A Season for Sin (5 page)

Lately, it seemed to her that Justin had become contrary for no particular reason. Until recently, he’d always been well-mannered and courteous. She supposed it was partly due to his need to establish his independence. At seventeen, she’d thought he would be over the most trying age, but ever since he’d taken up with his new friends, Justin had become intractable and difficult.

The bell rang. Laura smoothed her skirt and noticed that Justin was still slouching. She did not remark upon it as she knew full well he meant to needle her, and she refused to play juvenile games with him.

When the butler appeared, Laura and Justin rose. Then she turned to see a slender, gray-headed woman dressed in a violet gown with a high neck. Laura curtsied. “Welcome, Lady Atherton. It is a great pleasure to meet you at long last.”

“Oh, my dear, I enjoyed all of your letters,” she said, kissing the air by Laura’s cheeks. “You’re as beautiful as I imagined.”

Laura blushed. “Lady Atherton, may I present my stepson, Viscount Chesfield.”

He bowed. “I am honored to meet you, Lady Atherton.”

“Oh, my, what gentlemanly manners,” Lady Atherton said.

Laura was still miffed at him for his earlier sulking, but at least his behavior now was all that it should be.

“He does have the look of his father, God rest his soul,” Lady Atherton said. “Well, Lord Chesfield, you have grown into a very handsome young man. I know your stepmama is very proud of you.”

“Please be seated,” Laura said. “I will ring for a tea tray.”

Lady Atherton sat on the sofa next to Laura. “Do not bother the servants, dear. I won’t stay overly long. I wanted to invite you to shop with me tomorrow. I know all of the best milliners and dressmakers. Also, I have brought a formal invitation for you and Justin to attend my annual ball on Friday. I daresay it will be a grand squeeze again. Do say you will attend.”

“Certainly, we will attend,” Laura said.

“I’m sure all the young belles will be delighted to make Lord Chesfield’s acquaintance.” Lady Atherton rose. “Until tomorrow. Good-bye, Lord Chesfield.”

Justin kept his expression impassive until Lady Atherton departed.”I don’t wish to attend Lady Atherton’s dull affair,” he said.

Laura drew in her breath and released it in an effort to control her temper. “Do it to honor your father and me.”

“Very well,” he grumbled.

“Join me for a walk in the park. It will do us both good,” she said.

“George is taking Paul and me in his new curricle to Rotten Row.”

Disappointment stung her, but she mustn’t let it show. “I understand,” she said. “Don’t forget we dine at eight.”

“Paul invited me to a card party at his parents’ home. I’ll dine there,” he said.

She tried to temper her frustration, but his thoughtlessness rankled. “I planned supper earlier. Why did you not tell me before?”

“I forgot.” He walked over to the window. “George is here. I’m off.”

She followed him to the landing and watched as he bounded down the stairs. He crossed the great hall without a backward glance and disappeared from her sight. She longed for days gone past when she’d taught him to play backgammon during his summer breaks from school. On sunny days, the two of them would take long walks while a nurse watched over her ailing husband, Phillip. Every night, she and Justin had sat by Phillip’s bedside while she read aloud to them. They had needed her, and she had felt fulfilled, knowing that she’d provided comfort and cheer to her little family.

Laura wrapped her arms around her waist, returned to the drawing room, and shut the door. She donned her shawl and walked to the fire to warm her hands. Prior to traveling to London for the first time, she’d envisioned seeing all the sites with Justin. She felt foolish for believing he would be delighted to accompany her. Now she felt isolated in this rented house and bustling, crowded city, where she had only one friend. She ought not to feel sorry for herself, but she was lonely and a little heartsore that Justin was pushing her away.

“Oh, Phillip, I wish you were here. You would know how to deal with him.”

But her elderly husband had become too ill and would not have been able to handle a recalcitrant young man who was neither an adult nor a child. And Justin’s guardian had taken no interest in providing guidance.

“Better me, than a relative who neither cares nor loves him,” she whispered to no one.

After an interrupted night’s sleep, Bell spent the better part of the afternoon yawning in Parliament while listening to a gentleman’s petition to divorce his wife. Several witnesses attested to her engagement in
criminal conversation
, a foolish euphemism for adultery. Naturally, the wife in question had no say in the proceedings. The husband wanted to rid himself of his unfaithful wife so that he could marry another. They had even brought in witnesses, though what they had actually seen remained a mystery to Bell.

Lord Walpin leaned over to Bell and muttered, “Why the devil does he want another wife when he couldn’t satisfy the first one?”

“Maybe he’s having trouble hoisting the sword and blames her.”

Walpin nodded. “A likely scenario. Little wonder she sought her pleasures elsewhere.”

When the session finally ended, Bell visited his tailor to order new shirts and then patronized Hoby’s establishment to get measured for a new pair of boots to replace the ruined ones. Afterward, he went to White’s and ordered his usual beefsteak dinner along with a glass of claret. The aroma of sizzling beef made his mouth water. As he tucked into the steak and boiled potatoes, he thought of his former chef’s words about his boring eating habits. The memory of his insolent chef still rankled.

When he finished his meal, he decided to order a slice of cheesecake. He rarely ate dessert, but he recalled eating cheesecake last spring when he’d dined with Will and his wife, Amy. After the waiter brought it to him, he forked a bite into his mouth. The creamy almond filling together with the slightly salty crust tasted sinfully rich. He took another bite and closed his eyes while savoring the confection.

Footsteps thudded on the carpet. He opened his eyes to find Harry and Colin grinning at him. He felt a bit abashed, but he’d be damned if he showed it.

