An Affair with a Notorious Heiress

by Lorraine Heath

  He leaned down, she tilted up her face, welcoming the brushing of his lips over hers.

  “Let your sister know that I’ll be taking her rowing this afternoon,” he said quietly, before shoving open the door.

  It was ridiculous how much she didn’t want to leave him.

  “Be certain you’re her chaperone.”

  Nodding, she slipped through the doorway, held her breath as the door closed with a hushed click. She locked it, then leaned against it, and waited, listening for the sound of his retreating carriage.

  When it came, she headed for the stairs, wondering how she could possibly sleep, knowing that she’d be seeing him in only a few hours.

  Chapter 14

  Gina Hammersley was beginning to suspect she was the one serving as chaperone on these outings. While she was very much aware Rexton wasn’t courting her, she was beginning to suspect he might well be courting her sister. She’d noticed the attraction simmering between them during their first outing to the park. But it seemed they were no longer striving to ignore it or to pretend it didn’t exist.

  Sitting beside her on the boat’s bench, Tillie was wearing a pretty pink frock and holding a matching parasol that kept the sun off her face. While she appeared to be searching the water for tiny fish swimming about, her gaze continually flitted over to Rexton and her cheeks would turn a bright rosy hue as though the man had leaned over and whispered something naughty in her ear. Meanwhile his eyes darkened, the muscles in his bared forearms would flex all the more, and the boat would travel a bit faster. It was fascinating to watch.

  She didn’t quite understand how this exercise was going to garner the opportunity for her to meet and talk with men. When she expressed her concerns, Rexton assured her it was all about being seen. But anyone who saw them all together was going to know she wasn’t holding the marquess’s interest.

  She feared by Season’s end she’d be in the same position she was now, with no one to call her own.

  Tillie did wish he hadn’t removed his jacket or rolled up his sleeves so slowly, so provocatively, revealing those lovely forearms upon which he’d rested the night before while dipping down to kiss her shoulder after one of their passion-filled rides had come to an end. It was ludicrous that she should find hair on the forearms so masculine, that the way the ropy muscles bunched as he rowed should be so intoxicating. No wonder he was so strong, had been able to carry her as though she weighed nothing at all.

  It was a lovely cool summer afternoon, yet she felt as though she was walking in New York with the sun beating down on her and no air to be found.

  Before falling into slumber, she’d convinced herself last night had been an aberration, that she’d misread the intensity of his attentions because she’d gone so long without a man’s interest. She’d been desperate for it, and so she’d imagined it to be far greater than it was. Although at the moment, she was surprised the little boat didn’t ignite into flames from his heated glances.

  She read promises there, precious vows of what he would do with her when next he had her. Dear God, but being a man’s mistress was far better than being his wife. Perhaps it was because affairs were illicit and therefore brought with them a greater temptation. Perhaps it was because they were renegades, breaking the laws of God and man. Perhaps it was because they were fully aware their time together was finite. That they wouldn’t be together until death so each moment was more precious.

  Whatever it was, she feared that everyone in the boats surrounding them knew what they’d done last night, what they would do again. That they could see him branded upon her, knew exactly where his mouth had been, where she longed for it to be once more.

  “Perhaps we should discuss your efforts where Gina is concerned,” she said as much to distract herself from her wandering wicked thoughts as to ensure he did indeed have some plan for securing a husband for her sister.

  “I believe there is some sort of affair tomorrow night,” he said laconically as though he hadn’t given it any thought.

  “Yes, the Ainsley ball. Gina will be there. It’s well attended.” She lifted a shoulder, dropped it back down. “At least it was some years back when I was welcomed. I’ve no reason to believe that’s changed.” She’d read nothing in the gossip sheets to indicate the duke and duchess had lost favor. “How will you proceed while there?”

  He glanced behind him, no doubt striving to ensure he didn’t ram into anyone. Several boats were being rowed along this stretch of river. “Continue to introduce her about, shower her with attention, dance with her.”

