Taste of Temptation (47 page)

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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Clarinda stared at her brother, humored by his ill mood. He was still furious that she’d run off with Helen, but his pique was driven by the fact that he’d been afraid for her safety. He hadn’t calmed, and he was trying to hide his alarm by blustering and ranting.

“You have the gall to ask me what
lesson?”
he demanded. “How about this one: People like us aren’t meant to rub elbows with the aristocracy.”

“Why shouldn’t we? If our father was actually Duke of Clarendon, then our blood is bluer than Captain Odell’s.”

“Even if Mother’s tales were true—which I seriously doubt—we don’t need to court trouble. The rich have their own problems, and we shouldn’t meddle in them.”

Clarinda laughed. If Phillip found some benefit in claiming an exalted sire, he was the first to brag, but if he was making a different sort of point, they might have been street urchins who’d sprung from nowhere at all.

“I had a grand time,” she told him. “Quit fussing.”

He was standing by the wagon, labeling bottles of Woman’s Daily Remedy. In his race to locate her in London, he’d left the wagon unattended. When he’d returned to fetch it, most of their potions and herbs were gone. It was a sore spot for which she was being blamed.

He slammed down a jar and glared at her.

“As Miss Hamilton was being arrested, what if you hadn’t been able to slip away? What if that ass, Rafferty, had absconded with you, too? You’d have vanished into thin air, and I’d have spent the rest of my life wondering where you were.”

“Give me some credit, would you? I’m your sister. You taught me every devious trick I know. You think I couldn’t have sneaked out? Or that I couldn’t have gotten a message to you?”

“I’m not certain what I think anymore.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Very quietly, he said, “You scared me half to death.”

“I’m sorry.” She walked over and kissed him on the cheek. “Am I forgiven?”

“Yes, you’re forgiven. I’m just glad I’m your brother and not your father. You’d push me to an early grave. You might anyway.”

Clarinda hugged him, then grabbed an empty bottle and started filling it. They were down by the harbor, where they always did a brisk business. What with so many travelers leaving the country, women were especially anxious to bring along tonics.

“Mr. Dubois!” a voice called from the crowd. “Fancy meeting you here.”

A blond female hustled up, appearing harried and harassed.

“Bonjour, bonjour.” Instantly, Phillip adopted his French accent. “Mademoiselle Lambert, isn’t it?”

“How lovely that you remembered.”

“She stopped by when we were back at Hastings Manor,” Phillip explained to Clarinda. “On the day I went searching for you.”

“It was quite exciting,” Miss Lambert said, smiling at Clarinda. “I trust you’re his sister and that all has ended well?”

“Yes, everything is fine,” Clarinda replied.

“How did your wagon fare, Mr. Dubois? I was worried about you abandoning so many supplies.”

“We lost a few items,” Phillip stated, “but nothing that couldn’t be replaced. ”Why are you in London,
cherie
?”

“We’re sailing for Scotland.” She pointed to a ship where several passengers were climbing the gangplank, their trunks and boxes waiting to be loaded behind them.

“Scotland? In the autumn?”

“Hunting.” She pronounced it like a dirty word, and she wrinkled her nose in distaste as she indicated a tall, dark-haired man leaning against the ship’s rail. She whispered, “It’s Lord Penworth, my employer—the ogre I mentioned.”

“Ah,” Phillip commiserated. “He looks pleasant enough.”

“Only on the outside. On the inside, he’s a brute.”

“You’d better have some more of my Woman’s Daily Remedy for the journey.”

“I’d better. The first two bottles were extremely ... invigorating.”

Phillip handed over more of the elixir, and she slipped it into her reticule.

“Do you have the Spinster’s Cure I gave you?” he asked.

“Both vials.”

“Drink them as soon as you stumble on an interesting fellow with a steady income. You’ll be wed in no time flat, so you’ll be able to tell your tyrant of a boss to stuff it because you quit.”

“That’s my plan. Wish me luck!” She walked on, grinning and waving good-bye as if they were old friends.

They were so caught up in her happy farewell that they failed to discern the approach of another person. Clarinda turned away to discover that Captain Odell was standing directly behind her. She jumped.

“You might give a body a bit of notice,” she griped.

“Miss Dudley,” he curtly greeted. “Mr. Dudley.”

He was handsome as ever, attired in a blue coat and tan trousers, his black boots polished to a shine, but he was his usual taciturn, grumpy self.

Though he’d rescued Helen and Jane, Clarinda couldn’t move beyond the part he’d initially played in setting off the debacle.

He’d been eager to ruin Helen, but when push had come to shove, he’d deserted her like the worst cad. As far as Clarinda was concerned, he and his snotty ward, the exalted Earl of Hastings, could choke on a crow.

“What do you want, Odell?” Phillip snarled, not liking him any more than Clarinda did.

Odell flushed, as if he was embarrassed to be visiting them.

Arrogant bastard!

“I need to talk to your sister.”

“There she is.” Phillip gestured to Clarinda. “Have at it.”

“Privately,” Odell snapped.

“Anything you have to say to Clarinda, you can say in front of me.”

“It’s all right, Phillip,” Clarinda insisted. “I doubt he bites, and I’m dying to hear what it is.”

“Fine,” Phillip fumed, “but one wrong word, Odell, and I will beat you to a pulp.”

