In Temptation and Damnation with the Earl: A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Violet Hamers

  She placed her fingers on the keys again and began to play one of her mother’s favorite tunes.

  Alexander returned via the side door of the gaming hall, straightening the creases in his suit in an effort to return to formality. The day had been a joyful one, his own escape from reality, yet he had to return. He hesitated in the corridor when the sounds of the night reached him. There were the normal chatter and brash declarations of the patrons, yet there was a foreign sound there too that he was not accustomed to hearing.

  Someone was playing the piano. Alexander knew they had no musicians booked for that night. The schedule of his gaming hall was imprinted on his mind. He found his feet treading the path to follow the sound with curiosity and peered through one of the back doors of the music room.

  The door had been left open just a sliver, allowing him to peer through the darkness into the amber-lit room and find the source of the music.

  It was Cleopatra. She was lit by a bundle of candles around the room, casting her figure in a golden light. With her head bent over the grand piano, her tresses of black curls fell around her neck and shoulders, allowing him just a peek at her face.

  For the briefest of moments, Alexander was reminded of her namesake, Queen Cleopatra of Egypt. She had that regal quality to her – the striking features, the proud hair, and her formidable manner.

  She bore the smallest of smiles. It was an expression he had not seen her wear before, and it startled him. Her already pretty features were set alight by the expression and Alexander found himself smiling too as he watched her.

  As she finished the introduction of the song, she parted her full lips and began to sing quietly. At the beauty of her voice, he clutched the wall beside him.

  It was a sad song, but her voice was as soft as velvet, lyrical, and smooth as she sang. Together, her voice and her piano skills created truly enchanting music.

  Alexander shook his head and peered even closer through the gap, confused about what he was feeling. He should still be angry at the woman, he knew he should be, she had destroyed his life. Yet at that moment, hearing her beautiful voice and seeing her sweet features contorted in what was clearly sadness, he felt guilt.

  He watched her for many minutes, reluctant to move and alert her to his presence. It was clearly a private moment and he did not want her to think he was invading her privacy.

  The more the song went on, the more mesmerized he felt. He rested his head on the door frame with his eyes fixed on her, watching the sad smile that played on her lips as she sang.

  She often closed her eyes, perhaps absorbing herself in the emotion of the words she was singing. When she opened them again, he strained to see those chestnut-colored eyes, but they were focused on where her fingers played.

  As her song came to a close, she held a perfect note with her voice, high-pitched and long that seemed to nestle itself in Alexander’s chest, pulling at something hidden inside him. He breathed deeply, listening to it while she played the final notes.

  As her fingers left the keys, she laughed slightly. It was momentary but one of true delight. It only baffled him more.

  How can such a feisty and curt woman be so soft?

  She rested her fingers on the keys again and started another tune.

  Alexander had not thought it possible, but it was even more hauntingly beautiful than the last one.

  He closed his eyes as he rested his head and let his mind be absorbed with her voice, painfully aware of how torn he felt between his anger for Cleopatra and his enchantment. He lost himself in her voice instead, choosing not to think about his dilemma and concentrate on the peace her voice created instead.

  Something disturbed his peace a moment later.

  A door clattered.

  Alexander’s eyes shot open, and he peered back through the gap to see the other door in the music room from the direction of the gaming hall was now wide open and in the space stood two of his patrons, both clearly inebriated with liquor.

  Cleopatra’s song had come to a sharp halt and she had turned in her seat to stare at her intruders.

  Alexander’s gaze darted between her and the patrons.

  What is happening?

  Chapter Ten

  Alexander watched with his stomach knotted and his hand clenched the door frame.

  He knew the names of the two patrons that were currently swaggering into the music room, both unstable on their feet from their intake of claret.

  The taller of the two was Sir Gambon, a young gentleman whose morals were loose and who had habits that were just as shady. Beside him was the much shorter Lord Wilson, also young and frequently misled by friends such as the gentleman with him.

  They were both but boys in men’s suits who gambled away most of their parents’ fortunes in all of the gaming halls in London, not just in Alexander’s.

  “Look what we have found, Wilson?” Sir Gambon stepped forward again, his eyes fixed on Cleopatra.

  Alexander’s own gaze shot to her to see her flick her head back around in her seat and return her fingers to the keys. She began a new song, it was a lively tune, allowing her to concentrate on her playing and attempt to ignore her intruders.

  “Perhaps Trevor has finally changed his mind on offering company for his patrons.” Lord Wilson was stumbling, leaning dangerously to the side with the glass of claret tipping in his hand.

  The mere idea they thought Cleopatra was a woman of the night made Alexander’s stomach turn over. He clutched the door frame tightly, preparing to enter the room, but Cleopatra spoke up, preventing him from moving.

