by Amanda Quick
“Again, you have the right of it, according to rumor.” Felix watched the kite dart about in the air overhead. “If Beaumont fails to do his duty by his title, Lady Beaumont will inherit his entire fortune.”
“Yes.” She would no doubt shower a good portion of the funds on her damnable brother, Gifford, Jared thought. Unlimited access to money would make him even more obnoxious.
Gifford was Demetria’s only blood relative and she doted on him. As far as Jared was concerned, her over-protective attitude toward her younger brother had had the effect of turning him into a spoiled, willful, hotheaded rakehell who would likely one day get himself killed.
Jared grimaced as he recalled the evening three years ago that Gifford had issued a challenge. The demand to meet for pistols at dawn had come less than an hour after Jared had ended his engagement to Demetria.
Gifford had been beside himself with fury. He had claimed that Jared had humiliated his sister and he had demanded satisfaction.
Jared had refused, of course. After all, he had still been a logical, reasonable man in those days and he had reacted accordingly. He had seen little point in risking his neck or young Gifford’s in a duel that would resolve nothing.
His refusal to meet Gifford on the field of honor had only served to further enrage the younger man. Gifford had labeled him a coward.
“As Beaumont is nearly seventy and in poor health,” Felix said, “there is every likelihood that his lady will find herself a very wealthy widow at any moment.”
“Especially if Beaumont hastens his own demise by too much vigorous activity spent pursuing a course of treatment for impotence.”
Felix smiled coolly. “It will be interesting to see if Beaumont finds a cure for what ails him.”
“I wish him the best of luck,” Jared said.
“You do?” Felix glanced at him with ill-concealed surprise. “I would have thought that you might be interested to hear that Lady Beaumont may soon be a free woman.”
Jared shrugged. “Her freedom, or lack of it, is no longer a matter of concern to me.”
“No? She is more beautiful than ever, I am told. And the rumors of a lover died down long before Beaumont married her.”
“Did they?” Jared asked without much interest. The subject of Demetria’s lover was one of the few topics he had never discussed with Felix. Jared had, in fact, not discussed it with anyone at all.
He knew there had been speculation after he had abruptly ended the engagement, but he had refused to acknowledge the gossip.
“If Lady Beaumont has a paramour these days,” Felix continued, “she does an excellent job of keeping him out of sight.”
“She would need to do so,” Jared said coolly. “Beaumont would hardly countenance his wife having a lover when he, himself, has not yet managed to procure an heir.”
“True enough.” Felix paused. “Regarding the other matter.”
“Nothing new has turned up, I presume?”
Felix shook his head. “I fear I have not uncovered any more information. It must have been the vessel’s captain who arranged the fraud. He was the only one who could have done it.”
“I would prefer to have proof before I dismiss him.”
Felix shrugged. “I understand, sir, but in cases of this sort, it is almost impossible to discover proof. That is the difficult thing about matters of embezzlement. Very hard to follow the trail.”
“So it would seem.” Jared watched the kite soar and listened to Ethan’s and Hugh’s cheerful shouts of encouragement. “Let us wait a while longer, Felix. I am not prepared to take action against the captain just yet.”
“As you wish, sir.”
“Bloody hell,” Jared said softly. “I do not like this business of being deceived. I do not care to play the fool.”
“I am well aware of that, sir.”
There was a moment of silence while both men watched the boys and their kite.
Jared slipped his watch out of his pocket and noted the hour. “You must excuse me, Felix. I have an appointment soon and I fear it will take some time to persuade my charges to bring their kite back to earth. I must be off.”
“As you wish, Chillhurst. I am available, as always, in the event that I am needed.”
“I do not know what I would do without you, Felix.” Jared inclined his head in farewell and set off across the park to collect Ethan, Hugh, Robert, and the kite. It was almost four o’clock, time to fetch Olympia from the Musgrave Institution.
