Lori Brighton - [The Seduction 02]

by To Capture a Rake

  For a brief, insane moment he wished he could produce such happiness within her. More than irate at the way of his thoughts, he glanced out the window. He’d expected a small country estate. How very wrong. Holy hell, he’d been right all along. Elizabeth was no wealthy lady, she was a bloody heiress.

  “Lovely place,” he drawled out, annoyed for some reason.

  She gave him a tight smile, smoothing down the skirts of her dowdy gown. “Indeed. My late husband was quite good at investing.”

  The carriage stopped in front of the estate. Out the left side window the home went on and on, but it was no fanciful museum as Lady Lavender had built. No, even over the façade of wealth he could feel a warm hominess of the place that called to him. Out the right window a brilliant green lawn rolled into the distance.

  The carriage door opened, and the footman he’d met at Lady Lavender’s appeared. “My lady!” His greeting was much too jovial for a servant, his smile much too familiar. “Tis good tae see ye again.”

  “Lady?” Gideon queried softly, quirking a dark brow. He certainly couldn’t blame her for not sharing her secrets. After all, who was he to her? But he could not abide liars and cheats, and he had a feeling this woman had purposefully left out the fact that she was an heiress.

  “My husband had a small title,” she muttered, before turning her attention to the footman, almost as if embarrassed. “Will, so glad you made it back in good spirits.” She slipped her hand into Will’s, and he helped her from the carriage. “How is everyone?”

  “Right dandy, they are. Although Benjie all but got ’imself foxed last night.” Will hooted, slapping his thigh. “Should have seen the pup—”

  “Will,” Elizabeth snapped. Before she could reprimand the footman, the front door burst open, the large panels slamming against the golden façade. Gideon stepped warily from the carriage just as a young lad and lass rushed from the front door. They stumbled down the steps like overly eager puppies.

  “Mama!” The boy jumped into her arms, throwing his pudgy hands around Elizabeth’s neck. Elizabeth merely hugged him back with laughing delight.

  “Henry!” Elizabeth pressed a kiss to the boy’s dark curls, then turned and kissed the girl’s round face. “Cally! My sweet babies.”

  Mama?

  Dear God. Gideon wasn’t sure if he should be shocked or irate. Elizabeth had children? The last time he’d been around children, he’d been a child himself. What the bloody hell was he doing here? But Elizabeth…yes, she looked as if she belonged surrounded by babes. He felt completely caught off guard by her motherly position.

  Elizabeth straightened, and her nervous gaze flickered toward him. Although she looked uneasy, he didn’t miss the sparkle of happiness in her green eyes. A sparkle that had been absent since he’d known her. She was thrilled to be home, thrilled to be with her children. “I suppose you have questions.”

  Questions? He wanted to laugh at the absurdity of her statement. But mostly he wanted to curse himself for being interested at all. “A few.”

  “Will, please take Henry and Cally inside,” Elizabeth demanded.

  The serving lad gave her a cocky salute, but his curious gaze was on Gideon. “Yes, my lady.” He grabbed hold of both children and ushered them up the gravel path toward the wide, shallow steps that led into the estate, ignoring their groans of resistance.

  Elizabeth sighed, looking suddenly weary. “I already told you that my mother-in-law is trying to kill me.”

  “Not the question I wanted answered,” he said, his voice frigid. Was she intentionally being vague, or did she really think he hadn’t noticed last night?

  She crossed her arms over her chest, her face taking on a stubborn edge. “What then?”

  He stepped close to her, so close he could feel her warm breath on his neck. “My question, my dear, is how the hell you could possibly have children when until last night ye were a bloody virgin?”

  So, he’d noticed after all.

  That did pose a problem.

  Elizabeth waited until Will had taken the children inside. When the door closed firmly behind them, she finally turned toward Gideon, facing the truth. He’d redressed in the silken waistcoat, white undershirt, and black trousers he’d worn at Lady Lavender’s. Although it was slightly wrinkled, he still looked debonair and entirely too handsome for his own good. If anything, his rumpled state gave him the air of a rakish lord, only adding to his appeal. Wasn’t fair, wasn’t quite fair at all that he should so readily look the part of a nobleman while she never seemed to look above the part of a chambermaid.

