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the marriage mart, and she never deluded herself that she was. She had

no breeding to speak of, and no dowry to dangle as a worm on a hook. In

some ways it was restricting, in others it was a freedom. Men were able

to make careers for themselves, but she never would. So, she took what

life gave her, and made the best she could out of it.

But this afternoon with Caden…no, she wasn't sorry for it at all. She

was thrilled. Ecstatic.

She wanted to do it again. But he never said anything about their

relationship.

She could offer herself as a mistress, but that wasn't what she

wanted. If he ever married she would be right back to where she was

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now, her only gain being the years she aged. And the position of mistress didn't help her family, rather it would shame them. It was all too thick to think about just now.

What she would like was a bath. At least that way her mother and

sister would give her some privacy. Camille teased her about being so

clean, she didn't realize it was the only way Abby could escape them and just ponder things.

She went up the walkway and stepped onto the porch, where the

door opened before she could even put her hand on the glass knob.

"Abigail, I'm so glad you're home. We were worried; you've never

been so late." Her mother pulled her in and kissed her as Abby walked into the vestibule.

Mother took her hat and hung it up. "Hurry and get changed, we

have to leave soon. Camille knows you like to freshen up before these

things so she drew you water and got your bath ready."

Abby hung her coat on the hook, "Where are we going?" She had

wanted a bath, but to take the time to ponder her new skin, not to be

rushed out to mingle with people. Or worse, be stared at and pitied all

evening.

"Judith got us invitations to the Preston's for Genevieve's birthday dinner, and Mrs. Preston would like us to give readings. I'll do

Genevieve's; you and Camille can take anyone else who asks." She

shooed Abby up the stairs, "Hurry, we need to leave in two hours."

Abby slammed her hat onto the bench and stomped up the stairs and

even harder when they creaked under her feet. Her mother sighed at the

base, and Abby didn't even bother to turn around. She pulled her

bedroom door shut with a satisfying thud and started to yank her clothes off.

As her petticoats fell in a circle around her the smell of Caden

floated up to her and her stomach gave a flip. She closed her eyes and

inhaled, savoring the reminder of her afternoon. Images of what they did flashed in her mind and just like that, she wanted him again.

She leaned down and picked up her petticoats, bringing them to her

nose. It was overwhelming, how his scent made her giddy and sad all at

once. She wanted to run her hands over him again, feeling him twitch

and shudder.

What she did not want to do was to get all dressed up and go to a

party where she had to pretend. She knew her talent enough that none of

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her readings were faked, but she just didn't want to make polite chatter.

She wanted to savor her afternoon.

Caden had loosened her corset just enough for her to take a deep

breath and open the busk. Her chemise was all askew and her corset

cover had been torn a bit on the seams. They were all folded, and she

stacked them into the bureau drawer and pulled a robe on. Then she

folded her petticoats and placed them under her pillow.

She padded to the door and peeked out, making sure no one was

there before she went into the bathroom. After she slipped in and

dropped her robe, she went to stand in front of the full length mirror.

Her neck was a little red from his rough chin, and her nipples were

proud and chafed with circles where his mouth had been. She ran her

hands down the soft plane of her stomach and over her mound. It still

burned a bit and her thighs ached but it was a good feeling, making her

happy and content. It reminded her how deeply he'd been inside her and

how wide he spread her.

She turned away and stepped into the bath. She lowered herself an

inch at a time, pausing as her sex met the steaming water, letting the hot licks of water envelop her as his mouth had. She wondered how she

should go on from this. How, once your life had been irrevocably

changed, did you pick up and move forward as if nothing had happened?

Seeing him again would be excruciating. How did women act when

they met their lovers in passing or at events? If she ran into him at an event? He probably would go to any cost to avoid her. At least, if she

kept telling herself that, she wouldn't be disappointed.

She begrudgingly washed him from her body, but she had her

petticoats hidden under her pillow, so she could reminisce when she had

some private time.

When she was done she got up, dried herself as fast as she could

and, pulling her robe back on, she went to her room to dress.

* * * *

Michael Preston ushered him into the oak paneled vestibule. A turned

finial banister accented the spiral stairs, and dark green acanthus leaf wallpaper complimented the dark wood. Caden would have to have a

decorator do something like this to his vacated brownstone. It reeked of old money, which is what the Prestons' were.

Going to their daughter's birthday party wasn't high on his list of

evening entertainments, but gossip told him that Abby would be here.

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He'd received the invitation weeks ago and hadn't planned on coming.

Then again, he hadn't planned on having sex with her in his office, either.

Spontaneity had its rewards.

Michael went off to get them both drinks and came back with two

short ice filled glasses and by the color, a good Scotch. His hair was

heavy with pomade and he still smelled like barbers' talc.

"Glad you came. I was hoping we could talk about a venture I've

been considering." Michael led him into the parlor where, beside a

blazing fire, Abby sat at a table. She looked even more beautiful than

earlier in his office.

Her flushed face was intent on her client's hand as she traced the

lines on the woman's palm. Her hair was up in a chignon with soft loops

falling on her neck, where just hours before he had kissed.

When he looked back, he realized that Michael had been watching

him."You don't want her, Caden." Michael gestured with his drink to Abby. "Her, right? I heard you'd given Beatrice the heave ho and by the look on your face I assumed you were thinking of taking on Abigail

there."

