The Viscount and the Heiress

by Dominique Eastwick

  “Yes, well, we are both virgins in this, then. Much like another time I remember.”

  She nearly choked on her drink. No one in polite society would think to bring up their dalliance. Stifling a giggle, she reminded herself she was not in polite society and had paid for an evening with a man. But never in her wildest dreams would she have imagined it would be this man. The one man whose name was on her lips each morning when she woke. “So, what do we do now? You asked me that already, didn’t you?”

  He gave her a slight nod of affirmation before settling into the armchair across from her. “How about we start by being honest with one another. We have spent the last decade pretending not to know one another, when, for a time, we knew each other intimately. No secret was left untold.”

  She couldn’t argue his first point. They had avoided one another at every turn. She would try to stay away when society allowed it. Some events were unavoidable. For instance, the Duke of Foxhaven’s wedding. No one within the ton would dare miss it. She’d known he would attend and had been unable to come up with a justifiable reason for her not to. She had been forced to watch Jon stand with two other men as groomsmen for His Grace, when all Isabel had wanted was to run. Her saving grace had been the crush and an ability to fade into the background.

  She had believed they were without secrets when she had been surrounded by them. She had opened herself, heart, body, and soul, and he had convinced her he had done the same. “Perhaps, in truth, we might not know one another anymore at all.”

  He opened his mouth as if to argue, but instead nodded. “You are correct. A great many changes can occur in a decade. So, tell me, Miss Hathaway, why would a woman who could have any man in the ton call on the resources of Madame Evangeline?”

  “Not any man,” she said before she could stop herself. She meant him, but she would be damned if she let him know that. “No matter the size of my purse, my birth isn’t considered good ton.”

  “They are idiots, and should we look into their genealogy, I wager we would find many a commoner amongst their prestigious family lines.” He grunted before taking another swig. “You changed topics. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

  She’d hoped he hadn’t but figured he would. “I happened to hear about 1Night Stand by accident.”

  “And how does one hear about this sort of service by accident?”

  The burn started on her cheeks, and he knew from the past her entire face and neck would grow a warm bright pink in a matter of seconds. “When one is eavesdropping.”

  “Were you, now?” He smiled, his white teeth shining back at her as he leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees to pay close attention. The years disappeared, and they were transported back to a time where they would chat for hours, two friends easy in each other’s presence.

  “Actually, I didn’t mean to listen, but I was sort of trapped.”

  “Trapped. Did someone have you chained to the floor?”

  She would crawl under the settee if he made her explain she had been in the privy. “Let’s leave it that when the duchess and….” She might have given away a secret.

  “Continue.”

  “I do not wish to gossip,” she said and promptly pursed her lips.

  “I am quite good at keeping a secret, as you yourself know.” She couldn’t argue with him on that, but before she could say so, he continued. “Besides, I am well aware Her Grace came here to Madame Eve.”

  “You are?”

  “Yes. Foxhaven informed me after his wedding.”

  “He did?” That the duke had admitted his dalliance to another confidante shocked her.

  “Together.”

  “Well, I know he did. It’s how they met, but I didn’t think he would own to it.”

  “Then you do not know the duke. He doesn’t hide anything. His likes, dislikes, successes, or failures. He is amazingly an open book.” He crossed his legs and gestured with a swipe of his hand for her to continue.

  It had been too long since they had been in the same room together and been relaxed. She missed him and hadn’t known how much. “I was in a situation where acknowledging my presence would be embarrassing for everyone involved. The new duchess and her two friends…?”

  “The marchioness and the future countess.”

  “Do you know everything?”

  “No, simply enough about the situation to make myself dangerous.” He grinned the well-practiced smile of a rake. “I figured it would be easier if you weren’t worried about someone’s reputation.”

  “They all came here?” She threw her arms into the air and slumped in a most unladylike slouch into the pillows behind her. “Why am I even telling you anything? You seem to know everything anyway.”

  “I knew enough to ask we not be put in the same rooms the three of them were.” He lifted the sheer curtains and looked out at the sunset over London. “It was one thing to know they had used the services. I didn’t need to know they had done things in the bed to require them all to become leg shackled as well.”

  “I promise I won’t require your presence in front of the parson,” she said a bit too fast.

  His happy-go-lucky attitude slipped, and a hint of hardness crossed over his visage to be wiped away as quickly. “You made that crystal clear years ago.”

  “I will marry no man for money.”

  “For love, either, it would appear. How many proposals have you rejected, now? At last count, three, and you have cried off twice. Impressive numbers, I suppose. Though, when your father has so many men in his pockets, it makes small social transgressions”—he leaned forward and blew on his fingers—“disappear.”

  “That’s unfair.”

  He humphed and downed his drink. “Indeed.”

  “Indeed? You dare to insult me. And all you can answer with is an indeed? Why you—” Her tirade was broken off as someone knocked on the door.

