Simply Shameless (12 page)

But then she was a skilled whore. He drank more coffee, wincing at the bitter dregs. She probably thought she'd seen the last of him, but she had no idea.

He pushed away from the table and went to find his hat and gloves. Madame Helene, or whatever her damned name was these days, was in for another shock.

Philip wasn't surprised that Helene kept him waiting for a good half hour before she agreed to see him. In truth, he'd wondered if she would see him at all and that he would eventually have to conduct his business with her through his solicitor. So much more enjoyable to see her face when he told her the situation.

He halted in the open doorway to stare at her in surprise. Her office was as businesslike as his own, with no feminine frills or furbelows to distract her. She sat behind a large neat desk, her blond hair drawn up in a severe coronet on the back of her head, her green dress as high-necked and demure as a governess's. A small pair of spectacles adorned the end of her nose, but she took them off when she saw him. She didn't get to her feet.

"Madame." He bowed.

"Mr. Ross." Her tone was icy. "What can I do for you?"

He took his time settling himself in the chair in front of her desk. She tapped the end of her pen as she waited for him to return his attention to her.

"Did you come to apologize?"

He blinked at her. "What?"

She leaned forward. "Did you come to apologize for your appalling behavior last night?"

"I wasn't aware that I had behaved appallingly."

"You insulted and mauled me."

"I did not maul you, and you kissed me back quite willingly."

Color flooded her cheeks. "I merely allowed you to kiss me because you gave me no choice."

"Liar." He favored her with a lazy smile, then frowned as she got to her feet.

"If you have finished insulting me further, sir, you may leave."

"But I haven't even begun."

She sighed and placed her hands flat on the desk. "What do you want, Mr. Ross?"

From the pocket of his greatcoat, he withdrew the documents his solicitor had given him.

"I'm not sure if you remember, but Gideon Harcourt did mention last night that I have succeeded to a title."

She remained standing, her expression unencouraging. "Am I supposed to be impressed?"

He unfolded the documents and smoothed them under his fingertips. "You certainly should be interested. I'm now Lord Philip Knowles."

He had the satisfaction of seeing the color drain from her face and to watch her sink slowly back into her chair.

"You
are Lord Derek Knowles's heir?"

"That is correct, which means I'm also the heir presumptive of the Earl of Swansford."

"Do you expect me to congratulate you?"

He shrugged. "Not really. I'm more interested in your reaction to a certain set of papers my solicitor handed me concerning your business." He tossed the papers onto her desk and waited until she pulled them in front of her. "Take your time reading through them.

I'm sure you'll agree they are authentic."

She looked up at him, one hand flattened over the documents. "I know they are genuine. I knew Lord Derek and his wife very well."

"You knew his wife?" He laughed. "And how did she react to your friendship with her husband?"

She held his gaze. "She was happy for me."

Something in her eyes made him feel ashamed of his unspoken assumptions. He shrugged off the uncomfortable feeling and returned to the matter at hand.

"The thing that interests me is how a respectable gentleman like Lord Derek ended up owning fifteen percent of a whorehouse."

"It is not a whorehouse. It is a private club." Helene looked down her nose at him. "And how it came about is none of your business, is it?"

"I can guess, though. How many men did you have to seduce to get what you wanted, Helene?"

Her smile was as sharp and cold as his. "I needed only four grateful men to succeed. That was enough."

"Only four? How admirable. Did you reward them all at once or individually?"

"Again, that is none of your business."

"And if I'd stayed with you, you wouldn't have needed any of those other men, would you?"

She looked at him then, her gaze dismissive. "You wouldn't have stayed long, Philip. You would've run back to your family at the first opportunity."

His fingers clenched on the arm of the chair. "We'll never know, will we? You didn't give me the chance."

"You married less than a week after you left me. I would hardly say that vouched for your constancy."

Anger threaded through him. "How dare you assume the moral high ground when you are the one who chose to return to whoring?"

She flinched as if he had struck her. "I did what I thought was best for both of us." She drew a deep breath. "Now, do you wish to discuss your inheritance or rake over old hurts?" "I'm not hurting."

She stared at him again. "If you say so, Mr. Ross." "It's
my lord."

She bit down on her lower lip until he could see a speck of blood. "I would like to purchase the shares from you." "What if I don't wish to sell?"

She frowned at him. "Why on earth would you wish to keep them?"

"Because, apparently, they provide me with a decent sum of money every quarter. Every nobleman needs ready cash."

Her hands gripped each other so hard he could see the whiteness of her slender bones. "I am willing to pay you twice their value."

"But I am not willing to sell at any price." "Why?"

In truth, he wasn't quite sure exactly what he intended to do. He was far more interested in finding out how Helene intended to deal with him. The sight of her name on the legal documents had provided him with his first spark of interest since his wife's death over a year ago.

"That is none
ot your
business." He shrugged. "Perhaps I can help you become more respectable. Turn this place into a center of culture and learning."

"It is a center of sexual culture and learning, and I have no intention of taking any advice from you at all," she snapped.

He raised his eyebrows. He was almost beginning to enjoy himself. "You have no choice.

If you insist on denying me my legal right to meddle in your business, I will take you to court."

Her smile was infinitely superior. "I hardly think you'll do that. Think of your no-doubt spotless reputation. What man would wish to be associated with a business such as this?"

"But if I changed it into something more respectable ... ?"

Helene shot to her feet. "I will not allow you to do this to me."

He leaned back in his seat to look up at her. "How are you going to stop me?"

"I intend to talk to the other shareholders. Between us, I am sure we can get you to see reason."

"Of course, the other shareholders. I'd forgotten about them." Philip got to his feet.

"Perhaps you should do that and then we can have another discussion. But I give you fair warning: I am not going to sell."

