“I’m afraid to be the bearer of bad news.” Darwood’s voice brought Hunter back to the present. “But I heard Lord Gregory was summoned to his father’s estate. I can only assume it’s so he can finally receive a proper reprimand from his sire.”
“I’m sure it will be nothing more than the slap on the wrist he’s received in the past,” Hunter noted sourly. “The fact that the marquess doesn’t see what an evil man his youngest son is would give me cause for concern about his sanity as well.”
The viscount shrugged. “You should know as well as I that the mistakes of the peerage are often swept under the rug. It would have to be something truly heinous in order to command the attention of the king. Although now that the hostilities between Britain and France have been suspended by the Treaty of Amiens he might be in a more amicable state of mind to listen to your grievances. However, I would not delay in making a new case against Lord Gregory. The king’s mental health has been in decline for the past several years. If he is declared insane, you realize that George will take over as Regent and then any hope you might have of appealing to the Crown will be over.”
Hunter’s lips twisted. “He never has been very fond of me, considering I’m the only bastard ever acknowledged by the Crown. He also blames me for the king’s decline, because of the temporary liaison he had with my mother, but he fails to see that I had anything to do with that. The king met Queen Charlotte on the day of their wedding, but it was my mother he’d wanted to marry.”
Darwood nodded. “My father told me that George was quite smitten with Lady Sarah before her marriage to Bunbury, but then after her affair in which she bore your half-sister, Louisa, and then you, it incited his grounds for divorce.”
“Yes.” Hunter sighed. “I remember Bunbury quite well in my youth. He would come to call upon my uncle’s house where we lived and demand that my mother accept the terms of the decree. It was a nasty affair. Even more so every time he saw me or my elder sister, Louisa, for it was glaring proof of her infidelity.”
Hunter paused at the edge of the grounds. He glanced around and noticed they had made a full circle back to where they were. His eyes instantly sought out the wealth of red-gold hair and the lines about his mouth softened slightly when he saw she was safe, surrounded by her mother’s ladies.
“At least my mother is happy now,” he murmured, keeping his focus on Persephone. “She remarried and moved to the country where she remains with her eight children. Of course, Louisa and I chose to remain with our uncle in London until we came of age.” His mouth tightened once more. “After Louisa’s assault, I sent her to my country estate where I spent months looking after her, until it became… too much and I was forced to hire a full time caregiver.” He paused. “I haven’t seen her in years, finding it too… painful to do so, although her nurse keeps me abreast on Louisa’s progress through regular correspondence. During my time in India, it was that knowledge and Miss Welton’s familiar hand that kept me sane.”
“Yes,” his friend noted perceptibly. “I have noticed your infatuation with your mistress this evening, in which I would exercise caution. The king would likely not take too kindly should you turn a courtesan into a duchess.”
His shoulders stiffened as he turned to the viscount. “It’s not as if it hasn’t happened before, but rest assured I’m not prepared to marry now, perhaps never. But if the time should come, it’s not my father’s choice, but mine, who I take as my bride.”
Darwood inclined his head. “I admire your determination, Falcourt, but don’t say I didn’t warn you, especially if you wish to continue to plead your case to the Crown about Lord Gregory.”
With that parting remark, the viscount strode away, giving Hunter even more to consider.
Chapter Four
“You’re awfully quiet.” Persephone couldn’t stand the silence any longer. They were nearly home, but the tension in the carriage was starting to frustrate her. If Hunter wasn’t going to start a conversation, then she would, as well as intending to make him talk whether he wanted to or not. “Are you upset that Lord Gregory wasn’t there tonight?”
The duke was looking out the window, and while he replied, he kept his focus on the passing scenery. “I was rather disappointed, but I fear I have other things on my mind.”
She waited, but when he didn’t elaborate, she asked softly, “I have a good listening ear if you need one.”
Finally, he turned his head to look at her, but while there was a smile on his face there was a touch of melancholy behind it. “You have truly become a remarkable woman, Miss Welton. I regret that I wasn’t here to see you blossom. It would certainly have been preferable to chasing some reprehensible criminal all over the continent.”
Sephy didn’t know what to say to that, but as the carriage rolled to a stop and the duke climbed out, the moment passed.
As she stepped to the ground, the groom rushed over to her. “Miss Welton!” He was a boy of no more than sixteen, but Sephy had carried on many conversations with him over the past year since he’d been employed. He had a mop of unruly red hair that curled over his forehead and a face dotted with freckles. He paused, and glanced at the duke and bowed respectfully. “Your Grace.”
Sephy grinned, for she could tell his eagerness to relay some news was making it difficult for him to stand still. He practically vibrated with the energy he was trying to withhold.
“What is it, Henry?”
He rocked back on his heels and wore a rather smug expression. “Lady had her puppies.”
Sephy instantly clapped her hands together. “Finally!”
“Come on!” Henry could no longer contain his enthusiasm as he led the way to the stables where the white and rust colored Springer Spaniel was laying on her side in an empty horse stable surrounded by straw with a litter of about six various colored puppies rooting around her belly, hoping for sustenance. The groom’s youthful face was wreathed with brilliance. “I’ll go fetch some water.”
