Through the years, she had managed to hold herself together in front of Jannah. At times Eden felt like two people—the bossy big sister and the subservient slut. The duality had been tenuous at times. Even now she expected to be summoned to the library for her ritual punishment.
It had not begun on such a low note. At first, her stepfather had been gentle, almost boyish.
“That dress I gave you,” he said, as they walked hand in hand to her room one night. She leaned into him, hoping to catch another kiss.
She looked up at him and smiled. “I love it. Besides being beautiful, you gave it to me, my lord.”
Her infatuation was so blazing she saw him take a step backward. Steady. She’d not scare him away by seeming desperate. She wanted to do the thing with him properly. Although proper had nothing to do with it.
He shook his head sorrowfully. “It doesn’t show you to advantage, Puss. I don’t think it fits correctly.”
“What do you mean?”
“I made a mistake. Comes of being cut off here in the country, I expect. I hear a lower neckline is all the rage now in London. Your—your breasts”—and here he looked down, as if embarrassed— “should be peeping from the bodice. Spilling out to be caught by a lover’s hands. A man should see what he’s paid for,” he whispered.
That sounded wicked. And quite wonderful. “Mama would notice.” Not very likely. But Mattie would.
“Then you’ll have to give me a private showing.” He lowered his voice so that Eden could barely hear him. “I dream of suckling your nipples and making you come.”
“Come where?” she asked, stupid girl that she was. He had laughed and chucked her on the chin.
“The night you finally let me make you mine, wear that dress. Fix it so I can see you. All of you. Shock me.”
Eden felt the familiar surge in her lower regions. She knew what he wanted; she wanted it, too. More than anything. She kissed him hungrily, her mouth aching for the tangle of his tongue.
“Don’t make me wait too long, Puss,” he warned.
Eden shook the thoughts from her head. Her stepfather had been a very clever man. She might almost admire him for his skill had he not ruined her so completely.
“If you don’t hurry up, it will be time for your morning rest. Here,” said Eden, bringing a plain black gown to her sister’s bed. “This will do. I shall give you Mama’s ruby bracelet and my paisley shawl.”
“Oh, very well.” Jannah allowed Mattie and Eden to dress her as if she were a doll. Truthfully, she did not really feel up to meeting anyone, especially such a handsome man as Juliet Cheverly had described. She’d had a bad night and troubled dreams. When Mattie left her to fetch breakfast, she’d spat the blood into her washcloth, then buried it underneath the old schoolbooks in her painted chest at the foot of the bed. But fit or not, she needed to see for herself the man Eden might be forced to depend on. Her sister had seemed so unhappy since Mama died. Even, she had to admit, for some years before.
At the stroke of eleven, the baron was ushered into the late Lady Hartford’s sitting room, the site of yesterday’s beautification project. While it welcomed the morning sun, the curtains had been drawn to protect Jannah’s reddened eyes, which were sensitive to sunlight. Jannah could never have managed the stairs today. She was breathless just sitting in her mama’s favorite chair.
When Stuart Hartford entered, she felt a momentary rush of pure calf-love. Now here was a hero come to life! He was romantic perfection. His military bearing mixed with the undeniable warmth in his smile would have been the downfall of girls far less vulnerable than she.
But he was not for her. He might be the answer to one of her prayers, however. How splendid it would be if he fell in love with Eden. Then her sister could stay right here instead of going off somewhere to earn her living. How could Eden resist him? Jannah was determined to show her sister to be irresistible herself. It was past time for Eden to have a life of her own, not always taking care of her or Mama or at their stepfather’s beck and call. She would sing her sister’s praises until Stuart Hartford would be overcome by duty and do the right thing.
Hart took her hand in his and kissed it. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Jannah.”
Hart did not have the disadvantage of watching a young girl in the bloom of youth fade incrementally day by day. For those who loved her, the changes had been gradual. But from his quickly mastered expression, Eden saw that he recognized that Jannah was not long for this world. Her skin was translucent, each blue vein visible. Against her white face, scarlet patches stained her cheeks. Her dark eyes were already searching for a distant view.
Hart was charming, gently solicitous, asking seemingly innocuous questions. Jannah was far more forthcoming than Eden had been. In her innocence and illness, Jannah seemed unaware how damning her answers were. Despite Eden’s efforts to alter the conversation at each discomfiting turn, the picture of her life at Hartford Hall must have been becoming clearer.
“My sister is quite a scholar, you know,” Jannah said. “I believe she was quite instrumental in helping my stepfather organize his library. He was forever seeking her out for her assistance. He depended on her as if she were his very own daughter.”
Eden felt her breath leave her. The new baron had been here three days and had spent a great deal of time in the library. Surely Lord Hartford had already inspected some of the volumes. She had dared not warn him earlier of their content. In this and so many things, Eden had wished to appear in oblivious ignorance.
“Indeed?” Hart raised gold-tipped eyebrows in surprise. “Are you a great reader, Miss Emery?”
