“So this doesn’t really have to do with rendering an apology.” She regarded him with a smile.
“Yes, actually, it does, but I don’t feel you should go back there alone. This is why I took the liberty of arranging dinner with Vladimir. He has agreed to grant an exclusive interview with you. I figure you can’t get into too much trouble at a dinner table.”
She leapt into Wesley’s embrace, hugging his neck tightly. Her feet left the floor as he lifted her, imprisoned in his arms.
“Tell me that you’re not just saying this in order to acquire my undying gratitude.” She looked down at him. He held her firmly around the waist.
“Indeed, I wish I’d thought to say it sooner.” He grinned.
“Wesley, how did you manage it? I didn’t know you had connections to him.”
“You aren’t the only one with connections, my dear.” He waggled his brows.
Jane held his gaze. “Perhaps, then, you should put me down?”
“Must I?”
Jane was flattered that he’d gone out of his way to secure the interview, and doubly grateful that their friendship had not been tarnished. But she could not reciprocate the feelings that Wesley made no pretense to hide. “Someone might happen by and assume the wrong idea.”
“What? That I’m in your bedroom, holding you in my arms? And that yes, I would accept your offer of a kiss to show your thanks?” He lowered her until their faces were within a few inches apart.
“I made no such offer,” she reminded him. He would be so easy to love, such a willing helpmate, a wonderful companion. But she needed more than Wesley could give. She cupped his face. “You are impossible, you know.”
“I prefer determined,” he responded.
Jane bent down, leaving a gentle kiss on his lips. She opened her eyes and captured her reflection in his. She felt nothing at all, except gratitude.
“Like kissing your brother, was it?” There was sadness in his eyes.
“If I had a brother. Wesley—”
“Well, this is a friendly good morning. Shall we all line up, then, for a quick peck?” Jonesy stood in the doorway, Clarice at her side. “I’d say it’s a good thing that we decided to come upstairs. Your aunt would have fainted dead away if she saw this.”
Wesley gently dropped Jane to her toes and stepped away, clearing his throat.
“Wesley just came to give me some news.” Jane proceeded to clean up the hair strewn about the room.
“What in blazes…” Clarice drew Jane upright by the shoulders and stared wide-eyed at her. “You’ve fucking cut off your hair.”
Jane touched the jagged edges. “It was my choice.”
Clarice narrowed her eyes, assessing her. “Well, I bloody well like it! Makes you seem less innocent.”
Jonesy chuckled and leaned against the door. “Tell us, how was your evening at the McFarland Manor, Jane?” she asked. “Did you track down your mysterious admirer?”
“Not yet.” She went back to picking up her hair. “But Wesley was kind enough to secure me a dinner interview with Vladimir.”
“Us…I’ve secured us a dinner invitation,” Wesley clarified.
Jane shot him a questioning look.
“Did I forget to mention that I was part of this deal?” He frowned. “Bloody hell, it must have slipped my mind.”
“That won’t be necessary. I don’t wish to be an inconvenience,” Jane responded hoping to make her point. She didn’t want Wesley dragged into anything that might prove to be dangerous. If Vladimir was the perpetrator, he might be prone to jealousy. Jane couldn’t bear the weight of something happening to Wesley. It was enough just to watch out for herself.
“Oh, it’s no inconvenience, my dear. Besides, if you think that I would let you go back there and be alone with that creature after what happened at the theater—”
“What happened?” Jonesy and Clarice blurted at the same time.
“Nothing,” Wesley and Jane responded in tandem.
Jane pinned him with a look meant to dismiss the idea that she needed an escort to accompany her.
His, in return, was as determined to convey that he sure as hell didn’t care what she thought.
Jane clenched her fists, feeling the need to stamp her foot. “Fine, what time shall I be ready?”
“I’ll come around seven. It’s their open social night. Dinner is served to the public so potential members can take a tour of the club, an idea suddenly implemented by Madam McFarland. You don’t happen to know anything about that, do you?”
“I may have mentioned something about the manor’s reputation.” Jane shrugged. “But how did you hear about it?”
