Powder of Love (I) (3 page)

Unfortunately Hawes wasn’t much of an actor. Usually he’d say, “Morning, miss,” in a friendly manner, but today he avoided her gaze and mumbled. At least Beels wasn’t a witness to his peculiar morning greeting.

She alighted from the carriage at Mr. Dorsey’s office.

“Good gracious, I should have come to you,” he said, rising. His frown reminded her that a lady shouldn’t enter the territory of men and business.

She smiled, hoping to coax him out of his dismay. “Yes, but my companion is not well, and I didn’t want to ask you to visit a house of contagion.”

“Oh dear, Miss…errm…” He, like most people, had forgotten Miss Renshaw’s name.

“She will be fine.” Rosalie adjusted the embroidered band of her right glove. Later on she’d tell Miss Renshaw her lie about contagion. That ought to improve the lady’s spirits. Miss Renshaw seemed obsessively worried the world would find out about her folly.

Mr. Dorsey nodded vigorously. “Happy to hear it. Good, good. But tell me what I can do for you today.”

“I recall that Mr. Gideon Reed said he was stopping at a hotel, but I can’t remember which one.”

“Fifth Avenue. Mr. Clermont is there also. I did wonder if they were friends.”

She didn’t bother to tell him they didn’t seem to stay apart from one another—not even for a few minutes.

Mr. D.’s wide-eyed alarm made him look even more like a pug dog than usual. “I should have warned you earlier, ma’am. I have heard some rumors about Mr. Clermont that worry me a great deal. I am not at all certain he’s a respectable character.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if that were true of everyone who coveted Cousin Johnny’s objects. Thank you for letting me know.” She rose to her feet. That settled it, then. She had no interest in allowing a couple of scoundrels to take possession of the powder. Still, she had nowhere else to turn for information.

“This is about the vial?” he asked. “You have decided what to do?”

“Not yet.”

“Let me know what you decide. I shan’t rest easy until I know you’ve rid yourself of the substance.”

That makes two of us
, she didn’t say aloud.

* * *

The day was clear and lovely, far too beautiful to spend in the city on business.

Certainly too nice a day to visit a pair of disreputable rakes. Yet she directed Hawes to the Fifth Avenue Hotel.

Outside the 23rd Street entrance, a crowd had gathered.

She squeezed through the milling groups of well-dressed New Yorkers, found a bellboy, and sent a message. Waiting for a reply, she stood in the hotel’s crowded ladies’ parlor, wishing she’d worn some sort of veil. Too many people she knew were here, and the crowds were growing thicker. She fell into conversation with a well-to-do matron and soon learned the reason for the unusual number of visitors.

The Republican candidate for president was visiting the city and staying at this very hotel, Mrs. Wallack informed her. “But I didn’t know you were interested in politics.”

“Naturally. Isn’t everyone?” She caught sight of a tall, dark-haired gentleman in the doorway. Mr. Reed?

She watched him, and her unruly mind wondered if he grasped his partners in sexual congress the way Hawes had Miss Renshaw. Those large, warm hands pulling her against his body. Naked flesh.

The man turned, and she saw it wasn’t Mr. Reed.

That was enough to stop the unwelcome thoughts immediately. She felt her face turn hot.

Fuming at herself for the vulgar turn of her imagination and at the reprobates for making her wait, she smiled at Mrs. Wallack. “Do tell me,” she said. “What will you say when you’re introduced to Mr. Garfield?”

Chapter Three

Clermont was at his second favorite hobby, reading aloud from his diary of his previous day’s “adventures,” when someone knocked at the suite’s door.

Reed jumped to his feet, relieved. Listening to this stuff was one of his least favorite chores, but it helped keep Clermont calm and more malleable.

When the bellboy announced a lady awaited them, Clermont pulled the cigar from his mouth. “Wonderful. I’ll be ready in—”

Reed interrupted the bright-eyed Clermont. “Escort her to the ladies’ parlor, please.” Reed handed the boy a random American coin. “I’ll meet her there in a few minutes.”

