Carnal Deceptions (15 page)

“I would imagine there must be numerous topics more interesting for you and Miss Starling to discuss.” Tallon attempted to catch her eye, but she refused to look at him, confirming that she had indeed spoken against him. Her betrayal sliced through him.

“I do hope I will not have to face down that rather grim attitude when I come to call on Miss Starling.”

Undoubtedly, the bastard was anxious about Tallon sharing a townhouse with Tess. Tallon hesitated long enough to see both worry and a freakish excitement play across Sloan’s smug features. “I’ll be staying at my club in town,” Tallon finally responded.

“The music is starting again.” Sloan crooked his arm and she set her gloved fingers atop his sleeve. She did not even spare Tallon a backward glance as Sloan escorted her to the dance floor.

*

Tess stepped expectantly into the house. The first thing out of her mouth would be an apology. It made her ill to think of her encounter with Lord Marcliffe at the Gray’s party.

The expression on his face had been plain to read. He’d been shaken by her betrayal. Tess would make him the vow she had made herself. Never again would she sacrifice him for the sake of cozening up to Sloan. To besmirch his reputation as a soldier was beyond ugly. The man had risked his life in service to his country.

Cyrus met them in the entrance hall. Lady Stadwell had a spring in her step that had been absent almost the whole of the evening. “Please inform my nephew that we are home.”

“His lordship has come and gone, my lady. He is staying at his club.”

Tess was thankful Cyrus had spared them the truth. Why would a man go to a stuffy men’s club when he had a mistress who longed to lavish attention on him? Tess’s deceptive behavior could only increase the appeal of Miss Sparkes.

The hopeful gleam dimmed in Lady Stadwell’s eyes. “Perhaps it is better that he is not here. For we are off on another adventure of which he would not approve.”

“It is only a little repast in the Vauxhall Gardens. Certainly nothing one could approve or disapprove of,” Tess said.

“You will not be wandering down any of those lovers’ passages, my dear, of that you can be sure.”

Tess found her first and only amusement of the night. Not but a few weeks ago, Lady Stadwell had inducted a courtesan to teach her the sinful arts, and now her virtue was sacrosanct.

Wishing only for the night to end, Tess trudged up the stairs to splash water on her face. Far more energetic footsteps soon followed behind. Tess knew it was Jane. The new maid seemed to be around every corner.

With a sigh, Tess turned to the maid as they reached her bedchamber door. She was in no mood to be fussed over. “Jane, please fetch Lady Stadwell her blue cashmere cape.” Jane hesitated for a moment, her thin lips tightening perceptibly before doing as bid.

At the washstand, Tess filled the basin from the ewer and roused herself with the cool water. She lifted her head to find, dangling from the mirror’s scrolled corner, the very same necklace she’d hurled at Lord Marcliffe. A soft moan of yearning escaped her as she recalled how he’d looked at the party in his elegant evening dress. He had been every inch the earl tonight. Utterly polished, with each gleaming black hair in place. Equally swoon-worthy as the rough warrior and the highborn gentleman.

Tess reached up and fingered the brilliant stones. Was this meant as an overture? Or a taunt? What if he had come to London to renew his proposal? No, she was just torturing herself with fanciful notions.

From her chignon, Tess pulled curlicues of hair to frame her forehead. She stared at her reflection. This new role she was playing, even without the disguise, felt less real than Hortensia. To have this revenge was costing her everything else she wanted. She’d even traded on her love for Lord Marcliffe to sidle into Sloan’s life.

Appalled with herself, she turned away from the mirror and grabbed her warmest coat from the wardrobe.

By the coach, acting as footman, was the gallant giant. Cyrus politely helped her into the carriage. There was something comforting about his presence. Lady Stadwell, already seated, was fixing the blanket across her lap. The wheels creaked as the big man climbed up to the box. Curious, Tess thought, that Cyrus would be attending them this evening. Obviously, Lord Marcliffe had enlisted him to keep Lady Stadwell safe.

Sloan awaited them outside the gates of Vauxhall Gardens. He lifted a quizzical brow at the sight of Cyrus. “They’re making lady’s maids larger than they used to.”

“Cyrus served with Lord Marcliffe in the army,” Tess said. “How interesting,” he responded.

Hundreds of twinkling lamps gave the pleasure gardens a mystical quality. Cyrus guided Lady Stadwell along the illuminated paths. Playing the innocent flirt, Tess accepted Sloan’s arm with a shy smile.