  “Hold that tantrum, shall we?” As if she hadn’t been about to rip into him, he strolled with calm grace to the door, spoke in hushed tones to the person or persons on the other side then pulled a cart with two silver domed trays on it into the room. After shutting the door behind him, he lifted the dome and inhaled. “Would you like to finish venting your spleen now, or eat this while it is still hot?”

  Her stomach grumbled. “No need to let the food get cold.”

  “Wind out of your sails?” He placed the tray before her on the small table, removed the lidthen handed her some silverware wrapped in a white napkin.

  “I suppose I have lost my vigor to argue. My stomach seems to have outweighed my brain.” She was pouting and hoped the food was good enough to counter the gnawing feeling that she should have continued railing at him. “I would have thought with what this building is used for, they would have a dining room attached.”

  “They do, in two of the suites.”

  “Why are we not…? Oh, you mean….”

  “Yes, they were used by the others.”

  “But, what about the third couple?”

  “Apparently, they weren’t as concerned that the rooms had been, as Andrew says, tupped in by their friends.” He set the second tray across the table from hers and took a seat. “At the time, asking for a different room seemed like a logical request. Now it just seems odd.”

  “Odd? Your request not to sleep in the beds that your friends did?”

  “You see, if sleeping was all that went on….” He let the full meaning of his words sink in.

  Minutes passed, while they ate in silence. Finally, she put her fork down. “You know, I think they all genuinely love each other.”

  Though he didn’t look up from his food, he did pause for a second with his fork midair.

  “Do tell.”

  “I heard more than the three ladies talking about this place.”

  “I thought you didn’t like to gossip,” he stated between bites.

  She sat openmouthed for a second before picking u
p her utensil again. “So, I did.”

  Jon chuckled, wiped his mouth with the napkin, and leaned back. “Please continue. I do want to hear what you have to say. I was teasing. I apologize I could not resist.”

  “I think you were trying to score points.”

  “Perhaps I was.” She felt him looking at her, the weight of the stare never letting up as she took yet another bite. He could wait until Hell froze over for her to tell him now. She continued to eat, and still he stared.

  Finally, unable to take it anymore, she nearly shrieked, “What?”

  “Tell me.”

  “No.”

  “You know I will get the information out of you one way or another.” Damned man was enjoying this. She doubted he gave two figs about whether or not he actually heard what she had to say, but now he had a mission. “We could always change the subject to what our preferences are in bed. Much like your tastes in drinks, I must assume those have matured as well.”

  “Excuse me?” She nearly choked on her quail. “That is hardly appropriate dinner conversation.”

  “You came here to fuck a man, and you are concerned over propriety? That’s rich.”

  “No. I’m rich, though.” She met his eyes, raising what she hoped was a haughty eyebrow. Two could play his game. She might not be in his league…. All right, she was nowhere near his league, hadn’t been ten years ago, and that hadn’t changed one iota, but she could play along. And she forgot the thrill she got from trying.

  He actually gaped at her then threw his head back and laughed. “Gawd, woman, I have missed you.”

  Her breath, or, perhaps it was her heart, seized. A wash of emotions and longings ranging between hurt, love, and lust washed through her, leaving her fingers tingling. Her lips seemed to forget how to form words let alone sentences. She waited, watching as he continued to laugh, until he calmed and brought the glass to his lips. When her senses returned, she knew she needed to change the subject from them. “All three women are hoping to be increasing by the start of the season next year.”

  “What?” He sputtered, reaching for this napkin to wipe the drink he had spit off his chin. “Woman, you don’t just blurt news of that sort out with no preamble.”

  “My apologies, my lord. Let me try it this way. We were discussing the conversation of the three ladies in question. The one I was so rudely listening to. They mentioned they hoped to be in the family way very soon.” She pursed her lips to prevent giggling “Better?”

  “One would think so. Because none of them were forced to marry due to expanding waistlines, you assume they all married because they are in love.”

  “Yes.”

  “It couldn’t be that one was a virgin and honor dictated that he do so, another, sex so strong he would take the jump rather than be without, and the last a betrothal agreed to by their families when they were babes?”

  “How would you know that?”

  “I had to sit through an evening of drinks and cards with three besotted fools who, with enough spirits, let their tongues wag a bit more.”

  “Besotted.”

  “Caught that, did you?” He focused on the wall behind her, but she could tell his attention was to a memory. “I think they, all three, are love matches.”

  “And that’s a bad thing?”

  “No. To the contrary, I wish them well.”

  “So, is that why you looked into the service?”

  He locked eyes with hers. “Not a chance in hell. It was I who started this whole damned chain of events to begin with.”

  “You?”

  “Why so surprised? Actually, it was my brothers.”

  “But they are broke.” As soon as the words were past her lips, she wished she could have retrieved them. Damn it. “I shouldn’t have….”

  “Why? You spoke the truth. The whole of the ton knows my brothers have little to no money, and, worse, very little ability to earn their way. A lord is supposed to be filthy rich and never work,” he continued before she could interrupt. “With no war at the moment, there is no military for them to fight for. No money to buy a commission, even if there were. And my father balks at their taking the clergy hood. I have been supporting them for years. Apparently, they pooled their spare change to arrange an assignation.”

