He was not sure what word to use. Normally he would not even talk about this with a woman, lady or whore. His utter contentment at the moment permitted it.
“To take care of fairness?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you for that.”
“Only that? Not for keeping my word?”
“Oh. Yes. Of course. Thank you for that too.”
He laughed, and she did too.
“Inconvenient however, as you said,” she added.
He flipped her onto her back and rose on one arm so he could look at her. He traced around her neck, then along the side of one breast with his fingertips. “You are far more than passable. You should know that. I am not lying to flatter you.”
Her lids lowered.
He continued his strokes. The way the light showed her form captivated him. “What are you afraid of? It is in you all the time when you are with me. I sense it trying to interfere with your contentment even now.”
She looked up at him but did not answer.
“Are you in fear of your safety? Are you . . . misused in some way?” He sensed that she yearned to confide. “If you are, I can help you. You would be amazed how much influence a duke has.”
“I would not be surprised. I assume your power is untold.”
“Let us just say that people listen to us. I do not like to think of you living in fear of an abusive relative or someone who uses threats to—” To have his way with you. He did not know why that notion entered his head. Perhaps the way she’d embraced the freedom of the passion tonight had planted the idea that she might not be inexperienced so much as normally unwilling.
“No man is having his way with me,” she said evenly. “Not now. Except you. Tonight.”
The tonight sounded clearly. Only tonight.
“I have not had my way with you. Remember?”
“Close.”
“I assure you, close is not nearly the same. Release me from my promise, and I will gladly show you what I mean.”
“That would be . . . unwise.” He sensed she almost said something more affirmative. Her brow puckered again. “You mean it was unpleasant for you? I did not realize it would be.”
He laughed and gave her a quick kiss. “It was very pleasant. However, also imperfect because it was incomplete.”
“You expect perfection? Dukes have high standards.”
“There is no reason to do something if you don’t do it well. I was taught that by my father. He had other somethings in mind, of course.”
“Ducal somethings, I suppose.”
“All kinds of somethings. Just not this something. At least I don’t think so. I will have to ponder that, though. It never before occurred to me that it was a sly exhortation to sensual perfection along with the other somethings. If so, my admiration for the man increases tenfold.”
He settled alongside her and tucked her close. After a moment of awkward stiffness, she relaxed into him.
“You are entrancing when deprived of your armor, shepherdess.”
“I thought my name was Alice. And I expect any woman is more entrancing naked than clothed.”
“Oddly enough, that is not true. Many are too aware of themselves when naked. Too closed and cautious. You on the other hand are free and revealing.”
She turned and propped herself up on her crossed forearms so she looked down at him. “And what did I reveal other than my body?”
He stroked her face. “That you hide a sweet heart behind barriers created by your fear.” He eased her face down and kissed her. “You do not have to be afraid of me. If you trusted me in this tonight, you should know you can trust me in anything.”
Her expression softened into mild astonishment.
He sat and reached for his coat. He felt in the pocket for a velvet bag, then laid down with her again.
He pulled her back down on her back. He slipped the locket out of the pouch. It was not really appropriate to give her this, but he wanted to. He did not think she received many gifts of any kind in her life.
He set the locket on her chest. Her lids lowered and she looked at it. She picked it up and held it high in the moonlight. Silver flecks danced on the stone’s facets.
She appeared confused.
“That is for you,” he said.
“Payment?”
“There is nothing to pay you for other than a fine test of my honor.”
“I thought you said it was very pleasant.”
He laughed. He took the locket and set it back on her chest. “And it was. However, this is merely a little gift for a woman who has diverted a bored man. You can sell it if you want. It is given with affection but no conditions.”
She poked at the locket with a fingertip. “I should not take it.”
“I hope that you will.”
He wrapped her in an embrace and made himself comfortable. “Tomorrow I will bring you home. And this place you have—whatever you fear there will get better once it is seen that a lord cares for you.”
The suggestion broke her peace. “I cannot have you see where I live. My situation is too poor. I do not want you to see it.”
“Then not yet, if you insist.” He kissed her crown to soothe her. “However, I will bring you a few streets away so you are not traveling through town alone. Do not argue. I will not hear any objection.”
* * *
She felt him falling asleep. Even after he did, his arm remained over her. She found its weight possessive.
The locket stayed where he had put it, sparkling on her chest above her breasts. Expensive. Tasteful. She could probably live for six months on the money she could get for it. She might have to.
His embrace comforted her. Protected her. It kept at bay her true situation for a long time. Eventually, however, the danger he presented slid back into her drowsy mind.
It is given with affection. Did he mean that? How could he have affection for her? He did not even know her.
A lord cares for you. He would see her in gaol if he knew what he cared for.
Not yet. That implied more meetings. More pleasure. More entanglement.
Suddenly she was wide awake, hearing his breath in her ear, feeling every spot where their bodies touched. A profound yearning spread until she ached. If only . . .
