In the Garden of Temptation

by Cynthia Wicklund

  *****

  Lord Bourgeault watched as his comely young wife flew from him in fright, and his chin fell to his bony chest. He lifted his head and bellowed, “Willie!” and then again, “Willie!”

  He turned to the fireplace and, leaning his elbows on the mantle, placed his forehead in his hands. That was how Willie found the baron moments later as he answered his master’s call.

  “My lord?”

  “Watch her, Willie.” The baron’s voice was hoarse with emotion. “I think the situation is ripe for success.” He raised his head to stare at his faithful servant. “Pray it happens quickly, for if it does not, I may lose her before I can get her out of this godforsaken place.”

  Edgar cringed as he saw the look of doubt on the servant’s face. Even Willie Gant, though not known for his astuteness, could be given credit for understanding the obvious—one cannot lose what one has never had.

  *****

  “You haven’t forgotten our dance, have you?”

  Catherine started at the seductive words spoken close to her ear, and she turned to see the face that went with the voice.

  “Lord Ashworth,” she said breathlessly, “you startled me.”

  Adam glanced at the man currently paying court to Catherine, and some masculine communication she could not quite fathom passed between the two men. The younger lord sketched a swift bow and retreated. Evidently, there was little to be gained in challenging someone as powerful as the earl.

  “My goodness, he left in a hurry.”

  Adam grinned. “Seems he’s clever enough to understand when his presence is unnecessary. Do you know how long I’ve been waiting to approach you?”

  Catherine shook her head.

  “I’ve been here longer than you have.”

  “You have? Then why haven’t I seen you?”

  “My dear Lady Bourgeault, to have a word with you one must breach a veritable wall of males. It’s disheartening.” Adam looked at her through raised eyebrows.

  “It’s not as though I encourage them.” She was defensive. “Frankly, I don’t understand what all the fuss is about.”

  “I knew you would take.” Was that pride in his voice?

  “What?”

  “It occurred to me when we first met, given the opportunity you would be a monumental success. I’m glad to see I was right.”

  Catherine’s cheeks flushed with pleasure. “Oh,” was all she could think to say.

  “You didn’t answer my question.” He gave her a lazy smile.

  “I…what was your question?” When he turned that hypnotic smile on her she could not think clearly.

  “Did you save me a dance?” he whispered huskily.

  She threw caution to the wind. “As many as you like. All of them if you wish.”

  Adam’s bantering attitude evaporated in an instant, and his eyes blackened with desire. “I’ll settle for my one allotted dance—for now.” He paused. “I’ll come for you after supper.”

  She could only nod her agreement.

  “I want to stay with you, but that will cause talk.” His gaze turned enigmatic. “We will have to be careful.”

  He left with those tantalizing words hanging on the air.

  Within the blink of a lash Lady Richards arrived at Catherine’s side. “What did he say?” she asked anxiously.

  “Nothing really. He wanted to confirm our dance.” She could not look her friend in the eye.

  “Uh huh, I see,” Charlotte said, a hint of skepticism showing. “From the looks of it, it was an intimate tete-a-tete. Nearly everyone in the room was watching the two of you.”

  Catherine was dismayed. “Don’t people have anything better to do than spy on the innocent?”

  “No, they don’t have anything better to do. That is why indiscretion is so dangerous. People will talk. The wrong thing said can ruin a reputation in a night. Once one is ostracized, there is little chance of coming back.”

  “Why are people so suspicious? I’ve not done a thing to warrant this scrutiny.”

  Charlotte patted the Catherine’s arm. “It’s not you, not really, except you are beautiful and have set most of the male population on their collective ears. There’s been some jealously.”

  “What is it then?”

  “Lord Ashworth arrived directly as the ball commenced. That is out of character. He’s known for making an appearance for appearance’s sake, late in the evening. He never, and I mean never, shows a particular interest in any one woman. On two consecutive nights he has singled you out.”

  “That’s not my fault,” Catherine said.

  “No, but there is a rumor circulating which suggests you and the earl are not newly met.”

  Aghast, the baroness stared at Lady Richards. “How could anyone possibly know that?”

  The stunned silence that followed left little room for speech. Catherine had given herself away, and she was horrified by her inadvertent admission.

  “Charlotte, you are my friend, are you not?”

  “My dear, of course I am,” Lady Richards said. “I’ll not ask you to satisfy my curiosity, although I admit my interest is piqued. Maybe someday you will trust me enough to confide in me. For now, I want you to be aware of the pitfalls should you cease to be careful.”

  Lady Bourgeault smiled feebly at the intimation that she had something to hide. “Naturally, I shall heed your warning,” she agreed.

  *****

  Supper proved to be an extended affair, lingering long past the hunger of the crowd. Catherine sat in the middle of a group of young people and listened with growing impatience to the inane prattle flowing around her. For the first time she began to wonder about the idle lives of these pampered aristocrats. Did they have nothing better to do than gossip about their neighbors?

  Probably she had been brought to an awareness of the shallowness of her contemporaries by Charlotte’s advice. Yet to listen to the malicious dissection of one poor individual after another truly depressed her. Their cruel attitude left no room for forgiveness, either.

