If He's Tempted

by Hannah Howell

  “Dobson said something very similar. He was also pleased that you had settled all of the children rescued from that hell. True, he just grunted and nodded when I told him, but they were definitely grunts and nods of approval.”

  Olympia laughed, easily seeing the big, gruff Dobson doing just as Brant described. Although hardened to the plight of poor children to some extent, he had moved quickly once she had told him of the chains holding the children prisoner in Dobbin House. He further revealed his caring by helping her gather information on Lady Mallam. Hobson shared her wish to rid the world of that woman and undoubtedly shared her disappointment that it probably could not be done in a nice, permanent way.

  “It but goes so very slowly yet I ease my mind by recalling that we are gaining allies.”

  “Exactly. And she is losing them.” She began to slice an apple and set the slices on her plate. “I have to attend a tea at my friend Mrs. Poston’s today,” she announced and calmly ate her food as she waited for the many arguments against her plans.

  They began immediately. Her nephews gave up quickly, well acquainted with her stubbornness. The five younger boys gave it an even greater try but soon quit as well, diverted by the need to fill their bellies until they ached. Brant did not voice his displeasure, or even argue with her, but the look in his eyes told her that he badly wanted to.

  She thought about how their time as lovers had come to a rude halt with her beating. Even though she had certainly been healed enough to enjoy it, he had been hesitant. Since her company ceased coming around once it was time for dinner, he had had no real reason not to come round. She tried not to fear that he had already grown tired of her, but the fear kept slipping into her heart and mind at odd times and refused to be completely dispersed. A part of her urged her to make it very clear that she was healed and eager, while another feared he would reveal that her injuries were not the reason he no longer slipped into her bed at night.

  “When and where?” he asked the moment the door shut behind the younger boys and he was left alone with Olympia and her nephews.

  For a brief moment she feared he had caught wind of what she was thinking and had to fight a fierce blush. Then her good sense returned and she knew that was impossible. If he had any sort of gift, he would have told her. He knew a lot about the Wherlockes so he would know that he could be fully honest about such a thing. It took her a moment to recall what they had been talking about before she had become lost in her own thoughts.

  “As I said, Mrs. Emily Poston,” she replied. “She holds a little affair each year and I have only missed it once since I turned thirteen as she is both a friend and neighbor in the country.” Olympia could tell by the way he looked at her, by the slight narrowing of his eyes, that he had guessed exactly what year she had missed.

  “I know where that is. Not far from here. She and her husband live right at the edge of the best address in the city. I can make certain you reach there safely, and leave in safety as well,” he said, silently cursing the fact that he could not attend, could not stand at her side throughout the event and watch for their enemy.

  Olympia wanted to argue with his plan but bit her tongue instead. Most of the reasons she had for him not to go with her, even as an unseen guard, were ones born of the fact that his own mother had caused him to be so thoroughly rejected by society. That was finally beginning to ease, more and more people beginning to question the tales Lady Mallam told about her son. Olympia was certain they had the marquis of Understone Hill to thank for that.

  It was not enough yet, though, and many a door was still shut to him. He never got an invite to any event. If anyone caught sight of Brant escorting her anywhere, whispers about what he and she might be doing together would begin to fly fast and furious throughout the ton. It was only her concern about his feelings that troubled her about that possibility, however, for she knew he would take on all the guilt for any damage done to her reputation. He need no more guilt wearing him down. It could also be just enough to destroy what few repairs had been made to his own thoroughly blackened reputation.

  “Just as long as you do not allow yourself to be seen,” she said, “for there have been a few who have begun to question all your mother has said about you and we do not wish to destroy that. We will be in sore need of it later, I think.”

  “I know that but I cannot just sit here and do nothing while you walk into that pit of vipers. And what of all your bruises? Do you think there will be no questions asked as to why your face is that color?”

  “I shall just say that someone attempted to rob me as I returned home after doing some shopping. Not such a rare occurrence, sad to say. I will also dim the harshness of them with a touch of cosmetics.”

  Artemis shook his head. “That might work but I do not understand why you continue to go about just listening. There is little of import to be gained from gossiping.”

  “You are quite wrong there, Artemis,” Olympia said and was pleased to see Brant nod in agreement. “While much of the gossip has little foundation in truth or is but petty, useless news, there can sometimes be the hint of a very interesting fact. It does tell you who society has turned against, however, and quite often gives you an idea about who is doing the slandering.”

  “We already know who is slandering Fieldgate.”

  “One also needs to know what lies are being told if one is to refute them.” She smiled faintly. “And Emily has always been a friend. One must never treat the gift of friendship lightly. This is her one large gathering, all she can afford, which is why she chose a time when many in society are at their country houses. She never fails to invite me. Never. I have to go.” She glanced at the clock over the mantelpiece. “And I had best go and begin the long, tedious process of preparing myself.”

  “There are times when a strong woman can be the very best asset any man can have,” said Brant as he watched the door shut behind Olympia.

  “And more times when it can be a royal pain in the arse,” muttered Artemis and laughed along with Stefan and Brant. “Why is this taking so long?” he asked as soon as the laughter quieted.

