by Wendy Vella
“No, James, not again.” She shook her head.
“Yes, James, again,” he prompted, and was rewarded with her sweet sigh as she leaned into him.
“This is wrong.”
“I know.” When his lips met hers his body shuddered. James had been waiting for this moment since their last kiss, wanting to have her in his arms again, desperate to taste her soft lips. Slipping a hand inside her cloak he stroked the length of her spine, wanting more of her, needing to feel her body beneath his fingers. He deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping past her defenses to duel with hers. Tracing the edge of her bodice, he then stroked her neck. Her skin felt like warm silk. They both groaned at the contact, her fingers starting a journey of their own, up his shoulders to tangle in his hair.
A groan from the bed made them stop. Eden stumbled backward out of his arms.
“Eden, we must go.” Essex Sinclair appeared in the doorway.
“Yes.” She walked past him. “Good evening and thank you, James.”
“I shall walk you to your door.”
“There is no need, it is but a few feet.” Eden did not look at him as she spoke.
“There is a footman waiting for us, James,” her sister added.
He would follow and watch until they were inside, but he did not tell them that. “Very well, good night, ladies.”
After Eden had gone, James stood for several minutes reliving the feel of her in his arms. She was a complication in his life, a huge complication that he had no clear answer how to deal with.
Giving the bed a last glance, he checked Cambridge Sinclair, who was still lying in the exact position he had put him. James walked from the room. After instructing the footmen to keep a watch on Cambridge, and that under no circumstances was the man to leave the house, he climbed into his carriage and headed home.
Perhaps when the season started and he was surrounded by other women his need for Eden Sinclair would ease. And you're a fool if you believe that. One thing was certain; he could not be alone with her after tonight. She was too tempting and she was a lady, therefore she deserved his respect. If anyone had seen them tonight he would be marrying her in the morning, and that thought should terrify him a lot more than it did.
…
“My head hurts.”
James walked into Cambridge Sinclair's room the following morning as he grumbled those words to a servant who was removing a tray. Closing the door behind the maid, he then locked it and walked to the bed. Of the elder Sinclair there was no sign, which James was grateful for. He had a few words to say to the man who had caused his family so much grief the previous evening.
“What do you want?” Cambridge Sinclair snarled as he struggled into an upright position where he leaned against the headboard. His breath was raspy and his skin sweaty. All signs of a man experiencing a ripping sore head after a night spent imbibing.
“Last night I found your two elder sisters walking down the street—alone, Cambridge. When I realized it was them, I stopped my carriage and asked what had possessed them to take such a reckless jaunt in the dark, alone, where any scoundrel could pick them up and do unspeakable things to them. Do you know what their answer was, Cambridge?”
He shook his head but his eyes told a different story. He knew exactly why his sisters had done what they had.
“They were trying to find you and your elder brother,” James said, reining in his temper as it began to simmer once again. Anything could have happened to those two last night. Any unscrupulous lowlife could have harmed them. The thought made his blood boil.
“Devon had been following you for many nights, making sure you stayed safe from harm, but you were making his task extremely difficult, and so they had decided to assist him.”
“Go to hell!” Cam snapped. “You have nothing to do with our lives, unless it is to thank us for saving yours.”
“Not this time, Cambridge. This time you cost me a great deal and your family more.”
“Wh-what do you mean?”
He was sweating profusely, a large hank of dirty hair had fallen over his eyes, and he looked about fifteen years old.
“According to your sisters, your brother has not slept or eaten for nights in his pursuit of you. Your younger siblings are wondering why you do not visit them, and Essie and Eden are caught between tears and anger at your selfishness. They are all lying to your aunt and uncle to keep your reputation safe.”
“You don't understand.” Cambridge threw James a sullen look.
“You, sir, need to grow up,” James said quietly. “You have a family who love you, a brother who would lay his life down for you, and yet you treat them in such a cavalier manner.”
“You don't understand,” Cambridge said again, but this time his words held little strength.
“I understand that you feel betrayed in some way by your father and yet he allowed you to live under his roof, in a home that may not have always had money, yet it always had love. Do you know what it is like to live without love, Cambridge?”
He was honest and shook his head, and then winced as the action made it hurt.
“My father banned me from my own home at ten years of age. I lived between schools and servants, but if I am ever lucky enough to live with the love you have, I would never treat those who give it to me with so little respect.”
James watched the belligerence leave Cam’s face, to be replaced by shame.
“I-I, oh God, what have I done?”
James did not move as Cam buried his face in his hands. He stood quietly until he was once again in control, and then he finished what he had come to say.
“You owe me a vast amount of money, Cambridge, as last night I cleared your gambling debts.”
“Mother of God,” he groaned again.
“I am aware you do not have the resources to pay them back, and I will not allow you to borrow the money, therefore you will repay it by working for me. I will expect you at my front door at precisely nine o’clock tomorrow morning—and Cambridge, do not be late,” James said as he walked toward the door.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“There are thousands of people looking at us, Dev.”
“You exaggerate, there are only hundreds and they are just curious about what you look like, Eden. Once they see you are whey-faced with the body of a dumpling they will lose interest.”
