Sunlight from the window reflected off the cut crystal. Gareth sipped his drink. He knew when to retreat. He didn’t want to arouse Simon’s suspicions. He’d have to unearth the information another way. For now he had gained some of Marbury’s trust. Enough to enter into business together.
Gareth leaned back in his leather chair. “You were at the theatre with Lady Stanwell last night.”
“You saw her?” Simon asked.
“I saw you leave together,” Gareth lied. Although he hadn’t seen Jane and Simon depart the theatre, he wanted to know what happened between them after the play ended.
“Yes, the lovely Jane. It was quite an entertaining evening.”
Gareth’s muscles immediately tensed. Had Simon taken her to his home? Had they spent the night together?
“I also happened to be pleasantly distracted by a light skirt in the hall,” Simon continued. “You never know who you may encounter at the theatre.”
Gareth forced himself to relax. Simon referred to Lady Weatherby. It was her job to distract Marbury so Gareth could sneak into the private theatre box and speak with Jane.
Ah, but he’d done more than simply speak with her. Her lips had been warm and moist, and despite pushing him away, he’d felt her shiver in longing and the harsh uneven rhythm of her breathing. It took all his self control not to crush her to him, and her throaty sighs had haunted him all night.
“A light skirt, you say? What about Lady Stanwell?” Gareth asked.
“She’s proving to be a bit of a challenge. I had planned to end up in her bed at the end of the night, but I sensed she would refuse. I went to the Seven Sins afterward.”
Gareth’s relief was palpable. His reaction bothered him more than he wanted to admit. He shouldn’t care, dammit.
“I will have her yet,” Simon said.
Gareth struggled to keep his mask in place. He wanted to reach across the desk and strangle Simon.
All in good time.
“I noticed the tension between you at the park. You believe the young widow is a pretty piece as well, don’t you?” Simon asked.
Gareth hesitated. He knew better than to outright lie after the scene in the park, but he didn’t like where the topic of conversation was headed.
“She’s attractive,” Gareth said.
“How about a wager? Who can bed her first?”
“I don’t want to bed her,” Gareth said. Only now he did lie. He wanted desperately to bed her.
Simon waved his hand dismissively. “We can share her.”
“I don’t share.” Not Jane anyway.
Simon slapped the desk. “Ha! Spoken like a true barrister. You must join us tonight at Vauxhall Gardens. Jane is accompanying me along with a few friends.”
Jane was going to Vauxhall with Simon and his dissolute friends? Would she never learn?
“I’ll be there.”
Chapter Nine
Jane smoothed her skirts as she sat in the boat across from Simon. “It’s been a long time since I’ve visited Vauxhall Gardens,” she said.
Simon chuckled. “Didn’t your husband take you?”
“Yes, but only during the day. It’s much more exciting after dark.”
The boat ride across the Thames to Vauxhall Gardens went swiftly, and soon they passed through the water entrance.
The boatman maneuvered the boat to the quayside. Simon stepped out, then assisted Jane to dry land.
Jane adjusted her evening cloak, which covered an expensive gown of cerulean blue trimmed with silver that boasted a scandalously low neckline. With her fair hair piled high in an elegant style with loose curls brushing her bare shoulders, she knew she looked attractive.
“Will your friends join us?” she asked.
Simon’s hair and face looked pale in the moonlight. “Lord Hartley and Lady Preston will meet us at my private supper box.”
Jane knew of Hartley. He was an heir to an earldom and a bachelor. Lady Preston was a dashing widow of a marquess and close to Jane’s age. She had been briefly introduced to Lady Preston at a ball years ago when they were both newly married. But unlike Charles, Lady Preston’s husband had been much older and had died of natural causes.
“I also invited Mr. Ramsey to join us this evening,” Simon said.
Jane took a quick breath. Gareth? Must he be everywhere? She recalled Gareth telling Simon they had business to discuss at the park. Is that why he was part of Simon’s group of friends?
She had little time to contemplate her thoughts. They walked the short distance to the entrance, where Simon paid the fee to enter the gardens. He led her down a winding gravel pathway.
