An Improper Proposal (The Distinguished Rogues Book 6) (4 page)

Iris blushed and glanced down. Esme quickly captured her chin and lifted it high.

Her stare was firm. “A woman who chooses to be a mistress must be confident at all times in order to capture the right man’s notice. She must work even harder to keep his attention afterward, too, because men are sensitive creatures and easily disappointed. This missish behavior of yours will never keep a man’s interest for long.”

The clocks chimed and Esme sighed. She gathered Iris’s wrap and placed it about her shoulders. “Tomorrow you and I will talk this matter over in greater detail. However, tonight I want you to consider what you would give up. Mistresses are shunned, as you well know. I want you to think carefully every time you greet someone tonight. Will they speak to you once you become a mistress?”

She was shunned now to a fair degree, and at first that had been painful, but what she hoped for was an end to her association with society altogether. There were some ladies who were still kind despite her status. Thief or whore, losing their regard was inevitable no matter what she did. “Will
you
?”

Esme hugged her tight. “I would never abandon you. I’d never hold a lady’s considered choice over her head but many other ladies are not at all forgiving.”

Iris stared at her in shock. She needed Esme to turn her away too. She had to be put to the gutter for Esme’s own good, like week-old refuse. Without utter abandonment, Talbot might still punish her father for her failure.

When Esme drew back, the widowed sniffed. “Now we should be going, or Lord Hazelton will think we mean to snub him by our tardy arrival.”

Her heart squeezed. Hazelton was a kind man but tonight he would lose something precious to him. The set Lady Hazelton had worn to the masquerade ball last week was exactly what Talbot wanted most. Not too distinctive but valuable all the same. It could be remade and sold as smaller pieces and turn a substantial profit without anyone the wiser.

Lady Heathcote and Lord and Lady Hazelton’s houses were not far apart, so they walked the short distance escorted by three footmen. On the Hazelton front steps, after Esme’s servants had been dismissed, Esme faced her. “Did you have someone in mind for a protector?”

She blinked at Esme’s question. She’d thought merely announcing her intentions would be enough to make Esme disapprove but clearly she’d underestimated the woman. “No, I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”

Esme nodded firmly. “Good, because if you think I have strong opinions on what makes a good husband, you should expect that I also have strong opinions about the sort of man you should be making love to the first time.”

Iris blushed at the idea of giving her innocence to a stranger in this scenario. She’d never truly planned for that outcome so long as Talbot went away. Apparently, Esme’s love knew no bounds.

She straightened her shoulders and glided after her friend into the heart of the Hazelton ball with a heavy heart. The
ton
was where Esme belonged. Iris didn’t, but in a place like this she could find Talbot’s next mark.

She paused when Esme did, murmured polite greetings but engaged in few actual conversations while she studied the gems sprinkled liberally amongst London’s wealthiest residents. All the while she was aware she was tolerated merely because she was part of Esme’s circle of friends.

When Lady Ames, Esme’s closest friend, arrived it was a considerable relief to see a friendly face and one not dripping with jewels. The woman liked to talk and could be counted on to say something pithy about those who gave themselves airs about their income. She was kind and Iris had never felt beneath her.

“I have the most astonishing news,” Lady Ames gushed immediately on seeing them, but instead of sharing her confidence openly, she drew Esme aside and whispered in her ear. It was always a serious matter when she was excluded from a conversation but Iris didn’t feel slighted. If it were truly important and might involve her, Esme would likely tell her later over a cup of tea.

Left to her own devices, Iris glanced around at the gentlemen as she considered them dispassionately. As future protectors, they all had potential she supposed but choosing one seemed impossible, given the variety. Lord Avery Hill, Lady Ames’s frequent lover, was in attendance tonight and had dazzled every lady gathered around him. He winked at her but kept his distance. She’s spoken with him many times in Lady Ames’s company but it was clear he avoided women such as Iris—an apparently virtuous woman—like the plague.

Her gaze flittered about the room and rested immediately on a tall naval officer, laughing with friends. He was handsome, and cut a fine figure in his perfectly pressed captain’s uniform. A man like that would certainly protect his home well. He turned, but his gaze passed right over her head as if she was not there and then he smiled at a woman who’d just arrived. The woman didn’t see him but she wore a fascinating ruby pendant around her neck. Talbot would want that gem one day, if he’d already caught sight of the woman. If Iris remained in society, she’d have to find out who the woman was and where she resided.

Her arm was touched and then Esme’s soft laughter filled her ears. “What tasty tidbit has captured your interest tonight, my dear? I spoke to you three times and you did not answer.”

Iris leaned closer to her friend, ready with a new lie to match their earlier conversation about becoming a mistress. “Am I invisible?”

Yet that invisibility allowed her to move around the wealthiest members of the
ton
undetected to learn where they kept their valuables.

Esme’s brow furrowed. “I assure you that could not be the case, and I’ll prove it.”

She linked their arms and led her about the room. It was true many men turned their attention in their direction, even the naval officer bowed to them, but she wasn’t the least bit surprised that the bulk of interest rested on Esme’s trim figure rather than hers.

She shook her head and tried her best to affect a bitter tone. “I am merely a touchstone for someone hoping to see you. I simply don’t hold the same appeal to that sort of man and I should probably begin my search away from the
ton
for a protector. You’re likely wasting your time trying to help me, you know.”

Esme’s brow creased but she nodded to friends and continued their path through the throng to reach a quieter spot. “What sort of man are you hoping to catch the notice of?”

Astonished that Esme still imagined there was anything more to discuss about the scheme to become a mistress, she floundered but fell back on her old fears about finding a husband as inspiration. “Someone…” She gathered her courage. “Someone who doesn’t care a wit for my connections, of which I have few, or my experience, which precisely is none. Someone kind.”