She caressed his face as gently as possible so she would not wake him. Then she eased out of his arms.
* * *
The sun woke him, not Miles. Its early silver light streamed in the window.
He stared at the ceiling, then felt the carpet beneath him. Memories from the night flooded his mind. He turned with a smile to where he expected a sleeping woman within reach.
A single bright sunbeam broke onto the carpet. A stone sparkled. The locket lay where Alice should be.
He stared at it.
He stood. Hands on hips he gazed around a library now devoid of any evidence of her. He might have dreamed it all.
He picked up the locket and shoved it in a pocket. Then he cursed loudly and profanely.
Chapter Eight
Amanda worked the journal accounts at a table in the club’s library while the ladies planned the next issue of Parnassus. She eavesdropped shamelessly. She listened harder when the discussion veered off into tangents concerning society. She knew none of the people mentioned, but she still enjoyed the gossip.
After half an hour, one topic did touch on names she knew.
“I am told that bill on penal reform in the House of Lords is finding more support,” Lady Farnsworth said.
“I am not surprised,” Mrs. Galbreath said. “Brentworth took it up. With his name attached, many will give it better consideration.”
“Let us not forget it was not he who conceived it.” Lady Farnsworth smiled meaningfully. “Rather, one of his oldest friends did. Langford spoke most eloquently on its need, I am told.”
“Perhaps you should not take all the credit for Langford being moved to do so. Your essay was published almost a year ago.”
> On the mention of that name, Amanda flushed. She hunched over her desk lest someone glance over and notice her hot face.
She had not yet reconciled herself to her behavior four nights ago. Try as she might to castigate herself, the only regret she could summon was that she would never know such intimacy again. Her emotions remained wistful and deep. Memories emerged throughout the day that affected her mind and soul.
“There is evidence he took my words much to heart. Much evidence. He saw himself in my description, I am sure. Who knows what benefits to the realm and to himself will be wrought over time.”
“Untold benefits, I am sure. However, it is possible that something else inspired him on this bill,” Lady Grace said.
“I am at a loss to think of anything else.”
“Maybe he knows a criminal whose punishment he found excessive.”
Amanda almost broke her pen point. Ink splattered over the account page. She blotted quickly and pretended to be very busy indeed.
“He is a hedonist and irresponsible but he does not cavort with criminals,” Lady Farnsworth said with a chortle. “Heavens, what a notion. Have you some information of which the rest of us are unaware? If not, even implying such a thing is rash.”
“I merely say that perhaps we should not assume our little journal changes a man’s character too completely.”
“Is his character so changed as that?” Mrs. Dalton asked.
Lady Grace did not reply at once. Amanda wondered if she would. She sneaked a glance over at the group. Lady Grace was indulging in a cake.
“If you must know,” Lady Grace said, “he has not been seen with a woman in some time. Weeks.”
“That is not very long.”
“It is for him.”
“Perhaps he is being discreet.”
“Langford is never discreet. He flaunts his affairs. He takes his mistresses to dinner parties and drapes them in jewels.”
“It may just be another small change in his character.” Amanda recognized the soft voice of the rarely vocal Mrs. Clark. “The discretion, I mean. Not the—that is to say, he may still enjoy female company, only not so publicly.”
“He needs to marry, of course,” Lady Farnsworth said. “One more duty that he has neglected. If he should perish without a son, the title will go to that brother of his who is almost a hermit.”
“Too distracted to recognize himself in an essay designed to scold him, you mean,” Mrs. Galbreath said.
The ladies all laughed. Except Lady Farnsworth, who tapped something for attention. “Enough of this. Let us finish. Of the two topics for Mrs. Dalton’s history essay, who favors the investigation into whether there were female druids?”
A little vote ensued; then Mrs. Galbreath ended the meeting by reciting the calendar for the next issue’s various tasks. When the ladies dispersed, Amanda felt a presence by her side.
Mrs. Galbreath looked over her shoulder. “I can’t believe how quick you are at this, Miss Waverly. You put me to shame.”
“It is easy for me to be fast. Your accounts are in excellent order.” She really made quick with it so the tradesmen would be paid in a timely manner. When she’d first begun, a few accounts had been in arrears. She felt bad for those who had to wait on their pay due to carelessness.
She also wanted these accounts up to date because she probably would be leaving them to Mrs. Galbreath soon. Or to some replacement for herself that the club would find.
“If you are finished, would you come with me? I want to show you something.”
Amanda put away her ink and pen, then followed Mrs. Galbreath from the library. They went up the stairs. Mrs. Galbreath opened a door and led the way into a bedchamber.
“Lady Farnsworth has confided that she worries about your domestic situation,” Mrs. Galbreath said. “She pictures you in some sad room with no heat.”
“I have heat.” When I buy fuel. She had never told Lady Farnsworth where or how she lived. The good woman had surmised the truth merely using her imagination.