He patted her gloved hand. “I believe you were being coy when we first met. It is apparent that Marcliffe does not think of you merely as his aunt’s houseguest. The way he stared at you, he hardly concealed his desires. When it comes to you, my dear, I’d say fire runs in his veins.” Sloan leaned in close. Tess could feel his breath fluttering her hair.

She congratulated herself for not pulling away. “I believe you are just toying with me, sir. I hardly know the man.”

“I must say he looked as sleek as a blooded stallion this evening. And I did not notice any perceptible limp, though I have heard he exhibits one on occasion,” he continued.

The man’s assessment of the earl stunned Tess. He’d viewed Lord Marcliffe in much the same way Tess had. Did a man speak of another in such a fashion?

Sloan gestured toward a vacant supper box. “Ah, here we are.”

Even considering her dinner partner, Tess looked forward to supping. The horrid punch at the ball was the only thing she’d had all day. There was more than ample room in the supper box but Cyrus seemed more comfortable standing outside. And an arrogant man like Sloan would never think to invite Cyrus to join them.

When Tess didn’t think she could wait any longer, the plates came. She frowned down at the miniscule portions and, with a sigh, carved up her tiny piece of chicken. As she had nothing in common with Sloan, the conversation had dried up quickly. Tess wondered that Lady Stadwell could even eat considering how tight and pursed her lips were. Every time Sloan’s attention was diverted, Lady Stadwell would shoot him a killing glance. Her glares were in stark contrast to the joyous expressions depicted on the mural behind her head.

Completely oblivious, Sloan swirled the arrack in his glass. Glimmering lights reflected in the liquor. “What an outrageous price for such measly fare,” he said with a disdainful sniff.

A constant flow of patrons paraded by their table. Tess entertained herself by people-watching and remarked a particularly odd-looking character with striped breeches and a pointed beard stroll past. When he sauntered by a fourth time, Tess was certain it was not just by coincidence.

Confirming her suspicions, when the man stopped to check his watch in front of their box, Sloan sat up straight and plunked his goblet down. “I know the perfect location to view the fireworks. But we must be quick about it.”

Lady Stadwell, obviously exhausted from the long evening, leaned heavily upon Cyrus. Sloan did not offer his arm, and Tess hurried to keep up with his rapid pace. A thrill ran through her. This might very well be the opportunity she was waiting for.

It was a swift exchange. If Tess had blinked she would have missed it. The bearded man approached. His pace matched Sloan’s. The men made a show of clashing shoulders. “Sorry, old man, my clumsiness,” Sloan said, and an envelope switched hands. With one motion, Sloan tucked it into his waistcoat. Instantly, his pace slowed and he was soon walking side by side with Tess.

“It seems Lady Stadwell’s spirit is flagging,” Tess remarked.

Sloan shot a glance over his shoulder. “Perhaps we shall save the fireworks for another evening.”

To which Tess readily agreed.

Sloan maneuvered the party down the Grand Walk toward the gates. Tess listened for the next boom of rockets. When they sounded, she swiveled on her heels and clutched his lapels with a cry of surprise. Raising herself on tiptoes, she lifted her lips to his. A shower of light lit up the sky overhead. He did not react instantly. He seemed stunned by her brazenness. Finally, he dipped his head and she curled her hand around the nape of his neck with one hand and plucked the package from his waistcoat with the other. She enfolded it in her palm and took an awkward step back. It was done so quickly that she had only time to think of the kiss after it had happened. Disgust shivered up her back. There was no denying he was a well-made man: tall, blond and elegantly proportioned. But Tess likened the experience to kissing a worm.

“I wish they’d shot those fireworks off earlier.” With a self-satisfied smile, Sloan snatched up her hand and tugged her down a passage toward a dim, wooded area.

Stopping just out of Cyrus’s range of vision, Sloan patted his coat as though checking pockets. And here she thought she’d been so clever. Her heart rate quickened and her mouth grew suddenly dry. She crushed the package in her hand and prepared to flee straight into Cyrus’s massive arms.

Surprisingly, Sloan’s hand did not come up empty. He unwrapped a piece of cloth, and Tess could just make out the silhouette of a ring. Discreetly, she slipped the package she’d stolen into her pelisse pocket.

