Illicit Love

by Jane Lark

  But why? Had she been Pembroke’s mistress once? His imagination began to roam while she pointed something out in another shop, his mind developing all sorts of tales. Had she lived locally to Pembroke when she’d fallen from grace? Or worse, what if she had been in service in Pembroke’s household? How much older than his daughters was she? Perhaps she’d been a governess? It would have seen her dismissed and disgraced without reference. She would not have found another position. What if Pembroke had been the one who forced her into this life? The man was certainly cold enough.

  When they reached the corner of St James Square, keeping out of sight of the bay windows of White’s, she stopped and looked up at him, her eyes in the shadow of her bonnet.

  Lord, he wished she would just tell him what had happened before, or at least what secret kept her under Gainsborough’s thumb. Not knowing left his mind making things up to fill the gap. It was quite likely to drive him mad.

  “I’ll leave you here,” she whispered, her smile telling him she longed for a kiss.

  He nodded, his thoughts probably written in his eyes.

  She smiled more broadly, playfully swatting at his arm. “You could at least show a small measure of sorrow at our parting, my Lord. Less than an hour ago you did offer for my hand.”

  It did what he knew she’d intended and drew his attention fully back to her. “The offer is still open if you choose to accept it.”

  “Are you nagging again? It is not at all polite to do so as we’re parting.”

  He gave up a smile at her teasing, aware she was doing it for his benefit, to ease the blow of her refusal. Taking both of her gloved hands in his, he said, “As I informed you earlier, Ellen, a gentleman does not nag but merely asks, and I shall continue to do so as I will.” Then leaning a little forward he whispered, “Until tomorrow, sweetheart. Will you meet me at the same time?” His grip pulling her closer with a sharp tug, he successfully surprised her into lifting her face, giving him the opportunity to reach beneath her bonnet and bestow a final quick parting kiss on her lips.

  Pulling away, she nodded. “Yes, tomorrow. Do not be late.” Her voice was a little shaky.

  “Am I ever?” She didn’t want to go back, he knew it. It was the same every day, her confidence shattering at the last. But he had no choice other than to let her go. He had given her another option and for whatever reason she had not taken it.

  “Tomorrow then, Ellen.” He let her go, watching as she turned away and weaved through the people in the street.

  He followed at a distance, to ensure she made it safely to Gainsborough’s, but stopped at the corner, watching while she climbed the steps. He saw the door open. Ellen stepped inside. Turning away he had a feeling that she’d left him for good but he laughed it off, thrusting his hands into his pockets. It was paranoia. They’d had their first argument that was all. They’d agreed on tomorrow. He would see her then, and he would have a second chance to make her understand what she had to do. Accepting his proposal was her best and only choice.

  As he wove a path through the crowds his thoughts went back over their conversation. She’d said she loved him. He didn’t think it was just words. The warmth of it filled his chest, but did nothing to waylay his confusion. If she loved him, why on earth was she not willing to accept his offer?

  And if she stayed with Gainsborough and never left, what the hell would he do then?

  Shrugging his shoulders he walked on, turning his concentration to the street. He wouldn’t contemplate it. She’d accept him at some point. He would make certain she did. His memories turning to their love-making, he felt a self-satisfied smile lift his lips. He’d make damn sure she couldn’t refuse him.

  Chapter Five

  Edward rounded the street corner whistling as he walked and acknowledged the lightness of his mood. It had returned to optimism overnight. He’d see Ellen in two hours. That alone made him smile. And when he saw her, he was going to ensure she accepted his offer of yesterday. He’d spent the time from dusk until the early hours of the morning sitting at his brother’s desk thinking things through. Just before dawn he’d made some decisions and planned his assault with a more circumspect approach. Today he would pick the moment when she was languid and satisfied from their love-making and he would hold her close until she listened. He would declare his love and refuse to take no for an answer, he’d deploy every element of persuasion he had in his arsenal to get the girl to comply. Nothing Ellen could say would deter him.

  The smile of anticipated victory still on his lips, he jogged up the steps at the front of White’s and tipped his hat to an acquaintance who was leaving.