He closed the door and glared at Clermont, who lay on the bed, his handwritten pages in one hand, the fat cigar between the fingers of the other.

“We agreed you will not entertain here,” he said.

“I can’t help it if the ladies come after me.” Clermont took a big puff of the cigar, and ash spilled onto his chest. “You’ll just pay the staff a little extra, and I can at last employ
my
staff in more pleasant surroundings.”

“No, Clermont. The rules aren’t going to change just because we’re not in London.” Reed picked up the list of ships heading back to England and waved it in his usual unspoken threat of handing in his notice.

Clermont swung his legs off the bed. “Laddie, I am sad we aren’t getting along lately.”

“You’re sad that the more responsible members of your family will probably send the law after you if I scarper.”

“Not at all, but I know they’ll ship someone even less fit and able than my old friend Reed.”

“God bless the man your family sends. He’ll need God on his side.” Reed pulled out a watch and slumped down into a chair. “Is the female downstairs a professional? Because they warned me again at the front desk—this is a respectable establishment. If any more ladies of the night show up asking for you—”

“I tell you, I hadn’t made any plans. Now I might. I’ll nip down and take a good look at her.” He rubbed his hands together.

“No.
I’ll
nip down and send her on her way. You push the limits of my patience.”

Clermont still wore that vapid smile that meant he wasn’t thinking about anything other than plowing into whichever female waited for him downstairs.

Reed tried again. “You said you wanted to go to the Lotus House tonight. Save your strength for that.”

Clermont flopped back down and stubbed out the cigar on the bedside table. “Very well.”

Reed examined the man lounging on the bed. He’d learned Clermont’s mannerisms well enough to know when the man planned to escape his keeper, and this wasn’t one of those times. Apparently the reminder of the Lotus House had worked.

One of the older siblings in a large family, Reed knew how to manage small children, and Clermont’s personality rather resembled a toddler’s. One could take away his toys far more easily if one dangled the promise of another treat in front of him. Keep him busy, and he’d stay out of trouble. What a pity Clermont wasn’t a small child instead of a strong, reasonably good-looking, too-wealthy, unbridled idiot.

Reed picked up his wallet and hat. If necessary, he’d escort the woman from the premises, perhaps pay her cab fare—or even more. He had grown weary of Clermont and most of his ladies, but occasionally the female who’d hunted down the rich Englishman was desperate and hungry.

God knew he wasn’t a puritanical soul—or hadn’t been until he’d held this job for several weeks—but it gave Reed positive pleasure to give such a woman a hefty sum from Clermont’s purse as he informed her she needn’t use her body to earn her living for at least a few days.

He avoided the creaking elevator and used the stairs all the way to the first floor. The bellboy asked him to wait in a semiprivate lounge while he fetched the lady.

“Who is this lady?”

“Dunno.” The bellboy pushed away the strap to his cap and absently scratched at a red mark on his chin. “Didn’t give a name. I swear it, Cap’n. Said it was personal business.”

Confirmation that she was up to no good.

Reed settled himself in a chair and waited. The last one who’d shown up at the hotel had tried to seduce him, and despite months of celibacy, he’d said no without much regret.

There was only one female who’d appealed to him lately. She’d drawn him with her full, expressive mouth, the delicious curves of her figure, but he’d grown too accustomed to that sort of appeal—Clermont would only visit sexually arousing women. The difference was he’d also decided he liked her. He’d had a chance to watch her rebuff Clermont more than once during their long visit. Miss Ambermere wouldn’t fall into Clermont’s arms, thank goodness.

When they went to call on her, he’d supposed they’d visited her for the usual reasons.

During their calls upon most independent females, Reed’s job was to remain as invisible as possible while making certain the lady truly wanted Clermont. He was to allow Clermont and his choice to conduct their “flirtation” and eventually, discreetly disappear. That was the usual procedure.

By God, this lady had more in her mind than cocks and innuendos.

He’d forgotten how much he enjoyed the company of females. She’d talked of New York and England, and she’d made him want to laugh when she’d tried to drive them out of her parlor.

