by Bobbi Smith
"But you promised me that the money was safely invested! You said it was a sure thing! You said we couldn't lose!"
Luther shrugged his broad shoulders. "It was a rare misfortune, but these things do happen."
"But this is impossible..." Philip groaned, practically falling into a straight-backed chair. "Every cent of Jordan's and my inheritance was tied up with you. You said..."
"I know what I said, Philip, and I meant it. But sometimes circumstances arise that are beyond my control."
"There's nothing that can be done?"
"Nothing."
"God!" In despair, Philip leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees to rest his head in his hands. "What am I going to do? How are we going to live? What will I tell my sister?"
"You'll have to tell her the truth, I'm afraid."
"I cant do that! She trusted my judgment in this, and now I've lost everything..." Philip was frantic.
Though he kept his emotions well disguised, Luther was almost crowing with delight at the youth's predicament. He'd been waiting for this moment for almost a year! At last, he was going to get what he wanted...
Luther's initial reaction to the Sea Demon's lost cargo had been fury, but he'd quickly changed his mind when he realized how he could turn the situation to his advantage. He'd been lusting after Philip's sister, Jordan, ever since he'd first set eyes upon her. She had been only seventeen when their parents had died, and she and Philip had come to him for help in investing their inheritance. Jordan had been entrancing then, a nubile young girl in the bud of womanhood, but now, a year later, he found her absolutely mesmerizing. Her eyes were of the deepest green, her pale blond hair was like spun moonlight, and Luther longed to run his hands through it. Her slender yet very womanly curves had haunted his dreams many a night, and his desire for her had pyramided ever since their initial encounter. He wanted her as he'd never wanted another, and soon he was going to have her!
That Jordan was always coolly distant to him whenever they were together suddenly no longer rankled Luther. Now that she was in terrible financial straits, he was confident that she would see reason. Soon, he thought... soon she would be in his power.
Philip was despondent. Their situation was dire. "You're talking about our future. All of our hopes and dreams are in ruins... We're destitute... We have nothing left... nothing..."
Seeing how frantic he was, Luther knew it was time to make his suggestion. "There is one idea you might want to consider," he began, his hard blue eyes trained on Philip's face as he prepared to read fads reaction to the proposition he was about to offer. "An alternative that just might solve your problem."
The younger man brightened immediately with the advent of some hope. "I'll consider anything at this point. What do you have in mind?"
"Your sister..."
"Jordan? What about her?" He was honestly puzzled by Luther's bringing her into the conversation.
As unworldly as the boy was, Luther knew there was no point in being subtle about his goal to have her in his bed. "I will see your every financial need met if she will agree to become my mistress."
Philip was speechless. He stared at Luther. Jordan, Luther's mistress? His light o' love? His whore? Philip stiffened, his pride surging forth. NEVER! He would starve to death before he'd allow his sister to be degraded that way.
With as much dignity as he could muster, he answered, "Never."
"I'm afraid you may not have much to say about it.
There was a certain steel in his voice that Philip had never heard before, and suddenly he saw Luther in a new light. Jordan had cautioned him from the beginning that she mistrusted this man, but he'd ignored her. He'd foolishly forged ahead, and during the past year he'd given this man more and more of their money until everything they had was tied up with his firm.
"What do you mean?" Philip looked Luther straight in the eye and was shocked by the coldness he saw there.
"How do you feel about going to prison?" Luther unlocked the center drawer of his desk and drew out a folder. He sorted through the papers and then pulled out two documents he'd been looking forone, the ownership paper of the Sea Demon, the other, the contract for the slaves.
He had always known it would pay off to have the ownership papers to the Sea Demon forged to list Philip and Jordan St. James instead of himself as the owners. This way, were the boat to be caught in the act of slaving, Philip and Jordan would have been the ones to answer to the law. Luther prided himself on never taking unnecessary risks. It pleased him enormously that he could now make even better use of this little bit of intrigue.
"What are you talking about?" Philip challenged.
"I think this will clear everything up for you." He handed him first the document on the Sea Demon, then the contract. "Once you peruse those, I believe you'll understand the certain... um... delicacy of your position."
"You invested our money in slave smuggling?" Philip was shocked. Radcliffe and Associates had come recommended to him as a highly reputable firm. He'd trusted Luther, and now...
"Yes, and should the authorities discover that you're the owner of such a vessel... Well, needless to say, slave smuggling has been illegal for years. While it is generally a highly profitable venture, there are also major risks involved. Risks like imprisonment for shipowners, and very high fines..."
"Dear God..."
"I'm afraid God has little to do with this. This is business, Philip, strictly business," Luther said with satisfaction as he closed his trap. He took the papers from Philip and carefully returned them to the folder. "Do you find my offer more acceptable now?"
"I don't know ...I can't think ...I have to talk to Jordan..."
"Of course. Well, I tell you what. Why don't you do just that? Speak with your beautiful sister about my offer and see what she has to say."
"Yes.. .yes, I will..." Philip turned and headed blindly toward the office door.