  She hated every aspect of his plan. It struck a chord of jealousy within her that she didn’t much like. She wanted him to dance with her, to shower her with attention, to escort her among his peers. Impossible, all of it. Yet still she wanted it. Where had he been when she’d been open to courtship?

  “I like the way you both converse as though I’m not here,” Gina said, a bit testily.

  Reaching out, Tillie squeezed her hand. “Sorry, sweeting. That was rather rude of us.”

  “Won’t people find it odd that you’re suddenly attending balls, my lord?”

  He directed his attention to Gina, his smile warm, not nearly as wicked as the ones he bestowed on Tillie. “With rare exception, I do avoid them. The mamas are all a bit too pushy for my tastes. That’s to our advantage now, though, as people will believe I’m truly smitten with you. Why else would I go if my heart had not been captured?”

  “If you appear too smitten,” Tillie felt compelled to point out, “others may steer clear out of respect for you.”

  “I shall display the proper amount of attention to indicate I’m interested but not yet fully committed.”

  “You seem rather good at these games.” She hated that she sounded out of sorts by the thought.

  “I have friends who have fallen. I had the chance to observe them as they made fools of themselves. I’m determined to go down with a bit more dignity.”

  “You’re open to love then?”

  “I am. When the right woman comes along.”

  “What would make a woman the right one?” Gina asked.

  “Gina, don’t be so bold,” Tillie chastised.

  “Why not? He asked what I wanted in a husband. I’m curious as to what qualities he seeks in a wife.”

  He laughed. “We’re not looking to match me up, Little One.”

  Tillie was selfishly glad he wasn’t yet ready to marry. Although he would be and soon.

  “Why not?” Gina insisted. “You’re getting up in years. If you wait much longer you might not be able to produce an offspring.”

  Gina was correct. He required an heir. Strange how if Tillie had been married to him she didn’t think she’d find fault with his mother for reminding her that she was to get with child quickly. She would have wanted to present him with a son, had the insane notion she could give him one now. That would be disastrous. But if she were to find herself with child before leaving for New York, she would have no regrets. She would claim herself to be a widow—

  What ludicrous thoughts.

  He scowled as though deeply offended by her sister’s words. “I’m not yet thirty.”

  “Close, though, I’d wager. I could help you find someone while you’re helping me.”

  “A wife for me is not on the table for discussion. Concentrate on yourself. You don’t need the distraction.”

  “But—”

  “He’s right,” Tillie interrupted, knowing when Gina latched on to an idea she was not one to let it go easily. “We haven’t much time. The Season is already half over. We need to focus on getting you wed.”

  “So you can abandon me and return to America?”

  “So I can get on with my life, yes.” She wasn’t going to feel guilty about it. She’d already sacrificed so much for Gina, stayed here when she desperately wanted to move on.

  She was aware of the oars going still, silent, no longer moving through the water. Rexton’s gaze was on her, studyin
g her as though he were searching for something important.

  “Do you miss it?” he finally asked.

  “New York? Yes, of course I do. Dreadfully.”

  His jaw tightened as though he didn’t much like her answer. “What of the balls? Society? Being welcomed here in London?”

  More than she’d thought possible. In her youth, she’d thrived on the excitement, the festivities, and constantly being in motion. Her nights had been filled with balls, dinners, theater. Her days had included museums, art shows, morning calls. She’d visited with people; they had visited with her. “What I miss or do not miss is of no consequence.”

  “Would you stay if you were accepted back into Society?”

  Stay and watch him take another woman to wife? A man in his position did not marry a woman of Tillie’s circumstances. If she were welcomed back, no man of any consequence would ask for her tainted hand. He watched her with such intensity she felt as though she were once again in court, aware of all eyes on her, as her sins were leveled against her. She’d endured it because she’d known that at the end she would gain her freedom. She couldn’t give it up again. “Our entire focus should be on Gina. So the ball, and then what plans have you?”