  “I am not company for you, My Lords.” She kept her gaze down on her playing, but her voice was loud and curt, the tone he had grown used to hearing from her. “Pray leave me in peace and return to your games.”

  “How could we leave now?” Sir Gambon arrived at Cleopatra’s side and peered down at her, leaning on the top of the piano.

  She reared her head away and scrunched her nose, apparently trying to move away from the stench of alcohol.

  “Tell me, darling. What is your name?”

  “My name is no business of yours. Neither do I respond to ‘darling’ so leave me be.” She shot the gentleman a sharp look, bringing a small smile to Alexander’s face.

  “That I cannot do.” Sir Gambon suddenly sat down on the stool next to her, bumping Cleopatra to the side. It caused her playing to stop. She moved as far as she could to the other side of the stool. “How can I leave now with such pleasant company to be had?”

  Alexander knew he had to intervene, he was on the verge of stepping into the room, but there was a part of him who wanted to see Cleopatra stand up for herself again and see that formidable spirit.

  “My company is never a pleasure you will experience.” Cleopatra snapped her head around to Sir Gambon and spoke with passion. She moved to stand and walk away, but Lord Wilson stood in the way, making her stumble back.

  She was cornered. Trapped on either side by the men.

  “There, there, we just want to get to know you. No harm in that, is there?” Lord Wilson, though short, was still much taller than the petite Cleopatra.

  Her dark eyes shot between him and Sir Gambon behind her.

  Sir Gambon took hold of her wrist and pulled her sharply back down to the seat. Alexander felt a wave of nausea at the sight. Now he had no choice but to intervene. It would mean losing two well-paying patrons, but that hardly mattered anymore.

  How dare he touch her?

  He made a move forward to enter the room, but the jerk of movement in the room made him hesitate again.

  Cleopatra would never be taken so easily. From the sudden yelp Sir Gambon let out, Alexander presumed she had stomped on the gentleman’s foot. He released her wrist and she shot to her feet, preparing to run, but Lord Wilson was still in the way.

  He blocked her path and took hold of her arms, pressing her back toward the piano.

  “She is spirited! How much do you charge?” Wilson pinned her
by her waist against the piano, she scrambled to be free just as Sir Gambon stood and moved toward her as well.

  “I am not your prostitute!”

  “Then we could take what we want for free?” Sir Gambon chuckled at the idea, reaching out toward her.

  Alexander’s mind shot back to an all-too-familiar image that bore a surprising similarity to the one before him. His mother walked into his thoughts, she brought with her the rage he always felt.

  He could not allow his patrons to touch Cleopatra, let alone assault her in the way they clearly intended to. He had watched enough – Cleopatra was the weaker party in this fight with the two men blocking her against the piano.

  He kicked the door open. It ricocheted against the wall as all three pairs of eyes turned to see his entrance.

  Cleopatra’s eyes flicked between the two men before her and the Earl who stood in the doorway. She had never seen his countenance so enraged before – his face was flushed, his strong jaw was taut with barely concealed rage and his gray-blue eyes were narrowed so much that they betrayed just a fleck of color in the dim light of the room.

  “What do you think you are doing?” his voice echoed against the walls of the room. At first, she thought he was talking to her, but it soon became apparent he was speaking to the men who had her cornered against the piano.

  She had never known fear like that before. She was sensible enough to know she stood little chance against two assailants, but she would have put up a fight all the way.

  Her hands trembled, still clutching the piano behind her as one of the men released her waist and stepped back.

  “Ah – Earl Larson. What a pleasure!” The man who had sat on the stool with her was already retreating across the room. “We thought you had purchased entertainment for us, that was all.”

  “You know very well, Sir Gambon, there is no prostitution at Wicked Souls.” The Earl’s eyes turned from the first man, Sir Gambon, he had called him, to the shorter of the two assailants who still stood in front of Cleopatra.

  Her hands shook as she walked away across the piano, she circled the instrument to put it between her and the men. When the shorter man made a move to follow, the Earl jumped forward, standing in the way.

  “Have I not made myself clear?” His tall figure and imposing presence made the shorter man scurry back.

  “Perfectly,” the man nodded, but he pointed at Cleopatra. “It is just–”

  His words were met with a hard strike from the Earl. With his first, he lashed out and the man reared back, clutching his face.

  Cleopatra covered her mouth in surprise. The fear that had been coursing through her body had changed into something else. What it was, she did not know.

  Is it relief? Gratitude?

  She struggled with the emotion as her dark eyes watched the Earl’s next move.

  He grabbed the shorter man by the scruff of his jacket and was dragging him toward the door.

