Tempted (16 page)

“Tell me you feel nothing when we touch and I will leave you be, Mary Callahan.”

Mary whirled. Another flash of lightning revealed Alex’s face, his jacket, the shoulders dark and drenched with rain.

“Tell me, Mary Callahan. That is all you need do.” But she couldn’t. Lord help her, she couldn’t. He’d held her gently in his arms, cradling her when her feet hurt so bleedin’ bad she’d wanted to cry. He’d kissed her tenderly when he’d thought she was asleep. He’d lifted her chin, calling her more worthy than any other woman of his acquaintance. Until a few moments ago he’d treated her with more respect than any man before him.

Until a few moments ago.

And it was that which made her step back, that made her shake her head. Made her realize what a fool she’d been. For because of that very kindness, she’d thought— she blinked away another ridiculous tear—lord help her, she’d thought he might have actually come to respect her.

She should have known men like him didn’t respect lowborn females like herself.

“Go away, m’lord. Go away and never come near me again, for I’ve had time to review your ‘offer’ and I’ve decided that I must regretfully decline.”

He stiffened, she could see that though his face was shrouded in darkness. Could see the way his body tensed though only the dullest of light shone through the roof. Could tell that her answer wasn’t what he’d expected, no matter that she’d laughed in his face a few moments ago. It had been the hardest thing she’d ever had to do to force that laughter past her lips.

“I see,” he said.

“Do you?” she mocked, because, God help her, mockery was all she had. “That I doubt.”

“No, Mary, I do.”

“How could you possibly understand what it’s like to be me? To actually be tempted by your offer, but not because of the pleasure it’d bring me—oh, aye, I’m woman enough to admit that—but because of the luxuries it’d bring me. M’lord, do you have any idea what it’s like to be so hungry you’re half tempted to boil your boots, just so you’d have something in your stomach? To look down at the ground, spy a rotted vegetable and think that don’t look half bad. To be so hungry your mind seems to buzz, and your body to shake to the point that it’s all you can do to stay afoot, but that you can do nothin’ about because your last week’s wages were withheld?”

He didn’t say anything. But, really, what
could
he say? “When I first came to London,” she said, “I’d been trying to find work, but times were tough what with the war going on and trade interrupted. It seemed everyone were looking for work.”

She shivered, the clarity of the memory startling her. As if she stood back in London again, she remembered the dirty streets. The angle of the shadows as the sun sank behind buildings. The multitude of carriages going what seemed like twenty different directions at once. The cries of the street vendors. The mud and gunk that caught on the bottom of her half-boots and made them heavy and hard to walk. And the smell. Lord, the smell. “My stomach rolled with that hunger, and with every step I took, I was more afraid of not finding food than anything else. Starving I was. Literally, I think.”

He peered down at her and Mary found herself saying, “I would have done anything then for coin. Anything.”

He seemed to know where she was going, seemed about to ask her to stop, but she wasn’t about to stop. She’d begun the journey, now she’d finish it.

“The man came out of an alleyway. At first I didn’t see him. Truth be told, I was half-blinded by fear and exhaustion. But he made his presence known. Offered a shilling if I’d go with him and lift my skirts.” She shook her head. “And I actually considered it for a moment, I truly did, but in the end I couldn’t go through with it. I may have been raised a poor man’s daughter. I may not have the manners you gents call ‘grace,’ but I knew better than to go off with him.”

And here’s where the memory got vague. Here’s where, in her dreams, her nightmares began. “Only he didn’t want to take no for an answer. He dragged me into an alley, kissed me,” she swallowed, “touched me. But I hadn’t raised four brothers for nothing and watching them taught me a thing or two. I knew where to kick him, aye, and I didn’t hesitate to do it.

“He dropped fast enough, but by then others had gotten into the sport. They came from nowhere, pawing at me, grabbing me. One of them threw me onto the ground. Another held my hands above my head.”

She turned away, staring out the glass at the darkness beyond. “I think—I don’t know, the memory is foggy— but I think they began to argue over who would be first. By now they’d gotten most of my clothes off. I remember looking up, remember seeing a flake of ash fall down from the sky. It headed right toward me. I followed it with my eyes, wondering if it was snow, thinking how odd if it was for there wasn’t cold enough. I remember wanting to be that piece of ash, remember thinking how grand it would be to fly so free. And, I don’t ken, they must have decided who was to go first, because one of them lay atop me, and I remember feeling something on the inside of my thigh and I knew then, I just knew that I’d rather die than, than—” She couldn’t finish, just shook her head, amazed at how she could so perfectly recall the rage that had filled her. How that rage filled her once more.

