Swear by Moonlight

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by Shirlee Busbee


  Thinking of her own escapades last night, escapades that were far worse than merely flirting with a susceptible young man, Thea's warning words died unspoken. Instead she nodded, and said, "Indeed it is. It seems that things one really wishes to do are precisely the things that one cannot do."

  "Rules are what gives society order," Modesty murmured. "Without them, life would be utter chaos."

  A gleam entered Edwina's eyes. "Well, I for one, think that chaos might prove to be extremely interesting."

  Before Modesty could make the reply that hovered on her lips, Tillman knocked and entered the room. "Mister Patrick Blackburne has come to call," he said sourly.

  "Then show him in," Modesty said before Thea could deny him—just in case her niece had been so inclined. She wasn't giving Thea a chance to snub the most fascinating gentleman who had crossed their path in many a day.

  Patrick entered the room only seconds later, and Modesty had the distinct impression that even if Thea had tried to deny him, it would have been to no avail. There was something about him, something about that firm jaw and steady gaze that indicated he was a man who was seldom denied anything he wanted. Taking another sip of her coffee, Modesty settled back to be entertained.

  Greetings were exchanged, and Patrick was offered some refreshments. He selected coffee and, standing before the small fire that burned on the hearth, sipped his beverage and made small talk with the three ladies.

  He looked very handsome in his dark blue form-fitting jacket and equally snug-fitting breeches as he stood there, and surreptitiously Modesty watched the interplay among the three younger people. Edwina's boldly flirtatious manner brought a frown to her forehead, and she could have kicked Thea for sitting there and letting the younger woman dominate the conversation.

  Despite her manner, Edwina was curious about Patrick's presence. As well as anybody, she knew that her half sister normally avoided the male of the species. If Blackburne had been an elderly male friend of the family, Edwina would not have thought twice about his visit, but he was not elderly, nor as far as she could tell, a long-standing acquaintance. So what brought him here? Speculatively she glanced from Thea to Patrick. Hmmm.

  "How long do you intend to be in England, Mr. Blackburne?" Edwina asked. She flashed her loveliest smile. "Having just met you, my heart will be quite broken if you tell me that you are leaving soon for that barbarous country of yours. London has so many... pleasures to offer. Do say that you will be here for several months."

  Patrick looked at Thea as she sat beside Edwina on the sofa. The contrast between the two siblings could not have been greater. Thea was dark and vital; tall and slim. Edwina was blond, small and curvaceous, and she exuded sexual promise with every breath she took. The tilt of her golden head, the pout of her lips, and the sensual glitter in her eyes told him plainly that she would not be averse to knowing him in the most intimate way possible.

  There was a time, and in the not-too-distant past, that he would have returned her overt signals, but that, he thought ruefully, was before his path had crossed that of the notorious Thea Garrett. He found his usual taste in petite blondes had vanished, and these days his liking, nay, his fascination ran to slender dark-eyed wenches and one vibrant, outrageous little wench in particular.

  His gray eyes on Thea's averted face, he said slowly, "I do not know when I shall return home. It all depends upon the outcome of a, er, business venture I am currently involved in." Because he had been watching her, only he saw the slight stiffening of Thea's shoulders. Almost purring, he added, "But that aside, I have a far more important reason for delaying my return to Natchez. I have discovered, you might say, that London not only holds many pleasures, but it also has its treasures. I've a good mind to take one of those treasures with me when I leave."

  Modesty beamed at him. "Excellent!" she exclaimed. "I suspected that you were a man of good sense. Your words have just proven it."

  The corner of his mouth kicked up, and he lifted his cup in a silent toast. "And you, my dear lady, are far too astute for your own good!"

  In perfect understanding they smiled at each other.

  Annoyed that he ignored her lures and feeling as if she had missed the first act of a play, Edwina said with forced brightness, "Well, I am happy that you are enjoying your stay in London."

  His smile deepened as Thea glanced up at him. "Oh, I am," he said softly. "I am indeed."