  “Shall we walk?”

  “I’d rather hear the truth.” His voice was even, pleasant, but she didn’t miss the underlying hardness in his tone. Truth of the matter was that he frightened her. “Why were we attacked?”

  Elizabeth sighed, her shoulders sinking. Best to just tell him the truth now. “My mother-in-law wants me dead.”

  “As you’ve mentioned.” He didn’t even flinch at the disturbing announcement. “But why?”

  His hard stare made her uneasy. She started walking, following the path that led around the house, the crunch of gravel underfoot the only sound in the quiet afternoon.

  “Because my mother-in-law doesn’t believe I am worthy of her son’s money and estate.” She knew he followed, she could sense him behind her. It was as if he had burrowed into her soul, a burr that clung irritatingly to her insides. “My husband died almost a year ago. When he lived, he protected us. Now…there is no one to keep her at bay.”

  “She’d kill you to get her hands on the inheritance?”

  She paused, and he paused beside her. “Yes, and sadly not even because she needs the money, but because she doesn’t think I deserve it.”

  He released a wry laugh. “Truly, it’s like a Shakespearean play.”

  She was surprised he read Shakespeare but merely shrugged, unable to deny it. “Indeed.”

  The day was beautiful, really. Warm, the sun shining down through a brilliant blue sky. Birds filtered through the garden, their merry chirps peppering the air. And she was home…finally home. But Elizabeth felt cold. So very cold. She wrapped her arms around her waist, watching Gideon pace in front of her. It was the first time she’d seen him lose control of that stone façade. Oh, his face was still hard as granite, those eyes still unbearably chill, but his flustered movements hinted at his true feelings. She’d made him uneasy.

  “And you’ve dragged me into this mess for what reasoning?”

  “You don’t have to be involved.” She swallowed hard. If he refused to stay…she wasn’t sure what she would do. “But I needed you, just once. Just in case…” Oh dear, how did she explain? “I needed to lose my virginity.”

  He paused, his hands on his slim hips, his gaze narrowed on her. “In case what? She had a surgeon examine you for proof of your innocence?” He sneered in disgust, his gaze sweeping over her body in a way that left her heated and humiliated. How could anyone so beautiful be so wretched?

  She looked away, unable to meet his gaze. Yes, in her crazed mind she’d worried the dowager would enforce an examination. “One never knows.”

  “This is utterly ridiculous.”

  “Yes,” she sighed. “I agree, but such is my life at the moment.” And that was the sad, sad truth.

  “So, your mother-in-law is trying to kill you.” He started walking toward the side garden where the roses were in full bloom, his face inscrutable. “And would you care to explain how it is that you could have had children, yet still be a virgin?”

  It was a garden Mr. Ashton had planted for her when he’d uncovered how much she adored roses. She sighed and settled upon a stone bench, looking up at the many windows of the estate and wondering how many servants watched and whispered about her odd guest. Even Will knew very little about the facts.

  It was time for the truth…at least a little of it. She had no choice now but to trust him. “You must promise me one thing before I speak—”


  “I’ll promise you nothing.”

  Her temples began to throb. It was very hard, indeed, to keep calm when she was around the stubborn man. Lord, she either burned with desire or burned with the uncontrollable need to slap him. Which was worse, she wasn’t sure. She tilted her head back just enough to send him a glare. Speaking with Gideon was very much like dealing with the children. “Please don’t be difficult.”

  He settled beside her, his nearness intimidating, his warmth welcoming. She had to force herself not to flinch when his hard thigh pressed to hers. Her toes curled in her boots, for she felt his touch all the way to her feet. Images of last night flashed to mind.

  “Answer me.”

  She looked up into his hard gaze and wondered why she had ever thought her plan would work. Mr. Smith had all but told her she was a naïve fool; she should have believed him. “You have to promise to never tell anyone.”

