“He does hold wild parties in his town house. But I haven’t agreed to represent her. I just said I’d talk to Northcote and see if some accommodation could be made.”
Leo sniggered. “That’s certainly not going to endear you to Northcote or earn you an invitation to his next bacchanal. Sure you shouldn’t be representing him instead?”
“I told you I am not representing anyone at present. Just mediating between two mutual neighbors in order to keep the peace.”
“Ah, so you’re a peacekeeper now too?” Leo stood and reached out to lift up one of Lawrence’s eyelids. “Are you sure you’re really my brother? Maybe a changeling got in one night and took his place?”
Lawrence jerked away. “Ha-ha, very funny. And for your information, I have no wish to be invited to one of Northcote’s parties.”
Leo laughed in earnest. “Liar.”
“I’ll remind you that you haven’t received an invitation from him either.”
“Yes, but I have a woman of my own and no need to sate my lust with a bevy of promiscuously inclined beauties.”
“Well, neither have I.”
Leo crossed his arms. “Really? Do tell?”
“I’ve taken a new mistress,” Lawrence said with a pleased smile. “She’s a singer, who recently caught my eye, and we’ve come to a very comfortable arrangement.”
“I had no idea you’d been so busy.”
“Probably because you’ve had one thing—or rather one person—on your mind lately.”
“True.” Leo grinned.
“Yes, well, I’ve set my new paramour up with her own cozy little town house a comfortable distance away. It’s working out well. Really, Northcote ought to do the same rather than provoking the ire of a prudish old biddy like Lady Higgleston.”
An unexpected thought occurred. “Unless that’s why he does it? Maybe he wants to be provocative?”
Lawrence tilted his head. “Perhaps. To be frank, whatever his intentions, I don’t hold out much hope of coming to an amiable solution between the two of them. But it’s worth a try.”
“Plus, you’re dying to see inside his house. Stories say he has naked harem paintings and a vast collection of other erotic art.”
“The stories say he has erotic everything.”
“If you manage to get inside, I want all the details.”
“And in the meantime?”
“In the meantime, I’ll be with Thalia.”
Dear Lord Leopold,
I am sorry, but
Thalia stopped and drew a line through the words. After a moment, she began again.
I know I promised to join you this evening, however
No, that wouldn’t do either.
I am afraid I am not feeling
Well, that was doomed to certain failure. He would see through her excuse in an instant and be knocking on her door in order to check on her health.
Over the past week, he’d become a regular visitor, so she knew the staff would let him in without a second thought. Even Fletcher’s initial cool reserve had warmed beneath the force of Leo’s cheerful nature and genteel affability. The long and short of it was that in only a few short days, he’d charmed her entire household.
She scowled and glared at the page, which was littered with a sad cross-hatching of black ink; it looked all the worse in the early afternoon sunlight that shone through the drawing room windows. Reaching out, she crumpled the paper into a ball and tossed it into the wastepaper basket.
With resolve, she laid a fresh piece of parchment onto her writing desk and began once again. . . .
My dear Lord Leopold,
Many thanks again for your kind invitation to accompany you to the theater tonight. Unfortunately, I shall be unable to attend.
There, that should suffice, she thought.
Yet as her pen hovered over the spot where her signature would go, she hesitated, knowing it would not suffice. Leo would want—no, likely demand—an explanation. And what was she going to say?
That she was having second thoughts about this affair he wanted.
That she knew by accompanying him tonight she was tacitly agreeing to be his mistress—declaring it not only to him but to Society at large.
And finally that he would expect to come home with her after their outing and spend the rest of the night in her bed.
She closed her eyes, the memory of his kisses sweet on her lips, the haunting sensation of his hands tempting her beyond measure.
And yet was desire enough?
Was it worth all the trouble that might come after?
Her pen was still hovering indecisively over the page when a light tap came at the door.
“Lady Cathcart, milady,” Fletcher said. “Shall I show her in?”
“Certainly.” She laid down her pen, quietly relieved by the distraction.
“Tilly,” she greeted moments later, crossing to wrap her friend in a warm embrace.
“Oh, it is good to see you so improved,” Tilly said, glancing down at Thalia’s feet as she stepped back. “Is your ankle completely healed?”
“It is. Only an occasional twinge.”
She and Mathilda took seats on the nearby sofa.
Mathilda knotted her hands together in her lap. “I had your note. I came as soon as I could.”
Thalia had penned Mathilda just after breakfast that morning. “Fletcher, you may leave us. And close the door, if you would be so good.”
The butler bowed and withdrew, shutting the door silently at his back.
“Tell me at once,” Mathilda urged. “What have you discovered? I want to know and yet I don’t. Silly of me, is it not?”
“No, only human. I’m sorry to prolong your anxiety, but I didn’t want to put anything in writing should someone else happen to see.”
Mathilda nodded. “Very wise.”
“Let me begin with the good news. Lord Cathcart is not having an affair.”
“He isn’t? Oh, thank God.” Mathilda’s shoulders sagged with relief. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. From everything my . . . friend was able to ascertain, there is absolutely no sign of him engaged in a liaison or availing himself of the services of a bawdy house.”
