His Wicked Reputation

by Madeline Hunter

  “I have the day all planned,” Sarah announced the first morning, after pressing more tea on Eva when Eva offered halfhearted resistance. “We must go shopping, of course, so I can show you how we lack nothing to be had in London here. We will return early and have a light supper, because tonight we will attend a musical performance.”

  Rebecca clapped her hands with excitement, to Sarah’s joy. Sarah had taken to Rebecca immediately, and already confided to Eva that such a jewel should not be left to languish in Langdon’s End. With a five-minute conversation the evening before, her cousin became her conspirator in finding Rebecca a good match.

  Normally a visit to the shops would make Eva get busy lining up reasons not to buy, preparing excuses that did not reveal how precarious life had become. With twenty pounds tucked away, however, she did not feel so poor and vulnerable. She might not spend a penny, but she also would not experience the undeserved shame attached to impoverishment.

  “You will have to wear the silver silk tonight,” Rebecca said.

  Sarah pouted. “I was so looking forward to loaning some of my own dresses. You will borrow one, won’t you, Rebecca? Some are appropriate for a girl your age.”

  “We will see,” Eva said, before Rebecca could clap her hands again.

  “In the least, I hope you will avail yourselves of the headdresses and wraps in my wardrobe.”

  Rebecca looked over, pleading with her eyes.

  “We can hardly decline such generosity,” Eva said. Sarah meant well, and her cousin’s desire not to be seen with unfashionable country cousins probably had very little to do with the offer.

  She told herself that again several times as the day unfolded. In particular, when they passed a milliner’s shop and Sarah insisted on going in and having Rebecca and her try on new bonnets with the latest brims, she repeated it to herself.

  “You must have them,” Sarah exclaimed. “They will be perfect for tomorrow’s excursion to the park.”

  Eva calculated their likely cost, and the wisdom of depleting the twenty pounds by that amount. Her bonnet, with its high crown and deep brim, brought a lot of attention to her eyes. She was starting to like her eyes. They appeared quite impressive looking out from this bonnet.

  Rebecca removed her own and set it down. “We cannot afford new bonnets right now, Sarah. I do not mind wearing the ones I brought, if you do not mind my wearing them.”

  “Of course! That is to say, I did not mean to— I had hoped to make it a gift to you, Rebecca. And you too, Eva.”

  Eva smiled at Sarah. “You may make a gift to Rebecca if you like. I see no harm in that.” She untied the ribbons beneath her chin. “As for this one, I will think about purchasing it before I leave town.”

  They left the shop a half hour later, with Rebecca giggling the way a girl should about her new bonnet. All the way home Sarah and Rebecca discussed the fashions they had seen on the streets and in the shops and on the fashion plates. Just talking about such finery had Rebecca alive and bright and more beautiful than ever.

  “I regret that we do not have a box,” Sarah said that evening as her carriage carried them to the theater. “You look so lovely, Rebecca, that it is a shame you won’t be displayed in one.”

  Rebecca did look lovely. Adorned in one of Sarah’s evening dresses—innocent white and with a neckline not too daring, and decorated most discreetly with fine cream embroidery—she would be the most lovely female in the theater, Eva was sure. Her sister’s beauty did not dim her approval of her own appearance. She wore the silver silk and a feathered headdress from Sarah’s collection, along with high kid gloves taken from the chest of her mother’s old finery.

  They took seats in the orchestra, but in front rows reserved for the privileged. The rowdier elements of society could be heard behind them, priming their voices to shout approval or not of the entertainment to come. Young men of all stations roamed in little packs, admiring the women up in the boxes and staring more boldly at the ones in the chairs below. Rebecca, seated between Sarah and Eva, attracted a great deal of attention. From her serene expression, she appeared not to notice.

  They attended without Sarah’s husband, who had a business dinner that night, and in their excitement had arrived early. The seat beside Eva’s remained unclaimed as the time for the performance neared. Suddenly, however, a man’s form stood in front of it. Eva was talking to Sarah and merely noticed someone there out of the corner of her eye.