It took Jared nearly twenty minutes to collect the boys, the kite, and a hackney. He glanced at his watch twice as the hired carriage clattered through the crowded streets.
Robert tore his glance away from the fascinating sights outside the hackney’s window. He saw Jared slip his watch back into his pocket for the second time. “Are we going to be late, sir?”
“I trust not. With any luck the lecture will carry on longer than anticipated.”
Ethan kicked his heels against the bottom of the seat. “May we have another ice after we fetch Aunt Olympia?”
“You’ve already had one ice this afternoon,” Jared said.
“Yes, I know, but that was hours ago and I am quite warm again.”
“I’ll wager Aunt Olympia would fancy an ice, sir,” Hugh said with an altruistic expression that did not fool Jared for a moment.
“Do you think so?” Jared pretended to ponder the issue.
“Oh, yes, sir.” Keen anticipation filled Hugh’s innocent gaze. “I am certain of it.”
“We shall see what she has to say about it.” Jared glanced out the window. “We have arrived. Do you see your aunt?”
Ethan leaned out the window. “There she is over there. She is surrounded by several people. I’ll wave to her.”
“No, you will not,” Jared said. “One does not hail a lady in that fashion. Robert will find her and escort her back to the carriage.”
“Right you are, sir.” Robert opened the cab door and jumped down onto the pavement. “I’ll be back in a moment.”
“Do not forget to take her arm,” Jared said.
“Yes, sir.” Robert hurried across the street.
Jared closed the door and sat back against the cushions. He watched Robert’s progress through the small crowd in front of the Musgrave Institution’s lecture rooms.
Felix was right, Jared thought. People saw what they expected to see and no one in the Society for Travel and Exploration was likely to recognize the Viscount Chillhurst. As far as Jared knew, he was not personally acquainted with any members of the society. Nevertheless, it never hurt to be cautious.
“I did not know that Aunt Olympia had so many friends in London,” Ethan said.
“Neither did I,” Jared muttered. He studied the two men standing closest to Olympia. One was so heavy that he was nearly bursting his stays. The other was just the opposite; so thin that he appeared to have been fasting for the past several months.
Both were hanging on to Olympia’s every word, Jared noticed.
“Is something wrong, sir?” Hugh asked anxiously.
“No, Hugh, nothing is wrong.” Jared kept his voice calm and reassuring. He was aware, as always, that Hugh was easily overset by the possibility that his fragile new life with Olympia might be shattered again.
But there was no getting around the fact that Olympia was thoroughly enjoying her conversation with her new cronies.
Jared watched as Olympia spotted Robert and turned toward the carriage. He saw the glowing enthusiasm on her expressive face and felt a stab of annoyance. That look had been inspired by the conversation with the two men at her side.
So this was jealousy, he thought with a jolt of surprise.
It was a most unpleasant sensation.
Jared tried to be philosophical about the matter. After all, a man who sailed the senses on the vapors of passion was no doubt doomed to learn the dark side of such a reckless voyage.
“Here she comes.” Ethan bounced up and down on the seat. “Do y
ou think she will want an ice?”
“I have no notion. Ask her and see.” Jared leaned forward and pushed open the cab door. He watched approvingly as Robert practiced his manners by handing Olympia gallantly up into the carriage.
“Thank you, Robert.” Olympia sat down next to Jared. Beneath the brim of her chip straw bonnet her eyes were sparkling with excitement. “I hope you have all had a lovely afternoon.”
“We flew a kite in the park,” Ethan said. “It was great fun.”
“Do you want a nice, cold ice, Aunt Olympia?” Hugh asked ingenuously. “I expect that it would taste ever so good on such a warm day.”
“An ice?” Olympia smiled at Hugh, momentarily distracted. “Yes, that sounds delightful. It was quite warm in the lecture rooms.”
Everyone looked at Jared.
“I can see that there is a consensus here,” Jared said. He raised the trap in the carriage roof and gave the coachman orders to take them to the nearest respectable shop that sold ices.