“That’s wonderful news. I’m so relieved.” A brilliant smile stretched over Mathilda’s mouth.
But less than a minute later it was gone, a tiny frown creasing her forehead. “But if he is not having an affair, then where is he going? Why is he behaving as he is?”
“That’s the other bit of information my friend learned.” Thalia reached out and laid a hand over one of Mathilda’s. “Tilly, has Henry mentioned anything about the estate?”
“The estate?” Mathilda looked confused. “No. What has that to do with anything?”
“Apparently he mortgaged the farms and a few other parcels of land. Everything, I understand, that is not part of the Lambton entail.”
“But the farms bring in most of the income for the estate. And he’s mortgaged them? Why?”
“He made a few investments that have gone badly and he needed the money to cover them. The debt is scheduled to come due in the next couple of months. If the money cannot be found, it will mean the forfeiture of all the mortgaged parcels.”
The color drained from Mathilda’s face and she took Thalia’s hand in a tight grip. “We will be destitute. And the boys. Oh, Thalia, how will I explain it to them? Will there even be enough money to keep Tom in school?”
“You must not despair. You will have Lambton and a bit of land whatever comes.”
“And no means of maintaining it. Oh, poor Henry. No wonder he has been so troubled. But he ought to have told me. He should have let me stand by his side. As the vows say, I married him for richer or for poorer.”
“I am sure he didn’t want you to worry. And there may yet be hope.”
Mathilda met her gaze. “How?”
“My friend knows a man who is a pure wizard at finance, or so he says. He told me that if anyone can help,
it will be this man. He would be willing to put in a word with him if you agree.”
“I’m not sure. Henry is very proud. Then again, this is no time for pride, which I shall convince him of once we speak. But who is this man? And who is your friend?” She tilted her head, a suddenly shrewd gleam in her blue eyes. “It’s not Lord Leopold by any chance?”
Thalia paused, wondering whether she should deny it. But Mathilda would find out regardless, especially if she agreed to let him help. She nodded. “I hope you do not mind that I involved him. You did ask me to help.”
“You are right, I did. And I thank you, both of you. Henry might take some convincing, but I say yes to Lord Leopold’s offer. Please tell him to contact this financial wizard of his—what is his name?”
“Pendragon. Rafe Pendragon, I believe.”
“Good. In the meantime, I shall see to Henry,” Mathilda said.
Thalia smiled. “I will let Leo know your decision.”
“Leo, is it?” Mathilda lifted a brow. “So are the two of you—” She waggled a pair of fingers.
“No! Well, in a manner of speaking. He certainly wants to be.”
“And you?” Mathilda asked quietly.
“I—I am not sure.”
“Are you not? I couldn’t help but notice the way the sparks crackled between the two of you the other day. He fairly smolders whenever he lays eyes on you. As for you . . .”
Thalia crossed her arms. “Yes, what about me?”
“I’ve never seen you look at a man the way you look at him. You want him. Even more, I think you care.”
“Do I?”
I certainly do not want to.
Letting herself feel something more than desire for Leo would be a dreadful mistake, one that could lead nowhere good for either of them.
“It scarcely signifies,” she said. “I have no need of a lover and he is far too young for me.”
“Is he? I didn’t notice his age; he’s such a bold, masculine man. And the two of you seem so well suited.”
“Well suited or not, I have decided to break things off.” A pang went through her as she said the words. “I was just writing to cancel an outing with him to the theater tonight when you called. It’s for the best, I think.”
Thalia stared down at her lap, fighting the sudden wave of sadness that engulfed her.
“I cannot agree.”
She looked up. “What?”
“You and Lord Leopold calling things off. It is a mistake.”
“But, Tilly—”
“I know everything you’ve suffered, how deeply you have been hurt and wronged. But your life is a lonely one, Thalia, and you do not deserve to spend it all alone. I think a lover like Lord Leopold is exactly what you need. Live a little for once. Your critics will condemn you whatever you do.”
“You are right about that.”
Mathilda leaned forward, her expression earnest. “Forget all the so-called rules. The only question you should be asking yourself is whether or not being with Lord Leo makes you happy. Does it? Does he?”
Thalia’s heart beat strongly in her chest, the answer there before she even had to think. “Yes.”
“Then do not send that letter. Just tell him yes and let yourself enjoy what comes.”
* * *
A half an hour later, Thalia stood before the meager fire in her bedchamber, the note to Leo in hand. She studied it, her thoughts and emotions awhirl.
Was Tilly right? Should she throw herself headlong into an affair with Leo?
The gently bred lady inside her said no. The mature woman who’d tasted passion said something else.
Sinful somethings else.
Excitement thundered in her breast, her body warming at the idea of giving herself to him completely. He’d brought her such pleasure already. Only think what more she might find if she just took off the restraints.
And he was delicious. A man any woman would want.
Yet if she did this, she would be everything Society said of her. She would be wanton and wicked in deed, not just in reputation. She would finally be the scarlet woman she’d been branded so many years before.
