Lord of Sin

by Madeline Hunter

  His eyes blinked several times, as if her words were stirring him to life. “You do appear to have thought it through, which is admirable. However, bear with me while I make sure I comprehend the details. When you say enough, may I ask, enough for what?”

  “To enable us to let a house that can hold both the studio and our living quarters.”

  “You intend to move the studio to London? You intend to live here permanently?”

  “If we have to move somewhere, why not London? There are far more publishers here than in Edinburgh. The equipment is making its way here by wagons. That cost a pretty penny, but there was no choice.”

  He took that in and nodded slowly, as if his wits needed a moment to accept the logic of it. She had made sure it sounded very logical, however. She did not want him probing. It would never do for him to know the real reasons they had come to London.

  “I am understanding now, Miss Cameron. Forgive me, the surprise of your arrival, while it gives me untold joy, has also dulled my mind slightly.” He smiled blankly. “Just one more thing, if you will. A minor point. When you say make do here, what do you mean by here?”

  “Here.” She gestured to the room’s ceiling and beyond.

  “Here here?”

  The poor man really was addled. “Hear, hear, sir. Yes, here.”

  “This house?”

  “I promise we will not be a big intrusion.”

  He snapped to the alertness she knew. He began to walk toward her, realized that revealed the scandalous stone relief, and with some vexation reclaimed his spot in front of it.

  “Miss Cameron, while I would be honored to have all of you as guests, that simply—”

  “We will use chambers up with the servants. Truly, you will not even know we are here.”

  “The servants are all male. I remind you of the fox and hen metaphor you used when first we met.” He puffed with the arrogance she knew too well. “I will make arrangements at a hotel, or take a house for you until the funds pay.”

  “I cannot allow you to incur such an expense. However, I can see that I have been too bold. I did not realize that when you said you would assist us, you meant only if it did not inconvenience you. We will leave, and make do elsewhere.”

  She rose and turned to her sisters. “One of us will have to sell herself tonight, to earn the funds for lodging. Do I have a volunteer, or should we pull straws?”

  “That will be enough of that, woman.” The command barked out from the stone relief. “Sit down.”

  She did.

  Lyndale was thoroughly awake now. “How dare you imply that my desire to set you up elsewhere is shirking my responsibility. It is my responsibility that moves me to suggest it, not my own convenience. This is a household of men. It would be highly improper for any of you to sleep even one night under this roof.”

  “I am mature enough to serve as chaperone, so that is not true.”

  “My reputation requires that you have a chaperone.”

  “Don’t you mean that my reputation requires I have a chaperone? If so, I disagree, since, as I said, I am a mature—”

  “I mean exactly what I said.”

  “You must be very particular about your reputation, then. However, Jilly is with us. She fell asleep in the kitchen when we first arrived and is still there. She can be my chaperone.”

  “She is a servant, and therefore in no position to lay down rules for you. She will not do.”

  “Actually, Jilly is not a servant. She is our aunt,” Anne said.

  That left Lyndale speechless. Bride rushed into the breach. “Jilly will chaperone me, and I will chaperone my sisters. Everyone’s reputation will be safe. More so than if you keep us in a house that you let, or in a hotel, I daresay.”

  “Keep you?”

  “Someone may see it that way. Even if they did not, I could not allow you to lay out funds in that way. I am even of two minds about accepting your hospitality, but see no alternative.”

  He looked like he wanted to throttle her.

  Then his gaze altered. Not much, but enough. In an instant she knew that she had lost the upper hand. Suddenly Lyndale the Seducing Scoundrel was again eyeing a rabbit.

  “Very well, Miss Cameron. I have done my best to offer arrangements that would protect all of you. Have it your way. I wash my hands of any damage to your reputation. Your aunt Jilly can be your chaperone, for as much good as it will do.”

  CHAPTER

  TEN

  Ewan retreated to the library, called for the steward, and gave instructions that the guests were to be accommodated.

  Cockburn, the steward, was a prim, pinch-faced man of middle years, average height, and thin pale hair. His eyes vaguely revealed his distaste for the notion that these barely presentable young women would be guests of an earl, but he kept his face impassive.

  “There are the chambers on the fourth floor,” he said, intimating with the distant location that housing them close to the servants would be appropriate. “Three have been furnished already.”

  “The aunt will share with the youngest one.” Ewan expected trouble with Mary.

  Actually, he expected nothing but trouble with all of them. This invasion was going to disrupt what had promised to be a wonderful home. Worse, he was already contemplating the delicious temptation of having Bride nearby and available.

  He tried to feel guilty about that, but without much success.

  He would have to find a way to remove them quickly. He would visit his solicitor tomorrow and determine if the funds could be made to pay more quickly. If not, he would offer to loan Bride an advance amount against the income.

  “If the aunt and the youngest share, and two others do not, that leaves one to be accommodated elsewhere, my lord. There is the red suite on the second floor. It is already presentable.”

  Ewan thought about that. The red suite was tucked around the corner from his own chambers.

  “We could put the aunt there,” Cockburn suggested. “Then Miss Cameron could either share with the youngest, or another sister could.”

