The Bewitching Hour (25 page)

    “For some reason they adore Eugene.”
    The sight of them gathered around his feet was something Priscilla would never forget. “I don’t believe the feeling is mutual.”
    “No, but Aunt more than makes up for it. She’s positively gaga over the beasts. But we’re wasting time. Come along.” Cecelia took her hand and towed her along until they reached a door about halfway down the corridor.
    “This can’t be your chambers,” Priscilla said.
    “Of course not. They’re on the next floor. This is Eugene’s office.” She knocked and without waiting for a response opened the door and pushed Priscilla inside. “I’ll be back to get you in a little bit.” Grinning, she turned and disappeared down the corridor.
    Stratton sat behind a large desk that was cluttered with ledgers and stacks of papers. His office was smaller than Priscilla would have expected but she decided it suited him. The furnishings were of good quality with heavy masculine lines. Two leather chairs sat in front of the desk. On closer inspection she realized the legs of several chairs as well as the desk were well chewed.
    Smiling, he rose and closed the door behind them. “Hello, love. Has the afternoon tea broken up?”
    Just the sound of his voice caused a feeling of warmth to spread throughout her body and she wondered how she had managed to tell the ladies that they did not suit without choking on the words. “Yes. It seemed rather anticlimactic after you left. I had no idea you were so skilled at managing small animals. We were all very impressed. The ladies couldn’t stop raving. One would have thought you’d tamed a pride of hungry lions the way they carried on.”
    He grinned. “I’m happy to have been of service.”
    She gestured toward the chair legs. “Is this the room the dogs have been munching on?”
    His frown lasted no more than a few seconds. “Yes. Bloody animals.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and slowly moved her backwards until she was up against his desk. “Now, how much time do we have?”
    A little tingle traveled up her spine. She laughed softly and murmured. “Not long enough for what you’re planning. Cecelia said she would be back in a few minutes.” A slight hitch caught in her throat as he lifted her onto his desk. “Your aunt and Olivia think I’m looking at Cecelia’s wardrobe.”
    “So Cecelia arranged this? Mmm. I must remember to thank her.” He took her face in his hands and gently kissed her.
    Suddenly she pulled back and frowned. “You’re a most frustrating man. I’ve completely forgotten that I’m angry with you."
    He kissed the tip of her nose. “And why are you angry with me?”
    “You took Lady Williams home the other night and didn’t even mention it to me.” She rested her hands on her hips and did her best to glare at him.
    He stopped and grinned at her. “Are you jealous, Miss Hawthorn?”
    She sniffed. “Certainly not. I simply don’t like you keeping things from me.”
    “You have no room to talk.” He expertly maneuvered himself between her legs and scooted her forward. “And I wasn’t keeping anything from you. I failed to mention it because it was of no importance. I inadvertently walked into the middle of a quarrel between Lord Bennett and Lady Williams. She refused his escort home and my good breeding and exceptional manners dictated that I offer her a way home. You may blame both my mother and my education for that. However, from now on I shall inform you of every soul I convey in my carriage.”
    Her hands curved around the back of his neck. “Please do.”
    “I assure you that nothing untoward happened with Lady Williams the other evening. Aunt Mirabella and Cecelia were with me, and alas, there was simply no opportunity to ravish her.”
    She drew his face to hers and bit down none too gently on his lower lip.
    “Minx.” His eyes brightened with laughter. “You will pay for that later.”
    "Oh, my." Touching his lip with her fingertip, she said, “Should I be frightened?”
    “Terribly.” He caught her hand and pressed his lips against her wrist.
    “I don’t believe she cares much for me.”
    “Who? Lady Williams?”
    “Yes.”
    His handsome features drew into a scowl. “That’s utter nonsense. Everyone likes you. There isn’t an unlikable bone in your body.”
    She thought, trying to decide how to best describe the animosity she felt radiating from Lady Williams. “She kept looking over at me. It wasn't a friendly look. At first, I thought my hair was mussed or I had spilled something across the front of my gown. It was very odd. I can't think what her problem might be.”
    “Did she say anything to you?”
    “Not a word.”
    "Perhaps she was just out of sorts." His fingers found their way into her bodice. “We should continue this discussion later.”
