Louisa smiled up at him mischievously, the eloquence of her eyes conveying their own subtle and unmistakable message. She was surprised at the facility with which the conversation tripped off her tongue. “Not sell, Lord Dunstan. I prefer to think of it as a trade—a barter for James’s IOU. You have something I want—and I have something you want. Don’t you agree?”
“The balance is wrong.”
“It sounds good to me.”
“It is hardly on equivalent terms,” Alistair growled, beginning to feel that things weren’t going the way he wanted.
“No. But as no currency exists it will be a satisfactory trade. Besides, the definition of a mistress, Lord Dunstan, is a kept woman. And as James is on his uppers, so to speak, he can no longer afford me. I cannot be a kept woman if he has nothing with which to keep me now, can I?”
“And what kind of man is it that allows his mistress to prostitute herself in this manner?” he said harshly.
Louisa shrugged. “James doesn’t know—and he would be outraged if he did,” she admitted. “But that night at Lady Bricknell’s he lost everything to you, Lord Dunstan. Unless he can raise the four thousand guineas to settle his IOU, he will have to sell his estate, and if that is not sufficient to cover the debt then he will find himself in the debtors’ prison.”
Alistair’s lips twisted with irony. “Should that be the case, then considering the Fleet is full of men in similar situations to himself he will find himself in company conducive to his own.”
Alistair leaned against the balustrade and continued to study Louisa intently. “You bewitch me, Miss Divine,” he confessed after a moment, in a rather blunt manner. “Absolutely. I’ve never met a woman quite like you.”
“No two people are the same, Lord Dunstan.”
“From the moment I saw you I have not been able to get you out of my mind. No woman has had this effect on me in a long time—and I’ve known a lot of women.”
Louisa became quite still, all her instincts telling her to turn away, that he was capable of inflicting on her the kind of emotional damage that she’d suffered the moment she’d realised James had brought them to ruin.
“You flatter me, Lord Dunstan.”
“Do you have many gentlemen friends?”
“No. I’m usually too busy to do much socialising. And you? Do you have many lady friends?”
“Plenty. That way one doesn’t become involved.”
“That can lead to you becoming lonely.”
“And so can being too busy, which is why I think we should get to know each other better. I’m not usually so nonchalant about such things. Usually I take a woman and enjoy her company, but all too soon I become bored with her. I have a distinct feeling you will never bore me, Miss Divine, which is why I am prepared to spend a fortune to have you. I would set you up in your own house in a respectable district. You would have your own horses and carriage and servants. I promise you you would find me more than generous and want for nothing.”
“I do not care for those kind of presents, Lord Dunstan. I am not an innocent to be carried away by your charms and wealth—and nor am I like the other ladies whose company you keep, who hang around eager to incur your influence, impressed by your wealth and magnificent house. Those things mean nothing to me.”
“And what about their owner? Are you not tempted to know me better?”
“It—it is true, I hardly know you,” she faltered.
“We could soon remedy that. I think you would find it interesting to discover more.”
“I am sure you are right, Lord Dunstan,” she replied, trying to still the rapid beating of her heart.
“Perhaps you are afraid, is that it?”
“No, not at all,” she answered coolly.
“I am glad to hear it. But I should tell you that I am not like James Fraser.”
“That I do know. The two of you are worlds apart. However, despite wanting to help James, Lord Dunstan, I am no easy conquest. You know my terms.”
“And are they not open to negotiation?”
“No. For four thousand guineas I will spend one night with you. No more.”
His eyes narrowed with disapproval. “Oh, I think I would want more than that if I am to pay such a vast sum of money.”
“Take it or leave it, Lord Dunstan,” Louisa said, her voice low and direct, her lovely eyes challenging.
Alistair frowned. He had to give her credit, he thought to himself, fighting down a rush of disgust. At least she was honest about what she wanted. She couldn’t have been plainer. And, in retrospect, he had to respect her honesty and courage if not her standards.
Unable to resist her challenge, his eyes became hard and he smiled slightly with self-assurance. If she believed that after one night spent in his arms she would be able to walk away and forget him she was mistaken. As his body as well as his brain began to respond to what was being offered, he was aware of the pleasure to be obtained, of what her mouth would feel like, the silk of her firm yet supple body in his arms, moulded to his, and he was even more aware of the danger he would be courting: making Miss Divine his mistress would, unlike all the other faceless women who had gone before—except one—be no five-minute affair. She was not a woman to be tumbled, enjoyed and forgotten.
But his desire to possess her was so strong he could not resist her. He was determined to have her, whatever the price, his instinct telling him she would be well worth it.
“I must say, you drive a very shrewd bargain.”
“Perhaps that is because I know my own worth, Lord Dunstan.”
“Spoken like a true professional,” Alistair said coolly, the implications making Louisa squirm. “But what if I don’t like your terms? What if I consider you too expensive?”
“That would be regrettable. In this instance money is my object,” she replied softly.
“Of course. In your profession what you do and money are inseparable partners.”
There was a sardonic emphasis to his words and he saw two high spots of colour form on her cheeks. A series of emotions passed over her face, darkening her eyes which settled themselves into icy politeness.
