“If you imagine your bark can frighten me then you are as witless as I thought!” roared Crispin. “She has no money. No place to go. She’ll be arrested for vagrancy if you turn her out.”
“I don’t care if the slut is flung into the Thames! I want her out of my house!”
Crispin raised his hand as if to strike her and Fawn cried out: “I am going! It is my decision. I am leaving within the hour. I have no desire to stay.”
Jocelyn raked Fawn from head to toe with gaze of utter contempt and then whirled from the room. The Heathcote family would disown Fawn once Jocelyn wrote them why she could no longer keep Fawn under her roof. No one would take her in when word got out.
Wolfe followed his sister to the door, hesitating just long enough to see that she was out of earshot. “Get dressed,” he ordered quietly. “There’s a cab stand at the corner. Tell the driver to take you to the Regency Club and bill this address. Wait for me there—room six. I’ll meet you as soon as I’ve calmed Jocelyn down.”
And then, he too, was gone.
The candle on the night stand sputtered and smoked, casting grotesque shadows on the floral wallpaper. Fawn sank to the floor, wondering if she was in hell. If she was, it was a hell of her own making. She had brought this catastrophe on herself.
Watching the patterns forming and dissolving, she wondered if she lay there long enough, would they eventually forget about her. Childish fantasy. They would not forget and they would not let her stay. She had to leave tonight.
Fawn dragged herself wearily to her feet. The water in the basin was cold. She splashed her face and then reached for the towel. Glancing up, she caught her reflection in the cloudy mirror over the washstand and examined it pensively. Lifeless eyes stared back at her. Wild damp hair clung to her white cheek and neck. For a horrifying instant an image flashed before her eyes of her mother when they pulled her from the Thames.
Trembling, she rubbed the white towel over her face, chafing her skin until it glowed red. When she met her reflection in the glass she was herself again. She tried to conjure an optimistic thought for the girl staring back at her but nothing came.
Fawn turned away and moved about the room, making the bed and gathering her few belongings together. The black wool with the velveteen-trimmed skirt was hopelessly out of fashion, but a sensible choice for traveling. Fawn pulled it from the wardrobe along with her mantle, hat, gloves and muff. She dressed mechanically, her fingers working the hooks and laces of her corset more from memory than from conscious effort.
Minutes later, Fawn was dressed and the leather valise was open on her bed waiting to be packed. She stared at it as if she couldn’t remember what it was for. It seemed pointless to pack when she had nowhere to go. Fawn removed her walking dress from the wardrobe and the day dress she used to wear on afternoon visiting rounds with her aunt. She managed to stuff both in the valise as well as her undergarments. She’d have to leave the beautiful gown from Jocelyn behind.
A large chest sat in one corner of the room. Fawn flung open its lid, pulling blankets and linens from its interior and piling them on the floor. The chest was almost empty when she withdrew a heavily embroidered handbag. The pattern of birds and flowers had faded and the gilt had worn away on the clasp but the bag appeared as beautiful as when her mother had given it to her. It was prized principally for the pound notes and shillings she had managed to squirrel away over the years she’d been an orphan. Surely there was enough in the purse to buy her freedom.
Crispin Wolfe would be waiting for her at the Regency. There had to be another way.
Fawn dumped the money out on the bed and began to count the coins, her hope rising.
§
SHE SLIPPED quietly from aunt’s house and stood on the pavement bundled against the autumn chill. The deserted tree-lined street was perfectly still at this hour. The sun had not yet risen. Misty dawn bathed the city in silvery light.
The cab stand was a few steps away. She paused irresolute, not knowing what to do. Where could she go? Who would take her in? The money in the embroidered handbag would not last long if she had to find lodgings. The steady beat of a horse’s hooves sounded in the fog and the decision was upon her—there would not be another chance. Turning, Fawn signalled for the driver to stop.
“The Regency,” she instructed as she was handed into the cab. With a flick of the driver’s reins, the carriage jolted forward. Fawn leaned back against the seat with a shiver of trepidation.
