“Dear God, put that down at once! I’d hate to think where that’s been, or in whom.”
He snatched it from her and put it behind his back.
“What do you mean in?”
Portia moved to the foot of the bed, and Wade did too. “It is not a stick. It’s a man’s,” he sputtered and gestured to his trousers, “you know.”
“Oh. Really?” Portia craned her neck, hoping for another peek. “I’ll have you know I have viewed Elgin’s Marbles, and I have studied depictions of male anatomy in books, but that is not at all the same.”
“Not all are.” He rolled his eyes. “This object is used for pleasure, not for study. It is said to be a replica of a certain gentleman’s cock.”
She flinched a little at the forbidden bold word but did not chide Lord Wade for using it. They got along much better when she ignored his little slips of the tongue. “Whose?”
“I’ve no idea or desire to find out.” He shook his head, scowling at the thing. “I don’t want to know, and nor should you. If I’m going to have trouble looking at the fellow, should I one day learn his identity, you certainly should be spared the embarrassment.”
Portia smiled at how flustered Wade was becoming. “You are very considerate of my feelings.”
“Flattery will not grant you the name when I learn it, either.” Lord Wade was unlike the suitors she’d had before her engagement. He questioned her decisions, warned her away from temptation, but he had never truly refused her anything.
Portia grinned even more. “Are you sure I couldn’t tempt you?”
“You could, but for anything but that name.” He drew closer suddenly and looked deeply into her eyes. For a moment, she thought he was about to kiss her…but then he looked away and the moment passed. “So about the wager. If this is the right item, I’ve been promised a share of the winnings, which must really be given to you.”
“I don’t want the proceeds of a scandalous wager for that thing.”
“Are you sure? It could be five and twenty pounds. That’s a lot of pretty ribbons for your garters.”
Portia considered the matter. She had always known Lord Wade was not wealthy, but lately she’d been hearing more whispers that Wade was desperately short of funds. Winning a wager like this would be of more help to him than to herself. As she looked upon his lean face, she wanted him to have the money. “You should keep it, and spend some of it on ribbons for your aunt’s garters.”
He grimaced a little. “You are very kind.”
They both heard a key inserted into the front door lock at the exact same moment.
They looked at each other in shock as the screech of protesting hinges echoed through the house. “Someone’s here,” she cried.
“Quickly, we have to hide.”
Portia grabbed Lord Wade’s hand and dragged him from the room. They bolted for the front of the house together where there was a tiny room with a key for the lock—the only one in the whole house that they could safely hide in.
The screech of protest from the front doors hinges shutting again concealed any sound their feet might have made. They rushed inside and locked the door tight.
The little room was not entirely empty but there was room enough for two if they stood very close to each other. A tiny window set high in the wall kept them from total darkness. Portia had once promised to hide here if she ever thought herself in peril.
Lord Wade pulled her toward the window urgently and then laced his fingers together. He lowered them so he could boost Portia up to look outside. “My father’s carriage!” she whispered in a panic.
“You cannot be found with me,” Wade whispered back, glancing round the space with wide eyes as he lowered her quietly to the floor. “There’s no way I can reach the rear door without alerting him to my presence.”
“We’ll have to wait him out. Together.”
They bumped against each other awkwardly in the small space, and then Portia had no choice but to lean against Wade, making the best of the cramped conditions. Her father’s steps grew louder and louder, coming ever closer to their hiding space.
Wade put his arms around her, and that made their predicament very much like her dream. Wade was quite the right height for this sort of thing, and she lay her head on his chest with a soft sigh. There were worse places to be trapped, after all, and Lord Wade was very familiar and comfortable.
He settled his chin on top of her head and must have had his eyes on the door, judging by the direction they were standing. If they stayed quiet and still, they might remain completely undetected until father left.
Portia jumped as her father’s voice rang out. “As you can see, the place is fully furnished.”
Lord Wade smoothed his hand down her back. She found his touch highly distracting, and quite lovely, too.
“More than fully,” Montrose complained, and it seemed he was on the other side of their door. Portia held her breath, trembling in Lord Wade’s arms.
“Ample choice then in what is kept or thrown out,” Father insisted with a laugh. “We are not sentimental about any of it, so feel free to expel anything you do not need to the street.”
Wade seemed to press closer to her body, then his lips grazed her ear. “What is going on?”
She wriggled a hand free of his waist and lifted her finger to his lips to silence him. She’d explain later, after father had gone on his way home with Montrose.
He nodded, and his warm breath on her fingers sent a shiver rushing though her. She let her fingers scrape lightly over his chin as she lowered her hand, and then rested it over his heart. They continued to listen in silence as father extolled the virtues of Soho Square and the house to Montrose.
She caught Wade’s eye as Father’s voice grew softer, coming from further away and when she could not hear either of them she took a deep breath. “Father will lease the house soon.”
Wade shook his head. “But I thought you were going to keep it as is.”
“A few things must go.”
“I suppose,” he murmured dubiously.