  Ewan gazed at the wall of mottled bindings awaiting replacement. Yes, Jilly should use the red suite. The Earl of Lyndale knew that was the way to do it.

  However, Ewan McLean pictured Bride in that red suite, lying on the bed with her garments half off, her eyes moist with pleasure. Desire slashed through him, obliterating the earl’s existence in a second.

  “I think, Cockburn, that it makes the most sense to put Miss Cameron in the red suite. The aunt has never been in a city, and will want the company of her nieces. As the eldest, and a mature woman, Miss Cameron is the most likely be comfortable away from the others.”

  “As you wish, my lord.”

  They returned to the drawing room together.

  “Ladies, Cockburn will show you your rooms. There are no women here to settle you in, I am afraid. We will see about finding maids soon.”

  “That will not be necessary,” Bride said. “We will do for one another, as we always have.”

  Cockburn was so shocked he all but swooned. He led the way out.

  As the Cameron sisters filed out of the drawing room, Bride favored Ewan with a smile that had him imagining those deep pink lips doing wonderful, scandalous things to him.

  “I promise that you will not even know we are here,” she said, pausing as the parade moved on. “I daresay you will not even see us.”

  “I daresay I will. The steward will inform you when meals are served, and the other routines of the household. I am not always present at dinner, but on occasion I expect I will be.”

  “We will take our meals in our rooms. Truly, there is no reason for—”

  “You thought to use my home as an inn? It will not work quite that way, Bride. If I am to play the welcoming host, you will play the gracious guest.”

  She flushed. A spark of caution entered her eyes. Evidently, she had actually expected him to allow her to live here, but remain invisible.

  “The sta
te rooms are closed off except when I entertain, but the other rooms are always yours to use,” he said. “I ask, however, that this private drawing room not be frequented by your sisters.”

  She glanced past him to the stone relief. “I assure you we will never enter again.”

  “Only your sisters are prohibited. You may visit anytime you choose.”

  “I am sure I will never so choose.”

  “Pity. I will keep my art collection here. There are many items you would find interesting.”

  “If you think so, you misunderstand my character.”

  “Not all are of an amorous nature. My collection of etchings and engravings is one of the best in Britain. As for your character, I have only the highest estimation of it. I am not a man who thinks badly of a woman because she is passionate. Quite the opposite.”

  She pulled herself into a tower of indignation. “It is inappropriate for you to speak of that with me. Considering your late but ultimate restraint in Scotland, I assumed that I would be spared any further advances. If your honor checked you there, I expect you to be doubly honorable toward a guest in your home.”

  “Then you miscalculated badly, my dear.”

  Assuming the crisp chill of an iceberg, she turned and floated out of the room.

  Ewan examined the Roman relief. As he gave a corner a nudge to straighten it, he pictured Bride catching up with Cockburn and learning that her chambers were separate from the others, and wonderfully convenient to his.

  He wondered if she would present much of a challenge this time. A part of him counted on quick capitulation, but another part rather hoped the game would be more interesting.

  It had been a stupid interlude of confusion that stopped him in Scotland, not false notions of honor. Now, here she was again, a gift from the gods. Or a temptation from the devil.

  “They will be needing new wardrobes,” Michael said. He was busy at a crate, unrolling a statue of Priapus from its shroud of cloth.

  Ewan ignored him. He eyed the wall in front of him, deciding where to hang his framed engraved print by Agostino Veneziano that depicted Mars and Venus busy on a bed.

  “It will reflect badly on you if they go about town in those old dresses,” Michael said.

  “I hear you, damn it. I will attend to it shortly.” As soon as he figured out how to attend to it. Even if they soon lived elsewhere, the Cameron sisters would be associated with him and required presentable garments. He needed to impose on a woman to dress them, he supposed.

  The problem was, he did not have female friends who owed him favors of that sort. Most of his married friends had wives who barely tolerated his presence in their husbands’ lives. None of those ladies would look kindly on his request for aid.

  “Should we be canceling the party you are planning?”

  “Absolutely not. If they are still in residence, which I hope they are not, I will tell the Cameron sisters that they are to retire after dinner and not show their faces until morning.”

  “But their reputations—”

  “I warned Miss Cameron about that. She would not listen. Besides, everyone will learn soon enough that my house guests will not be present at the party.”

  Michael heaved the statue up and placed it on its pedestal near the window drapes. He gazed down at the erect lower member of the armless figure. “Maybe we should wait with these. What if one of the sisters—”

  “I gave instructions they are not to enter this room. Proceed, and stop trying to turn me into a boring guardian. I am not ignorant of my responsibilities to the Cameron sisters, but I will not be ruled by overwrought delicacy.”

  With a shrug, Michael started prying open the other crate.

  Ewan set about placing his portfolios in the new cabinet he had procured. Michael’s harping about the sisters’ reputations played in his mind, provoking concerns quite different from Michael’s.

  He caught his manservant’s eye. “You have spoken with the others?”

  “As you instructed. Every man here knows that if he touches one of them, you will call him out and kill him. But first you will cut off his balls and feed them to pigs and then carve out his heart and—”

  “You repeated me literally?”

