Improper Pleasures (The Pleasure Series #1) (25 page)

No doubt the man who was holding her up entirely too long,
noticed how the rich color picked up a mossy shade in her eyes. How her
shoulders and the top of her small round breasts gleamed under the candles’
glow. How the excitement of the evening colored her cheeks like she had just
been wildly fucked by a man who was crazy about her. Or just plain crazy. James
took a swig of his champagne. He had to get a hold of himself.

“Lord Keane,” a strong voice bellowed.

James glanced up to find Mr. Bainbridge extending his hand.
“Lovely bash, James.” Bainbridge enthusiastically pumped James’s arm. “The
girls are having the time of their lives. Been having to beat the lads off
Kerra. I told Mrs. Bainbridge no more Frenchie fashions for my girls. They are
far too healthy to wear so little.”

James glanced in the direction Bainbridge pointed. Indeed,
Kerra was surrounded by admirers and a few had spilled over to hover around
Emily. Only Cordelia hung by her mother, obviously put out at being outshined by
her older sisters.

“Ah, Cordelia must be seething. She’ll have her day,”
James said, then glanced back to where he last saw Astra, but she had again
been swallowed by the throng. Clearly Lady Phillina had sent out far more
invitations than James had been told.

“Did you get the letter off to your brother-in-law?” Mr.
Bainbridge snagged James with a question of which he could not beg off.

James tried to give Mr. Bainbridge his full attention. “I
did. I penned it the moment I returned from Plymouth. Not that my sister’s husband
won’t be agreeable to the arrangement, mind you, but the advanced notice will
allow him time to make known the incoming shipment.”

“You have a fine ship, my boy. A shame you won’t captain
the voyage yourself, but of course, you have your duties here.”

James nodded but could not halt his gaze from straying
across the room. He spotted Astra speaking to the Reverend Fitzgerald, not as
she had the others but their heads bent together in earnest conversation. In
his mind, the reverend was entirely too young and entirely too good-looking to
be a man of the cloth.

 “Yes, well . . .” James said trying to remember what they
were talking about.

“Will you be sending any wool to America with my tin?”

“Mr. Bainbridge, will you excuse me a moment,” James said
abruptly. His urgent desire to stop Astra’s intimate exchange with Fitzgerald
ruined his ability to concentrate on Bainbridge. “I need to see if Lady
Phillina is ready to make her appearance, but I do wish to discuss our plans
further.”

“Of, course,” Mr. Bainbridge said. “But Lady Keane has
disappeared upstairs. She’s no longer talking to Reverend Fitzgerald.”

James gave himself away by glancing in the place he had
seen them and indeed the good reverend was talking to a rotund older woman with
a large feather in her powdered hair. He turned back to Bainbridge not
bothering to hide his sheepish expression. “Lady Keane does look exceptionally
lovely tonight.”

Bainbridge assessed him with his sharp brown eyes. “I have
always found Lady Keane exceptionally lovely. You know, Kerra is a sensible
girl. I have raised all my daughters to know their place and respect their
future husband’s prerogatives.”

James stiffened and tried desperately not to pale. God,
had he been that obvious? “When I take a wife, I plan to be completely
faithful. And Lady Keane is beyond reproach.”

To his credit, Bainbridge looked taken aback. “I have
never doubted nor ever would doubt Lady Keane’s honor. But that doesn’t stop a
man from wishing it were otherwise, aye?”

James forced himself to grin instead of take further offense,
which certainly would give him away. He glanced over to the Bainbridge girls.
“Make sure all three save me a dance. I really do need to assist Lady Phillina
in her grand entrance.”

“Of course, my boy. Knowing that she can look forward to a
dance with you might wipe the frown off of Cordelia’s face.” Bainbridge bowed
and strode in the direction of his daughters. James noted that all three girls
and Mrs. Bainbridge anxiously awaited his return. No doubt they were eager to
hear what their father had learned about the weaknesses of their prey.
Unfortunately, it was much more than James wished. Damn it, but he had given
things away horribly. He’d have to keep his distance from Astra for the rest of
the night. If that were not bad enough, he would be leaving her wide open for
other men to pursue.

