempts the Beast Page 21