Candice Hern (8 page)

“You, sir, are incorrigible,” she said, still smiling.

“So I’ve been told. Are we agreed on the stakes, then?”

“I suppose so. Since I intend to win, it hardly matters. Now I suppose we must wait while you jot it all down in your little book?”

“Let us dispense with formalities this time, shall we? A simple handshake will seal the bargain.”

He held out his hand and Edwina gripped it like
a man, as he ought to have expected. But he turned over their clasped hands and brought hers to his lips.

“Here’s to victory,” he said.

“A
bee!” he shouted.

Edwina recoiled as Anthony’s hands ?uttered in front of her face. She gripped the reins tightly.

“There he is. Look out!” Suddenly Anthony’s hands were brushing at her bonnet, and before she knew what had happened, the bonnet had been knocked askew and covered her face. She couldn’t see!

She involuntarily jerked on the reins and felt the team ?dget uncertainly. She reached up with one hand to adjust the bonnet, but the team tugged at the reins and veered left, and she felt control slip away. Without a clue where she was going, but fairly certain it was not toward the speci?ed goal,
she slowly pulled back and brought the team to a halt.

“You wretched man.” She reached up to set her bonnet to rights and felt Anthony take the reins away so she could use both hands. She untied the ribbon beneath her chin and pushed the bonnet back into place. “You did that on purpose.”

“Did what? Set a bee on you?”

“I never saw a bee. You made that up to distract me so I would lose.”

She saw now that the phaeton had veered off the path and come to a halt some yards before the group of trees that had marked her goal. She had indeed lost the wager. And it was all his fault.

“I assure you, madam, there was a bee. It was no doubt attracted to the flowers on your bonnet. I only meant to brush him away and keep you out of harm’s way.”

“The flowers on my bonnet are silk, sir, and of no interest to bees. You tricked me into losing.”

“Now, why do those words sound so familiar? Wait a moment. It’s coming back to me. Ah, yes. I believe I spoke those very words to you when you pulled that stunt with the Minerva.”

“I did not trick you, sir. I outmaneuvered you. This case is not at all the same. You had to resort to clumsy efforts to blind me so that I would lose.” She struggled to conceal a smile. “It does not seem at all sporting to me and shows no finesse whatsoever.”

All of a sudden, the notion that he would go to
such lengths, such obvious trickery, to win her stocking caused her to give in to an irrepressible gurgle of mirth. She began to laugh.

His laughter joined hers, and it was a rich, melodious sound, full of pleasure. His gray eyes turned silvery, twinkling with merriment, and crinkled up at the corners in fans of tiny creases. He had the look of a man who laughed frequently, who took great delight in the unexpected little joys of life.

“I suppose you’ll be wanting my stocking now,” she said.

“I should think it is the least you could do after I saved you from a vicious bee attack.”

“Vicious, was he?”

“Huge. Ferocious. I’ve never seen such a bee in all my life.”

“I do not doubt it. Well, I am not going to argue with you. You will see that I can be a gracious loser despite the unfair tactics you employed. I still get my additional editor, do I not?”

“You do. And I will have your stocking now, madam.”

“Here? Now?”

“Why not? No one is around. We are quite off the usual paths. I will have it now, if you please.”

“Oh, you are the
most
provoking man.”

Edwina reached down and pulled her full skirts over the knee farthest from his view.

“The other one, if you please.”

She ought to have known that ploy would not
work. She readjusted her skirts, then slowly raised them over her other knee. He gave the tiniest intake of breath and she looked up to see his gaze fixed on her exposed leg.

And all at once she felt rather exhilarated, and rather daring. A little thrill ran through her that she could entice, even seduce if she wanted to, this exceedingly attractive man. It had been a very long time since Edwina had allowed a man’s interest to interest her. She had almost forgotten how enjoyable a little mild flirtation could be. It made her feel young again. Invigorated.

She was going to have a bit of highly improper fun with Anthony Morehouse.

She bent down and removed her shoe, then hitched her skirt up slightly above the knee to reveal her garter. She made a slow business of untying it, then held it up and allowed the ends to flutter softly in the breeze.

“I’ll take that as well,” Anthony said.

Edwina looked at him. “That was not part of our bargain, sir.”

