The Temptation of a Gentleman

by Jenna Petersen

  She let out a quiet curse to release her frustration. There were no choices left. She wouldn’t do her father’s bidding and simply wait while he sold her off to a man who made the tiny hairs on her neck raise with anxiety.

  She pushed to her feet and left her chamber. Her hands shook as she slipped down the stairs toward Josiah Lucas’s study where the two men were having sherry and talking before supper. Lamplight flowed under the door and through the slight crack where it hadn’t been closed completely.

  Marion contemplated her options. Eavesdropping on her father and his friend wasn’t ladylike. In fact, she was sure her late mother wouldn’t have approved in the least. Of course, Marion assumed her mother wouldn’t have approved of this marriage arrangement either. Throwing her doubts to the wind, she leaned against the wall next to the door to listen.

  “Mr. Lucas I’ve done all I can to repay my debts to you,” her father said in a wavering, almost whining voice. “I’ve even given you a share in my holdings. What more do you want from me?”

  Through the sliver of space in the doorway, she watched Josiah turn from the fire. “You know what I want. You knew before you even came here. After all, you brought your daughter to my estate, didn’t you?”

  Marion clenched her fists at her sides. If there had been any doubt before this moment, it was gone.

  Her father blustered for a moment. “I brought Marion as you asked, but I thought we could negotiate like reasonable men!”

  Lucas laughed. “I believe I’m being more than reasonable, Mr. Hawthorne. You give me your daughter’s hand in marriage, and I think that will be more than enough to correct the majority of the debt you owe me.”

  There was a long pause that filled the Marion with ominous premonition. Yet she couldn’t turn away. She had to stay and hear her father hear the words.

  “You would erase all the debt?” Walter Hawthorne’s voice was less certain.

  Marion’s curled her hand until her fingernails bit into the wooden doorframe. “Please, Papa don’t sell me like this,” she begged under her breath.

  “The majority,” Lucas corrected. “And I would be very generous in the terms of the remainder’s repayment. But…”

  “But?”

  “I’ll need proof Marion can provide me with heirs to my fortune, my land and my business. I’m not getting any younger.”

  Her father gasped. “Marion is a healthy, young woman. I’m sure…”

  Lucas rose with an angry grunt. “My late wife, Georgina was also healthy and young. Younger, even, than Marion when we married. And she did nothing but complain about her lot in life and avoid my touch whenever possible. Her womb was barren. Youth and health aren’t always indicators of a woman’s cold soul. This time I’ll need evidence.”

  Marion eyes stole to the picture of the pretty girl above Josiah’s head. She must have gone through so much, only to die so young. And now Marion seemed to be steered to a similar fate.

  Her father’s shaky reply returned her attention to the men. “And how would I provide you proof of my daughter’s fertility?”

  Lucas let out a low, sinister laugh and Marion’s heart sank. “I must be allowed my husbandly rights before our marriage. If she becomes with child within three months, I’ll wed her.”

  Even Walter Hawthorne balked at this. “You would have her before you have taken vows with her?” She heard him swallow hard. “No.”

  A surge of unfamiliar gratitude toward her father flowed through her. Noah was wrong, even Walter didn’t have the greed to barter her in such a callous way.

  Her father continued, “If she doesn’t bear you a child, then she will be a worthless commodity to me. She’ll be ruined and I’ll have no chance to make a valuable match with her in the future.”

  Marion’s gratitude faded.

  Lucas’s voice was smug. “Of course I realize that, Walter. And I would be fair. I’d still reduce your debt by half as my appreciation for her… services. And my repayment plan will be generous. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain by my plan.”

  Sickened, Marion’s hands began to shake. She prayed her father would turn the offer down. That he would forget whatever animosity he had toward her mother and remember she was his child.

  “Yes,” his replied quietly.

  She lurched back as her heart broke. Once again he’d let her down. And all for money.

  “Good.” Through the crack in the door, she saw Lucas poor her father a drink. “After Lord Woodbury departs tonight, you will bring Marion to my quarters and our bargain will begin.”

