by Heather Boyd
Mrs. Blakely wet her lips. “I want to speak with him. I deserve that.”
“You deserve nothing, in my honest opinion,” Theodora warned. “If Lord Templeton had wanted to speak with you, he would have already come.”
Adele licked her lips again, her eyes hardening. “He will come if you convince him I’ll hurt myself if he abandons me.”
Theodora was taken aback a moment. “Madam, such a blatantly false claim would never sway him.”
“You don’t know him like I do.” Adele snatched up a letter opener from her writing desk and held it over the inside of her wrist threateningly. “He’ll come. He won’t let me destroy myself as Mary did.”
Theodora smiled, pretending she knew nothing about the death of Quinn’s sister. “Mary?”
“Yes, his sister. She killed herself. I could too if he will not meet with me!”
Anger rose in Theodora, beyond anything she’d ever felt before for another living soul. Adele Blakely wasn’t done finding new ways to hurt Quinn apparently. “You conniving little slut. How dare you think to torture him with your lies?”
“He told me about her himself.” Adele’s eyes gleamed with triumph. “He told me everything about the day he lost his younger sister.”
And Theodora would bet a thousand elephant’s that Adele would use her knowledge to strike back at Quinn if she did not get what she wanted from him. Theodora couldn’t bear for him to be so poorly treated.
“I know nothing of that,” she lied. “And I’m sure no one will believe you no matter how theatrically you perform.” Theodora set her satchel aside and perched at the edge of her chair. The woman had to be stopped. Here and now. Although bile rose up in her throat, she knew blackmail could never be surrendered to. “But do go on. Do it now. Show me you’re serious in your threat. Prove that you cannot live without him if you believe that will gain you sympathy. Go on, hurt yourself.”
Adele moved her hand a bit but did not cut into her skin. She chewed her lip and hesitated.
Theodora smiled slowly. “You don’t care about him at all, do you? How could you? You care only for yourself and your selfish ambitions.”
She snatched back the agreement and shredded it into little tiny pieces as Adele gasped with the first real emotion she’d witnessed that day. “I rescind the offer. And make no mistake it was my offer and not his. You have until Thursday to leave this house, and don’t think I won’t have you tossed out in your unmentionables if you do not comply.”
“Wait!”
“Why should I give you another moment of my precious time?” Theodora raised a brow. “You threaten emotional torture of the worst sort for Templeton if you do not get your way. He doesn’t deserve a woman like you in his life. I’m glad you showed your true colors. You disgust me. You disgust him, too.”
She collected her satchel and walked out, certain that Adele’s threat to take her own life was an empty one. She might be there Thursday at nightfall, but Theodora did have connections that would help the woman move out to temporary lodgings, by force if necessary. Theodora might resume negotiations but she would never offer this woman as much as she just had.
The coachman, John, was already waiting beside the door with the steps down. “St. James next.”
“Right you are, Miss Dalton.” The coachman glanced into the carriage. “My lord, if that suits.”
“No, it does not,” Quinn answered from within.
Theodora scowled. The servants would obey Quinn without question. “Move the carriage, John,” she ground out, still angry with what she’d just heard. “Take us anywhere that isn’t here immediately.”
She climbed into the carriage, and tossed her satchel onto the seat opposite the earl. She met Quinn’s eyes reluctantly across the carriage as the carriage rocked with the weight of the grooms reclaiming their perches.
They stared at each other a long moment in silence. How could Adele Blakely think she had any right to blackmail Quinn?
“Very well.” Quinn opened the hatch to the coachman. “St. James, John. At a slow pace, if you please,” Quinn called.
Theodora forced herself to calm her temper. “What are you doing here?” she asked softly.
“This is my carriage.” He tugged on his waistcoat as he sat up straighter. “Do you often forget that you are in my employ, Miss Dalton?”
He was stiff and cold, and not at all the man she’d come to care for. “Of course I don’t.”