Wesley glanced at Clarice. “Never mind. Well, all seems to have worked to your advantage. I’ll see you at seven, then.” He leaned down and gave Jane a peck on the forehead.
Clarice and Jonesy waited until the front door slammed shut before both turned to Jane. “What happened at the theater, Jane? Tell us or you don’t leave this room.”
***
Jane, dressed in her finest gown, entered the club poised on Wesley’s arm. The entrance was gaily lit, bright and inviting. Carriages lined the street in front of the manor. Inside, it was a different world from the one Jane had entered a few nights before. An opulent gold chandelier hung above the statue, illuminating the tiled foyer with its brilliance. There were no shadows, no one donning masks, no heavy scent of opium clinging to the air. In the corner near the stairs sat a stringed quartet entertaining guests with soft, pleasant music. Small groups milled, greeting one another, laughing and sipping champagne. To a newcomer, the scene appeared the epitome of grace and propriety. Jane touched her hair. With Clarice’s help it was styled in deep waves that looked polished and modern. A few heads turned as she walked into the room. She hoped that no one recognized her as one of the escorts.
“Ah, there she is! My dear little American princess.” Vladimir raised his arm in a flashy greeting as he came down the last flight of stairs and walked straight toward her. Jane forced a smile as he took her hand and kissed it. Still holding her hand, he stepped back and let his gaze slide up her body. “You are a vision.” He stroked his silvery beard. “But there is something…aha! Your hair! It is different.”
“I decided to try something new,” she responded quietly. She was aware of how his voice echoed in the rotunda of the foyer. Gratefully, perhaps due to her new hairstyle, it appeared he didn’t recognize her as the woman he met a few nights before.
Jane slipped her hand from his and turned to Wesley. “You remember Lady Hampton’s nephew, Wesley?”
“Ah, yes. Your escort, I believe. Lucky boy.” He acknowledged him with a brief nod, and Wesley responded in kind. “I assure you, young Master Wesley, I am perfectly harmless.” He leaned toward him to whisper, “But quite vulnerable to a beautiful woman’s seductions.”
Wesley smiled until the man turned away and speared Jane with a cautionary glance.
Vladimir took Jane’s elbow. “May I?”
Jarrod, the servant she’d met briefly, appeared and Jane remained reserved, as though it was her first time attending the manor. Following behind, Jane held Vladimir’s arm as they ascended to the second story level. To the right lay a beautiful open dining area, with many tables. Several were already filled with wealthy looking guests, with their plumed hats and tailor-made suits. As they were seated, Jane glanced above to the next level, and saw its gleaming white balustrades, but there were no visible stairs leading there. Unless there were others, the back stairs that she’d been ordered to take must be the only means of reaching the third floor.
Jarrod brought a bucket with champagne to the table, showing it to Vladimir for his approval. “Compliments of Madam McFarland.” He bowed, curiously never making eye contact with anyone. Jane noted a deep scar that sliced across his gaunt cheek. “Your waiter will be along shortly.” She watched him walk away, startled when she felt Wesley touch her hand.
“I’m sorry,” she said. �
��I’m simply mesmerized. The manor has spared no expense. It’s quite lovely.”
She slid a look to Wesley, seated on her right. Vladimir was to her left.
“Indeed, Madam is quite determined to bring in new members. For a woman, she has quite a head for business.”
Jane opened her mouth to protest and felt Wesley tap her ankle with his foot.
“Now, my dear, about your hair…” Vladimir brazenly took her chin between his fingers and turned her head, studying the cut. “It is very…how would you say, distinctive?” He offered a charming smile. “It is a little bit rebellious, I think, like the woman, eh?”
Jane patted her hair, glad for her hat that covered the majority of her impulsive choice. “I suppose I could be considered a bit of a non-conformist at times.”
Wesley coughed and dabbed his mouth with his napkin.
Jane heard the sound of soft music beginning in the next room. As several guests rose to make their way toward the ballroom, many nodded their hellos as they passed the table, a few stopping to congratulate Vladimir on his performances. The majority, Jane noticed, were female. She caught Madam McFarland winding her way toward them.