  Lord Ashworth lounged at a table on the far side of the room and, if his expression were an indication, he felt as bored as she. Catherine had caught his gaze on her more than once, and the rich promise in his eyes made her pulse leap.

  When the music in the ballroom finally signaled the resumption of the dancing, Catherine sprang from her chair in relief. She had promised the first dance after dinner, a country reel, to a nervous young man who came promptly to claim her.

  As she lined up for the dance, an image of the earl enfolding her in his arms before leading her onto the ballroom floor teased her thoughts, and her body shivered deliciously. She must have had a particularly inviting look on her face, because her partner gaped at her in obvious delight. The reel came to an end, and she graciously thanked the flustered gentleman as he escorted her to Lady Richards.

  When she arrived at Charlotte’s side, Catherine knew her features were flushed from the recent activity, for her cheeks felt warm. She laughed gaily. This was the face moments later she turned on the earl.

  *****

  Adam waited on the sidelines for his dance with Catherine. He had remained at the ball all evening—something he would not normally have done—just so he might dance with her one time. It would be worth it.

  He had not bothered to partner anyone else. Hardly seemed worth the time, although it would have made his dance with Catherine less conspicuous. Feeling too irritated to think about that now, he concerned himself instead with the way Catherine had flirted with that young fool. The earl approached the lady, a thundercloud darkening his brow.

  “You must be careful how you encourage these young puppies,” he said, scowling. “Most do not have the discretion to come in from the pouring rain.”

  The smile on Catherine’s mouth faded. “I’m certain you are right, my lord,” she stated coolly. “It is well known the older a man becomes the more discreet he becomes.”

  Adam paused at the gentle rebuke. His
glance shifted to Charlotte Richards who watched him in open fascination, confirming his own lack of subtlety.

  “Touche,” he acknowledged, a sensual grin slowly easing his lips as he stared at Catherine in approval. He bowed in deference to her astuteness and, offering his arm, led the lady onto the dance floor.

  Catherine stood opposite the earl as they waited for the music to the Cotillion to begin. Shyly, she kept her gaze averted. Adam could not help staring at her. She was so beautiful his throat tightened with passion. That dress made her appear like an angel. When she finally raised her gray eyes to his, she took his breath away.

  The routine steps of the dance broke the mood, but the respite was short-lived. As the last notes of the music died away, Adam took her elbow and adroitly led her away from the other guests and onto the vacant balcony. Once there he took her in his arms.

  Adam knew he was homing in on Catherine just as he had done in her little glen. He wanted her and nothing must stand in his way. If he had stopped to think, he might have been surprised by his single-minded determination to pursue the baroness regardless of the cost. But countless sleepless nights had brought the unbearable yearning to a head, and his good sense deserted him.

  He felt her shudder, clinging to him as if she needed the support.

  “Are you all right?” Adam asked anxiously, his arm tightening around her waist as he steadied her.

  “No. No, I’m not,” she replied in an agitated voice. “If you do not stop looking at me that way, I’m going to melt right here on the spot.”

  “I’m sorry, love, but I can’t think further than my desire to make love to you.” He flashed her a crooked grin, so at odds with the message in his statement.

  Catherine didn’t respond at first and, when she did, she took him by surprise.

  “Do you like me?” she asked.

  “What?”

  “You’ve made it clear that you find my face and figure to your liking, but how do you feel about me?”

  His grip on her increased and he stared severely down at her. “Don’t you know how I feel?” he rumbled.

  She shook her head, uncertainty reflected in her eyes.

  “Then I think it’s time I showed you.” Adam dragged her into the far corner of the balcony where an alcove provided more privacy. Taking her by the shoulders, he pulled her to him and kissed her almost brutally.

  The pressure of his mouth was painful, a foolish effort to make his point. He drew back from her, and she clamped her lips as if keeping them from trembling.

  “God!” he groaned. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  He lightly took her face in his hands and brought his lips back to hers. This time there was a gentleness in him, a need to persuade. And he was winning. Her hands crept up his chest to entwine in the hair at the nape of his neck. At the same time, Adam wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tightly.

  When at last he raised his head, his breathing was ragged. “There,” he said unsteadily, “do you understand how I feel?”

  Catherine reached up to brush a lock of hair that had fallen across his brow. “What I understand, my lord, is your desire to bed me,” she murmured. “That is passion, not necessarily anything more.”

  “That is where love begins, Catherine.” He smiled. “I like my sister, but she has never inspired me the way you have.”

  “I see.” Her disappointed gaze slipped from his.

  “Do not misunderstand.” Adam placed his hand under her chin and forced her to look at him again. “You are in my blood. I came home from Bath a man changed, and I’ve been unable to forget you no matter how hard I’ve tried.”

  She stared at him wide-eyed and shivered as he brought his face closer to hers.

  “You invade my dreams,” he whispered hoarsely. “I see the most magnificent woman imaginable, and she is exposed by the moonlight. She is there for me to touch, to love, but she is just out of reach. I dread to wake for I am never satisfied.” He paused as he continued to hold her captive with his gaze. “I do not sleep well of late.”