“Someone wicked,” Esme countered.

A wicked man would never consider an innocent but there might be something to this new direction she’d not considered. Iris had always been a good woman, if you didn’t count her duplicitous nature, and since she’d begun living with Esme, her eyes had been opened to the possibilities around her. Esme and her friends enjoyed the attentions of men and lived by their own rules. Iris wanted to do that too but because of her father and Talbot, that had been denied her. She needed to be well and truly ruined.

To reach that point, she would require assistance.

Iris glanced across the room eagerly. “How can you tell a man is wicked just by looking at him?”

“There are many ways, my dear, and we can discuss them tomorrow.” Esme smiled. “Let me ask you this: What would you do if a wealthy man, who cares naught for connections and experience, fell madly in love with you?”

“I would suggest to his friends that he should be committed to Bedlam posthaste,” she answered immediately. Love would only lead to trouble.

“What am I to do with you, Miss Hedley? You say you wish to be bold and strike out on your own yet you constantly sell yourself short. You want an open-minded gentleman, not one of these fellows who constantly fret about how they are viewed by society. A gentleman with a healthy disregard for societies rules is just the place to begin, I should think.”

Iris had known Esme long enough to believe her sincere, and that was a problem. “You might be right.”

“Of course I am right.” Esme squeezed her arm affectionately. “What you need is a man who would move heaven and earth to give you what you require, and that, my dear, is a wedding.”

Esme suggested a fairy tale and Iris has long left such fantasies behind. “How about a protector first, and then I can chase the dream.”

“If I had my way, you should have both and more.” Esme stopped as Lord Avery approached. “Mr. Hill. Good evening to you.”

“I was just thinking of you,” he murmured in a deep, seductive voice meant usually for Lady Ames. The fact that Iris understood the intent behind his warm tone and no one thought twice about her presence just went to show that she really was invisible. She backed away, leaving them to spar with each other. Esme didn’t really approve of Lord Avery Hill’s private life. Wicked seemed an insufficient description of him.

To ensure Talbot’s men entry to the Hazelton townhouse later that night, she slipped into the hall. She took a calming breath when she found herself alone and smoothed her gown. Since the safe and gems were located in the library, she had to unlock a window in that room and return to the ballroom without being detected.

She had visited Lord and Lady Hazelton’s lovely home often with Esme in the past year so she knew her way around. She could be done in a few moments. She’d even been given leave to borrow the occasional book from Lord Hazelton’s library, which would later account for her lingering in the library if someone questioned her being there.

As soon as she turned into the hall, she spied Lord Hazelton and his wife arguing just inside the library doors. They often argued, usually about his tardiness, but Iris winced as his wife accused him of carrying on with his mistress under her own roof.

Not wishing to reveal herself or that she’d heard the accusation, she fled down a dark hall to hide before they noticed her presence. If she remembered correctly, there was a small alcove beyond the music room doorway where she might wait for their argument to end without being seen, and then she could slip back and complete her task unnoticed.

The dark music room and secluded alcove were mere steps away when she collided with a large shape crossing the darkened hall and toppled onto her backside on the carpet runner.

“Botheration,” she muttered unhappily.

A gentleman, judging by the soft grunt, rushed to her side and fumbled about, trying to find her fingers. His hands slipped over her thighs and upward until she almost couldn’t breathe from the shocking sensations. “Forgive me,” he murmured.

He caught her hands eventually and with a little tug, had her on her feet once more.

“Thank you, sir,” she said as she brushed off her skirts and shuffled into the little moonlit alcove she been headed for to assess if her gown was damaged and bring her racing heart under control. She’d never reacted to a man in such a way before and was quite unnerved by how she’d not stopped him from touching her sooner.

She put her hand to the nearest window latch and, out of habit, flipped it unlocked.

“Completely my fault,” the man assured her as he squeezed into the small space with her. “I should have been far more careful. I am so sorry.”

She spun around, praying he’d not seen her action to unlock the window. Her gaze slowly rose up his body, and given her lack of height and the excess of his, she had to crane her neck to look at his face. “For myself, I cannot imagine how I missed seeing you soon enough to get out of your way. Good evening, Lord Louth.”

He winced. “Miss Hedley? Damn. I am so sorry. Have you suffered any lasting hurt?”

Her smile widened at his earnest concern. “Only to my dignity and that is easily recovered,” she promised him. He was always so considerate and he always asked her to dance when they met at balls. It was a pity his kindness was wasted. She wasn’t worthy of his smiles.

However, her breath caught on two interesting facts.

Louth wasn’t married and, despite his kindness, was considered a rogue.

If he wasn’t married, and might never hold a ball, she did not have to worry about learning the location of his safe. She might even safely entertain the notion of securing his help toward her ruin.

He reached for her elbow, his grip firm, and the warmth from his gloved hands seeped into her bare skin. “Are you certain you are all right? A fall can be dangerous to your health.”

She even liked him enough that the idea of becoming his mistress wasn’t the least bit daunting. He would be the perfect man to snare as protector too, since his estate was far away in Lincolnshire. Could he be persuaded to set a mistress up in the country?

She let her gaze drop to his wide chest and imagined him pressed against her. She had never imagined him or anyone this way and it seemed for good reason. She set her hand against his chest to steady herself as her legs turned to butter at the idea of being his.

Esme had said she should look for a wicked man. She’d never mentioned she might think wicked thoughts about him too. “Yes, of course I am. I am perfectly well. In fact I am so pleased to see you tonight.”

He smiled warmly. “And why is that?”