  “Mr. Fitzallen!” Rebecca’s head popped up from their têtê-a-têtê and her gaze aimed to her left. “Look who is here, Eva.”

  Eva did not look right away. First she saw Sarah do so, with widening eyes. She also waited while her own face flushed so hotly she feared it would be visible to all, despite the cool gaslight in the theater.

  Finally she turned her attention to the man who had last seen her half-naked.

  “Miss Russell.” He bowed. “Miss Rebecca Russell. What a surprise to chance upon you here.”

  “Yes, a big surprise,” Eva managed. “Your journey is completed then?”

  “I arrived back this morning and decided to come to town for the evening. The opportunity for good music drew me.”

  Eva introduced Sarah and explained she and Rebecca were visiting her cousin for a few days.

  “Are you with friends, Mr. Fitzallen?” Sarah asked. “Please join us if you are not.”

  “Thank you. That is a generous offer. I think I shall.”

  And with that Eva found him in the chair next to hers, just as the musicians came out.

  The theater hardly hushed, but the din decreased. Gareth chatted with Sarah, his body angling in that direction so that it almost touched Eva’s. Rebecca squinted at the stage, waiting for the performance to begin. Sarah told Gareth about her husband’s business.

  Finally the music began, and the singer came out to warble her operatic program. Gareth straightened and looked forward. Sarah’s head met Eva’s in front of Rebecca’s chest.

  “Who is this gentleman?”

  Eva knew Sarah meant what is this gentleman, as in what was his pedigree and wealth. “He is the bastard son of Aylesbury.”

  “No!”

  “Yes, and of little fortune, so do not start making plans about my sister.”

  “I am more interested in making plans about myself. He may have little fortune, but he has the best connections, unless that family has forsaken him entirely. You must ask him to dinner tomorrow, so he can meet Wesley. I will invite some other young men to meet Rebecca.”

  “For Rebecca’s sake I will try, but do not expect much success.” She truly did not want to be successful. Gareth would probably think she pursued him if she posed the invitation.

  She gave her attention to the performance then, at least until she heard a low masculine voice in her ear.

  “You ran away, Eva. Did you fear being found in my house?”

  “Yes.” No, I gazed down at my own naked body and my behavior shocked me silly.

  “I told you I would not allow that to happen.”

  She found some spine. “Even so, I had to go. My behavior cannot be excused. I needed to leave, to reclaim some dignity.”

  That voice again, closer. Quieter. “Are you saying you regret it?”

  If I regretted it, I would not relive it every night before I sleep, and touch my own breasts to know something of that pleasure again.

  “Yes.”

  “You did not enjoy it?”

  “No. I am sorry. I am not one of your London sophisticates, I fear.”

  “I am aware of that. Your hasty departure prevented me from apologizing. The blame is entirely mine. You were overwhelmed, and did not know your own mind. I should have never kissed you, or let things get as far as they did.”

  It was the apology she expected, and probably deserved. Yet she rebelled at the way it described her.

  “You are too kind in taking all the blame. I may regret my recklessness, but I was not so overwhelmed that I lost all abili
ty to reason. I think that perhaps you have begun to believe the gossip that says you are irresistible.”

  “Convenient gossip, for your purposes. I am impressed you do not embrace it. Although your honesty leaves me confused.”

  “How so?”

  “You were not overwhelmed, and you did know your own mind, yet you allowed me liberties that you now regret. One would conclude that although I am not irresistible, perhaps pleasure was. Yet you claim you did not enjoy it.”

  “I was curious. At my age, that is not uncommon.”

  “Ah. Of course.”

  Nothing. No more words for what seemed a long spell. He watched the performance. His hands fell to the chair beside his legs.

  A touch on her left thigh’s side almost made her jump up. His hidden hand’s finger meandered up toward her hip, pressing through the silver silk. She stared at the singer, wondering what to do.

  “You are lying,” he whispered. “Even now you tremble. Or perhaps you merely shake with curiosity.”

