Sara Bennett

by Lessons in Seduction

  “I don’t…don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  His voice was tight and hard, his hands clenched at his sides. If Lawson had wanted to flush the truth out of him, then he had almost succeeded. Oliver swallowed his fury and looked away from those ice-blue eyes and hoped he had not given himself away.

  “Well then,” Lawson said softly, sounding pleased with himself, “you won’t mind if I take an interest in Miss Greentree, will you, Oliver? Between us we might be able to save Candlewood for those poor little children.”

  Oliver stiffened.

  Those cold eyes stared into his, and Oliver couldn’t think of a thing to reply. Lawson smiled, as if he had won some bet with himself. “Good, good. I thought not.”

  Oliver felt his stomach drop away. Anger and dismay made his hands shake, and he had to slip them into his pockets. It could be that Lawson was just amusing himself, that perhaps he believed that Oliver was in love with Vivianna and he simply wanted to cause him pain. Revenge for the inconvenience Oliver had been causing him for over a year now. But Oliver did not think so. Lawson had another agenda. He was suspicious. He was beginning to doubt. And he saw Vivianna as a way of forcing Oliver out into the open.

  “I’ll be keeping an eye on your niece, Toby. Can’t have the girl corrupted by a rake like Oliver, can we?”

  Toby sniggered.

  Oliver promised himself that one day soon he would bloody Toby’s nose, but not before he had saved Vivianna from Lawson’s clutches.

  If, that is, she would let him.

  Chapter 14

  “I made a mistake.”

  Aphrodite was watching her in her usual aloof manner. “You are a novice, mon chou, you will make mistakes.”

  “No, I…I thought the moment had come to tell Oliver what I wanted from him. He seemed so approachable, so tender, and I believed he would listen to me and grant me my wish.”

  “So you asked him to give you Candlewood?” Aphrodite prompted.

  Vivianna nodded, swallowing tears. “He said I was selling my body for Candlewood, and that he had had enough ‘love for profit.’”

  Aphrodite was silent, and Vivianna wondered if the courtesan was insulted. After all, love for profit was what she herself sold.

  “I don’t want him to despise me,” she went on quietly, her head bowed, and a tear dropped onto the cloth of her skirt. “I realized then that I don’t want him to think I am only pretending to enjoy his company for the sake of Candlewood. I know he is a rake, but he…that is, I know that I can…I can…”

  “Save him?” Aphrodite said woodenly.

  Vivianna looked up in surprise and realized that there was a deep compassion in the courtesan’s dark eyes. Aphrodite pulled a lacy scrap of handkerchief from her sleeve and passed it over, watching as Vivianna tidied her tears.

  “It is your nature,” the older woman said at last. “You cannot help but believe the best of people and want to help them. I should have foreseen it. You see a man like Oliver, a rake whose life revolves around his own pleasure, and you immediately begin to believe he is redeemable.”

  It sounded so very like what Vivianna had been thinking that she was shamed into silence.

  “Perhaps, despite what you think, he wanted you to admit to it, mon chou, so that he could bargain with you. He wanted you to say to him, ‘Yes, I am willing to sell my body for Candlewood,’ and then he would not have to pretend to care to get what he wanted. Some men think they have to play a game, a part.”

  Play a part? Vivianna remembered when they had run into Lord Lawson at the opera, and Oliver had pretended to be a drunken fool. But surely that wasn’t the sort of part Aphrodite was speaking of, it was only one more mystery that Vivianna had yet to solve.

  “You think I should bargain with him, then, honestly and openly?” Vivianna asked, her fist closing over the sodden lace. “You think he never cared for me, only for what he could get from me?”

  Aphrodite made a face. “I am tempted to say that it is so. For the past year, Oliver has certainly given all who know him the impression that he is on his way to hell. And yet, mon chou, I have sometimes wondered if Oliver is being completely honest with us.” Her eyes narrowed. “You are very strongly attracted to him, oui? Your body longs for his?”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “I ache for him.”