“Why, Miss Goodwin, how nice to see you again. What do you think of our little idea of having an open social night?” She began filling their glasses. “It was an idea I am not ashamed to say I stole from you.” She smiled at Jane. “I should really thank you. Tonight has been a complete success.” She eyed Jane as she handed Wesley a glass. “And who is this dashing young man?”
Wesley stood and took her hand, bowing as he placed a kiss on her knuckles. “Wesley Hampton, madam. I am Miss Goodwin’s escort while she enjoys her stay in London.”
“How very lovely, Miss Goodwin, that you have the attention of not one, but two, handsome dinner companions for the evening.” She held her hand to her throat as she spoke. “I trust that the three of you will find our little club…accommodating.”
“You’ve seen, then, to the arrangements?” Vladimir asked, without looking as he picked up his napkin.
Madam darted a glance at Jane.
“Of course, just as you requested, Mr. Kerchov.”
Vladimir smiled, snapped his napkin, and placed it over his knee, effectively dismissing Madam McFarland.
“Enjoy your evening,” she stated with a tight smile and left as quickly as she’d arrived.
“Now, to what shall we toast on this very special evening?” Vladimir held up his glass.
“To new friendships,” Wesley interjected. His eyes met Jane’s.
Jane lifted her glass, aware that Wesley was as curious as she was about the odd exchange between Madam and Vladimir.
“You did not mention that you were acquainted with the club,” Vladimir pointed out.
Jane forced down a swallow and smiled. “I, uh, came by the other day to interview Madam about the club. One of my writing group peers had indicated she was looking to improve the club’s reputation.”
“And so have you frequented the club since your arrival in London?” he asked conversationally.
Jane chanced a quick look to Wesley who, by his expression, was just as curious to hear her response.
“Other than tonight, just on business.” She averted her eyes from the dark intensity of Vladimir’s gaze and held up her glass again. “Here's to a successful campaign for madam, then?”
Each course was served giving ample time for conversation and more champagne. The meal was exquisite and Vladimir kept them delighted with stories of his travels to various countries around the world. His voice was smooth, mesmerizing, and soon she found herself listening intently, her chin perched on her hand.
Wesley spoke little, his attention on his meal and on making certain his champagne glass was full.
“My dear, you are quite beautiful. Surely you know how every man in the room stares at you?”
Jane narrowed her gaze on Vladimir, who continued to weave stories of his extensive travels. She blamed the subtle voice in her head on too much champagne and her overactive imagination. She was perfectly in control of her senses. Wesley laughed suddenly, responding to Vladimir’s story.
“I see what a passionate woman you are, Jane. I know why you are here. I know what you seek. There is no need for us to play games.”
Jane’s thoughts blurred with reality. Was she hearing another voice in her head?
“I was drawn to you from the first time we met. I have waited patiently for you to come to me, Jane. Now you will see the depth of your passion as seen from my eyes.”
Vladimir paused in his story and took a drink. Jane felt his hand cover her knee. A powerful, thrilling surge of heat rocketed through her blood.
“Did you?” She turned her eyes to his, caught in his dark gaze. Wesley continued to eat his meal. He seemed oblivious that Vladimir had stopped talking.
“You’ll come with me now, Jane,” he said quietly, taking her hand in his.
There was no cause for concern, her mind reasoned. They were just going somewhere quiet to continue the interview. She glanced back at Wesley, who happily raised his glass and dove back into his food.
She felt her hand in his, but her mind was in a fog as her body seemed to float down the dimly lit hallway. He opened a door and dragged her up a narrow staircase. It looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t place where she’d seen it before. In the distance, she heard music. It seemed to be fading. “W-Where are we going?” she asked. She held on to the railing now, trying to keep up with him.
“You’re my beautiful Jane. Lovely as a rose, I will take care of you. Nurture you as you should be cared for.”
