He waved her back down and took the seat at her right. “Pray, don’t change anything on my account.”
She frowned slightly, and he had the overwhelming urge to kiss that furrow away. “But as the master of the house, it’s right that you should take precedence.”
He picked up his knife and fork and began to cut his ham. “It will take some time to accustom myself with English ways again. Propriety was something that I didn’t have to concern myself with when I was abroad. Things were definitely more simple.”
She sighed. “It sounded absolutely splendid from the way you described it in your letters. I kept every single one of them and read your exploits until they became permanently creased.”
“Did you?” He smiled at that, imagining her before bed curled up with one of his letters. And then, before she snuffed out the light, she might allow her hand to drift down below the covers…
His grip tightened on his silverware. Those were dangerous paths to cross.
“It was a way for me to stay… connected to you,” she admitted softly.
He paused to look at her. “I feel as if I’ve wronged you by keeping you here on your own. I should have hired a companion—”
“Oh, no. That’s not what I’m saying at all. Please don’t think I’m complaining about my time here. It’s been an absolute dream.” Her focus turned distant. “I’ve felt like a princess in a storybook waiting for her prince to return.” Her blue eyes warmed as they lit on him. “And here you are.”
Hunter had to choke down the last bite of eggs, and then he pushed his plate away as the food he’d just consumed turned to ash in his stomach. He wiped his mouth with his napkin. “I’m far from a fairytale hero, Miss Welton. You should know that right now. I’ve done dastardly things all in the name of justice. One might even say, for someone who wants to see a man hang badly enough that he is willing to give up five years of his life in pursuit of enough evidence to send him to the gallows, that I am a villain.”
When he would have stood, she reached out and clasped his hand. Her gaze beseeched him. “What happened to cause all this animosity toward Lord Gregory?”
He hesitated, torn between confiding in her and burying the secrets of the past that had changed him irrevocably. “Let’s just say he did terrible things, unconscionable grievances against my sister that I can never forgive.” His jaw clenched. “I pray that he burns in hell for the rest of his days.”
With that, he stood and strode out of the room.
***
“Miss Welton.” The Countess of Virsage greeted Sephy with a kiss on either cheek. Although Charlotte was English, she’d spent many years in France and was influenced by many of their habits, including fashion. She was one of the few women that still wore a powdered wig and refused to give up her patch box. She was also the only courtesan Sephy knew who had married her protector, who had died and left her quite a wealthy widow. “I received your note this morning and was rather surprised by your urgent request to meet. Although,” she added with a wink. “I daresay I was rather intrigued. Come, sit. We shall have some tea while you regale me with a scintillating tale.”
Sephy couldn’t help but laugh. Her friend was a social butterfly who was a former pariah, and Sephy was quite sure Charlotte’s presence in the ton was tolerated because she knew too much about everyone’s personal life to be ignored. The secrets that she held were undoubtedly quite numerous. But then, she’d never hesitated to confide in her, for Charlotte was fiercely loyal to fallen women. While Sephy was still innocent, as far as anyone except her dear friend knew, the duke had debauched her.
Sephy slowly stirred the sugar into her tea with her spoon, trying to figure out the best way to approach the subject. “Falcourt returned last night, but I fear he seems rather… reticent to resume our nocturnal activities. He claims something terrible happened to his sister, Louisa, at the hand of Lord Alabaster Gregory which keeps him at a distance, and yet, he is reluctant to discuss the torrid details with me.” She glanced up at Charlotte. “I wondered if you might know anything about it?”
The countess tilted her head to the side as she took a sip of her tea. “I imagine anything to do with Lord Gregory would be rather detrimental. He’s a known libertine whose sadistic rituals rival that of the Earl of Rochester and the Marquis de Sade. No doubt if the duke’s sister had any sort of interaction with him, it wasn’t pleasant, which is why I was grateful when Falcourt rescued you from him.”
Sephy resisted a shudder, although just thinking of how different her life might have been if she’d been sold to the gentleman made her even more grateful for Hunter’s interference. “Indeed. Which is why I’d like to ask you a favor. Find out what happened to Louisa that Falcourt finds so difficult to overcome.”
“Of course.” Charlotte smiled gently. “You know that I would do anything for you. I was very close with your mother, as you know, and promised that I would look after you whether in life or death.” Her expression turned solemn, almost melancholy. “Tell me, how is she doing these days?”
“She still has a particular fancy for the tables, I’m afraid,” Sephy returned evenly, remembering that the countess had been a long time benefactor of her mother’s house for reasons she could do no more than guess at, although something told her they were rather particular friends. “It’s fortunate that the duke is rather generous with my allowance.”
“Oh, dear.” The lady shook her head. “I shall have to pay her a visit. Perhaps I can get through to her. She does relapse from time to time, and I have to remind her that she wouldn’t be the only one who suffered if the house were to fall to ruin.” She reached out and took Sephy’s hand. “And I will make a few discreet inquiries into Falcourt’s sister and send word once I have something to tell.”
“Thank you.” Sephy gathered her wrap and stood. “I should be going. I have a few more stops to make before I return home.”
The countess reached out and embraced her. “Take care of yourself, Persephone.”