"I know this is rather sudden. But the affection you just demonstrated has given me hope that I will not be rebuffed. Miss Starling, would you consent to being my bride?"

Relieved that he hadn’t noticed her sleight of hand, she accepted the ring from him without thinking.

“You’ve no family, correct? Need I obtain approval from your chaperone? Because in truth Lady Stadwell scares the wits from me. Her behavior has been less than friendly. It's as though she harbors some ill will toward me. ”

Because of the darkness, Tess could only picture him saying the latter with an unholy smile. Surely he'd guessed why Lady Stadwell disdained him. Or was that part of his unscrupulous nature? To forget completely the victims of his schemes? Certainly, Tess had never sensed any discomfort on his part when there was mention of her father.

As Tess formulated an answer, she felt him shift nearer as though impatient for a response. “Yes, I’m afraid you must speak with her. But please do not broach the subject tonight. Lady Stadwell is weary.” Her hands were shaking and she told herself to calm down. This was, after all, an act, and a wedding would never take place.

In a daze, she let him guide her back to the lit path where Cyrus and Lady Stadwell waited.

“Lass, you are making a mistake,” Cyrus muttered under his breath. He couldn’t possibly have known about the proposal but the kiss done under the display of lights he likely hadn’t missed.

Tess muffled a yawn with her gloved hand as she approached the gleaming coach. What she wouldn’t give for a night spent at home. Cyrus tossed his cigar aside and straightened his coat before handing Lady Stadwell up into the carriage. Tess, her hand completely lost in his meaty paw, heard his clucking tongue. The man was still scolding her for the insignificant peck she’d planted on Sloan. The carriage jounced under his weight as he hauled himself onto the box to sit beside the coachman. Suspiciously, since Lord Marcliffe’s arrival, Cyrus had accompanied them everywhere. Even when they’d taken a short stroll in the park, he had followed like a hulking shadow.

“Dreary night. A play would have at least been more engaging than the opera,” Lady Stadwell said. “Besides we are wasting our time with these assignations with that horrid man. We should be finding you a suitable husband.”

“It is hardly an assignation. ’Twill be a cordial visit.”

“You do not suppose, my dear, that I missed that kiss at Vauxhall.” They had not lit the interior lamp, so Tess could only imagine Lady Stadwell’s disapproving frown.

“I do have an excuse for my behavior. The kiss was a diversion. I spied a man handing Sloan a small package. And now I have it in my possession.” Tess could not bring herself to mention that she had Sloan’s betrothal ring in her possession as well.

“What is it?” Despite Lady Stadwell’s obvious displeasure with the way Tess had obtained the package, she could not keep the interest from her voice.

Tess smoothed her satin skirt and with nothing but pallid moonlight to guide her actions, she adjusted her elbow-length kidskin gloves so they scrunched just so at the wrist. “Truthfully, I have not a clue. It looks somewhat like tea, but it has a peculiar scent. Perhaps it is some illicit substance.”

“Let us hope,” Lady Stadwell said. “Though I am convinced that Sloan is fully aware that his swindle caused my dear husband’s apoplexy, he acts as if those blond curls form a halo. How I wish I could slap that revolting smile from his face.”

A crush of people thronged the entrance to the opera house. Cyrus signaled that they wait, even going so far as to stand before the coach door making an exit impossible. As the last of the attendees swept into the building, Cyrus allowed them to exit. From the seat, Tess plucked the silk shawl shot through with silver thread.

“You are not wearing that useless thing, are you, my dear?” Lady Stadwell asked. “It is too lovely. I cannot resist it,” Tess replied.

Cyrus escorted them only as far as the doors. Tess tucked Lady Stadwell’s hand in her arm as they climbed the stairs to the balcony. They had only just taken their seats in the box when the curtains twitched. Sloan swaggered in. A street ruffian in a gentleman’s wardrobe, Tess thought. He bowed his head in Lady Stadwell’s direction before giving Tess’s gloved fingers a squeeze. He flicked his tailcoats and took the chair beside Tess.

“Looking lovely as usual. You’d look even more so with my ring on your finger.

Tonight may afford me the opportunity to ask Lady Stadwell.”

Tess managed a smile and a bat of her lashes. “Patience, sir. Her mood this evening is a little glum.”

“Oh, pity.” Sloan brushed at nonexistent lint on his lapel. “Have you had a visit from the illustrious lord of the manor?”