  That Thea was the object of his interest was obvious, and Edwina's mouth thinned. Rising to her feet, she said, "Well, I must be on my way." She made one last attempt. Smiling warmly at Patrick, she added, "I have my coach. Perhaps I could give you a ride somewhere?"

  "I appreciate your offer," Patrick said smoothly, "but I must decline. Thank you very much."

  Edwina dutifully kissed Thea and Modesty, and, her irritation apparent, flounced from the room.

  The door had hardly shut behind her before Patrick said, "I fear that I have upset the lady."

  "Probably," Modesty replied. "But it will do her good. She has been petted and spoiled all her life. It is time that she learns that she cannot have everything that she wants."

  "She is very young," Thea said defensively. "And it is true that she has been dreadfully indulged, but that is because she is so beautiful." Looking at Patrick, she said earnestly, "She has such a natural charm and warmth that one just naturally wants to please her. She cannot help being a trifle spoiled."

  Modesty snorted.

  A twinkle in his eyes, he said to Thea, "If you say it is so, my sweet, why then it must be so. I certainly will not argue the point that she is very beautiful. Too young," he continued as the twinkle died from his gaze, "to be a widow."

  Modesty put a finger to her lips and, to Patrick's mystification, stood up and walked to the door. Opening it, she stuck her head out and glanced up and down the hallway.

  Shutting the door behind her, she resumed her seat. Looking at Patrick, she explained. "One of Edwina's less charming traits is her habit of listening at keyholes. She is a terrible snoop and not above eavesdropping should the notion take her." Her mouth quirked. "And unfortunately the notion seems to take her quite frequently."

  That Thea wanted to refute Modesty's words was obvious, but they were too true, and she asked instead, "What do we do now? We still don't know where Hirst's body has been hidden... or why." A guilty look crossed her face. "And last night made it unlikely that we will learn anything else at the Curzon Street house."

  "I agree," Patrick said. He had thought a great deal about what had happened, and one thing was obvious to him; there was no longer any need or reason for Thea to be involved in whatever was going on. Her initial involvement had been because of Hirst; with Hirst not only dead, but his body missing as well, her part ended. Since he was satisfied that she'd had nothing to do with the blackmailing of his mother, her usefulness to him in that connection also ended. One might think that it was time to cut the ties that had brought them together. He smiled faintly. He had the strong premonition that hell would freeze over before the feelings that bound them together could be severed. But it was going to take, he admitted wryly, some tricky maneuvering on his part to convince his prickly darling of that fact.

  With that in mind, he said, "I was going to suggest a drive in Hyde Park this afternoon, but the weather has unfortunately killed that idea. Perhaps I could escort you and Miss Bradford to the theater tonight? And arrange a late supper for us?"

  Thea glanced at him with a puzzled frown. "But how will any of that help us find Alfred's body? We have learned nothing that would indicate that Hyde Park or the theater has any connection to Hirst's death."

  Modesty's eyes lifted heavenward. She knew that Thea was an intelligent young woman, but sometimes she doubted it. The child was a babe when it came to gentlemen—no wonder that rogue Hawley Randall had found it so easy to convince her to run away with him.

  "You're correct: Hyde Park has nothing to do with Hirst," Patrick admitted.

  Her br
ows knitted in a frown, Thea asked, "Then why should we go? We are involved in finding out who murdered my brother-in-law, nothing more. Besides, everyone knows that I am a ruined woman; if you are seen to seek me out, if I am seen riding in Hyde Park with you, there will be gossip and ugly speculation." Thea bit her lip and glanced at the floor. "I do not mean to be unkind, but for your good, you would be wise to avoid my company."

  Patrick sighed. Looking at Modesty, he asked, "May I have a moment alone with her?"

  "Certainly!"

  And before Thea could blink, Modesty deserted her, shutting the door firmly behind her as she left the room.

  Puzzled, Thea looked at Patrick. "What do you have to say to me that cannot be said in front of her? Have you both gone mad?"

  Patrick crossed to her in one step and pulled her into his arms. "No, sweetheart, she is not mad," he said, "but I certainly am... for you." His mouth came down hard on hers, and his arms tightened around her.