“I am so excited by what I have learned today,” Olympia said to him as he reseated himself. “I cannot wait to get on with my study of the diary.”
“Indeed,” Jared muttered with a carefully cultivated air of polite boredom.
The bloody diary could rot, he thought. What he really wanted to know was how much Olympia liked her newfound friends.
Jared did not get the full tale until much later that evening, primarily because Ethan, Hugh, and Robert could not stop talking about their adventures in London.
That did not bother Jared. There would be time enough to hear all the particulars after Mrs. Bird had retired to her quarters and the boys were in bed.
The fierce torment of these late evenings spent closeted alone with Olympia was equalled only by the anticipation of how they would ultimately conclude. He did not think that Olympia could resist the glittering sensual tension that crackled between them for much longer. He knew that he certainly could not.
When the household had quieted down for the night, Jared shut Minotaur in the kitchen and went in search of Olympia. He knew precisely where to find her in the small house.
She looked up from the Lightbourne diary when he walked into the study. Her eyes were very bright and her smile was filled with a warmth that made Jared’s blood run hot. The thought that he could have gone his whole life without ever experiencing this powerful emotion was enough to send a chill down his spine.
“There you are, Mr. Chillhurst.” Olympia marked her place in the diary with a small strip of decorated leather. “I see we have peace and quiet at last. I honestly do not know how we got along without you.”
“The problem was that your household lacked an orderly routine, Miss Wingfield.” Jared walked over to the table that held the brandy decanter. He picked up the bottle and poured two glasses. “Now that such a routine has been established, everything is under control.”
“Do not underestimate your contribution, sir,” she said as he carried the brandy glasses to her desk. “You have done much more than merely establish a routine.” She looked up at him with glowing admiration as she accepted one of the glasses.
“I try to earn my salary.” Jared took a sip of the brandy and wondered if he would drown in her lagoon-colored eyes. “What did you learn today that got you so enthused?”
Olympia looked briefly disconcerted, as if her thoughts had gone in another direction entirely for a moment. She recovered immediately. “I know that you are not particularly interested in my study of the Lightbourne diary, sir.”
“Mmm.” Jared kept his voice noncommittal.
“I told you that I needed to consult some new maps.”
“So you said.”
“Well, I now have access to such sources.” Excitement lit Olympia’s eyes. “Not only does the society maintain an excellent library with a very large collection of maps, but certain members of the society have offered to let me view their personal collections.”
Just what he had feared. Jared recalled the two men who had been hovering over Olympia outside the Musgrave Institution. “Which members?”
“Mr. Torbert and Lord Aldridge. Apparently their personal libraries contain many charts that deal with the West Indies.”
“Have you told them about your quest?” Jared asked warily.
“No, of course not. I merely told them that I was very interested in the geography of the islands.”
Jared frowned. “I suppose they know that you are a student of legends.”
“Yes, but there is no reason why they should think I was searching for the treasure mentioned in the Lightbourne diary,” Olympia assured him. “I have told no one about my interest in that particular legend.”
“I see.”
“Mr. Chillhurst, I know that this topic bores you and as it happens, I wish to discuss something else tonight.”
“What is that, Miss Wingfield?”
“It is difficult to put into words.” Olympia got to her feet and walked around the edge of her desk. She went to stand near the globe. “I fear you will think me overbold. And, indeed, you will be correct in that assumption.”
Jared felt his lower body tighten in anticipation. “I could never think you overbold, Miss Wingfield.”
Olympia put her fingertips on the globe and slowly began to rotate it. “First, I wish to thank you for making it possible for me to pursue my studies of the Lightbourne diary.”
“I had little to do with that.”
“That is not true. If you had not seen to the disposal of that last shipment of goods from my uncle, I would never have been able to afford this visit to London. And if you had not dealt with Squire Pettigrew, I would have been forced to abandon my studies in favor of whisking my nephews out of his reach. Regardless of how you look at it, we are here in town and I am free to do my research because of you.”