"Philip?" Luther said his name in such a way that he stopped and looked back. He waited until he was sure he had his full attention before he continued, "I hate to think that I might have to force this issue. It would be much nicer if things were handled in a more amiable way."
He nodded in terrible understanding and started out again.
"Let me hear from you soon. I'll be waiting for your decision."
At the sound of his voice, Philip paused as icicles of fear raced up and down his spine. Then, straightening his shoulders, he rushed from the room. Luther was smiling triumphantly as he watched him go. He rubbed his hands together as he began to imagine having Jordan St. James all to himself. It was a very pleasant daydream.
Philip strode aimlessly along the streets of London, reviewing his situation over and over again as he walked. He was desperate to find a way out, but he feared they were trapped. Their money was gone, and they were helpless before the power Luther had over them.
Despite the feeling of hopelessness that enveloped Philip, a righteous anger sparked and grew deep within him. Luther's "suggestion" that Jordan become his mistress was nothing more than extortion. There was no way he would give into it. He would go to jail before he would subject his lovely sister to such degradation. She was a St. James, a member of a fine, old family, not some common street slut.
Philip realized now just how right Jordan had always been about Radcliffe. It wasn't the first time her instinctive reaction to someone had been proved correct. He felt shamed that he hadn't had the good sense to listen to her. They'd had several meetings with Luther and some of his associates at the office, and they'd also dined with him privately on occasion. After each of these encounters, Jordan had expressed her disquiet about the man, but he'd been so impressed with him that he'd discounted her opinion. Now he wished he hadn't. Now he knew why she'd disliked him so. As a woman, she'd been able to sense the innate ugliness in him.
Regret filled Philip. He hated the fact that he had to expose Jordan to the depths of Luther's sordid nature, but there was no way he could avoid telling her the complete
truth. As much as he wanted to protect her, he had to be forthright with her. They had to decide together what they were going to do next now that their future had been so undeniably changed.
Philip grew determined. Looking up, he was startled to find that he was standing before their townhouse, his troubled walk through the city having brought him home.
Home ...A moment of sadness overwhelmed him as he thought about how greatly their lives had changed since their parents' deaths the year before. He and Jordan had been raised in a home overflowing with love. Then, suddenly, that life was gone, destroyed by a freak carriage accident that had robbed them of their cherished mother and father. He'd been a shy youth, filled with dreams of books and studies, when he'd suddenly been thrust into the role of protector and provider for his sister. As he mounted the steps to enter the house, he knew that thus far he'd failed miserably, but he vowed to try to figure a way out of it.
Jordan had been in the parlor reading when she heard her brother come in the front door. She adored Philip and hurried forth to meet him, eager to find out how his meeting with the despicable Luther Radcliffe had gone.
"Philip! How did it go?" Jordan got no further and her voice trailed off as she caught sight of his face. There had only been one other time in their lives when she'd seen him look this grim, and that had been when their parents had died. She knew something had to be seriously wrong. "What happened?"
Philip searched to find the right words so he could gently relate the horrible truth, but there was no easy way. He was going to have to be frank, no matter how difficult. There could be no holding back. Jordan was too perceptive for him to even try. "I think we'd better sit down in the parlor while we talk."
"Why?" She nervously gripped his arm as he led her back into the pleasant, airy sitting room.
Philip sat down on the sofa, and she sat next to him. Jordan could feel the tension emanating from him.
"Tell me what happened just now, Philip. What was so important that Radcliffe had to summon you to his office?" Her tone was unyielding, letting him know that she wanted, demanded, the whole story.
"There's some bad news, Jordan," he began, and once he'd started to explain the words just tumbled forth. He quickly told her that their investment had been lost, and that to all intents and purposes, they were penniless.
"But how? I thought..."
"I don't know how. It's just gone, that's all." His shoulders slumped in defeat. "It doesn't really matter any more, anyway."
"You can't mean that?! Of course it matters!" Jordan's temper flared. "Surely there must be some mistake. Radcliffe couldn't have lost all of our funds!"
"Well, he did, and there's more.. .there's something even worse I have to tell you," he said miserably.
"Worse? How can anything be worse than the loss of all our money? You did argue with him, didn't you? He promised us that our investment would be safe with him!"
"I know ...I know." Philip swallowed nervously, not sure how to broach the subject with any delicacy. "I tried to argue with him, Jordan, but then he showed me the papers..."
Seeing his tormented expression, she couldn't imagine what he was talking about. "What papers?"
"Our money was tied up in a slave smuggling operation. Our names are on all the documents."
Jordan whispered, shocked, "But that's against the law..."
"Yes."
"Well, we certainly didn't know about it. How can we be guilty of something we didn't know about?"
"It's all legal... signed, sealed, and delivered, and Luther's threatened to expose us to the authorities unless..."
"Unless what? You're not making any sense. Luther lost all our money in an illegal venture, and now you're telling me that he's going to use that against us when he's the one who set the whole thing up in the first place? Why? What in world would he have to gain? He's already taken our inheritance... We've nothing left..."
"There's something else he's after, Jordan," her brother told her solemnly.