“Montrose has no real interest in the house,” she confided as her father’s steps returned suddenly, thudding loudly past their tiny hideaway. At last, the front door opened again with a terrible shriek, and then another as it closed.
When all was quiet again, she risked another few words. “They’ve made a bargain to begin a lease now, and then Lord Montrose’s man will take over the management of the place once I’m married to him.”
“I’m surprised Montrose didn’t want to sell it.”
“He did, but it cannot be done. My uncle’s will forbids any sale.”
“Ah,” Wade said as he sighed. He pulled away from her, jumped up to grab the window sill and pulled himself up. Portia was impressed by his unexpected display of strength and agility. He hung there, feet dangling, for a long moment before he dropped lightly to the floor. “Still on the pavement outside. So the house cannot be sold, but you cannot live here.”
“Unfortunately not. I wish there was some way to save everything, though.”
Wade looked about the room. “Perhaps not everything must be hoarded. A family would need some of the space to live in, to grow.”
“True, but…”
He took another peek outside then dusted off his hands. “They’re gone,” Wade said in a normal tone, and then sighed. “That was damn lucky for us.”
Being caught alone with a gentleman, being compromised, was something that Portia had done her best to avoid. Yet looking at Lord Wade now, she realized that if it had been him, she might not have cared so much. A few months ago, she had felt differently.
He smiled suddenly. “So, tell me more about your uncle’s unusual will.”
“It is not that unusual. Uncle Oliver died without a son or other male relative living, so he drew up his will to leave his money to my mother and me and to my sister. This house forms part of a trust for my son when I have one, and it cannot be sold until he has reached his
majority. There are similar provisions for Lavinia, but her property is a small estate in the country.”
Lord Wade nodded, his expression speculative. “A forward-thinking man. I never would have guessed. Would that my own family had given a thought to the future and made sensible decisions,” he muttered.
Lord Wade fished the key out of his pocket and squeezed past her to reach the door.
Portia watched in silence as he unlocked it but to be honest, she rather thought she’d like to stay right where she was. It had been nice being held, and Lord Wade was always protective. She also liked that he was always interested in her family and her opinion too. “My father would disagree with you about the practicality of leaving property to females. He and Mother argue about what must be done with this place, and the other, all the time and never decide on anything in the end.”
He eased the door open and peeked outside. “It really cannot be sold? That must have put a damper on Montrose’s plans for the money he might have made from the sale.”
“I suppose,” she said evasively. “I don’t know what might have been discussed when he learned of the restriction.”
“Or what plans he’s already made to spend your dowry, too, I suspect. He’s always been a secretive bastard,” Wade complained.
“You’re a lot like him in that respect,” Portia noted, thinking about his lack of funds and the way he avoided talking about the matter. He never acted like he had any concerns.
Wade said nothing as he stepped outside.
She sighed, a little bit ashamed of herself that she would really rather stay here—alone with Lord Wade than face the future. She’d begun to worry about Wade and what the future had in store for him and his aunt too.
Wade reappeared a few moments later, his expression rather curious as he gazed at her from the door. “Your father and betrothed have gone. Are you coming out of there or do you plan to spend the night?”
“Oh, yes. I’m coming.” Portia exhaled and walked out. Lord Wade backed up a few steps as Portia brushed off her skirts and looked around. “I can’t bear the thought of strangers living in my house.”
He nodded. “Perhaps a friend of yours might be interested in the lease.”
“My friends know that I want this place for my own. That cannot happen unless I marry.”
“And even then, you could not live here as a duchess. It would embarrass Montrose.” Lord Wade grinned widely. The prospect of Montrose put out must have appealed to him greatly.
“What really happened between you?”
“The usual. A few harmless pranks and we became sworn enemies.” Wade turned away, glancing up at the leadlight window above the stairs. “I want for you to live here. I know how much you adore the place, creaky front door and all.”
“Don’t forget the murderous wine cellar,” she added. “I’ve not been brave enough to venture down there on my own since you were here last.
“An incentive to give up drink, that one,” he said, and then chuckled. “I’d better not bring my aunt here again. She enjoyed the contents of that wine cellar a bit too much.”
“She was a perfect guest and chaperone.” Portia brushed her hand over his sleeve. “I suspect it would be impossible to convince anyone to move into this ramshackle place. No one would want to live among this chaos.”
“It does have a certain unique charm,” Wade noted, and then scowled. “He’s always had a stick up his backside about everything, especially where he belongs and what he can do. Personally, I like the place.”
That pleased her. At least one gentleman did. “Tell me what really set you apart and perhaps I can find a way to smooth things over.”
“Leave it alone, Portia.”
“I cannot believe anyone could remain that cross with you for so long, no matter what you did to them.”
A strange smile spread over his face. “What makes you think I was at fault?”
“Well…”
“I found fault with the way he treats those with less, and said so out loud,” he told her. “Did he stand up and challenge me? No, he sent his friends to do his dirty work for him the next day. Luckily, Sullivan was with me, or the outcome would have been me beaten and bloody, instead of a fair fight.”