“I trust you will find what you are searching for here in London.”
Olympia spun the globe a little faster. “Even if I do not find the treasure mentioned in the diary, I shall not complain, sir. I have already found more than I had ever dreamed of finding because of you.”
Jared went very still. “Have you?”
“Yes.” She did not look at him. Her attention remained fixed on the spinning globe; “Sir, you are a man of the world. You have traveled widely and viewed strange customs firsthand.”
“I have some experience of the world, yes.”
Olympia cleared her throat with a small, discreet cough. “As I have often explained, I, too, am a woman of the world, sir.”
Jared slowly set down the brandy glass. “Miss Wingfield, what are you trying to say?”
She looked up from the rotating globe. Her eyes were brilliant with desire. “As a woman of the world, sir, I would like to ask you a question which I wish you would answer as a man of the world.”
“I will make every attempt to do so,” Jared said.
“Mr. Chillhurst.” Olympia’s voice cracked slightly. She broke off and tried again. “You have given me some reason to believe that you might consider involving yourself in a romantic liaison with me while you are engaged as a tutor in this household. Am I mistaken?”
Jared felt the last, ragged remnants of his self-control turn to ash in the roaring flames of passion. His hands trembled as he gripped the edge of the desk on either side of himself.
“No, Olympia, you are not mistaken. I would be quite willing to consider such a liaison provided that you cease addressing me as Mr. Chillhurst.”
“Jared.” She whirled away from the madly spinning globe and flew across the room, straight into his arms.
Chapter 8
“I was so afraid you would think me overbold,” Olympia confided into Jared’s shirtfront. She was dazed with a combination of joyous relief and the glorious excitement that always consumed her when she was in Jared’s arms. “I know you are a perfect gentleman and I feared my question might offend you.”
Jared kissed the top of her head. “My sweet
siren. I am not a perfect gentleman.”
“Yes, you are.” She lifted her head and gave him a tremulous smile. “At least you make every effort. It’s not your fault that there is a vein of excessive passion within you. I realize that I am quite deliberately provoking that element in your nature. It is no doubt very wrong of me to do so.”
“No, Olympia.” Jared framed her face with his hands. His gaze glittered with fierce certainty. “I do not think there is anything wrong with this emotion and even if there is, I do not particularly care.”
“I am so glad you feel that way. I was almost certain you did.” Olympia was aware of the hard, strong muscles of his thighs as she leaned against him. “You and I are very much alike, are we not? Our experience and study of other lands and peoples has given us a broad view of human nature.”
“Do you think so?”
“Oh, yes. Men and women of the world such as ourselves need not be bound by Society’s conventions.”
Jared cupped her face and looked down into her eyes. “You cannot know the effect you have on me.”
“I hope it is similar to the effect you have on me,” she whispered.
“I suspect it is a thousand times greater.” Jared’s mouth hovered barely an inch above hers. “If you were feeling what I am feeling, you would be consumed by flames.”
“I am consumed by flames.”
Jared muttered something soft, hoarse, and rough with emotion. Olympia could not make out the words but there was no need. His mouth was suddenly on hers and she knew precisely what he was trying to say. Jared desired her tonight with a passion that seared her soul, a passion that equalled her own.
With a tumultuous sense of happiness Olympia gave herself up to Jared’s kiss. She pressed herself closer, seeking the heat and the strength in him. She was dimly aware of him leaning back against the edge of the desk and widening his stance so that she was gently trapped between his muscled thighs.
“So soft.” Jared laced his hands through Olympia’s hair, tearing it free of its precarious moorings. He took great fistfuls of the stuff and clenched and unclenched his fingers in it. “So exquisitely soft.”
Out of the corner of her half-closed eyes Olympia saw her little white lace cap float softly to the carpet. The sight of it filled her with an extraordinary sense of abandon.
