Taste of Temptation (38 page)

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Authors: Cheryl Holt

Tags: #Romance - Historical, #American Light Romantic Fiction, #General, #Romance, #Fiction, #Fiction - Romance, #Love stories, #Romance: Historical, #Historical, #American Historical Fiction, #Regency novels, #Regency fiction

BOOK: Taste of Temptation
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At hearing the threat, Amelia and Clarinda ran. There were too many people blocking Rafferty’s path, so he couldn’t chase after them. Plus, he didn’t dare abandon Helen and Jane, for they would be unguarded if he and his minion raced off.
Clarinda and Amelia wound through the streets, and once Clarinda deemed it safe to stop, they huddled together in an alley.
“Who was that man?” Amelia queried.
“He’s a criminal,” Clarinda replied. “Now, listen to me. I need you to be very brave. Can you be?”
“Yes, I’m very brave.”
Clarinda drew out some cash and gave it to her.
“What’s this for?” Amelia inquired.
“I may be gone for a day or two.”
“Gone!”
“Use it to eat”
“All right,” she hesitantly agreed.
“Can you find your way back to the earl’s house?”
“I think so.”
“Wait till dark, then sneak in, so you can tell Rose what happened.”
“What did happen?”
“Mrs. Seymour is pretending Helen and Jane stole that ring.”
“The money, too?”
“Yes.”
“Ooh, that lying witch!”
“Your sisters are in terrible trouble. We have to help them.”
“I will do anything!” Amelia vowed.
“Rose must inform Captain Odell about Mrs. Seymour—the instant he returns from Scotland.”
“It might be ages!”
“I know, but at the moment I can’t figure out what else to do. After you speak with her, you must hide yourself somewhere nearby.”
“For how long?”
“Until I come for you.”
“Where will you be?”
“I’m going to follow Mr. Rafferty. We have to learn where he’s taking them. The second I find out, I’ll be back.”
Amelia gazed at her. “I’m scared.”
“No, you’re not. You can’t be. There’s no time. Helen and Jane are counting on you.”
Clarinda shoved her toward the street, but Amelia wouldn’t budge.
“Are you sure this is the only way?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“But... but...”
“Amelia, please. I have to get back to Rafferty before he leaves. If he’s already gone, we might never locate them.”
The prospect galvanized Amelia, and she nodded.
“Swear that you’ll come for me,” she begged.
“I swear.”
“I don’t know how to live on my own. I don’t know how to take care of myself.”
“You won’t have to. I’ll be there in a few hours.”
Amelia chewed on her bottom lip, about to burst into tears, but she took a deep breath, and she straightened.
“I’m Harry Hamilton’s daughter,” she firmly said, brimming with ire, “and I’ve had about all of this I can stand.”
“That’s the spirit”
“I’ll see you very soon.”
“Yes, you will. I promise.”
Amelia reached out and squeezed Clarinda’s hands, as if sealing the pledge. Then she raced off in one direction, and Clarinda raced off in the other.
 
 
“WHAT is this one called?”
“Passion’s Flower.”
“What does it do?”
“It brings on amour—when the gentleman in question is disinterested.”
Phillip smiled at his female customer. With her big blue eyes and delectable curves, she was lovely. Usually, he enjoyed chatting with a pretty girl, but he was worried about Clarinda.
When he’d awakened, she’d been gone, and he’d told himself that she was at Hastings Manor, delivering tonics, but she hadn’t returned.
Where was the blasted woman?
“Mr. Dubois?”
From what seemed a long distance, he realized that his customer was talking.
“What did you ask me, Mademoiselle Lambert?”
“What is this?”
“It is my famous elixir, Woman’s Daily Remedy. It calms body and soul, being especially beneficial when you are distressed.”
She pulled the cork and sniffed the contents.
“May I have a little taste?”
“Certainement.”
She took a sip, but as the intoxicating brew slid down her throat, she coughed and coughed.
“Oh my,” she sputtered. “It’s quite potent.”
“It definitely is.”
“With where I’m going, though, it might be just what I need.”
“Are you off on a journey,
cherie?”
“To Scotland—as companion to the two most horrid twins you’ve ever met.” She paused, chagrined. “I can’t believe I said that. You won’t tell anyone, will you?”
“I am the very model of discretion.”
“Good, because my employer is a beast. If he learned that I was complaining, I’d be fired before I ever started working.”
“No one will hear a word from me, mademoiselle.”
She pointed to the label on the bottle, which included a picture of a lily. “I think it’s my destiny to purchase this.”
“Why?”
“My Christian name is Lily. Lily Lambert.”
“Then by all means, you must have it.”
Pert dimples creased her cheeks. “Yes, I must.”
She gave him her money, and he gave her the remedy.
“Would you like to take two?” he suggested. “If the trip turns out to be as bad as you imagine, you might go through the first one rather fast.”
“I might indeed. I’d better have another.”
She put both bottles into her bag, then examined more of his merchandise. A curious sort, she liked to smell and touch and feel, and she actually had cash to spend. At any other time, he would have been ecstatic, but where the hell was Clarinda?
“Mr. Dubois! I swear you’re woolgathering.”
“Pardon, cherie
. You are correct. I am concerned about my sister. She’s off on an errand, and she is late in coming home.”
“Your anxiety is understandable.” She held up a vial. “What’s this?”
“Ah ...”—he had to force himself to focus—“it is my biggest seller, my Spinster’s Cure.”
“It
cures
spinsters? Of what?”
“If you swallow it while staring at the man you hope to marry, you will be wed within the month.”
She chuckled. “You’re joking.”
“Je suis serieux!”
“You seem like such a sane fellow. Surely you’re not claiming it has magical powers?”
He raised a finger in the air, trying to look stern and wise. “You have heard of the great lord Viscount Redvers.
Non?