“But you will have no need of it now, will you?” He held out a hand, palm up.

Edwina sighed. It was one of her favorite garters, but she dropped the length of embroidered silk ribbon into his hand. His fingers curled around it.

“You collect them as trophies, no doubt.”

He smiled and said, “Proceed, if you please.”

She began to roll down the top of the stocking
over her knee. Fortunately, she had worn a good silk pair today, pale pink with yellow clocking. Unfortunately, they had been quite expensive.

She watched Anthony as she slowly, slowly pulled down the stocking and exposed her bare leg to the cool afternoon air. His eyes never left her leg, and the look in them was so warm it was almost as though he physically touched her. She gave an involuntary shudder.

She continued the slow, deliberate peeling away of the silk, stroking one hand down the length of her leg to protect the delicate fabric. Anthony was breathing through his mouth, and the sound of it had become quick and slightly hoarse. Edwina smiled.

When she reached her foot, she almost instinctively hoisted it onto her knee as she did each night in the privacy of her bed chamber when removing her stockings. But that would not do here. Instead, she merely raised up onto her toes, pushed the stocking over her foot, and pulled it off. She allowed the pink silk to brush along the length of her leg as she pulled it up into her lap.

The cold floor beneath her bare foot jolted her from seductive game playing and back to earth. Lord, what had gotten into her? She quickly dropped her skirts over her knee and worked her foot back into its slipper. She looked up at Anthony and hoped to heaven she was not blushing. She
crumpled the stocking into a ball and placed it into his outstretched hand.

He locked his gaze with hers while he brought the silk first to his nose, then to his lips. His mouth cocked up into a lopsided grin and he stuffed the stocking into an inside coat pocket, where she could see the embroidered ribbon of her favorite garter peeking out.

“Thank you,” he said. “That was certainly worth doing battle with a vicious bee.”

“I sincerely hope you will not be parading my undergarments about in public, sir, flaunting them before your friends in some sort of victorious display.”

He lowered his voice to a seductive croon. “I have no intention of sharing them with anyone, I assure you.”

He flicked the reins and put the restless horses at a slow trot as he steered the phaeton back onto the path.

“And you shall have your new editorial assistant within the week,” he said in a more normal voice. “I know just the woman to help bring the
Cabinet
up to its full potential.”

The tiniest prickling of alarm danced down her spine. “Who is she?”

“A good friend. Her name is Flora Gallagher.”

Edwina’s breath caught. “Flora Gallagher?
The
Flora Gallagher?”

“I am not aware of another woman by that name,
so I can only assume she is
the
Flora Gallagher.”

“Well then, she will not be working for my magazine.”

“Ah, but you are forgetting two very important points, my dear. In the first place, it is
my
magazine. In the second place, you have just lost the right to choose your own assistant.”

“Then I shall have no assistant at all, thank you very much. I would rather work twice as hard than have that…that woman on my staff.”

“Too late to change the game now, Edwina. You shall have a new assistant, and she shall be of my choosing. I choose Flora.”

“You go too far, sir. That woman has no place in a respectable concern. Imagine if readers became aware that the notorious Mrs. Gallagher was associated with the
Cabinet
. We would be flooded with cancelled subscriptions. Or perhaps that is your plan? A neat maneuver to insure that I lose the wager for the
Cabinet
?”

“I am surprised at you, Edwina. I thought a woman of your intelligence and social conscience would not be so quick to judge the choices of one less fortunate than herself.”

“Less fortunate? She is a notorious courtesan with a string of wealthy and titled lovers.”

Including Anthony?

“And she chose that life rather than starve on the streets,” he said. “Unlike you, she was not born to a position where many choices were available to
her. I should think you would be pleased to help lift up such a woman into more respectable employment. I thought you were the champion of the oppressed. Where is your compassion now?”

Damn the man. He knew exactly how to play upon her weakest nature. She did indeed deplore the wretched life some women were forced to lead. She could not tell Anthony, but among other activities sponsored by the siphoned profits of the
Cabinet
was a school where such girls and women were taught to read and write, and were provided with rudimentary skills that would help them find honest employment.

But Flora Gallagher?

