Read Cheryl Holt Online

Authors: Too Hot to Handle

Cheryl Holt (10 page)

BOOK: Cheryl Holt
5.49Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

“Well, she’s wrong.”

“She’ll be upset,” Margaret whined.

“So?” Pamela shrugged. “Why would you assume that Miss Barnett’s opinion matters to me in the slightest?”

“And why must you be so awful to her? You go out of your way to be disagreeable.”

“Have we asked for Miss Barnett to be thrust into our lives?”

“I find her to be very pleasant.”

“I find her to be extremely annoying.”

Further comment was cut off as Barnett tromped down the stairs. She was tying her bonnet and straightening her shawl, so she didn’t glance up till the last moment, and when she did, her vexation was obvious.

“My, what a pretty . . . outfit,” she began, “but I’m not certain it’s appropriate for what we have planned.”

“Will we bump into Michael?” Pamela queried. “I selected it for him. I hear tell that he adores red on a beautiful woman.” The remark had a peculiar effect on Miss Barnett. She blushed so hotly that Pamela was surprised she didn’t ignite.

“We’re not out to impress Lord Winchester,” Barnett asserted, “and no, I’m positive we won’t see him.”

“Where do you suppose he goes all day?” Pamela prodded.

“His whereabouts are none of our concern.”

“I bet he’s with Amanda. Have you met her?”

Pamela garnered another strident reaction, and she was tickled. Clearly, Barnett was familiar with the infamous mistress. Wasn’t this interesting?

“I’m not acquainted with any of his lordship’s associates,” Barnett staunchly declared.

A blatant lie, Pamela was sure, so she dug the knife in deeper. “Father used to bring Amanda by the house. He claimed she was the best. The absolute best.”

“The best what?” Margaret innocently inquired.

Pamela chuckled, while Miss Barnett stewed, and it was evident that, for once, Pamela had pushed her too far.

“Change your clothes, Pamela.” Barnett’s eyes were shooting daggers. “Right now.”

Margaret—ever the mediator—discerned that they were fighting, though she couldn’t understand why. “Don’t listen to her, Miss Barnett. Father never had a visitor named Amanda.”

“How would you know?” Pamela chided. “You can’t say who stopped by after you were asleep.”

“Neither can you,” Margaret retorted.

“Go!” Barnett snapped.

Pamela flashed a cunning smile, meant to notify Barnett that Pamela was privy to much secret information, the likes of which would probably send Barnett into a swoon.

“I’ll help her, Miss Barnett,” Margaret said. “I know what’s in her wardrobe.”

“It would be easier to choose something suitable,” Pamela complained, “if we could buy the new gowns I’ve been requesting.”

“I’ve explained about your funds,” Miss Barnett responded. “Your father left many debts. After Lord Winchester and the solicitors have sorted through them, we’ll discuss the items you feel you require.”

Pamela was furious that Barnett would denigrate her father, but she had no reply. Her father had led an extravagant existence, but she had no idea how much he’d spent or from where he’d obtained his cash.

“In the interim,” Pamela jeered, “am I to prance about looking like a pauper?”

Barnett rudely evaluated Pamela’s stylish garment. “You definitely appear as if you’re on your last penny. You poor thing! From where will your next meal come?”

Pamela stomped off, fuming at Barnett having the final word, but Pamela was unable to devise an insulting rejoinder. Well, she’d get even with Barnett. All in good time. The woman would be so bloody sorry.

Like an irritating gnat, Margaret flitted up the stairs ahead of her, while Pamela marched up at a stately, regal pace. As she reached the landing and rounded the corner, the front door was opened, without announcement as to who’d arrived, and Michael entered. Margaret had vanished, leaving Pamela alone, and she hid and spied on him.

“Hello, Miss Barnett,” he grinned and greeted much too gallantly.

“Lord Winchester.” Barnett made no deferential curtsy, which, given her lowly post, was deplorable.

“Fancy meeting you here.”

“I work for you, remember? I’m always here.”

He peeked down the hallways. Not seeing any servants, he stepped closer, approaching until they were toe-to-toe. “What’s wrong?”

He improperly placed his hand on her waist that could only indicate a heightened relationship of which others were ignorant.

“I lost my temper,” she confessed, and he laughed.

“You? The most docile person in the world? I can’t imagine it.”

“It’s true.”

“And who threw you into this frenzy of rage?”

“Miss Pamela.”