  Startled, by both his words and action, Thea stood pliant in his embrace; to her bewilderment, all of her senses sang into life. Magic enveloped her, and she lost herself in the sweet power of his kiss, the intoxicating sensation of his strong arms holding her against him, and the honeyed warmth flooding through her.

  Her arms closed round his neck, and she kissed him back, reveling in her own boldness, in her pleasure at the touch of his lips on hers. He smelled good, too, she thought with pleasure, as she pressed nearer to him.

  He kissed her a long, long time, and when he finally lifted his mouth from hers, Thea was breathless and starry-eyed.

  Staring tenderly into her dazed features, he murmured, "Now do you understand?"

  Thea came back to earth with a crash, all of her old suspicions rising up within her. She stepped warily out of his embrace and put a prudent distance between them. Sick inside, afraid of his answer, she asked, "Are you trying to seduce me? L-L-Like Hawley did?"

  Patrick smothered a curse. What he wouldn't give for two minutes alone with Hawley!

  The gray eyes hard, he demanded, "Is that what you think of me? That I am like Hawley?"

  "N-N-No, not exactly. But what else am I to think? You know my reputation." A flush stained her cheeks. "Gentlemen usually have only two reasons for seeking me out: to win a wager or to try their hand at seduction."

  Furious with his entire sex, Patrick struggled to keep from smashing his fist into the wall. Would he ever be able to get past her mistrust of men? A well-founded mistrust, he admitted with a wince, some of his own actions in the past starting to haunt him. It was clear his courtship was going to be a rocky one and that he would have to proceed with great care.

  "Perhaps," he said gently, "I had a different reason—have you considered that?"

  Thea frowned. What other reason could he have had? Of course, she thought miserably. She should have guessed. He wanted her for his mistress! Her first instinct was to slap his face and order him from the room, but she hesitated. Would it be so very terrible to become his mistress? She was ruined anyway—no decent man would offer her anything but the sort of relationship Patrick apparently had in mind. Other men had alluded to the same thing, and she had sent them smartly on their way, but there was something about Patrick that she found nearly irresistible.... Unhappily she admitted that she wanted to be in his arms, that she wanted to learn all those intimate things she had not learned from Hawley... Dare she risk it? Dare she risk the scandal, if their liaison was discovered? No, she could not put her family through that again. But it wouldn't be the same, a sly voice argued in her mind. She was no young innocent maid running away to be married to a man she thought she loved. She was older now, her reputation already stained. She had far more license and freedom these days and had no doubt that Patrick would arrange for them to meet very, very discreetly....

  She glanced at him uncertainly. "You want me to become your mistress, that's it, isn't it?"

  Patrick smothered a curse, and, his face hard, he demanded, "And would you be willing to become my mistress, if that is what I want?"

  Faced with the actual offer, Thea dithered, knowing that her answer would change her life forever. Common sense dictated that she toss the offer back in his face, but the desire to know fully the pleasures to be had from his love-making and her own impetuous nature worked against her. Not giving herself time to think, or change her mind, she blurted out, "Yes—if you w-w-want me."

  He turned away, his hands clenching into fists. Staring at the fire he considered disillusioning her about his intentions, but he wondered if it would be wise. Convinced of her own notoriety, of her own damaged state, he had the unpleasant notion that if he were foolish enough to explain that he had a more honorable proposal in mind, she would turn him down in a flash. And banish him from her presence—and all for his own good, of course.

  The anger slowly left him as he watched the red-and-yellow flames on the hearth. She was willing, at least at the moment, to become his mistress; it was highly unlikely that she would consider any other offer from him. If he forced the issue, demanding that she marry him, she would no doubt send him on his way. Certain that she was acting in his best interest, she would shun him at every turn—which would make his wooing of her a trifle difficult.