Captain Wolfe was very likely placating Jocelyn right this minute with flattery and lies. She was a vain woman and could be easily persuaded that her niece was the culprit in this business. Wolfe would paint the scene of a temptress in his midst and his sorrow over succumbing to her temptation. He was a cunning devil, bent on getting his hands on his sister’s fortune.
The more difficult story to pull off would be why he had to depart for the Regency so soon after being caught in flagrante. Jocelyn would not allow it—not even with the softest persuasion. Fawn was certain she would arrive at the gentlemen’s club to find her uncle not there, which would suit her admirably. She had his room number; she only had to get past the front desk and she’d have a comfortable place to rest until daylight.
The hansom cab pulled up in front of a yellow brick edifice. The doorman for the Regency hurried over to assist her. The man was cordial until he realized she meant to go inside.
“Excuse me, miss. I cannot allow you to enter. I can pass along a message if you like.”
Fawn cleared her throat. “Captain Crispin Wolfe is expecting me. He is escorting me to a meeting of the Society and asked me to wait here for him. I believe they meet here on occasion, do they not? Perhaps I should consult Lord Drake to confirm I have the correct address.”
The doorman flushed purple. “That will not be necessary, miss. The concierge will escort you to Captain Wolfe’s rooms. Allow me to assist you with your bags.”
“Thank you.” Fawn turned to the driver who handed down her battered valise. She tipped him and instructed him to bill Captain Wolfe for the fare in care of the Regency Gentlemen’s Club.
The concierge came out from behind his desk as she entered the stately building, trailed anxiously by the doorman. He was almost offended to see a female in his establishment but his demeanour changed when the doorman whispered a message in his ear.
Fawn was led upstairs with the utmost haste.
“I hope you will be discreet,” he said with a warning frown as he unlocked the door. “The members of the Society are our particular guests and they require special allowances to be made. One does not oppose a cabal of such powerful men on moral grounds. However, I have the reputation of this establishment to uphold. I ask that you refrain from mentioning your business here to outsiders.”
She managed to look outraged. “Sir, it would do more damage to my reputation than to this establishment if anyone learned I was here. I hope that is sufficient assurance of my discretion.”
The man nodded but looked far from reassured. He left the room, closing the door behind him.
Trembling, Fawn set her valise down near the door, removed her bonnet and hung it on the coat rack. Her mantle and muff followed. She was taking an outlandish risk in coming here but there was little choice if she hoped to get far on her savings. Besides, despite Wolfe’s confidence that he would join her, Fawn was equally confident that he would not escape his sister’s watchful eye. Possibly not for weeks. Fawn could make herself at home if she wished.
So this is what a gentleman’s club room looks like, she thought as she glanced around her. A bed, of course—rather ornate, dark heavy wood and burgundy damask bedding, a matching wardrobe and tall dresser where a mirror and grooming aids for a gentleman were neatly positioned on its polished surface. She wondered if Jocelyn was aware of the luxury her brother enjoyed at her expense. A dark leather chair placed near the hearth, a shelf of books, a sideboard of spirits and glasses—an altogether cosy retreat, she observed and hated Cris
pin Wolfe a little bit more for it.
Fawn drew the curtains and stepped out of her black wool skirt and jacket, taking care to hang them in the wardrobe. Keeping her dress neat and tidy was essential to making a good impression. It could be weeks before she found a position and the black wool would have to serve until she did.
She unhooked the corset and laid it on the bed, then removed her stockings and hung them on the fire screen to air.
The emotional tumult of the past few hours had at last taken its toll; profound exhaustion weighted her limbs. Fawn crawled into the opulent bed and fell instantly to sleep.
Chapter Five
THERE WAS a scrape at the door.
She bolted upright, her heart pounding in her chest. Fawn clutched the sheets to her chest and stared into the gloomy distance. There was no light. What time was it?
The door swung open, revealing Captain Wolfe standing in the hall. The concierge hovered slightly behind, his eyes downcast. Fawn dove under the covers.
