A Bluestocking Christmas (27 page)

“One thousand.”
 

Silence filled the room at Sebastian’s quiet bid. Slowly, he turned his head toward the marquess. The other man’s face was beet red with fury. Sebastian remained silent, taking care to keep his own features impassive. A moment later, Templeton shook his head at Chantrel.

“I have one thousand, do I hear more?” The brothel madame glee’s was evident as she glanced about the room. “Going once. Going twice. Sold to Lord Melton for one thousand pounds.”

The room erupted into a loud frenzy of conversation. At his side, Devin hissed. “For God’s sake, Sebastian. Do you realize what you’ve just done?”

“Yes.”

Devin stared at him in open mouth astonishment, but Sebastian turned away to watch Chantrel approach. Steeling himself for the matter at hand, he bowed as she stopped in front of him.

“My lord, you surprise me. I expected Helen to enchant everyone, but for you to pay so much for her, I never would have guessed it.”

Studying Chantrel’s jaded features, he frowned. Something about her reminded him of a well-fed cat expecting to indulge in consuming the mouse once it finished playing with the creature. Forcing himself to smile, he bowed. “Might we discuss our business arrangement in private?”

“But of course, my lord.” The woman laughed, her eyes gleaming with calculation. With a grim smile, he followed her out of the salon. As they walked down a narrow hallway, the train of her gown forced him to stay at least three feet behind her. Entering a private office, he took a seat in front of a large oak desk as Chantrel skirted the furniture to sit before him. The room’s lack of ornamentation was a clear indication of the seedier side of the woman’s business.

“Now then, my lord, shall we discuss the matter of payment?”

“Of course, I believe the bid was one thousand?” he said quietly.

“Yes, my lord, and I know you’ll find it money well spent.”

“I’m sure.” He nodded with derision. “Naturally, you’ll allow me to pay another thousand to take the creature off your hands permanently.”

The brothel owner started violently, her eyes narrowing. “I’m not sure I understand, my lord. The auction was for one night with Helen and nothing more.”

“Of course, but no doubt you’re an astute businesswoman, Chantrel. I’m sure you’ll agree that for an additional one thousand pounds, you’ll give—Helen, did you say— into my care permanently. I’d hate to see you lose any money over such a lucrative transaction as this.”

“I’m not sure how I could possibly lose any money, my lord.”

“Don’t you? I’m certain a business such as yours relies heavily on the discretion of its clientele when it comes to special events.” Sebastian flicked an imaginary piece of lint from the black broadcloth of his jacket before sending the woman a hard look. “It would be a tragedy if one of your patrons disclosed unsavory information to the authorities.”

He arched his eyebrow as anger twisted the woman’s face into an ugly mask, but there was a glint of fear in her eyes as well. When she didn’t respond, he pulled a wallet from inside his jacket. Removing a calling card, he leaned forward and picked up the quill on Chantrel’s desk. With fluid strokes, he wrote his marker on the back of the card and slid it across the desktop toward her.

“Have Helen and all her possessions placed in my carriage immediately.” He rose to his feet and headed toward the door.

“It appears you leave me with little choice, my lord.” Chantrel snapped.
 

Ignoring the woman’s bitterness, he left the office, the door closing quietly behind him. He moved down the corridor to the front hall at a furious pace. He was acting completely out of character tonight. What was he thinking to buy a woman like a prize mare? Devin was waiting for him in the foyer, and Sebastian quietly demanded his overcoat from the footman at the door. As the servant scurried away, he turned his head to study his friend’s grim features.

“So have you settled your account?” Devin sent him a look of disgusted disappointment.

“Yes.” Sebastian nodded. He chafed at the expression on his friend’s face. It wasn’t as if he intended to bed the woman. An image of her in his bed tantalized his thoughts for only a brief moment before he closed himself off to the idea.

“What the hell were you thinking to bid on the woman like that?”