  Aphrodite reached out and clasped her hand. “Then you must do something about it. You should take him, Vivianna. Not with your heart, but simply with your body. Enjoy what he has to give you and then walk away from him and forget him. A single night, oui? One night of passion and then, psht! Over. It is the best thing.”

  “I don’t know if I can do that,” Vivianna said, gazing into those black eyes. “I don’t know if I would be able to walk away.”

  Aphrodite’s fingers pressed hard. “Of course you can. Take what you want. You say he is a man who makes you ache; satisfy that ache. Satisfy your curiosity. You will always regret it otherwise.”

  Vivianna nodded, but she wondered if it was that simple. Somehow Oliver had already entangled himself in the threads of her life. And yet the thought of enjoying him for what he could give her—pleasure and expertise—made her quiver deep inside. A night of unbridled passion and then goodbye. Perhaps it would be worth the pain, to have such memories?

  “I want to touch him, too,” she said quietly. “I want to touch that part of him that makes him a man.”

  Aphrodite smiled. “Why not? He will not expect you to be trained like a courtesan, so do not be afraid of being bold. Your innocent fingers on him will make him very excited, mon chou. Stroke his shaft, hold him, kiss him. If you like, you can take him into your mouth. Gently, though. That part of a man may appear powerful and strong, but it is his most vulnerable part.”

  Vivianna felt a little dizzy at the thought of doing such things to Oliver. But Aphrodite was right. If she did not satisfy her curiosity, if she did not have her night of passion, she would always regret it.

  Aphrodite, watching the thoughts flit over Vivianna’s face, wondered if she was doing the right thing. There were those who would be appalled at such advice as she had just given, but Aphrodite had seen much of life. Vivianna needed Oliver Montegomery, and if she wasn’t very much mistaken, Oliver needed Vivianna.

  She was no matchmaker, but she had sensed a connection between the two of them from the first. Maybe, with luck, this might do the trick. If not…She shrugged her shoulders, Vivianna would have a night to remember and no harm done. She might think her heart broken for a little while but Aphrodite knew that hearts did not really break, and they were remarkably good at mending.

  She knew now that Vivianna was made of sterner stuff. She would endure, just as Aphrodite had endured.

  Such is life….

  Oliver,

  It has occurred to me that, being financially stretched as you are, you might be amenable to an offer from me for Candlewood. I am concerned that the Montegomery name is suffering over this business with the Shelter for Poor Orphans and, being an old and dear friend of your brother, I am anxious to help in any way I can. Would you meet me for discussions as to an acceptable figure?

  Yours Most Sincerely,

  Lawson

  Lawson,

  Much as I appreciate your concern and your offer, I am quite content with matters as they are. No need for you to bother further.

  Oliver Montegomery

  The following day Vivianna went to Candlewood. The Beatty sisters questioned her thoroughly on her progress with Oliver, and it broke her heart to have to tell them that she feared they had lost the battle.

  “He is set in his determination to have Candlewood demolished. I wish I could give you hope, but I think…” She could hardly bear to meet their stricken eyes. “I think it best if you go ahead and accept Lord Montegomery’s offer of the other property.”

  “Oh no!” Miss Susan cried.

  “The Bethnal Green house will have to do, until something better comes along.” Miss Gret
a, more practical, drew a sustaining breath. “I admit I have looked over it.”

  “Greta!”

  Greta took her sister’s hands and squeezed them gently. “I know, I should not have gone without you, but I thought, if worse came to worst, we would at least know what to expect.”

  Vivianna was in agreement. “In hindsight, you were wise. What is it like?”

  “I have to say that I do not think, by our standards, that it is the proper place to lodge children. The building is damp and some of the floors are rotten. The roof leaks.”

  “Poor little souls.” A tear streaked down Miss Susan’s cheek.

