To Please A Lady (The Seduction Series) (14 page)

“So very lovely,” he whispered.

Eleanor her fingers into the soft curls at the base of his skull. She didn’t care about being caught. She only cared about being closer to James. Just when she was ready to beg him to take her in that alley, he tore his mouth from hers. Their harsh breaths mingled so that they breathed in each other’s very essence. She had to resist the urge to latch onto his lapels and demand he kiss her again. To demand he take her to a hotel, a carriage, anywhere, and finish what he had started.

For one long moment they didn’t speak. There was no need. She knew he’d forgiven her for interfering. Then slowly he reached up, and with trembling fingers he lowered her veil. The wall between her world and his was back in place.

“Come, before you’re missed.” He took her hand and led her toward the street, merging within the afternoon crowds. His touch was softer, his steps less hurried.

He didn’t speak a word as he hailed a passing cab for the third time that day, and neither did she. After all, what could she say? When a coach stopped, he helped her inside, even paid for her fare, and then stepped back.

For the second time that day, James was sending her on her way, back to a life she despised. Eleanor brushed aside the curtain and gazed out onto the street. James had already turned and was heading back toward London, toward the woman who owned him. He disappeared into the crowds.

Bereft, Eleanor let the curtain fall back into place as the hack jerked forward. James and she were very much the same, she realized with some sadness. Both of them were trapped, controlled by others. How would he uncover the truth if Lady Lavender lied? The hack turned the corner, headed toward her part of town. She wondered sadly if she’d ever see him again. Most likely not.

“Oh Aunt Jeanie,” she whispered. “What am I to do?”

She mightn’t be able to help herself, for she was trapped in marriage and the law was not on her side. But perhaps, just maybe, she could help James.

For the first time in a long while Eleanor felt as if she had something to live for after all.

Chapter 7

“I’m rather bored of London,” Ophelia proclaimed as they strolled through Cremorne Gardens. It wasn’t surprising; she bored easily, and they’d been forced to endure the whims of the exotic Lady Lavender. “I think it’s time to return home.”

In other words, she had found the information they had needed, and she was done with the vile city. She might have her answers, but he didn’t. Last night he’d intended to question her about his mother’s death but had found he couldn’t quite mange to even say the words. Instead, he’d spent the night staring at the ceiling, wondering if it could possibly be true.

James escorted her away from the dancing platform and the overly loud laughter of the participating visitors. Away from the brilliant lamplight and into the shadows. Away from the orchestra playing in the kiosk in the middle of the gardens. He didn’t blame her for wanting to return to Lavender Hills. Although the estate was filled with men, it was actually rather peaceful and, when there were not clients present, uneventful.

“Are you sure?” He kept his voice relaxed, calm; in reality he itched to escape. London had become a nightmare, a reminder of
his failures, a reminder of a past he’d rather forget. He’d sold himself, given up everything, yet his mother had still died. Dear God, she was dead. He’d thought if he took the position with Lady Lavender he could save them. He could save no one. Not his mother. Not his sister. Sure as hell not Eleanor.

Eleanor.

Her face flashed through his mind. The way she’d looked outside that tea shop with her bonnet askew, her lips red and swollen from his kisses. He’d practically taken her in a dirty alley as if she was nothing but a common whore. The guilt he felt was overwhelming. He resisted the urge to press the heels of his palms to his face. His eyes burned in their sockets from lack of sleep. All night he’d paced, back and forth in his hotel room, the emotions swirling within his gut unnerving. He couldn’t allow himself to grieve, to get angry… he couldn’t allow himself to lose the one thing he had retained all these years… control over his emotions. His carefully constructed façade was crumbling.

“Yes, I’d like to leave.” Ophelia sighed. “There are things I need to attend to back at the estate.”

He led her down a path, strolling past a juggler. And so he would smile, he would escort her through town, he would return to Lavender Hills, and he would fuck as many women as he could and try to forget. But first, damn it all, he was getting answers. “Is Gideon being difficult?”

She sighed, rubbing her forehead much like a perturbed child. “When isn’t he?”

