His Wicked Kiss (50 page)

“I see, so you’re going to learn how to gamble all my money away?” he asked as he wrapped his arms around her slim waist.

“Don’t worry. You’ll make more.”

“You are a minx,” he scolded, doting on her. He lowered his head. “Give me a kiss and it’s a deal.”

She did, pressing her satiny lips tenderly to his.

Soft as it was, it melted him. He gazed at her, half forgetting where he was, what day it was, all of life’s tiresome practicalities. But when she flashed a saucy smile as though amused by his wistful stare, he snapped out of it.

“Do you happen to know if my brothers are going tonight?”

“They are. I’ve already had a message from Jacinda and Her Grace, and Alice and Miranda, too. They’re all going, except for Alec and Becky. Jacinda tells me Alec won’t go near a card party,” she said in a musing tone. “The Strathmores aren’t going, either. Lizzie wants to stay at home with the baby and Lord Strathmore is hard at work on a bill he’s trying to push through Parliament.”

“You said the twins will be there?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” he murmured, nodding. He intended to enlist them as his main allies, though his sister’s husband, Rackford, might also be useful as a guardian for his wife. Jacinda had shared with him in whispered tones the truth about her husband’s background, and it was arguably darker than Jack’s own.

“I’m so pleased that you asked if your brothers would be there, Jack,” Eden said with a warm smile, sliding her arms around his neck. “I knew, deep down, you really do care about your family.”

“You’re my family,” he whispered, “and the truth is, I have an ulterior motive.”

“You? Never.”

“I’m afraid I’ll have to leave soon for South America, my darling.” He brushed a lock of her hair gently behind her ear. “I intend to rely upon my brothers to keep watch over my most precious treasure for me while I’m gone.” As he kissed her forehead, passion flared between them.

“Oh, Jack,” she breathed, tilting her head back to offer her lips. But as he lowered his head to accept, they heard Cousin Amelia moving about in the other room and, pausing, they stopped themselves.

Jack heaved a sigh that came from the depths of his being, released her before she could push him away, and then set out to prove that an all-around bastard could indeed play the gentleman when the occasion called.

For the next hour or so, he sat idly on the couch opposite the ladies as tea and cakes were served on the low table between them. Privately rather tickled by their chatter, he listened in companionable silence as the two lovely cousins eagerly discussed family news and village gossip.

Later that night, he took the ladies to the party.

While Jacinda taught Eden and Amelia how to gamble at genteel whist for a penny a point, Jack took the twins and Rackford privately into a quiet side room in their host’s large house, and revealed his quest, swearing them to secrecy.

He knew that Damien in particular was not going to appreciate the illegality of the mission, but out of all his brothers, it made sense to put the war-hero in charge of protecting Eden.

First, however, he had to tell his brothers where he stood.

“I realize Whitehall has recently issued a decree forbidding our veterans from enlisting in the Liberator’s army. A cowardly move, in my view. I believe this cause is just,” he said frankly, speaking from the heart. “The victory at Waterloo was all very well, but your idol Wellington put an incompetent king back on the Spanish throne, and the people of South America are the ones who must suffer for it. Now, I am going to get Bolivar the troops he needs to throw off the Bourbon tyranny. If our government calls this treason, so be it. I’m not asking you to get involved—I can guess how you feel about this. All I’m asking is that you keep my wife safe for me while I’m gone, for she is your sister now, and however much you may disapprove of me, none of this is her fault.”

“Of course we will, Jack,” Lucien said without blinking an eye.

Damien was silent for a moment, his arms folded across his chest. “I happen to know,” he said slowly after a long moment, “that Wellington would happen to agree with you about your cause.”

“What?”

Damien scratched his cheek and gave Jack a slight, rueful smile. “You heard me. Unintended consequences, Jack. We had to stop Napoleon. Spain going back under Bourbon rule was beyond our control. As I understand it, the Iron Duke would also like to see Bolivar win.” He nodded. “I will talk to him for you.”

“Oh, I don’t know—” Jack looked at him in amazement. “Wellington supports the cause?”

“Not openly, of course. But we have become quite good friends over the years, and I am sure that at least he can make a few very pertinent suggestions.”

“I daresay,” Lucien breathed.

“Can he be trusted?”

“Jack, he’s Wellington.” Damien snorted. “He holds more sway in this city than the Regent does.”

Lucien clapped Jack on the shoulder. “And I’ll keep an ear to the ground for you in the Foreign Office. If I hear anything about your friend Ruiz or his plans, I’ll let you know.”

“What exactly do you do for the government, anyway, Luce?”

“Oh, it’s all very dull.” His silvery eyes gleamed like a blade. “I wouldn’t want to bore you with the details.”

Rackford spoke up. “I know a few lads in the rookery who control the gangs in Seven Dials. They might be able to send more men your way.”

“Excellent. My assistant, Christopher Trahern, is going to be handling that aspect of it. Make them aware of his name, will you?”

Rackford nodded.

After a round of brandy, they returned to their card-playing wives and surrounded their table, inadvertently taking over the game with all of their husbandly advice.

“Billy, do you want to play in my stead?” Jacinda finally exclaimed indignantly.

“I’m just trying to help you with your strategy,” he replied.

“We’re only playing for fun, not to beat each other.”

“Speak for yourself,” Eden drawled with a mischievous grin, and Jack laughed.

As the days passed in sunny progression to the fullness of April, Eden found her daily life transforming literally into the stuff of her former fantasies—the ones Papa had scoffed at in the jungle.

She wore fabulous clothes. She had hordes of new friends.

She had found her own little niche of quasi-celebrity in the haughty Ladies’ Garden Club and Horticultural Society, t
hank
s to her famous father’s botanical exploits.