Clermont’s conversation and diary reduced each woman to a series of curves and hot, wet holes of mouths, vaginas, and arseholes. During their visit with Miss Ambermere, he’d realized how pleasant it was to remember they were humans. Miss Ambermere was a person and, even better, never the sort who’d come calling for Clermont in his hotel, looking for mindless pleasure.

Oh, dear God.

Miss Ambermere stood in the doorway, squeezing her hands together, obviously nervous.

His heart sank even as he rose to his feet, determined to be polite. He’d simply ignore the nearly overwhelming urge to grab her, shake her, and shout in her face.

She smiled at him. He managed to speak. His lips felt stiff. “I am sorry, but I cannot allow you to visit our rooms.”

Her delicate eyebrows rose. She seemed on the verge of an angry retort when he blurted, “Miss Ambermere. You are a—” He stopped himself in time. He was an employee hired to keep Clermont from despoiling innocents and harming women who cared about their good names. But if a rich idiot of a girl wanted to operate in the same hedonistic manner, it was none of his business. Even if the thought of Clermont and this woman together filled him with nausea.

“What is the matter?” she asked as he led her out into the corridor.

“Nothing at all.” He tried not to sneer. “If you are fully cognizant of your…your interest in Mr. Clermont, I will send word to him. I ask that you go to your own house rather than—”

“Mr. Reed. I don’t understand you. And why are you looking at me as if I’ve broken out in some sort of horrible rash? I’m aware you are prone to moodiness, but I don’t think I deserve to be glared at.”

“I beg your pardon.” He bowed, determined to remain as professional as he could. He had nothing else to cling to at the moment. “You’re absolutely correct. Should I have Mr. Clermont paged?”

“No, you’ll do.” She reached up to adjust her hat. The way she lifted her arms—a deliberately seductive motion, so much more effective than the more obvious motions he’d seen other women employ.

“I-I am not available.” He found the words surprisingly difficult to speak. She might be a reckless fool, but she was still amusing, had a mind. And her body—oh Lord. He’d seen so many naked female bodies in the last year, but still longed to see this one unclothed. His cock stirred at the thought. All right, if she had such hungers, why couldn’t he be the one to assuage them?

“You’re not available?” She frowned, disappointed.

He opened his mouth to say he’d changed his mind, that he’d go with her to her house and her bedroom—any place she named—when she continued. “But my lawyer said you had also expressed an interest in the, ah, substance I’ve inherited.”

Lord in heaven.

The
substance
. He’d forgotten she was Lord Williamsford’s heir.

Reed had been dealing with the dithering lawyer, Mr. Dorsey, and had entirely forgotten she owned the object Clermont was after. This was the power of a man’s sexual drive—it destroyed his brain.

He attempted a smile as he gabbled, “Oh. Yes, of course. You’re correct. I can help you.”

He grasped her elbow and moved her aside before two men walking side by side bowled her over.

Fresh air would help him regain his senses, he prayed. “It seems unusually crowded today in the public areas.” He still sounded too tense, so he inhaled deeply, caught a whiff of her already familiar perfume, subtle and clean, with the sharpness of citrus and only a hint of sweetness, rather like her manner. He tried another smile. “Shall we go for a walk?”

“That’s a wonderful idea.”

He glanced around the crowded foyer. “Do you have a maid?”

“I have one, yes, and she waits in the carriage.”

“Why?”

“Despite your peculiar manner, I’m not afraid of an attack.” She let him steer her around a group of ladies gathered near a palm tree. “I didn’t want her to listen to the conversation. And to be frank, we are less fearful for unmarried ladies on this side of the ocean.”

“Which is why you chose to live here?”

“One of the reasons. But I imagine even in England I’d at last be able to walk with a man without worrying about my reputation.”

“What do you mean ‘at last’?”

“I’m closer to thirty than twenty, Mr. Reed. At a certain age, a spinster must be allowed some freedoms a young girl wouldn’t dare. But never mind that. Now your manner has changed again. You are so very changeable, like the wind off the East River. What made you go from starchy to human, I wonder?” They paused to wait for several families to pass.