    They were interrupted by a knock. “I’ve come to retrieve Priscilla,” Cecelia called out softly.
    “My sister has abominable timing,” Stratton muttered. He slid Priscilla to the ground and turned. “Come in, Cecelia.”
    She stuck her head in the door and grinned. “I apologize for the interruption, but it had to be done. We must scoot upstairs before Aunt comes looking for us. We should be knee deep in silks and muslins by now.”
    “Alas, life is full of disappointments,” Stratton commented. “I suppose I will survive this one.” He took Priscilla’s hand and brought it to his lips. “I shall see you tomorrow, Miss Hawthorn.”
    Priscilla glanced over at Cecelia who was watching with great interest. She felt her cheeks burn. “Until tomorrow, then.”
    Cecelia laughed as Priscilla joined her in the corridor. “The two of you are awfully moon-eyed over one another for a couple who don’t suit.”
    Priscilla took her by the sleeve. “You must do me a favor,” she said. “I can’t explain the reason for it, but you can’t breathe a word of this to anyone.”
    Cecelia looked over her shoulder, then bent her head toward Priscilla. “A secret romance! How positively thrilling.”

Stratton had just resettled himself behind the desk when Reeds appeared in the doorway. The butler had a pained look on his face.
    He looked up and said, “Reeds if you’ve come to tell me anything more about the bloody dogs, you may just as well go away. I don’t want to hear it.”
    “No, my lord, I wouldn’t presume to do so.
Madame’s creatures
are for the moment imprisoned in their quarters. But you have a caller.” He presented a calling card. “Lady Williams returned to collect her gloves and has requested a moment of your time. I have left her in the drawing room.” He paused. “The first floor drawing floor.”
    Stratton wondered what she had done to insult the butler. The first floor drawing room was small, drafty and rarely used. And what did she want with him? A servant could have easily retrieved the glove. How very curious. Perhaps he would learn what caused her strange behavior toward Priscilla. “Tell her I’ll be there in a moment.” He closed the cover on his ledger and set it aside.
    “Shall I bring her tea?”
    He didn't even consider it. He would find out what she wanted and send her on her way. “No. I believe she just had tea.”
    Reeds allowed himself a faint smile. “So she did. Very good, my lord.”
    She was still standing when Stratton reached the drawing room. Believing he could learn more by putting her at ease, he courteously took her hand and bowed over it. “Lady Williams, how may I be of service?”
    Her lashes fluttered and she graced him with a dazzling smile. “Forgive the intrusion, my lord, but there is a matter of some import and if you have a few minutes I would like to discuss it with you.”
    His curiosity rose. What was the lady up to? He gestured toward a chair. “Of course. Please have a seat.”
    "Thank you.” She seated herself with an accomplished grace, her half-boots crossed at the ankle, her hands neatly folded in her lap. “You’re most kind to see me. I trust you will consider it time well spent." Her lips compressed. Her gaze fell to her lap and a long moment passed before she looked up. "This is a little difficult, my lord. May I be forthright?”
    A rosy blush tinted her cheeks and he wondered if she was truly embarrassed or if she was able to blush at will. He waved his hand in consent. “By all means.”
    Her head tilted slightly as she looked at him. “This is the first time you’ve come to London for the season in a number of years. As I understand it, your motive was not your own amusement but rather to fulfill certain family obligations.” She paused. “Am I correct?”
    “You are.”
    “The social life of the ton is not your cup of tea.” She placed her hand on her breast, touched the small emerald pendant that ended just above her cleavage. It was a skillful pose and he had to admit that she was a stunningly beautiful woman--tall, amply endowed with hair as black as night and face like a goddess. And she tempted him not one whit. In fact, she rather annoyed him.
    He gave a single nod. “Again you are correct.”
    She moistened her lips. “Do you really find us all so tedious?”
    What in the devil was she getting at? Impatience tugged at him, but he shrugged casually. “I find the season tedious, but one does what one must.”
    “It is very possible there could be something in London you would find enjoyable." Her look grew bold. "Something that would ease your boredom. Something, I daresay, you would not find tedious.”
    His brows lifted slightly as he looked at her. “A fascinating statement. What are you suggesting?”
