Sari Robins (15 page)

“W
hat the devil’s the matter with you?” Bills exclaimed the next day as the two men walked to the society for the Enrichment and Learning of Females. “You’ve got your head so high in the clouds I couldn’t even reach you with a kite! What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing,” Heath lied, his thoughts filled with the memories of Tess’s head thrown back, her cries of passion, and the feel of her body wrapped around his. Though he’d bathed, her scent still lingered in his nostrils like a heady perfume, and her sweet taste made his lips feel branded by her kiss. His body thrummed with the need to have her again, to mark her as she’d marked him.

He’d never experienced anything like this, where the coupling haunted him like a dream from which he couldn’t wake. And Lord, how he didn’t want to wake from this luscious fantasy! This morning life had kept encroaching on Heath in the form of his manservant, his messages, his breakfast, when all he’d wanted to
do was lie in his bed reliving the fantasy of Tess. But to the rest of world, this morning was the same as every other morning when Heath had risen at dawn ready to attack the day.

What was happening to him?

And was she similarly affected?

“I beg to differ.” Bills intruded on his thoughts once more. “You’re acting like a lovesick pup.”

Glaring at a reckless hackney driver, Heath scowled. “I am not! I haven’t mentioned Tess the entire afternoon!”

Satisfaction flashed in Bills’s perceptive gaze. “So you admit it. Lady Golding has caught your eye.”

“She hasn’t caught anything of mine.” Heath kicked at a stone in the walkway. Had she caught him? Ensnared him like a fly in a web?

“I’ve been known as a bit of an observant fellow a time or two, and what I’m seeing is quite fascinating.”

Heath licked his lips, trying not to be distracted by the memories. “What are you observing?”

“You’re preoccupied, short-tempered. The only time you perked up was when I suggested we go to the society for females. And I wonder who it is you wish to see?”

Heath’s cheeks warmed as he veered his eyes from Bills’s shrewd gaze. “It’s very simple, I didn’t sleep well last night.” Oh, the dreams he’d had…

“But yesterday were closing arguments in the Blumenthal trial and not only did you not attend, but you didn’t even ask about it!”

Heath blinked, shocked that he’d missed it. He
wasn’t required to be at the trial, but he’d made a point of being present at every notable case. To see what was happening and to be seen. It was politically prudent and kept him in the forefront of any news. How had he missed that?

“I think Lady Golding has gotten under your skin,” Bills surmised.

Evading a mangy dog, Heath increased his pace. “Bollocks.”

“You’ve no better answer than that?” Bills inquired, stepping up quickly alongside him. “The great orator finding no words?”

“Shut your trap, Bills.”

Waving his cane, Bill flashed a gratified smile. “I’m just glad you’re finally realizing that Miss Whilom isn’t the lady for you.”

Heath barely slowed his pace as he crossed the street, dodging carriages and horses. “I never said that.”

“But you’ve slept with Lady Golding.”

Heath’s boot toe jammed the curb and he almost fell but righted himself. Making a business of adjusting his coat, he muttered, “I never said that, either.”

“You didn’t have to.”

Heath looked up.

Bills pulled Heath out of the way of a passing horse and rider. “Look, I’m the last man to berate you about it. I’m simply trying to point out that you’re better off with Tess.”

“With a woman who wears scandal like a second skin?” Heath quoted Dagwood, but the words felt
ugly on his tongue and he regretted them immediately. “I don’t mean that. She’s just…”

Infuriating? Breathtaking? A seductress?

His hand traced his cheek where she’d struck him. Had it all been a ruse? Nay, she’d been livid. But about what? About Dagwood finding them, probably. She hadn’t overheard anything, had she? He’d checked the door she’d gone through right after Dagwood had left. The room had been blessedly empty. Still, what had set her off like that? And could he do it to her again…?

“What is she?” Bills asked, pulling Heath’s thoughts back to the present. Bills was right; he was astoundingly distracted today.

Meeting his friend’s gaze, Heath shook his head. “I hardly know.”

“Do you think she wishes to marry you?”

Heath snorted. “She’s sworn off it.”

“Ladies are wont to change their minds. More importantly, do you wish to marry her?”

“Tess is not the kind of lady one marries.”

“Then she’s the perfect kind of lady to bed.”

Scratching his chin, Heath tried to unscramble his thoughts. “She’s not for me. I want to settle down. Have a family.”

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

Gritting his teeth, Heath growled, “I know what I want. I want a family. A secure future. A good life.”

