Bronwyn Scott's Sexy Regency Bundle (134 page)

Scott

if that wily muse had sent him a letter. It was time to back his life. The moment he'd decided to return to England, he'd known the day would come. Now it was here. It was time to

his business with Oswalt

and reclaim his place in society.

Not far from where he sat behind the wide, scarred cherrywood desk in the room he'd appointed as his office, Julia dozed on a clean but old sofa, a book haphazardly in her lap, still open to the page she'd been reading before nodding off. No doubt the activities of the last twenty-four hours were catching up with her. She slept like someone who knew she was safe. Her breathing was deep and even. She slept, knowing she would not be disturbed or rudely awakened by an unpleasant surprise. He envied her. It had been ages since he'd been able to sleep like that.

Paine pushed back from the desk, putting aside the pile of letters he'd been going through and propped his feet up on the desk's surface. Most of it was business correspondence. The grande dames of London had ceased issuing him invitations to their social events months ago.

The only invitations he received were through his aunt's connections. London society had as much use for him as he did for it-very little. Until last night, it had been an amicable arrangement. That would have to change.

He couldn't protect Julia and effectively deal with Oswalt without the ton's support. That had been his mistake last time. He'd been rash and overbold. Even though there had been those who had applauded his efforts, he'd done it in such a way and over such a

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thing that no one could openly champion his interference. He had not understood then that there were boundaries to what people would acknowledge, no matter the motivations.

He would be more careful this time, laying his foundations, establishing his credibility, before going after Oswalt. Paine recognised this was about himself as much as it was about Julia. Oswalt had once attempted to ruin him altogether for his sense of misguided honour.

It was time to pay him back.

Julia stirred on the sofa, shifting her position in her sleep. She would have to be careful, too. She'd have to agree to stay in the house and go out only with him until they were ready to draw out Oswalt. It wouldn't do for Oswalt to learn of her location until Paine was ready.

Oswalt and her uncle had an agreement for her marriage that could not be overlooked or minimised, no matter what the status of her maidenhead.

It made Paine's blood boil to think of Oswalt laying any

of claim, even a paper one, to the beauty sleeping on his sofa. Oswalt was more than a debauched old man. He also experimented deeply in darker sexual practices that went far beyond the sacred joys Paine had initiated Julia into.

Twelve years ago, Oswalt had been an anxious man looking for a cure, any cure, for what ailed him. Paine could only make conjectures about how ravaged the man was now and how much more desperate he'd become for that cure. What the man had been willing to engage in twelve years ago had thoroughly shocked

Scott

Paine at a time when he thought he was an unshakable,
jaded youth. Paine could not bear to envision what the
man would be willing to do as his desperation grew exponentially over the years.

Julia had to be protected at all costs.

The force of that realisation was jarring. He had not felt the need to safeguard anyone to that extent for years, maybe not ever, certainly not a woman. But for whatever unexamined reasons, Julia brought out the need in abundance.

In his years abroad, he'd become a businessman, keen at assessing risk and profit. He seldom started a venture without an eye for how it would end. With Julia, it was different. The wealth of risk was there, as it was in any venture, but the profit was veiled at present. Still, with an intuition born of experience, Paine knew he had to see this through to whatever conclusion lay ahead. It wasn't enough that the passionate, curious, Miss Prentiss had to be protected. If it was, he could fob her off on people more sociably suitable than himself.

He could probably talk his Aunt Lily into taking her. No, Julia had to be protected by him. For that to happen, he had to make himself respectable again. There were two ways to respectability: money and connections. Paine had both if he chose to use them.

Paine lowered his feet and got back to work. The first was easy. He had a shipping fortune at his disposal.

From the stack of letters on his desk, there were many people in need of funds who cared far less where the money originated.

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Many of the letters were from highly placed men appealing for a private loan to tide over ageing estates and emptying coffers. That would help with the second requirement for respectability-connections.

Those connections might take more time than he had and Paine had a better card to play, if he dared. His brother was the Earl of Dursley. They had been close once. His scandal with Oswalt had put a rift in that relationship, but perhaps it could be redeemed. He'd been disappointed that his brother, Peyton, had not written to him since his return. He'd loved his two brothers dearly.

It looked like he would have to make the first move in that regard. Paine picked up his pen and began to write.

The first letter was a long-overdue missive to his brother. The second was a terse note to one of his most trusted employees, Brian Flaherty, who was charged with the mission of seeking out news of Mortimer Oswalt and whether or not the man was hunting down his errant betrothed.

'Damn it, that's the fourth one.' Paine gave his cravat a hard tug and gave up. He'd tried for twenty minutes to fashion a

d
'amour

He was supposed to

be at the hell by eight. At this rate, he wouldn't make it until midnight and all he had to show for his delay was an ignominious heap of crumpled lengths of once-pristine linen on the bed.

'Here, let me try.' Julia rose from the low bed where she sat watching him go through his
toilette.
She was dressed in his robe, fresh from a lazy bath, her hair still