  “Allow me to repeat myself, Gentlemen. There is no prostitution at Wicked Souls. Any lady you find here is to be left alone. Any transgression will earn you a lifetime ban from my gaming hall. Is that understood?” He opened the door and pushed the short man out.

  He stumbled slightly and hurried away, disorientated presumably both from the drink and the strike to his face.

  The Earl flicked his head around and turned his eyes to Sir Gambon, who stood staring at him from the side of the room.

  “Well, Sir Gambon?” The Earl gestured to the door with impatience.

  Sir Gambon rearranged his jacket and waistcoat, affecting a lilting smile and clearly taking time over his movements.

  “Perhaps I should take my custom to the Seven Sins? They seem to understand a gentleman’s needs.”

  “A gentleman?” The Earl walked toward him; the menace of his face made the young man back away against the wall, his assumed confidence had suddenly vanished. “You are no more a gentleman than the dirt beneath my shoes. Take your custom to the Seven Sins. You will not be missed. No true gentleman would ever treat a lady so.”

  The Earl gestured to the door again. “Now, will you leave, or would you like me to throw you out myself? I assure you, I would relish the opportunity, but as I am a gentleman, I will offer you your escape first.”

  Sir Gambon rearranged his waistcoat again and attempted to hold his chin high, but the blush on his cheeks showed he was embarrassed. He nevertheless followed the Earl’s hand and left quickly, rushing to find his friend who was still stumbling away down the corridor toward the main rooms of the gaming hall.

  The Earl closed the door harshly behind them. He locked it and grabbed one of the nearest chairs, wedging it under the door handle to prevent anyone from coming through the entrance again.

  Cleopatra tried to stop the trembling of her hands as she lowered her fingers to the curved lid of the piano. Her eyes could not leave the Earl’s angry form, he paced a couple of steps in front of the door, breathing heavily through his nose as though still enraged and looking for an outlet for his anger.

  She watched him for a few minutes, still trying to make sense of the jumble of emotions that were whirring through her body. Eventually, she found her voice.

  “Thank you.” It was quiet, but a murmur in the room. The Earl merely grunted in a reply. “Why…why did you do that?” she asked.

  This time her words caused him to sharply look at her. His face was contorted with thoughts she could not discern.

  “You would actually ask such a question?” His voice was deeper than she had ever heard it. It made her want to walk toward him, just to hear that voice again.

  He stared at her for a minute. Those gray-blue eyes were searching hers.

  She did not want to hate him. That thought broke through her hazy mind that was still clouded by fear.

  I do not want to hate you. I don’t want to think you’re a murderer. Tell me I am wrong about you. Tell me what really happened to Robert.

  She observed his handsome features. The angled jaw and nose were regal, the darkness of his short hair and the way it tickled his forehead made her want to reach out and brush it away. She longed to touch him, to thank him without words, but she stood perfectly still. She wanted an answer to her question. She wanted to hear him say something kind, something that would soften her thoughts of him.

  “Why did you help me?” she repeated her question, still holding onto the curve of the piano.

  He walked toward her. It made her turn and cradle her body in the curve. Her mind danced with imagination, wondering what it would be like to cradle her body in his arms instead.

  When he was just a step away in front of her, he straightened his spine even more and placed his hands in his pockets.

  “Well, you are to be mine after all and I do not want to marry tainted goods.” His words brought anger bubbling to her surface.

  She slapped him cleanly across his cheek. The sound echoed in the now-empty room.

  He had clearly been taken by surprise. He lifted one of the hands from his pockets to his jaw and rubbed it. The smallest of chuckles left his mouth.

  She hated him again. Any softness she had been feeling evaporated.

  “How could you be so foul?”

  “Foul? I just prevented your assault.”

  “For what? Not to help me but just to insure you have a bride who has not been touched before?” She tried to walk past him, but he blocked her path.

  Far from feeling the fear she had felt when her assailants had made that move, it merely intrigued her. Her eyebrows shot up as she stared at him.

  “Is that so wrong a desire?” he smiled down at her, making her feel small. “I want a wife who has been touched by only me.”

  “I have not said yes!”

  “You will.”

  She practically growled in frustration. She lifted her hand to slap him again, but this time he was fully prepared for her attack.

  The Earl caught her wrist mid-air and pulled it to his side. It made her fall fo
rward against him, their chests pressed together. She looked up at him in surprise, her eyes flicking between his.

  After a few seconds of staring, he leaned down toward her. She did not want to move away. She wanted too much to see what would happen.

  He moved his head slightly toward her again until their lips were inches apart, but then he stopped, hovering above her.

  She gazed at his mouth, admiring the curve of his lips and remembering what they had felt like against hers.