Brazen Temptress (12 page)

"Well, what will it be?" he asked again.

Her mouth set in a stubborn line. It was obvious she'd made her choice.

Damn her hide. He still had at least a week's worth of business in London, and now he'd be lucky to make the coast with his life.

Even as he went to make his flight, a soft feminine voice purred through the stacks. "Mr. D'Artiers, is that you?"

He recognized it immediately and realized he may have just found a miracle, a better escape route than the one he'd planned.

Miss Eustacia Cottwell.

Well, it seemed the fates were still on his side. Could the Lord Admiral have known his daughter was going to be here as well? More than likely not.

This could work out better than he'd ever hoped.

He plucked the broadsheet out of Maureen's hand and hastily stuffed it in his jacket. Against his better judgment, he turned his back to his defiant wife and turned on the charm for which he had become famous in London's elegant circles.

"Miss Cottwell! I have to say your arrival here is the most delightful surprise of my day."

The arrogant chit didn't giggle or feign a blush at his praise, only raised her chin a little higher as if his tribute was her due. She was her father's daughter, every arrogant inch of her. She held out her hand, and he took it, drawing it slowly to his lips.

"Whatever are you doing here?" he asked. "And looking as if you should be strolling the paths in the park catching the envious eye of everyone there."

Eustacia ran a hand over her stylish skirt before raising it to pat her pert and perfectly matched bonnet, drawing more attention to her best asset, her shimmering blond hair. "My cousin has an affection for novels. I find them most dull, but she must be indulged every fortnight or so, or else she becomes insufferable."

He smiled fondly at her. "And how kind you are to allow her such pleasures, when it is obviously not to your taste. Why, you should be out where people can enjoy the sight of you, where you can be adored as you should be."

Eustacia sighed. "That is exactly what I told her, but the silly woman just isn't appreciative of the sacrifices I make for her comforts. Still, Papa says one must make allowances for our lesser relations."

Behind him, the nudge of an elbow in his ribs sent him faltering forward. Better her elbow than her ever-present knife, he thought, smiling gamely at a curious Eustacia.

"Is there someone behind you?" she asked.

He leaned over and said loud enough for Maureen to hear, "Some unfortunate bluestocking."

Eustacia nodded in understanding. "I believe she wants out."

"Just clumsy. I've heard tell that type never leaves Hatchards." He shook his head at such a sorry state. "Poor dears. Their own version of Almack's."

At this, the woman behind him held no further interest for the very high-brow and socially minded Miss Cottwell.

The narrow stacks had the advantage of allowing his body to block Maureen from Eustacia's view while also trapping her behind him.

He hoped she heard every word and was seething with outrage.

And maybe even a little jealousy.

"Now, we were discussing your sacrifices, were we not?" Julien crossed his arms over his chest. "I should think such kindness and unselfish regard for others should not go unrewarded," he told the girl before him. "Perhaps a trip for ices, if I may be so bold to presume that you would be interested in such an outing."

The sly smile curved slowly along Eustacia's rosebud lips. It wasn't that the girl wasn't pretty. She was in her own way outright stunning, but her cunning nature and predatory ways took away from what would have allowed another woman to shine like an angel.

Loud enough for Maureen to hear, he added, "It isn't often one finds a lady with such refined manners in one so divinely
young."

The comparison about refined manners and age gained him a fist hammered into his back, this time below the rib cage, sending a shock wave of pain into his abdomen.

That was his Maureen. She knew where to hit and how to make it hurt.

He gasped for air before an open-mouthed Miss Cottwell, who was now regarding the bluestocking behind him with something akin to horror. Before his wife could take her next damaging blow, one that would leave Gentleman Jim reeling in his boxing ring, his second rescue of the day arrived.

"Maureen, Maureen, where are you?" came Lady Mary's call.

"Right here, my lady," she called out from behind him in a voice flowing like warm honey.

Eustacia's eyes widened, and she tipped her head to gain a peek around his shoulder.
"Who
is that horrible creature?"

"I haven't the faintest idea," he said. He turned and allowed Maureen right of way out of the stacks. She pushed past him and Eustacia, her bonnet askew and her face glowering like a Nor'easter. Julien thought the Lord Admiral's daughter was going to swoon to be found in such unkempt company.