Theodora longed to reach for him, but hesitated. Quinn had not come to her room last night, and to see him outside his former mistress’ home made her anxious for reasons she did not care to examine too closely. She’d had the most wretched sleep as a result of his absence from her bed and had woken up out of sorts. She’d missed him very much.
He crossed his legs, turning his body away from hers in the carriage and addressed his next remarks to the window. “I’m not sure that you do. I’m sure you will agree that I am a man who would expect his wishes complied with. All of them. I told you, in no uncertain terms, what I expected from you.”
“Well, I’ve dealt with Adele Blakely already.”
“I could care less about that woman. I’m talking about your foolish decision to come out without a proper chaperone.”
She gaped at him in surprise. “The maids had other duties, and my mother is too delicate for the discussion I’ve just endured.” She ground her teeth. “You’re well rid of that grasping shrew, I promise you.”
“Spouting opinions like that to any other employer would get you dismissed from your post immediately. I have been very lenient, but a line must be drawn. You will always have the company of a maid, or you will remain at home. And it is not your business what I do about my mistresses,” his brow rose high, “nor will you be involved in the negotiations should I take on a new one.”
A new one? He wouldn’t dare. She glared at him. “You may do as you like, as always, my lord. As will I.”
His jaw clenched. “Were you born stubborn or did you make yourself this way?”
Theodora shrugged, turning to look out the window herself. “I was born this way,” she said, allowing her words to drip with sarcasm. “I suppose you would have me different. Missish and quiet. Shall I defer to you as if I’m incapable of making any decisions for the position you hired me to fulfill?”
Quinn leaned forward, resting his arms on his strong thighs, but Theodora wouldn’t look at him. “Most men find managing tendencies a most undesirable quality in a female.”
Theodora sucked in a sharp breath, suddenly furious at him. After all they had shared, he suddenly didn’t like the way she thought or acted? She couldn’t speak for the anger coursing through her veins. Well, if he was done with her, she was most definitely done with him. She would speak to mother tonight and—
Quinn laughed suddenly. “Most men, but not all. If you truly wish to work in the position of a secretary to others, you might try to curb your managing tendencies a little in the future. I would have dismissed Sever and Kemp for going against my wishes as you have today.”
Theodora sat up a little straighter, but noted he’d said “would” rather than “will”. “My father never complained if it was to his benefit.”
“He was a very indulgent father then. What did your father’s employees make of you? Was Mr. Small jealous that you had such free rein in your father’s affairs?”
“I’ve no idea that he might have been.” She glanced toward Quinn, astonished that even in the midst of an argument he was smiling at her. “He was a good man. He was supportive and generous with his time when my fiancé died.”
He recoiled suddenly, looking at her with alarm. “Just how much time did he generously bestow upon you?”
“Oh, it wasn’t like that between us. Heavens no,” she qualified. “No.”
“And yet by your own admission, you see no harm in seeking comfort where you like.”
“Within reason. Small was only ever a friend. I would never seduce a servant i
n my home.”
Quinn glanced away. “As I have done.”
“That is not what I meant.”
His brows rose. “But that is what has happened between us. You share my bed but refuse to be my mistress. You act as if you’re my secretary, my servant, in effect, for all that you don’t act like any I’ve employed before. What we have done together in private is considered quite wrong in certain circles, you know.”
“I don’t believe that there is anything wrong with what we—”
“I know your feelings on the matter. You’ve been very clear indeed on how you view this,” Quinn waved his hand, “whatever this was between us.”
She stared at him, trying to figure him out. “Was?”
He nodded curtly without meeting her gaze. “We’re in St. James, now. What was the house number?”
Theodora told him and dug into her satchel as the carriage slowed. But her heart currently resided in her shoes. Was Quinn saying they were done with each other because she wouldn’t replace his last mistress? She swallowed to wet her suddenly dry mouth. “I have the description here. Five bedrooms, portico front with fanlight above, half basement, and a complement of four permanent staff. Doorman, cook, maid, and footman.”
