To Please A Lady (The Seduction Series) (18 page)

She smiled. “James, dear, we don’t have to do this.” Her voice was calm, gentle. “We don’t have to be intimate.”

His hands fisted at his sides. No, he had to do this, he
could
do this. He started toward her, undoing the belt of his wrap. “I can.”

She held up her hands, stopping him. “No. Cease. You’ve had a long journey, you’re tired, and honestly, I’m just not in the mood. What say you rub my shoulders and back instead?”

The relief he felt was immediate and unexpected. She lied, and she lied for his sake. Yes, he considered her a friend, but more surprising was the fact that she considered him a friend as well. Gratitude washed over him, warm and welcoming. Slowly, he sank onto the settee next to her.

She drew her fingers through his hair in a friendly fashion. “You are not an automaton, James. Sooner or later it was bound to happen.”

He closed his eyes and sighed, appreciating the gentle touch. “What was bound to happen?”

She was right; he was bloody tired. Perhaps with sleep things would look much better. Perhaps with sleep he could figure out what to do with Lady Lavender, his sister, even Eleanor.

“It was bound to happen that you’d fall in love.”

His eyes popped open. “I’m not…”

He bit back his response when he saw her teasing grin. With a frustrated sigh, he closed his eyes again, refusing to give into her taunting. Say what she would, but he was not in love with Eleanor. He wasn’t. It wasn’t possible because he had made up his mind long, long ago never to love again. Besides, he didn’t deserve to love, not when he had been responsible for his father’s death.

Chapter 9

The familiarity of her chamber did not offer the calming presence it normally did. The warmth of the fire, the softness of her bed, the scent of flowers from the garden, she had always been able to find a bit of peace here. Now it was all lost on her. For three days she’d remained in her bedchamber, taking her meals in her room, waiting for the bruises upon her face to heal. For three days the only person she had seen was Fanny, who brought her food and news. And Eleanor had found it difficult to care about either.

She settled at her dressing room table and gently touched the ugly green bruise that marred her right cheek, the worst of the lot. She’d fully expected Lord Beckett to return, but he remained gone from the house. Perhaps he felt guilty and that’s why he stayed away.

She released a harsh laugh. Guilt? No. More than likely Mrs. Handler was keeping him busy. Eleanor sighed, picking up her powder and dabbing it under her eyes, attempting to cover the bruise and dark circles from lack of sleep. It was awfully hard to hate Mrs. Handler, she was so like a clueless puppy desperate for
attention. Eleanor no longer felt angry, or even melancholy. No, she only felt numb, completely and utterly empty.

If only they would leave her in peace forever. If only she could continue her visits with James. But no, she was married, and James… James was most likely pleasuring another woman at this very moment. She pressed her hand to her belly, sick at the thought.

“My lady.” Fanny entered the room at a brisk walk, the confusion upon her face disarming.

Eleanor surged to her feet, her pulse pounding as she expected the worst, always the worst. “What is it?”

“There is a Miss Patience Brisbane here to see you.”

Not exactly what she’d been expecting. Eleanor frowned, her mind spinning. “I’ve never met her, have I?”

“I don’t know. She says she’s here with the jewelry you ordered.”

Something was odd, very odd. Yet she couldn’t deny that the name sounded familiar. A shiver of unease raised the fine hairs on her neck. “What does she look like?”

“A young, pretty thing with blonde hair and green eyes.”

The woman from the gardens the other day? Eleanor stiffened, shocked by the thought. No, it couldn’t be. Why would she be here now of all times? Her heart slammed wildly in her chest although she didn’t dare show any outward reaction. Suddenly she understood. There was only one reason for the woman to be here… blackmail. “I see.”

“Your husband has showed her to the parlor.”

“He’s home?” At Fanny’s nod, Eleanor resisted the urge to cry out.
No.
She prayed the girl had the good sense to lie. If she had to give her money to keep her mouth shut, so be it. She didn’t wait for Fanny to explain more but darted from the room, determined to get there before too much damage had been done.

Her palms dampened as she stumbled down the steps and toward the drawing room. If her husband uncovered the truth…
she’d be dead. Completely and utterly murdered, and the courts wouldn’t blame him for killing her. A cheating husband was ignored. A cheating wife was destroyed.

