“How do you know unless you try?”
“I did once—that was enough. And, Jesus, there are too many women in the world.”
His brother shrugged. “Maybe it won’t be a concern. You said Miss Ionides is as uninterested in permanence as you.”
“Don’t remind me,” Sam scoffed.
“Oh, ho!” Marcus grinned. “A taste of your own medicine.”
“I hope you’re amused,” Sam grumbled.
“Entertained, certainly. I didn’t think I’d ever see the day.”
“Well, you have, and I hope you’re happy, because I’m hellishly cranky and bloody close to whisking Alex away, convention be damned.”
“It shouldn’t be long now,” his brother said kindly. “The ladies generally leave soon after lunch.”
But not everyone did. Hedy refused to depart.
Chapter 17
I’m not driving Hedy home,” Sam said furiously. “I’ll strangle her instead. Oliver, for one, will thank me. He can’t stand her silly prattle.”
“I’ll go with you,” his brother offered. “Together, we’ll manage.”
“What the hell’s wrong with her?” Sam fumed. “I’m warning you. Keep her away from me. I can’t guarantee I won’t do her violence, the damned bitch. How long have we been waiting for her to leave?”
The two men had been standing outside the drawing room for the past hour, glancing from time to time through the partly opened door. And they’d just heard Hedy mention she’d sent her carriage home. “Poor old William was so tired, I just didn’t have the heart to keep him waiting,” she said with poignant drama. “I thought I might ride home with Sam.”
“Or if Sam isn’t leaving just yet, we’ll send you home in our carriage.” Evelina forced a smile, her own temper frayed after several hours of Hedy’s irritating company. Her pregnancy made her tired, and she’d been hoping to go upstairs for a nap.
Alex had done her best to be courteous, but Hedy was bent on being malicious. Alex and Evelina exchanged long-suffering glances from time to time, neither able to bring about Hedy’s departure.
Marcus, hearing the fatigue in his wife’s voice, decided to intervene. Signaling his brother to stay behind, he walked into the drawing room. “Did I hear you say you needed the carriage brought around?”
“If you would, darling.” Evelina’s relief was apparent. “Hedy requires a ride home.”
“Don’t bother. I’ll go with Sam,” Hedy declared.
“He’s still with the boys,” Marcus lied.
Hedy folded her hands neatly in her lap. “I don’t mind waiting.”
Her emotions very near the surface in these early weeks of her pregnancy, tears sprang to Evelina’s eyes. Marcus jumped forward to console her, but just then the drawing room door banged open and Sam stalked into the room. “My carriage is outside and I’m in a damned hurry. Come with me, Marcus, after you see Evelina upstairs. McClary wants to meet with us. Get your bonnet, Hedy.” He paused for a second, and when he spoke, the anger had left his voice, but it was tightly curbed. “We’ll drive you as well, Miss Ionides.”
Hedy had leaped to her feet. “Thank you so much, Sam,” she said, offering him a dazzling smile. “I knew I could count on you.”
A tick appeared over Sam’s cheekbone. “We’re driving right by your house. It’s not a problem to drop you off.”
Alex’s nerves were on edge, and she almost begged off. But she wasn’t so magnanimous as to give Hedy a clear field. Or perhaps she took pity on Sam, who appeared to be controlling his temper with difficulty.
While Marcus helped Evelina upstairs, Sam and the ladies walked outside to the waiting carriage. It was an awkward journey with Hedy brushing against Sam at every possible opportunity. If Sam hadn’t looked so annoyed, Alex would have been inclined to giggle. One certainly couldn’t accuse Hedy of shyness. Nor Sam of an inability to resist unwanted advances.
He was polite but always just out of reach. When they stood before the open carriage door, Sam said with a gruff bluntness, “You ladies sit together,” and nodded to one of his grooms. The young man immediately stepped forward and offered his hand to Hedy. She had no choice short of making a scene, but her mouth was set as she stepped into the carriage. He winked at Alex. “I’ll wait for Marcus outside.”