“Whey-faced!” Eden hissed, her nails biting into the sleeve of her big brother's jacket as he guided her down the stairs.
The Sinclair sisters were attending their first social event, Lady Dalton's musical evening. Their aunt had assured them it would be a small gathering for their first foray into society.
“A few people, Aunt said,” Eden muttered, glaring at her aunt and uncle who were ahead of them.
“She has lived in society for years, Eden, this is probably a few people to her, and compared to some events I have attended, this is a small gathering.”
Looking over the sea of faces Eden studied the room. Huge candelabras stood on cabinets and in alcoves, and more candles hung suspended in chandeliers from the ceiling. The guests glittered and sparkled, dressed in a myriad of colors, and waiters dashed about dispensing drinks. The sight was in fact everything Eden had thought it would be and so much more.
“I am here with you, and as you can see Cam has Essie, love, now relax.” Dev patted her gloved hand where it clenched his sleeve.
“Cam looks good, doesn't he, Dev?”
“Very good. In fact I'm stunned at the changes in him, and I'm sure in some way the Duke is behind it. Yet Cam will not tell me anything.”
Eden refused to acknowledge the flutter in her chest at the mention of the Duke.
“Why do you think that?”
“Because no one has approached me for money and Cam had none, but gambled heavily. There is also the matter of Cam spending a great deal of his time at the Duke's house.”
“Does he, I had not realized. What do you think he is doing there?”
Two we
eks had passed since that horrible night, and she had seen very little of James—which she was pleased about, Eden reminded herself yet again.
“My guess is paying off his debts.”
Eden wondered if he was correct. Had James paid their brother's debts, and if so why? Was it to his mind recompense for her and Dev saving his life?
“Don't think about it now, Eden, tonight is for you and Essie.”
“Are we dressed appropriately, Dev?”
“Yes, you look beautiful. Although had I my way your neckline would be several inches higher and the material of your dress would be thick brocade. Are you wearing a corset under that flimsy material?”
“Should you be mentioning my unmentionables, brother? You look very handsome too, by the way.” Eden scanned the crowd as they followed Essie and Cam, although who she searched for was a mystery as the only people she knew were family.
“Christ!”
“What?” Eden questioned as Dev cursed beside her.
“Good God what the hell is that odd woman wearing now!”
“What woman?”
“Miss Lilliana Braithwaite.”
Eden followed her brother's gaze to where a fair-haired lady stood. From the large, floral arrangement topped with a cluster of grapes, perched in her hair, to the hideously ill shaped orange dress, she did indeed appear odd.
“She's a bloody, brainless twit.”
“Dev!” Eden looked around them; thankfully no one stood close enough to hear her brother's outburst. His eyes were focused on Miss Braithwaite with furious intensity, brows lowered, his scowl menacing.
“What?”
“I cannot believe you are cursing in public, where anyone can overhear you.” Eden waved her hand around. “It is not like you.”
“Sorry,” he mumbled. “Just stay away from her, Eden.”
“Why?”
Dev sighed. “Why can you just not accept my words?”
“You know me better than that.”
“She's—she's just strange, Eden. Please stay away from her.”
“But surely there must be a reason for your reaction?”
He threw the woman a dark look. “I had the displeasure of dancing with her once. She spent the entire time explaining the migration habits of a Red-Necked Grebe. I was so bored I’m sure I nodded off standing up. Then when I told her I had heard enough, she called me an unintelligent clod.”
Eden placed a hand on her chest in mock horror. “Never tell me she didn’t spend the entire dance flattering your ego?”
“Eden,” Dev warned.
“You being the epitome of male elegance, and a highly regarded and upstanding member of society.”
“Have you quite finished?”
Eden smiled. “I believe so.”
“This season,” he muttered, “is going to be testing on my nerves.”
“Poor delicate man that you are.”
“Shrew,” he said beneath his breath, knowing quite well she would hear it.
Eden patted his arm but remained silent. She threw Miss Lilliana Braithwaite a last look as he led her away. She would make sure she was introduced, because anyone who made her big brother react so violently deserved closer inspection, and then she would decide for herself the character of the woman.
“Smile and simper, sister.”
“Must I?”
“It is the done thing.”
“Says who?”
“All the silliest debutantes do it.”
“I have no wish to be known as silly.”
Dev smiled, and she saw the brother he had been before responsibilities had weighed him down.
“Too late.”
He grunted as she elbowed him in the ribs.
Eden was introduced to the hostess, Lady Dalton, who to her mind appeared a silly type of woman. She seemed to giggle a great deal and bat her eyelashes at Dev, but for all that she was polite, and took the time to introduce Eden and Essie to some of the guests.
Soon they were taking their seats and the first person to perform took her seat behind the piano. Thirty minutes later Eden was stifling a groan as the woman hit yet another wrong note.
“Push them in further!”
“I'm trying!” Eden snapped to Cam, struggling to force her earplugs deeper as the girl singing hit a high note and failed, and the sound nearly pierced her eardrums. The problem was Eden could pick out every wrong note and missed key and that made her a terrible critic.