As her feet hit the marble floor she slowed, attempting to calm her racing heart. The guilt that she’d tried to bury surged to the forefront. Perhaps she deserved whatever she got. She had gone against the law, had gone against everything she had learned as a child in church. Her reputation would be crushed. Her husband’s name dragged through the mud.

She could hear the merry chatter coming from the parlor, easy conversation that was not heavy with damnation. The weight of fear ease slightly. She paused outside the door, just around the corner so she could not be seen.

“They’ve become quite popular, you know,” the girl said. “I’m not surprised your wife would wish to look them over. She is known for her fine fashion sensibilities.”

“Of course,” her husband replied. She recognized his tone, detached amusement. He’d always liked a pretty girl and Patience was certainly pretty. The poor child was at least twenty years his junior. A fox with a hare.

Eleanor took in a deep breath, folded her hands demurely in front of her, and entered. Patience was on the settee, Lord Beckett across from her in the light blue grandfather chair. On the table Patience had laid out a variety of necklaces and bracelets, pretty, delicate things. So, she had the good sense to bring props to go along with the lie. Eleanor’s gaze narrowed shrewdly; the girl was much cleverer than the young face implied.

Eleanor forced her lips up. “How lovely. You’ve brought your collection.”

“Indeed.” Patience stood and curtsied. There was certainly nothing seductive about her light green gown with the high lace neckline, but that didn’t stop Eleanor’s husband from looking her over like she was choice horseflesh. “ ’Tis an honor that you’re interested.”

“If you will excuse me.” Lord Beckett stood. “I shall leave the shopping to you ladies.” He bowed low, always charming around others, if not her. No, the world would never know the true man, because outside of these walls he was so bloody good at controlling himself.

“You are fortunate enough to have a husband who allows you such pleasures,” Patience said loud enough for Lord Beckett to hear as he left the room. Yes, the woman knew how to play the game that was her life.

“Very fortunate,” Eleanor said, sitting in the chair across from her.

“Here,” Patience said, lifting a particularly pretty necklace of fine silver and pearls. It looked like something a mermaid would wear. Ellie was startled to find the woman actually did design jewelry. “This would look lovely on you.”

Eleanor took the piece, and she didn’t have to feign interest in the delicate creation. It was beautiful and unique; she’d be envied by many of her acquaintances. They waited until they could no longer hear footsteps in the hall.

“Keep your voice low,” Eleanor said, rubbing her fingers over the smooth pearls. “He has spies.”

Patience’s brows drew together in obvious concern. She hated that look:
pity
. It made her ill. She despised knowing that people thought she was weak merely because she was trapped in a terrible marriage. Even this young chit barely out of the schoolroom understood the pathetic mess that was her life.

“What brings you here?” Eleanor demanded, in no mood to discuss her husband, or her life. She had no wish to play games with anyone.

“To sell my jewelry, of course!” She grinned and leaned closer. “You’ll have to keep one, so as not to look suspicious.”

Eleanor gave her a wry glance. Patience understood. Those keen eyes hadn’t missed a thing. “Very good indeed.”

Patience blinked, confused. “What do you mean?”

“This is a ruse then? You’ll blackmail me into buying your jewelry and what… telling my friends how wonderful it is?”

Patience shook her head. “No, of course not. I meant it. Keep the necklace, it would look beautiful on you. But I’m not here for that. I’m here…” She glanced at the open door and scooted to the edge of her seat, closer to Eleanor. “Are you aware that you have a strange gentleman staring at you from across the hall?”

Ellie glanced back. Graham stood in the shadows, watching. “Unfortunately he came with the property.”

“How very…”

How she wanted to hate this girl, but there was something utterly amusing about her boldness. “Frightening?”

“Indeed,” Patience whispered. She shook her head as if to clear her thoughts, then refocused on Eleanor. “I’m here to talk about James.”

Eleanor’s heart dropped to her feet, anger replacing her fear. She turned away from the girl and lifted an emerald bracelet, attempting to control her trembling hands. “Very pretty,” she said loud enough for whomever was eavesdropping to hear. “The thing with James,” she whispered to Patience. “Whatever it was is over. If you think to blackmail me—”

She looked truly startled, shaking her head quickly. “No, as I said, I would never do something so hideous.”