"What?" Their personal wealth was so limited, their prized possessions so few, that she couldn't imagine what the rich businessman wanted.
"He wants you?"
"Me?!"
"I was beside myself when I found out the money was gone. I couldn't believe everything was lost. I didn't know how we were going to live. That's when Luther made his `suggestion.' He offered to take care of our every financial need-if you'd agree to become his mistress."
Jordan went deathly still. She'd always known there was something disgusting about Luther Radcliffe, and now she knew what it was. The man was an amoral opportunist.
"What did you tell him?" she asked in a hoarse, frightened voice.
Philip was offended that she'd even ask. "I told him no, of course! I would never let anyone take advantage of you that way."
Relief swept through her, but fear soon followed as he continued.
"That's when he threated to turn those papers over to the authorities..."
"I have to talk to him," she insisted. Innocent that she was, she thought that once she told him she didn't love him, then he wouldn't want her as his mistress any longer.
"No! I don't want you to go anywhere near that man," Philip said sternly as he grabbed her wrist to stop her from doing anything foolish.
"If he cares for me as you say he does, then he might listen to me. Perhaps if I just go see him..."
"Jordan!" her brother cut her off sharply. "I never said he cared for you, damn it! I said he wants you as his mistress! If he cared for you at all he wouldn't want to degrade you this way! You stay as far away from him as you can. He's dangerous."
Philip had never spoken to her so forcefully be fore, and she stared at him in complete surprise.
"Look," he continued, taking her by the shoulders, his eyes boring into hers, "we'll figure a way out of this, just like we always have ever since we were little. It'll just take some time to think it through, that's all."
Jordan wanted to ask him just how much time he thought Luther would give them, but seeing the worry in his expression she quietly acquiesced. "I'm sure you're right."
"Jordan?" Philip said her name earnestly. "I swear to you that I'll willingly go to prison before I'll let anything happen to you."
Her heart swelled with love for him. Philip was so dear to her, so very special in her life. She wondered how she would ever have survived this last year without his constant support and love. She knew in that moment that as long as they had each other, they'd be fine. They would make it.
"Let's just hope it doesn't come to that. I'm sure there's something we can do. We just have to think of what it is." She patted his hand reassuringly.
Philip gave her a crooked smile. "And we will. I know it."
Later that afternoon Jordan pleaded the need for a little rest. She went to her room, but she had absolutely no intention of lying down. Sleep was the last thing on her mind. She had to sort through this whole mess and try to come up with some kind of solution.
"Luther's mistress," Jordan said it out loud to herself, slowly, incredulously, and a shiver of revulsion shook her.
There weren't many fates she considered worse than death, but being Radcliffe's mistress was one of them. Despite the fact that he was a handsome, wealthy man, there was something about him that made her flesh crawl. Still, she knew the only way she would be able to solve this was by facing him down herself.
Jordan knew Philip didn't want her to go anywhere near Luther, and she could understand why. But what they wanted really didn't matter much right now. She was intimately involved in this situation, and she had to do something to help.
Jordan made her decision. She would wait until evening, then tell her brother that she was retiring early. Once he believed her to be in bed asleep, she would sneak out of the house and go see Luther at his home. She figured it would be better to talk with him there, in more private surroundings, than in the middle of his offices where others might overhear them.
Feeling quite
good about her plan of action, she Anally did stretch out on her bed, but sleep would not come. Instead, her thoughts were flying as she tried to anticipate the events of the evening ahead.
Jordan bade Philip good night shortly after they finished eating dinner. Retreating to her room, she waited quite a while before she began to dress for her secret outing. She took great care in the selection of the gown she would wear, finally deciding on her dark green walking suit. It bespoke modesty, and that was the exact impression she wanted to give. She didn't want Luther to think she was there because she was accepting his proposition. This was to be a business call, nothing more.
Keeping that idea in mind, Jordan braided her nearly waist-length, pale hair and twisted it into a tight knot at the nape of her neck. She thought the style very severe and hoped it made her look matronly. Little did she know that the actual affect was very much to the contrary. The sleek chignon served to accentuate her perfect bone structure and highlight her flawless complexion. She gave the appearance of being a sophisticated woman of the world, one well aware of the power she could wield over men.
Jordan quietly escaped her room and made her way downstairs. After wrapping her dark cloak about her to ward off the evening chill, she slipped away from the house. She hired a hansom cab at the first opportunity, and after giving him directions to Luther's residence near Belgrave Square, she settled back to nervously wait out the ride through the dark city streets.
They reached their destination far too quickly to suit Jordan. As Luther's imposing mansion came into view, she suddenly found herself wishing that the driver would keep going and never stop. Still, she realized that no matter how she felt about the man, she had to make this attempt to speak with him. Everything depended on it.
When the cab drew to a stop, Jordan descended and found herself staring up at the house. The three story structure was big and intimidating, and bespoke of wealth and power. Though lights blazed brightly in the mullioned windows, she felt no warmth for or attraction to the building. To Jordan, it appeared as cold and as distasteful as its owner.