  A footman stood in the doorway. Edward handed over his hat, gloves and greatcoat before walking on, and then called for a cup of strong coffee as he passed another footman. His cousin, Rupert, was sitting alone at a table in the middle of the room. Lifting his hand, Edward hailed him.

  Rupert folded his paper, tossed it onto a low table and stood as Edward strolled towards him, smiling.

  Edward offered his hand and Rupert accepted it, also clapping a palm on Edward’s shoulder.

  “It is bloody good to see you. I’d begun to think something was wrong.”

  Edward’s smile lifted. “Nothing is wrong, Rupert. In fact quite the opposite, life is being particularly good to me.”

  Their greeting over, Edward sat.

  Rupert did too.

  Edward surveyed the room through the haze of pungent tobacco smoke which hung in the air like a high mist, noting the various occupants of the club, including the Duke of Pembroke in the far corner. Edward turned back to Rupert. Pembroke was the last man he wished to see after Ellen’s reaction to his wife the day before.

  In general, the club was quiet, but there was always an air of restraint about White’s. Conversations progressed about them in deep hushed masculine tones. Across the room, there were several vacant seats by the window niches, those which tended to be populated by London’s later risers, men like Edward’s brother, the self-absorbed, who liked to pose for the benefit of the women in the street beyond.

  Edward’s eyes turned to the footman approaching with a pot of coffee and a cup balanced on a silver tray. It was the footman who’d passed Edward the note from Ellen the other day. As the man set down the tray he slid something from beneath it, just slightly, and cast Edward a meaningful look.

  Edward’s brow furrowed and he eyed the folded corner of paper peeping from beneath the tray and felt his heart stop for a moment. Without thinking he reached down and slid it free.

  Why on earth would Ellen write? On the front of the paper it was just his name. Ignoring Rupert’s blatant curiosity he opened it. She had written just three words. He is back. And then below the letter E, and I will contact you when I can. He could see she had struggled to find the privacy and opportunity for the simple note. His stomach solidified to stone and his fingers folded and refolded the piece of paper while his mind raced through what it meant—what he could do. He could not see her this afternoon that was certain. So how the hell could he persuade her to run away with him? The one thing he knew was, he was not going to sit idly by and watch her with that bastard. He shoved the note into the inner breast pocket of his morning coat and reached for a coin, then passed it to the footman and accepted the cup of coffee the lad had poured before leaning back in his seat to brood, resting one booted ankle on the opposite knee.

  “What was that?” Rupert asked.

  The shock and confusion must have shown but Edward met Rupert’s gaze and answered, “Nothing of any import,” in a tone that was a very poor impression of off hand. Prior to meeting Ellen, Edward had had no need to prevaricate, he was not accustomed to it.

  Ignoring the sceptical look Rupert gave him, Edward sipped his coffee, his mind racing through his revised options. The first was to go to Madam’s, the gambling-hell Gainsborough favoured. It was the only place he could anticipate seeing Ellen.

  His gaze locking with Rupert’s, he propos
ed, “Do you fancy a game at Madam Marietta’s this evening?”

  Rupert’s eyebrows lifted in an obvious expression of disbelief. “I have not seen you for a bloody week. Do you really expect me to drop everything for you now? I am not your lackey, Ed.

  “Do you even know how odd you’ve been acting? I wrote to Robert to tell him. I’ve called more than thrice at Bloomsbury Square to be turned away by Jenkins with excuses, and you are never where you’re meant to be. Anyone would think you do not want to be found. In fact it is ever since you closeted yourself away with Gainsborough’s little piece of muslin that you...” Rupert suddenly stopped speaking, his eyes widening in apparent dawning understanding and Edward watched with trepidation. He could see the puzzle slotting into place in his cousin’s head and then Rupert’s forefinger lifted and pointed accusingly.

  “That is it. Is it not?” His growing excitement transmitted to the pitch of his voice. “You sly bastard, you’ve been rutting Gainsborough’s whore!”