Wary, Eleanor slowly set the bracelet down. “Then why are you here?”

Patience hesitated, then glanced toward the open door one more time. “Has James ever told you about his past? How he came to be where he is?”

“A little.” She lifted a necklace in case Graham decided to come closer. “We’ve only met a few times, really. We aren’t that close.” It was a lie. A complete and utter lie. James knew her deepest secrets, things no one else would even contemplate. He could destroy her if he wished. Yet she trusted him utterly and completely. She set the necklace back down, bemused over her feelings.

“James and two other men, Alex and Gideon, were taken practically forced into prostitution at Lady Lavender’s brothel when they were still lads. Alex, my brother-in-law, is the only one who has found his freedom.”

Eleanor frowned. “What do you mean
forced
?”

“All I know is that Lady Lavender used manipulation and threats to keep Alex there. We have also uncovered that she might be doing the same to Gideon. Can you think of anything, anything at all that she might be using to keep James by her side?”

Eleanor shook her head, stunned. “He respects her. He seems content…” Her voice trailed off as the memory of her carriage ride with James came rushing back.

“Fortunately, Lady Lavender found me just in time. If it weren’t for her, my mother and sister would never have made it out of the slums. I probably wouldn’t have lived.”

“If it wasn’t for Alex,” Patience said, interrupting her musings, “we would have been destroyed. I owe my brother-in-law everything. It is his wish to see his friends freed from her bondage, and I am here to help, even though my brother-in-law will kill me if he finds out.”

Eleanor shifted, uncomfortable. What right had she to share James’s secrets? He’d trusted her when he’d told her about his mother and sister. “I don’t see what I have to do with this.”

She sighed. “I had hoped you might know something. James…” She frowned, beginning to pick up her jewelry and replace it in the basket she’d brought. “He trusts Lady Lavender, thinks she has saved him. But Alex and Gideon know better.” She pushed the necklace toward Eleanor. “Keep it. So it doesn’t seem suspicious.”

Eleanor’s heart hammered madly as she resisted the urge to tell this young woman everything she knew. She didn’t want her to leave, but how did she know she could trust her?

Patience stood and gave Ellie a tight smile. “It was lovely visiting. I do wish only the best for you.” She started to reach for her basket.

“Wait.”

Patience brought her arm back to her side. “Yes?”

“Please, sit.” Eleanor glanced at the door. Graham still lurked outside, but he wouldn’t hear if she kept her voice low. “James was rather poor. His father died; his mother had no means to provide for the family.”

Patience nodded, sitting on the settee.

“He works for Lady Lavender so that his mother and sister will be taken care of. Only…”

Patience waited for Eleanor to continue. The soft tick of the mantel clock was the only sound in the room. “What is it?” Patience urged when Ellie hesitated.

If she spoke the truth and it reached James, would he feel she had betrayed him? “His mother died years ago, yet Lady Lavender never told him.”

Patience frowned. “Where was the money going?”

Eleanor shrugged. Lord, she wasn’t even this nervous around her husband. A fine sheen of sweat gathered between her shoulder blades. She picked up the necklace Patience had given her and began to play with it, running her fingers down the fine silver chain. Her nerves were frayed, her heart pounding so hard she could hardly hear over the blood rushing to her ears. She prayed she had done the right thing by telling Patience the truth.

“You don’t trust her either,” Patience whispered.

Eleanor glanced up and gave her a wry smile. “I trust very few. But no, I don’t. It makes no sense to me. There are too many holes in the story. I only wish that James would see Lady Lavender for what she truly is, before it’s too late.”

Patience tilted her head, giving her a sympathetic smile. “So, you do care about him.”

Ellie flushed, studying the necklace intently. “I do.”

She might be stuck in this hell for the rest of her life, but that didn’t mean James had to be imprisoned as well. He could leave, and she had a feeling the truth would be the catalyst to set him free.

Patience took her lip between her teeth. Eleanor could practically see the younger woman’s mind spinning. “If we can find the sister, we might be able to find answers.”

Despite knowing it was better not to be involved, Eleanor couldn’t ignore the thrill of excitement that tingled through her body. She had the oddest feeling that they were close to uncovering the truth.