Heartless (14 page)

How the years have passed. It is difficult to believe that in a few short weeks I shall be graduating and leaving school, a place that now seems more a home to me than any I have ever known. I shall desperately miss it, and the friends I have made, yet I am eager to enter this new world you have opened to me, to take my place as the person into whom I am reborn.

The letter faded from his thoughts as Justin helped Ariel cross the paving stones toward the entrance to Madison's Gaming Parlor, a nondescript two-story brick building in Jermyn Street. Settling a hand at her waist, he led her through a door guarded by a heavyset man in a frayed burgundy tailcoat into the dimly lit, slightly smoky interior.

Beneath his fingers, he could feel her stiffness, the faint rigidity in her slender frame. All evening and particularly at supper, which, fortunately, his sister had been too busy to attend, Ariel had been cool to him, carefully keeping her distance.

Now, as she looked at her surroundings, her calm reserve began to disappear, replaced by the natural curiosity that was so much a part of her, the desire to experience life that had led her down the path to his father and finally to him.

They passed through the main salon, which was done in shades of murky red and brassy gold, with fringed draperies and faded Turkish carpets. The decor was garish, the heavy flocked wallpaper lifting in several places, the furniture a little worn. The room, which led into several smaller parlors, was crowded with people, most of them well dressed, some more modestly garbed, a few looking as if they had just staggered in off the street.

It was obvious that Madison's catered to a wide range of customers, a number of them there to avoid being scrutinized by the ever-watchful gossipmongers of the
ton.

As Justin led Ariel deeper into the interior, he could feel her excitement build. That she found nothing wrong with the vaguely shabby establishment, noticed nothing amiss in the over-rouged women and slightly drunken men, only made him dislike it more.

“I never knew there were places like this,” she said with a hint of awe, staring at the patrons seated at the green baize tables or bent over the hazard tables trying their luck with the dice. She flashed him a bright, unexpected smile. “I'm glad you made me come.”

But Justin wasn't glad. Ariel didn't belong in a place like this and he wished he'd never listened to Clayton Harcourt. Turning in search of him, Justin spotted the object of his disgruntlement lounging against the wall. Dressed in a brown tailcoat and buff breeches, he stood next to a woman in a low-cut emerald-and-black silk gown, a petite, dark-haired female who laughed a little too loudly at whatever it was Clay whispered in her ear.

“Over there.” Justin urged Ariel in their direction. He noticed a momentary flash of uncertainty; then it was gone, masked behind a sunny smile. Clay waved when he saw them and maneuvered Teresa in their direction.

“You made it.” Reaching out, Clay shook Justin's hand. “I wasn't really sure you would.”

“Clay, this is Miss Summers. You've heard me speak of her.”

“Indeed I have, on a number of occasions.” His assessing brown eyes traveled the length of Ariel's tall-for-a-woman frame and warmed with approval, but there was nothing seductive in the appreciative look he gave her. “A pleasure, Miss Summers.” Somehow Clay had surmised that Ariel meant more to Justin than simply a woman to fill his bed. She was safe with Clay. Justin thought how fortunate he was to have made Clayton Harcourt his friend.

The balance of the introductions were made. Teresa Nightingale was an attractive woman, perhaps one and twenty, the daughter of an actress, Clay had told him. Any trace of uncertainty Ariel might have felt in meeting her faded in the wake of Teresa's warm greeting.

Still, it bothered him to see Ariel in a place like this. Since the gowns he had purchased were not yet ready, she was dressed tonight in a demure pale blue silk, her silver-gold hair swept on her head. With her slender stature and innocent blue eyes, she stood out like an angel in the devil's parlor.

Justin inwardly winced at the image.

“Where shall we begin?” Clay asked, a slight drawl in his voice. “We've been playing hazard for the last few hours, but they nicked us pretty good.”

“Miss Summers enjoys playing loo,” Justin said, remembering what she'd said on their trip to the country. “Why don't we start there?”

Ariel grinned, her earlier pique long faded. He liked that about her, that her anger rarely lasted. He thought that perhaps she simply didn't have time for it, not when there were so many things she wanted to do.