“They must have thought me subdued. When I jerked away, my limbs slid through their grasp. I fought like a madwoman, screaming and yelling. I’d no idea what damage my fists could do. One of them fell. Another ran away. And then more arms were around me. I thought at first it was the first man, the one I’d kicked, but then I realized it wasn’t that at all.” She turned, met his gaze. “It were a man, a stranger. My screams had brought help at last. The man helped me to my feet, brought me to a watchman, even gave me a coin before he left, but do you want to know the irony of it all?”

He stared at her mutely.

“The watchman didn’t try to find my assailants. He wanted to charge me with solicitation.” She shook her head. “He thought I’d been trying to sell my wares, that things had gotten out of hand.”

It’d been a bitter lesson, and the rage she’d felt brought tears of anger to her eyes even now. “I was sixteen years old. Alone. Frightened. And this man thought I was a whore.” She swallowed tears.

“I got away that day, but I learned a valuable lesson, m’lord. I learned a woman only has two things of value in this world. Her mind and her morality. That day taught me that I didn’t have what it takes to sell myself to a man, and if you think the fact that you’re a lord changes that, you’re wrong. If anything, it makes me more determined to steer clear. So while I thank you for your offer, I must again, regretfully decline.”

She turned away then, though her limbs shook and her heart raced. Turned because it was time he realized something.

She was a fraud. Brave little Mary Callahan didn’t really exist. It was all an act, her sauciness meant to foist the image of a woman of the world. She’d learned while working side by side with men that the surest way to keep them at bay was to make them think she’d seen and done it all. Aye, and it had worked. Only now came a man that she couldn’t ignore, that made her wonder for the first time what it’d be like to be with a man. Made her wonder, lord help her, if she’d ever know.

Chapter Sixteen

Mary skipped breakfast that next morning. She couldn’t stomach facing either of their lordships. Besides, it wasn’t as if they were going anywhere. The roads were washed out. Again. At least judging by the amount of rain falling outside her window. Little rivers ran down the gravel drive, thick streamers of water falling from the cornices of the roof to land with a
splat.
She could see nothing of the hills they’d crossed, the clouds so thick and heavy they hung over the tops of the pines and elms like floating blankets.

Someone, one of the maids, likely, had furnished her with a serviceable brown gown, though how much longer it would be serviceable was anyone’s guess. The hem frayed so badly, she could sweep the floor with the streamers of threads that hung down. Brown slippers, too, had been given to her, the kind with drawstring around the ankle. They were old and worn, but—thank the Lord above—comfortable on her still sore feet, and at least she was able to walk a wee bit better this morn.

“There you are.”

Oh, no. No, no, no.

She turned, hands on her hips, clucking her tongue for a moment before she said, “Bloody hell. Have you no care for my privacy?”

The earl of Sherborne merely lifted a brow, saying, “That noise you make is truly extraordinary. And actually, no, I do not care. I need to ask you a question.”

“You didn’t even knock.”

“Why, when you would not have answered?” He smiled, Mary realizing that he looked a lot like Alex. Well, close. The earl’s hair had no gray, however, making him appear raffish rather than distinguished. The eyes were different, too. Green, they were. But both were tall, too, and broad in the shoulder. Yet, if Mary were to choose who was the more handsome, she’d choose Alex.

Alex, who wanted her to be his mistress.

She lifted her chin. “What do you want, m’lord?”

He strode into the room…well, glided, really, like a weasel slinking into a hen house. “I hear you refused Alex last eve.”

She crossed her arms in front of her. “Aye, and if you’ve come here to offer yourself next, you’re in for a disappointment.”

“Not at all,” he surprised her by saying, stopping before her, his eyes seeming to twinkle mischievously, though why she couldn’t fathom.

“Actually, I’ve come here to invite you to a ball.” She stiffened.

He nodded. “The locals in these parts hold an assembly Saturday nights. I thought you should like to attend since my own guests have abandoned me. Shocking lack of manners, that.”

She stared for the longest time, a million thoughts going through her mind.

“You want me to attend a ball?”

He nodded.

She felt her mouth snap like a lobster claw. “Lord above, you’re as daft as your cousin.”

“Am I? And here I thought I was the more intelligent one.”