  Edward moved like wildfire, his coffee spilling, his cup and saucer rattling, as he carelessly thrust them aside in a rush of anger and leaned his hands on either arm of his cousin’s chair. Looming over Rupert with a sneer of irate disgust, he snarled, “Shut up you fool,” in an abrasive hoarse whisper.

  Clearly unperturbed, holding Edward’s glare, Rupert’s head shook once, in obvious disbelief. “You lucky devil, that’s out of character for you.”

  Edward felt his lips twist in distaste, but his anger already cooling he realized they’d drawn the attention of the entire room. He looked at the table beside them and recognised Lord Banks and Bower, watching, among others of influential standing. Their eyebrows lifted. Edward stood, straightened his cuffs and nodded in their direction as though nothing was amiss, then turned to collect his cup, ignoring the equally interested stares he received from other areas of the room. Even Pembroke had looked up.

  Rupert’s hand rested on Edward’s shoulder and Edward turned back, meeting his cousin’s probing gaze. “So that’s the way of it,” Rupert whispered knowingly, smiling, visibly congratulating himself for guessing correctly.

  Edward drained his cup and set it down, his anger flaring again at the sordid conclusion in his cousin’s eyes. Then he gripped Rupert’s arm and drew him across the room. “That is not how it is.” Reaching the quieter space by the windows, Edward let Rupert go.

  “Robert will love this,” Rupert hissed.

  “Keep your voice down,” Edward snarled, out of patience, he did not give a damn what his brother would think. “This is not one of Robert’s flirtations. And no, for your information I am not rutting her.” He spat the vulgar word in Rupert’s face.

  “You are not telling me you’ve fallen for the slut?”

  Within seconds Edward held Rupert by the collar and Rupert’s hand had wrapped about Edward’s wrist, pulling at his grip.

  “Call her that again and you will be looking into a pistol.” Edward shook Rupert once then let go and glanced across his shoulder to see if his outburst had been observed. It had not.

  For the first time since meeting Ellen, Edward admitted to himself just what a tangle he was embroiled in. Heaven help him, had he really just threatened to call out his cousin? Rupert had been Edward’s best friend for half his life. Edward cursed mentally, ashamed, and his fingers swept through his hair, his hand shaking. After reading her note, he felt like he’d been bodily put through a wringer, his emotions were in shambles, and he was in no mood to tolerate Rupert’s slanderous and ill-informed opinion. But nor was it appropriate to threaten bloody murder.

  “I’m sorry,” Edward breathed. “I should not have lost my temper, but I will not listen to you insulting Ellen, Rupert. Do not.”

  Rupert viewed him with what appeared furious disbelief, tugging his morning coat back into place and then straightening his rumpled cravat. “Ellen? What the devil is going on, Ed?”

  Edward sighed. “Gainsborough’s been out of town. I’ve met her a few times.”

  Reproach burned in Rupert’s gaze. “To what end? You’ll not draw her away from Gainsborough. He’s worth a fortune. You’ll never compare. Women like her are in it for the money, Ed, she’s using you for fun.”

  Edward shook his head, disgusted. “It isn’t like that.”

  “No?” Rupert’s eyebrows lifted again, clearly disputing Edward’s answer, as he signalled to a footman across the room. “What is she in it for then? She is hardly with Gainsborough for pleasure.

  “Shall we sit?” Rupert prompted in a brisk voice, moving towards a vacant table by the window.

  Edward followed. “She never wears jewels. He gives her nothing.” As Rupert sat, Edward did too, leaning forward and gesturing with a hand. “He knows if she had the means to leave she would. She is not avaricious.”

  “But you intend to give her the means to leave him, I suppose. You’re mad. You do not fight against such men as Gainsborough, Edward. His money has too much influence among the ton. You’ll never be accepted again. You’ll have no hope of a reasonable marriage for yourself after such a debacle as that. And a debutante with a dowry is what you need as a second son, not a second-hand whore.”

  Edward glowered. “Shut-up, Rupert, I’ll not listen to you insult her.”

  With a smile that said he was not intimidated, his cousin turned to the approaching footman and called for brandy. Then facing Edward again, looking earnest, Rupert pursued, “So what is it then, Edward, if not a mutual affair for the benefit of sexual gratification?”