“My stepfather’s collection holds no interest for me.” Eden searched her mind, trying to remember if there was in fact any sort of order to the books on the shelves. “I’m afraid my contribution consisted of straightening the volumes and dusting. Lord Hartford expressly forbade me to acquaint myself too closely with his books. He told me some were very r-rare.” Would he know she was lying?
“Surely one of the servants would have been better suited to that task,” he replied.
“As I said, the books were considered valuable. It was no hardship. Jannah, love, I fear we have overstayed our welcome. It is time you rested a bit before luncheon.” Jannah’s last words had been mere wheezing. Eden kissed her sister’s reddened cheek and opened the door, looking pointedly at Lord Hartford.
As they walked the hall together, Hart put his hand on Eden’s arm. “Thank you for letting me meet with your sister. I am sorry if it was too much for her.”
Eden stopped short and stepped back, removing herself from Hart’s hold. “You know it was.”
But perhaps now, his curiosity satisfied, he would leave them both alone. He could have no objection to her spending the rest of the day with Jannah. But he stood rooted to the carpet, looking her over with his stormy sea blue eyes.
“It’s a puzzle, you know, about the contents of the library.”
Eden tried to brazen it out. She lifted a newly sculpted brow. “In what way, sir?”
“Surely you became curious in all your years of ‘dusting.’”
She could hear the sarcasm. “If you had known your uncle, Lord Hartford, you would not think to cross him.” That was close enough to the truth. “He told me not to open the books. I did not.”
“I wonder. There is an enormous unpaid bill for a book I cannot seem to find. Perhaps you would help me search for it. You may already know where it is.”
“I-I-” Eden stammered. Could this man be any more vexing? But perhaps his request could be turned in her favor. “If you tell me its name, my lord, I can search for it once you and your aunt are on your way back to London. It’s a shame to lock yourself indoors when the autumn days are so fine.” Idiot. The sun had not shown its face for much more than an hour at a time since his arrival. He had certainly set her on edge. If she dared, she’d push him out the door this very minute.
“Come downstairs with me to the library. I
will find the printer’s bill.”
Eden closed her eyes for a moment. He said himself the library made her uncomfortable. For her it was torture. More time spent in that room with this man. More time to remember. Surely he had learned all he could about the estate by now and could leave? He’d seen Jannah’s condition for himself. He had met with Mr. Pinckney and all the servants. The vicar, too. But she followed him down the stairs to the back of the house.
Hart unlocked the desk drawer, where he had neatly stacked the outstanding tradesmen’s bills. “Here it is. From an Arthur Griffin of Gryphon Press. No doubt he thinks he’s a clever one with the play on words. The Education of a Young Lady. I thought perhaps it had been ordered for you or your sister. Have you seen this particular volume?”
Eden remembered the gryphon perched over a book on the frontispiece, its talons sharp. The title on the bill was not quite accurate, but there was no need for her to elaborate. “I do not recall it, but I shall make every effort to look for it once you’re gone.”
“You seem in an awful hurry to get rid of me, Miss Emery.”
“My sister is ill. Surely you can see that now that you’ve met her. The disruption to her routine is not good for her.”
“Should she stay locked up in her room, then, alone? Just waiting to die?”
“How cruel you are! And she is not alone,” Eden said hotly. “Mattie and Charlotte are with her constantly. I am there with her as much as I am able. Now that Lord Hartford is dead—” She broke off.
“You have a bit more time to spare for your sister. How very generous of you,” Hart said, unmistakable coldness creeping into his voice. “While you and my uncle engaged in licentious behavior, your little sister had to fend for herself with the maids.”
“How dare you!”
“Can you deny it? I found the proof in the library with my own eyes!”
So he had found the book! All this business about ghosts and the bill was just another means to torture and trap her. “Where is this proof?” she said, willing calm to cloak her. But she saw her guilt reflected in his eyes. His lips thinned and she could feel the chill of his disapproval wash over her.
He knew, or thought he did. It was useless for her to try to explain. What had Kempton called him? Holy Hartford. He would never understand. She barely understood herself. She waited for her world to come crashing down again.
He’d awakened with a pounding headache and the shame of semen on his bedcovers. All night Eden had darted in and out of his dreams, her sheer night rail, then her naked body enticing him into one lurid fantasy after another.
He’d lost patience. She was guilty as sin, her hands contorting in their nervous dance. He had gambled confronting her openly. So his assumption was fact. A pity. He could forgive much, but never this. His uncle was beyond his reach, but Eden Emery was a beautiful thorn which he would remove no matter how much she tempted him.
“I burned it. So you are safe. Unless there are more.”
“It was the only one,” she whispered.