“That is often the case,” she answered, her anger warring with her pride. “But I have told you that I am no whore,” she said, her resentment at his preconceived notions firming her voice which was on the verge of shaking.
“You mean you don’t make a habit of selling yourself?”
“No—and it may surprise you to know that this is the first time.”
“Then I can only conclude that you must care a great deal for Mr Fraser to be prepared to make such a sacrifice,” said Alistair, jealousy searing through him with the force of a butcher’s knife, wondering why it should matter so much.
“Yes, a great deal, as it happens.”
Alistair nodded, moving closer, determined that by the time he had finished with her all thoughts of James Fraser would have been wiped clean from her mind.
The closer Lord Dunstan came, and struggling desperately to ignore the sensual pull he was exerting on her and his sexual magnetism, which was overwhelming, despite the panic that was welling up inside her Louisa forced her mind to remain in control. She sensed he was becoming irritated by her refusal to be swayed from her firm stance and that pleased her.
With his incredible good looks and potent male allure, and wealth beyond her imagination, he thought he only had to snap his fingers and any woman he took a fancy to would fall willingly into his bed. Well, he would see she was different from the others and would not so easily succumb to his charms. Men like Alistair Dunstan weren’t used to being bested by a woman. It did not sit well with him and she hoped it would strengthen his desire to possess her. But she was perplexed by the strength of the emotions he evoked in her, and, try as she might, she could not shake off the effect he was having on her.
“Then what can I say?” Alistair said, his eyes compelling as they looked down into hers of velvety softness. “If I am to spend four thousand
guineas on one night of love, at least give me a sample of what I am to expect—so I can be assured I shall receive value for my money.”
Alistair’s eyes captured Louisa’s, a lazy, seductive smile passing across his handsome face, curling his lips, and against her will she felt herself being drawn towards him, knowing she should step back and walk away, but she was too inexperienced and affected by him to do that. Belated warning bells screamed through her head and her eyes became fixed on his finely sculptured mouth as he came closer still, and to her helpless horror she knew he was going to kiss her.
She was trapped and she knew it. She was mesmerised by him, like a moth to a flame, and she felt her heart suddenly start pounding in a quite unpredictable manner. He was looking into her eyes, holding her spellbound, weaving some magic web around her from which there was no escape.
“Come here,” Alistair said huskily, “and show me.”
The darkening of his eyes, the naked passion she saw in their depths, seemed to work a strange spell on her, but it was his tone and not his words that conquered her, and, without knowing what she was doing, obediently she found herself moving into his arms, her entire body beginning to tremble with desire and fear. There was nothing she could do to still the quiver of anticipation as he lowered his head and covered her mouth with his own.
The shock of his lips on hers was one of wild, indescribable sweetness and sensuality as he claimed a kiss of violent tenderness, evoking feelings she had never felt before. Imprisoned by his protective embrace and seduced by his mouth and strong, caressing hands, which slid down the curve of her spine to the swell of her buttocks and back to her arms, her neck, burning wherever they touched, Louisa clung to him, her body responding eagerly, melting with the primitive sensations that went soaring through her, her lips beginning to move against his with increasing abandon as she fed his hunger, unwittingly increasing it.
Feeling all her resistance, all her will begin to crumble and disintegrate, the moment was one of madness, and she said goodbye to any last-minute doubts she might have had about giving herself to him to pay James’s debt. The sweetness of the kiss, of yielding to it, of willingly parting her soft lips for his searching tongue, made her confused with longing. Unconsciously, and too naive to know how to hide her feelings, her arm rose and slid over his wide, masculine shoulders and she slipped her hand behind his neck, a movement which, in her inexperience, was an act of pure instinct to Louisa, unaware that to Alistair it convinced him further that she was no different from any of the other women under his roof.
When he finally drew his mouth from hers an eternity later, Louisa reluctantly surfaced from the glorious Eden where he had sent her, her face suffused with languor and passion, her eyes luminous.
“Now you know how much I want you,” he murmured, his lips close to hers, his breath warm and caressing, well satisfied with her response, knowing it would be no great effort persuading her to become his mistress despite the devotion she felt for James Fraser. “And you want me. Admit it.”
Too naive to hide her feelings, Louisa stared up at him, her face like an open book for him to read. She had discovered in being with him, in being kissed by him, what it was like to be violently attracted to a man without loving him, and that came in her category of wantonness. Heat scorched through her body when she met his dark, smouldering eyes which studied her, feature by feature, as though he could not gaze enough.
He finally released her, breaking the slender, fragile thread that had held them together a moment before—fragile yet invisibly binding, for Louisa would never be able to forget. The combination of perplexing emotions that engulfed her left her paralysed. Hot, embarrassed colour covered her cheeks as they faced each other, their breathing ragged.
“Come,” he said, taking her hand. “We must go back. You say you are to leave London very soon. How soon?”
“Next week.”
“Then you will come to me here on Saturday. Is that agreed?”