  “If it’s only passion,” she said, clearly still uncertain, “then any woman to whom you are attracted would do.”

  “My mistress has tried.”

  Catherine flinched away from him as though Adam had slapped her. “You have a mistress?”

  He could not believe he had made such a blunder. “I did,” he hastened, “but she turned me aside. I’m no good to her.”

  “What do you mean no good?”

  “I mean, my lady,” he said in self-mockery, “it is you or no one.”

  He had come as close to a declaration as he could without falling on his knees and begging for her hand. Pain clogged his chest as he realized the futility of such a notion. They might make love, might actually fall in love, but there it would end. No happy future awaited them—the baron would see to that.

  “So be it,” she said, as if coming to a decision. “When left with life’s crumbs, one feasts nonetheless.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “What shall we do to ease your pain?” She spoke in a feathery whisper laden with erotic implication.

  His gut twisted in fiery response and he drew her near again. “I knew you were a witch,” he growled, “else how do I explain the power you have over me?”

  “The power belongs to you, my lord,” she said, flirting with him through her lashes. “I am yours to command.”

  He turned suddenly urgent. “Do you have a servant you can trust?”

  “Edna.”

  “You’re certain your faith is not misplaced?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll have to make arrangements. Tell Edna to expect a message to be delivered by a Mr. Sims. He is my man.”

  Catherine nodded.

  Adam hesitated then. “There is danger involved, love. Are you certain you wish to take the risk?”

  “I don’t have the will to resist.” She looked at him squarely without guile.

  They stood several minutes thus, neither speaking because nothing more need be said. He moved his head slowly toward her and dropped a lingering kiss on her lips.

  “Be waiting for me,” he demanded in a thick voice. “It won’t be long, I swear, for it already seems an eternity.” Adam backed away from her and drew in a shaky breath. “Damn these tight breeches. I’m not certain I can walk through the gathering without disgracing myself.”

  Catherine giggled her surprise.

  “Right,” he snorted as he straightened his coat. “Nothing will get a bloke’s passion under control quicker than to be laughed at by his ladylove.”

  “Oh, Adam.” She smiled gently. “I can’t wait, either.”

  He grinned his elation at her response. “You stay here,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. “I’ll send Charlotte to you. Perhaps there is a dim hope we have not been noticed.” He turned, strode the length of the balcony and disappeared into the crowded ballroom.

  The earl passed arrogantly through the throng in search of Lady Richards. He came upon the little woman unprepared for the blast of temper that awaited him.

  “Lord Ashworth, how dare you show such little regard for Lady Bourgeault’s reputation!” she demanded.

  That dispelled any hope he had with regard to his meeting with Catherine. He was so taken aback, he stared in slack-jawed amazement at the infuriated lady. Charlotte took him by the arm and dragged him unceremoniously to an empty sitting room at the far end of the Farthington mansion.

  “Aren’t you worried about your own reputation, my good woman?” the earl managed, his tone turning sarcastic as he watched Lady Richards close the door none too gently. “After all, alone with me and all that.”

  Charlotte stood, hands on hips. “If it amuses you to avoid the purpose of this conversation, then please, my lord, feel free to do so. I have all night.”

  The earl, unused to having his actions called into question, found himself fighting a sudden burst of annoyance. “You have something you wish
to impart,” he said tightly. “It might be best if you just said it.”

  Charlotte gave him a terse nod. “I’ve taken a personal interest in Lady Bourgeault. Though our acquaintance is of short duration, I’m fond of her and would be displeased if anything happened to upset her.” Lady Richards eyed the earl, a speculative light in her gaze.

  “Come, Charlotte, ask me the question outright.” Adam was relieved to feel his equilibrium resurfacing.

  “All right then—I wish to know what your intentions are toward Catherine.”

  Adam stared at her for a moment without responding. “Do you wish to know my feelings for the baroness, or do you want to know what I intend to do with regard to those feelings?”

  “Both, actually.”

  “I love her,” he stated baldly, “and with regard to that love, I intend to make her my mistress. Do you have some objection to this course of action?”

  Charlotte must have been struck dumb by the earl’s overt admission, for rather than speaking, she clapped her hand over her mouth, eyes wide with shock.

  “Now, now, Charlotte, I have difficulty believing a woman as sophisticated as yourself would be surprised by something as mundane as an affair. It happens all the time.” The earl raised a skeptical eyebrow at her.

  “To others perhaps.” Lady Richards’ expression had turned solemn. “Virtuous ladies were considered safe in your company.”

  “Damn what people think they know!” he responded in irritation.

  “She deserves better than to have her name bandied about in the clubs, Adam. If you love her, you can’t want her reputation destroyed.”

  “What makes you think that will happen?” Now she had his attention.

  “Gossip, my lord—you know, that nefarious sustenance which keeps polite society well fed.”

  Adam winced in dismay. “What would you have me do?” His patience was running thin but, though he hated to admit it, he knew Lady Richard’s worries were justified.