The impermanent nature of having a mistress worked both
ways James suddenly discovered. He had to say it was part of the bargain he had
a hard time swallowing at the moment.

***

James surveyed the men surrounding him to assure himself
he was not the drunkest among them. Only Darien Blackmore showed signs of
swaying on his feet. To hell with it. James slugged back his brandy and waved
to a servant for another. It was well past midnight and the majority of his
guests showed no signs of departing. The candles still burned bright as hell
and the floral garland draped on every available surface refused to wilt.

Again, he had lost Astra in the throng and his head spun
momentarily as he scanned the swirl of colorful men and women invading his
house.

“Has Lady Keane chosen a new residence?”

The rude question garnered James’s immediate attention and
reminded him that he was having a conversation with an athletic looking man
whose name he couldn’t recall but took an instant dislike to anyway.

“Lady Phillina enjoys her company,” he mumbled, pleased
with his quick and clever response. Perhaps he wasn’t quite as drunk as he
thought. He closed one eye and the room tilted.

“Yes, jolly good to see her about. I was chums with her
eldest, Trent, the fourth baron. Grizzly business that. Can’t say I’m surprised
though. That tiger had been poorly used and snarled at anything that moved.”

James nodded. The triumph of the evening had been Lady Phillina
strolling about on his arm, greeting her guests. The only one who had beamed
more than Phillina at her accomplishment was Astra. James had felt her gaze
linger upon him. Finally being the object of Astra’s attention had been the
singular highlight of this miserable evening. Lady Phillina had retired early,
the effort not to use her wheelchair had taken much of her strength. James had
hoped the guests would have realized that Lady Phillina’s appearance was the
point of the evening and have the courtesy to leave shortly after.

“If Astra, Lady Keane, I should say, has need of
assistance in locating a place in London, I might know of a smart town home
that has just become available.” The other man droned on as if he couldn’t tell
he was irritating the hell out of James.

“I bet you do.” James glared at the man who didn’t bother
to hide his lecherous grin.

“She does look quite fetching this evening. Young widows
straight out of mourning are always highly coveted.”

Thankfully a servant arrived with a bottle of cognac
balanced on a tray. James resisted the urge to grab the bottle and allowed the liveried
footman to splash too little of the amber liquid into his empty glass. He
downed it and requested a refill before he allowed the servant to move on.

“Astra is too much concerned with her daughter’s welfare
to entertain advances from a pack of vultures,” James said, somewhat calmed by
the warm rush from the cognac.

“So, the competition has already begun. Seems I’m late to
the chase.” The man’s smile didn’t reach the assessing brown gaze he narrowed
on James.

James stared at the well-dressed gentleman and tried to
recall his name. He had a title, James knew that much. “Do you live far from
here? I know some of the country roads are treacherous in the dark.”

“Indeed. You are gracious to accommodate so many of your
guests for the night.” He bowed slightly, the smirk lingering on his mouth.

James forced the look of horror from his features. He had
wondered why the servants had been madly cleaning the guest wing. Jesus, they
must be able to accommodate fifty guests in those rooms.

“Roger,” another man approached them, a feral gleam in his
eyes. “Look who’s arrived.”

Both Roger and James followed the third man’s nod. Astra
strolled into the room with a shapely dark haired woman on her arm. Elegantly
dressed in shades of plum, jewels winking from her artfully arranged mahogany
hair, the woman would have taken James’s breath away if the blond by her side
didn’t do that every time he’d glimpsed her tonight.

Roger whistled under his breath. “This evening is turning
out to be worth the drive from London. Bravo, Keane.”

“I heard Ivy Templeton retired. I wish I had the blunt to
afford her.” His friend poked Roger in the ribs. “Perhaps Lady Keane’s in
training.”

“Lady Keane is an excellent hostess. She has no need of
instruction. What the hell are you two lathering about anyway? You act like
you’ve never seen a woman before,” James said, though he gawked at the
beautiful women with as much intensity as the other two men.

“God, here comes Blackmore.” Roger glanced over his
shoulder. “Someone should stop him.”