“No scandal to sully your name…”

“Definitely no scandal. My father tainted our family enough with his exploits.”

“Exploits? You usually call them misjudgments.”

Anger filled him. “Whatever you call them, he did us a disservice, one I will not visit upon my own children.”

“So his affairs reflected poorly on you.”

“At least my mother wasn’t alive to see it. But I was always the lad whose father had taken liberties with his betters.” Heath snorted. “His betters. As if they weren’t jumping into the bed with him.”

“Speaking of beds, I’m curious, was Lady Golding as good as she looks?”

Glaring, Heath didn’t bother to answer.

Bills didn’t even look chagrined. “Very well, then, don’t tell me. But do you still think she stole Belington’s blunt?”

Scratching his ear, Heath brought his mind back to the investigation. “I don’t know. I know she’s up to something. Her husband squandered her dowry and her entire inheritance, the bugger. He left her barely outpacing the constable. Then her father cut her off when she refused to marry his nephew.”

“So she’s without resources.”

“She’s got her book business. But it’s hard to imagine it supporting her in the life she lives.”

“Perhaps it’s all a sham? I mean, it’s been know to happen where the upper classes serve champagne in the front room while the back rooms go without two sticks to make a fire.”

“I need to get inside her house to know for sure.”

“Oh, so now you need an excuse?”

Heath grimaced. “It would probably be better if
she wasn’t there so I could get a good look around.”

“I disagree. Exhaust her. Make love to her until her knees are too weak to stand. Then go about your duties. It’s the way to do it.”

Heath smiled, imagining the pleasure of executing such a plan. Seducing her was a delightful idea, but for ulterior motives? He wasn’t so sure he could do it. Still, he could go with the first half of the plan and figure out the rest later. His body hardened at the thought.

“But she may not be very cooperative. She wasn’t exactly happy about the whole thing.”

Bills frowned. “I’m disappointed in you, man. You should be more disciplined; please her, then yourself.”

Disciplined
was not exactly how he would describe himself when he was with Tess. Still, recalling her passionate cries and the feel of her wrapped around him, Heath rubbed his chin. “She was well satisfied. No doubt about it.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

Heath shook his head. “She didn’t seem to want it…I mean me, any more than I’d thought I’d wanted her.”

“That makes no sense. Either you want her or you don’t.”

“I don’t want to want her. I want to want Penelope.”

“Really?” Bills’s gaze was disbelieving. “Who wants cod when you can have
filet de bœuf
?”

“Please don’t compare Penelope to a fish.”

“A bland, white fish, no less.”

“And I can’t marry a steak, no matter how tender.”

“As you said yourself, she’s not interested, so wedding bells don’t enter into the matter.”

“How many times do I have to tell you? I want to settle down. That means marriage.”

“Then I posit to you that you
need
this little affair to be able to sustain yourself for the long famine to come.” Raising a hand, Bills asserted, “I know you, once you give your word, you won’t stray, heaven help you. So you need this, my friend. Badly. Then off you go to marry your Miss Whilom. You have your cake or cod or whatever, and eat it, too.”

Heath liked Bills’s logic. Thanks to Lady Bright’s machinations, Heath hadn’t given Penelope his word yet. So technically he was free to do as he wished. But for all his justifications, Heath somehow doubted he’d be able to stay away from Tess, regardless. It would be like swimming against a powerful tide when all he wanted to do was float along with it.

“A last fling, huh?”

“Exactly. But I’m not clear on why you think she won’t be interested in another swing.”

“There’s more to her than meets the eye. She’s hiding something. There’s no doubt about that.”

“So what better way to loosen her tongue than to butter her up with a little pleasure?”

Patting his friend on the back, Heath nodded. “There’s a reason I seek your advice, my friend.”

“Seek?” Bills snorted.

“Well, there’s a reason I take it.”

“Because I tell you what you wish to hear?”

Heath smiled. “That, too.”

“S
o how do I ascertain Heath’s true purpose?” Tess asked Janelle over tea as they sat in the society’s front drawing room. Tess knew she was really at her wits’ end if she was asking Janelle for advice. But to give the matron credit, she had a mind almost as Machiavellian as Wheaton’s. She wasn’t mean or wicked, just wily. And Tess desperately needed help right now, and wily would do.

The incident at the orphanage had proved that Tess couldn’t use passion against Heath any more than she could jump the English Channel. Desire was a double-edged sword that cut her deeply. When he touched her she couldn’t think, couldn’t scheme. Heavens! She could hardly remember to breathe.

