“It’s not doing my reputation any good for people to see the two of you arguing,” Gina said, impatience and perhaps a bit of embarrassment woven into her tone.
“You’re right,” she told her sister. “We should carry on.”
Five minutes hadn’t passed before another couple approached them. She recognized the couple. Mr. and Mrs. Drake Darling. While his wife had every right to be addressed as Lady Ophelia, when she had married her husband, she’d made it clear, with an announcement in the Times, she was casting aside any ties to the aristocracy. She was an equal with her husband. While some might have thought she was lowering herself in Society, it was quite obvious the lady had an elevated position at her husband’s side. After all, the owner of the Twin Dragons was known to be ridiculously wealthy, had been raised as an equal within the Greystone household, and was acknowledged as the Marquess of Rexton’s brother.
Darling removed his hat. “Lady Landsdowne. Miss Hammersley. I am led to understand there was a bit of trouble when you were at the Twin Dragons the other night. I’d like to extend a complimentary membership to you both to make up for the unpleasantness you suffered.”
Tillie jerked her attention to Rexton. Who had he told? What had he said?
As though reading her mind, he said quietly, “He doesn’t know the particulars.”
“Lord Evanston, however, has been banned from the club,” Darling added. “Hopefully, the canceling of his membership will put your mind at ease that you’ll not be bothered should you visit again.”
She knew Rexton had been responsible for the man’s ousting. But Evanston wasn’t the only friend Downie had in his pocket. “I appreciate that, but not everyone welcomes me.”
“Send word ’round when you’re of a mind to visit,” Mrs. Darling told her. “I’ll accompany you. Once it is seen you have my support, none will bother you within those walls.”
Darling chuckled. “No one wants to suffer my wife’s wrath. And within the Dragons, she is queen.”
“To your king,” Gina chirped.
“I am merely her dragon slayer.”
“And a fine one he is,” Mrs. Darling said, reaching out and squeezing his hand. “The past may shape us, Lady Landsdowne, but it need not control us or our destinies.”
Tillie found herself wondering what in Mrs. Darling’s past had shaped her. She’d met her years ago when she was Lady Ophelia. A haughtier woman she’d never known. Her marriage had changed her. Or perhaps there was more to it.
“My sister and I appreciate the offer of the membership and the accompaniment if needed. Although you may come to regret it, Mr. Darling. It seems Gina has considerable luck when it comes to games of chance.”
Unlike Tillie who was very close to losing today’s wager.
Darling smiled confidently, the grin of a man who knew he wasn’t going to lose, not in the end. “I’ll take the risk.”
They spoke for a few more minutes, nothing of any importance. When they went on their way, Rexton held up four fingers.
“Don’t gloat,” she ordered.
“Don’t be a sore loser.”
“You might not get the six.”
He got eight. The Duke and Duchess of Avendale, traveling in a cabriolet, visited with them for a while. They were followed by two lords the marquess had not arranged beforehand to approach them. Apparently, Gina was being noticed whether or not she realized it. Perhaps Tillie hadn’t needed to seek Rexton’s assistance after all, although she was hard-pressed to regret the decision.
As she watched the exchange, the ease with which her sister flirted, she felt an ache in her chest because Gina didn’t have a dozen swains swarming around her.
“There’ll be more.”
She glanced over at Rexton. Why was it he seemed to always know what was on her mind? Because he had a sister, because she had shared her hopes and dreams with him? She didn’t want him to be sensitive, understanding, kind. “You cheated.”
“I’d already confessed to doing so at cards when it was to my benefit. So you knew going in to this arrangement that I have no morals when it comes to gaining what I want.”
And he wanted her. That thought should not have pleased her so much. “You’re also impatient. I don’t see that one more night would have made such a difference. It would have simply increased the anticipation.”
“Any more anticipation and I’m likely to explode the first time you touch me.”
She was likely to do the same. Not that she was going to admit it. The man’s self-esteem was great enough as it was. “Are these gents viable candidates?”
“They’ll both inherit earldoms. Will that make your sister happy?”
She shook her head. “She’s too young to understand exactly what she needs. Unfortunately we don’t always realize what we need until we’ve gained what we don’t.”
“You’re speaking from experience.”
Not a question. A statement, filled with sadness. “I was a silly girl indeed.”
“Was he the only one who courted you?”
“The only one I cared about. My mother and I fought. She wanted me to marry a duke, to be higher up on the social ladder. But Downie was so dashing and so gentlemanly. I was quite swept away.”
“Did he make you laugh?”
It pleased her that he’d paid attention to her comments regarding what one should look for in a man. Because of that, she decided to be honest. “Not once. Our courting rituals don’t really allow us to get to know someone before we marry. A shame, really. I think the Nightingale Club exists because a lot of couples are unhappy.”
“But you got out of your unhappy arrangement.”
She nodded. “It cost me. It’s cost Gina. That I regret. I should have waited.”
“If you had, you wouldn’t need me now.”
She wasn’t quite certain that was true. She had the horrifying thought she’d always needed him, always would.
