Beyond Rubies (Daughters of Sin Book 4) (22 page)

“Oh Nash, I learned something that made me so happy—”

“You can tell me later, my sweet.” He shrugged off his shirt, then set to work on the buttons of his trousers after kicking off his Hessians. Nash was an early adopter of the latest fashions, and for a moment Kitty was reminded of Mr. Lamont. Except that Mr. Lamont was clearly a popinjay who took fashion to extreme, whereas Nash had consummate style and finesse, which he immediately displayed as, naked, he slid into the bed beside her and began to stroke her flanks, his hand stealing up beneath her skirts while his other worked at the buttons at the back of her gown so he could remove her gown and then her petticoat and stays.

Kitty wriggled happily into his embrace and kissed him on the mouth, sighing as he cupped her mound and gently traced circles around her nipples. “Ah, but you make me so happy.”

And it was true. While she felt he loved her, going to such constant lengths over the past weeks to prove it, she felt secure and safe. And very much loved. She’d never felt any of these things at home. Now she was mistress of her destiny and right now, wrapped in the arms of the most handsome and adoring gentleman any girl could wish to have for her lover.

“And you satisfy me on every level,
ma petite choux
.”

Kitty knew the reason he sounded so strangled was because his erection was hard and pressing into her thigh, and he couldn’t wait to enter her. Yet he was always assiduous in pleasuring her first. She had no other experience of men, but she’d heard whispers in the theater and knew that lovers who thought only of their own gratification, abounded. It was further proof of the fact Nash was the ideal mate. A man who was thoughtful and who respected her and her right to a happiness equal to his own.

“I hope I always will,” she whispered, as he slid a finger inside her wetness then began to stroke the slick nub at her core. Her excitement notched up a level and she closed her eyes, reveling in the attention.

“Just stay as beautiful and willing as you are now, and you’ll not have to worry about anything, my sweet.”

Kitty’s eyes fluttered open, for she wasn’t sure if he’d said the words in jest. But his eyes were closed, and now he was rolling on top of her, positioning himself at her entrance before plunging in with a groan of satisfaction.

And Kitty, who hadn’t quite reached the zenith of her own of excitement, felt it incumbent to gasp and enter into the act with equal enthusiasm, wishing he’d spent just a little longer pleasuring her. But she was not dissatisfied when it was all over, for Nash was gazing down at her with pure rapture in his face, and she surely must have misunderstood his meaning when he’d insinuated her security lay in retaining her looks.

When it appeared he would go straight to sleep, Kitty gave him a little nudge.

“Don’t you want to hear how my sitting went? How I found Mr. Lamont?”

“Surely I’d be more interested in how he found
you
, my darling.” Nash gave a little laugh at his own joke, reaching up one arm to lazily brush aside a tendril of her hair. “Delightfully en dishabille, no doubt, but respectable enough. I hope he will convey you as I see you...three-quarters the innocent virgin and one-quarter femme fatale.” He curled his arm about her neck and brought her face down to his to murmur against her lips before he kissed her, “All in all, a delightful little enigma.”

Kitty sighed with pleasure. “I learned something that pleased me very much.” When he didn’t ask her to elaborate, she went on anyway. “He told me he’d seen my sister.”

“I didn’t know you had a sister. Is she as beautiful as you?”

“She’s considered beautiful, though she hides it. She’s a governess. I’m trying to find her as we’ve lost touch.”

“I’d have thought she’d have already found you if she wanted to. Your name is in all the gossip columns; your description bandied about.”

He obviously didn’t realize what a dismal reflection this was for Kitty to look at it in these terms, for while Nash drifted off into almost immediate slumber, Kitty found herself staring at the ceiling with the chill fear that Lissa was so shocked and ashamed of Kitty, she wanted nothing more to do with her.

In fact, it was in a similar mood of reflection, that she was nudged while gazing at the wares of her favorite jewelers in Bond Street.

“What a look of woe. That’s not the carefree Miss La Bijou I know. You’re not looking at betrothal rings, I trust?”

The goldsmith had just pulled out a tray of ruby and sapphire rings for Kitty’s perusal, and Kitty had been studying a diamond and ruby studded affair with great interest.