“Oooh, that was two wrong notes,” she whispered to Dev.
“Stop it,” he hissed back.
Most of the Sinclair family, barring Warwick who played a creditable flute, refrained from playing a musical instrument or singing as Eden was forced to leave the house when they practiced, because she couldn't help constantly trying to correct them.
“Thank you, Miss Blackford-Smyth, such a wonderful voice,” Lady Dalton said, clapping loudly as around her everyone sighed with relief. “And now we have a surprise for you all.”
Eden sat up straighter; she loved surprises as long as they were good ones. Turning slightly in her seat, she studied the guests, and it was then she saw the Duke. Their gazes collided and the look they shared was brief but had her body prickling all over. Looking forward once more, she refused to glance his way again.
“I thought you said he was not coming?”
“Who?” Cam whispered back.
“The Duke.”
Cam shrugged. “He wasn't but something obviously changed his mind. Perhaps there is a woman here he sees as his future duchess.”
Eden did not like the kick of jealousy she felt at her brother's words.
“Imagine marrying such a man,” Essie said.
“You could do worse,” Cam added. “He has power and money, and owns several estates, and I believe is considered quite a catch.”
“And what of love and happiness?”
Cam made several scoffing noises at Essie's comments. “There is no place in many marriages for such things, sister. Often it is merely a transaction between two families and nothing more.”
“How sad.”
“You will all marry for love.”
Cam, Eden, and Essie all looked at Dev in surprise.
“I will not watch any of you unhappy. I would rather you simply stayed at home for the remainder of your lives than live such a life.”
Eden could tell this was a serious matter for him because the muscles in his jaw were bunched.
“Not entirely practical, brother, yet a lovely sentiment,” Cam said. “However, these two could get us out of the poorhouse should they marry well. In fact one of them should wed the Duke, that would certainly see us right and perhaps diluting the Raven blood would remove this bloody curse that hangs over us.”
Eden didn't react, outwardly appearing calm as she took in those seated nearby. “Very mercenary of you, Cam, to want us sold to the highest bidder.”
“Neither of you will wed the Duke,” Dev said. “I shudder to think what such a liaison will do to the senses of your progeny. We are also no longer in the poorhouse, strengthening my point that you will marry for love. Now be quiet, as our hostess is about to speak.”
“I have been reliably informed by a certain duke,” Lady Dalton said loudly.
Eden wondered how many dukes were in the room. Surely not many, in fact possibly only hers. He is not yours, Eden.
“There is only one,” Dev whispered, anticipating her question.
“That Miss Eden Sinclair, one of our newest debutantes, can sing and play the piano tolerably well.”
Eden sat up straighter. Surely the woman had not just singled her out?
“Please say this is not happening.” Eden could feel the color draining from her cheeks as Lady Dalton continued.
“Please offer Miss Eden Sinclair your encouragement for filling in on such short notice, and urge her to come and entertain us.”
Dear God!
“Would I be hanged for stabbing a duke, Dev?”
“He's not a bad fellow, Dev, probably thinks he's doing Eden a favor helping her launch into society.”
“I am not a ship, Cam!”
“Shall we say frigate, then?”
“Cam, you are not helping!” Dev snapped. “Now calm down, Eden. Just get up there and do what you do best.”
“I'm going to stab you as well,” Eden hissed at Cam.
“You'd have to catch me first, and we both know I'm quicker.”
“Give me your earplugs.” Dev held out his hand.
She was never really sure why, but Eden could not sing or play with them in, so she reluctantly pulled them out and slipped them to Dev, who put them in the pocket of his coat.
“How's the noise?”
“My head is already starting to hurt,” Eden whispered. She wore earplugs to go about everyday life simply because her hearing was far more acute than that of a normal person. Of all the Sinclairs she had the worst gift, in her opinion. The others may dispute that, but not Eden. If she went without them into a room filled with noise and people she suffered terribly, and the eventual result was a severe headache.
“Come on, I'll be your page turner.” Dev stood and held out his arm. He looked grim and the glare he shot the Duke suggested he would have words with the man when the time presented itself.
Eden rose from her seat and placed her fingers on her brother's arm. She heard the murmurs and whispers as she and Dev walked to the piano. Some thought her presumptuous to be performing at her first social event, others were rustling their programs in boredom. She winced at a loud cough. One man whispered to another that she was a pretty filly.
This could be a disaster. What if she sat shocked and unmoving with no words coming from her mouth? At least one thing would come from this evening, and that was she now had reason to loathe the Duke, and that was far better than the other feelings he created inside her.
James inhaled slowly as Eden rose from her seat. Her dress was cream, with a sheer overdress of rose. It draped and fell around her lovely body, and to his mind she looked sinfully beautiful. The bodice was demure, yet not enough to please him, and left her neck and shoulders bare but for the smallest capped sleeves. The skirts fell in soft folds down her lovely body to stop inches above the ground, exposing a froth of lace beneath. James had thought her exquisite dressed in the clothes she wore in the country, but now she was breathtaking. Each sweet curve and line was exposed to every male present, and the ones he could see were certainly noticing the delectable Miss Eden Sinclair.