“Coward,” she murmured.
He grinned. “Pure survival.”
Marcus soon appeared, and the brothers entered the carriage.
By this time it was becoming apparent even to Hedy where Sam Lennox’s interest lay. Thoroughly vexed at the gross injustice of his preferences, she spent the whole of the drive into the City offering denigrating comments on women who chose to lead independent lives. “When it’s perfectly well known,” she declared, “that a woman’s place is in the home and her God-given function that of a wife and mother.” Glancing at Alex, she wrinkled her nose. “Of course,” she said uncharitably, “not all women are able to have children….”
“For God’s sake, Hedy.” Disgust vibrated in Sam’s gruff voice. “What the hell do you know about anything?”
“I know, for instance,” she said with soft venom, “your dear friend, Lady Denfield, is with child.” She gazed at him, a look of triumph on her face. “Had you heard?”
Everyone knew Clara Bowdoin had several lovers. And he was always extremely cautious, so he knew the child wasn’t his. But he couldn’t reply, and Hedy knew it. “I’m sure Clara is pleased,” he remarked politely.
“Are you?”
“Hedy, watch your step,” Marcus warned, the fury in his brother’s eyes barely suppressed. “Clara wouldn’t appreciate your comments.”
She bristled at his command. “It’s common enough knowledge,” she replied tartly. “Everyone isn’t like you and Evelina, Marcus.”
“Nor are they like you. And just a warning on that point, Hedy. If you upset Evelina again, I’ll see that you’re barred from my house. My wife’s not required to listen to your nonsense.” Marcus wasn’t quicktempered by nature, but his family was sacrosanct.
“My goodness, Marcus, aren’t you the heroic figure!”
“One more word from you, Hedy, and I’ll set you down in the street,” Sam growled.
She opened her mouth but thought better of it when she saw the anger in Sam’s eyes.
The remainder of the drive passed in silence.
Hedy was helped from the carriage by one of Sam’s grooms, and when the door finally closed on her, Sam exhaled a long, low sigh.
“Trying not to strangle her, were you?” his brother remarked.
“It was a damned close thing. If anyone ever is so unlucky as to marry her, she won’t last above a month.”
“Not our problem.”
“No, thank God. And I apologize, Alex, for her rudeness to you.”
Alex smiled. “You’re hours too late. I have been maligned for most of the afternoon. And educated as to the role of a woman with a great deal of arrogance and very little understanding.”
“Luckily, she’s out of our lives,” Sam noted, moving over to sit beside Alex. “We’ll give you a ride home, Marcus.” He took Alex’s hand in his and gently squeezed it. “Then we’re going to find something better to do than think of Hedy.”
But when Marcus left them and Sam and Alex were alone once again, Alex quietly said, “Tell me about Lady Denfield’s child.”
Sam half raised his hand in a dismissive gesture. “Hedy said that only to irritate me, antagonize you, and in general make mischief. Ignore her.”
“Is the child yours?”
“No.”
“Naturally, you’d say that.”
Sam briefly pursed his mouth, debating how much he could disclose without slandering Clara. “I wasn’t the only one, if that helps.”
“So the child could be yours.”
He shook his head. “I never take chances.”
“You can be so certain.”
He shifted uncomfortably, lifted his shoulder in the merest of
shrugs. “I’m certain. Beyond that, I can’t with courtesy say more.”
It wasn’t as though she was unaware of his reputation for sleeping with ladies of every description, but Hedy’s comment forced her to face the reality of that conduct.
“At least she’s not peeking in the windows,” he offered.
She smiled. “So I shouldn’t take issue with your other lovers.”
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
“Because we’re going to act like adults.”
“After Hedy, it would be a great relief to at least try.”
“You may remind me of Harry whenever I become difficult.”
“You may not remind me of Clara,” he said with a smile. “By the way, are you really going to see that young boy on Friday?”
“I don’t have much choice.”
“You always have choices,” he said, struck by his displeasure at her seeing Harry again.
“Not in this case. He won’t paint unless I see him occasionally.”
