“Romance is for those who read fairy-tales and believe in happily-ever-after’s.”
“You’re too young to be so cynical.”
“And you’re too handsome to be so ill-tempered, but then things are not always what they should be.”
The vaguest hint of a smile pulled his mouth to one side. “You think I am handsome?”
“Passably attractive,” she amended.
“If I agree to this foolishness, I would have two conditions. The first is that when I say it is over, it’s over. I do not want you crying on my shoulder or knocking on my door in the middle of the night. When the affair has run its course I will leave, and we will never see each other again.”
“And if you come knocking on my door in the middle of the night?” She meant the question in jest, but there was no amusement in Hugh’s voice when he replied.
“I won’t. I can promise you that.”
Temperance frowned. “And your second condition?”
“That you remain faithful.” With a squeak of bedsprings he stood up. “I have no use for an adulterous mistress.”
Her frown deepened. “Why would you presume I–”
“And I have one more condition,” he said, holding up his hand.
“You said there were only two,” she pointed out.
“I forgot who I was dealing with,” he said with a wry twist of his mouth. “There will be no questions, from either of us. I do not need to know anything about you other than what I already do, and you damned well do not need to know anything about me.”
“Fine.” At that point, her patience was stretched so thin she would have agreed to nearly anything. “Would you care for me to sign my name in blood, or will a shaking of hands suffice?”
For a moment it almost looked as though Hugh was going to smile. Not a small, hidden smile that faded as quickly as it appeared but a true, genuine grin. “I think in this case a kiss would be adequate.”
“A kiss it is, then.” Crossing to him, she cupped his face between her hands and rose up on her toes before placing the chastest of kisses upon his mouth. “I should return home before I am missed.” Stepping back, she briskly slid her dress into place and retrieved her spencer jacket from the back of the chair. There was little to be done to rescue her tousled hair save tucking it back beneath her hat, which she did in three quick motions.
Hugh watched her without expression, and it wasn’t until she draped her cloak over her shoulders and drew the hood up to conceal her face that he finally spoke. “Come here tomorrow night after the sun has set.”
“Walk to town in the dark?” Her nose wrinkled at the thought, but she supposed there was little else she could do without attracting attention. It was not as though she could ask Hugh to send a carriage. Just imagining Lady Townsend’s expression was enough to curl the corners of her mouth. Oh, this coach? Do not worry, it’s only here to take me into the village. I am meeting my lover, you see, and I did not want to walk in the dark.
“Do you have a better idea?” Moving past her, he opened the door. “I will meet you at the bend in the road.” A dark shadow flickered across his countenance. “Nothing will happen to you, Miss Swan.”
“What could possibly happen to me in a town as quiet as this one?” she scoffed. Stepping into the hall, she glanced back over her shoulder. “And do feel free to call me Temperance. I believe we are past such formalities, don’t you?” With a wink and an air blown kiss she set off down the hall, skirts swishing merrily about her ankles.
As Hugh watched Temperance leave, he could not help but wonder if he was making a mistake that could ultimately cost her more than her reputation.
An affair… Why the devil had he agreed to something to so foolhardy and impulsive?
Because you thought with your cock instead of your head, his brain reminded him.
“Stupid,” he muttered as he closed the door and leaned back against it. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.” A violent kick sent his sack of belongings sailing cross the room. It hit the opposite wall and fell to the floor, spilling its contents in a messy disarray of shirts and socks and wrinkled trousers.
He never should have kissed her. Never should have tasted the sweet honey of her lips. Never should have watched her eyes glaze over as he brought her ruthlessly to orgasm. Never should have cradled her against his chest as she spiraled back down.
If he hadn’t done those things – if he had remained cold and detached, as he should have – then he might have been able to hold firm to his resolve to leave her completely and utterly alone. His future was no more certain now than it had been the night of the festival. He still did not know when Frederick would come for him, he only knew that he would, and in doing so would destroy everything standing between him and his thirst for vengeance.
The Brownstone’s were a powerful family capable of powerful things.
Something he knew better than anyone.
The right thing to do, the noble thing to do, would be to walk out the door and keep walking until the risk of him ever seeing Temperance Swan again vanished like a handful of dust blown into the wind. He was a danger to her in more ways than one. She may have been a thorn in his side, but she was a thorn who deserved more than a dirty affair in a flea-ridden inn…or worse.
Then again, perhaps she knew precisely what she was getting herself into. He may not have known much about Temperance aside from her name and the intoxicating taste of her lips, but he did know she was no shy blushing virgin. Virgins did not kiss like she had kissed. And they damn well did not proposition themselves.
Deep lines appeared on either side of Hugh’s mouth as his face tightened into a scowl. Stomping to the corner of the room, he began to pick up his discarded clothing and throw it in a pile on top of the unmade bed.
Who knew how many men Temperance had lured into her bed before him? He wouldn’t insult himself by guessing at a number, but something told him it was more than he cared to imagine. The only question he had was why. Why would an attractive, wealthy young woman with good breeding throw herself into affair after affair? Was it boredom? A streak of ill-placed rebellion? Or something darker?