The four of them approached a table, but there was only room for two more players. Ariel sat down beside Teresa, and Justin placed a stack of chips in front of her. She was very good at cards, he knew from their games in the carriage. It amused him to think she might actually win.

*   *   *

Ariel fingered the growing stack of chips in front of her. Teresa, who had been steadily losing, had finally tossed in her hand and excused herself to join Clay. The two men had disappeared into another gaming room while Ariel continued her game.

The dealer shuffled the deck, preparing for the next round of play, and her glance strayed to the ornate clock on the mantel above the fireplace at the end of the parlor. Ten o'clock.

She should be meeting Phillip at this very hour, explaining the bargain she had made with the earl and beseeching him to help her. Instead she had been forced to send him a second message, canceling the appointment she so desperately needed.

You wouldn't need Phillip if you simply ignored the debt,
her mind suggested as it had a dozen times.
Lord Greville said he wouldn't force you.
But it wasn't her way to make promises she didn't keep, especially not one that underlay everything she was, everything she had worked so hard to accomplish.

She owed Justin Ross. Somehow she intended to repay him. Phillip would help her. If she had the courage to approach him.

Her stack of chips slowly grew and with it a triumphant smile. She could hardly wait to show the earl her winnings. She could almost see the look of approval she knew would appear on his face.

Her stack of chips grew even more impressive, eliciting comments from other players: a skinny bald-headed man in a frayed blue tailcoat, a buxom blonde with long-lobed ears, an attractive brown-haired girl in a low-cut red silk gown who appeared to be of an age with Ariel. The diamond-and-sapphire necklace that graced her ample bosom was expensive, but the way she was flirting with the man who stood behind her, Ariel wondered if perhaps she had sold her favors for the jewels.

It was a disturbing notion that hit a little too close to home. Ariel forced the thought away, along with the woman's suggestion that she should double her bet. There was always the chance she would lose, and she meant to keep her winnings. With that goal in mind and pleased by the considerable amount she had already won, she excused herself and left the table, her hands overflowing with chips.

Making her way to the cashier's window, she collected her winnings and stuffed the money into her reticule. She was just crossing the room in search of the earl when her gaze lit on a tall blond man escorting two women through the mirrored front doors. At the sight of Phillip Marlin with a brassy blonde on one arm and a toothy redhead on the other, Ariel came to a jarring halt.

Good heavens, it couldn't be!

But of course it was.

Phillip stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her, momentarily looking for all the world like a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar. His hair was slightly mussed, his posture a little too relaxed, and she realized that he had been drinking. With a brief word to his companions, he left them at one of the tables and started toward her, stopping right in front of her. He spoke so softly that only she could hear.

“Ariel … forgodsake, what are you doing here? And why did you cancel our meeting?”

She glanced around, hoping the earl wouldn't see them, knowing how furious he would be. “It's a long story, Phillip, and now is not a good time.” Her gaze returned to the overblown women. “Besides, it's obvious you have far more important matters to attend.”

Phillip's face turned red. “What did you expect me to do? I've been waiting to hear from you for weeks. When you finally do find time for me, at the very last minute you change your mind.”

“I couldn't get away. I thought I could make it tonight, but—”

“But Greville had other plans.”

“Yes.” Another glance at the women. “Apparently, you did, too.”

He tossed a look at his companions, who were dressed in bright satin and feathers and looking like a pair of strumpets, which, Ariel guessed, was exactly what they were.

“A man has needs, Ariel. Surely you can understand that.”

Perhaps she could. Perhaps not. For the first time, she wondered what his true feelings were for her.

“Those women mean nothing,” he went on as if he had read her thoughts. “It's you I care about. I want to see you. We can meet tomorrow afternoon at the Pig and Rooster, just as you suggested.”

But suddenly Ariel felt uneasy. “I don't know.… I … I'm not certain I can get away.”

“Three o'clock,” he said. “I'll arrange for a private dining room. Just tell the owner you're there to see me and he'll take care of the rest.”