“And you’re his agent?”
“His friend. He’s very good and, unfortunately, not disciplined.”
“I see.”
“That’s not an adult scowl. And I’m sorry, but I’ve known you only a day. It would hardly be reasonable for me to discard my friends because of you.”
“Friends?”
“Aren’t your lovers friends?”
How to answer with any courtesy.
“Never mind, Ranelagh.”
“I’m sorry.” He didn’t know what else to say.
“At least you’re honest. So where are we going to make love tonight? Your place or mine?” she queried lightly.
“Since your parents know where you live—”
“And where you live, including the Strand.”
“That leaves only my bachelor apartment in the Adelphi.”
Lounging in his seat, Sam lightly brushed Alex’s cheek with the back of his hand. “I haven’t been this happy in ages.”
She resisted the impulse to tell him she’d never been so happy either and said instead, simply, “I’m happy too.”
“Claude will be thrilled you’re back. I’ll send for him.”
“Don’t bother. Perhaps tonight we can throw caution to the wind and I’ll cook for you. Provided there are no carriages at my curb, I’d like to stop and gather a change of clothes.”
“Fair enough. And if my home is equally quiet, I’ll pick up my mail. I’m expecting some plans from a course near Aberdeen. They have the same water hazards we do.”
“I think I’ll stay in the carriage this time.”
He smiled. “I don’t blame you.”
Chapter 18
As it turned out, however, Loucas was in wait for Alex in Park Lane. Though she stayed in the carriage, he found her.
“Beggin’ your pardon, Miss Alex,” he said through the half-open door of the carriage. Sam’s hand was on the latch, his movement to descend arrested. “Tina’s havin’ her baby early and your ma wants you home.”
“Oh, dear.” She glanced at Sam. “My sister-in-law’s not due until next month.” Turning back to Loucas, she asked, “When did her labor start?”
“This mornin’. We couldn’t find you, so here I am, beggin’ your pardon, my lord,” he said with an irony that made it plain he wasn’t apologizing at all.
“I really have to go.” Alex began to rise.
“I’ll take you.”
“No, please, that wouldn’t be wise.”
“The carriage is just around the corner, miss.”
“I’m so sorry I have to leave,” Alex apologized. “But Tina’s last delivery was complicated and—”
“I understand.” Pushing the door open, Sam stepped to the ground and then helped Alex descend. After escorting her to her carriage, he stood at the door. “Let me know if I can help in any way.”
“Thank you,” she said, distracted.
He shut the door and stepped back from the carriage. The driver’s whip cracked.
As he watched her drive away, he felt a moment of anguish for Alex’s distress, for her sister-in-law’s travail … for his own profound sense of loss.
The moment the viscount stepped over his threshold, any further consideration of loss was eliminated by the sharp crack of his barrister’s knuckles.
“Farris. What a surprise.”
“It’s a matter of some urgency, my lord,” the elderly man declared, as though his presence in Sam’s entrance hall weren’t warning enough of disaster.
“Have you been waiting long?”
“Most of the day, sir.”
At least he was aware now of the degree of misfortune. Farris didn’t call on his clients as a rule. His offices in Piccadilly were sumptuous, centrally located, and staffed with enough underlings to run an extensive operation. “Follow me,” Sam offered, moving down the corridor. “Coffee, Owens.” He glanced at his butler. “In my study.”
A few minutes later, Farris was seated, their coffee had been served, and Sam was lounging against the corner of his desk, too restless to sit. “Tell me everything,” Sam charged. “You needn’t spare me any details. I’m quite capable of withstanding shock.”
“It’s your—er—ex-mistress, my lord.”
Which one? he thought, but said merely, “Ah.”
“She intends to sell her story to the newspapers, sir.”
“What story?”
“Of how you lured her from her home in Cairo, sir, with a promise of marriage and then”—the barrister flushed beet red—“mistreated her in a variety of ways.” He wiped his forehead nervously. “She was quite specific, my lord.”