Lanterns lit the way. They walked for a while until they turned right and she halted.
Jane gasped. “It’s beautiful and looks so different at night!”
Meticulously landscaped gardens illuminated with hundreds of lanterns branched off into intricate private arbors and hedges. Lovely tree-lined promenades and gravel-paths invited leisurely walks by visitors. An orchestra housed in a rotunda played lively music for dancing, and a pavilion with supper boxes served food. In the distance, a dozen lanterns lit Roman inspired ruins and elegant fountains of swans and mermaids. The sound of music, the glow of the lanterns, and the scent of flowering shrubs and greenery wafted to her.
Simon reached for her gloved hand. “Come. I see my friends.”
He led her to a supper box big enough to hold eight guests comfortably. Fine crystal and tableware glittered brightly beneath the lanterns, and the walls of the box were decorated with a William Hogarth painting.
Lord Hartley was of medium height and build with pale blue eyes and a balding pate of thinning red hair. He bowed when she entered the box.
“Charmed,” Hartley said.
Lady Preston rose from her seat to glide forward. She was an attractive woman with dark hair and tip-tilted green eyes that gave her a sultry appearance. Her emerald gown had an even lower bodice than Jane’s that managed to be scandalous and stylish at once. Fat curls crowned her head, and a brilliant cut emerald the size of a walnut glittered in the deep valley between her breasts.
“Welcome to our group,” Lady Preston said, then came close to kiss the air on both sides of Jane’s cheeks.
At the scrape of booted feet behind her, a prickle of awareness tingled down Jane’s spine. She spun around to see a dark figure step from the shadows and enter the supper box.
Gareth.
He was striking in a simple navy jacket and buff waistcoat, and his ruggedly handsome features gave him a predatory look. A wayward lock of dark, curling hair brushed his forehead. She resisted the urge to reach out and smooth it back. There was such a firm strength about him, and he exuded confidence. Standing next to Simon Marbury and Lord Hartley, Gareth’s broad shoulders made the others appear like boys.
The men shook hands and Lady Preston curtsied.
Then, at last, Gareth turned to her.
“Lady Stanwell,” he said simply.
The glow of a nearby lantern gave his eyes a feral yellow appearance that reminded her of a wolf.
She curtsied, avoiding his gaze. “Mr. Ramsey.”
“Let us sit and enjoy the evening,” Simon said.
Gathering her senses, Jane looked about frantically, hoping not to sit beside Gareth. The decision was made for her when Simon motioned for her to sit next to him. Lord Hartley occupied her other side.
Soon after, a waiter arrived.
“The arrack punch,” Simon said. “We want to mix our own.”
They ordered and soon the group began conversing. Jane had difficulty following the conversation. She stole a glimpse at Gareth and was dismayed to find Lady Preston in deep conversation with him. Her heavy lidded green gaze never left his face. She laughed and her bejeweled fingers rose to her low-cut bodice in a clear attempt to draw Gareth’s attention to her breasts.
Heat rose in Jane’s face at the lady’s shocking behavior.
The spirits arrived along with ch
icken, shaved pieces of ham, and salad.
“The wafer-thin ham is a Vauxhall Gardens favorite,” Hartley said. “But the punch is not to be missed.”
Simon mixed the punch by adding rum, lemon, arrack, and sugar. A glass was handed to Jane. She raised the glass to her lips and swallowed. The potent alcohol burned her throat, and she sputtered and coughed.
Lady Preston laughed. “Simon’s punch is notoriously potent, but delicious. The more you drink the easier it goes down.” The lady raised her glass and waited for Jane to do the same.
Jane caught Gareth’s glittering black gaze of disapproval across the table. Clearly he didn’t want her drinking. But what right did he have to tell her what to do?
Jane raised her glass and took another sip. The alcohol quickly took effect, warming her blood and easing her nerves.
As the evening progressed, the amount of alcohol that Simon and his friends consumed was shocking. As the punch continued to flow freely, the laughter grew louder and the conversation grew coarser and lewder.