Louisa looked at him with a level gaze, unable to believe she had been victorious, that she had captured her enemy, but when she looked into his mesmerising, vivid blue eyes she had a peculiar feeling that she was the victim, that because of the emotions he had succeeded in awakening inside her, emotions and desires which had left her wanting more, she was like a poor, helpless rabbit caught in a snare. His words went through her like a flame and her face flushed immediately. Her purpose was still strong, and yet she doubted.
Swallowing hard, she nodded. “Yes.”
“Then it is settled. I am not by nature a man cut out for waiting and the two nights between will be an agony, but,” he said, starting to walk back inside the house, “I will manage to survive, knowing I will have you at the end of it. And I will have you,” he said, pausing in his stride and looking down at her, raising her hand to his lips. “That I promise. But come,” he said. “There is something I want you to have before we return to the others, something I know you will appreciate.”
Puzzled, Louisa followed him into a room lined with books, a huge desk covered with neatly stacked papers and folders in the centre. Going to it, he opened a drawer and took out a small package which he handed to her. Louisa looked at him questioningly, wondering what it could be.
“Open it,” he said softly. “It’s a gift—and, I would like to think, the first of many. Perhaps it will atone for any offence I might have caused you when we met at Mr Brewster’s.”
Louisa removed the paper to discover a small book, a brand-new volume of poetry by William Collins, the very same book she had been hoping to purchase at Mr Brewster’s bookshop when she had encountered Lord Dunstan.
“Oh,” she gasped, fingering the beautiful leather binding, flattered to know he had been thinking of her when they had parted—and she with such anger. “What can I say? It’s beautiful—thank you. I shall treasure it always.”
Alistair smiled when he saw her delight. “Perhaps you will think of me whenever you read one of Mr Collins’s poems. But don’t thank me now. Save your appreciation for Saturday night,” he said softly, meaningfully, his smile widening when he saw her cheeks flush rose-pink and confusion leap into her glorious eyes. Lowering his head, he again captured her lips, feeling them open and yield their sweetness. Cupping her breast, he felt the hardening of her nipple, despite the covering fabric of her gown, and he could tell that, for all the unusual circumstances, he would have a responsive lover in this woman he so desired.
“Come,” he said, lifting his mouth from hers. “I am sure our absence has been noticed and commented upon, so I think we should be getting back.”
Together they returned to the others, Louisa engulfed with so many conflicting emotions, she had never been so confused in her life. Holding the volume of poetry in her hand, she felt a curious warmth for the man who had given it to her—the man she had every reason to despise.
Something had happened to her that she had not bargained for. She had never for one moment imagined a kiss could be like that, and she could not deny that she was attracted to Alistair Dunstan in a way that astounded her. If she was not careful she would be in danger of falling into a trap of her own making and becoming sidetracked from the real purpose of her visit here tonight, making her doubt that once she had accomplished her goal on Saturday night she would be able to walk away with her emotions intact.
Every eye in the room turned towards them when they entered, and as Louisa’s gaze swept over them she saw that every face was secretly smiling, sneering. Knowing perfectly well what they were all thinking, she was suddenly sick with shame and disgust, feeling that she was trapped in a bad dream and wishing passionately that she was elsewhere, that she was back home at Bierlow and had never come to London. Alistair turned to speak to one of his guests, unaware of Louisa’s torment, of how she was frantically trying to think of a way of extricating herself from the room. Thankfully Timothy, who had been anxiously watching for her return, came to her rescue.
“Ah, here you are, Louis
a,” he said, causing Lord Dunstan to turn back to them when he heard Timothy speak her name, not having known she was called Louisa until that moment. “Come, let me get you some refreshment. Please excuse us, Lord Dunstan.”
“Of course.” Courteously he bowed his head to Louisa, his eyes narrowing with displeasure when he saw Timothy put his arm around her waist and draw her away, jealousy and anger searing through him like a knife at the familiarity of that possessive gesture. But his face gave no indication as to the violence of his feelings. It was the face which had won him many a game of chance, for it showed not a flicker of emotion nor an inkling of his thoughts, and Louisa would have been both surprised and shocked to learn that, at that moment, he would have settled any sum she cared to name to ensure no man other than himself ever touched her again.
So far she had given nothing away, and Alistair strongly suspected she guarded her privacy fiercely, but he could not rid himself of the feeling that behind the exquisitely beautiful façade there lurked another woman—one quite different.
“Thank you for rescuing me,” Louisa said to Timothy as he led her to where James was lounging with a merry group across the room, her insides still quaking over what had just taken place between herself and Lord Dunstan.
“My pleasure,” he replied in a low, urgent voice. “But stop looking like a frightened rabbit and smile at me. Everyone’s watching you. You must know what they’re thinking—what they’re saying. You and Lord Dunstan have been gone so long the gossip has started already. Don’t look so humble, otherwise these people will eat you alive. James is not at all pleased at the attention you’ve drawn to yourself, and to him.”
Beneath half-lowered lashes Louisa glanced once more at the company around her, wretchedly wanting to lash out at those leering, smirking, painted faces. Instead, she clenched her teeth and shut her ears to the speculative conversation and pulled herself together, composing her features into a serene mask and favouring Timothy with her most ravishing smile.
An Innocent Proposal Page 9
