Read Taste of Temptation Online
Authors: Cheryl Holt
Tags: #Romance - Historical, #American Light Romantic Fiction, #General, #Romance, #Fiction, #Fiction - Romance, #Love stories, #Romance: Historical, #Historical, #American Historical Fiction, #Regency novels, #Regency fiction
Taste of Temptation (35 page)
Clarinda had arrived at a propitious moment, content to listen and empathize, to share Hamilton’s sense of offense, and there was plenty about which to be outraged.
Tragedy never touched men like Odell or Hastings. They skated through the world, secure in their positions, in their power over others. It was women who paid the price.
“I don’t know what to do now,” Hamilton said. “I was so sure of him. I was positive he’d take my side.”
“You were mad to think so,” Clarinda advised. “A man will gravitate to his own kind. He would always have allied himself with the earl, without ever considering what you might need.”
“Jane is absolutely inconsolable. She believed the earl loved her, but he up and left without a good-bye. Can you imagine her despair?”
“Yes, I can.” At being reminded of how foolish a female could be, Clarinda sighed. “What about your bodily situation, Miss Hamilton?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re worried that your sister might be pregnant, but what if you are, too?”
The notion must not have occurred to her, or perhaps she had been so distressed over Jane that she hadn’t fretted over her own predicament.
Clarinda had herbs in the wagon that could bring on a woman’s courses to flush out the womb so a babe never became reality. She wondered if she should offer them to Helen and Jane.
Some might argue that it was wrong to use such a remedy, but when Clarinda pondered the fate of an unwed mother, with the Hamiltons destined to survive on whatever dubious charity Odell decided to provide, Clarinda would never judge what was best.
“If I am pregnant,” Hamilton seethed, “I’ll buy a gun. A very big gun, then I will hunt him down and shoot him dead.”
“That’s the spirit!” Clarinda said, witnessing the first spark of fury in Hamilton. “But let’s not kill him. Let’s make him pay through the nose. Let’s make Hastings pay, too. The bastards—pardon my language—shouldn’t be allowed to get away with such cruel mischief.”
“No, they shouldn’t.”
“There are standards of decency by which men are expected to behave. If they won’t marry, as is proper, they can cough up money damages.”
“I wouldn’t have the faintest idea how to make them. I’m so overwhelmed. I feel as if I’ve fallen into a dark pit that’s filled with poisonous snakes and I can’t climb out.”
“Have you no relatives who might speak to Odell on your behalf?”
“No.”
“When do you leave for London?”
“Tomorrow morning.” Hamilton peered down the pretty, leaf-strewn lane, but didn’t really see it. “What will happen to us there? If Jane is increasing, we’ll probably receive some cash to tide us over till the baby is born, but if she’s not, we’ll be tossed out on the street in a few weeks.”
“I wouldn’t put it past them.”
“It was so difficult to find a job this last time, and I can’t imagine my luck will have improved.”
Clarinda tried to picture Hamilton in London, fending for herself. She was smart and educated, but she wasn’t competent in any way that mattered. She hadn’t a clue how to barter, how to lie or cheat or steal.
“If you’re leaving for London in the morning,” Clarinda said, “I’m coming with you to be certain you’re safe. I won’t hear any argument.”
Phillip would be angry, but then, Phillip didn’t need to know. Clarinda would write a note and slip away before he even realized she was gone.
“Why would you help me?” Hamilton asked, appearing stunned.
“It just seems as if I should.” Clarinda couldn’t explain it any better than that. “How are you feeling?”
“You’ve comforted me enormously. Thank you.”
“Then let’s get you back to the manor.” Clarinda stood and pulled her to her feet. “I want you to buck up. You and your sister aren’t the first women to be duped by a handsome scoundrel.”
“No, we’re not.”
“You won’t be the last, either. Go into the house with your head high and your temper blazing. Show that witch, Maud Seymour, why she should be wary of crossing you.”
“I will.” Hamilton was growing more confident by the second.
“I’ll see you in the morning. I’ll be in the village, at the blacksmith’s barn. Tell your driver to stop for me.”
“COME in, Miss Hamilton.”
Helen entered the library, where a few hours earlier she’d permitted Captain Odell to insult and shame her. She glared at Maud Seymour, refusing to be cowed, refusing to have her perceive any upset.
Seymour was seated behind the massive desk, in the chair Odell had used, and Helen sat across from her.
She wasn’t sure why she’d obeyed Seymour’s summons. In light of all that had transpired, there weren’t any consequences that might arise from being rude to her. What more could Seymour do? Fire Helen—again?
“What now?” Helen snapped, not displaying a shred of courtesy.
“Let’s get something straight”
“Fine. What is it?”
“I assume you wish to follow the path Captain Odell laid out, where you’d continue to wallow in our charity by loitering in the earl’s town house until the captain’s clerk arranges your lodging and allowance.”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I intend. You despicable people owe it to me.”
“Well, I’m not about to proceed with the captain’s plan, so let me explain what we’ll do instead.”
“I can’t wait to hear.”
“I will travel to London before you. I insist on being present when you arrive so I can guarantee you don’t take any valuables.”
“You presume I would...
steal
from Lord Hastings?”
steal
from Lord Hastings?”
“Why would I trust a servant who has been terminated?”
“Of all the cheeky, impudent, outrageous—”
Helen had started to rise from her chair, and Seymour calmly said, “Sit down, Miss Hamilton, so that I may apprise you of the rest of it.”
“I never liked you,” Helen fumed, standing. “Since the day I was hired, you’ve been awful to me. You’re vicious, and you’re cruel, and I won’t tolerate any more of your hate-filled diatribes.”
