by Mary Brendan
Emma couldn’t understand why hearing her brother confirm something the Earl himself had half-admitted should niggle at her. Lance Harley was nothing to her and neither was the woman who left a hint of rose perfume clinging to his clothes. She put him from her mind, noticing that a couple were strolling their way. ‘You should go now, Robin, before we arouse suspicion.’
Robin hastily turned his back to the onlookers.
‘Will you give me a message to pass to Papa?’ Emma got to her feet, brushing down her skirts. ‘I know he will ask me if I’ve seen you. He is so happy to know you are back. Please don’t do anything to hurt him again.’
‘I imagine our father knows I need some money if you have told him how I am living.’
‘He has bankrupted himself once for you, Robin. He mustn’t get deeper into debt or he will end up in the Fleet again.’
Robin looked disappointed. ‘What about you? Why haven’t you married? A brother-in-law might have been of help to me.’
‘A dowry might have been of help to me,’ Emma returned shortly. ‘Gentlemen who fancy a wife who is poor, ruined and past her prime are few and far between.’
Robin had the grace to blush. ‘Well, don’t blame me for everything. It’s not my fault your portion has been spent. You started all the trouble in any case.’
‘I pleaded with you not to call Simon out!’ Emma felt hurt by her brother’s attitude, but knew it wasn’t the time or place for bickering and apportioning blame. What was done was done and, if not forgotten, was best left alone. ‘I have to go now. Papa will be wondering where I am.’ After a few steps she turned back to him. ‘You said you came after me last night because you had something important to tell me. What was it? To say you had a woman in your life?’
He strode closer. ‘Partly it was about Augusta. Also I had changed my mind about you not telling our father. I cannot stay in that hovel. Augusta is increasing. She is constantly crying and saying we must move somewhere nice.’ He paused to make a hopeless gesture. ‘I do love her, you know, and don’t want to see her suffer. We should marry or the child will be born a bastard. Our father will want to assist me in finding a decent home, for his first grandchild’s sake.’
Dismayed by that news, Emma swallowed her questions and quickly took her leave of her brother as the strolling couple looked their way. ‘I will do what I can and get word to you at your lodgings,’ she rattled off.
‘Worse and worse...’ she groaned to herself as she hurried on towards home. But something else had occurred to her. Augusta hadn’t shown herself last night, but must have been close by to send Robin after her. Now Emma knew who her brother’s woman was she felt a rather vulgar desire to meet Augusta and get to know a bit about Lance Harley’s family, just as he seemed keen to know all about hers.
Chapter Five
‘Get dressed and meet me downstairs. I’ll wait no more than ten minutes before I head back to London.’
The Earl of Houndsmere had spoken dispassionately while surveying rumpled bedding and entangled limbs. The chamber occupied space in a tavern that was situated far too close to his Hertfordshire estates for his comfort. The blonde had received the brunt of his flint-eyed contempt. She extricated herself from the covers and her lover and levered herself up on an elbow.
‘Who do you think you are, ordering me about? I’m your father’s widow and you can show me respect, Houndsmere.’
‘It’ll be a cold day in hell before I do,’ Lance drawled.
He was lounging against a door through which he had moments before inconspicuously entered the room. The woman gulped an indignant breath, but of shame at having been so discovered she displayed not a jot.
‘Once again I have been greatly inconvenienced by you and your daughter. If you wish my help in finding the tiresome chit, make haste and meet me downstairs. I’ll listen to whatever tale you have to tell, but know this: I have far more important things to attend to than searching out hostelries where you might be found fornicating.’ His eyes wandered on, prompting her beau to swing his legs over the side of the bed. Swiftly, the youth snatched at his breeches discarded on the floor and jumped into them. ‘Who’s this? The latest recruit to my stables?’
The young man turned florid.
‘Introduce yourself?’ the Earl suggested, thinking he had seen him somewhere before.
‘Peter Rathbone,’ came the barked reply.
‘God almighty...’ Lance said in genuine surprise. Now he recognised his neighbour’s son. The last time he’d clapped eyes on him the boy had been attending Eton and his voice hadn’t properly broken.