“You cannot tell me,” she said, “that whatever small salary we may be able to pay her would compensate for…for all that other income she is accustomed to?”

“As a matter of fact,” he said, “Flora has retired. She was unfortunately engaged in a profession that is not kind to women of a certain age. So she has removed herself from the lists, as it were, but not without first insuring that her future is secure. If I am not mistaken, Flora is quite a wealthy woman.”

“Then why on earth would she be interested in working for a ladies’ magazine?”

“Because she is bored. She has told me again and again that she wants something to do with her time, something useful. The
Cabinet
will be perfect for her. She can be your fashion editor.”

“Oh, no. Not fashion again.”

“Flora has a keen eye for fashion and is on intimate terms with all the best dressmakers in town. Her fashion advice could draw in new readers. New
subscribers
.”

Damn it all, he was manipulating her again. He knew very well that she was having trouble increasing subscription numbers.

“As I have suggested before,” he said, “a single fashion plate in each issue is not enough. Women want to read about trends, new fabrics, new accessories, new ways to dress their hair. Flora could handle all of that. In fact, she would probably enjoy nothing better.”

“You are determined to undermine all my hard work, aren’t you? All the years I’ve spent making the
Cabinet
into a fine publication with good, solid, rational content. And you want to destroy it by expanding frivolous topics that appeal to a woman’s vanity rather than her intellect.”

“You already include ‘frivolous’ topics. You have the small fashion section. You have sentimental poetry and romantic fiction. You have the Busybody, and I cannot imagine anything more frivolous than the advice she hands out. What difference would a bit more fashion make?”

“A big difference. It would tilt the magazine into a direction I have strenuously avoided. It would compromise all my objectives.”

“It would bring you more subscribers.”

“I don’t care. It would not be worth it.”

He gave her a sideways glance. “If you will not accept Flora, if you default on our agreement, then I suppose I shall simply have to be allowed to examine those account books you are so careful to keep from me.”

She gave a quick intake of breath. “The account books?”

“It’s that or Flora. If you default on one wager, then I should be allowed to default on another.”

Edwina sighed in defeat. He had her, the devil. “All right. I will agree to bringing in Flora Gallagher. But under extreme protest.”

He turned to her and smiled. “Good decision. Besides, I will wager you’ll like Flora.”

“Don’t bet on it.”

“He backed me into a corner, Pru. I had no choice.”

“But…
Mrs. Gallagher
? Oh, my.”

Prudence’s blue eyes had grown round as saucers. She had said little more than “Oh, my,” since Edwina had told her of the new “fashion editor” who would be coming by that morning with Anthony. She was clearly awed by the very idea of Mrs. Gallagher. Shy little Prudence would have no occasion to run into a woman like that.

The odd thing was, Prudence seemed not to be
outraged at having that woman thrust into their business. On the contrary, she seemed fascinated. Even a little excited.

“Well, we must make the best of it,” Edwina said. “Mr. Morehouse is determined to foist a fashion editor upon us, and so we must learn to work with…that woman. But we must also be as discreet as possible about it. I will not have it bandied about that a notorious member of the demimonde is associated with the
Cabinet
.”

“She
is
rather scandalous, is she not?”

“Indeed.”

“She has been associated with quite a few gentlemen, I think.”

“Yes, she has.”

Prudence lowered her voice almost to a whisper. “Do you suppose that Mr. Morehouse…”

“Is one of her lovers? I believe it is quite possible. More than possible. It is almost certain.” She had known it to be true the moment he’d mentioned Mrs. Gallagher as his
friend
.

“Oh, my.”

“How else would he be acquainted with such a woman?”

“I’m sure I don’t know. He told you she had retired?”

Edwina nodded.

“So perhaps he
once
was her lover but is no longer.”

“Perhaps. It hardly matters, does it?” Except that it was one more reason she did not wish to have that woman on her staff.

“Well, at least it means that…well, that he is available. That is, not otherwise involved.”

Edwina glared across the desk at her friend. “Pru, you are not getting ideas in your head about that man, are you? I hope you are not setting your cap for him.”

“Me?” Prudence’s voice came out in a squeak and she blushed scarlet. “And Mr. Morehouse? Heavens, no. Not him. I mean, not anyone else, either, of course.”