He leaned toward her, his voice low, seductive. “To be quite honest, while it makes me a cad, I’m rather glad you do. I spent a week striving to determine how best to apologize to you so I could have you back in my life. The need is mutual, Countess.”
He straightened, turned his attention back to Gina and her admirers, as though he hadn’t just delivered words that held the power to devastate her. As the air backed up in her lungs, Tillie didn’t know what to say, how to respond. Downie had needed her money, but she couldn’t claim he had ever needed her.
She was not going to fall under his spell. She was not going to read things into his words that were not meant. He needed her in his bed, but he didn’t need her. Yet she couldn’t quite dismiss the absolute gratefulness that had woven itself through his voice and actions when he’d removed the mask and confirmed it was indeed she in the bedchamber with him. His obvious joy had thrilled her, elevated her self-esteem that had been beaten down for far too long.
He kept his horse beside hers as though there was no shame in being seen with her. But then he’d acted that way from the beginning. She’d assumed because he wanted to impress on Gina he wouldn’t be rude to her sister; but now she understood his actions spoke of his kindness and his own willingness to buck Society’s conventions. She was beginning to think even having his family approach today had more to do with her than Gina.
The gents finally departed, and they began making their way home. None of them spoke, each lost in their own thoughts she supposed. Her mind traveled to what was to come. She suspected his did as well. She could feel his gaze coming to bear on her time and time again, as though he were measuring her worth. Or perhaps he was calculating how long it would take him to divest her of her clothing.
When they reached the stables, he dismounted, strode over to her, and wrapped his hands around her waist. Tonight they would be at her waist with no cloth between them. She placed her hands on his shoulders. Slowly, he lifted her up, brought her down. But when her feet were firmly set on the ground, he didn’t release her. Rather he held her
gaze, seemed to be studying her, considering something.
“If I were a gentleman,” he finally said, “I would admit to cheating and forfeit the bet. For both our sakes, I’m damned glad I’m not. I’ll send a carriage ’round at half ten.”
“Eleven. Gina tends to stay up late. I want her abed before I leave, so she is unaware of my little outing.”
“As you wish.”
He released his hold on her, swung up onto his saddle, and was trotting away. She, too, was damned glad he was no gentleman.
Chapter 12
She wasn’t accustomed to having to sneak about her residence, but she didn’t want to awaken Gina, whose room was three down from her own. The possibility of being caught, however, added a tantalizing edge to the night, even though discovery was incredibly slight as all the servants were abed. When she’d arranged to be found kissing the footman, she’d been nervous, terrified that her plan wouldn’t work.
She wasn’t terrified tonight. She wasn’t even nervous. It was true the night might not go as she’d planned, as she hoped, might be naught but disappointment and leave her to face further unsatisfactory nights but the number was limited. She’d been wise enough to ensure their association ended on her terms. She could suffer through anything for a specified period of time. Her marriage to Downie had taught her that.
Slipping out the front door, she locked it behind her. The gleaming black carriage was unmarked as were the driver and footman, neither wearing livery, but rather dressed as vagrants with heavy black coats. Battered broad-brimmed hats shaded their faces from the glow emanating from the nearby lampposts. The footman opened the carriage door and handed her up. She was halfway through when another hand took hold and assisted her to the bench. The dark, earthy fragrance of the other passenger calmed her nerves as nothing else might.
“I didn’t think you’d come personally,” she said.
“I wasn’t about to leave your safe delivery to others.”
His rich, deep voice washed over her. It was ridiculous how much she enjoyed the smallest things about him. His fragrance, his voice, his presence. His care for her safety.
“I take it you managed to slip out with your sister unaware of your departure,” he said as the coach lurched into motion.
“She’s a sound sleeper once she drifts off. I do need to be back before she awakens.”
“I’ll have you back hours before anyone stirs.”
It wasn’t going to be a very long night then. She’d expected to be in his company until near dawn. Shoving back the disappointment, she looked out the window, or wanted to. Curtains obstructed her view. Such a clandestine adventure. She wouldn’t have thought to draw the curtains. She supposed she should be grateful he had more experience at these sorts of situations than she did. But she was hard-pressed to see it in a favorable light, to know she was one of many.
“You seem to be quite skilled at carrying on an illicit encounter,” she said. “I suppose you’ve brought a good number of women to your residence.”
“You’ll be the first.”
His answer surprised her. She tried to read the truth of his words in his face but he was lost to the shadows. She could barely make out his form, which was a bit of a disappointment. She did so enjoy looking at him. “I’m honored.”
“You should be.”
“Why no one before me?” She wasn’t quite certain what she wanted him to say. That she was special. That she was different. That she mattered.
“It complicates things. I generally take my pleasures at the Nightingale. The women visit the establishment for one reason, and I’m happy to accommodate.”
“The masks are a bit of a bother, though, aren’t they? Have you ever discovered yourself with a woman you didn’t fancy—once the mask was removed?”
“I have. Although it wasn’t so much I didn’t fancy her but rather I knew the taking of her would leave us both with regrets and a good measure of guilt.”