‘How old is he? Eighteen?’
‘I’m twenty,’ the fellow interjected, his blush deepening.
‘Be that as it may, I’d be obliged if you’d take yourself off now and, if you wish to stay healthy, keep your distance from her in future.’
‘He may visit me whenever he wishes, wherever he wishes,’ Sonia spat furiously. ‘The Dower House is mine and you have no say in it.’
‘I believe I do and you should take the time to read the documents you were given after your husband died. I can raze it to the ground if I wish and eject you back into the gutter whence you came. I tell this milksop to stay away from you for his own good unless he welcomes a dose of pox before he turns twenty-one.’
Peter Rathbone hastily grabbed at his coat and within a few moments the man’s escape was audible as he clattered down the stairs. Her young lover’s desertion caused the woman’s scarlet mouth to form a tight knot. In frustration, she swiped an empty brandy bottle from the side table and hurled it. Lance easily evaded the missile and stepped away from the glass shards.
She jumped naked from the bed and flew at him, fingers curled into talons that were aimed at his face. ‘How dare you tell him I’ve got the pox!’
Lance easily held her off and, spinning her about, shoved her back towards the mattress where she sprawled on her belly. ‘Well, if you haven’t caught it yet, I imagine it’s only a matter of time. He’s only a year older than your daughter. For common decency, leave the lad alone.’ Common decency wasn’t a phrase he’d usually use and he was immediately reminded of the woman who’d recently said it to him. Dark-haired and quietly beautiful, she was as far removed from this painted-face jade as was imaginable. Laughably, this woman would be far more welcome in society than would Emma Waverley.
Sonia peeped over her shoulder at him, wiggling firm buttocks and purring, ‘You may pull that insolent face, but you wanted me once...oh, how you wanted me...so many ways, Lance...’ Her gyrating became more provocative.
‘That was a long time ago, when I was as pitiable as that fool who’s just left.’
‘I’m only a few years older than you, so don’t make out I’m an ageing hag. We were a good match, Lance. I gave you everything you wanted and made you happy.’ She whipped over on to her back and, resting back on her elbows, openly displayed what she’d given him to his lazy gaze.
‘You never made me happy. That wasn’t it at all,’ he said with arrant self-disgust.
She crooked a finger, beckoning him as her knees dropped further apart. ‘I made you horny then. I bet I still can...’
‘Well, put your money down and I’ll take it. I couldn’t raise a smile for you, sweet. Now get dressed and meet me downstairs or you can search for Augusta yourself. And next time you want a tryst with a cicisbeo, travel out of Hertfordshire to bed him and pick on someone who isn’t one of my neighbours. I’m done with listening to gossip about you at the village inns.’
She bounced on to her knees, glaring at him. ‘And I’m sick of listening to talk about which scheming little strumpet has caught your eye.’
Lance turned on his heel and went out. He’d allow she had a point there. The opera singer had started a rumour that she’d hooked him. Just a week ago he’d have allowed her to be right. But for some reason his lust for
Maria had cooled. And neither had he felt any inclination to visit Jenny again. As for the woman he’d just left...the thought of bedding her made him feel sick and not just because she’d been his father’s wife. But he wasn’t without fault. He’d once allowed himself to be taken in by her flattery and lies, and that had set in motion consequences of which he would always feel guilty and ashamed.
Below in the back parlour he was served cognac by an obsequious landlord who diplomatically avoided looking directly at his lordship. The man could feel the rage emanating from his grand patron although the Earl’s demeanour was cold as ice. The woman upstairs was a regular and it wasn’t always the same fellow. Although she had been in with young Rathbone several times and they always took the same chamber and a bottle of port and one of brandy upstairs with them. The mystery was why the Countess didn’t entertain her lovers more discreetly on home ground. He concluded the cat had some twisted sense of decorum and was loath to foul her own doorstep.