She glanced at Quinn as the carriage stopped directly before the townhouse and waited for some reaction. Quinn wouldn’t look at her. She swallowed the lump in her throat. She’d gone too far in her zeal to manage his affairs. But after meeting his former mistress, and learning her true character, she could hardly regret anything she’d done that day. She would save Quinn from that woman if it was the last thing she ever did for him.
She looked at the house and tried to put her feelings for Quinn aside. Doing that was quite difficult she found. She didn’t want to give up Quinn if she didn’t have to. She looked at the house, rather than think of a life lived without him.
It was a pretty house, distinguished. The neoclassical detailing on the façade made it seem quite grand. She cleared her throat to get Quinn’s attention. “Did you hear me, my lord?”
“Yes. Bedrooms, basement, servants,” he said in a bored tone, moving his face closer to the window as he peered out. “Much the same as all the rest in this neighborhood, most likely.”
Theodora glanced at the house just as a wigged gentleman answered the groom’s knock and received Theodora’s calling card. The man nodded, agreeing to give her entry, and they got out. Quinn was still staring in the wrong direction, though, once he stood on the footpath.
“The house is this way, my lord.”
“It cannot be,” Quinn exclaimed, taking a few steps in the wrong direction.
“Lord Templeton,” Theodora called. “Are you coming with me or not?”
He met her gaze briefly and looked away, frowning fiercely. “Usually, yes.”
Theodora blushed and dropped her chin, skin tingling at how quickly her thoughts turned to intimacy with him.
He hurried to join her, caught her elbow in a firm grip and practically dragged her to the front door. “It seems a pleasant prospect.”
“Indeed it does.” Grateful for his renewed interest in the house, and for his touch again, she smiled quickly. “You don’t have to come with me. I am capable of assessing the situation on my own.”
“No, I came this far. I’m coming inside with you.” He caught her elbow and steered her toward the steps. “You mentioned your meeting with Mrs. Blakely went poorly. You were angry.”
Such an understatement. “She understands her options are limited,” Theodora said firmly, hoping not to have to reveal the whole of their conversation. “I have asked her to exit the property by Thursday.”
“Good. Good.”
His grip fell away as they stopped inside the entrance hall.
The doorman appeared at a loss when he stared at her, clutching her card in his gloved hands. Theodora smiled warmly, hoping to win the fellow over quickly. “We would like to inspect the house?”
He glanced at the card, then at Quinn, who was peeking out the front windows.
Her employer returned. “I am the late Lord Templeton’s eldest son, formerly Captain Quinn Ford. Now the earl. I’m here to decide what to do with the house I’ve inherited from my father.”
The man sighed. “It’s unoccupied, my lord.”
He glanced past the servant. “So, there is no one presently living here?”
The man nodded vigorously. “Myself and two other servants.”
“Excellent. If you don’t mind, we will show ourselves around.”
The man stepped back. “I’ll wait here in case I can be of any further assistance.”
Quinn gestured for Theodora to lead the way. She passed him to look around. The rooms were sparsely decorated and had few personal possessions scattered about. Most of the furniture had white covers spread over them to keep out the dust. She peeked under a few, noting the furniture was first-rate.
The staircase was steep to an upper floor of four rooms, but only one held a bed. The bed was made, but Theodora would wager it had seen recent use, given the poor job done of straightening it. There were a comb and soap at the washbasin, a spare cravat already pressed to perfection inside a tall cupboard.
“Such a large bed for such an empty house,” she commented.
Quinn had paused at the door, one arm resting against the doorframe, and his gaze was speculative. “My father slept here on occasion.”
Theodora winced. Quinn was always happier when his father was not part of their conversation. “What makes you say that?”
“Look at that ridiculous bed. Father refused to sleep in any bed smaller than eight feet square. He probably met his lovers here.”
“He’s owned this dwelling for some time.” Theodora remembered the details from the deed of ownership. “A decade or more. Does your mother know about this place?”