  “No,” her father said hastily. For a brief moment, Marion hoped he’d changed his mind. “My daughter is willful and will fight like a cat if you spring this ‘courtship’ on her so suddenly. Give me a few months and I can convince her…”

  “If your daughter is willful, perhaps she needs a firmer, less loving hand than the one you’ve bestowed.”

  Hawthorne snorted. “Trust I’ve been the best disciplinarian I could be. But I still think she’ll be more willing in a few months.”

  Lucas hesitated, as if pondering the wisdom of waiting to bed her. “I can see how a few weeks of coaxing might make the conquest all the easier. I will give you one month to convince her, but no more. If she still doesn’t come willingly, I’ll take her to my bed by whatever means necessary.”

  “One month,” her father repeated under his breath. “I’ll do my best.”

  “Very good. Lord Woodbury should be arriving at any moment. I’ll ring for a maid to fetch Marion. I’d like to see your convincing begin as soon as possible.”

  Marion turned to run up the stairs, but with every step, tears blurred her vision and her heart ached with disappointment. Now what in the world was she to do?

  ***

  When Marion entered the dining room with her brown eyes cast to the floor and her skin a sickly pale, Noah knew something had happened. But there was no way to ask what had transpired without drawing unwanted attention to their tenuous friendship.

  “Good evening,” he said.

  She met his eyes with a weak smile. “My lord.” Turning to the other men, her smile fell and her voice became more brittle. “Father, Mr. Lucas.”

  “Are you well, my dear?” Lucas stepped forward to hold out a hand. She sidestepped his touch and took a seat without his aid. “You seem weary.”

  Her eyes went very cold. “It’s been a long few weeks, Mr. Lucas, between the travel and being in a strange bed.”

  Noah frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that. I hope being able to sketch has helped.”

  Her smile finally seemed genuine. “Very much so, and I thank you again for your kindness.”

  How he wanted to take her aside and ask what had happened. If he could, he would have, but Josiah Lucas watched the two of them with just the slightest hint of jealousy. Alienating the man who was his target didn’t seem wise. Not if he intended to complete the mission he’d been sent here to do. Which wasn’t to save Marion.

  However, when the starched butler came in to announce supper, Noah didn’t hesitate to take Marion’s arm. Her father and Lucas went ahead and he quickly whispered, “What happened?”

  She gave him a fleeting glance. “Not now, it’s too complicated. Meet me later.”

  “Where?” he whispered, but she left his side and took the seat the footman offered her before she could answer. By her exasperated expression, she, too, was frustrated by their inability to communicate further.

  When the food arrived, Marion forced herself to eat, though everything tasted like sawdust. All she could think of was her father’s promise to Josiah Lucas. In just four short weeks she would be made to share a bed with Lucas, and probably a life if that joining produced a child. The thought was repulsive.

  Her gaze stole to Noah. He was talking to her father about some member of Parliament’s latest financial scandal. Noah Jordan was a rake, a man who had made the pursuit of women a life’s mission. Surely he could help her think of some
way out of the situation she currently found herself in.

  A plan began to form in her mind as she looked even closer. Yes, he was exactly the kind of man who would take pleasure in the challenge of a virtuous woman like herself. The kind of man who expected to flirt and woo a woman, then discard her. Ruin her.

  Noah glanced down the table and was surprised that Marion’s expression had lightened considerably. In fact, she looked positively pleased with herself as she stared at him. His stomach lurched that she would look at him like that. As if she believed he held the key to her welfare.

  What could be further from the truth. As much as he wanted to help her, he had to concentrate on Josiah Lucas. Already, Marion was proving to be too much of a distraction to him. Even now he had to force himself to turn away and listen to Lucas.

  “Well, it was a wonderful meal,” Walter Hawthorne said as he set his napkin to the side of his plate with a satisfied sigh. “We’re lucky to be able to partake in such a sumptuous feast, aren’t we, Marion?”