The other man blocked Roger’s way. “Don’t you dare stop
him. This is the most excitement I’m likely to have until the next season
begins. Oh, this will keep the gossips busy through summer.”

James glanced past Roger’s shoulder and over the head of
his companion to witness Blackmore stumbling away from the wall he’d been
holding up. His dark stare hovered on Astra and the other woman. The burning in
his gaze spurred James into immediate action.

Earlier in the evening, James had been formerly introduced
to Blackmore. Though Astra had warned James that Blackmore wouldn’t show, James
prepared himself for their confrontation anyway. Proving himself a worthy land
owner was something James had been counting on since his blunder when he’d
first arrived and called on him without announcing his visit. But tonight the
man had barely uttered more than a grunt in response. Despite this second
rebuff, James had hoped to drum up a conversation about sheep, looking for an
opening to compliment Blackmore’s research. But Blackmore had done nothing but
hide in the corner and drink all evening. Now that the man was in motion, James
would have preferred him to stay put. James didn’t like the way he surged in Astra’s
direction with a fierce look in his eyes.

“Perhaps you would like a room for the night,” James said,
intercepting Blackmore.

The other men had followed, and James could feel them
watching with fascination.

Blackmore gave James a seething stare. “Hospitable of you.
Would you loan me the use of your whore for the night as well?”

James’s fist connected with Blackmore’s chin before he
could stop himself. The rush of gratification the physical action produced made
James glad he was still capable of acting on animal impulse instead of
restrained by civility.

Unfortunately, Blackmore didn’t crumble as James
anticipated. Blackmore regained his equilibrium and lunged for him.

Roger stepped in and shoved Blackmore back. James’s arms
were wrenched behind his back by Roger’s friend. James shook him off but he had
already heard the whispers break in the room. The general buzz of merriment had
abruptly ceased. He was grateful Lady Phillina had already retired.

Roger released Blackmore as well, but he appeared far from
appeased.

James had his fist still clenched and ready. “If you’d
like to step outside, I’ll be glad to give you the beating you deserve.”

Blackmore swiped blood from his lip with a ragged sleeve.
“You think she’s worth it, do you? You poor sod.”

It took all James’s power not to defend Astra openly or
attack Blackmore on the spot. He had learned enough about English ways that a
show of emotion would equal an admission of guilt. “Outside, Blackmore. Now.
You have some dirt to eat along with your lies.”

“Don’t tell me you think she actually cares about you? Trust
me, my grubby colonial friend, she despises sheep-breeders. I should know. If
she weren’t getting long in the tooth, I doubt she’d be taking up with the
likes of you.”

James reared back to plunge his fist in Blackmore’s face a
second time but Roger had expected the move and caught his arm. “Enough, you
two. Ladies are present. Settle this like gentleman.”

“Pistols at dawn, then?” Blackmore smiled. “Do you know
how to shoot, Yank?”

“Don’t take him up on it, Keane.” Roger shook his head in
all seriousness but his friend seemed giddy.

“Do you think you can sober up by then?” James balled his
fists, preferring a brawl and the immediate satisfaction of teaching Blackmkore
some manners.

“I won’t need to be sober to kill you. Dawn. Behind the
Cross Road’s Tavern.” Blackmore turned to leave, but Roger tried to stop him.
Blackmore shook him off. “Let go. I know better than to try and talk to her.”

Roger let him leave and Blackmore strode across the room.
The guests who had all no doubt witnessed the exchange fell silent as he
passed. Astra and Ivy stood together, both women’s faces had gone extremely
pale. Blackmore never broke his stride but the look he gave them roared like
silent thunder.

James’s skin went clammy. He met Astra’s horror-filled
gaze across the room. James feared he had just accepted a challenge to duel
with Lark’s father. And was damn glad he had.

Astra opened the door to James’s bedroom without knocking.
That she passed through Lowell’s former suite did not cause the pang of remorse
she had anticipated. In the muted shadows haunting the hours between midnight
and dawn, the once lavish sitting room was unrecognizable. James had stripped
his quarters of all but the essential furnishings. Nor did a house full of
guests deter her from her unscheduled visit to forbidden territory. She needed
to know if the gossip buzzing like a wasps’ nest held any merit.