She looked at him, her brow furrowed. “I can’t imagine why you’d grow upset just because I came to call. Unless you thought I wanted something, but what could…?” She gasped as comprehension filled her eyes and made her turn red. In a choked voice, she said something about yet another Cousin Johnny.

He tried to look innocently confused, but she must have seen the truth.

“Oh. No. Oh indeed.” She covered her mouth. “You thought I wished to see Mr. Clermont…” Her voice stumbled. “And then you thought I would take you for, well, in h-his stead.” She pressed the tips of her gloved fingers to her lips.

“Miss Ambermere. Please. Allow me to apologize for making such a dreadful error. Please excuse me for such—You’re laughing?”

She nodded.

“But I insulted you. I hope you will forgive me for supposing you to be that sort of woman.”

She wiped her eyes carefully. “And
now
your attitude reminds me of my papa.” The way she said it made it clear she didn’t think much of her father. “But if you are going to be all stiff and formal, maybe I should talk with Mr. Clermont. I’d rather take a leering male over one who judges.”

“I swear to do neither.” He pressed his palm over his heart. “Please, let us start again.”

He held out his hand. “How are you today, Miss Ambermere? Well, I hope? Isn’t the weather fine on this lovely spring day?”

She smiled and held out her hand too.

Good, he thought as he shook it. Both of them were wearing gloves. Not like that one time. He’d been taken unawares by her touch. After months of naked limbs and moaning, it was amazing that a small hand taking a firm grasp of his had roused and riled him.

She smoothed her skirts and adjusted the fluffy confection of her hat into place again. “The weather is lovely, and what a good idea to go for a walk. We can stroll down Fifth Avenue and watch the ladies shop. And you can be honest with me, because I am in sore need of advice, sir.”

“The, ah, chemical that Clermont wants,” he guessed.

“Yes. Why are you making an offer to buy it?” Her pretty mouth twisted. “You do know that Mr. Clermont has made a separate bid? Why would you work against him?”

He didn’t usually reveal the truth. Clermont was a bounder, but he’d promised not to spread the word far and wide. “It’s difficult to explain,” he said, and didn’t.

“Do you have private reasons for wanting the powder for yourself? What would you do with it?” She straightened her shoulders. “I do apologize for my impertinence, but it is an important question.”

He liked her straightforward manner, but the question struck him as silly. This was just a box of powder. He laughed. “Absolutely nothing. I think I’m to dispose of the substance. Pour it into the river, I suppose. I am acting as an agent for someone else.” Several someone elses, actually. The solicitor who’d hired him had said that Clermont’s mother, aunt, and uncle would pay his fees. The very wealthy family was willing to pay all sorts of outrageous costs.

“I don’t understand. You don’t believe the vial of powder is real?”

“Oh, I’m sure it would influence a man like Clermont. He’d inhale some or drink it and become as inflamed as a, ah, satyr. But it would be in his mind.”

She suddenly looked weary. “You would be wrong, Mr. Reed. There is real power in the vial. It exercises a strong and terrible influence. I’ve witnessed it.”

He remained silent, hoping she’d tell him what had happened to her. No matter that a lady—and she was most definitely a lady—would never describe such animal appetites. For once he wanted to hear someone describe the effects of lust. Unable to bear the suspense, he asked, “Did something happen to you?”

She shook her head. “Not to me. But you must believe me when I say the chemical in the vial has a real effect. I have no intention of selling it to you or your friend.”

He gave an abridged bow. “As long as I keep it out of the hands of other people, I’ll have done my job.”

“Your job. What a curious thing to say.”

“Yes,” he agreed. He had the strongest urge to tell her the truth, just in case Clermont had managed to arouse any of her interest.
Don’t let him touch you
, he wanted to warn her.
Let me.

She looked anxious. “If you don’t believe in the substance, then you’ll be of no help to me. I need to know how to get rid of it safely.”