“How lucky,” he said in disdain. “That charcoal sketch I found tucked into a book was most singular indeed.” Ignoring Eden’s look of confusion, he continued. “You realize, of course, that your admission changes everything. My aunt and her boys are everything to me. I cannot allow a woman such as yourself anywhere near them. You have done enough damage to your own family. Once your sister—” He paused, softening his words. “When her time comes, you will leave this house. Don’t worry. Unlike my uncle I’ll make some financial provision for you. For services rendered, so to speak. Perhaps he did not feel he got a good bargain in the end. But you are to stay away from my family and my home.”
“Very well, my lord,” Eden said. “I shall be glad to be done with anyone named Hartford. May you join your uncle and the devil!”
She left, a blur of black muslin. Hart couldn’t believe it. The trollop had seemed furious with him. He wondered how long it was after her mother died that she seduced his uncle.
Dutiful sister or not, the woman was morally questionable when it came to sex. Allowing herself to be drawn in such a damning way, it was obvious she was indiscreet, and that could be dangerous. He’d found out about her easily enough. If his aunt planned to give her a London season, who knew what she would do, and who with, teeming as the town was with rakes and rogues who would scent her unmistakable sexuality. Scandal could wreck a family, as he very well knew, and he’d not let his well-intentioned aunt get swept up in wickedness. Juliet and her boys should be free of the Hartford disgraces. He didn’t want to be a prig, but he had a duty to his family. Eden’s presence was a provoking reminder of its failures. And the very last thing he needed was a repeat of last night’s sensual debauchery picturing Eden Emery as he stroked himself to ecstasy.
Chapter 5
Eden longed to throw something, but she knew a shower of broken china would attract the attention of Mattie at the very least. Every item in her room belonged to the odious Stuart Hartford anyway. No doubt he’d send her a bill once he sent her packing. So she made do by pounding her bed pillow until her fists felt as if So she made do by pounding her bed pillow until her fists felt as if she’d gone a round at Gentleman Jackson’s.
It was pointless to try to explain her circumstances. She couldn’t even explain them to herself. And her shame really was unbearable. She had been a smart girl; her papa had always said so. She would have been interested in Baron Hartford’s library had he had anything in it that resembled real literature and history. But there was nothing except false titles on the bindings and sin within. And she had been forced to read every one.
Surely now the baron would leave. He held her in complete antipathy. He was right to hate her. She hated herself for her first mistake and the many thereafter.
Her mother and Jannah had left for a fortnight to visit Jannah’s godmother. Eden had been invited, but at the last minute backed out, blaming her monthlies.
“I cannot possibly ride all that way in a carriage, Mama. I shall die. In fact, I wish I were dead right now,” Eden cried dramatically.
“Hush, dear. A woman suffers so she might one day bear a child. Children are such a blessing.”
Her mother’s pupils were huge from the drug. Eden wondered if her mother could survive the journey herself, but Eden had helped her pack the necessary vials of poppy. Jannah was twelve, old enough to be resourceful, the same age as Eden had been when she was relieved of the duty of running her little family, when her mother remarried. Eden felt some guilt, but not enough. If her mother had not been so determined to provide Lord Hartford with an heir, she might have paid more attention to the children she already had. Tonight Eden would take her mother’s husband into her bed and into her body. She had left the letter on his desk. There could be no mistaking her intention.
Dear Lord Hartford,
I have decided not to accompany Mama and Jannah on their trip. I do not want you to sleep all alone in this house. I look forward to having dinner with you this evening in my room. I have asked Mrs. Burrell to send a tray up at seven o’clock because I am sick. She will not think it odd that you keep me company, because you care for me.
With love, your Puss
She began dreaming and dressing hours earlier than necessary. Thank God Mattie had gone with her mother and could not criticize her appearance. She had altered the lovely red dress Lord Hartford had given her so that the rosy tops of her nipples were exposed. She knew he’d like it. He’d asked her to do it.
That had been weeks ago. She had been frightened of her feelings, but she was ready now. She left her hair down and tossed a woolen shawl around her for propriety in front of the servants.
The tray was delivered promptly, and Eden removed her shawl. Ten minutes went by, then twenty. Mrs. Burrell had sent brandied wine up to help with Eden’s “ female troubles,” and half the small decanter was already gone. Eden fastened the shawl around her dress once again and rang for the butler, Collins.
“Lord Hartford was to join me for dinner because I am unwell,” she said. “Could you see what is keeping him? I shouldn’t like Mrs. Burrell’s good cooking to get cold.”
Five minutes later Collins returned and told her Lord Hartford would be unable to join her.
“I don’t understand.”
“He said to tell you he’ll look in on you before he goes to bed, miss, if it’s important.”
Important! It was a very matter of life and death! Did the stupid man not understand what she had planned? No, he was not stupid. It was she who had somehow ruined her evening. Perhaps he had gotten tired of waiting for her to make up her mind and had lost interest. He had seemed cooler of late, hadn’t he?
“Wait. Please take a note to Lord Hartford. It shan’t take me but a minute to write it. And take away the tray. I’m too ill to eat. Perhaps you should leave the wine.”
Tempting Eden Page 8