    The corners of her mouth curled with a seductive ease. Rising suddenly, she came toward him. “I believe we would find one another amusing.”
    He stood and let several moments pass before responding. “You are offering your companionship?”
    “Yes.” She placed her hand on his arm. The exquisitely cut garnet on her finger glowed against the porcelain white of her skin.
    He leaned over, placed his lips next to her ear and asked, “In what respect?”
    She gazed at him through her lashes. "Must I spell it out?"
    He nodded his ascent and smiled.
    “I am no maiden, my lord. I have certain accomplishments that you, at one time, found desirable. I thought we might recommence with our previous relationship.”
    What the devil was she talking about? He made no attempt to move away as he guessed at the meaning behind her words. “In bed?”
    She trailed her fingertip against his jaw line. “Wherever you wish, my lord. It was a relationship I much enjoyed. You are a magnificent lover.”
    “Such praise." He gazed at her, wondering what had prompted her to made such an offer. "I'm immensely flattered. It's not every day that a beautiful lady comes to my door and offers me such a gift." He closed his hand over her roving fingers. "Or perhaps it isn't really a gift but a negotiation. Do you ask for something in return, ma’am? Carte Blanche, perhaps?”
    A glint of anger sparked in her eyes, but she continued to smile. “If I may be so bold, you need an heir not a bastard. And as you saw the other evening, I need a protector." She pulled her hand from his grasp, letting it linger on his arm before it fell to her side. "But I wish for more than that. It would benefit us both. We would suit admirably. I am of noble birth; I understand the duties of a countess as well as the peculiarities of the ton. It is a role I was both born to and trained for."
    Not certain whether to continue the conversation or have her shown the door he forced himself to return her smile. "Are you proposing marriage, Lady Williams? How daring of you."
    "I know I am unforgivably bold in my suggestion, but it would be a sensible arrangement for both of us.”
    “Sensible.” He paused then gave an almost imperceptible nod of the head. “Yes, I suppose it would be sensible. As you say, you’re titled. You’re very attractive. You have impeccable style. I would imagine that you’re an excellent hostess. But tell me. Is love of no importance to you?”
    She frowned slightly. “Love? There would be a physical bond between us. That is no small consideration. You are a very desirable man, my lord. It would be no hardship to see to your fulfillment. But love is a fleeting emotion. It is for the low born who have little else. Our responsibilities are far greater than theirs. We haven’t the luxury of a love match, but I believe I could make you happy. And if you wished to discretely seek another’s bed, I would look the other way.” She paused. “I would, of course, ask the same of you.”
    He walked over to the window. The tree he had been standing beneath when he had first seen Priscilla, cast lacey shadows across the garden. The hole dug by Ulysses, filled in. The memory of that meeting teased his lips into a faint smile. He whirled around to face her. “If I were to act as your protector, rather than husband, you would have no objections?”
    A brief look of indecision crossed her face but she quickly recovered. “It would not be my first choice." With a sly smile, her gaze raked him from head to toe. "But there would be compensations and I feel certain that you would soon desire to make the arrangement permanent."
    How utterly sure she was of her seductive charms. She seemed to have no inkling that her very presence made him ill. “Are you destitute?”
    Silence fell between them. A long moment passed before she said, “Don't be absurd.”
    He leaned against the window sill and wondered if she had been behind the blackmail letters Priscilla had received. If so, how had she learned of Patrick's affinity for men? This bore looking into. “You’ve taken a great risk in coming to me with this proposal. I cannot believe anything other than desperation would lead you to this.”
    Her lips thinned. “You were a magnificent lover, my lord. I felt it was well worth the risk.”
    “You do me too much honor, my lady,” he said briskly as he strode toward the bell pull, “but the truth is, I don't even remember this encounter between us that you speak of. Regardless, your furrow has been too well plowed for my taste and your proposition is not to my liking. I’ll have Reeds show you out.”
    Fury distorted her face; her lips twisted into an ugly snarl. “You are a fool if you believe I will allow your insults to pass. You will regret every word.”
    “If you think I would consider a life with you, then you are the greater fool,” he returned. “Ah, Reeds. There you are. Would you be so kind as to show Lady Williams the door? Good day, ma’am.” With a cursory bow he left the room.