“Farida,” Sam whispered, his body gone rigid. “Bloody bitch.” His gaze refocused on his barrister and he stood. “I’ll talk to her and straighten this all out. There was no marriage proposal, and the question of luring is up to debate on several levels. She’s been well compensated for her time. Did she tell you I bought her a house and paid off all her gambling debts? Along with those of her damned brother?”
“She did, my lord, but, of course, her interpretation of those gifts is—er—different perhaps from yours.”
Sam glared at the elderly man in his morning suit. “Do you believe her?”
“It’s not a question, sir, of whether I believe her or not,” he answered as a barrister would. “It’s a question of whether her story reaches the papers.”
Sam drew in a deep breath because he knew what was coming next. “And what would you suggest I do?”
“I would suggest, sir, as a prudent measure, we offer her some settlement.”
“Again? She already cost me more than she was worth.”
Farris coughed discreetly. “That would be for you to say, of course, but should her account be published, the public would be treated to only her point of view.”
“I want her silenced,” Sam growled. At Farris’s look of alarm, he quickly amended his statement. “Not literally, just in terms of her newsmongering. Good God, Farris, if I paid off every ex-mistress who threatened to spread gossip about me …” He shrugged.
“Yes, my lord. I understand.”
“And now I’ve put you in a damned box, I suppose,” Sam noted gruffly.
“One needs a certain degree of negotiating power, sir. She has Collins for her barrister.”
Sam swore softly. Collins was celebrated for his notorious divorces. “Very well, what do you think would buy her silence? Be frank.”
“Five thousand pounds.”6
Sam’s brows rose marginally. “For that kind of money, I want to be assured she’s back in Egypt.”
“It could be a nonnegotiable stipulation.”
“It would have to be,” the viscount said brusquely. “Tell them, otherwise they can publish and be damned.”
“Yes, sir. I will convey your feelings to them most exactingly.”
“She receives no money until she reaches Egypt. If they agree, I want a detective on her trail and a report sent back to
me that she has landed on her native soil.” He blew out an explosive breath. “Do you know how much this adventuress has cost me?”
It wasn’t a question he wished answered, Farris understood. “I’ll speak to Collins personally, sir.”
“Immediately.”
“Of course.”
Sam suddenly smiled. “Forgive my outrage, Farris. I know how hypocritical this must seem to you. But the woman’s been very well treated.”
“I know, sir. One of our agents has seen her house … and her jewelry.”
Sam laughed. “Maybe I should think about settling down, eh, Farris? It would be considerably cheaper.”
“Hardly a reason to marry, my lord.” The elderly man had seen the misery of Sam’s first marriage, and he genuinely liked his young client.
“You’re right, Farris, as usual.” His barrister had covered up with discretion all the lurid details of Penelope’s death. “I defer to your advice on this matter as well. But keep me informed.”
Farris rose from his chair. “I’m sorry to have delivered such odious news.”
“Never mind,” Sam replied kindly, reaching out to shake the man’s hand. “It was my doing entirely.”
“She’s exceedingly greedy, my lord. Even Collins is surprised, I think.”
“Really.” Sam grinned. “Then I hope Collins gets his money in advance. Otherwise, he’s not likely to see it.”
“I’ll tell him, sir.”
“Good luck, Farris.” Sam pursed his mouth. “Perhaps I should consider celibacy for a time.”
His barrister’s eyes widened for the briefest instant. “Indeed,” he affirmed, clearly at a loss for words.
Minutes after Farris left, Owens entered the study with a doleful expression on his face. Sam said, “Bring me a brandy before you speak.”
Although Owens was tall and far from frail, he had the ability to melt into the background. For those few minutes in which Owens carried out his master’s wishes, Sam was able to forget Farris’s visit and dwell for brief moments on the pleasure he’d experienced with the beautiful Alex Ionides.
He was smiling faintly when Owens handed him his brandy. Immediately drinking it down, he handed the glass back to his butler. “Now that I’m fortified, tell me what has caused your woebegone look.”
Seduction in Mind Page 14