  He seemed less than happy with her response, but he had to be aware of the reality of their situation, the truth of hers: acceptance would never be full and complete.

  “Then we see,” he said.

  “You don’t seem to have this planned out.”

  “I was under the impression love could not be planned.”

  “But some action must be taken.”

  “We are taking action.”

  “I just don’t see that our current activity is proving fruitful.”

  “Oh, ye of little faith.” He brought the oars out of the water, set them in the bottom of the boat, and looked once more over his shoulder. “Oy! Somerdale! Noticed you stopped. Having trouble, there?”

  The earl, one of Rexton’s contemporaries, turned a bright red. “No, old chap. Just taking a bit of a rest.” He leaned forward slightly. “Is that Miss Hammersley with you?”

  “It is. And her sister, the lovely Lady Landsdowne.”

  The man seemed surprised by that pronouncement. As was Tillie. Lovely? If she didn’t know better she’d think he was striving to foist her off on someone. He should have used the descriptor for Gina. Still Somerdale swept his hat from his head. “Lady Landsdowne, Miss Hammersley. May I say you look incredibly fetching today?”

  Tillie didn’t think he was talking to her. Gina must have had the same thought because she smiled brightly before saying, “Thank you, my lord. I noticed you rowing by us earlier.”

  “I tend to go in circles.”

  “Especially when pretty ladies are serving as scenery, eh, Somerdale?” Rexton asked easily.

  “Indeed. Seems hardly fair that I have none and you have two.”

  “Care to take one off my hands?” Rexton asked. “The extra weight in the boat has tired me out.”

  She and Gina both squealed at the insult. Tillie would have reached out and smacked his shoulder if it weren’t for the fact that the action would do Gina’s reputation no great service. She would, however, have a go at him later.

  “Well . . .” Lord Somerdale suddenly looked as though he wished his boat would spring a leak, sink, and he would drown.

  “We could flip for it.” Rexton removed a coin from his pocket. “Heads you take Miss Hammersley, tails Lady Landsdowne. Truly you’d be doing me a great service.”

  “Of course, my lord. Flip away.”

  She watched the coin spinning through the air. Rexton grabbed it, slapped it onto the back of his hand, uncovered it, and showed it to Gina.

  “Heads it is,” she announced with a wide smile.

  Somerdale looked as though he’d just been invited to an audience with the queen. “Splendid!”

  “Draw in closer.” Rexton repocketed the coin, stood. The boat rocked. Tillie and Gina once again squealed but this time it was fear and not indignation that caused the exclamation. He extended his hand to Gina. “Rise up very slowly.”

  Her sister did as ordered. With only a bit more bobbing of the boat, Rexton expertly transferred her to Somerdale. “Stay within sight. Lady Landsdowne is acting as chaperone and she’ll have my head if she thinks I allowed anything untoward to happen to her sister. Just down to the next bridge. My carriage is awaiting us there.”

  “Yes, my lord. Not to worry. I’ll be on my best behavior.”

  “See that you are.” Rexton settled back onto the bench, and Tillie watched as the beaming Lord Somerdale rowed off with her sister.

  “You took quite the chance,” she said. “He’d have been horrified if he’d ended up with me.”

  “I wasn’t going to let him end up with you.”

  The words made her feel warm, special, liked.

  He flipped the coin to her. She managed to catch it quite easily. She studied one side then the other—which was identical to the first. Her eyes widened as her jaw dropped. “You cheated.”

  “Shh.” Snatching the coin from her, he winked. “Don’t say that too loudly. We wouldn’t want it to get around that I sometimes fix the outcome.”

  “But you do! All the time.”

  “Not all the time. Depends how badly I want something. And I wanted some time alone with you.”

  As though he hadn’t said something that had the power to turn her world upside down, he reached casually for the oars, dipped them back into the water, and with a powerful movement, set the boat back into motion.

  “Did you arrange for Somerdale’s timely arrival?” she asked.

  “I did not. But I’ve been looking around for someone who was expressing an interest. His sister is married to Drake, so I have it on good authority he is fascinated by American heiresses and on the hunt for a wife.”