Lady Preston’s veiled looks at Gareth became bolder. Her expression was hungry, lustful.
Jane stirred in her seat.
Simon leaned toward her and Lord Hartley. “Lady Stanwell is officially out of mourning.”
Hartley raised his glass. “To the living!” His breath smelled of rum.
Simon laughed. “The lady is looking for excitement and pleasure.”
Hartley’s brow rose. “Truly?”
Jane opened her mouth to protest, then stopped. She’d never intended Simon to tell others of her intentions. But what harm could come of it? Lord Hartley was clearly into his cups. Would he even remember what was said tomorrow?
Simon winked and gripped the back of Jane’s chair. It was nearly an embrace. “I promised the lady I’d help her.”
“I envy you, Marbury,” Hartley slurred.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lady Preston lean close to Gareth. Her lips grazed his ear as she whispered, and her finger trailed down his chest. Seconds later, Gareth grinned.
Jane’s blood pounded. She reached for her glass. She knew the alcohol was affecting her. She knew and she didn’t care. Jane turned her attention to flirting outrageously with Simon and Hartley.
Gareth Ramsey could go to the devil!
…
The evening was not progressing the way Gareth had expected. He’d planned to get closer to Simon Marbury, to cultivate the fragile trust between them.
And to watch Jane.
Instead he was seated beside Lady Preston. The distance separating him from Jane in the supper box may have been only a few feet, but it seemed much, much farther as he watched her between Marbury and Hartley.
Lady Preston placed her hand on his sleeve. “You are a barrister, correct?”
“I am.”
“I’ve heard of your reputation. They say you obtained a divorce for a member of the ton.”
Who hadn’t heard? Many society ladies were put off by his reputation. After all, Gareth had proven the adultery of his clients’ wives, never the husbands. But clearly Lady Preston was not dismayed.
She licked her full bottom lip. “You are considered ruthless in the courtroom.”
“It was one case, Lady Preston,” Gareth said.
She tsked. “You must call me Serena. May I tell you a secret?”
Gareth inclined his head. “If you like.”
She leaned close and whispered in his ear. “I prefer big, muscular men. The fiercer in the bedroom the better.” Her hand slipped beneath the table to boldly graze his thigh.
There was a time he would have found the lady’s brazenness arousing. With her raven hair and voluptuous figure, she was an attractive woman. And the worldly glint in her gaze said she’d know how to please a man in bed. At one point in his life, he would have taken what she offered without a second thought. But tonight he simply found her annoying.
His gaze returned to Jane seated between Marbury and Lord Hartley. She looked achingly beautiful in her deep blue gown, her golden hair gleaming. The glow from the dozens of lanterns made her skin appear as smooth and pale as the pearls adorning her ears.
Simon’s eyes traveled over Jane with unmistakable lust. Hartley’s gaze fell to the creamy expanse of Jane’s neck, then lower, to the tops of her breasts above the rounded bodice of her gown. A lascivious gleam lit Hartley’s beady eyes.
Jane continued to drink and flirt with the two men. Her face was flushed, and Gareth knew the potent punch was affecting her senses. He was again struck by her innocence. She may pretend to be a sophisticated widow, but her wide-eyed expressions at the men’s comments said otherwise.
Did she even know Hartley was drunk, and salivated for her? Did she know of Simon’s corrupt sexual practices?
When Hartley reached past Jane to grasp the arrack, purposely stroking the side of Jane’s breast, Gareth’s blood temperature climbed ominously.
He needed to get Jane out of here.
Chapter Ten
“Vauxhall Gardens in the evening is wonderful,” Jane gushed. “Thank you for bringing me.”
“It is merely a start.” Simon rose and offered his arm. “Come. The orchestra is playing again. We must dance.”
She stood and placed her hand on his sleeve. Leaving the supper box, they proceeded to the rotunda. They were soon surrounded by a throng of others enjoying the entertainment.