He, too, felt the sting of Maureen's antics. Her first step trod directly on his foot.

Julien grinned, aching toes aside. Maureen had the face of an outraged spouse.

Good, he thought, jealousy may work to my advantage.

"Oh, my mistake," he said, winking at the Lord Admiral's daughter. "I do know this young lady. Miss Cottwell, may I present Miss ... Miss ..." He paused as if her name had escaped him, letting it appear that Maureen wasn't as important as the illustrious Miss Cottwell.

"Miss Fenwick," Maureen filled in for him.

"Fenwick?"

"Yes, Miss Fenwick," she repeated firmly.

"Well, Miss Cottwell, may I present our bluestocking, Miss Fenwick."

The two women eyed each other like warring cats, each sizing the other up. He could tell from the pinched look on Maureen's face, she didn't like what she saw.

Good, this was working out better than he hoped.

"Oh, there you are, Maureen," Lady Mary said, as she arrived from the front of the shop. "Whatever are you doing back here?" Then the lady's gaze rose to Julien and he saw the light of recognition in her eyes, as well as something else — maternal pride. "Oh, I see the attraction. And it isn't these dull books." The lady smiled slyly at Julien.

"Lady Mary, I presume," he said, bowing low over her hand.

"Oh, yes," the lady tittered as if she were once again a fresh-faced schoolgirl. The lady glanced over at Eustacia. "Oh, Miss Cottwell! I didn't see you there at all. Have you met my goddaughter, Miss Fenwick?"

"Yes," Eustacia said with a little sniff. "Mr. D'Artiers was just affording me the pleasure," she continued in a sugary tone that didn't fool anyone into thinking the experience had been in any way enjoyable.

Maureen made a rather rude noise in the back of her throat, which led all eyes to turn on her.

"The dust," she said sweetly. "It seems to have caught in my throat."

Julien wondered if that was all that was stuck there. "Then you and Lady Mary should join Miss Cottwell and me for ices. They have a rather soothing effect on one's
throat."

Better an ice than a rope stretching it, he thought.

Maureen glowered at him. Clearly there was nothing that was going to soothe her temper — except maybe a hanging.

Just then the Lord Admiral stepped forward. His gaze passed over Lady Mary and Maureen and fell directly on his daughter. "Eustacia, what the devil are you doing here?"

"Oh, Papa, it is dreadful." Eustacia sighed, sidling up to her parent and wrapping her hand around his elbow. "Cousin Priscilla insisted she must have a new novel. And she demanded I come along, when I really should be shopping for ribbons for my gown for Lady Trahern's masquerade." The girl sighed, the effect of which was to tell all that the day had been a trying ordeal for her. "But as fortune would have it, I discovered Mr. D'Artiers here and he's invited us out for ices. Do say you'll join us."

"D'Artiers," the Lord Admiral acknowledged with a smile and a regal bow. "Always good to see you. Especially in the company of my daughter."

"My lord," Julien offered in return, matching the man's movements. He knew the wily old man considered him a fine catch for his daughter. Though it was well known the Lord Admiral wanted a title for her, Julien's family connections and rumored wealth more than made up for his lack of an earldom or other lofty background. Besides, it was common knowledge that the Lord Admiral's own barony would pass to his only child, Eustacia. "It is my greatest pleasure to spend time with your delightful daughter."

Maureen made that noise again. And Julien swore this time she was really choking.

"I assume, my lord," Julien said, "you know Lady Mary and her goddaughter, Miss Fenwick?"

"Yes, I've had the pleasure." Like his daughter, his tone belied his words.

The Lord Admiral turned his attention to Lady Mary. "And you, my lady. How is it you are out on this fine day? I thought you were staying closer to home these days."

"My dear goddaughter, my lord," the lady said. "She suggested we come. She thought it may be advantageous for her improvement."

The man's eyebrows rose slightly, as if he considered the notion impossible.

"My lord," Julien said, drawing the man's attention away from Maureen. "I had just invited Lady Mary and her goddaughter to join your daughter and me for ices. Will you be joining us as well?"