“The duchess suggested that I invite you to live here instead. This chamber would be yours alone. No one would interfere with you and your activities. We do not seek to make a child of you, or place you under supervision.”
Amanda had not even considered that they might try to do that. Mrs. Galbreath perhaps spoke from her own experience, however.
Amanda strolled around the chamber. Although of modest size, she thought it was perfect. The appointments possessed quality but not luxury. The prospect from the windows allowed a view of the activity and trees on the square. The tiny dressing room could hold a wardrobe far bigger than her own.
It reminded her of her chamber at school, only larger and nicer by far. She pictured herself reading in the chair come winter, facing a fine fire. She imagined herself sleeping in the bed with the drapes drawn closed. She might even have Mrs. Galbreath for a friend if she lived here. Or at least one or two of the servants. She might have a real home.
Her heart ached to say yes. She hated all the reasons she could not.
“You and the duchess are too kind. I think, however, that I will remain where I am. It is closer to Lady Farnsworth, for one thing. Not far off Leicester Square. I am moved by the generosity of this offer, and hope you will understand if I decline.”
“I told Clara—the duchess—that you prize your independence too much to relinquish it. I do understand, Miss Waverly. Please know you are welcome here should you ever change your mind.”
Amanda followed Mrs. Galbreath out of the chamber, looking back one last time before she closed the door.
* * *
Gabriel checked his pocket watch, then put it away. Beside him, Stratton did the exact same thing at the same time.
“She is fine. Your son is too,” Gabriel said after he called for cards. “We have at least an hour before I can let you go back.”
He had dragged Stratton to this gaming hall at the new mother’s request. I beg you to take him away for an evening, her note had said. Kidnap him if necessary. His constant watch is driving me mad.
“Should she need me—”
“She only needs you to stay away so she has a few hours of peace.”
“I refuse to believe she told you that. I will ask her, and if you lied so you could have company to relieve your boredom—”
“Has fatherhood made you an idiot? She did not want you to know. Nor would you if you had not thwarted every manner of persuasion I could summon. Informing you of her request was a confidence between friends and you are sworn to secrecy.”
“I did not swear a damned thing.”
“Then do it now, so I do not risk having her angry with me. She scares me, to be honest. I have a list of people whom I never want as enemies and she is high on it.”
Stratton laughed at that. “I confess she is high on mine too.”
“Then swear it, so you don’t do something that gets us both on her bad side.”
Stratton threw in his cards.
“I was not joking. Swear it. Or at least promise.”
Stratton sighed dramatically. “I promise on my word as a gentleman that I will not let her know you revealed her plan.”
My word as a gentleman. The phrase brought forth memories that he had hoped to escape tonight. Irritation spiked immediately. The shepherdess had disappeared into the night again. He had thought she would not this time.
He did not care for being treated like an expendable acquaintance, especially after showing heroic restraint with her.
She had left the locket too. He grudgingly acknowledged that may have shown good character. If she intended no further contact with him, that was. In such a situation, many women would think a gift was a gift and take it.
Still, it also displayed a lack of gratitude, it seemed to him. Or not. He couldn’t decide. He had a difficult time thinking about it clearly due to the way the entire episode had left him . . . dissatisfied in many ways.
An image came to him, of her body
naked and pale in the moonlight. Of her astonished ecstasy and her parted dark lips when she cried out her release. Of the way she held nothing back for a brief spell before her fears closed her again.
What caused that shadow? Something real. He worried about her and her safety even though he felt a fool for doing so. She had rejected his help. He should forget about her.
“What are you pondering? That frown is quite deep,” Stratton said, looking over while the dealer pushed winnings his way.
“I am wondering why you keep winning and I keep losing.”
“Perhaps I live right, and you do not.”
“I have no reason to believe that living right brings benefits, so I don’t think that is the reason.”
“Have you tried it recently and been disappointed?”
“Let us say I have stuck one foot into the lake of righteous living and found the water very cold.”
It was Stratton’s turn to ponder. “Give me a few minutes and I will understand.”
“I don’t think so. I have told you nothing.”
“Since it was you doing the telling, you told me a lot.” He waved the dealer away. He propped his elbow on the table and his head in his hand and examined Gabriel.
Gabriel refused to suffer it. He called the dealer back and gestured for another hand. “What nonsense. As if you know me that well, or anyone that well, that you can just look at them and determine what they meant by so cryptic a—”
“It has to do with a woman, of course. It usually does with you.”
Gabriel tried to ignore him and picked up his cards. Just his luck, it was a bad hand. The odds of winning were all but nil.
“If you were trying to live right where a woman was concerned, I assume that means you did not seduce her even if you thought you could.”
Gabriel threw in two cards and received two more.
“Since there has been no gossip about your adventures recently, I assume that means this is a quiet pursuit. Your shepherdess?”
He studied his cards even though he already knew he had more than twenty-one.
“I see I hit my mark on that.”
“You do not see anything, let alone that.”
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