He pulled her into another hallway and a few doors down, paused long enough to unlock it. Jane leaned against the wall, her body languid. She looked down the murky hallway and swore she saw a man in a mask watching them. She glanced at the man next to her. He was her savior, the man who knew more about her than she did herself. She reached out and touched his arm, giving him a demure smile. “You’ll take care of me…always?”
“Of course, my dear.”
She glanced down the hallway and found it empty, then took his proffered hand and entered the suite.
“Welcome, my dear. Please have a seat.”
Heavy furniture of polished dark wood gave the room a rich, masculine look. Deep purple drapes and bedding added to the opulent flare. A strange desire pulsed through her veins as she met Vladimir’s gaze. She walked up to him and placed her hand over the front of his trousers.
“You know why I brought you here, don’t you, Jane?”
She nodded. “Yes.” Her eyelids felt heavy, but her body was alive with anticipation. “You want me to me seduce you.”
Vladimir held her gaze captive. “Yes, my sweet, Jane.” He trailed the back of his knuckles down her cheek as he loosened his cravat and unbuttoned his shirt. “Sit, my love.”
She eased down on the settee, her blood racing as she watched him sit down beside her. Before he could speak, she moved close and slipped her hand inside his open shirt. His skin was warm, firm, sending her thoughts into a sexual frenzy.
He gave her a smug grin as he plucked the bottle of champagne from a silver bucket and poured a glass, handing it to her. “Madam’s special champagne.” He searched her eyes, laying his hand aside her cheek before he continued pouring his own fluted glass. He lifted it in salute. “To you, Jane. Tonight, we shall see to what depths that passion runs.”
Thirsty, and feeling quite reckless, she drained her glass and tossed it over her shoulder. She narrowed her gaze at the silver-haired man and pushed to her feet, facing him. She wagged her finger. “You’re a naughty, naughty boy. Don’t think I don’t realize what you’re doing.”
His dark eyes twinkled. “I enjoy being a naughty boy. And I have found that naughty boys enjoy naughty girls. Are you naughty, Jane?”
Delicious warmth threatened to melt her bones. “Shall I show you?” she purred and lifted her skirt high around her hips. Placing a knee o
n either side of his thighs, she dropped into his lap. “Oh! You are a naughty boy!” she exclaimed. His glittering eyes were level with her breasts in the low-cut gown she wore. Something dark curled inside her, a smoky decadence. She wanted only to feel—to soak up every drop of wantonness searching for a way out.
“Exquisite,” Vladimir whispered appreciatively.
With a demure smile, she gripped the back of the chair and leaned forward until she felt his hot breath on her flesh.
“Beautiful, Jane. I want to see all of you.”
The smooth-as-silk voice curled around her emotions, drawing her in, heightening her desire.
His fingers dug into her covered thighs as she held his head captive against her breasts. He teased with tongue and teeth, his scruffy beard tickling the pale mounds of flesh threatening to escape her simple corset. She closed her eyes, blissfully lost, her mind drifting to another man, another night.
His hand moved between her parted thighs. Thick fingers stroked her, the cotton of her pantalets causing a sensual bliss. Her chin dropped to her chest, her hips rocking against him.
“Yes, that’s good, Jane. I want you wet for me.”
Her head was light, engulfed in a mindless euphoria. She crossed her arms over her head, abandoning herself to the passion rising within her. Through hooded lids, she gazed upon her lover, expecting to see that wavy dark hair, those eyes the color of midnight. But he had neither. Something didn’t make sense. Her body notched higher, growing tight. She couldn’t stop, she wanted more, but it wasn’t him. Reality merged with desire. Her head began to pound. She tried to squeeze her thighs shut. “No, no more…I c-can’t.” She fought to stand.
Like a shattering thunderbolt through her brain came a loud voice, an incessant pounding on the heavy wooden door. Her eyes opened and she sucked in the air, her body feeling claustrophobic, as though she’d been underwater for hours. Shock bolted through her system and she looked down at the man with his face in her cleavage. God in heaven, who is this? Where am I?
The Dark Seduction of Miss Jane Page 18