The man looked caught, for surely he didn't want his darling daughter associating with the likes of Maureen Hawthorne, but at the same time a match-minded father could hardly disparage Julien's offer.

So, just as Julien guessed, the man came up with a compromise.

"Allow me to escort Lady Mary and Miss Fenwick to your carriage, while you help Eustacia find her cousin. As for the rest of the outing, I fear Admiralty business will keep me detained for the remainder of the afternoon." With that said, he cast a significant glance over at Maureen.

Julien nodded and held his arm out to Eustacia. The girl made quite a show of taking it and, with her nose high in the air, paraded past Maureen.

Glancing back, Julien raised his hand to his jacket and patted his coat pocket.

Maureen acknowledged the gesture by turning a radiant smile on the Lord Admiral.

Now all Julian could do was wait and see. In the next few moments he would discover just how much his wife wanted to see him hang.

Or if she would trust him one more time.

Whether he liked it or not, he felt his throat constrict, as if she were already tightening the noose. He coughed slightly, and Eustacia glanced up at him.

"The dust," he told her. "Really quite annoying."

Lucky for Julien, he'd found safety behind Miss Cottwell's skirt. For if they'd been alone, Maureen would have knocked the smug look on his face right into the gutter.

It was all she could do not to call out his true identity as they'd assembled for their outing to Gunther's. Right up to the last moment, when the Lord Admiral drove off in the opposite direction, she battled with her convictions to see Julien receive the justice he so rightly deserved.

But, the contents of the broadsheet Julien had shown her rocked her beliefs about the Lord Admiral's veracity.

A clear and clever forgery, she tried to tell herself. Julien's way of tricking her into trusting him.

Why, it couldn't be true. The
Retribution
being sold right out from under her?

The Lord Admiral had given her his word that the return of her ship was part of their deal.

His word.

In the end it had been the Lord Admiral's words that convinced her to hold her tongue.

Once they'd gone outside Hatchards, he'd sent Lady Mary ahead to Julien's carriage, where everyone else stood patiently waiting.

He drew her aside and out of sight of the other party. His hand caught her by the elbow and twisted it painfully. "What are you doing anywhere near my daughter?" His face turned an ugly shade of purple.

The vehemence and anger behind his question took her aback. What should he care if she was anywhere near his daughter? "I didn't know she would be here," she said, breaking his grip and rubbing at the aching joint. "Even if I did, what does it matter? I came here for another purpose. Remember?"

He glared down the long beak of his nose at her. "How dare you take that tone with me. You would do well to remember your place. I hold your life in my hands, and I will not tolerate such base-born insolence. You would do well,
Miss Fenwick,
to remember your place and just how temporary it is."

His odd, seething rage did more than alarm her, it frightened her, because it was obvious that he hated her.

And not because she was a smuggler or an impostor.

There was more to it.

But what? She'd offered him the means to save his career, and yet his every word, his every look and nuance since he'd entered Hatchards and found her in the company of his daughter screamed that he detested her with a vehemence born of years of malice.

Not that she cared what the Lord Admiral thought of her. But this type of irrational hatred could lead a man to do anything, even break his word, of that she was sure.

Suddenly, trusting him didn't seem such a good idea.

And she'd learned to listen when that little voice — the one like a soft banshee wail — called to her. She hadn't survived all these years dealing with smugglers and thieves by ignoring these whispers of caution.

So when the Lord Admiral demanded to know where de Ryes was, she did the only thing she could.

She lied.

Again.

And it galled her more than she cared to admit.

"So if you were here to capture de Ryes, where is he?" the Lord Admiral demanded for a second time.

"He didn't show," she told him. "His note said he would be here, and he hasn't arrived." Then, as luck would have it, she spied the Lord Admiral's hired help. "And who would blame the man, with half of Bow Street lounging about, just waiting to nab him? You've scared him off with that obvious lot of yours."

"I'll have you know they are the finest men for such a job," he blustered.

"If they are, then why are they out in the open like that? Why, I can see nearly ten of them from here! Ten men to capture de Ryes?" She shook her head. "Loan me a pistol and a good dirk, pay me what you just wasted on this bunch, and I'll bring him in on my own."