Jane felt engulfed. She had drunk three glasses of Simon’s punch, and she felt slightly unsteady on her feet. The lanterns began to blur, the laughter and chatter of all the other people echoed around her. They joined the quadrille, and the dancers on either side of her moved gracefully as they formed the figures. Jane concentrated on the steps and was grateful when the dance ended and Simon drew her aside.
“Is this the excitement and fun you’ve been craving?” Simon asked.
“It’s wonderful.”
“This is only the beginning. To experience all life has to offer you must share it with friends,” Simon said.
“Your friends are very welcoming,” Jane said.
Simon flashed a white smile. “Hartley likes you.”
Hartley? What was he saying? She squinted and tried to focus on his features.
“Come home with me tonight, my lady. Let us pleasure you.”
Her head spun. She must have misheard him. He couldn’t possibly be suggesting…
Her arm was suddenly grasped from behind. She whirled to find Gareth staring down at her.
“The lady promised me this dance,” Gareth said.
Lady Preston stood beside Gareth, a look of confusion on her face. Had the two of them been dancing together and Jane hadn’t noticed? The lady pouted, looking displeased.
“Let us switch partners.” Gareth thrust Lady Preston at Simon, then took Jane’s arm.
The dance had changed, and Gareth swung her into a cotillion. She couldn’t believe his audacity. She had never promised him a dance and he damn well knew it. Agitated, she lost count of the steps and stumbled.
He was by her side in a flash, grasping her arm once again.
“Come with me,” he said.
She had little choice but to follow him. She thought he would lead her back to the supper box, but he steered her down the gravel path past the artificial Roman ruins and statues. The music and chatter faded in the background.
She rushed to keep up with his long strides. “Where are we going?”
He ignored her and turned right, down a pathway lined with trees and tall hedges. A fountain gurgled somewhere in the distance.
Gareth’s face was stark in the moonlight. “Do you have any idea what kind of danger you’re exposing yourself to?”
“What danger? I was dancing in Vauxhall Gardens with a very handsome man. You’re the one who has an uncontrollable urge to pull me away.”
“I’m saving you.”
“From what?”
“Little fool! You’ve been drinking the potent arrack for an ho
ur at Simon’s urging. He’s purposely adding stronger and stronger spirits to each glass in order to get you drunk and more susceptible to his advances,” he said as he pulled her more deeply into the secluded path.
She halted, digging her slippers into the gravel. “You can’t be serious.”
Tall and built, he towered over her. “You should thank me.”
Her incredulity veered sharply to anger. “Thank you! You keep showing up and interfering in my life!”
Gareth glared at her. “You should thank me for that, too.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Of all the insolent—” She stopped, knowing her next choice of words would be entirely unladylike. “Your male vanity is wounded just because I chose Simon over you.”
“For a widow you are completely naive when it comes to the base needs of men such as Marbury.”
Hands on her hips, she met his hard gaze. “Meaning?”
“One more drink and you would find yourself in his home tonight going along with whatever sexual games Marbury concocts. Games in which his friends, including Lord Hartley, can freely participate to enhance Marbury’s own enjoyment.”
She took a quick, sharp breath. “You’re lying. You want me to like you. To choose you to be first on my list.”
The look in his eyes was hot and intense. “Like is not the word I would use to describe what I want you to feel with me.”
A delicious shiver ran down her spine and heated her blood. She thought herself capable of resisting Gareth Ramsey. She feared her defenses were crumbling. Everything about him was titillating, from his rugged features to his broad, muscular chest. Simon’s kisses made her feel insipid, whereas Gareth’s left her hot and wanting. The desire she’d felt had been heady in his arms. Nothing in her past came close to compare.
“You are supposed to be Simon’s friend,” she argued.
“We are involved in business matters, but we are not friends,” he said.
Questions plagued her, and she fought to ignore the pull between them and hold on to her reason. “You want me to be grateful to you. To consider you instead of him. How am I to be sure you haven’t been waiting for me to become intoxicated before dragging me off into the shrubs?”
At the Spy's Pleasure Page 8