  She stiffened at the comment, her brown eyes narrowing slightly. Noah could see contempt in every inch of her.

  “Thank you, Mr. Lucas, for your hospitality. Unfortunately, my head troubles me a bit tonight. I hope you gentlemen will excuse me if I go up to my room and rest my eyes,” she said in a voice devoid of the emotions so clear in her eyes.

  Lucas took in a short breath through his teeth, an almost imperceptible noise, but Noah heard it.

  “Of course, Miss Marion,” their host said with a tight smile. “Go with my hope that you’ll feel better in the morning.”

  Marion bobbed out a quick curtsey to the group and a hard look at Noah before she slipped from the room. It left him wondering even more what had happened in the span of a few short days that she would so desperately want his help… seemingly need his help. And why being needed by Marion Hawthorne was such a pleasant prospect.

  ***

  “Psst!”

  Noah turned on his heel to look around the dark hallway.

  “Lord Woodbury!”

  Marion peeked her head around the corner of the doorway a bit further. He nodded when their eyes met and she skittered away from the door so she wouldn’t be seen. The room was dark except for the one candle she’d dared to light. Sheets covered the furniture and the fireplace was long cold and unused. Though the servants didn’t seem to pay much attention to the neglected sitting room, she couldn’t take any chances.

  “I’m glad I found you.” Noah’s voice was low as he shut the door noiselessly behind him. “I’ve been looking for quite some time.”

  She nodded. “I’m sorry about that. I tried to hide in a place where I’d see you leaving the library after you shared port with my father and Mr. Lucas, but where I wouldn’t be caught. This room was the only option.”

  Noah looked around them. “How long have you been here?”

  “For over an hour,” she confessed, stretching her neck and massaging the tight muscles behind it.

  Standing with her head cocked around the doorway was most uncomfortable. To her surprise, Noah mumbled something that sounded like “drive a man mad”, then turned away to walk to the fireplace. The candle that flickered restlessly on the small escritoire by the window barely illuminated his face.

  “My apologies, Marion,” he said. “I tried to break away sooner, but Lucas and your father seem to enjoy the sounds of their own voices immensely. Then I had to sneak back inside after I finally managed to say my farewells.”

  Despite her worries, Marion giggled at the observation. Noah was very much right. Her father had never known the virtue of a quiet moment, and since she’d arrived at Toppleton Square she had been haunted by the grating tones of Josiah Lucas’s voice.

  Noah turned from the window to look at her with a cocked eyebrow. “But I’m sure you didn’t ask me to find you to discuss your father’s talkative ways, did you?”

  Her mouth suddenly dry, Marion reached behind her to grip the covered back of a high chair. “No.”

  He stepped a bit closer with a curious tilt of his head. “Then why did you ask me to meet you in private?”

  Her thoughts raced. What right did she have to drag this man… this near-stranger, into her humiliating problems? Then again, he was her only hope. Part of her desperately wanted to trust Noah Jordan, to believe he could help her out of the situation her father had cast her into.

  She glanced down at the carpet with unseeing eyes. “It’s a bit awkward.”

  “We’ve become friends, haven’t we, Marion?” Noah asked, his voice husky in the darkness.

  “As much as two people could be in such a short time.” She didn’t dare to look into his blue eyes for fear he’d see her tremble. “I consider you a friend.”

  He cleared his throat as if uncomfortable, then continued, “Then tell me what’s happened as you might tell any friend.”

  She finally dared to look up and found him staring at her. He seemed to be closer, though she hadn’t heard him move. His bright eyes shown in the dim candlelight. They held her captive as if he’d woven a spell around her.

  Taking a deep breath, she blurted out. “I want you to ruin me.”

  Chapter Five

  Noah nearly choked at her blunt request. He staggered back. “What?”

  Marion’s face flamed red as her hand came up to cover her mouth. The very same mouth he’d been contemplating kissing just a few moments before. God’s teeth, now she was offering him the chance to do that and much, much more. His treacherous body grew heavy with just the thought.