She did not speak further upon the subject and he knew better than to question her. He turned left, down a narrow trail. Lamplight pushed at the darkness and gave the area an ethereal glow. In the gardens, on these shadowed and deserted paths, no one would hear their conversation.

“Don’t be a damn idiot, James,”
Gideon had snapped at him only a few months ago.
“You follow her around like she’s a bloody martyr when she’s nothing but a demon in a beautiful gown. She’s
using you and someday you’ll see that. I hope for your sake it’s not too late.”

The man’s warning echoed through his mind. Only now did he begin to wonder if perhaps he had been the idiot Gideon claimed. No, Lady Lavender hadn’t lied. What would be the point? Unless she thought to spare his feelings.

“James, is something the matter?”

He didn’t pause but continued to lead her down the path. “My mother is dead.” He said it casually, waiting to see how she would respond.

She paused, forcing him to stop. “Whatever do you mean?”

Was the shock in her eyes feigned? It was hard to tell in the dim lighting. “The other day when I was lost in London”—he’d lied and she’d believed him because he’d never lied to her before—“I’d ended up in an old childhood haunt. I happened upon a couple I’d known when I was young. They mentioned my mother’s death.”

“Oh James.” She rested her hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry.”

The crease between her eyes, the pout of her lips… it all looked sincere. Did he believe her? Did he trust her? “You didn’t know?”

She pressed her clasped hands to her heart in shocked dismay. “Of course not!”

They started forward once more. What reason did she have to lie to him? None. So why did he feel as if she did? “Then where, exactly, is the money going?”

“The same place it’s been going. The same address in Bath.” She rested her hand to her temple, sighing. “James, are you sure your mother has died? Perhaps it was a misunderstanding.”

Her words brought with an unwanted spark of hope. “Perhaps.” He took in a deep, shuddering breath and followed the path as it wove around a cluster of yew trees. “I think it would be beneficial if you sent Wavers to check on the matter.”

And there was her hand on his arm once more, the woman attempting to soothe his agitation. He’d seen her do it before to
other men, a touch here or there. When she used her charm, the woman could accomplish anything. “Yes, immediately. I’ll have him travel to Bath tomorrow to make sure your sister, at least, is getting the money.”

She didn’t realize that he knew all of her tricks. Damn it all if his suspicion didn’t return full force. He’d had a decent life, he’d been content knowing he was providing for his family. Now, all because of a woman with blue eyes, his entire world had flipped upside down. “Perhaps I should go along.”

“You could, of course.” Her eyes were large and luminous with their feigned innocence. “But are you truly prepared to tell your sister the truth of what you are, where you’ve been, and what you’ve been doing?”

He clenched his jaw, fighting his anger. He refused to feel ashamed of what he did. After all, he sold himself for his family. He bore it willingly knowing that he was providing for his mother and sister. But to realize now that it might have been for nothing… aye, he wanted the answers, but he could admit he didn’t want his sister to know the truth.

“Perhaps you’re right,” he said. “Perhaps she doesn’t need to know quite yet.”

She squeezed his hand gently. “Of course.”

They continued down the path, headed back toward the festivities. He’d always been highly aware of the way people avoided his gaze, noticed even now how women turned their heads away. He lived in a world of secrecy and shame. Aye, it was not the first time he had noticed, but it was the first time he cared. Ophelia was right, he could not reconnect with his sister. But he would make sure she was well and cared for. And he bloody well would find out the truth about his mum.

“I am truly sorry, James.”

He forced himself to smile down at her. “I know.”

For a long moment, they stood on the outskirts watching people dance, and he pretended to enjoy it because he was so
bloody good at pretending. A few families remained, but most of the visitors were those who teetered on the fringes of society, people like him. Men willing to sacrifice their reputations for a taste of the wilder sort of life. Women who had lost their innocence long ago.

“Cremorne Gardens, have you been?”
he’d asked Eleanor only yesterday, in hopes that he might see her again. But of course she didn’t visit disreputable gardens in the middle of the night.

“Of course not.”
She had shot him down immediately.
“It’s not exactly a place for someone like…”

Her
, a voice inside his head whispered. It wasn’t a place for someone like her.
He
wasn’t a man for someone like her. She’d come into his life much like a storm, knocking down walls, uprooting trees, leaving him baffled and confused.