“But I'm not sure—”

“You must come, Ariel darling. Please don't disappoint me again.”

From the corner of her eye she caught the blur of movement, and Ariel sucked in a breath. Neither of them had heard the earl's quiet approach, but she knew with certain dread he had heard at least part of the conversation.

Hard gray eyes sliced into Phillip Marlin. “Miss Summers will be busy on the morrow. And every day after that. She won't be there, Marlin. Not tomorrow or any other day in the future.”

The muscles in Phillip's face went taut. “You don't own her, Greville.”

The earl didn't bother to reply. “I believe your … ladies … are waiting.” He cast a mocking glance toward the two gaudily dressed women Phillip had come in with. “You wouldn't want to disappoint them.”

Phillip ground his jaw. His face was flushed with anger. A rapid pulse beat at the side of his neck. For a moment, she thought he meant to continue the confrontation, and she stood there holding her breath. Instead, he made a rigid bow to Ariel, tossed a hateful glance at the earl, turned, and walked stiffly away. When he reached the women, he didn't even look at them, just stalked on by as if they weren't there. One of them screeched for him to wait, but he just kept walking. They both hurried after him and disappeared out the door.

“So … it was Marlin you were to meet tonight after all.” The noisy hum of the people in the room made them an island where their words could not be heard.

“I don't … I don't know what you're talking about.”

“I knew you were lying. I just wasn't sure why.”

Ariel lifted her chin. “All right, then. I wanted to speak to him. I wanted to ask for his help.”

“Are you in love with him?”

The question, coming so unexpectedly, took her by surprise. Was she in love with Phillip? There was a time she had thought so. It seemed an eternity since then. “I don't … I don't know.”

Taking a firm grip on her arm, Justin urged her toward the door. He paused only long enough to tell his friend Clayton Harcourt they were leaving, then started walking again.

The carriage appeared out in front, the matched gray horses dancing beneath their silver-studded harnesses, silver lanterns lit beside each of the doors. They climbed in and settled against the tufted leather seats, Justin on one side, Ariel on the other. No one spoke. The coach jerked into motion, the silence inside the carriage thicker than the smoky interior of the gaming hell.

“I didn't mean to lie to you,” Ariel said softly. “I just didn't know what else to do.”

Greville said nothing, but a glacial chill seemed to pervade the coach.

“I thought he might loan me the money to repay you. I hoped he would help me find employment; then, in time, I'd be able to pay him back.” His sharp gaze swung to her face, watching as she dug frantically into her reticule and drew out her night's winnings. “This is the money you loaned me to play.” She took his hand, pried open his stiff fingers, and counted the money into his palm. “This is what I won.” She pressed the rest into his hand. “I know it's only a start, but—”

He crumpled the money into a fist, the bank notes and coins, all smashed together. The turbulence in his gaze made something tighten in her chest. The earl rapped hard on the top of the carriage.

“Pull over!” he commanded the coachman. “Now!” He swung the door open even before the conveyance rolled to a halt at the side of the street and climbed out, slamming the door closed behind him. “Take Miss Summers back to the house. See that she gets there safely.”

“Aye, milord. But how will you be gettin' home?”

“I'll find my own way back.” And then he was gone, striding away on those long legs of his, eating up the ground at an amazing pace. Ariel stared after him out the window, watching him leave, feeling oddly shaken. He was angry, furious, in fact. But it was the flash of pain she had seen in his eyes that made her ache inside.

She had hurt him. It seemed impossible, but she wasn't mistaken. He believed she was rejecting him for Phillip, but it wasn't the truth. She no longer trusted Phillip Marlin as she once had. Not when she remembered the little black boy he kept as a pet. Not after she had seen him with the women.

Still, she wasn't about to become the earl's mistress. She dreamed of being a lady. She wanted a better life for herself, a better life for the children she someday hoped to raise. In the years since she'd left home, she had learned that becoming a man's kept woman was the least likely means of accomplishing that. She wanted a husband and family, she now knew. Wanted to lead a respectable life, to be accepted by friends like Kassandra Wentworth.