  “If I was my mother’s only child, it would be done and she would be gone. I would care nothing about scandal or a taint to the name for, despite that, my marriage prospects would not be dampened much. But I have a younger sister and two younger brothers. I also have two older sisters, married and in society. I am trying very hard to end this as quietly as possible.”

  “Which means you must slip through the legalities of it all with as few people as possible.” Artemis nodded. “I can understand that. It is just that she had my aunt attacked and would have had her killed. That makes me anxious to have the threat removed.”

  Despite the fact that Artemis and Stefan were still boys by many people’s reckoning, the looks on their faces as Artemis said those last words were not ones to be ignored. They wanted his mother gone. He doubted the boy was meaning a simple seclusion in the country when he spoke of having her removed. Once he had understood how easily Olympia could have been killed that day in the alley, he had begun to think the same.

  “It may yet come to that. Again, once the truth was known, I would suffer no penalty for how I rid my family of a threat but the others in my family would. Through society, the gossip they so love, and the cruelty that can be all too prevalent, they would suffer.”

  Stefan shook his head. “Have never understood why anyone would fight so hard to remain a part of something that seems rife with backstabbers and liars and worse.”

  “For marriages, information, alliances that might fatten one’s purse. Many things are there that are useful if someone wishes to take the time and effort to wade through the muck to find it. My first investment, the one that helped Ashton get out of debt, was something we began upon meeting a man at a society event.”

  “Ah, there is that, I suppose.”

  “And,” Brant grinned, “many of us do not have so many relatives we can fill a large ballroom by just inviting d
irect family and first cousins.” As the boys laughed, Brant wiped his mouth with a napkin and then stood up. “I neglected to find out exactly when Olympia intends to leave for the Postons’.”

  He escaped the breakfast room before either young man could question his excuse. They were not stupid, however. Brant was fairly sure that everyone in the Warren was aware that he and Olympia had become lovers. He had missed her in his arms this last week. His body ached for her. Their affair was still new but he was certain he had never hungered for a woman as he did for Olympia. Since she would be preparing for an afternoon at a tea, he knew she would not be giving him what he ached for now but that did not slow his step at all. He just wanted to hold her, kiss her, and if she was healed enough to go to some society event, she was healed enough for that as well.

  Brant nearly choked on his tongue when he stepped into her bedchamber. Olympia was standing there in nothing but a large drying cloth and carefully adding some scented oil to a large bath, the scent quickly wafting through the room along with the wisps of steam rising from the water. Her rich, black hair was pinned up in an untidy manner, long, wavy tendrils dangling down to brush over her shoulders. It might be impossible to stop at just one kiss. When she suddenly turned to look at him in surprise, his need for her became painful for the swell of her full breasts rose above the wrap and there was still the glow of color from the steam.

  “I but wondered when you wished to leave,” he said as he walked closer and lightly ran his knuckles over her cheek. “And you are correct, you look healed enough to do as you please.”

  The hunger she could read in his eyes made her bold. “I fear what I would be pleased to do would mean all this lovely bathwater would cool before I got to it.”

  Even though her words struck him like a blow to the stomach, he grinned. “Such a bold lass. If I did not fear we would have some unwanted company in the midst of it, I would show you how much fun it can be to share a bath.” He brushed a kiss over her lips. “And you might wish to grab that little cat before it falls in.”

  Olympia blinked and it took a moment before she caught the meaning of what he had said. She gasped and grabbed her cat, which was balanced precariously on the edge of the tub. As seemed its habit, it immediately curled up against her throat and began purring thunderously.

  “I do not believe I have ever seen a cat be so affectionate but then I have mostly only known barn cats which are nearly feral.”

  “Oh, cats can be affectionate. It is just that many of them decide when they wish to be and care little for your schedule. But,” she said, rubbing her chin against the cat’s head, “if you get them as small as this one is, they can turn into very affectionate animals as you become, well, their mother in a way.” She glanced at the big tabby cat sleeping on a blanket in the corner. “This little one may nurse off the garden cat but it still comes to me more than to the tabby.”

  “Mayhap it has enough sense to understand that you saved its life.” He reached out to scratch the cat’s head and, even though the animal allowed it, it watched him carefully and growled softly. “Hmmm. Jealousy.” He glanced at the tabby, which was watching him closely as well. “Mother may not be this one’s first choice but it still watches out for its charge.”

  “Come along, Lure. Settle down with Dinner.” Olympia put the kitten on the blanket with the mother cat and watched as it was subjected to a bath.

  “Getting my scent of it,” Brant said as he stepped up behind and kissed her bared shoulder. “Time you wish to leave?”

  “Three. Emily likes me to get there a little early so that we can talk and, I think, she likes someone to look over what she has done and approve before company begins to arrive.”

  He nodded and headed for the door, certain that if he did not leave soon he would be pushing her down onto the bed, but he paused, frowned, and looked back at the cats. “Lure? Dinner?”