“You understand my predicament, sir. I couldn’t very well leave her sitting in the lobby.”
“Of course not.”
“Shall I draw the drapes, sir?”
“No, that will be all. Thank you, Mr. Greaves.”
Fawn watched, wide-eyed, as Crispin came into the room and closed the door behind him. He tossed his cloak to the leather chair and his hat. Her uncle tugged off his gloves and his dark, glowering eyes flicked to the bed. Fawn knew he couldn’t see her under the covers and likely assumed she was asleep. He moved to the sideboard, poured himself a drink and tossed it down.
He clearly meant to stay and she could not hide under the covers indefinitely.
Fawn poked her head out. “I did not expect you so soon, uncle. If you give me a moment, I will be on my way.”
“Good God!” Crispin started and slammed down his empty glass. “You scared the hell out of me! How long have you been lying there? I thought you were asleep.”
“I was, sir. I woke when I heard your key in the lock. It is an event I have come to dread.”
He grimaced and strode to the window to throw open the curtains. Light flooded the room. Fawn drew the sheet up over her breasts. “What hour is it? I didn’t mean to sleep so long.”
His eyes moved restlessly to her and then away again. “It is ten o’clock in the morning. Stay where you are. I will not have you gallivanting all over London. Just be still and let me think what to do with you.”
Fawn flushed as Wolfe’s gaze traced the outline of her body under the sheet. “How did you leave my aunt?” Her voice was raspy from disuse.
He poured her a glass of water and handed it to her. “I left her in high ill-humor because I refused to stay. I have no stomach for her rages. I tolerated her insults and slurs against my mother’s character for as long as I dared. When I couldn’t listen to another word without wanting to wring her neck—I left.”
His jaw flinched as he paced the room.
“Your sister is only trying to protect you from scandal. She’ll forgive you one day, whereas it is doubtful I’ll ever see her again and I consider that a very great loss.” Fawn placed her empty glass on the night table and sat up. “I’ve intruded on your solitude long enough. If you’ll excuse me, I should like to get dressed.”
Her uncle lifted an eyebrow. “A short while ago my mouth was on your naked breast and your moans were in my ear. Dress if you like but I’ll not be put out of the room like a dog in heat.”
He sat down in the leather armchair and crossed one booted leg over the other.
Fawn lifted her eyes to his face. Her lower lip trembled but she managed to climb out of bed without bursting into tears. How he enjoyed her degradation! She reached for her corset and quickly pulled it on over her thin chemise. The heavy silk, bones and stays offered a measure of protection.
She darted to her stockings hanging from the fire screen, her hands pressed over her swollen bosom, and then scurried back to the bed. Fawn sat down to put them on, rolling them up over her calves to her thighs, all the while feeling Wolfe’s eyes on her, watching her every move.
“Do you know how delectable you look right now wearing only your corset and stockings? I could positively devour you.”
Her mouth tasted sand. “You mustn’t say things like that, sir.”
Crispin’s blue eyes glittered in the gauzy light. “If I mustn’t say things like that then why did you come here?”
His voice was deep and commanding. Fawn found herself answering his questions as though her aunt’s half-brother still had a right to her obedience.
“I have very little money. This was the only place I could rest without parting with a penny.”
He smiled broadly. “You have a blunt way of answering, Fawn. You might have said you were waiting for me and I might have been persuaded to extend you a loan.”
“I don’t want your money,” she said boldly. The palms of her hands were damp. Fawn eyed the wardrobe, calculating how long it would take to reach it before Wolfe struck. “I mean to make my own way henceforth, beholden to no man.”
Her uncle rose languidly to his feet and came closer until he towered over her. Fawn trembled as he stroked her bare shoulders in a circular fashion. “I want to kiss those swollen red lips and finish what we began in your bedchamber. I believe you do too or you would not have come here. Your excuse is a hollow one.”
She swallowed. “You’re wrong.”