She nodded. “I will.”
***
When Persephone walked in the door later that afternoon, she was greeted by the gruff voice of the duke in the foyer. “Where have you been?”
She blinked, not used to such a firm tone coming from him. She also noticed that once the butler had taken her outerwear, he quickly removed himself from sight. “I had some errands to run—”
Hunter’s brown eyes narrowed slightly. “Now that I am back home, I would appreciate it if you didn’t go gallivanting all over the countryside without my previous approval. It reflects poorly on me as a protector if I don’t even know where my mistress has gone off to.”
Sephy was speechless, but she recovered quickly enough. “I’m sorry, Falcourt.” She addressed him formally, for this man certainly wasn’t acting like the Hunter she had come to adore through his letters. “I will make sure to draw up a schedule of my comings and goings.”
His jaw clenched. “I don’t appreciate your sarcastic tone. Might I remind you that it is my generosity that has allowed you to live in comfort these last few years.”
She jerked as if struck. “Of course I haven’t forgotten!” She blew out a frustrated breath. “But neither do I understand where all of this anger is coming from. Have I done something to offend you since this morning?”
He shoved a hand through his hair and then set his hands on his hips. “Forgive me, I—” His throat worked as he swallowed. “I’m taking out my aggression on you when you aren’t at fault. I suppose I was just worried—” He broke off. “I was recently informed that Lord Gregory has been released from gaol.” He snorted. “I feel as if all the years I spent chasing him were wasted since he is once again free to roam the streets and carry out his misdeeds among innocent women.”
“Oh, Hunter.” Sephy’s heart instantly went out to him, his earlier upset fading in her mind when she was struck with the hopeless expression on his face. She walked over to him and laid a gentle hand on his arm, praying that
he wouldn’t brush her aside again. “I know how upsetting this is for you. But you can’t discount that justice will be served.”
His eyes burned with fervor. “Can’t I? When that monster assaulted my sister, not one man would come forward to testify against him. Without proper witnesses, he walked away without a single reprimand, free to do the same to other women.”
“But he was arrested when he returned to England, so you must have found some way to convince the authorities of his guilt?”
“None that I honestly believe will stand at this point.” He shook his head. “I should have known it wouldn’t be so easy. After studying his business dealings for years, I found out that he has been passing counterfeit British money, but his father’s influence could very well find a way to lessen the crime and convince the Crown to remove all charges.”
Sephy’s mouth slackened, although she knew that money went far to grease many pockets in London. “Surely the king wouldn’t allow that to happen.”
He shrugged. “It is my word against his, after all. And while I’ve been away, the Marquess of Highgrove has taken the monarch’s ear. After Louisa’s… incident, I spent most of my time in the country caring for her at my estate while Lord Gregory continued to be on the prowl. It was only after my sister had a devastating setback that I was compelled to begin this quest and believe that goodness would prevail over evil.” His lips twisted. “I should have put a bullet through his head when I had the chance. More the fool, I.”
She grabbed his hand and brought it to her heart. “Don’t ever say that! You must have faith that it will all work out as it should. To have even lowered yourself to such a despicable level is beneath someone of your kindness.”
He was silent for a moment, and then he surprised her by reaching out and cupping her cheek in his hand. His gaze roamed over her face, as if he wasn’t sure what he was looking at. “You are a rare gem, Miss Welton. For someone who was raised in a brothel, I fear it’s your naivety about the world that will bring about your downfall.”
With obvious reluctance, he allowed his hand to slip away and fall to his side. “However, since I don’t wish for your tutelage to come at the hand of Lord Alabaster Gregory, we will be spending an exorbitant amount of time together until he is dead, or transported, preferably the latter.”
Sephy couldn’t help but smile. Since his return, that was all she wanted, but after he’d made his sentiments rather clear the night before, she thought it was an impossible dream. “I would enjoy that very much, Falcourt.”
He nodded curtly, letting her know there was still that slight distance between them. “Good. We’ll start by going to Vauxhall tonight. Perhaps we can draw him out. After all, the best way to investigate a subject is in plain sight, and I have a feeling Lord Gregory will waste no time in enjoying the licentious delights society has to offer and, as you know, the gardens are rampant with whores and courtesans.”
“Aren’t you afraid that he might cause a scene?”
“Honestly?” Hunter raised a brow. “I rather hope he does.”
***
Persephone descended the stairs that night looking like a true mistress. She wore a thin red gown in the popular Grecian style, and even though it was late April, the evening was surprisingly dry and rather mild. Atop her head she wore a crown of gold leaves, giving even more credence to her appearance that she was a young Aphrodite, the goddess of love and passion, who dared to leave her throne on Mt. Olympus to mingle with the commoners on earth.
Her lips quirked upward in a satisfied smile when she saw the awestruck expression on Hunter’s face. If she couldn’t win him over by her gentle encouragement, perhaps she could seduce him with her attire, or rather, the lack thereof, for without a petticoat or corset it clearly defined her figure.
When she paused before him and he just continued to stare, she asked, “Are you ready?”
“Indeed.” His words came out a bit choked, so he fell silent and held out his arm.