  She did tremble, so much that Rebecca glanced over quizzically. That finger’s caress continued, raising scandalous thoughts and yearnings as she imagined it on her bare skin.

  “I insist you stop that,” she hissed.

  He took mercy on her and did stop.

  The singer’s performance ended, and she left the stage. The noise in the theater multiplied as numerous fists thumped approval on chair backs and arms.

  “I think Eva is chilled,” Rebecca said to Sarah. “She has been shivering. Although I would be sorry to miss the rest of the program, I think we should go.”

  “Oh, dear. Are you ill, Eva?” Sarah peered over, and reached to feel her neck. “You do seem too warm. Perhaps we should do as Rebecca suggests.”

  “Really, I am fine. We do not—”

  “It would be a pity for you ladies to miss the rest of the evening. I will be happy to escort Miss Russell back to your house,” Gareth said.

  Sarah only hesitated a few seconds. “It would be nice to stay, and I have seen some friends I would like to introduce to Rebecca.”

  “I can stay,” Eva objected. “I am not chilled at all. Truly, I am fine.”

  Sarah felt her face again. “We dare not risk it, what with all the spring fevers. Your face is very flushed, too, Eva. You must accept Mr. Fitzallen’s escort, or Rebecca and I must take you.”

  Rebecca tried to appear willing to go, but the option to stay, once presented, had her pleading with her eyes for that choice.

  Eva stood. “This is ridiculous. I am not sick.”

  “I fear you will be very sick by morning, unless you rest now,” Sarah said. “Get to bed as soon as you arrive back. And tell the cook to fix you some broth for supper.” She leaned closer. “Do not forget that little request I made about tomorrow, please.”

  Gareth helped her to the aisle, his face a picture of solicitous concern. One would think she needed salts from the way he hovered and guided her out of the theater.

  The night air felt wonderful. The theater had made her a bit warm, she admitted to herself. Or rather the man sitting beside her had.

  She stopped and faced Gareth under a lamp attached to the theater’s façade. “You wicked, wicked man.”

  “Delightfully wicked, I hope.”

  “Annoyingly wicked tonight. You will not take me back to Sarah’s house. You will hire a carriage for me, and send me on my way.”

  He sent one of the theater’s footmen to bring a hired cab. She looked out into the night and tried to ignore his presence while they waited.

  When the carriage arrived, he held the door for her. To her dismay, however, he climbed in behind her.

  “I will not have it,” she said. “Get out.”

  “I promised to deliver you safely to your cousin’s house. As a gentleman, I will be good to my word.” He settled across from her. “See, you have nothing to fear from me. I do not importune women, least of all those who are ill.”

  “How thoughtful.”

  “Your cousin summed up my character quickly enough. She entrusted you to me, after all.”

  “My cousin knows nothing about you. She merely did not want to leave herself.” Sarah’s willingness to hand her over to a stranger actually had another explanation. Much like the sisters Neville, Sarah assumed someone like Gareth would never have an interest in such as she. Not even for the basest reasons.

  She supposed Sarah also assumed she would have more sense than to allow a man like Gareth to misbehave. That alternate explanation salved her pride a little.

  “You are ill, correct? The warmth and shivering had no other particular cause, did it?”

  “Not only am I ill, I am sure I am contagious.” She gave him Sarah’s address. He opened the window and called it to the driver.

  Through the dark they rolled. She refused to look at him. She stared at the window beside her and hoped she appeared annoyed and unassailable.

  He would probably try to kiss her soon. Who knew what scandalous things this man could do in a dark carriage? If she were not careful, she might find herself half-naked again. That would be a fine thing, arriving at Sarah’s house in such a state.

  Her whole body waited for him to move. A touch on her knee would probably come first. Then he would sit beside her. Another half a block and the rogue would embrace her and force a kiss on her. In minutes, she would be fighting for her virtue.

  She tingled as she imagined each step he would take. Anticipation filled the carriage. His presence seemed to grow until it invisibly pressed her. Her breasts swelled, betraying her resolve with their sensitivity.