He stroked her cheek. “I saw something in you last night. An awakening ... there is no shame in a girl desiring pleasure after she’s been given a sample of it.”
Fawn shook her head forcefully. “You are wrong, Captain! You saw what you wanted to see. I am here because I had no place else to go. Whatever your intentions are toward me—I am in your power. I cannot fight you off, or call a constable. The law is on your side and you will have your way—but I shall enjoy despising you for as long as I live!”
“I’m not interested in ravishing you,” he said without inflection. “You’re either lying about your feelings or my virginal niece is unconscious of her sexual appetite. If so, that will make the task ahead somewhat more complicated. Once you are conscious of your desire and accept it as good and natural, then you will submit to me.”
“There will be no submission.” Her body trembled. “You are no longer my regent—or whatever you claimed to be. Your authority over me is terminated.”
Wolfe fingered a curl that had escaped the tight bun at the back of her neck. “One so innocent and stalwart in her convictions requires careful handling. Passion cannot be forced. Though it half-kills me, I won’t touch you until I have your consent.”
“Why? Why do you persist?”
The question trailed away as she realized she was trapped. There came a ringing in her ears and the room tilted. Fawn reached out to steady herself and found Crispin’s arms around her.
“You are unwell. Sit down.” He carried her to the leather chair and poured a glass of brandy. “Drink this. It will help.”
“You are mistaken about me, sir.” Her teeth rattled against the glass as she took a small sip. The brandy restored her nerves. “I don’t know how the misunderstanding occurred, but my feelings are not what you think. I do not delight in this senseless, demeaning pursuit and I will not be tricked into betraying my soul. Abandon this obsession and leave me be—please. I am begging you. If you have any feeling in your heart for me, you will let me go.”
Crispin’s expression was unreadable. “An obsession, by its very nature, is not easily abandoned. I have tried and failed. I want you and by God, I shall have you. A girl cannot look at a man as you looked at me, pout her lips and press against him in the hall, without consequence.”
Fawn blushed to her roots and cast her eyes to the floor.
“Don’t,” he said in a low tight voice. “It stirs me too mightily to see you flustered and confused when I am near.”
“I am ashamed of myself. I meant only to greet you as an uncle—as
Aunt Jocelyn wanted. I never felt anything other than kinship—” She broke off, blushing even more furiously than before. A scarlet stain swept over her shoulders and bosom. “Your manner changed with me from one hour to the next. I thought I was a burden to you. I needed to make you like me. That’s why I smiled so often in your direction. Aunt Jocelyn would send me away if you did not like me. I had to make you like me a little.”
Tears blurred her vision.
“You mad stupid girl. Not like you—I was so hot with lust for you, it was almost a sickness.”
Crispin appeared to wrestle with his self-control while Fawn lost hers. She rose to her feet, shaking from head to toe with rage. “Your feelings continue to degrade and insult me. I promise I will never return them. You are a broken, callous man and I loathe the very sight of you.”
She set down the glass of brandy, marched to the wardrobe and reached for the black wool skirt. Crispin caught her back, pulling her into his arms.
“I wonder if your skin is pink all over after that display of temper,” he said softly. “I have read that a girl, even one as innocent as you, can experience orgasm without penetration. Would you like to find out if it’s true?”
Fawn’s breath stopped in her chest. Her eyes bravely found his. “Why don’t you simply take me and be done with it? I won’t scream—who would come to my aid? You have won, uncle. Why continue this charade of needing my consent when I will never give it?”
A shadow crossed his face. “Do not tempt me, Fawn. Do you think I haven’t considered it? When I found you here, I knew I could have you. I could ruin you so easily.”
“And cast me into the street when you were finished.” Fawn wept openly but she held his gaze. “Then do it, Crispin. Do it! I am sick of being your plaything!”
Wolfe released her and stalked to the door. At first it looked as though he was going to leave but then he didn’t. Instead, Jocelyn’s brother leaned his forehead against the wood panelling, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he fought for mastery.
The Dark Regent Page 4