“Your sexual affair with Captain Odell has been exposed.”
The comment was so casually voiced, and so unexpected, that Helen blanched and sank into the chair before she could hide her reaction.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she tried to claim.
“Don’t you?”
“You accuse me of being a thief. You accuse me of being a harlot. What next? Armed robbery? Premeditated murder?”
“So you deny the relationship?”
“Yes, I do.”
As if Helen hadn’t rebuffed the charge, Seymour kept on, apparently possessed of many secrets to which Helen wasn’t privy.
“You need to learn a few details about your precious captain.”
“I won’t listen to any gossip, and you have an incredible amount of gall to denigrate him when he’s not here to defend himself.”
“I’m not disparaging him. He personally provided this information to me when he first came to stay. There wasn’t much I could do about it, so I felt forced to agree.”
Seymour rang a bell, and a rear door opened. The maid Lydia entered.
“You’ve met Lydia, haven’t you?” Seymour inquired. “She tended your rooms.”
“Yes, I know Lydia.”
Seymour gestured to the sullen, buxom girl, and as she approached the desk, Helen’s panic flared.
Lydia was attired in a new dress, one that had to have cost much more than a servant could ever afford. Her hair was styled in a flattering fashion, and she’d applied a rosy cosmetic to her cheeks and lips.
In the fetching gown, and with her face and hair arranged, she was downright pretty.
Why had she been summoned? Had she been spying for Seymour? If so, what might she have discovered?
“I doubt you’ll believe me,” Seymour contended, “but I’m telling you this for your own good.”
“Oh, I’m sure you are. You’ve been a veritable saint in worrying about me.”
“The captain is a handsome, virile rascal who could charm any female. I don’t blame you for becoming involved with him.”
“We were not involved!” Helen insisted.
“At the moment, you’re angry with him, but eventually, he’ll return from Scotland, and when he does, he’ll try to seduce you again. He’ll ply you with money and other support, and ultimately, you’ll succumb. He’s very adept that way, so he’s hard to resist”
“You have a point to make. Please get to it”
“You must understand why you should go away and never see him again. I realize this will hurt you, but I don’t know how to reveal it without being bluntly clear.”
“What is it?” Helen sneered, exasperated beyond her limit.
Seymour gestured to Lydia again. “How are you acquainted with Captain Odell?”
Lydia stared at the floor. “I have two children by him.”
Helen gasped.
“What are their names?” Seymour asked.
“Tim and Ruth.”
“And what was the news you just shared with me?”
“I... I... may have a third on the way.”
“When were you last intimate with Captain Odell?”
“Yesterday, ma’am,” Lydia whispered so softly that Helen had to lean forward to catch the words.
The room was so quiet that Helen could have heard a pin drop. Time seemed to have halted. The earth had stopped spinning on its axis.
Could Tristan Odell have acted so brazenly? Could he have dallied with Helen and another servant under the very same roof? Was it possible?
What did she really know about him? On the night he’d hired her, she’d been in a brothel, but he’d been in a brothel, too, and she always managed to forget that fact.
He had a lusty sexual appetite—as his conduct toward Helen had shown. Why assume she was the only woman to tickle his fancy?
Still, he was an honorable man, driven by duty and responsibility. Despite how enraged Helen was over Jane, he would have viewed himself as doing what he had to for Lord Hastings.
Could that sort of man—one who was loyal and devoted—change his stripes so rapidly? It seemed unlikely.
“She’s lying,” Helen scoffed.
“Is she?” Seymour glared at Lydia. “Lydia, how was it that you initially came to be seduced by Captain Odell?”
“I was... was...”
She couldn’t say it, and Seymour snapped, “Spit it out, you wretched girl. I haven’t got all day!”
“I was governess to his nephew. At his house in Edinburgh.”
“Your dress is lovely. Where did you get it?”
“The captain bought it for me.” Lydia was still staring at the floor. “He favors seeing me in blue.”
“You’re wearing a locket. From him, I suppose?”
“To remember him by—while he’s away.”
She pulled it from the bodice of her gown, where it had been dangling between her breasts on a gold chain. For the briefest instant, she peeked up, her eyes locking with Helen’s, and Helen saw what had to be jealousy and malice.
Lydia looked as if she hated Helen, as if she’d like to do her harm.
Was she fond of Odell? Could her story be true?
“That will be all,” Seymour said.
Lydia scowled but didn’t leave, appearing as if she was anxious to spew a few more horrid comments, and Seymour barked, “Lydia! You’re excused.”
Lydia nodded, then left without uttering whatever it was she was hoping to impart.
Helen was stunned speechless, and she yearned to pack her bags and flee immediately, but she couldn’t go till morning, when the carriage was ready.
“He brought her with him,” Seymour said, “when he came to take control of Rose and Michael. He advised me that she would live with us, as a kind of private consort”—she snorted at this—“but I had no idea how to explain such a tawdry situation. I insisted she at least make a pretense of being a housemaid, and ultimately, he agreed.”
“Is that why she’s so sullen in her duties?”
“Yes. She deems them beneath her, and why shouldn’t she? She’s enjoyed his attention for years, and you—better than anyone—understand how elevating it can be to a woman’s life.”
“I certainly do.”
Helen glanced down at her hands, trying to work it out, trying to decide what to believe. How could she discount what she’d just witnessed? How could she refuse to see what was right before her very eyes?
If Lydia was practically Odell’s common law wife, what had Helen been?
Was she merely another naïve, lonely governess who’d crossed his path? Had he viewed her as an easy mark?
It was all too much to absorb, and she rubbed her temples, wishing she could massage away the terrible questions that were roiling inside her head.
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