“If you were the more intelligent one, you’d know I have no desire to be seen with either of your lordships.”

“Why ever not? I assure you, my dear, despite my reputation, I am very good
ton.
” He strolled deeper into her room. The flower arrangement on her dresser still gave off a fragrant odor of roses and lilies, his lordship reaching out to stroke one of the rose petals with a hand. His touch seemed almost gentle. Like a caress.

He turned back to her suddenly. “Well, what say you? Will you join me?”

“Have you not been listening? No.”

“Then I shall have to work harder to convince you.” So great was her irritation that she could think of absolutely nothing to say. Oh, but their lordships would frustrate a rock.

“Come now. It will be great fun.”

To that she said, “Oh, indeed, going out in this downpour would be quite amusing.”

“We shall use my carriage.”

“Fat lot that will do us when the roads are impassable.”

“Only the main roads. Our local roads will be tolerable enough.”

“And what shall I wear to this ball? My chemise?” His smile turned wicked. “Oh, I dare say something could be found.” That smile lasted a few seconds longer, his teeth as hale and hearty as the marquis’s. Then his face went suddenly lax. “Of course, if you’d rather stay cooped up in the house all day, trying to avoid my cousin, you may certainly do so. I should advise you, however, that you would no doubt give Alex a fit of apoplexy by agreeing to be seen with me. And does that not render such an endeavor worthwhile?”

His words almost poked a laugh out of her. Almost. “No, m’lord, it does not.”

“No? Too bad. Well then, what is it? If you’re afraid my intentions are less than honorable, you would be right, but I will gladly give you a small pistol to carry with you, loaded, of course, should my passions get the better of me.”

She did laugh then, though two minutes ago she wouldn’t have believed such a thing possible. “Why, m’lord? Why would you offer to do such a thing?”

He smiled again. “Because I should like to see Alex rattled about. Such a stodgy old man, and only one year younger than myself. And because, quite frankly, I enjoy bringing my paramours to these events, though not,” he quickly added, “that I think of you as such. It is merely that I rather like passing women off to the local gentry as members of the
ton.
It amuses me no end to see them curtsy to a commoner. Sometimes, I even put it about that they are uncommonly wealthy heiresses, and then you never saw such a bid for a woman’s attention. Quite amusing, actually.”

So he would bring her because she was common? Lord, that hurt. She told herself she was silly for letting it. After all, she’d be the first person to tell a body that she was no lady. But that didn’t mean she liked it thrown in her face.

She lifted her chin again, saying, “No, thank you, my lord,” in as cultured a tone as she could muster. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather spend the evening peeling my nails off my fingers.”

He jerked, blinked, then looked almost disappointed. “Are you certain?”

“Quite.”

The light in his green eyes almost seemed to fade. “As you wish, my dear,” he said with a bow. “Though I do believe you shall miss a most amusing time.”

“No doubt,” she said sarcastically. At her expense. Oh, the pompous, pompous ass. Their lordships insulted a body without even realizing it.

“If you should change your mind, you have only to say the word.”

She smiled tightly, nodding. And it was odd, for she had a feeling he stared at her most curiously then. Not at all like he had earlier. Then there’d been a sort of warmth to his gaze. But now he looked at her rather watchfully. Aye, like a man what didn’t know if cream or sour milk sat in a bowl before him.

Then he bowed again, turned on a booted heel, and left the room.

“You will not go.”

Lord
, Mary thought, turning away from the window again. Would they never leave her alone?

“I forbid it,” Alex said, striding into her room not five minutes later. And Mary felt the hurt return with a bloody vengeance. “You are a member of my staff, not someone to be …” he jerked to a halt, “to be trifled with.”

Member of his staff now, was she? My, how things changed.

“I insist you go to my cousin immediately and tell him that you’ve changed your mind.”

Mary’s temper soared. “I will do no such thing,” she said, realizing too late that by saying such a thing, she was committing herself to the earl. Her eyes narrowed. Why that crafty-faced fiend. He’d manipulated her into going. And she’d fallen for it, too. Marvelously fallen for it. But she’d be damned if she backed down now. “I am determined to go, m’lord, and go I shall.”

“You cannot.”

“Indeed, I can.”

“But you have no notion how to behave.”

That made her temper flare anew. “I assure you, my lord, I can behave as well as I ought.”

“You didn’t last night.”

That stung. Oh, how it stung.

He must have realized he might have insulted her, for he tried to change the subject by saying, “What will you wear?”