S
tratton hid a scowl as he looked at his cards. For the third time that week his pocketbook had lightened considerably as the game had progressed. He didn’t mind losing. He absolutely
hated
losing. At anything. But his mind wasn’t on the game. He was waiting to find out what Rand had uncovered on Lady Williams. He checked his watch and frowned. They had agreed to meet in the card room at Biddlemans’s at two and it was ten minutes till three.
    “You’ve gotten bit rusty, haven’t you?” his opponent remarked.
    He looked up at the Baron Marcus Chase Hawkins and glared. “A temporary condition, I assure you.”
    Hawkins wasn’t the slightest bit intimidated. He laughed and said, “Then I will enjoy my success while I can.”
    Hearing Rand’s voice in the corridor, Stratton tossed his cards on the table and picked up his brandy.
Finally.
“I’m all in,” he grumbled. “I’ve had sour luck of late and today seems no exception.”
    “And I appreciate it very much. As much money as I’ve lost to you over the past ten years, don’t begrudge me my success.” The baron cheerfully stacked the coins piled in front of him then glanced up as Rand entered the salon. “Danfield, come take your friend away before he decides to win his money back. I assure you I can use it far more than he can.”
    Rand made no attempt to hide his amusement. “You lost again? One would think you would know when to quit.”
    Stratton pushed back his chair and rose. “Had you arrived at two,” he said. “I would have lost far less.”
    “Sorry, but I was doing a favor for a friend. As a matter of fact, it was for you. I’m famished. Let’s go and have some lunch.”
    They said their farewells to Chase and left. Once they’d retrieved their hats and reached the front steps Rand said, “I’ve brought the Phaeton. Will the Beefsteak Society do?”
    Stratton nodded. “Sounds good. We can talk on the way over.” The street urchin who had been walking the bays brought the rig around and Stratton climbed into the Phaeton as Rand tossed the lad a coin and took up the ribbons.
    “Well, you’ve obviously learned something,” Stratton said, “What can you tell me?”
    “You were right about her finances. There isn’t a shop in Mayfair that she doesn’t owe money to. She does have an allowance paid from what her husband left her, though it isn’t near what you would expect. Her brother-in-law keeps a tight purse. Needless to say, Lady Williams and the present earl are constantly at odds.”
    Stratton lifted his brows slightly but otherwise showed no reaction. “And the scene I came upon the other evening? What was her problem with Bennett?”
    “Perhaps she learned he is also in dire straits.”
    That surprised him. He'd assumed Bennett was what he appeared to be--sophisticated and well-heeled. “The tables?”
    “No.” Rand shook his head. “Strangely enough, that isn’t it. His estates are badly managed and he’s made a string of foolish investments. Once the word was out that he was an easy gull, they all came running to pick his pockets. He’s sold or mortgaged everything that isn’t entailed but it isn’t enough to last him much longer. Comical really, both hoping the other would fatten their coffers.”
    Stratton absorbed this information then asked, “If it’s simply money, why did she pick me? There are others who would do as well.”
    Rand shrugged. “Hell, I don’t know why she’s fixated on you. I don’t even know what Miss Hawthorn sees in you.”
    Stratton snorted at Rand's remark. "Lady Williams claimed we had been lovers once. God's Truth, I don't remember it. I suppose it's possible. Those first few months after we returned from France are a blur. I couldn't tell you who I bedded or how much I drank." He paused. “What happened to her husband?”
    “Died in his sleep—heart attack, I think. They had been married almost five years. Lord Williams was fat and bald and ancient enough to be her grandfather.”
    “Do you believe she’s desperate enough to stoop to blackmail? I have my suspicions but at this point there’s no way to prove it.”
    "I wouldn't put anything past her. Are you planning to mention this to Miss Hawthorn?"
    He sat quiet for a moment. “ I don't think so. Not until we know more. Unfortunately, it seems the more we learn, the more tangled it becomes. I would dearly love to pound someone into the ground. I just don’t know where to start.”
    “Can’t blame you for that,” Rand commented as he slowed the bays to allow for the sharp turn ahead. “Once we discover the truth of it, I’ll even help you do the pounding.”