Does the reason really matter? He asked himself. For better or for worse, what was done was done. Temperance had made her bed of her own volition. He hadn’t forced her. Hell, if anything, she had forced him. Not that it had taken much. The truth was he was only a man…a red-blooded mean with red-blooded needs. Needs that had not been sated in far too long.
He had visited a brothel when he’d first arrived in London, but the experience had left a bitter taste in his mouth. He did not need another woman who faked her desire, but rather a woman who craved his touch with every breath that trembled from her lips.
As Temperance had done.
She had burned in his arms, her body emitting so much heat he’d feared they would both ignite and dissolve into a pile of ash. There had been nothing feigned about her reaction to his hands on her body. If her deep moans and wispy sighs were any indication she had loved every moment of their encounter, and he drew deep satisfaction from the knowledge that he’d made her knees wobble.
Maybe an affair with a warm, willing woman wouldn’t be the death curse he had feared. Maybe – just maybe – it was exactly what he needed to set his head straight on his shoulders. He needed something to stir him back to life. Something to drag him up from the doldrums he’d been mired in long before Aileen’s lifeless, glassy stare began to haunt his dreams.
If Temperance kept true to her word and adhered to the conditions he’d set forth, what would be the harm? Mood shifting, Hugh scratched his fingers across his bristly chin as he returned to the window. The chances of Frederick or one of his cronies finding him here, in this little hamlet of village tucked far away from the prying eyes of London, were so slim as to be nearly non-existent. No one knew his whereabouts – or his real name, for that matter – except for Temperance. There was no way to follow his haphazard path through the countryside without a great
deal of strife, frustration, and most importantly time.
He had made certain of it.
Eventually he would need to move on. He did not have the coin to sustain himself without a solid wage, and there was little work to be had in such a small town. But he had enough to pay for his room and board until the end of the month and if he sold a few more of the worthless items he’d picked up along his travels then he would manage to keep his belly sated as well.
How the mighty have fallen, he thought with a rueful twist of his mouth as he watched two highborn ladies cross the street below him, their faces shaded beneath silk parasols. Having been born into a middle-class family, Hugh knew what it felt like to want what you could not have. It was one of the reasons he’d gone after Aileen with such vigor. Because he hadn’t wanted to have that feeling in the pit of his gut anymore, and he had been dazzled as much by her beauty as the world she came from. A world filled with decadent wealth and family estates and so many servants it spun his head to keep track of them all.
For a time that world had been his own before he learned there was one thing no amount of money could buy: happiness.
By then it had been too late. The Brownstone’s had their claws in him and they were not about to let him go, especially if doing so would mean a scandal. Were he a stronger man he would have said to hell with them all and walked out of the fancy house his wife’s dowry had supplied them with, but there was a part of him that still loved her. A weak, foolish, futile part that wanted to honor the vows they’d made before God. A part that believed one day he and Aileen would rediscover the passion that had drawn them to one another in the first place. A part that had ultimately led him here, to this quiet village. To this dirty, dingy room.
And to Temperance.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Why are you so distracted tonight?” Regarding her sister-in-law with a raised brow, Annabel slowly stirred her soup while she waited for an answer.
At the other end of the dining room table Lady Townsend was in a heated discussion with Delilah over why Mr. Humphrey should not have his own seat. Lord Townsend sat at the opposite end of his wife, his nose buried – as it often was – in the pages of a newspaper. The chairs which should have been occupied by Nathaniel and Lynette were conspicuously empty, which most likely explained the added note of strained tension in the air. Everyone – including Mr. Humphry, who was howling a mournful symphony outside the door – seemed to be on edge, but no one more so than Temperance.
“I am not distracted,” she said automatically, even though that was precisely what she was. By her estimation the sun would set in less than an hour, which gave her very little time to figure out a way to slip away unnoticed. Exhaling loudly, she cut off a large slice of lamb and stuffed the entire thing into her mouth. At least if she was chewing Annabel couldn’t expect her to answer any more questions and she would have some blessed time to think.
Unfortunately, she had not counted on Annabel’s tenacity.
“You have been acting strangely ever since I returned from my rehearsal practice at Lady Greer’s.” After a furtive glance towards the end of the table, she lowered her voice to a whisper. “Is it because of Lynette and my brother?”
“Yes.” Relieved to be able to use their disappearance as an excuse, Temperance dabbed at her mouth with a napkin and managed a strained smile. She was worried about her sister, by but now she knew Nathaniel must have caught up with her which meant she was in good hands. The newlyweds certainly had their share of differences, but they would never harm one another. Of that Temperance was absolutely certain.
What she wasn’t certain about was her affair with Hugh. Or rather her pre-affair, given that they had not yet actually begun. In the heat of the moment, when her body had still been quivering from the after-shocks of Hugh’s touch, it had all seemed like such a wonderful idea. But now that she’d had time to sleep on it, her head was filled with doubts.
Was she truly willing to risk her reputation and the reputation of her family on something so selfish? She may have been impulsive, but she wasn’t stupid. And suddenly sneaking off to meet a man she knew next to nothing about seemed like a very, very stupid plan.