She immediately accepted his offering and smiled the entire way to the carriage.
As they stopped at the infamous gardens of sensual revelry, however, the nerves began to flutter in her breast. She put a hand to her pounding heart and exhaled slowly. She had always steered clear of this place, but since she was here for Hunter, she could find the courage to walk among the perverse rituals that generally took place here.
Sephy felt a warm hand envelope hers. “It will be fine. I won’t let you out of my sight.”
She looked into the handsome face of her protector and saw the honesty in his gaze. She nodded her acknowledgement and once the duke had alighted, he assisted her down. He instantly threaded her arm through his and began to walk slowly toward the rotunda where torches lit their way. Fire breathers and acrobats were hoping to impress the crowd for a bit of coin and every now and then the sparks of brilliant fireworks would light up the night sky.
Under normal circumstances, Sephy would have admired the spectacular displays, but since they were on the hunt for Lord Gregory, her mind was more distracted than it would have normally been. And not only was Lord Gregory a very real threat, but the leering, blatantly open stares she attracted as she passed caused a chill to travel up her spine. But then, as the daughter of a known harlot who had been kept by the Duke of Falcourt for the past five years, where it was assumed he returned home on occasion to sample the delights that he paid for, it wasn’t as if she could act completely immune. She must play the part, and rather convincingly, if their ruse had any hope of succeeding.
“Falcourt. What an unexpected surprise.”
Sephy turned her head to see that a man with a blasé personality had approached them. She knew who he was, of course, for Jasper Cray, the Earl of Sandton, had been a thorn in her side, accosting her at the theatre and even her mother’s house where he attempted to persuade her to his bed with his lewd advances. He looked like a typical dandy with his yellow waistcoat and matching jacket, his snow-white cravat impeccably tied and his blond hair pulled back into a queue, but she knew the snake that lurked beneath that outer skin.
Hunter greeted the man with a murmured reply. “As if I would miss the chance to partake of all the delights London has to offer during my time abroad.”
“Indeed.” The earl rubbed his thumb along his lower lip as his hooded stare lit on her. “You certainly have some of the finest pleasures at your disposal. Might you consider sharing?”
Hunter laughed, a deep rich sound that vibrated down to Sephy’s toes. “As if I would let this particular treasure to slip away.” He slipped his arm around her waist, letting the other man know, in no uncertain terms, that his efforts to coerce her from him were in vain.
“Pity.” Lord Sandton removed his snuffbox from his jacket and took a hearty sniff before he bowed slightly and walked away.
“That man is insufferable,” Hunter muttered.
“I couldn’t agree more. He has been rather persistent in gaining my favors over the years.”
At this, Hunter’s brow furrowed as he looked down at her. “I left you to the mercy of the wolves when I left, didn’t I?” he said softly, his dark eyes catching the light from the booming display overhead as they caressed her face.
Sephy lifted her chin. She could withstand his aloof manner toward her, but not his sympathy. “I’m not helpless, Falcourt. My mother taught me to be resilient when it comes to overzealous suitors.”
“That may be true, but as your protector, I shouldn’t have put you in such a vulnerable position. I should have seen that someone—”
She held up a hand, cutting him off. “Please, spare me your platitudes. I managed just fine in your absence and if you decide to sever our union, I will survive that too.” She moved out of his grasp. “If you’ll excuse me, I see my mother across the lawn.”
***
Hunter knew he’d insulted Persephone as he watched her walk away. No doubt she was growing weary of being a courtesan in name only. And while she looked decidedly s
eductive in her flimsy gown that evening, he couldn’t allow himself to indulge. He clenched his fists, for he’d made a vow to himself that he couldn’t break—
he wouldn’t break.
He made sure that she had safely joined the other group of harlots before he turned and continued his stroll through the grounds, searching for the one person who mattered more than his red-haired temptress.
“I heard you’d returned from India.” Hunter turned to face the dark-haired man who had been a longtime acquaintance ever since their days wearing short pants in Eton. “I daresay I’m rather put out that you didn’t think it necessary to call on an old friend the moment you returned to London.”
Some of the tension left Hunter’s shoulders as he reached out and clapped the shoulder of Avion Kingsley, the Viscount of Darwood. “It’s good to see you, Darwood.”
“I wish I could say the same,” the viscount returned dryly. “I feel as if you don’t care for me anymore.”
Hunter chuckled as he clasped his chest. “You should know you are the only man I carry in my heart.”
The viscount grinned broadly. “Then I daresay my pride is soothed.” As he began walking, Hunter fell into step beside him. “I heard about Lord Gregory’s release. I assume that’s what brought you out this evening?”
Hunter shook his head. The man was always rather astute. “You miss nothing, do you, Darwood?”
“Not generally, no.” He paused. “And you seem to forget I’m one of the few people who know of Louisa’s… condition.”
The very mention of his sister’s name caused a wash of red-hot anger to course through Hunter’s veins. After six years of chasing Lord Gregory to ensure he paid for what he’d done, his fury had yet to subside. But then, Louisa was in a permanent state of unrest because of the blackguard’s foul misdeeds.
The Harlot's Hero Page 3