“You and what army?” Odell scoffed.

To prevent any fisticuffs, Clarinda grabbed Odell by the arm and dragged him away from Phillip. She kept on until she was certain Phillip couldn’t eavesdrop, then she whipped around.

“What is it?” she inquired.

“During your recent adventures, I’m assuming you spoke at length with Helen.”

“What of it?”

“I’m merely confused over ... over...” He stopped, flummoxed and unable to spit it out. “She’s very furious with me.”

“Of course she is. You behaved despicably.”

“Thank you, Miss Dudley. I’m aware of my shortcomings. I don’t need you enumerating them.”

“If you’re about to ask me to plead your case with her, I won’t. She’s better off without you.”

A muscle ticked in his cheek. “Your intervention is not necessary. I’m perfectly capable of resolving this on my own.”

“Are you?” Clarinda raised a brow, silently informing him that she deemed him a total incompetent.

“It’s just that Helen said the strangest comments to me, and I’m mystified by them. She mentioned three people—Ruth, Tim, and Lydia—and how they’d probably been
missing
me.”

“Good for her. I’m glad she found the temerity to accuse you to your face.”

“She acted as if I should know Tim and Ruth, but I don’t. And the only Lydia of my acquaintance is a former housemaid who worked for Lord Hastings. Have you any idea what she meant?”

Clarinda studied him carefully, taking in his candid gaze, his open posture. She was adept at reading emotion, her skill as ingrained as her brother’s. Odell was genuinely perplexed, and another layer of Maud Seymour’s cruelty was heaped on the top of the pile.

“By any chance, Captain, do you keep two mistresses, one in London and one in Edinburgh?”

“No.”

“I don’t suppose you have any illegitimate children?”

“No. Who told you I had?”

“The witch!” Clarinda muttered. She peered about and saw a crate nearby, and she led him over to it. “I have a story to tell you. It’s rather long. Let’s sit down, shall we?”

“All right.”

As she seated herself, she scowled at him. “Why are you so curious about Helen? What’s it to you if she’s angry?”

“I’m planning to marry her—if she’ll have me.”

Clarinda sighed. “Obviously, there’s a pertinent detail you haven’t heard about her relationship with Maud Seymour.”

“Oh no ...” he breathed. “I imagine this will be awful.”

“Very awful, but once you learn the truth, you’ll know exactly what to do.”

“ARE you still here?”

“Barely. I’m on my way to visit my ship.”

Phillip glared at Odell, wanting him to go away. By his very presence, he tempted Clarinda into a world that Phillip was determined she would never inhabit.

“I assume you’re finished with my sister?” Phillip asked. “I won’t have you pestering us.”

“Yes, I’m finished with her, but I have something I need to say to you.”

“What is it?” Phillip jeered, braced for an insult.

“Thank you.”

“Thank you?” It was the last remark Phillip had expected. “What for?”

“You helped Helen.”

Phillip glanced away, embarrassed. “I wasn’t helping
her
, precisely. I was simply searching for Clarinda.”

“Shut up, Dudley. Accept a compliment when it’s been offered and skip the obnoxious attitude.”

“Compliment accepted. Now bugger off, you rich oaf.”

“There are a few other things I have to get off my chest.”

“Such as?”

“I’m grateful to you for your assistance, so I’d like to show my appreciation.”

“How? Will you pat me on the back and buy me a pint?”

“No. Actually, I own a home in Scotland, but I’m staying in England for a time. Hopefully, I’m marrying, so I’ve purchased a small property here.”

“And ... ?”

“My house outside Edinburgh is empty, and I thought maybe you and your sister could move in and watch over the place. I’d pay you.”

Phillip’s initial response was to refuse, but he saw Clarinda over on the wharf, chatting with a pair of drunken sailors. He hated having her fraternize with the likes of Odell, but he hated her mingling with the dregs of society even more.

She was a duke’s daughter. Didn’t she deserve a fine house in a fancy neighborhood? After the itinerant life they’d led, he didn’t suppose she’d acclimate to four walls and planting roots, but shouldn’t she have the opportunity to decide for herself?

“We might be interested,” Phillip casually said.

“You know where my ship is docked, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“We’re taking up a load of cargo. You could sail with me, and my clerk in Edinburgh would get you settled. I need your answer by Thursday.”

“I’ll speak with Clarinda and let you know.”

The conversation should have been concluded, but Odell didn’t leave. They were by the wagon, the doors open to display Phillip’s merchandise. Odell was studying it intently.

“Was there something else?” Phillip inquired.

“I was ... ah ... wondering ... ah ...” Odell halted and shook his head. “Never mind. It was a stupid idea.”

“What was? Tell me.”

“Would you have a ... a ... love potion you could recommend?”

Poor Odell blushed from the tips of his hair to the tips of his toes, growing so red that he might have been roasting over a hot fire.

“Don’t say a word,” Odell barked. “Give me a blasted potion—if you have one—or be silent.”

“Are you going to marry that girl?”

“It’s up in the air. I need a little help to persuade her.”

“You need more than a little
help.
You need a bloody miracle.”

Phillip pulled out a vial of his favorite potion and handed it over.

“What should I do with it?” Odell asked.

“Slip it into her tea. She won’t stand a chance.”