Yet whom would they be harming? Leo wasn’t married, nor was she any longer.
And as Tilly said, hadn’t she suffered enough?
She stroked a fingertip over the parchment.
Then, with a sudden flick of her wrist, she tossed the note into the flames.
Turning, she went to the bellpull and rang for her maid.
She had an evening gown to choose.
Chapter 19
“You seem in fine spirits tonight,” Leo said to Thalia several hours later as he leaned back in his seat at the theater.
Thalia sat at his side, looking utterly radiant.
She was dressed in an amethyst satin gown that made her skin glow with vitality. Her dark sable hair was swept high to reveal the smooth white column of her throat. A cameo—perhaps the same one she’d worn the night they’d first met—nestled between her full breasts. He wished he could bury his face against their softness and breathe her in.
But that would have to wait for later. At least he hoped there would be a later.
She turned her soft caramel brown eyes on him, her lush ruby lips curved into a tease of a smile. “I am in good spirits. I haven’t been to the theater in years. This is a lovely treat. Thank you, Lord Leopold.”
“You are quite welcome. When I asked you to accompany me, I wasn’t entirely sure you wanted to come.”
“I wasn’t sure either, but I have since changed my mind. As they say, such is a woman’s prerogative.”
“Indeed. Might I inquire as to the reason for this change? Not that I have any complaint, mind you.”
“You may inquire.” She unfurled her fan and waved it languidly before her face. “But that doesn’t mean I must answer,” she added teasingly. “Look, the play appears to be starting.”
And it was, the heavy velvet curtains opening on the stage below to reveal the players. The performance was The School for Scandal, one of Sheridan’s most amusing works. But Leo’s eyes were all for Thalia, his thoughts centered on her unexpectedly provocative mood.
He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but there was something different about her tonight. Something more relaxed and carefree, as if she had decided to enjoy herself and the consequences be damned. She didn’t even seem to mind the curious looks they had been receiving since entering the box together.
Attendance was light given the time of year, but word of their outing would spread nevertheless. He’d worried that Thalia might dislike the attention. Instead, she paid it little heed, laughing and smiling as though they were the only two people in the theater.
What he wouldn’t give for them to be alone, since he desperately wanted to kiss her. Perhaps if he played his cards right, he might be able to persuade her to leave during the interval and return to her town house.
His shaft stirred at the idea, memories of their interlude in her bedchamber teasing much more than his thoughts.
He fixed his eyes on the stage, watching the actors with barely any awareness of the play itself. Luckily he’d already seen it, so his inattention would go unnoticed should anyone ask him about it later.
He curled a hand into a fist on his leg and resisted the urge to check the hour on his pocket watch. The time would pass—somehow.
The audience was laughing, everyone’s focus on the stage several minutes later, when Thalia leaned toward him. “How are you liking the play?”
“Quite well,” he answered, gazing through the low light into her eyes. “And you?”
“It is most enjoyable. But I find this all more wearying than I had imagined. I was wondering if you would mind leaving at the interval?”
It was as if she had read his thoughts, although he hoped she wasn’t really all that tired. “No, I don’t mind, if that is what you want.”
“It is.”
Then without any warning, she laid her hand ove
r his where it rested against his leg. “I believe you will find there are a great many things I want tonight, my dear Lord Leopold.”
A hot rush went through his blood. He shot her a fresh glance, but she had already turned her attention back to the stage.
She didn’t remove her hand, though.
Flipping his hand over, he threaded his fingers through hers, their clasp concealed from view by the dim lighting. Using his thumb, he drew tiny circles on her palm, pleased when he felt a shiver ripple through her in response.
The play continued with frustrating slowness. But he contented himself, knowing that the best portion of the evening was still ahead.
Finally the curtain descended, signaling the start of the interval. He met Thalia’s gaze. “Are you still of a mind for us to take our leave?”
Her lips parted on a dreamy smile. “I am. Please, take me home, Leo.”
“With pleasure,” he said, wishing instead that he could just take her—right then and there.
Keeping his emotions under strict control, he helped her into her evening cloak, then slipped a hand around her elbow to lead her out.
They walked side by side down the hallway, moving silently through the crowd. They were nearing the staircase that led to the exit when a man suddenly appeared in front of them.
Thalia’s step faltered slightly, her entire body turning stiff.
Her smile vanished.
The man was tall and stocky with straight dark hair combed back from a long forehead. He sauntered forward, a faint smirk on his face. Some might have considered it handsome in spite of the expression. Leo didn’t, sensing the animus beneath the other man’s carefully groomed, elegantly dressed facade.
“Thalia, how unexpected to find you here,” he said. “I didn’t think you were still in the habit of attending the theater.”
She tilted her chin up, her back rigidly straight. Instinctively, she edged closer to Leo.
He tightened his hold on her elbow, bristling with immediate dislike for the stranger—though clearly he was no stranger to her.
“It has been some while since I had the pleasure of seeing a play,” she said. “Had I known there was a chance I might run into you, I would have taken care to choose another evening to reacquaint myself with the theatrical arts.”
The Bedding Proposal Page 18