  Vivianna, herself close to tears, glanced up at that moment and saw one of the “poor little souls” outside the window, aiming a slingshot at a bird in a tree. It was Eddie, and he released his shot, sending the bird into angry flight. Her sadness lightened, and she actually found herself smiling. These children were resilient, they had had to be. Maybe the Bethnal Green house was far from ideal, but for the time it would have to do, at least until they were able to find somewhere more suitable to carry on their dream.

  Back in Queen’s Square, she had barely stepped from the coach when the man who had been monopolizing her thoughts stepped in front of her, blocking her path to the front door.

  Vivianna started and said, “What are you doing here?” before she could think to affect indifference. Besides, she wasn’t indifferent, she was angry. Her body began to tingle and melt, as if it were greeting him in its own passionate language, and that infuriated her even more.

  “I want to speak with you, Vivianna. I left my card, but you were out.”

  “Speak with me?” Her eyes narrowed. “I have been at Candlewood. Have you been lurking out here waiting for me to return?”

  “Lurking?” He gave an angry laugh.

  “What is so urgent that it could not have waited until tomorrow?”

  There was something strange about him, something edgy and anxious.

  “I want to speak with you about Lawson,” he said bluntly, not bothering to answer her question.

  “Lord Lawson?” Vivianna raised her eyebrows. She had forgotten all about Lord Lawson.

  He glared at her. “He’s already written to me asking to purchase Candlewood on behalf of the shelter. I have refused. Was that your doing?”

  Vivianna could not hide her shock. “No, it wasn’t my doing. I had no idea…. But I must say it was very kind and generous of him. Why did you refuse? Isn’t money the same, whoever it comes from? Surely it would not matter to you who paid it as long as you could spend it on…what was the term, now? ‘Whores, brandy, and gaming.’ Wasn’t that what you told me the first time I met you?”

  Oliver frowned, clearly not liking to be reminded. “I lied,” he said bluntly. “I don’t want Lawson’s money.”

  “Well, I am disappointed. Lord Lawson promises to be very useful to us, and I mean to beg his continued support. I am very sorry for your brother and any guilt you might feel, if that is the real reason you want Candlewood turned to dust—and I have to say I am beginning to doubt that is the real reason, Oliver. But that is beside the point. I cannot allow you to ruin the lives of the children for—”

  “Damnation, Vivianna, will you be quiet? Do you never listen? I have come to warn you that Lawson isn’t to be trusted. You think he wants to help you? He doesn’t want to help you; he wants to hurt me. He is using you because he thinks he can get at me.”

  Vivianna stared at him. It made no sense to her, and yet he looked sincere. But then, Oliver was very good at looking anything he wanted to. “You are very arrogant,” she said at last. “The world doesn’t revolve around you, Oliver—”

  She broke off as he stepped closer, and now he was almost touching her. The warmth of his body, the scent of sandalwood from his clothing, in fact everything about him weakened her. In another moment she would put her arms around him and kiss him. It didn’t matter what he might or might not have done; it did not matter whether or not he was an unreformable rake.

  That was what made Oliver so dangerous to her.

  “Are you wearing drawers?”

  She blinked, wondering if she had heard him right. “Oliver!”

  He shook his head, and rubbed his eyes as though he, too, were having difficulty concentrating. “I’m sorry.”

  Vivianna knew she needed time alone, to think. To plan her next move. To gather her scattered thoughts.

  “Will you let me talk to you?” Oliver added quietly, urging her to say yes. “Vivianna, will you please ask me inside your aunt’s house so that I can speak to you in private?”

  She stepped backward. “I don’t think so. You are clearly not in your right mind.”

  He rolled his eyes to the heavens. “If I am insane then you are the cause.”

  “I must go, my lord, excuse me.”

  Oliver glared at her a moment more, and then turned his back and walked away. Vivianna watched him disappear around the corner. Why was Oliver so determined to keep her from Lord Lawson? It was most bizarre, and yet she sensed from Oliver’s demeanor that something very serious was happening. Perhaps she should have spoken to him further.

  But Vivianna was still trying to decide whether or not to take Aphrodite’s advice, to give herself one night with the rake and then walk away. Being in his company confused her. Such decisions must be made out of his influence.