“They will be fine,” said Annabel. “I am sure they will be returning in no time at all.”
“Who will be fine?” Temperance asked distractedly.
“Ah ha! I knew it.” Mouth stretching in a triumphant grin, Annabel slapped her fork down on the table with enough force to earn a glower from her mother.
“Table manners, my dear.” Lady Townsend frowned. “Table manners.”
“Sorry,” she said with feigned meekness. “It was an accident.”
“What was that?” Lord Townsend’s newspaper crinkled as he peered around the edge of it. Bullishly figured with broad shoulders and a weathered countenance, the Earl of Blackbourne was a quiet, conservative man who minded his own business more often than not. Temperance’s interactions with him since arriving at Dunhill had been limited, but the few times their paths had crossed in the hall or out in the gardens he had always been pleasant towards her.
“Nothing darling.” Smiling patiently at her husband, Lady Townsend gestured for him to resume reading his paper. With an absent glance around the table he did just that, leaving Annabel free to persist with her grand inquisition.
“I knew your odd behavior did not have anything to do with Lynette or Nathaniel. What is going on?” Her expression eager, she leaned forward onto her elbows and leaned across the table. “You can tell me and I shall keep whatever it is a secret. I swear.”
“Annabel…” Lady Townsend said in a warning tone.
“Sorry!” Plucking her elbows off the table, Annabel glanced down at her empty plate and then up at her mother. “Temperance and I have finished with everything. May we please be excused?”
“I suppose,” Lady Townsend sighed. “Before you prepare for bed, however, I would like you to practice for the recital. It is only two weeks away, you know.”
Annabel grimaced. “How could I possibly forget?” Pushing her chair back, she stood up and promptly marched around the long table to grab Temperance’s arm. “You can turn the sheet music for me.”
“But I have not finished my lamb,” Temperance protested.
Annabel gave a ruthless tug, all but dragging Temperance off her chair. “You shouldn’t be eating lamb anyways. Do you know what a lamb is? A baby sheep!” she cried before Temperance could answer. “They are so sweet and fluffy and innocent. The poor things should be frolicking out in a field, not sitting on a plate.”
“Then perhaps they should not be so tasty,” Temperance muttered under her breath as she allowed Annabel to pull her to her feet and propel her out of the dining room.
In addition to her tone deafness, Nathaniel’s sister was also renowned for her charitable causes. They usually did not amount to very much as she was unable to sway public opinion in her favor (young ladies in the ton were notoriously hesitant to voice any opinion that could possibly be regarded as controversial) but that did not stop her from trying to gain her family’s support.
In the past, one of her most fervent and passionate undertakings had been vegetarianism. For six months she had refused to eat meat. Not even quail or goose. From what Temperance had been able to glean from snippets of conversation Lady Townsend had been at her wits end and threatening to let her only daughter starve – an idle threat she never would have gone through with – before Annabel had abruptly took up another cause: servant equality.
Since the Swan sisters had arrived at Dunhill she’d insisted they learn every single servant’s name and use their names when requesting a certain task. It was something neither Temperance nor Lynette had issue with, but poor Delilah was so overwhelmed by trying to memorize over two dozen names she’d been avoiding the staff like the plague, including her lady’s maid. As a result her long dusky blonde hair had been more disheveled than usual as of late, and two days ago she’d come down for breakfast still
dressed in her nightgown because she had forgotten to change.
“Well?” Annabel demanded the second she had barricaded them both in the music room and not only shut the door, but wedged a chair beneath the knob. “Out with it. I know something has happened, and I am not allowing you to leave until I find out what it is.”
Temperance folded her arms across her chest. “You cannot physically restrain me from leaving.”
“Would you care to bet?” A determined gleam lit Annabel’s eyes as she positioned herself in front of the door and braced her legs apart. “You have not been acting yourself since the day of the village festival and I know it is not solely because of the guilt you feel over Lynette leaving.”
“How do you know about that?” Temperance demanded.
Annabel’s lips curved in a smug grin. “The same way I know that Daisy is in love with Patrick but he is enthralled with Hannah.” At Temperance’s blank stare she threw up both hands. “Honestly. Does no one pay attention other than me? All you need to do is keep your eyes open and your mouth closed and people practically shout their secrets to the rooftop.” Her eyes narrowed. “Do you have any idea who I am talking about?”
“Haven’t a vaguest notion.” Temperance’s shoes sank silently into a thick blue and gold Axminster rug as she crossed the room and stared out the window. The sun hung heavily in the sky, its golden light growing dimmer with every passing moment. Soon it would be nightfall. Soon Hugh would be looking for at the bend in the road. Her stomach clenched. Did she really dare go through with it? She wanted to. She wanted to more than anything. When she was with Hugh she felt…she felt free. Like a bird finally let go from its cage.
With the gruff American she could say whatever she wanted. She would do whatever she wanted. She could be whoever she wanted.
After nineteen years of being forced to watch every word that came from her mouth for fear she would offend someone, such a luxury was worth its weight in gold. Now she needed to decide if that feeling was worth possibly putting her family through another scandal.
Taming Temperance Page 7