  “Well, the kitten was a lure, was it not? A lure to pull me into that alley. As for the tabby, she lives in the garden now and shows up at the kitchen door just as dinner is being put out to be served, faithfully, every night and right on time. She lost her kittens shortly after they were born. So, Enid felt she would be able to care for this one.”

  He laughed. “As good a name as any. I will be here with a carriage at three.”

  Olympia sighed when he was gone. He still wanted her. She wished she was not slated to go somewhere and the house was not filled with wide-awake boys who did not always remember to knock before entering a room. She could think of nothing she would like better at the moment than to spend the rest of the day rolling around in bed with Brant.

  “You have become a wanton,” she muttered, shed the cloth wrapped around her, and climbed into her bath. Duty called. Playtime would have to wait until later.

  Brant watched as Olympia came down the stairs. He wondered if she knew that a little gold cat followed her. Then he looked her over from head to toe and wished he did not have to send her into the jaws of society without him at her side. Dressed in a blue gown, white lace at the neck and ends of the sleeves, she was beautiful. The gown also showed to advantage all those curves he was hungry for. He realized he was feeling very possessive of her and tried to kill the feeling. She deserved better than a man who could not seem to protect anyone close to him.

  “Do you know that you have a shadow?” he asked when she reached the bottom of the stairs, and he nodded toward the hem of her skirts.

  Olympia looked down and sighed. “Lure. Bad kitty.” She picked the kitten up, caught sight of Pawl lounging in the back of the front hall reading a book and called, “Pawl, can you put this little demon back into my bedchamber?” She heard a yowl coming down the stairs. “Best be quick about it or Dinner will be trying to claw her way through my door. Mother cat gets very upset when she cannot find this little bit.”

  As soon as the kitten was gone, Brant helped her into her coat and escorted her out to the carriage. It had curtained windows if they were needed so that he could remain hidden as he left her at the Poston house, something that galled him. He should have paid more heed to what his mother had been up to but had to admit that it had never once occurred to him that his mother would find any reason to make him such an outcast amongst society.

  The ride was pleasant enough but only reminded Brant of how much he wanted her. Her scent, the brush of fat, black curls against her shoulders, and even the way she occasionally bit her bottom lip as she thought on the visit facing her made him eager to push her skirts up and take her right there in the carriage. Tonight, he promised himself.

  “When shall I collect you?” he asked as the carriage pulled up in front of the Postons’.

  As she leaned forward in preparation of getting out of the carriage, Olympia was about to answer when there was a soft tap at the window. She was even more startled when Brant pushed his body forward, hiding her behind him as he looked out the window. Over his shoulder she saw the marquis and wondered why Brant did not relax at the sight of a man he knew fairly well now.

  “M’lady?” said the marquis, or Stone as he preferred to be called. “I thought I recognized you.”

  “Brant,” she whispered and nudged him, hard, in the ribs. “I think it wonderful that he is here and can serve as an escort if needed, someone to shelter behind if I find reason for that as well.”

  Brant sighed and pulled away from the window, knowing that he was risking being seen. He knew she was right, just as he knew he had no reason to be jealous of the marquis. The man was eager to make someone pay for what had happened to his child. Even better he fully understood why it all had to be done so carefully. Yet, he was young, handsome, and of a higher rank. Undoubtedly far richer as well, he thought a little sourly.

  “I am willing to bring her home, Brant,” the marquis said as he helped Olympia out of the carriage.

  The word no was on the tip of his tongue but he bit it back. That would be convenient and would lessen the risk that someone would recognize him with O
lympia. It would also give her an added shield from gossip if all saw that the marquis friended her.

  “That would be convenient. Thank you, Stone.”

  As the carriage pulled away Brant decided he would use his time to prepare a romantic night for Olympia. Their time as lovers had not only been short, but a bit rough, their hunger for each other too new and hot to allow much seduction and romance. He smiled, his good mood revived by the idea and he began to make plans.

  “It is very kind of you to offer to escort me home, Stone,” Olympia said as the butler collected their coats.

  “I fear Fieldgate was not so pleased by the offer.” He laughed and shook his head at her look of confusion. “He conceded but I could see that he did not want to hand you over into my care.”

  The thought that Brant might actually be jealous of Stone was a heady one. Olympia wanted to consider it some more, but her friend hurried up to her and a moment later, just long enough to settle Stone in the library with a drink, Emily had her looking at all the arrangements she had made and talking of everything that had happened in her life in the months since they had seen each other.

  Emily had a full, happy life and Olympia admitted to a fleeting twinge of jealousy. Her friend’s husband was a good man, faithful, kind, and madly in love with his wife. They already had two beautiful, healthy children, a boy and a girl. It was all Olympia had once thought would be her future. Despite the dismal fortune her family had with husbands and wives, she had never let go of that dream, not until the night Maynard had destroyed her innocence.

  “So, is the marquis courting you?” asked Emily and then she blushed at the startled look on Olympia’s face. “I realize he is but newly widowed but from the whispers I have been hearing it was an ill-fated match, unequal if you will, and the wife was, well, ill.”