“I couldn’t bloody well let Templeton have her, could I?” Sebastian glared at his friend. Retrieving his favorite watch from his vest pocket, he examined the face of the timepiece then snapped it closed.

“But what happens to her after tonight? I just learned the auction was for only one night with the woman.”
 

Ignoring his friend’s grim disapproval, Sebastian accepted his hat, cane and gloves from the footman. “The auction might have been for one night, but I bought her freedom.”

His friend stared at him with his mouth agape. Somehow, Devin’s stupor rankled deeper than he thought possible. Did people really think him devoid of compassion? Simply because he was meticulous and methodical didn’t mean he couldn’t feel sympathy for those in need. In all good conscience, he couldn’t have just left the woman for Templeton.
 

Angry, he scowled at his friend and the footman who was curiously watching their exchange. His behavior in the past hour had been irrational and impulsive—the exact opposite of his usual conduct. It was infuriating.
 

“And now that you’ve bought her freedom, what do you intend to do with her? You can’t just throw her out onto the street,” Devin snapped.
 

“Damn it, man, it’s not as though I’m completely without sympathy for the woman’s situation.” He tugged his white evening gloves on in a deliberate fashion and kept his eyes averted. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to see to my newly acquired charge. Although heaven knows what I’ve gotten myself into.”

The last sentence he muttered beneath his breath as he strode out the front entrance of the brothel. Descending the steps, he paced the sidewalk as he waited on his carriage. Damnation. What had he been thinking when he’d bid on the woman?

Templeton. He’d been thinking about how pleasurable it would be to steal the man’s coveted prize out from under his nose. And it was quite understandable why the marquess had wanted the woman. Images of a voluptuous thigh and full breasts teased his thoughts. Christ Jesus! Had he really bought the woman out of pity or because he wanted to rut with her? His body tensed at the erotic images darting through his head. Suppressing a groan, he tried to think about where he could send the woman. A place where she’d have the opportunity to make a respectable living.

The sound of his shoes scraping against the stone walkway grated on Sebastian, much in the way the entire day had. Attending to the woman’s needs was the first order of business, then he needed to formulate a plan to see if Chantrel was holding Caleb’s ladylove hostage. He’d gone into the brothel tonight to find one woman and had come out with a different one. Sebastian released a weary sigh and frowned as the face of the woman he’d just bought filled his head. There was something very familiar about her. Where had he seen her before? He shrugged with exasperation. It was unlikely he’d ever seen her before.
 

His pacing ceased at the sound of carriage wheels rumbling over cobblestone. What had happened to the self-control he prided himself on? The rest of the Rockwoods were habitual in their irrational behavior, but not him. Not since childhood had he succumbed to such illogical or unexpected deportment. Behind him, the door to the brothel snapped open. Sebastian immediately turned his head to see Devin leaving the establishment. The memory of his friend’s censure still stung. Irritated, Sebastian didn’t look at his friend as the man stopped at Sebastian’s side.
 

“Sebastian, I owe you an apology for questioning your intentions. I should have known better. You did right by the woman.”

“Perhaps,” Sebastian replied gruffly without looking at his friend. “Then again, perhaps not. We both know what sort of man I am, Devin. I’ve never had much patience with women, and I’m too old to start now.”

“Good God, Sebastian.” Devin laughed. “You’re only thirty. Hardly a doddering old man.”

 
“Then why the hell do I feel so Goddamn old?” Far from feeling humorous about his present situation, he opened the door of his carriage as it halted in front of him. “I’m not equipped to deal with a female guaranteed to wilt at the sound of my voice.”

Without waiting for Devin’s reply, he climbed into the vehicle and threw himself onto the padded leather seat. Across from him sat his high-priced acquisition. He barely cast a glance in her direction before staring out the window. What in blue blazes was he going to do with her?
 