At the first meeting, which she attended with Lucien’s wife, Alice, dozens of green-thumbed Englishwomen had listened with rapt attention and small sighs of envy as Eden had described her climbs into the canopy and her studies of orchids, palm species, and bromeliads.

Her informal discussions of torrid zone botany fueled a sudden craze for the building of private glass houses where tropical species could be raised under artificial conditions.

Eden was pleased to think that in her own, very small way, she had changed the face of London, for London had certainly changed her. Papa, if he had appeared then, might have wondered who the deuce she was.

She shopped, spending fortunes on frippery; she drove her dainty carriage through Hyde Park at the fashionable hour with Amelia by her side, a maid and footman to attend her. She t
hank
ed her husband with a kiss for buying her the Derbyshire mansion.

She and Jack, meanwhile, were becoming veritable social butterflies, for she dragged him around everywhere and though he was wont to complain on the way there and make a few choice, cynical remarks—at which she tried very hard not to laugh—he was obliging enough to escort her.

She did not miss the way other women looked at her husband at these events, nor did she fail to detect the ton’s subtle climate of adultery. Flirting with other people’s spouses seemed to be one main, unspoken purpose for all of the frantic socializing. This was an aspect of the beau monde she had not been expecting. Wasn’t anyone happily married?

Ah, well. She did her best to ignore it. Nobody flirted with her, t
hank
heavens. Nobody, that was, who knew the name of her husband.

More and more people arrived as the high Season got well underway. Her life had become a true Society whirl: She knew she had arrived when she and Jack were first mentioned in the Society page of the
Morning Post
. Like her husband, she had been pronounced an “Original.”

There were horse races at Ascot next week that everyone said would be smashing, but the event Eden simply craved above all was the grand ball this Saturday night.

Her first real London ball.

She counted the hours and practiced her dancing. The gown she had ordered for the affair was sure to bedazzle all of her new friends, and her husband, too, but there was nearly a full week of pleasure to enjoy until that magical night came.

Monday had been their visit to Derbyshire and then the card party. Tuesday, she attended a lavish afternoon garden party, or “fête champêtre,” at Lady Madison’s jewel-box villa on the Thames. Wednesday night, it was an after-theater party where London’s most celebrated actors put in brief appearances, spreading their Stardust as they mingled with their rich admirers, the arts’ most generous patrons.

On Thursday afternoon, Jack escorted her to a polo match, after which they had to rush back and scramble to change clothes in time for the chamber music concert that evening at Holland House.

Calamity struck on Friday evening, however, when Eden realized her cunning French lady’s maid, Lisette, was nowhere to be found. They had already sent in their R.S.V.P. promising to attend Lady Draxinger’s at-home: They had to go.

Of course, Eden had no idea what an at-home was, but she was game to find out. All she knew at the moment was that it was time to start getting dressed, and without her maid to beautify her—horrors!

Her silk dressing gown billowing behind her, she went striding through their suite to the sitting room. “Jack!”

“Hm?” He was already dressed in his black and white finery, sprawled on the chaise, and boredly reading the paper. He glanced over with a yawn.

“Have you seen Lisette? She’s gone!”

He paused. “Ah, yes. Lisette.”

“I cannot find her anywhere!”

“Right. Er, yes, about Lisette, dear. I’m sorry, I forgot to tell you.” He sat up, lowering his feet to the floor. “She’s gone.”

“Gone?”

“Yes. I gave her the sack this afternoon.”

“What? Why?”

He set his paper aside. “She was stealing from us.”

Eden gasped.

“I caught her trying to make off with your pearls,” he said.

She furrowed her brow in pure bafflement. “You caught Lisette stealing my pearls?”

“Mm.”

“Oh! How horrid of her!”

“I know.”

“Well, what am I to do? We have to be at the Draxingers’ in an hour! ”

“Darling, one of your other maids can help you with your gown, I’m sure.”

“But who’s going to fix my hair?” she cried.

He stared at her until Eden realized how silly she actually sounded. “Oh, you.”

She walked over to him and caressed his head lightly, then bent and kissed his cheek. “What would I do without you?”

“I wonder,” he murmured. “Perhaps forget who you are?”

She lowered her gaze, chastened. “It’s all just been so exciting. I suppose sometimes… I get a bit carried away.”

He took her hand, giving her an earnest look. “Let’s stay home tonight,” he whispered. “I just want us to be with each other.”

Eden felt a jolt of longing for him. Oh, she knew that smoldering look, and the pure adoration in his gaze pierced her very heart. How lucky she was to be loved so much. The realization reminded her of how much she missed his loving. After all these days of denial, she knew she wanted him again.

“Could we just put in an appearance?” she murmured as she petted his hair. “We already said we’d go, and it would be much too rude not to show without any explanation.”

“Oh, all right. You know I can’t say no to you.”

She smiled. “Besides, I’m dying to find out what an ‘at-home’ is.”

“It’s boring,” he called as she hurried back into her chamber, and rang the bell sharply for her other maids.

* * *

Jack heaved a sigh and picked up the paper again. God knew there was no bloody reason to tell his wife the real reason he had fired her sultry French maid.

Earlier today, when Eden had gone to her Ladies’ Garden Club, Jack had been working at his desk in the sitting room, reviewing correspondence, and had not heard Lisette saunter up behind him, but he had frozen at the light female touch on his shoulder. He had assumed it was Eden reaching for him at last, and he had responded at once, turning only to find it was her attendant.

“My lady has gone out,” Lisette murmured, sidling closer. “I wondered if there’s anything my lord might need.”

She had begun rubbing his tense shoulders before he could reply, coming up behind his chair and leaning her big breasts forward to cradle his head. “These hands can do more than make pretty coiffures,” she had whispered.