“Oh, Lord Silverton, I do feel full of woe,” said Kitty, glancing up and adding quickly at his quirked eyebrow, “and it has nothing to do with Lord Nash. He’s been charming and attentive—”

“So you
are
looking at betrothal rings.”

“Not yet,” she dropped her voice, “though it is my sincerest wish to be respectably placed in life, as you know. Lord Nash has showered me with gifts. His generosity is extraordinary—”

“Meaning you can set yourself up for life if you are wise with your investments and do not squander what you are given.”

Kitty waved a finger at him. “A salutary warning, Lord Silverton. I might have high hopes you think cannot be fulfilled, but I am not stupid. My brother is apprenticed to a goldsmith for a career in finance, and he will advise me.”

“You are indeed a woman of mystery. A brother who inhabits the world of investment. A father who is a nobleman. What do they think of you, Miss La Bijou?”

Kitty nodded to the goldsmith to put away his wares. “What do they think of me?” She repeated his question, sadly. “My sister, a governess, is ashamed. She has not contacted me, though she must know where to find me.”

“And that is why you’re sad?”

“And, as you know, my friend, Dorcas, is trapped in a horrible situation and won’t allow herself to be saved.”

“So that compounds your dismal mood, of course.”

“And Nash is going away for a few days, and I shall miss him.” She sighed and glanced up at the sun which was getting low. Soon she would have to make her way to the theater.

“You’re welcome to visit me anytime you are feeling in need of company, Miss La Bijou.”

Kitty gave him an ironic smile. “Nash didn’t like it one little bit when he learned I’d been staying with you. I had a difficult time persuading him that he had nothing to be jealous about.”

Silverton pretended he’d just received a blow to the solar plexus. “That is not something I like to hear.”

Kitty giggled. “You’re vastly entertaining, my Lord, and I enjoyed our cribbage evenings enormously, but I’m not going to allow myself to fall in love with you.”

“So you think that could be possible?” He tilted his head and looked interested.

Kitty shrugged then relaxed with a smile. “Not when I know Lord Nash is going to realize he needs a viscountess with all the attributes I possess.
That
—you say—is not possible, Lord Silverton, but I shall prove you wrong. And now I really must go.”

“Well, Miss La Bijou, just remember my door is always open to you, and should you find the ennui overwhelming while Nash is gone, I’ll ensure the cribbage table is ready in front of the fire so we can take up where we left off. How’s that for a hospitable offer?”

“Thank you, Lord Silverton. It is indeed.”

Kitty gave him a little wave as she said farewell, her mood well and truly brighter since their encounter. If there was one thing for which Lord Silverton could be relied upon, it was to make feel her happier.

***

S
ilverton’s mood, too, was vastly brighter for the encounter when he left the jewelers and returned home to change.

Kitty did strange things to him. She filled him with frustration for her stubborn insistence that she knew how to get what she wanted out of life, but with enormous admiration for the fact she refused to allow herself to be downcast for long after any setback.

Most of all, she unleashed a tremendous feeling of protectiveness, which left him being the one frustrated for, as her friend only—and one whose advice she, more often than not, chose to ignore—he was no position to keep watch over her and safeguard her concerns as he would like.

He was certain he could offer her everything, and more, that Lord Nash purported to offer her. If she became his mistress, Silverton would not put her out to pasture when her youth and beauty faded, as he was sure Nash would. No, Silverton could see himself enjoying her company through all the trials and tribulations of life. He would be as loyal and attentive as any husband. He just couldn’t marry her.

After dinner with some friends at a chop house in Soho, he carried on alone to No. 10 St James Square, a snug gaming hall humorously known as the Pigeon Hole where he was to meet Debenham and Smythe.

Debenham, who was in the midst of casting the dice in a game of Hazard, hailed Silverton when he happened to glance up and see his colleague framed in the doorway.

Initially, Silverton had cultivated Debenham’s acquaintance at the request of his old university friend Sir William Keane, though Silverton and Debenham had known one another for many years.

When Sir William, who was then working for the Foreign Office, had outlined to Silverton the suspicion that Debenham had been involved in a plot to assassinate a member of Cabinet, Silverton had agreed to reporting on Debenham’s activities.