With that, he sprinted away, and Sephy’s throat worked with emotion as she knelt beside the mother who looked up at her with soulful brown eyes, if not tinged with a bit of exhausted pride. She smoothed her hand over the dog’s head as tears sprang to her eyes. “You did good, Lady. They are adorable.”
Lady replied by turning her head and licking the palm of her hand.
The duke, who had been leaning against the stable gate, moved forward and crouched down beside her. She started when he reached out and wiped away one of her tears with the pad of his thumb. She turned her head to face him and the breath left her lungs in a rush to find him so close.
“Have you never seen puppies before?” he asked softly.
She slowly shook her head. “No. I always wanted a dog when I was little, but my mother refused to have them at the brothel. She said it would distract the girls from their more important duties.”
“I see.” He seemed to mull this over. “In that case, once these are weaned, you may have your pick of the litter where it can follow you around wherever you go.”
She gasped. And while she didn’t want to think about how much longer she had to spend with Hunter, she couldn’t help her joyous reply, “Do you mean it?”
His lips twitched. “I do.”
“Oh, thank you!” With that, she threw her arms around him. However, since he was crouched, the surprise of her reaction set him off balance and he collapsed on the hay — with Sephy on top of him.
***
Hunter froze. He tried not to look at Persephone’s breasts, those creamy curves that were on lovely display directly in his line of sight. Nor did he dare think about the fact that every inch of the rest of her soft, supple body was nearly covering him from head to toe. And he most especially didn’t want to imagine both of them naked and wrapped in a torrid embrace, even if his cock was eager to do so, the appendage already hard as a rock and aching to plunge into the feminine heat he’d denied himself for so long.
He gritted his teeth and prayed for th
e will to make it through this terrible error that he’d made while the woman lying on him laughed and chipped away even further at his resolve. “Oh, dear. We seem to be in quite a pickle,” she said mirthfully, her blue eyes dancing with amusement. Then, as if noticing his sudden discomfort, she asked, “I hope I’m not hurting you?”
On the contrary, I’m dying. “Not at all, but I think it’s best if you move.”
The minx dared to wiggle her tempting bottom. “Like this?”
Hunter hissed and temporarily closed his eyes. Unfortunately, that did nothing but heighten his awareness. He attempted his best glare. “Get off, Miss Welton.”
She leaned down to whisper in his ear. “I would love to, Falcourt, but only with your help, of course.”
With that tawdry statement, she rolled off him and left the stables. Hunter clenched his fists at his sides and tried to control his raging body. He was still lying in the middle of the hay next to the new mother and her puppies when Henry returned with the water. With his bucket in hand, he stopped in his tracks when he spied Hunter.
“Your Grace?” he asked cautiously, no doubt wondering as to his sanity.
At the moment, Hunter was thinking the same thing. “I’m fine.” He stood up and brushed the hay off his clothes now that his body wasn’t raging with a noticeable erection. He gestured to the bucket. “Need some help with that?”
Henry opened his mouth, but no sound emerged, so Hunter walked forward and took the bucket from his grasp. “A simple thank you will suffice,” he drawled, finally snapping the lad out of his stupor.
“O...of course, Your Grace.”
They worked together for a time, making sure the mother was settled in and the puppies were nursing like they were supposed to, but when there was no reason to delay any longer, praying that Miss Welton was already in bed, he decided it was time to go. “Don’t stay up too late, Henry.”
With that, he headed for the townhouse and walked inside.
The butler wasn’t at the door to greet him, but since this was merely someplace that he had rented out for his “mistress,” he didn’t employ a full staff and he allowed for the rules to be a bit more relaxed.
Still feeling restless, he decided that a brandy and a treatise on philosophy should be enough to put him to sleep, so he headed for the sitting room next to his bedchamber. However, as he passed by Persephone’s room, he noticed that there was a still a light shining under the door.
Instantly, his cock stirred with renewed interest.
He blew out a heavy breath and told himself to keep moving, but his feet refused to obey the command. She’s your mistress. There is nothing wrong with enjoying each other’s company, his mind reasoned. But then his conscience intruded at nearly the same time. Remember your vow and what happened to Louisa when men refused to control their animalistic urges.
And yet…
He found himself walking toward the door against his better judgment. He knocked lightly on the hard wood, but when there was no reply, he decided it was his duty as her protector to at least check to make sure she was all right.
Thus, he gently eased open the door and peeked inside. What he saw caused a tightness to bloom in his chest. The lamp was still burning on her bedside table, but she was fast asleep in the bed, a paper clutched in her hand.
Without warning, he found himself drawn closer to her side. It didn’t escape his notice that the jade elephant he’d sent for her birthday from India was sitting next to the lamp. A smile touched his lips when he pictured her gazing at it and thinking of him as she fell into slumber each night.
He glanced at her form and was comforted by her easy breathing. Her brilliant red hair was fixed into a braid and laid innocently over her white nightdress. The counterpane just covered her full breasts, which he thought was a dreadful shame, but it was the paper that had slipped from her limp fingers that he reached for.
He picked it up and stilled for the third time that night.