“Since the ladies make the selections, I’m certain she was disappointed.”
“No doubt, but revenge is a two-edged sword. It cuts both ways. And her selection of me was based on her wanting to hurt someone else.”
So he had some lines he wouldn’t cross, even in the pursuit of pleasure. She liked knowing that facet to his character. “Does it make you feel cheap? Standing there, waiting to be chosen?”
“Unlike the ladies, the gentlemen pay a hefty purse for membership. So, no, I do not feel at all cheap.”
She hadn’t been aware of that aspect to the club. It was no doubt necessary in order to maintain the place. There would be costs after all. She didn’t want to consider how much of her dowry might have gone to Downie’s membership.
“Do you not consider these ladies amoral?” she asked.
“I assume women have urges the same as men.”
She wondered what he’d think to know that before meeting him, she’d had very few. Now the ones she did have were distracting and unsettling. She was grateful for the mundane conversation. It kept her from reaching for him. “Why do you suppose it is that men are not flung aside when they engage in sordid behavior and yet ladies are? No one cares which men are standing around at the Nightingale, whether they be bachelors or husbands. Yet women must seek to hide their identity, must strive not to be caught.”
“Because women are so much better than us.”
“We’re not so different.”
“I beg to differ. We’ll compare our differences before we’re done and be glad of them.”
His grin flashed in the darkness. She almost laughed. Almost. Yes, their differences were one of the reasons she was here. Loneliness was a poor excuse when the truth revealed she was rather anxious to explore every facet of him that wasn’t the same as hers.
He’d had the right of it. She had chosen the Nightingale because she’d hoped to leave there with more than his cooperation regarding Gina. She was rather glad they hadn’t consummated their arrangement the night before, that she could pretend his taking her to his bed in his bedchamber signaled he wanted something special with her.
Silence eased around them, creating an intimacy within the darkened interior. Her nerves were beginning to stretch thin with the waiting for their arrival, for the moment when she would find herself in his arms, his mouth on hers. While she wasn’t virginal, she wasn’t certain her experience would be a match for his. She did hope he’d turn out to be kind if she mucked things up.
“I’d have thought your residence was closer,” she finally admitted.
“We’re not going to my residence.”
That pronouncement surprised her. “Where are we going?”
“Someplace I think you might enjoy.”
Would she not enjoy being in his residence, in his bed? “Is it a secretive place?”
Another place of vice, of sin. Perhaps even of depravity.
“The place itself isn’t secretive but it does hold one of my secrets.”
Dear God, she didn’t know why the words sounded ominous, as though she might be on the verge of learning something about him she’d rather not know. “Perhaps you should tell me about it.”
“Better to see it, I think.”
“Will it change my opinion regarding you?”
“Difficult to say. Depends what your opinion is.”
“I don’t like secrets.” Downie had been full of them, and each one had sliced into her heart, her self-esteem, her confidence.
“I’ll wager an additional night with you—one not due me for escorting Gina somewhere—that you’ll like this one.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then you shall have a night owed to me where you will not have to come to me.”
She wished he’d asked for another sort of payment. She didn’t much like how easily he wagered nights she feared might become special to her. Obviously they meant little to him, like the coins he so easily wagered at the Twin Dragons. Still she refused to show any vulnerability, had learned it was a
lways preferable not to let the hurt surface. “I accept the terms.”
“Splendid.”
The carriage was traveling along at a fast clip. Daring to lift aside the edge of a curtain, she peered out. Buildings, but not residences, whipped by. She wasn’t familiar with this portion of London. Nothing appeared recognizable. “How much longer before we arrive at our destination?”
“Half an hour perhaps.”
Time enough for a kiss or two. She released the curtain. It fluttered back into place. “I’m not quite certain what to make of this . . . adventure. I’m beginning to wonder if you’ve lost interest in me, now that you know you can have me.”
“I assure you, I have not. I would cross over and take you in my arms this very minute except it would mean you’d arrive rather disheveled, possibly with all your clothing pooled on the floor.”
She’d never heard such need, such desire woven through a voice. It pleased her no end. With him, she had a feeling she might live up to her reputation of being notorious. “I thought you a man of discipline.”
“Not where you’re concerned, apparently.”
She watched as the shadowy outline of him moved forward. “Make no mistake, Tillie, I want you in my bed. But tonight is the result of a wager won, not a condition met. I’m not going to take advantage of it.” He shrugged. “Not entirely. I have your company and for now that is enough.”
If she was a silly eighteen-year-old girl who had just come to London, she might think he was courting her, wooing her, striving to win her over with a slow seduction. Their arrangement gave him what he wanted—what she wanted as well if she were honest. All he had to do was take it. That he wasn’t caused something inside of her to ache in a way most welcome. When she was twelve, she’d fallen from her horse, broken her arm. The pain had been immediate, sharp, unbearable. Like her divorce from Downie. But as she’d begun to test it, she’d experienced an ache that had felt remarkably good because it had signaled a healing.
She rather felt that way now, as though her cracked and splintered heart was being granted hope of a healing.
An Affair with a Notorious Heiress Page 18