Lance took a chair by the window and gazed out into the sunlit afternoon. Much as he tried to concentrate on the business in hand, his mind wandered back yet again to London and Miss Emma Waverley. He couldn’t remember any woman having such a grip on his thoughts. Telling himself the mystery of her brother’s resurrection was what really absorbed him wouldn’t work. She was the draw... He was already trying to think of a reason to go back and see her again. He wanted her to let him help solve whatever problems the Waverleys had, but knew if he asked her to trust him her golden eyes would fire with suspicion. A wry smile tugged at a corner of his mouth. And who could blame her for being cautious? Was he going to deny that he wanted her so much he was starting to ache and think he was suffering some sort of brain sickness? He’d only been in her company twice, yet the last time he’d been obsessed in such a way he’d been a green boy of eighteen and under the spell of the woman upstairs. But he was no callow youth now as Sonia had just reminded him. And Emma Waverley was no ingénue. And when he got back to London he’d need to do something about approaching her and regaining his peace of mind.
He watched Peter Rathbone tipping coins into the palm of the ostler who’d brought round his carriage. Soon the vehicle was swaying away, and Lance observed the gangly youth’s departure with a frown. He liked the Rathbones and hoped Peter wouldn’t persist in seeing Sonia or he might be disinherited. His parents wouldn’t suffer the humiliation of being saddled with a daughter-in-law, almost twice their son’s age, who might be a countess yet acted like nothing of the sort. He recognised himself in the boy: he’d been about the same age when Sonia had sunk her claws into him.
Within nine months of starting his affair with Sonia Peak, Lance had seen through her deceit and recognised his own shameful gullibility. It had taught him a much-needed lesson about allowing his loins to overrule his intelligence where women were concerned.
He’d discovered she was not a gentleman’s daughter who had been ruined by a cruel seducer, then abandoned by her family to make her own way. She was the offspring of a stevedore and she and her older sisters had been working at dockside taverns since they’d turned fifteen. Having done well from whoring, by the time she was eighteen she owned a part-share in a millinery. And that was where Lance had met her a few years later. He’d been shopping with the woman who’d then been his mistress. Full of spunk and youthful conceit, he’d been susceptible to the pretty blonde shop girl’s ardent pursuit and faux devotion. Much as his father had been years later. But Sonia’s greatest deceit had been over her daughter. The child had been kept hidden away with her parents while Sonia schemed to trick the Earl of Houndsmere’s heir to elope with her.
When he’d told her it was over her fury and spite had erupted. One thing Lance hadn’t anticipated was that, as a last resort to get him to marry her, she’d travel to Hertfordshire with her daughter, claiming the child to be his. If it had been true, he would have sired Augusta when still at school. Sonia gave up spouting her lies when she’d no further use for them. Within a short time of petitioning Lance’s father for assistance she had trapped easier prey. The widowed Earl, lonely and vulnerable, had made her his mistress despite Lance warning his father about her true character. But William Harley was beguiled by his young lover’s sweet attentiveness as he described her fawning over him. By the time the silly fool had discovered her sweet attentiveness wasn’t exclusively lavished on him it was too late. He’d married her. Within a year of the Earl’s second marriage his bride had given up the sham, flaunting lovers, spending wastefully and breaking her husband’s heart. William’s humiliation at having been taken in by her poisonous charm made him an embittered man in his final years. Thankfully, Lance had been reconciled with his father before that man’s demise. But William went to his grave despising his second wife. He’d made sure that Sonia would get very little from the Houndsmere coffers. She was cunning but uneducated and had believed her position in the Dower House secure. Yet every acre of land and every property on the Houndsmere estates belonged to the Earl to do with as he saw fit.
Lance got up and strolled to the window. He checked his watch. He’d given her enough time to show up and hadn’t been bluffing about setting straight back on the road for London. He swallowed what was left in his glass and was turning to leave when she sashayed into the room with a sulky look better befitting her teenage daughter.
Sonia helped herself to brandy straight from the bottle, gulping at it quickly before wiping her mouth on the back of her hand.
‘Well?’ Lance sounded impatient. ‘What have you to tell me?’
‘Augusta ran off to visit her grandparents in Wapping. I went there to bring her back, but she’s disappeared without saying where she was off to. I believe she’s still in the eastern quarter, but I haven’t the cash to pay investigators to find her.’ A blameful look followed that complaint. ‘I have so little money I can barely afford to eat,’ she added theatrically.