  “I’m sorry.” With a little sob, she turned away from him. “I didn’t mean to blurt it out like that. I should explain.”

  She took several long breaths before peeking over her shoulder at him. The distress on her face softened his heart.

  “Go ahead,” he encouraged her gently.

  “Not ruin me exactly,” she said. “I only want my father and Josiah Lucas to believe you’ve taken my virtue.”

  Noah didn’t like where this discussion was going at all. “Why?”

  She hesitated and her gaze fluttered downward.

  “You know why.”

  He let out a low growl. So, his accusation had been correct. Somehow he’d hoped he was wrong about Walter Hawthorne, that the man wouldn’t go through with such a distasteful arrangement without his daughter’s consent. But Noah’s instincts were almost always correct, they had been honed by years of spying.

  Damn her father. What kind of man would submit his own child to the lecherous attentions of an old man?

  “Marion.”

  She shook her head, though she didn’t move away from him as he reached for her. Though it was entirely inappropriate, he wanted to comfort her, to feel her warm skin against his own and her pulse beat through her veins.

  “You were right about my father.” Her voice barely squeaked past her throat. “He’s arranging for a marriage between Josiah Lucas and me.”

  As she lifted her stinging eyes to Noah’s kind face, Marion briefly considered telling him the whole truth. Including the part about Josiah wanting to ‘taste’ her before they were wed. She took a breath to do so when Noah touched her hand. Electricity seemed to crackle between them.

  No, she couldn’t confess the most humiliating part of her father’s scheme. She couldn’t look into Noah’s beautiful eyes and tell him she was to be Josiah Lucas’s whore before she was his wife. If she did, he’d never again look at her as he was at that moment.

  “I can’t marry him, Noah… Lord Woodbury.”

  He caught her upper arm with a gentle grip. “I want you to call me Noah.”

  With a shiver, Marion looked up at him, her brown eyes soft with unshed tears. He couldn’t tell her how much he longed to hear her say his name again. How he wanted to throw propriety to the wind and have her call it out as he kissed her, touched her… ruined her in reality the way she asked him to ruin her for show.

  “Why don’t you want to marry Josiah Lu
cas?”

  “How can you ask me that?” she gasped, her voice filled with indignation.

  He smiled at her strong response. “Because I need to know you’ve thought this through, Miriam. Once you’ve been ruined, pretended or not, that act cannot be undone.”

  She nodded. “I could never marry him. The thought makes me… sick. He’s too old for me. And even if he weren’t, I don’t like him.”

  “But he has money.”

  “That’s unimportant to me,” she said, her tone just a touch haughty. He’d obviously hit upon a tender subject for her.

  “People always say that, Marion, until they have none,” he pointed out gently.

  He wagered she’d never done without. Her fashionable wardrobe spoke volumes about that subject.

  Her eyes narrowed. “So you won’t help me?”

  “I never said that.” He stepped a bit closer. “It’s a significant decision for us both.”

  She clenched one hand into a fist at her side. “I’m not a ninny, Noah! I know what I’m asking.”

  “Then tell me,” he said. “Where will you go if I help you? Once you’re ruined and you’ll never be able to make a match, where will you run? Or do you think your father will happily allow you to live with him indefinitely?”

  She opened and shut her mouth and her pale face answered his question. Noah shook his head.

  “I won’t leave you to a life on the street. I’ve seen too many good women whose lives and dreams were destroyed by men who took what you’re offering me.”

  “I didn’t think…” She took a step toward him. Now they were only a few feet apart. He could smell the soft peachy scent of her skin even from a distance. “I never thought you would care what happened to me… after.”

  That comment stung him more than he wanted to admit. “What kind of man do you think I am?”

  “A rake,” she whispered.

  Noah winced. She had him there. He was a rake. He’d taken immense pleasure in many women without giving much thought to their future. But he had never, not in England nor on the continent, taken a woman’s innocence. He’d never condemned a woman to a life on the streets or in shame.