“I’d use Lucy to soften him up and then drink to loosen his tongue,” Janelle advised with a sniff, pouring herself another cup of tea.

Tess blinked, bringing her mind back to the point. “Mr. Bartlett?”

“No, his friend Bills. He’s the loose boulder.”

“Loose boulder?”

Janelle rolled her eyes. “Easily toppled. The other one, Bartlett, is too quick and too guarded.”

Tess leaned forward, excited about an option she hadn’t considered. “You think he’ll talk?”

“Bills likes to please. And he’s got a
tendre
for Lucy.”

From across the room, Lucy looked up from her writing table and made a quizzical face.

“You can stop pretending that you’re not listening and join us.” Janelle sniffed.

Shrugging, Lucy stood, strolled over to the table, and selected a fruit tart from the platter. As she nibbled on it, a bit of crumb stuck to the corner of her lip.

“You have…” Tess motioned to her mouth.

Lucy licked it and then nodded her thanks.

Seemingly irritated by the interruption, Janelle motioned to the young widow. “As I was saying, Bills follows you around like a lost pup. He’s besotted and you know it.”

Lucy smiled, seemingly not displeased by the situation.

“Are you willing to help me, Lucy?” Tess asked the doe-eyed widow.

Shoving the last bit of tart into her mouth, Lucy moved over to the secretary and scratched a note. After a moment, she handed it to Tess, who read aloud, “’Why don’t you believe them about it being a wager?’”

“I’m not saying that I don’t,” Tess lied. “I simply
want to be sure. It’s to protect the society.” That much was true. “I don’t want them making a mockery of us and the work that we do.”
Nor do I want them upending my affairs or my life.

She still hadn’t figured out what they could be investigating, and Wheaton, blast him, was still out of town. It wasn’t a bad idea to find out more before she involved him and Reynolds, anyway. Reynolds in the meantime had requested a meeting, but Tess had ignored the request and had sent a note instead, saying that she had nothing to report.

She needed more time. And more information.

Besides, no matter what Wheaton said about grooming Reynolds for bigger responsibilities, Tess didn’t trust his judgment and felt better relying on her own, with a little help.

For now, at least, she had some measure of control of what was going on. Once she told Reynolds or Wheaton, she’d be expected to follow orders. And when it came to Heath Bartlett, Tess wasn’t sure what orders she’d be willing to execute. He had her tied up in knots, not knowing which way was right.

In the earliest hours of the dawn, as she’d lain awake in bed, she’d forced herself to rake up every last memory of Heath from childhood, trying to decipher the enigma he’d become.

One astonishing memory had surfaced that she’d completely forgotten until now. It had been a Sunday morning, the first when she would be allowed to sit next to her father in church. She’d sworn to sit still, not to hum under her breath as she was wont to do,
and to behave the perfect little miss. She’d felt like a princess in her new pink gown and matching bonnet with fancy frills and lace.

As she’d stood waiting outside by the front entry, something had splattered against the wall just inches from where she was standing. She’d been so shocked, it had taken her a few moments to grasp that her wretched older brother Timothy had launched a mud ball at her. It was only Heath knocking aside Timothy’s arm at the last moment that had saved Tess’s dress, and her vulnerable feelings. Timothy had tried to cuff Heath for ruining his aim, but Heath had been too quick, and a chase had ensued.

Father had come outside just then, and he’d blamed Heath for inciting the incident. Heath had been sent off to perform additional chores for his infraction. Timothy had been loaded up in the carriage and got to sit beside Father for the morning service. Tess sat on her father’s other side.

And now that lad who’d so kindly saved a young girl’s feelings was investigating her and could ruin her life. Moreover, he ignited a scorching passion within her she hardly recognized. She couldn’t recall that coupling in the woods without her skin tingling and a primal heat warming her in very private places. It was exasperatingly disconcerting. She shifted uncomfortably.

Tess felt something in her hand and looked down. Lucy had written another note.

Collecting herself, Tess read aloud, “’I don’t think Bills would do that. Why would he lie?’” She looked
up. “I’m not saying he is lying. I just want to be sure. Will you help me?”

After a moment, Lucy shrugged and then nodded.

“Thank you.” Tess turned to Janelle. “So what do you propose?”

“Lucy sends him a message asking for a quiet drink together to talk.”

Lucy made a face.