“Probably. Mother has never been squeamish when it came to dealing with the other women in my father’s life. You two have much in common in that regard.”
Theodora bit her lip, unsure if she was being complimented or warned off. “Is she aware of who Mrs. Cabot is to you?”
“Oh, yes.” He studied her, and then a slow smile spread across his face at last. “Mother shops at Cabot Haberdashery every week when she’s in London. The poor girl will never escape Mother. Be warned, you could face the same future.”
She struggled not to smile at that prospect. She liked Lady Templeton very much. She even thought she understood her a little. Lady Templeton adored her son, and would do anything to ensure his happiness. “Surely not.”
“I’ve seen enough. Let’s go out.”
“Yes, lets.”
Once in the carriage and underway, Quinn pulled down the curtains on all the windows until only a little light illuminated the space. “Did you discover anything about Roman Gently yet?”
“I’m afraid not. There was nothing in your father’s last diary.”
“Look back further. As far back as eighteen eleven, perhaps.”
“Eleven?” She pulled a face, cursing her premature tidying. “Those diaries and some other papers were sent up to the attics yesterday. I’ll have to fetch them back.”
“Send someone to fetch them for you.” He studied her a moment. “You would do well to make use of the servants, Theodora.”
“But I know exactly where they are. It will take only ten minutes to fetch them myself.”
He sighed. “You’ll be the death of me.”
“I only want to make your life easier, Quinn,” she whispered, knowing it was true.
“Do you still?”
“Yes, of course. Haven’t I achieved more than you ever expected of me?”
“More than I ever knew I wanted.” He suddenly snatched Theodora off the bench and deposited her on his lap. “I will miss you.”
“I’m not going anywhere yet,” she warned, feeling a slight catch in her breath. Did she really have to stop working for him? Stop seeing him at night? “I was th
inking—”
Her attempt at conversation was cut off as his lips sealed firmly over hers. He kissed her thoroughly for several minutes. “You are always thinking. It’s very distracting to have such a clever creature within arm’s reach and not touch you,” he whispered as they drew apart.
She smiled quickly, tunneling her fingers into his hair. “I feel the same.”
“Thank God,” Quinn whispered as he nibbled her neck.
“Are you sure this is wise?” she asked as they headed west. “I have other errands to run today.”
He kissed her soundly and then pressed his head to hers. “Let it go, Theodora. We’re going home now and the next time you go out you will take your mother or a maid as chaperone.”
Quinn’s kisses turned teasing. He took her earlobe between his lips and bit lightly.
“Yes, Quinn.” Theodora squirmed on Quinn’s lap. “But surely…”
His fingers slid across her chest, and he cupped her breast again. “How can you think at a time like this?”
“I’m trying very hard to overcome your allure,” she said dryly, but her body was already responding to his assault on her senses. She did like the way he made love to her, and she had missed him.
“I’m very hard with want for you.” He pushed her hand between them, where his erection hid. “Tell me you would prefer to play today, instead of pouring over dull papers in the study.”
She drew back, holding him firmly by the hair, tempted for the first time ever to be recklessly irresponsible. There was a lot at stake if she gave in to him. Her reputation. His, too. He might also imagine every day might be spent like this, which it couldn’t. However much that might appeal, she shouldn’t plan any sort of future. “Tonight.”
He groaned softly and kissed her neck. “Spoil-sport,” he grumbled.
After a few minutes of his ardent nibbling, Theodora reluctantly slipped off his lap to straighten her gown, hoping it was not crushed too badly and would not be noticed when she stepped out. She felt much too excited for the daylight hours. People might notice the hot flush of her cheeks, too.
Quinn ran a hand through his hair to straighten it. He sat back, accepting the need to wait until nightfall with only the smallest outward appearance of disappointment. “Since I cannot convince you to play wicked games with me today, I’ll be going on after I drop you off at Newberry House.”