She had fallen asleep reading one of the letters that he’d sent to her. He glanced at the side table and reached out to open the drawer. There he found the rest of them, a neat little pile of correspondence tied together with twine.
As if he’d run a great distance, he began to breathe heavily. He quickly tossed the letter inside and shut the drawer. Afterward, he left her room and walked briskly down the hall until he was safely ensconced inside of his sitting room. Surrounded by a masculine interior, he closed his eyes, but all he could see was Persephone and that damned letter. If that wasn’t enough of a warning to keep his distance, then he didn’t know what was.
The last thing he needed was for her to fall in love with him. He didn’t want to marry and have his son succumb to the sort of lifestyle that Lord Gregory enjoyed, nor did he want a daughter to fall prey to someone of similar desires. He had told Darwood that he might never marry, and he’d meant it.
His mouth set in a grim line; he realized what he must do. In order to save Miss Welton from the hope of him ever returning her affections, he would have to let her go. He’d saved her from a dark fate all those years ago, but it was time to look to the future.
She could no longer be his mistress if he intended to safeguard his heart.
***
A knock at her bedchamber door the next morning had Sephy quickly shoving the letter she’d been reading back into the drawer with the others. While she hadn’t remembered returning it to the pile the night before, she thought it must have been so.
She quickly smoothed her hair and clasped her hands in her lap, making sure she looked appealing before she spoke up for the caller to enter. The door opened and her heart thrilled at the sight of Hunter. Five years of waiting for him to return had proven that her memory of him had faded over time. He was infinitely more handsome than she remembered with his dark hair and intent brown eyes. And now that his skin had a golden bronze tint to it from the desert sun, he was even more breathtaking. Combined with the fact she’d just been pouring over his gentle descriptions of life in India, she realized that this was a man she could easily fall in love with.
Of course, allowing her heart to become engaged would be foolhardy in the extreme, as such girlish fantasies had never been in the cards for her. But perhaps she could finally convince him to treat her as the mistress she yearned to be before he cast her aside.
“Your Grace.” She offered a bright, encouraging smile. “What a pleasant surprise.”
However, instead of moving forward and taking her in his arms, he hovered by the doorframe, his hands set on his hips. The look on his face didn’t bode well either. “We need to talk about our current association.”
Some of her excitement diminished, but she refused to lose hope. “What did you have in mind?”
He glanced away, as if what he had to say was too difficult to impart directly. “I wish to sever my tie as your protector. Of course, I will send you back to your mother’s house with a generous parting stipend and you may keep all of the clothes and various other items you have acquired during your time here—”
Once the initial shock of his statement had subsided, Sephy found her voice. “What about the threat of Lord Gregory you were so concerned about?”
“I will ensure that there are guards posted at the brothel to safeguard you and the other girls at all times. If he arrives, he won’t be staying long.”
She swallowed over the bitter taste of betrayal. It appeared he had it all worked out and that hurt more than she wanted to admit. “What about my maidenhead?” she countered. “Do you not intend to take it?”
He looked pointedly at her. “I told you where I stood regarding sexual relations.”
She stared at him in disbelief and then threw back the covers in exasperation. This was an argument that she couldn’t abide by sitting demurely on the bed and playing the coquette. “You can’t mean to send me back to a whorehouse when I’m still intact! Surely you wouldn’t be that cruel to make me the laughingstock of my mother’s brothel, a
nd all of London for that matter! The Virgin Harlot.” She held her hands up as if adding emphasis to the moniker. “What a headline that would be for the papers.”
He frowned slightly. “I suppose I hadn’t thought of that.”
“I would say not,” she snapped heatedly. “As a duke and the son of a king, however illegitimate, scandal will easily roll off you. I will not be as fortunate.” She paused, her mouth falling open slightly, for something else had also occurred to her. “And what of the puppy you promised me from Lady’s litter?”
He locked eyes with her. “I stand by my word on that.”
“And yet, I told you of my mother’s view on pets.” She shook her head and then reached for the letter she’d been reading so adoringly. “I don’t know who you are, Falcourt,” she sneered. “But you certainly aren’t the same Hunter Bennett I know.”
With that, she ripped the letter in half right in front of him, and then a second, and a third, until she allowed the scraps to fall on the floor at her feet.
“Rest assured, I’ll be gone by the afternoon. But first—” She shoved her arms through her dressing robe and tied it with a flourish. “—I shall have to find someone willing to deflower me since you seem unable to accomplish the task yourself. I only wish you hadn’t made the stipulation that I remain pure during your absence, for I could have been living the existence of a true harlot all this time, since I shall be condemned to that torrid lifestyle anyway.”
She started to brush past him, but he moved in her way. “No.”
“No?” She set her hands on her hips. “I don’t believe you have any say in what I do, Your Grace, for I will not be known as a woman who didn’t live up to her favors as a mistress.”
He didn’t budge, but kept looking at her with that dark stare that was equal parts fury and determination.
“Very well. I shall leave through my sitting room.” She turned and headed in that direction, but she didn’t make it far, for his arm shot out and encircled her wrist. She turned her angry glare on him. “How dare you! Unhand me at once—!”
The Harlot's Hero Page 4