  “I could not improve on your eloquence. That young one will be disappointed that all the smiles are gone when she comes down for dinner.”

  Reference to Mary and how much she liked men’s smiles dampened Ewan’s mood. He would have to have a chat with Bride and alert her about the young men of London. He might even have to warn a few off, just to emphasize that his guests were not to be trifled with. Hell, if Mary was not watched closely, he could really be calling men out.

  His enjoyment in setting out the collection disappeared in a snap. He was going to have to turn into a boring guardian after all, or face a disaster.

  Michael approached with a hammer. Ewan handed him the Veneziano and pointed to a spot where direct sunlight would not damage it. Then he went to his writing table, sat down, and wrote a brief letter.

  “These chambers are perfectly charming, Cockburn.” Bride stood in the center of a beautifully appointed bedroom, admiring the fresh hangings and drapes in rose toile. She noted the unblemished nature of the furniture. Everything looked completely unused.

  Michael had explained that the unfinished state of the house resulted from a recent move, and indeed, their hackney driver had first taken them to an address some distance away.

  Bride had not expected a hovel, but the size and grandeur of this house awed her. The crisp, expensive elegance of the furnishings only made it more impressive.

  Cockburn stood aside as baggage was carried in by two servants.

  Mary trailed behind them. “I do not see why I have to share with Jilly when Anne gets her own room.”

  “You are the youngest, that is one reason why,” Bride said. A long look in Mary’s direction from one of the servants provided the other reason. “Also, Joan and I will be sharing, too, and our room is not even as large as yours, so you have no cause for complaint.”

  Cockburn raised one gray-gloved hand. “Actually, Miss Cameron, a separate chamber awaits you. If your sisters can manage, I will take you there now.”

  “That is not necessary. I will be fine here.”

  “My lord gave instructions. As your host, he took the liberty to assure your comfort.”

  Bride followed the steward down the corridor. To her surprise, he led her down the main stairs, down another corridor, around a corner, and to double doors near the end of the building. He opened the doors to reveal a cozy sitting room, then showed her to a spacious bedroom and dressing room beyond.

  The luxury of the chambers made the expensive appointments in her sisters’ rooms appear quaint. A princess would be at home here.

  “There is a back stairs nearby that will take you to your sisters more quickly than the main ones,” Cockburn explained as he checked the fireplace. “You can use either, of course, as you prefer.”

  She should find a way to refuse this arrangement. It did not seem quite right that she should sleep here, or be surrounded by such comforts. She also suspected that Lyndale’s own chambers were not far away, and their last conversation had her worried.

  Since he had aborted his seduction in Scotland, she had assumed there would be no repetition of such behavior. Furthermore, common decency demanded that he not importune a guest. Her deliberations and conclusions regarding all of that had allayed gnawing concerns about asking for his help.

  Now she worried that she had indeed miscalculated.

  “I would prefer to stay with my sister.”

  “The earl would prefer that you make your home here.”

  “I see. Yes. Well, it is his house, so I suppose he gets to decide.”

  “I think so, yes.” Cockburn walked toward the door. “Your belongings will be up shortly. Someone will alert you an hour in advance of dinner. Now, if you will excuse me, the household is still unsettled and I should attend to some m
atters.”

  After he left, Bride ventured a closer inspection of the little palace she would use. The bed was high and wide and draped in a luscious jewel-red jacquard duvet. Patterns of deep blue and red covered the heavily upholstered chairs. Lovely restrained carvings decorated the mahogany furniture.

  The sitting room contained a sapphire chaise longue and more chairs. The dressing room was larger than the sitting room. Two huge wardrobes covered one of its walls.

  She opened one and pictured her paltry wardrobe in it. She had never felt poor before, but right now, in this house and in these chambers, she did.

  It affected how she saw everything, especially Lyndale’s advances. In Scotland she could pretend they had not been insulting. Here there could be no illusions.

  A man who lived like this saw women like her as playthings to be used until a newer one caught his eye. Undoubtedly, a city like London was full of pretty toys.

  Abandoning the rooms, she found the back stairs and hurried up to her sisters. They were all in Mary’s room, admiring the view of a garden to the rear of the house.

  “I do not think I will mind sharing with Jilly after all,” Mary said. “This is the nicest chamber by far. Why, it is almost as large as our dining room at home.”

  An awkward silence fell. So did Joan and Anne’s faces. There was no longer a dining room at home. They had no home. Nor could this be their new one.

  “Where will you be sleeping, Bride?” Mary asked.

  “Below. Well, we are here. Now we must make good on our plan.”

  “Can’t we enjoy the city first?” Mary said. “I want to see the things we read about in the newspapers. The theaters and the zoo and such.”

  “You may do so if it can be arranged. I, however, must start seeking a position with an engraver at once, in order to establish an income. The sooner we leave this house, the better.”

  “I do not see why we cannot stay, if Lord Lyndale has permitted it. We could never afford such nice rooms on the earnings of engraving.”

  “Mary, we do not want to be beholden to this man. We dare not risk his involvement in our lives. Nor does he truly welcome us. He wanted to pack us off immediately. Enjoy playing the lady for a few days, but expect the visit to be brief.”