  He shook his head in frustration. She was willing to be his mistress—a position any other lady of her standing would view with outraged horror—and he suspected her agreement would not last very long. The dangers of being his mistress would dawn on her quickly—probably as soon as he left the room and she had a moment to think. But perhaps he could us this momentary weakness to his advantage? He meant to marry her, but if she thought differently, until he had the plans for their marriage firmly in place, did it matter?

  Turning back to her, he said quietly, "I do want you, sweetheart—more than you know." He crossed to her, and taking her hand in his, he dropped a kiss on it. "I shall be honored."

  Thea took a steadying breath, pushing aside her doubts and an odd pang of disappointment. This was what she wanted, she told herself firmly.

  "When?" she asked simply.

  Patrick stared at her, his expression unreadable, wondering if she knew precisely how completely she was putting her fate, her future in his hands. Swearing never to give her cause to regret her decision, he pulled her into his arms. "Soon, my pet," he said against her mouth. "You will be mine, just as swiftly as I can make suitable arrangements."

  Chapter 9

  Patrick was thoughtful as he left Thea's town house. He had made no definite plans with Thea concerning what she thought would be their new relationship. The morning's conversation, however, made it imperative that he move swiftly.

  Pushing those thoughts from his mind, he concentrated on identifying his mother's blackmailer. A call on the solicitor handling the Curzon Street house seemed his only choice—going back to the house would accomplish little, but perhaps he could learn something new from Mr. Beaton.

  Patrick did learn something new. The house was no longer on the market—the owner, the country spinster, Miss Martha Ellsworth, had decided not to sell it, but was deeding the property to her nephew—Thomas Ellsworth.

  Patrick asked, "Would that be the same Thomas Ellsworth whose aunt, Lady Levina Embry, died earlier this year?"

  Startled, Mr. Beaton exclaimed, "Why, why, yes it is. Never tell me it is such a small world that you know the young man?"

  Patrick smiled. "I do not know him... let us just say that I know 'of' him. He is married to Lord Bettison's daughter I believe?"

  "Yes, he is, as a matter of fact."

  Taking his leave from Mr. Beaton, Patrick next called on his mother. He was fortunate to find her home alone.

  Greetings were exchanged, and he imparted what he had discovered from Mr. Beaton. Seated across from Lady Caldecott in a dainty rose-satin chair in the cozy room in which he had found her, he said, "Stretch your memory, Mama. You mentioned Levina's sisters and brothers—was one of them a spinster who lives in the country? A Miss Ma
rtha Ellsworth?"

  Puzzled, Lady Caldecott shook her head. "I don't believe so. In fact, I am almost positive that she did not—her sisters names were Anne and Cecilia—I do not recall their married names. And it was Levina who was the spinster in the family until she married Lord Embry. Oh, wait!" She frowned. "Let me think. It seems to me that there is something... Ah, I have it!" She leaned forward. "Levina's brother, Thomas's father, married a cousin, also named Ellsworth, and I believe that she had a sister who was a spinster."

  Patrick regarded her with awe. "Is there no one's family tree that you do not have in that charming head of yours?"

  "Of course not!" Lady Caldecott said. Amusement leaping into her fine eyes, she murmured, "I never keep track of the common."

  Patrick laughed. Rising to his feet, he walked over and bent down to kiss her soft, scented cheek. "I do not know what I shall do with this new information, but do not worry about your blackmailer—just let me know if he makes further demands."

  He took his leave a few minutes later. As he walked away from his mother's home, he considered his next step.

  Deciding that until he knew the address of Mr. Ellsworth's domicile an interview with him could wait, Patrick spent a busy afternoon making arrangements of his own. He dined with his friends, Lord Embry and Adam Paxton, at a favorite tavern of theirs on Gerrard Street, and it was only when they were savoring a final glass of port that he brought up the subject of Thomas Ellsworth.

  Setting down his glass, Patrick asked, "Do either of you know where I might find Thomas Ellsworth?"

  Nigel regarded him closely. "Seems to me that you are taking an uncommon interest in the Ellsworth family these days. Didn't you just ask me about them the other day?"

  "Guilty, but I am not so much interested in the family as I am in Thomas in particular."

  "Why?" asked Adam.

 

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