“You unfortunate creature,” he crooned sympathetically, and Pamela bristled, realizing that they’d parleyed over her, and that their comments hadn’t been kind.

“She goads me relentlessly, and I broke down and voiced some of my exasperation.” She sighed. “I’m so ill-equipped for dealing with her.”

In a loving gesture, he stroked her nape. “You’re doing fine. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“You haven’t watched us together. She has such an intense dislike for me, but I’m not certain how I incurred her wrath.”

“Would you like me to speak with her?”

“That’s all I need.”

“It’s been said”—he preened arrogantly—“that I have a way with the ladies. I could talk some sense into her.”

“Hah! You unrepentant bounder, you wouldn’t know
sense
if it sneaked up and bit you on the bottom.”

“Miss Barnett, I’m shocked! Totally shocked at such language! What’s happened to you? It must be a result of the company you’ve been keeping.”

He caressed a thumb across her mouth, looking very much as if he might kiss her, and Pamela’s heart skipped a beat as she wondered if he would, but he pulled away and toyed with a ringlet in her hair.

“The quality of my
company
has deteriorated,” she concurred, glaring at him. “Why are you at home? I thought you were busy.”

“I just stopped by for a moment; then I’m off to another conference.”

“About Mr. Martin’s finances?”

“Yes, but I’ll return later, and I’ll expect my nightly briefing.”

“A briefing? Is that what you call it?”

He leaned in and whispered a remark Pamela couldn’t decipher, and Barnett squealed and pretended to be offended.

“Aah! You cad! Get out of here before the girls come down.”

“I’m gone; I’m gone.”

He walked toward his library, but he halted to peer over his shoulder, and he gazed at her with such longing and affection that it hurt to observe him. As smitten as he, Barnett mirrored the gaze, then he disappeared from view, and Barnett went onto the stoop to collect herself in the outside air.

“Isn’t this fascinating?” Pamela mused to herself.

They had to be lovers. There was no other explanation. Pamela had witnessed enough of her father’s shenanigans to have some notion of how adults behaved. Michael and Miss Barnett were exhibiting all the classic signs.

How delicious! How droll! How scandalous! There had to be a mode of utilizing the discovery to maximum advantage, but what would it be?

Obviously, Amanda would have to be enlightened. Despite Margaret’s mewling, Pamela really had met Amanda, and she was in awe of the rich, unconventional older woman. Rumor had it that Amanda and Michael had had another spat, so perhaps Amanda wasn’t aware of how Barnett had usurped her position.

Wouldn’t Amanda die when she learned of how she’d been tossed over?

Her pulse racing with excitement, Pamela rushed for her room, suddenly eager to change as rapidly as she was able. She couldn’t wait to be shut up in the carriage
with Miss Barnett. What an amusing afternoon it was destined to be!

“Are you sure Lord Winchester had no response?”

“Absolutely, ma’am.”

Amanda Lambert sat at the writing desk in her elaborate boudoir, tapping a perfectly manicured nail against the wood. Her footman shifted nervously.

“Were you granted an audience?”

“No,” he replied.

“I explicitly advised you to ask for one.”

“Mr. Fitch had me tarry in the foyer while he spoke with the earl.”

Fitch!
The pompous bastard! Amanda loathed him and, on numerous instances, had pleaded with Michael to fire him, but Michael wouldn’t. While he had many faults, Michael could be extremely loyal. Fitch was so embedded at Michael’s side that a shovel would be required to dig him loose.

“Are you positive you heard Fitch correctly?” she questioned.

“I’m sorry, but there was no mistaking his answer.”

Amanda frowned, her temper spiking. It was simply inconceivable that she could swallow her pride and send a conciliatory note to Michael, but he would refuse to accept it. They were like an old, married couple who had a rhythm to their relationship. They coasted, they fought, they reconciled, then the cycle started over again. They were volatile individuals, with strong personalities and passionate natures, so from the first, they’d carried on outrageously.

She’d been his mistress for nearly a decade, and at this juncture, he couldn’t break the chain of how they interacted. How dare he decline to cooperate with her attempt at a compromise!

“That will be all,” she said, and he bowed but didn’t leave, so she queried, “Was there something else?”

“Yes, Miss Amanda.” He gulped with trepidation. “The staff was curious . . . that is . . . they wanted me to . . . well . . .”

“Spit it out, James.”

He squared his shoulders. “We were wondering if Lord Winchester will be coming back.”