‘Stop gambling away your allowance, then,’ he returned with a significant glance at her ample figure. She looked as though she ate rather too much. ‘I received a letter from Harry Wentworth enclosing your IOU for twenty pounds.’
‘Did you pay it?’ Sonia asked eagerly.
‘I did not. I returned it to him.’
‘Tight-fist,’ she muttered. ‘You have to bring Augusta back, Houndsmere, and find a rich gentleman to marry her before she ruins herself.’
Lance burst out in genuine laughter. ‘Heaven help me...you’re not even joking, are you?’
Sonia had the grace to look abashed at that. ‘If you provide her with a large enough dowry, some impoverished nob will take her just so they can boast that they’re your brother-in-law.’
‘I’ll not foist her on to any man and make him suffer like my father did when he married you.’ He strolled to and fro, glancing out into the courtyard. ‘If she’s in Wapping, perhaps it’s best to leave her there where she feels at home.’ He gave her a glance. ‘I’m surprised you haven’t drifted back where you belong.’
‘I belong with you at Houndsmere Hall,’ she replied petulantly. ‘Like it or not, I’m an aristocrat now and I’ll fight to keep what I’ve earned.’
‘And earn it you did. Would you could earn respect so easily. You’ve made of yourself a laughing stock in the neighbourhood. Take care to be more discreet in future or I will remove you from my property and house you somewhere distant. I’ve an empty hunting lodge that would suit.’
Sonia glared at him. ‘You wouldn’t dare.’
‘I think you know I would,’ he answered flatly. ‘If I find your daughter is servicing seamen down by the Thames, don’t expect me to fight for her honour. And I won’t lie to some unsuspecting fool about her making him a virtuous bride.’
‘But you will look for her, Lance? I do worry about her.’
‘Do you know how ludicrous that sounds? If you’re worried about your daughter, madam, give up your whoring and gambling and spend
some time in her company, disciplining her on how to behave.’ He knew he was wasting his breath. Sonia was incapable of disciplining herself, let alone her child. ‘I will investigate her whereabouts and if I find her I’ll bring her home...for the last time. After this episode I wash my hands of you both,’ Lance said. And he meant it. But it suited him to go back to the East End and take a look around. He might turn up Robin Waverley’s hidey hole.
‘Will you take me home, please, Lance?’ Sonia asked slyly. ‘I’m stranded here now Peter’s run off with his tail between his legs.’
‘I’ll ask the landlord to loan you a gig. I know you can drive as I’ve seen you. Take the reins yourself rather than commandeer a stable lad you know you can seduce.’ He threw that over a shoulder as he went out of the door.
‘I shan’t drive myself! I’m a countess!’
‘Then act like one,’ Lance said cuttingly and went off to find the landlord.
Once he’d paid the shot he went into the courtyard and directed his driver to head for Mayfair. Stretching his legs out in front of him, he settled back against the luxurious squabs and closed his eyes.
He’d already forgotten about his stepmother. A goddess with dusky hair and tigerish eyes was once more filling his mind. He gave up the fight, allowing Emma Waverley’s image to dance behind his eyelids while he searched for excuses to return to Primrose Square to see her again. He genuinely wanted to improve her lot in life, but the urge to visit was not solely altruistic and therein lay the root of his problem. He desired her, wanted to make love to her and, what’s more, she knew it.
Chapter Six
Lance Harley wasn’t the only man frequently brooding on Emma Waverley’s lovely countenance and lush figure in a manner that would have made her turn crimson had she known about it. Joshua Gresham had her in his lustful thoughts, too.
The incongruous sight of the eminent Earl of Houndsmere entering Bernard Waverley’s shabby hallway was something else he couldn’t forget. The whole ton now knew that a few days ago Houndsmere’s carriage had been stationed in Primrose Square before he set off for his country retreat. The consensus of opinion was that Waverley had secured a fresh injection of cash. The puzzle was why somebody like Houndsmere would bother to make his acquaintance or to help him.