“Lord, you look blissful,” Harry said. “Must be delicious.”

“It is,” Bell said. “Will you join me?”

“Absolutely,” Colin said.

Bell had surprised himself. Ordinarily, he would make some excuse to leave unless he’d planned to meet someone. He wasn’t an impulsive sort of man, but he suddenly realized that his two oldest friends had been spur-of-the-moment fellows.

“We owe you a drink,” Harry said.

Bell shook his head and motioned for the waiter. “Bring a bottle of brandy for my friends.” Then he noted Harry’s glum expression. “I gather you’re suffering from the bottle ache.”

“Yes,” Harry said in a mournful tone.

“He drank half a bottle of claret last night,” Colin said.

Bell pulled a face. “The devil.”

“It was on account of his latest romantic disaster,” Colin said.

“Ah, I recently parted ways with a mistress. It will blow over,” Bell said.

“No, that’s not it,” Colin said. “Harry falls in love at the drop of a glove. Two nights ago, he fell hard for Mrs. Donovan after seeing her portrayal of Viola at Drury Lane.”

“I was struck by Cupid’s arrow at the sight of her in breeches,” Harry said. “Her bottom twitched in a most seductive manner.”

“Let me see if I have this correct,” Bell said. “You fell in lust with Mrs. Donovan’s derriere.”

Harry nodded. “Oh, yes. I meant to make her an indecent proposal tonight, but now I must adore her from afar.”

“He means he must adore her twitching bottom from afar,” Colin said.

Bell laughed. “I’ll probably regret asking, but why from afar?”

The waiter brought the brandies. After he left, Colin sipped his brandy and continued the story. “After last night’s debacle, Harry has pockets to let.”

Bell leaned toward Harry. “Are you saying all of your money is in the river?”

“No, I believe it’s in the hands of a woman I met at Vauxhall last night,” Harry said. “I was rather distracted by her roving hands.”

“He means her thieving hands,” Colin explained.

Bell guffawed.

Harry sighed. “Oh, well, I’ll survive—somehow.”

“So now I know how you ended up penniless in the waterman’s boat. Do you have no money at all?” Bell said.

Harry shrugged. “I’ll manage until my cousin releases my quarterly funds.”

Bell finished his brandy. “Why not request an advance?”

“Because my cousin, the Earl of Granfield, and I are not in accord,” Harry said. “Don’t get me wrong. Granfield isn’t a bad sort, but all he talks about are his precious pigs. The man is a bloody bore, if you’ll pardon the pun. He wants me to live in his grand manor house in Cornwall and stomp about the pigpens. He names the ugly black sows, for pity’s sake. Last summer, I thought I’d never get the smell of pig dung out of my nostrils.” Harry sighed. “I may never eat bacon again.”

Bell’s shoulders shook with laughter.

“On the bright side, I have five jolly female cousins,” Harry said. “They’re always up for a lark.”

“I can loan you whatever blunt you need, Harry,” Colin said.

“I take it you’re old friends,” Bell said.

Harry grinned. “Since Eton.”

Bell nodded, thinking of his longtime friends Will and Fordham. They had been a merry trio since boyhood. Now his oldest friends had taken a different path, and he felt as if he were treading water. He scowled at the sentimental bent of his thoughts. The devil. He’d never intended to traipse down matrimonial lane. There were plenty of benefits to being a free-wheeling bachelor. If he wanted, he could keep a harem and have a different woman every night. Or perhaps two at once. His groin tightened as he imagined two naked women in his bed.

“What is this wicked grin?” Harry said, exchanging a glance with Colin.

Colin wagged his brows. “He looks almost diabolical.”

“Gentlemen, what would you say to patronizing the theater? I’m in search of a new mistress—or two.”

“Oh, ho,” Harry said. Then he looked at Colin. “How much can you loan me?”

“I’m not paying for you to keep a mistress,” Colin said in exasperation.

“One night, then,” Harry said. “How much does one night cost?”

“Keep your trousers buttoned. You can’t afford an hour, much less a night,” Colin said.

Bell arched his brows. “Maybe you could loan him enough for a quarter of an hour.”

“Only if you’ll time him,” Colin said.

Bell reached inside his coat and flashed his watch at Harry.

“Go to the devil,” Harry said, grinning.

“How about Drury Lane instead? I know an actress who will admit us inside the lady’s dressing room,” Bell said.

At Drury Lane, Bell surveyed the theater, noting the wax dripping from the chandeliers suspended along the boxes. A man walking below yelped. Bell supposed the management was too tight-fisted to add glass shades.

“This is lavish,” Colin said as he settled in a red velvet chair.

Bell claimed a chair and signaled the footman, who brought champagne for them.

Harry stood at the balcony. “There are a number of lonely ladybirds sitting in the pit.”

“Maybe Colin will loan you a guinea,” Bell said and sipped his champagne.

Harry spun around and grinned. “I’m good for it, I swear.”

Bell and Colin burst out laughing.

“I can’t help it; I’m desperate,” Harry said. “Do you know how long it’s been?”

“No, and I don’t want to hear your confession,” Colin said.

“We’ll visit the dressing rooms at intermission,” Bell said. “Take a seat. The curtain is rising.”

Tonight,
The Tempest
was playing at Drury Lane, but no one paid much attention, as most of the beau monde was too busy gossiping and watching one another. Bell liked Shakespeare’s plays, especially the comedies. His favorite was
Twelfth Night
. He’d never admit that he preferred low-brow comedies to serious literature and plays, but the tragedies didn’t interest him. There was enough suffering in the world without inventing more.