  Any moment now, she was sure. If he had teased her in the theater, he would be ruthless now that they were alone. She almost could not breathe from the suspense, and her mind lined up the words to put him in his place.

  She sneaked a glance at him. Then she turned and stared at him through the dark. She squinted hard, to be sure she saw correctly.

  He had fallen asleep.

  She wanted to hit him with her reticule.

  The carriage stopped, jolting him awake. He reached for the door’s latch. “My apologies, Eva. My only excuse is I was in a saddle most of the day.”

  “There is no need to apologize.”

  He stepped out and handed her down. She had walked three steps to the door when she remembered Sarah’s request. Considering Sarah’s generosity, it would be ungrateful to pretend it had slipped her mind when it had not.

  “My cousin asked me to invite you to dinner tomorrow night. It will be a small gathering, and I am sure you will find it very dull. It is also a long way to ride from Albany Lodge just for a meal. I will explain that you are tired from your travels and—”

  “I would be happy to attend.”

  “It is not necessary.”

  “I will stay in town tonight at the Kings Arms. Tell her to send word of the time if it is other than nine o’clock.”

  She stood there helplessly, trying to find a good reason why he should change his mind.

  He stepped closer and she jumped back. She hurried to the door so he could not kiss her, if that was his plan. His low laugh followed. That made her furious. He turned back to the carriage.

  “Go and sleep, Eva, so you may recover from the malady that infected you tonight.”

  She ran up to her chamber. She called for broth, so Sarah would not think her instructions had been ignored. After she ate it, she went to bed. She did not sleep easily, however.

  An image occupied her mind and would not give her peace. In it she was naked in the carriage, while Gareth sucked her breasts until she was delirious from pleasure.

  * * *

  Gareth lounged on his bed at the Kings Arms, debating whether his friendship with Eva Russell were making him a fool. He sipped at some port. The more he imbibed, the more an ass he felt.

  He had intended to return to Albany Lodge tonight, yet here he was at an inn, with no purpose other than dallying away the time until he could attend the same din
ner as she. It was the sort of fawning strategy to be in a woman’s company that he had not employed since he was twenty, and then the lady had promised unimaginable erotic lessons should he find favor with her. The ultimate prize had been well worth the inconveniences.

  That was not the situation now. The problem might not be that he was a fool, but that Eva was not one.

  Perhaps that was her attraction. It was a hell of a thing when the quality that made a woman interesting to a man was also the quality that ensured he should never have her.

  She looked lovely tonight in that silvery satin. A mature woman, not some girl like her sister, and self-possessed. She had brought Rebecca to the city to try and find her a match, it appeared. More likely Eva would be the one to receive a quick proposal.

  He got up, stripped off his clothes, and washed. Yes, she had looked lovely in that silver dress. Only he had not seen it much. He spent most of the time at the theater seeing her naked, bending this way and that to his command, while passion set her free.

  A pointless fantasy, and he would not indulge it in the future. He had apologized, and she had uttered the appropriate discouraging words. He would not succumb to the temptation to tease her, or even flirt. They would both retreat, with dignity, and all would return to how it was a week ago.

  CHAPTER 10

  Sarah was good to her word about the next night’s dinner. Eva produced Mr. Fitzallen with his aristocratic connections, and Sarah produced three young men who might be suitable matches for Rebecca. Two elderly female friends rounded out the table. The last two performed their social duties quietly¸ politely, and unobtrusively.

  Eva had allowed Sarah to press one of her dinner dresses on her to wear. Eva did not resist very long, and enjoyed slipping into the primrose silk. Her decision to appear better than she might had nothing to do with Gareth Fitzallen’s acceptance of the invitation to join them. Nothing at all.

  The meal proved a much better one than Eva had enjoyed in her own home for many years. Sarah spared no expense, and even served turtle soup. Servants hovered and offered and poured nice wines. Wesley, Sarah’s husband, showed impressive social grace in presiding over it all.