For some reason the thought never occurred to him. He considered

the idea for a moment, but then thought no, she wouldn't like that. For

one, she would never leave her family when they depended on her so

much. Secondly, she was too proud.

But that didn't mean that he couldn't do his best to convince her that

it was the best route. Maybe if he helped with her family's needs she'd be more inclined to agree. He'd have to think up a proposition that was too good for her to pass up.

"Why not Miss Abigail Drummond, Michael?" He spoke low over

the rim of his glass so that their conversation remained private.

"Her family, man. Not only would her mother not tolerate it, but

everyone knows that they're …well…peculiar."

"Well, what about it?" For some reason Michael's statement rankled.

"I guess if you don't mind that kind of thing."

Caden stared at him pointedly. "That kind of thing?"

Michael had the wisdom to become flushed, but clapped Caden on

the back anyway.

"Why don't we go into the library and talk about my new idea?"

Michael nodded in the direction of the hallway.

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"No, I think I'll wait for Miss Drummond to finish with her client, I'd like to get my palm read."

Michael jerked his head back, then gathered himself and raised his

eyebrow. "For spiritual comfort?"

"I'm not after anything, Mr. Preston, I'm here to pay respects to your family for your daughter's birthday and socialize with your guests. If you want to pay a call to Frist at the bank I'll make sure he gives you an

appointment. We can talk about your new venture then." Caden nodded and walked away from his host to go stand behind Abigail's client.

He'd about had enough of Michael's grandstanding because of their

friendship. He never hesitated to pull it out when he came upon the

opportunity, and Caden hated that. Riding another man's shirttails never gained respect the way hard work and due diligence did.

He didn't come here to talk about business, he came to say hello to

friends, mingle a little bit, and start a seduction. Of which object looked to be avoiding him.

Caden gave a slight cough and waited for her to look up. Her brows

knit and she kept speaking with the puffy pink woman at the table.

He coughed again behind his fist and waited for her, as if he could

will her gaze to him. This time she huffed but still kept her full attention on her client.

Fresh chit, not even giving him the time of day after she came in his

mouth just a few hours ago. Then it dawned on him.

He was jealous of a pink, puffy frou-frou woman.

Even though he saw her in her naked splendor, right now, sitting at

the table with her unfashionable dress and upswept hair, she was even

more enthralling. The curve of her face was becoming familiar to him,

and that knowledge was comforting. And equally horrifying.

She glanced up at him, her eyes flashing in genuine surprise and

happiness, but when she looked around and realized her situation she

looked guarded. Whatever those glances meant, he knew they weren't all

good. Guilt or regret hopefully wasn't on the list, because he felt neither.

In the corner by a chinoisere screen was an unoccupied settee and

wingchair, so he made his way past the few occupants of the room to sit

down. He couldn't, and refused to take his eyes off of her. Not that she would disappear, but it was as if they were the only people in the room

and he felt her, in some way, connected to him.

This time when she went back to her clients hands she kept peeking

up at him, which for some reason he found endearing, even though the

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look on her face that followed was frustration and not happiness. If she gave him the chance he'd like to change that back to the happiness he

first saw there.

He pulled out his time piece and flipped open the lid. Dinner would

be announced soon, and he refused to leave without speaking to her.

Maybe a few nips and sucks would be in order, too.

Mrs. Drummond came through the French doors, and he watched as

Abby's back became ramrod straight. Before she looked at him every few

seconds, now she avoided any eye contact.

He waited a few minutes for her mother to leave, but she moved

around to the guests standing nearby, making small talk. She was like a

bad cold, lingering when you wanted it to leave.

And he needed her to leave. He could never get Abby alone with her

mother standing guard. Abby would act all proper with her around, not

like the lush wanton she was in his office earlier. That was the Abby he wanted, all pliant and willing.

Her five minutes were up. Enough was enough. He stood up,

straightened his jacket, and walked over to Mrs. Drummond.

"Mrs. Drummond, have I told you how much I appreciated the

excellent reading your daughter gave me the other evening?" He smiled as her face lit with recognition. "It was very inspiring."

"Thank you for telling me, Mr. Dupree. I've often wondered how

she was received." Mrs. Drummond blushed at Caden's praise. She

placed her gloved hand on his jacket sleeve, "Was she able to help you understand your purpose more clearly?"

"Why yes, I now have a crystal clear understanding."

"How delightful. If you need any other guidance, please stop by."

She handed him her calling card and smiled as she turned to speak with

another woman who had come up to her.

When he looked over at Abby she was staring at him, a look of

abject horror on her face. He winked. Her blush was adorable.

"Miss Drummond, I waited so patiently for a moment with you, but

I find myself almost out of time. Would you care to walk me to the

door?"

"Yes, please Abby. Mr. Dupree expressed some interest in your

insightfulness and to perhaps have his hand read again?" Abby's mother offered from the circle of her other conversation. For some reason Abby's mother using him like an advertisement didn't bother him half as much as Michael.

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Caden offered her his arm. "Well, then I guess I'd better see you to the door," she said, as he led her out of the room.

He led her through the French doors into the empty vestibule,

looked down the hall, and started to go up the spiral staircase.

She pulled her arm back. "We can't go up there!"

He yanked her to him and kissed her with all the frustration that

filled him while he waited for her, sweeping his tongue into her mouth

and pulling her head closer.

Abby melted into him for a moment, then jerked herself away. He

took advantage and yanked her up the stairs, and this time she followed.