Rolling her eyes, Janelle waved a dismissive hand. “You know what I mean.”

“We set out a decanter of some of that fancy brandy to loosen his lips.”

Lucy made a motion, then scratched a quick note.

“’He prefers port,’” Tess read, then smiled. “You really like him, don’t you, Lucy?”

Looking away, Lucy lifted a shoulder, but her cheeks had turned pink. She wrote, “I like his stories.”

“Well, then port should get them rolling,” Janelle interjected.

Lucy scribbled another note that Tess read, “’He has a fine sense of humor, too. Does his friend?’”

Tess frowned. “He used to. Now, I’m not sure.” They hadn’t spent much time talking; they’d been too busy with…other matters. She knew a fair amount about his earthy scent, his hands, his mouth, how his hard—

“Are you all right, Tess?” Janelle’s gaze was keen. “You seem flushed.”

Coughing into her fist, Tess looked away. “I’m fine. You were saying that…what were you saying?”

“Bills is the means to obtaining the answer. He’s an
easier target than Bartlett. Bartlett’s polite. Kind, even. But you won’t get him to talk. He’s too stiff-lipped.”

His lips were anything but stiff.
Tess recalled their smooth feel and how they’d ignited her slumbering passions to a scorching fire that she couldn’t seem to contain. Desire kept flaring up, reminding her of how good it could be. She hungered for another taste, longed for that passionate elixir…all the while knowing that it was poison. Knowing that it could only lead to trouble. Knowing that he was using her. That it was Miss Penelope Whilom he would marry. Miss Penelope Whilom to whom he would give his name.

Not that she wanted his name. But still, she wouldn’t mind if he’d
wanted
to give it to her. But what he was willing to do was probably in pursuit of his investigation.

Oh, he desired her. There was little doubt of that. They had a natural attraction, one that she would recognize if they’d been strangers meeting in a desert. It was a potent thing, hard to come by and harder yet to ignore.

Tess forced herself to remember the grave mistakes she’d made with Quentin. How her passion and naiveté had blinded her to his true nature. On top of that there was that one big mistake. She couldn’t think of the terrible blunder she’d made the year after Quentin’s passing without her stomach clenching.

Lucy shoved a note into Tess’s hand, bringing her back to the present. Tess read aloud, “’So what happens after Bills comes for the drink?’”

Janelle waved a hand. “Tess, you meet with him instead of Lucy. You tell him that Lucy likes him, but that she worries about his motivations. Then see what he says. Get him to talk. Then we’ll know.”

“Know what?” Aunt Sophie asked from the doorway. Her slate gray hair was tucked neatly into a pink bonnet with blue ribbons that perfectly matched her blue gown. The color complimented her pale skin and brightened her dove gray eyes.

“Aunt Sophie! What a treat. I haven’t seen you in days. How’s Aunt Matilda feeling?” Tess rose.

Aunt Sophie planted a dry kiss on Tess’s cheek. “Better, thank the heavens. She sends her love.” Turning to the others, she smiled. “Hello, Janelle, Lucy.”

The ladies made appropriate sentiments of gladness and welcome. Tess was pleased that her aunt was so well liked; she knew how much the society meant to her. A fresh resolve filled Tess. She had to find out Heath’s intentions and ensure that nothing tainted the society or its members.

Folding her hands before her, Aunt Sophie sighed. “So what has you three so engrossed? You look like a group of ministers attending a Privy Council meeting.”

Tess’s skin prickled as if touched and heat warmed her shoulders. She was being watched, and she knew, without doubt, by whom.

Once she turned, she would see those brawny shoulders that she’d clung to, those large hands that had performed wonders on her body, and those smooth lips that she’d tasted with hunger. Her belly fluttered with nerves and delicious anticipation.

Chiding herself for being the fool, she fixed her face to appear calm and turned.

The force of Heath’s gaze scorched her from across the room. Heat and promises reflected in his eyes evoked an instant spark of recognition inside her.

The very air between them was charged with the current of their desire. He wanted her as badly as she wanted him. Her head swam, her insides warmed, and she braced herself on the arm of the chair to support her weakened knees.

Beaming, Janelle waved a hand. “Ah, Mr. Bartlett, Mr. Smith, just the men we’ve been waiting for.”

Heath pulled his gaze from Tess’s, and she felt shattered by the broken connection.

“It can’t be…” Aunt Sophie whispered, raising her hand to her mouth. All color drained from her face.

Then she wilted to the floor.