“Will you be a dear and get us some sherry, James?”

“Yes, of course.”

He left her in the capable hands of her bodyguards who always followed silently behind, and headed toward the stand selling drinks. It was hard to believe Eleanor lived somewhere within this city. Harder to believe that she had traipsed through London intent on finding his family. She barely knew him; why would she care?

Eleanor.

She was like no woman he’d ever met. A veritable Joan of Arc. He respected her, he actually enjoyed her company, and he was most certainly attracted to her. And in all likelihood he would never see her again. But then it shouldn’t have bothered him; there were very few people who were a constant in his life. Clients visited, enjoyed, and left while he remained stuck in time.

“Why don’t you respond to Alex’s letters?”

Startled, James spun away from the stand and toward the voice. A beautiful, young blonde in a light green gown stood next to him. Eighteen, nineteen, perhaps? He glanced around, looking for her escort, but could see no one. “Pardon?”

The graceful arch of her brows, the fullness of her lips… she seemed vaguely familiar. He supposed she could have been a client, but none that he remembered.

“Alex’s letters. I’m Grace’s sister, Patience.” James was stunned speechless. She shifted closer while glancing around the clearing, no doubt making sure no one noticed their conversation. “Now… why haven’t you responded?”

Confused, he wasn’t quite sure how to extricate himself from the odd situation. “I have responded.” Alex’s sister-in-law? Horrified, he looked away, not wishing to be caught in conversation with the woman. This was absurd even for Alex. Did he not realize the consequences if his sister-in-law was caught?

“I knew it.” She rested her right hand smugly upon her hip and drummed her gloved fingers. “We didn’t receive any.”

He didn’t understand what she was getting at, and frankly didn’t give a damn. “Where the hell is…” His voice trailed off as he spotted the comely shape of a beautiful woman weaving her way in and out of the crowds. The sway of her hips in her brilliant blue gown with bold gray stripes, the low neckline of her bodice… a woman with a veil covering half her face, so that only her full, lush lips showed. A heated flush crawled painfully slow through his body. Dear God, was he imagining her?

“Who is she?” Patience asked, startling him once more.

“Who?” He was so bloody confused he wasn’t sure where to look, what to say. He tore his gaze from Eleanor as she moved onto a trail, disappearing from sight. What was she thinking… visiting the gardens alone? The urge to rush after her overwhelmed him. James curled his fingers so tight, his nails bit into his palms. She was not his to protect, never would be.

“The woman you were staring at. Who is she?”

Shite, if Patience had noticed his interest in Eleanor, had others? He glanced around the garden, searching the laughing faces, sheened with sweat and liquor. No one was looking his way. Even
Lady Lavender was in deep discussion with a young man. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She lifted a cocky brow and grinned. “A client?”

“How…” He shook his head, horrified. “Alex told you?”

She shrugged. “No, I uncovered it myself.”

“Dear Lord,” he whispered.

He hadn’t even been this uncomfortable when he’d slept with his first woman. So, the chit knew the truth… he was a whore. Shocking enough. Even more shocking was the fact that Alex would allow her to attend the garden party.

“Who is she?” Patience whispered. “Are you in love?”

James felt heat crawl up his neck. “That is none of your business, and I really suggest you turn away before someone notices that you’re talking to me.”

She waved her hand through the air, dismissing his comment. “Oh, that? I don’t mind what people think or say. ’Tis all just silly gossip anyway.”

“Well I do.”

She laughed, a sound that drew more than one man’s greedy gaze. “Are you worried I’ll ruin your reputation?”

James gritted his teeth. “Unless your brother-in-law has recently gone mad, I suggest you hightail it back to his side at once.” He stepped threateningly close to her, more than vindicated when she shrank back. “And tell Alex to mind is own damn business.”

“It’s just me. I came to London to try and sell my jewelry. I have an escort of course. An older cousin twice removed.” She nodded toward an elderly lady standing near the dancers. If the woman’s confused glance was any indication, she hadn’t a clue what she had been getting into when she’d agreed to this night.