He sighed wearily and closed his eyes. With the woman’s addition to his household, his schedule would be in shambles tomorrow. Louisa would no doubt attempt to take his new charge under her wing, which meant explanations. Then there was the problem of seeing to her clothing, determining what skills she possessed, and finding her employment. Why the devil hadn’t he just contacted the police? Then the woman would be someone else’s problem. The answer irritated him. He didn’t want her to be someone else’s problem.
 

Annoyed with himself, Sebastian clenched his jaw at the thought. No, he’d simply not been thinking clearly at Chantrel’s. Lust and a desire to thwart Templeton had driven him to buy her. But he was in his right mind again. Sebastian’s gaze shifted back to the woman opposite him. A veil obscured her features. He clenched his jaw as he acknowledged the fact that it made her even more enticing than when she’d been on display at the private auction.
 

She hadn’t moved since he’d climbed into the carriage. Come to think of it, she’d not even uttered a sound. What was wrong with her? Something inside him stirred. He wanted to see that succulent figure of hers again. See those wide green eyes. See if she truly was worth the one thousand—no, two thousand pounds he’d paid.
 

“Lift your veil,” he commanded. When she didn’t move, Sebastian bit the inside of his cheek. Didn’t she realize he was trying to help her? “Helen, is it? I simply want to see your face when I talk to you.”

Still she didn’t stir. She could have been a statue if not for the soft flutter of her veil from her breathing. Outside, the clouds parted and moonlight suddenly streamed through the carriage window. The cape she wore had fallen open to reveal her barely covered voluptuous curves, and he sucked in a sharp breath as the glow of the moon poured over her.

Up close, Helen’s body was every bit as sensuous as he remembered. Sebastian’s gaze lingered on the rose-colored tips of her breasts. They were stiff beneath the sheer fabric, and his fingers itched to touch her. Would those delicious nipples taste hot against his tongue? Instinctively he knew tasting her right now would give him more pleasure than he’d had in a long time. Far too long. It had been months since he’d parted with his last mistress.
 

That’s
why Helen had captured his interest. She intrigued him. Tempted him.
Christ Jesus, how she tempted him.
Just the sight of her sitting across from him wearing next to nothing made him rock hard. His gaze dropped to the apex of her thighs and the dark curls visible through the sheer white fabric of her chemise. The sudden thought of filling her with his cock made his mouth go dry. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted a woman as badly as he wanted this one.
 

Mesmerized by the erotic visions flashing through his head, Sebastian stretched out his hand toward her. Lightly, his fingertips brushed across one nipple. A second later, he jerked back. Bloody hell, he’d lost his mind. He’d rescued her from Templeton to spare her this exact behavior. Now he was acting no better than the marquess. Angered by his lack of control, he gritted his teeth. With a sharp movement, he pulled the veil away from Helen’s face.
 

A cloud passed over the moon, casting her features into the shadows. When moonlight drifted through the window once more, he stared at her face. Society would never deem her a classic beauty, but there was something compelling about her large, almond-shaped eyes. Familiar eyes. Where the devil had he seen her before? Outrage glistened in the deep green of her eyes, and he waved his hand in a gesture of exasperation.
 

“I’m not going to eat you.”
 

Although that was
exactly
what he wanted to do. He wanted to slide his mouth over every inch of her. He longed to suckle her nipples until she cried out with pleasure. Stroke that tender nub between her folds until she coated his fingers with hot cream. He swallowed hard at the images flooding his head.
 

With greater difficulty than he was accustomed to, Sebastian pushed the images out of his mind and waited for her to speak. Frustration evident in her luminous eyes, a single tear trickled down a pale cheek. Bloody hell, she was going to cry. The memory of the auction made him grimace. He supposed it was to be expected.
 

She reminded him of his sisters when they were upset. How many times had he wiped tears off Louisa’s cheek in particular? Every time a woman cried, he wanted to leave the room until they stopped wailing. It was damned uncomfortable listening to them sob. He abruptly stretched out his hand to wipe the tear away.