  He released a wry laugh, those white teeth flashing. For a brief moment he actually looked debonair and charming. “I promise nothing.”

  Really, he was quite like Henry. Dare she threaten to put him to bed without dinner? “What if I make you a promise then?”

  He narrowed his eyes, but he was listening and that was all she could ask for at the moment. Truly, it was humiliating to have to bend to his will. Even more humiliating knowing how much power the man truly held over her, in the bedroom and out.

  “What if I promise to get you far, far away from Lady Lavender? What if I promise you all the money in the world so you will never be at her mercy again?”

  Neither of them moved. His sudden stillness worried her, made her feel as if she’d stepped over a boundary she shouldn’t have crossed. For one long moment they didn’t speak. Lazy clouds drifted away from the sun and the light was suddenly too bright, the birds that fluttered through the garden too loud, the world too brash. Had she gone too far too soon?

  He stretched his legs in front of him and crossed his feet at the ankles. “I’m listening,” he finally murmured.

  She didn’t trust him in the least but still sighed in relief. “Lord Ashton and I were married, tis true. But Henry and Cally are not my children.”

  For one long moment he didn’t respond. Cold fear pierced her body, warning bells clamoring through her mind. Only Mr. Smith knew the truth and now…now Gideon. The difference was that she could trust Mr. Smith. Had she made a grave mistake?

  “Obviously.”

  Right, so she supposed he had uncovered the truth last night when he’d taken her virginity. She sighed, pacing in front of him. She was making a muddled mess of her entire history. “They are my niece and nephew.”

  Gideon was quiet for some time, and she wondered frantically what he was thinking. With no alternative, she had trusted him and blurted out a truth that very few people in this world had known. A truth that could get her tossed from her home or worse. If he realized how much power he now held over her…she shuddered to think about the possible outcome.

  “My sister had a brief affair with Mr. Ashton while working as a maid in his London townhome,” she whispered. “I’d started working as a chambermaid at fifteen years of age and hadn’t seen her much. She died in childbirth. When she died, Mr. Ashton offered me a proposition: marry him and pretend the children were my own, make Henry legitimate so he would get the title and estates. And we would all be taken care of.”

  He didn’t respond.

  “You see, he knew he would never remarry and he had no children of his own, yet wanted a heir desperately.” A breeze whispered through the garden, sending a lock of his dark hair across his forehead. It softened his look, however briefly. “Of course we knew our marriage would be quite scandalous and the ton would never accept me into polite circles, but at least we would be legal and Henry would inherit.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “So, you married a man for money.”

  She stiffened, sensing the contempt in his tone. At this point she should have expected his biting reply. The man seemed to thrive on hurting others. How could she have been intimate with him? Even worse, craved his touch? Yes, she couldn’t deny that his mocking gaze hurt. “I married a man to take care of the children.”

  His lips lifted into a smirk. “However you put it, you’re no better than I.”

  Her eyes narrowed, anger and humiliation bubbling within. “The difference is I didn’t sleep with him.”

  “No, you merely slept with me, a man you don’t know.”

  Her fingers curled as she resisted the urge to slap him. Never had a person so thoroughly angered her, and she’d lived in the slums of London, for God’s sake. Had he no soul? No conscience whatsoever?

  “Do we or do we not have a deal?”

  He remained quiet, prolonging the moment on purpose, she knew, just to torment her. A yellow butterfly fluttered to the pink rosebush near the bench where he sat. He glanced at it briefly, but the beautiful insect held no interest for a man like him. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he would have crushed it beneath his boot merely for fun. The urge to take back every secret she’d shared with him overwhelmed her. But it was too late. The words were spoken. He held their future in his large hands.

  “I’ll think upon it,” he finally said.

  She wasn’t sure if she should feel relieved or annoyed. He hadn’t declined, but of course he was going to drag it out and make her suffer. Blasted man. “And while you’re thinking upon it, I expect you to keep quiet.”