She carefully shielded any reaction. Her employees weren’t stupid. They comprehended that their salaries were dependent on her keeping Michael happy. Previously, their quarrels were resolved within days, yet this rift had continued for weeks. The servants had to be growing concerned, as was she.

“Don’t be silly.” Feigning nonchalance, she chuckled. “Of course he’ll be back. You may notify everyone that the situation will be remedied shortly. Today was just a . . . a misunderstanding. In fact, the earl and I have a rendezvous scheduled for tonight.”

It was a huge but effective lie. He was desperate to be reassured and was visibly relieved by the news. She flashed a confident smile that masked her apprehension, and he turned and departed.

As his boots clicked down the hall, she huffed out a heavy breath. She didn’t know how long she could sustain the ruse that all was fine. With Michael’s rejection of her message, she was terrified that he might sever their association.

If he tossed her over, what would she do?

While she’d saved a few pennies, her tastes were voracious, her style of living expensive, and she didn’t have any cash put away. She’d be forced to find another benefactor, but at thirty-two, she was far beyond the age when another man of means might be interested.

She intended to remain with Michael well into her middle years, after which he’d be so grateful he’d pension her off. She’d been his consort forever, and she knew more about him than anyone. She made his life so easy! She jumped through hoops to please him, to coddle him, to arrange his affairs so that he was content.

How could he contemplate splitting with her? Didn’t he grasp how much he needed her? They were salt and pepper, paint and brush, two peas in a pod. It would be impossible for people in London to imagine one of them without the other. He’d be wretched, lost, without her, but he was too thick to realize it.

An odd event must have transpired to have him behaving so abnormally, and she had to learn what it was. Once she’d uncovered the mystery, she could reverse his path, could coax and cajole him until he forgave her.

She struggled to recollect any alteration to his circumstances, but the sole modification she could conjure was his hiring the governess.

She scoffed. As if that frumpy piece of baggage could have wreaked such a disaster!

Pamela Martin was ensconced in the mansion, too, and Amanda pondered whether Pamela might have enticed him, but ultimately, she discounted the prospect. Michael hated virgins and detested the chatter of young
girls, so he wouldn’t have given her a second look. However, she could be useful.

Amanda had known Pamela’s father intimately, had reveled with him on many debauched occasions. From her innocuous discussions with Pamela, Amanda had been left with the impression that Pamela shared most of her father’s worst traits. Plus, she wasn’t very bright.

“Yes,” Amanda reflected, “Pamela might be the key.”

Pamela was gullible and greedy, fascinated by vice and profligacy, so she could provide tons of information, could be bribed with all manner of depraved boons into spying and eavesdropping. With Pamela having such close access to Michael, who could say what details might be gleaned? There was no telling what she might be prompted to reveal or attempt.

Amanda relaxed, much less distressed than she’d been.

Pamela Martin was about to have a secret friend.

Reginald Barnett dawdled in his parlor. A large stack of unopened bills taunted him, and he shoved them away. As there was no money to disburse, what was to be gained by bothering with them?

From the time he was a lad, he’d been the Barnett heir, had recognized that he would grow up to own the property and marry one of the daughters. Originally, his spouse was to have been Mary, but after she’d been struck blind, his parents had insisted on Emily being the fiancée, so the change had been made. Reginald hadn’t cared which sister was selected. He’d merely wanted to garner his rightful place.

When Emily’s father had passed on, Reginald had been so excited. He’d waited three decades for his future to culminate, so he might have been a tad too enthused over his inheritance. He’d purchased some items on credit, and now, he had to pay the piper, yet due to Emily’s stubbornness, his coffers were bare. His small estate, and the funds necessary to run it, were still held in the trust that had been created at her father’s death, and neither title nor cash would be released until Emily became his bride. The lawyers claimed that if the match was never brought to fruition, the entirety would revert to the Crown. The King would have it to waste!

It had never occurred to Reginald that she would spurn him, that she’d renounce her heritage and decline to do her duty, that she would leave him destitute. At remembering how she’d shamed him, his temper flared.

BOOK: Cheryl Holt
5.49Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Desecration by J.F. Penn
Everyday Paleo by Sarah Fragoso
Moth and Spark by Anne Leonard
The Matchmakers by Jennifer Colgan
A Greyhound of a Girl by Roddy Doyle
The Deian War: Conquest by Trehearn, Tom
Blue Jeans and Coffee Beans by DeMaio, Joanne