  Vivianna sighed. “I wish Mama were here.”

  And yet, she thought at the same time, better that she was not. Vivianna had too many secrets to keep from her, and it was never easy keeping secrets from Lady Greentree.

  Chapter 15

  Sounds outside. Guests arriving. Servants calling, doors banging, and familiar voices speaking in excited tones. Beloved voices.

  “Mama!”

  Half awake, Vivianna was out of her bed and barefoot on the stairs, just as Lady Greentree and Marietta entered the house and looked up. Lady Greentree, her face pale and wan from the long journey, smiled with sheer relief.

  “My dearest girl!”

  Vivianna was down the final stairs in an instant and into her mother’s arms. She had not realized, when she came to London, just how much she would miss Lady Greentree. That calm, practical woman who was always there to advise her, to discuss her problems with, or to simply offer loving support.

  She needed all three of those comforts now.

  “Vivianna, it’s me! I am here!” Marietta, her blond curls bouncing, claimed a hug from her sister, although she could hardly keep still at the same time. “We have left Francesca home,” she announced triumphantly, “because she is too young to come.”

  “She did not want to,” Lady Greentree admitted, wiping her eyes. “Not without her dog.”

  “And we could not have that smelly lurcher in the coach with us,” Marietta said, wrinkling her nose.

  “Amy!” Now it was Helen’s turn to come running and throw her arms around her sister. They hugged and wept, while all about them an alarming amount of luggage continued to be brought in. When eventually order was restored and the newcomers had taken off their cloaks and bonnets, they all partook of breakfast in the breakfast room.

  Vivianna had, by this time, washed and dressed and was feeling much more herself. On her way down the stairs for the second time, she had met Mr. Jardine, Lady Greentree’s trusted secretary and steward, coming up. A man of medium height with gray hair and twinkling blue eyes, he gave Vivianna a warm smile of welcome.

  “I am glad to see you safe and well, Miss Vivianna.”

  “And I, you, Mr. Jardine. We had no warning that you would all be coming to London.”

  “It was rather sudden. Lady Greentree decided it was time she paid her sister a visit, and we set out the next day.”

  “To pay Aunt Helen a visit or to check up on me?” Vivianna said drolly. “Well, I do not mind. I am so very glad to see you all.”

  Above them, at the top of the stairs, Lil gave a little cry of excitement and burst
out, “Mr. Jardine, sir! I didn’t know you was coming to London. Oh, I am that pleased to see you!”

  Vivianna laughed at the maid’s enthusiasm, and Lil blushed a fiery red. Mr. Jardine took the remaining stairs, and captured one of Lil’s hands, as if she were a lady, and gave it a little pat. “Dear Lil, it is I who am pleased to see you, as always. Tell me, have you seen all the sights of London yet? Or are there still some I can show you?”

  “I’ve seen the Tower and the zoo, sir,” Lil said shyly.

  “Well, that’s a start.”

  Mr. Jardine was somewhere over forty, and still handsome, his skin browned from a life lived mostly in the West Indies. He had been an adventurer when he was young, and had made and lost a fortune, so it was said, although he spoke little of the matter himself. Now he was gazing down at Lil, a little smile on his lips—and Vivianna knew that he was very fond of her, but as a father might be fond of his daughter. He had been there when Vivianna brought Lil to Greentree Manor, and he felt a paternal responsibility toward her.

  “Jacob is here, Lil. He drove the coach.”

  “Oh.” Lil looked uncertain, and then she pursed her lips. “I hope he didn’t come to see me. You know I will not marry him, Mr. Jardine. I am looking higher than a coachman.”

  Lil was twenty-five, a girl who had once lived on the streets and made her living from selling her body to men. She had regained her self-respect, and was fiercely loyal to the Greentree family, particularly Vivianna. Mr. Jardine had made it his task to look out for the girl, as he did all the Greentree servants, and he thought Jacob would make her a good husband. But Lil did not see it that way.