  Those gray eyes flashed, and instantly she regretted demanding anything of him. “Is that a threat?” he said softly. Too softly.

  She needed to tread lightly with Gideon, much like she acted around the spoiled children she’d worked for when she’d been a mere chambermaid. She could only pray he had enough conscience left, or enough interest in the money she offered, to keep her secret.

  “Although I did not give birth to them, they are still my children, and a mother will do whatever it takes to protect her young.”

  “That’s the thing about a man like me, my dear…I have nothing to lose; therefore, threats are worthless.” With that said, the bastard actually stood, smoothed down his waistcoat, and started toward the estate as if he already owned the place.

  Sadly, if everything went as planned, someday soon he would.

  Chapter 7

  “If there is anything else you need, my lord, don’t hesitate to ring for me.” The chambermaid, who had been cleaning the hearth, gave him a hearty wink and sashayed from the marble fireplace toward the door. She was buxom and beautiful, with golden hair and a French accent that only added to her appeal. Why the hell didn’t she stir his blood?

  Because he wasn’t so easily seduced. At least he hadn’t been until he’d met Elizabeth. He frowned, his mood turning sour. He could still picture her in that bloody garden where he’d left her standing alone. Surrounded by roses, that auburn hair sparkling in the sun, she looked like a fairy maiden come to claim his soul. The jest was on her; he had no soul.

  The maid paused, resting her hand on the door. “I’ll send up tea and sandwiches.” Her heated blue gaze slid slowly down his form. “A body like yours needs nourishment.”

  Gideon watched her leave, unsure if he should be amused or annoyed. What an odd assortment of characters Elizabeth had working at the estate. It was quite unlike anything he had seen before, and he’d seen some very strange things indeed. They spoke their opinions loudly and offered little respect for their betters. Hell, there hadn’t even been a butler to greet them upon their arrival. But he could admit the house seemed well kept and there was a jovial sense of family that hung in the air.

  Although his childhood home could have fit into his bedchamber, Elizabeth’s estate and his former cottage had something in common…a sense of belonging. As a lad the feeling might have put him at ease, now it only made him anxious to escape. Aye, the welcoming house offered him no comfort, only made him uneasy.

  With a sigh of frustration, he tore the waistcoat fro
m his shoulders and tossed the wrinkled garment to the large, four-poster bed. Above, a demonically giddy cherubic fresco smiled down at him. The room was as richly furnished as his room at Lady Lavender’s, although the air was not peppered with sin.

  He paced to the large walnut wardrobe and opened the doors. The piece was filled with fine clothing, just as the maid had said. He drew his hands down the garments. They looked as if they’d never been worn, which was odd, almost as if she’d been expecting him. Or maybe she’d written ahead to have the ready-made garments purchased. Her thoughtfulness annoyed him greatly. It didn’t matter what he wore, or if she placed him in the finest of bedchambers, he didn’t belong in polite society. He never would. So why was he still here?

  She’d admitted that she’d hired him to divest her of her virginity. Which he had done and in a none-too-gentle fashion, not that he would allow himself to feel guilty again. He hadn’t known, after all, until it had been too late. But she could have hired him to get rid of her innocence and dropped him off at the nearest coach, headed back to Lady Lavender’s. She acted as if she actually wanted him to stay. Nothing made sense, and he had a feeling she wasn’t telling him everything.

  According to her, all he had to do was keep his mouth shut and she’d pay him enough to make it to America. Too bloody good to be true. He pulled out a pressed shirt. Something wasn’t adding up. Perhaps if he’d been charming, like Alex and James, he might have gotten the truth from her lips. But he’d never been one for sweet smiles and flowery poetry. Besides, there was something about Elizabeth that made him want to shake the blasted woman, not write sonnets.

  He sighed and paced to the windows that overlooked that rose garden. The area was empty now, but the cheery view still mocked him. It was a family home, most likely an estate that had been passed down through generations. Although it was old, signs of modernity were placed around the halls, from the large glass conservatory he’d seen attached to the side of the house to the gas lamps on the main floor.