“No.”
“His bride, Mary, was a spinster, but she drank the tonic as I instructed, and voila, she is now Viscountess Redvers and happily wed to the infamous nobleman.”
“Well, then, if it worked for her, who am I to quibble? I should have my own supply.”
She was smart and pragmatic, so she found him to be hilarious, deeming his assertions to be nonsense, but he didn’t particularly care if she believed or not.
Still, he said, “You laugh at me.”
“I laugh with you. I’m having fun.”
“You suppose my medicine is
faux
—false—but you will see.”
“I’m certain I will.”
“My Spinster’s Cure will aid you in fulfilling your wish to be married. You crave a husband, yes?”
“Of course. How did you know?”
“It is my job to know. You would like to have a home of your own, a cozy cottage in the country, with dogs and cats and three”—he halted and studied her—“no, four children.”
“You are absolutely amazing.”
“Aren’t I, though?”
“I’ll take two vials.”
“A prudent choice. A double dose can never hurt.”
He knelt under the shelf to retrieve a second vial when, to his surprise, he discovered a folded piece of paper stuffed between the jars. His name was on it, Clarinda’s handwriting clearly visible.
“What the devil?” he muttered.
He grabbed it and stood, banging his head as he rose.
“Ouch,” Miss Lambert commiserated, but he ignored her.
He ripped open the note, and as he read it, his temper flared.
“Oh, for pity’s sake.” He crumpled it into a ball and tossed it on the ground. “She is out of her bloody mind.”
“Who? Your sister?”
“Yes.”
“What’s she done?”
“She’s on her way to London”—he was so furious that his French accent was forgotten—“chasing after those accursed Hamilton sisters.”
“Honestly!” Miss Lambert said, as if they’d been discussing the Hamiltons all along. “What was she thinking?”
“I don’t know, but when I catch up with her, she’ll be sorry.”
“You won’t resort to violence, will you, Mr. Dubois? Not against your sister!”
“Not against her, but if I run into that arrogant Captain Odell, I will beat him to a pulp.”
“I’m sure he deserves it.”
“Trust me: He does. This is all his fault, hiring that Hamilton woman, then Hamilton putting ideas in Clarinda’s head. Didn’t we follow them here? For no good purpose, at all!”
He stomped off down the lane.
“Mr. Dubois!” Miss Lambert called. “Where are you going?”
“I’m off to the village to rent the fastest horse I can find. I must get to London right away.”
“What about your wagon?”
“I can’t worry about it at a time like this. Not when Clarinda could be in danger.” He gestured to the bottles and jars. “You may have whatever you’d like. Be my guest”
For a moment she was taken aback, then she grinned. “Thank you. I will.”
He spun away and hurried on.
Chapter 21
“SIT down and shut up.”
“I don’t feel like shutting up.”
“Well, I’m weary of listening to you, so be silent”
Tristan stared at Michael, and he was an inch away from stuffing a stocking in his mouth to keep him quiet.
He went to the sideboard to pour himself a drink, glad to learn that Lauretta Bainbridge stocked an excellent brandy. They were back at her brothel where it had all started, where—earlier in the summer—he’d stumbled on a desperate Helen Hamilton trying to sell herself.
After so much time had passed, it was either the perfect conclusion or the ideal punishment. Perhaps it was merely a pathetic attempt to convince himself that he hadn’t cared about her.
Tristan had meant to sail for Scotland immediately, to whisk Michael out of the country and have him far away from England and the trouble he’d caused, but there had been a delay in loading the cargo.
With Michael moping in Tristan’s small cabin, and Tristan fretting over Helen and the choices he’d made, Tristan had been at his wit’s end. A trip to the bawdy house seemed the best way to ease their stress.
Tristan was determined to prove that his sexual affair with Helen had been just that: a sexual affair. He refused to believe that there had been more to it, that he might have... loved her.
“You can pretend,” Michael nagged, “that you’ve fixed everything by dragging me off, but you haven’t”
“For the time being, I’ve gotten you away from Jane. That’s enough for me. We’ll work out the rest as we go long.”
“You can take me to Scotland. You can leave me there with no money and no acquaintances. You can even lock me in a dungeon under some old castle, but the moment I can arrange it, I’ll come back and find her.”

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