  Lifting an eyebrow in silent reproach, leaning back, Edward waited as a footman brought the brandy and glasses, and filled them. Rupert passed the man a tip. When the footman moved away Edward answered, his eyes fixed on his cousin. “I like her. She likes me. You ought to know I have no interest in debutantes. It’s not an affair, Rupert, I’ve offered for her.”

  Rupert choked on his brandy, lifting the back of his hand to his mouth. He coughed and swallowed. “Offered what, Edward?”

  “Marriage, what do you think?”

  “You are insane. She’s a courtesan! If you had offered her carte blanche I doubt you would have succeeded with Gainsborough’s wealth still in the offing, but marriage? What did she do? Laugh in your face? I doubt she liked the idea of domesticity no matter how much she likes you in bed.” A bark of laughter escaped his cousin’s throat. “I thought so, she turned you down. The woman’s bewitched you. God, she must be good!”

  Edward’s lips twisted with distaste.

  “Ed!” Rupert lifted his palm to stay Edward’s response. “What is wrong with you?”

  “That note was from her. Gainsborough is back. We were due to meet but she can’t get away.”

  “Ah.” Rupert’s eyes scanned his face. “The jigs up then, she’s turned you down and deserted you. I suppose you wish to go to Madam’s to have it out with her.” Shaking his head a little, Rupert concluded, “I will come to Madam’s with you tonight, Ed. For no other reason than someone needs to keep an eye on you, before you make a fool of yourself. As for this woman, just think very carefully before you do anything more. Do not take any steps you will regret. And remember I have a sister who is unwed. If you ostracize yourself from the ton you ruin this family’s reputation and you ruin hers.”

  ~

  Resting back in his seat, Edward’s grip tightened on his hand of cards, holding them up before him, but his attention was not on them. Looking past the cards he could see Ellen on the other side of the room. She and Gainsborough had arrived an hour ago while Edward had been here for three, waiting, hoping Gainsborough would bring her, and getting more and more impatient. And Edward had lost money, a considerable amount which he could ill-afford, but his concentration would not turn to the game.

  She looked at him. He longed to acknowledge her. He felt so damn impotent. He wanted to just get up and go to her, take her out of here and take her away, as far away as possible from Gainsborough. Only one thing held Edward back from it, Ellen. Until sh
e agreed, until she told him what tied her to Gainsborough, so Edward could persuade her to rely on him, he would not risk the man hurting her again.

  She was watching still and Edward could tell she was trying to discern what he was thinking. They had known each other barely a month and yet he felt as though he understood her every look. His lips lifted to a smile as he thought of all the places on her body which would deliver an unconscious response. The intensity and direction of his thoughts must have reflected in his face, because, blushing, Ellen looked away. Desire shot to his groin, a pain that ran from his stomach down.

  The pain of a sharp strike hitting his ankle beneath the table cured his building arousal. He shifted, leaning forward to rest his elbow on the table while his gaze fell back to his hand of cards.

  “Careful,” Rupert leaned to whisper, “the entire room can see what you are thinking.” He was sitting beside Edward.

  Edward smiled, not looking at his cousin.

  “Gainsborough might be old, ugly and a cold-hearted sadistic bastard, but what he is not, Ed, is an imbecile. If you want this affair of yours to remain a secret you are going about it ineffectively.”

  Despite his cousin’s counsel Edward’s gaze lifted instinctively back to Ellen. He couldn’t help it. Proving Rupert’s words, Gainsborough smiled viciously at Edward from across the room, caught Ellen’s wrist and pulled her down onto his lap. Edward’s stomach twisted in disgust. Looking back at his hand of cards, he struggled to control the anger which sent blood racing into his limbs. It was done to rile him. Gainsborough was aware of Edward’s interest if nothing more and was flaunting the fact that Ellen was his. Well not if Edward had any bloody say in the matter. But for now—for now—he must do as Ellen desired and let Gainsborough have his way.

  “Your turn,” Rupert barked.