He turned away. Portia did not like the sound of that, though she didn’t believe Wade would lie to her. Montrose had demanded to know with whom she’d danced, and maybe it was a good thing for them that she’d kept quiet. Admittedly, she’d only had occasion to recommend an introduction to Sir John, but she’d planned to make her regular partners known to Montrose soon.
She rushed to catch up to Lord Wade. “I can accept that he might act superior sometimes,” she agreed reluctantly.
Wade stopped and looked down upon her with a startled smile. “Always,” he warned. “Keep watching him, and you’ll see what I mean eventually.” He looked about the place. “It will be a shame to know all this history is gone, and I am sorry that I cannot prevent it from happening now,” Wade told her. “You belong here.”
“Thank you for saying so.” She smiled, pushing aside her troubles. “Shouldn’t you be on your way to collect your share of that wager?”
“Indeed I should.” He brandished the phallus, pulled a face as he realized what he’d done, and jerked his arm down to hide the thing behind his back.
Portia laughed. “I suppose I shall have to get used to such matters soon.”
His cheeks darkened. “But not with me standing in the same room.”
“I should hope not. That would be a little crowded.” She watched Lord Wade fidget. “I swear you seem more embarrassed than I am.”
“I might be, too, but for different reasons. I had better go,” he said. But he didn’t move.
“You might want to wrap that.”
“Good idea. I can’t just waltz into an earl’s house swinging this dreadful thing about.”
Portia giggled. “So the wager involves an earl, does it?”
“Shh,” he warned as he tugged a small dustcover off a vase and wrapped it up carefully. He glanced her way, and then held out his empty hand.
Portia shook it firmly. “Good luck. Oh, and Wade, if it isn’t the item being sought, throw it away or burn it as soon as possible. I don’t wish to ever see that again.”
He drew her into him and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Thank you,” he whispered before darting off into the shadowy staircase to the kitchens.
Portia slowly straightened her toes, which had curled in her slippers when Lord Wade kissed her cheek. A good kiss tended to cause havoc with her senses, but until recently, she’d never suspected Lord Wade would be good at delivering one.
The kitchen door closed with a firm boom, and Portia sighed. She sat down on the cluttered staircase amid more boxes and put her chin in her hand. Her maid would return soon, and then it was back to being the future Duchess of Montrose, whatever that might mean.
For now, though, her thoughts traveled with Lord Wade as he headed toward an earl’s home to win a share of a scandalous wager. It was really very sad that he must be so desperate for coin that he would traipse across Mayfair carrying a replica of a man’s private parts. She’d always assumed Wade a fortune hunter, but his ambitions had just been revealed as far more modest than most gentlemen who called upon her.
To prove the point to herself, she put her hand out and picked up a silver butter knife from a nearby box—one of two dozen boxed-up sets to be found in all parts of the house. Silver went missing from grand houses all the time, and there had been many occasions when Lord Wade might have just taken something of value without asking. He knew where the key was hidden, but he’d never betrayed her trust.
“I misjudged him so badly,” she whispered to herself in stunned surprise. “It’s much too late to wonder if he’ll ever kiss me…even if I think he should have by now.”
Chapter 11
Julian laid the wrapped bundle on Lord Windermere’s desk and stepped back in a hurry. He was extremely anxiou
s to be rid of the object. Carrying around what was supposed to be an exact replica of another gentleman’s cock was awkward, to say the least. It was very well done—lifelike. “As we discussed the other day.”
Windermere grinned and unwrapped the object. He seemed to have no hesitation in inspecting it from end to end. “This is the one.”
Julian frowned. “How could you be so sure?”
Windermere flipped it around and showed him the base. “See these little marks that go round half the end but no farther? He marked it himself as a way to keep score of his conquests.”
Julian grimaced. “Charming.”
“He isn’t.” He glanced up, his expression excited. “I have been waiting so long for this moment. I cannot thank you enough. I assume you had no problems convincing Miss Hayes to part with it when you met with her.”
“I did not meet with her.”
Windermere stood back with a grin. “I think you did. How else might you have gotten into that house so easily? Others have been trying since Oliver passed away, but Hayes always refuses. And the girl is to inherit the house upon her marriage. Besides that, there’s a long-running rumor floating around that you have a soft spot for Miss Hayes. I very much doubt you would steal from someone you cared about, so it follows that she must be a willing accomplice.”
Julian’s cheeks warmed with discomfort. “She is engaged.”
“Yes, yes. My wife believes Miss Hayes made the worst choice she could,” Windermere remarked with a shrug. “This certainly proves she’s not a lost cause.”
Julian turned away so he did not reveal his agreement with that assessment. “I trust you will not hold her marriage against her in the future.”
“I will not, but others might. Montrose isn’t popular and has already thrown his weight around, putting noses out of joint left and right. At least now, we might knock him down a peg or two. Teach him some respect.”
Lord of Sin Page 11