“I am told something will be provided.”

“I will not allow it.”

“You cannot stop me.”

And Alex could only stew. All morning long he’d wanted to come to her, wanted to see how she fared, wanted to beg her forgiveness, for he’d realized by the light of the morning that he’d behaved as a complete cad. And yet the first word he had of her came from his cousin, Rein seeming to be overjoyed that Mary Callahan was to join him at a ball. And then he’d come up here and insulted her further. Damn, but she rattled him.

“You do not know my cousin as I do, Mrs. Callahan. You would be wise to keep your distance.”

“I would be wise to keep my distance from all your relatives, I should think.”

And what to say to that? Likely she was correct, for even now he felt that damnable stirring for her that he always did. No matter that she’d refused his offer last eve, and refused it flatly. No matter that he knew, given her adamant stance, that an alliance with her was far from likely. Still, he could not seem to stop himself from admiring her. From wondering what it would have been like should she have said yes.

Lord, how I wish she’d said yes.

“Very well. If you insist upon this.”

“I do,” she said with a tilt to her chin, and she could look no more proud, no more full of herself than the haughtiest of society ladies. Indeed, if the gown she wore was not made of such poor fabric, if her hair had been dressed more elaborately, he would have been hard pressed but to think her anything but
haut ton.

She crossed to the door, standing by it in an obvious manner. “Goodbye, my lord. I wish you a pleasant evening.”

“And you, Mrs. Callahan,” Alex all but growled. And,
Demme
, he wished for a hat that he could cram upon his head—except he didn’t have one—or perhaps a walking stick to jab into the ground as he made his exit, something that would afford him some dignity as he made his retreat. Alas, he had neither.

So he left, brushing by her and trying not to remember what it felt like to stare into her eyes. To kiss her lips. To lift her chin with the tip of his finger.

She slammed the door behind him.

He jumped, more piqued than he could ever remember feeling. And the devil of it was, he felt jealous, too. He didn’t want her to step out with Rein. Nor with any man.

Damn it, what I want is for her to step out with me.

By the time lunch rolled around, Alex had worked himself into a fine fit of temper.

By teatime, he was ready to go to her again and demand she stay behind.

By the time dinner was announced, he’d convinced himself that he didn’t care. Mary Callahan could do whatever she wanted. She was his servant, by God, and as such beneath his notice. He should be concentrating on who had tried to kidnap him, and getting back to Gabby at the first possible moment, though he’d received a missive from his father that all was well and that he was taking great care to keep Gabby safe.

But that didn’t make him feel better.

And then Rein popped in his head right as Alex scooped himself to another stomach-bulging helping of beef. “We’ll be leaving in a few minutes, old man.”

Alex turned toward him.

Rein smiled sublimely. “Don’t wait up for us.”

Alex almost lunged at him. Bloody hell, his whole body tensed in anticipation of the move. For a moment he indulged himself in the fantasy of wrapping his hands around Rein’s throat, finger by finger. Of bashing his head against the floor again and again and again, before he reminded himself that Mrs. Mary Callahan was not his concern.

“Have a care for her feet.”

He looked up in time to see Rein straighten, his expression turning almost pleased for some devilish reason known only to himself. “Yes. Of course, though I’m hoping she’ll spend most of the night
off
her feet.”

The napkin in Alex’s lap became an instant substitute for Rein’s neck. So did the fork he held in his right hand, the soft silver bending.

“Enjoy your beef. Cook does an excellent job of making it look not at all like cow tongue.”

And then he was gone, only Alex could hear him out in the hall, whistling. Whistling, for God’s sake, as if his success with Mary was a foregone conclusion.

Ah, but he didn’t know what he was up against.

And neither did Mary.

And therein lay the crux of the problem, for it hadn’t been mere jealousy that had prompted Alex’s anger. Rein truly was an uncouth rogue. And while Alex was certain his cousin would never go so far as to force himself upon Mary, he was in no way certain that he would couch his interest in her in such a way that it would not be upsetting to her. Not certain at all.

“Devil take it,” he hissed.

“Is something the matter, sir?”

Alex glanced up. A footman in off-white and gold livery had entered the room, his expression one of concern.

“No, no. Everything is as it should be.”

Except it wasn’t. Devil take it, nothing was as it should be at all. He’d crossed a line with Mary, one that could never be taken back. And that line dictated that he look out for her. Watch over her, if you will, even if she had turned him down.