"Why do you hate me so much?"

For a second, her composure deserted her, and he saw the anguish in her eyes. He shoved his hands in his pockets and focused his gaze on her desk.

"There's no need to be so melodramatic. I don't hate you. This is just a business decision."

"It feels very personal to me." She drew a quick breath. "Are you still trying to punish me for refusing your marriage proposal?"

"Did I really propose to you?" He faked a laugh. "I'd forgotten about that. I can't believe I was so stupid."

"If you were stupid, then surely you should be grateful to me for refusing your generous offer rather than bringing up old grievances and threatening me."

She searched his face as if trying to see the man he had once been. But he knew it was useless. That man had died long ago in the endless void of his marriage.

"As I said, it isn't personal." He faced her. "I own fifteen percent of your business, and I am entitled to my opinions about the way it should be run."

"You are entitled to nothing."

Her moment of weakness was past. The woman who faced him now was magnificent in her scorn.

"As I said, madame, we will see, won't we?" He bowed and retrieved his documents from her desk. "Good morning. I'm sure you'll be in touch."

He left her with a condescending smile that disappeared the moment he gained the street.

Inside his carriage, he stared blankly out the window. His damned conscience pricked him. Helene didn't deserve such treatment. She had obviously managed to become successful without him. Was that what rankled? That she was happy and he wasn't? Had he ever been happy since he'd left her at that inn? He closed his eyes. What a mean-spirited man he had turned out to be.

It would be better for all of them if he sold her the shares and went back to the countryside. With his new rank and social obligations, it wasn't as if he didn't have plenty to do. His children might also appreciate a visit from him. They had yet to settle comfortably in their new home. He missed them far more than he had anticipated.

Helene stirred his senses, made him feel emotions he had long believed buried and gone.

Her angry response to him, the power he held over her, made him feel alive. Even as he thought about leaving, he realized he couldn't. Helene Delornay had cast her spell over him again, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Why?

Helene collapsed back into her chair as Philip shut the door behind him. She covered her eyes with her shaking hands and concentrated on her breathing. Philip Ross owned fifteen percent of her business, and he had no intention of selling the shares to her. She felt as helpless as her eighteen-year-old self when Philip had crossed her path and irrevocably changed the course of her life.

Why was he doing this to her? He seemed to be enjoying himself. Had he really turned into the kind of man who held his grievances so close to his chest that he would wait a lifetime to get his own back? Had her rejection of him really soured his life so badly?

Despite her reputation, she'd never seen herself as the kind of woman men could never forget.

Apart from his excess of morals, Philip seemed to have done remarkably well for himself by most people's standards.

Helene slowly opened her eyes. Was she going to let him wrest control from her again?

He thought he had all the power, but he had no idea how hard she had fought to get where she was or what she was prepared to do to keep him away from her. Despite their differences, she had the twins to think of as well. God forbid they ever found out about Philip. She had to find a way to make him leave.

She would talk to the other trustees today and see if there was any legal way to buy back Philip's shares. Somehow she doubted it. The original agreement had been based on the men's high opinion of her, not Philip Ross's obvious disdain. She smiled to herself. If there was no legal way to get rid of Philip, she had a few interesting ideas of her own.

She patted her disordered hair back into place and headed out into the hallway. She couldn't sit and wait for disaster to find her. It would be better to go and see Viscount Harcourt-DeVere right away.

"Unfortunately, I don't think there is anything we can do, Helene. As you said, the agreement was made between friends who wanted the best for you. We didn't make any provisions for hostile shareholders." Viscount Harcourt-DeVere sighed. "Derek was a fool not to cede the shares back to you. I told him to do it on countless occasions."

Helene could only nod in agreement. She turned to George, who sat on the corner of the viscount's desk, his arms folded.

"Can you think of anything, George?"

He shook his head. "I'll have to read over the contract again, but I believe the viscount is right."

Helene frowned at them both and resumed pacing the Turkish red carpet. To her dismay, the Duke of Diable Delamere was in France and unable to attend the impromptu meeting.

Although given his more arrogant nature, it was perhaps for the best. Philip Ross might find himself being forced into a duel. Despite the watery sunshine and a roaring fire, the study felt cold, and she shivered.

"There has to be something. I cannot allow this man back into my life."

"Back into your life?" George asked, his expression full of interest. "Do you already have an acquaintance with the new Lord Knowles?"

Helene reluctantly faced him. "I've met him before."

"At the pleasure house?"

She stared at George. She'd never told anyone the identity of the twins' father, and she had no intention of divulging it now.

"It must have been there. I hardly could've met him at Al-mack's."

George held up his hands. "There is no need to cut up at me. I'm on your side, remember?

I don't want this idiot coming in and ruining our business either."

Helene took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, George. I'm just so worried about what will happen."

The viscount cleared his throat. "I can only apologize for sending him to the pleasure house to meet you. I had no idea he meant to be difficult. You still control the vast majority of the business, Helene. Despite his threats, there is little the man can actually do without taking you to court."

"He said he was prepared to do that if necessary."

"I'll make sure that doesn't happen, my dear. Despite my failing health, I still have a great deal of influence in legal circles, and the Duke of Diable Delamere has even more." The viscount turned to ring the servants' bell. "I'll also summon the new Lord Knowles to a meeting here with me and set him straight on a few matters."

Helene slumped into a chair. "That is very kind of you, but I'm not sure it will make much of a difference."

"You'd be surprised, Helene. I can make his transition to the peerage easier or a lot harder, depending on the actions he chooses to take."

"I appreciate your help." Helene got to her feet and walked over to the desk. Close up, she could see the lines of strain on the viscount's face, the pattern of ill health on his sallow skin. "But you must promise not to overexert yourself on my account."