He was well aware of the unsavory proclivities of the man sometimes referred to as the ‘villainous viscount’. Women, cockfighting, and other forms of gaming were his popular pastimes and one evening, after Debenham had suffered more than unusually severe gaming losses, Silverton had taken advantage of an opportunity to save him from pecuniary embarrassment. Debenham had eventually settled, but Silverton gained the impression that contrary to appearances, Debenham was in more dire financial difficulties than was suspected.

All the more reason to watch him, Sir William had said, on the eve of his departure to Constantinople with his mistress, the delectable Mrs. Crossing whose defection from her husband had sent shockwaves through the ton. Silverton didn’t wonder she’d made good her escape while she could. Crossing was a renowned thug.

As was Debenham, but Debenham managed matters with more aplomb and, with a title and connections, he’d so far slid out of every difficulty with insufficient evidence to convict him of anything. A letter, purportedly written by his cousin—Sir Aubrey’s late wife—accusing Debenham of being the ringleader of a plot to assassinate Castlereagh, was not enough, on its own, to see Debenham arraigned. As the writer had taken her own life within minutes of penning the damning charge, she was considered clearly not of sound mind.

But Sir William had heard whispers of a multitude of associations with men suspected of radical leanings—Lord Smythe and the shoemaker, Buzby who was suspected of racketeering and counterfeiting.

Now, as Silverton advanced toward Debenham, who was clad entirely in black relieved only by his snowy white cravat, he thought wistfully of a comfortable feather bed with crisp white linen, occupied by Miss Kitty La Bijou. Perhaps if he’d pressed his advantage when she was more vulnerable and thus susceptible to his overtures, that’s what he could look forward to tonight. But then he berated himself with the knowledge that this was the way Debenham worked. Rumors abounded that Debenham had seduced and tricked his viscountess, the lovely and lively Miss Partington that was—into marriage. Clearly, she’d succumbed to his overtures when she was particularly vulnerable.

That wasn’t to say Miss Partington had an unblemished reputation. Maybe Debenham had been her only option. Still, Debenham’s method of pressing her to the altar had disgusted Silverton. Blackmail was what he’d used to seduce her and give her no option but to say what he needed her say after a sketch had been drawn showing Debenham in company with Lord Smythe and Buzby; damning evidence of collusion between three suspected radicals who claimed they did not know one another. Then the indicting sketch had mysteriously been replaced with a sketch in which Debenham had been substituted for Sir Aubrey, as if painting him as a co-conspirator, while Debenham had then produced Miss Partington, who’d sworn under oath she’d been with Debenham all night. As Miss Partington had already been caught en flagrante with Lord Debenham at Miss Hosking’s betrothal ball, it was not surprising their wedding had followed shortly afterward.

Silverton did not know the identity of the artist, but had heard it was a woman who was assisting them with their investigation into whether Debenham had been involved in the Castlereagh Affair, and, more lately, was involved in some secret matter involving a member of the royal family. Though referred to as Lady C, Silverton believed Debenham was engaged in a plot involving Princess Caroline, the Prince Regency’s estranged wife. Beyond that, Silverton knew little, but he’d pledged to supply an inventory on the company Debenham kept, and the haunts to which he gravitated.

“Feeling lucky?” Debenham stepped aside to let Silverton play, and Silverton sensed the tension in the man. He could smell the brandy on his breath, and suspected Debenham had already lost a great deal tonight. Clearly, he was in his cups, which might make him less cautious than he usually was.

“After you. One more throw. A lucky one.”

Obediently, Debenham rolled the dice, and his fortune turned.

Silverton knew there were advantages to seeing Debenham get in deeper, bailing him out, and thus perhaps being in a position to see the man compromised, or, in fact, being the recipient of Debenham’s drunken confidences, but he felt sorry for his wife.

As he watched Debenham rake in his winnings, he said to him over his shoulder, “Why not go home while you’re ahead? Lady Debenham will be pleased to see your pockets lined with gold tonight.”

Debenham waved him away. “Lady Debenham is in the country dutifully delivering my heir. There’s no one to rein in my good fortune. Methinks I’ll throw again.”

So the tone was set, and another two hours at the Pigeon Hole saw Debenham win a small fortune only to lose it again before a bottle of Madeira had him suggesting Silverton accompany him to Maggie Montgomery’s.