  “I thought you were simply striving not to crash into anyone.”

  “That was a consideration. Pity people are about as I’m rather desperate to kiss you.”

  The look he gave her caused her lips and other areas he’d kissed to tingle with want and anticipation. “It would undermine our efforts regarding Gina.”

  “Indeed.” He wasn’t rowing with nearly as much effort as he had before. “You didn’t answer my question from before.”

  Slowly, she removed her glove, noting the muscles at his throat working as he swallowed. “Oh? What question was that?” She dipped her fingers into the cool water.

  “Would you stay?”

  She studied the sun-dappled water. “It’s a moot question. I shall never be fully accepted here. And you’re very much aware of that.”

  “Do you miss the balls?”

  “I’ll attend them every night when I return to New York.” Lifting her hand, she flicked water at him, taking delight in the way he ineffectually jerked back to avoid the droplets. “That’s the only answer you’ll get.”

  “Careful, Countess. Bait the tiger and you may find yourself serving as his meal tonight.”

  She flicked at him again. “Tomorrow. Per our terms I come to you the day after an outing. You didn’t escort her anywhere yesterday.”

  “I should think after last night you’d want to amend those terms.”

  She did. She wanted to amend them so she had to go to him whether or not there was an outing. “I think it best if we stick with the original agreement.”

  “Have pity on me, witch. Surely you’ll not leave me to ache all night.”

  Never had she possessed such power. It lifted her to such heights that she felt dizzy. She’d long yearned to be so wanted, so desired. “My absence tonight will ensure our time together tomorrow is all the more appreciated.”

  “I’m more than willing to show ample appreciation tonight.”

  The bubble of laughter that burst out of her had her slapping her wet hand over her mouth. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d made such a joyful noise. Lowering her hand, she stared at it as tho
ugh it might explain where the sound had come from.

  Suddenly his hand was beneath her chin, tilting up her face until their eyes met. He was leaning toward her, as though drawn, captured, and snagged by the sound. “You don’t do that often enough,” he said quietly.

  I never do it. Not in years. Not since I married. She’d catalogued everything Downie had taken from her, and somehow she’d overlooked this. She’d once been as joyful and carefree as Gina. He’d turned her into something withered and old.

  “Tomorrow night you’re going to do it again, longer, louder, if I have to tickle you from head to toe to make it happen.”

  He would, too. She was rather certain of it. But she couldn’t let him have that, not so easily. “Good luck with that. I’m not ticklish in the least.”

  His grin made her wish they had indeed altered the terms of their arrangement, that tonight she would see him. “You’ve never been tickled by me.”

  The promise in his words both terrified and excited her. Don’t, she nearly pleaded, don’t change me, don’t do anything to make me lonelier than I already am.

  But she feared it was too late to beg anything of him.

  Chapter 15

  Rexton didn’t know why he kept searching for her, why every time he spied silky black hair out of the corner of his eye, he turned hoping to see her. Tillie wasn’t at the ball. He understood her reasons, hated that they existed.

  He escorted Gina around the ballroom, enticed a few gents into signing her dance card, spoke flatteringly of her, hinted she’d make a wonderful complement to any lord’s arm—without insinuating she’d spend the remainder of her life on his. He waltzed with her, then left her in his sister’s keeping, asking Grace to see that she was partnered for other dances. Being in the overstuffed ballroom made him feel as though his waistcoat was too tight.

  Walking through the ballroom, he’d never in his life wanted to be anywhere else so badly. The odd thing was he’d be more content sitting in a parlor sipping whisky with Tillie, asking after her day, talking books, weather, or horses. Or simply enjoying her company in silence. It was strange, how often he thought of her, how he wondered what she was doing now, how he wished she was with him. He wanted her near, fully clothed, smiling up at him, her hand resting on his arm. He wasn’t quite sure when he’d begun spending as much time envisioning being with her outside his bed as in it.