  “Do you have any idea how much a night through Madame Evangeline costs?”

  “Not really.”

  He might not, but she did, and there was no way his brothers had scraped together enough to pay for the evening. “So, why haven’t you married?”

  “Miss Right hasn’t graced me with her presence. You? Why haven’t you been able to get that gold ring around your finger?”

  “I don’t want someone who only wants me for my money, I learned very quickly that the mask a gentleman shows to the world is usually far from the one he wears behind closed doors. I have had each of the men who courted me investigated.”

  “Very wise.”

  “Baron Stopford and Mr. Winchester made it past the first rounds of investigations. The Baron, unfortunately, rejoined one of his hellfire clubs immediately after asking me to wed. Winchester was smarter but slipped when he thought he was alone and….” She’d thought she was beyond the hurt, but, as she choked on the words, she knew she wasn’t. She hadn’t loved the man but thought they had a rapport that could have grown into something more.

  The cushion beside her lowered. Only then did she realize he had moved. He placed her hand in his. “Tell me.”

  She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It does.”

  She looked up and saw nothing but concern in his eyes. “He arrived at the house a week before the wedding. Father wanted to start getting him up to speed with the businesses. He was looking forward to handing over both the headaches and myself. They had been using the library as an office. He went in to find a letter from his solicitor only to come across an envelope on the floor from…from….”

  Through gritted teeth, he demanded, “From?”

  “The Cabot Asylum for Women in Hampshire. It must have fallen from Winchester’s coat pocket, as it was addressed to him.”

  The pressure of her hand in his increased. “Continue.”

  “Dad ran out to the stables, found a pitchfork, and chased the jerk off his property, declaring that if he ever saw him in town again, he would ruin the man.”

  “Here the ton thought he was brokenhearted and that was his reason for running to India.” His droll tone made it clear neither he nor the ton believed that.

  “He ran to India to escape debtors’ prison.”

  “I don’t doubt that for a minute. You may tell your father if I ever set eyes on your former suitor, he will find himself on the receiving end of my dueling pistol.”

  She expected him to move away, return to his seat. Instead, he seemed mesmerized by her small gloved hand within his. He ever so gently tugged at the soft cream leather until it eased over her knuckles. The rough pad of his thumb brushed over the delicate skin, sending chills over her arms.

  It had been years since a man touched her bare skin, and when they had, it hadn’t had this effect. Her body immediately reacted to his slight caress. Her nipples hardened into tight buds, the fabric of her chemise teasing her and leaving her aching for more. As attuned as she was to his touch, he seemed completely unaware of what the contact was doing to her. “It’s funny how something so simple as your knuckles brings back so many memories.”

  He brought her hand to his lips, brushing it gently before leaning in to claim a soft kiss. The tenderness caught her off guard. She’d expected passion and lust but not the soul-crushing sweetness he put into the embrace. As she closed her eyes, she let her mind take her back to when she still believed he loved her. A time when innocence lost in the arms of a young man in the heat of passion brought a thrilling sense of adventure before it crashed around her in heartbreak.

  He eased away. “You stopped kissing me back?�
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  Why did the pain of past memories overshadow the joy? There had been so much joy, a friendship she had never experienced before or since. She reached for the glove and replaced it, eased off the chaise, and crossed the room, looking for bell pulls, rummaging through the long velvet drapes. Breathing became hard. She had to get out of this house. “Where is the blasted bell cord?”

  “Are you running away?”

  “I am leaving, as I should have the second I realized you were here. There is too much between us.”

  “There is too much between us, and yet the passion still ignites.” His hand wrapped around hers before she could yank on the red silk cord. “Perhaps we owe it to not only ourselves but each other to give this night, Madame Eve’s services, a chance.”

  Gentle, warm fingers kneaded the tension in her neck, her eyes closed of their own volition, and she tried to find her center. All she had to do was tug the cord and her maid would come and she would leave. As his lips brushed over the pulse of her neck, she let her hand drop. One more night to remember, to keep her dreams warm. Perhaps then they could both move on.

  She melted into his embrace and let her body’s demands take over. He groaned into her mouth as his tongue plunged in and demanded she kiss him back, the way he had taught her so many years before. Strong arms wrapped around her, and, through the layers of skirts, she could feel the length of his erection pressing into her stomach. Something deep within her awoke, knowing he desired her so much. Though he might have lied, years ago, about the depth of his feelings for her, his body could not lie about the desire he’d felt.

  “Tell me you want this, you want me,” he whispered against her temple when he broke the kiss.

  She nodded, unable to speak as she fought to breathe. His blue eyes pierced hers. Whatever he looked for, he seemed to find because his lips captured hers again in a voracious assault that had her knees buckling. Had he not pulled her closer, she would have fallen in a puddle at his feet. As if she weighed no more than a doll, he lifted her into his arms and carried her into the other room. Through closed lids, she could tell the room was dark except for a smattering of candlelight.