Improper Pleasures (The Pleasure Series #1) (28 page)

She glanced at James. He knew she had forced one man’s
child on another. Perhaps he was thinking she would do that to him.

“I want you all to leave so Astra and I can discuss this
in private.”

Her mother laughed. “Oh, I think you have done quite
enough in private. I know you are new to our ways, James, but when a man ruins
a lady—”

“Ruined?” James said, an edge in his voice that was by far
the worst part of this dreadful conversation yet. “Astra bore a child. She’s no
virgin. And since she’s not married to another, no laws have been broken, or
chastity ruined, my dear Lady Seabrook.”

“But there will be talk,” Lady Phillina added.

“There would not have been if you two had not barged in
here,” James said, his voice growing louder. Oh, but there would be talk. Even
if they could trust their own servants to be silent, some of the guests had
brought their own help. And the help always knew everything.

“Lark was upset,” her mother said, indignant.

“I’m guessing you’re the one who upset her,” Astra said,
her irate tone suddenly matching James’s. “No doubt you woke her and terrified
her on purpose. I’ll not forgive you for that, Mother.”

“Enough,” James said. “Astra did come to talk me out of
the duel. Which she failed in doing. And since dawn will arrive sooner than later,
I would like to get some sleep before the big event.”

Astra stared at her feet and tried to stop trembling.
There seemed nothing she could say to James to persuade him to forgive her
before dawn reared its ugly head. Perhaps there was nothing she could say to
persuade him to forgive her ever.

“But this is not settled,” shrieked her mother. She
obviously was determined to wake the whole house.

“It is settled.” Astra tried to keep her voice even,
refusing to slide into hysterics, making this horrible scene worse for James. “James
will fight his duel and Lark and I will leave Eastlan tomorrow. As will you,
Mother.”

“I’m not going to Kent.” Her mother tightened the belt on
her embroidered robe. “Charlotte married a dairy farmer. He’s not even noble.”

“I don’t care where you go,” Astra said, wishing she had
said it years ago.

“I will retire to my bed and never rise again if anyone
goes,” Phillina said. “Where is my tea?”

“No one is going anywhere except back to their own rooms.”
James strolled to the door and opened it. “If I survive the duel, we can
announce Astra’s and my engagement tomorrow. If I die, well, then that will
occupy people’s need for gossip instead.”

“James, you don’t have to do this.” Astra turned to him
but the distance in his gaze made her wish she hadn’t.”

“There is a good chance I’m not going to live past
tomorrow, so it all might be a mute point. Either way, the subject is closed
for discussion.” He remained unnaturally still, his hands crossed over his
chest.

Her mother strode quickly to Lady Phillina and helped her
out of the chair. “Let’s leave these two lovebirds alone.”

“James, I knew you would do the honorable thing. I’m so
proud of you.” Lady Phillina made her way to James and kissed his cheek. He
bent stiffly to accept the contact, but quickly straightened. “Be safe
tomorrow. I have no doubt that your courage will be a tribute to the Keane
name.”

“Thank you, Lady Phillina,” James said but the usual
warmth he showed with the elder Keane was missing.

Astra wanted to escape with her mother and Phillina, but
knew she must stay and face James.

Once the other women were gone, James confronted Astra
with an assessing gaze. “When did you tell your mother about our affair?”

“I didn’t, though it was her suggestion in the first
place. She suspected our attraction before we ever acted upon it.” Astra
clasped her hands in front of her, trying to mimic his placid demeanor.

“So you had me set up from the beginning? Did the duel
shake up your plans? Force you to rush things a bit. I had no idea, you know. I
actually thought I might be falling in love with you entirely of my own
accord.”

Astra briefly closed her eyes and struggled to breathe. He
had been
falling in love with her. “Surely you don’t believe I would use
Lark in that way.”

“I don’t know what to believe, Astra.” He strode to the
mantle and consulted the clock. “Except that I have to fight a duel in three
hours.” He blew out the candles. “I’m getting some sleep.”

“You don’t have to marry me.” Astra tried to straighten,
to sound strong instead of breaking into a thousand pieces. The intimate cover
of darkness only made things worse.
He had been falling in love with her.

He turned to face her. “You know, I have some moral values
of my own.” He seemed angry now, squaring his shoulders, flexing muscles in his
bare chest she was sure he didn’t mean to. She couldn’t see his gaze but she
certainly could feel the contempt there. “Some sense of right and wrong that
isn’t manufactured by what you call society. Do you?”

“I never intended to trap you like this James.” She
tightened her clasped hands, wanting to touch him but knowing she couldn’t.

“Then how did you intend to trap me?”

“I love you.”

He stared at her a moment like he wanted to believe her,
but shook his head and laughed instead. “You have ruined your credibility,
Astra. I will do the right, honorable thing, because it is the right and
honorable thing. But if you turn up with child shortly after the wedding, I
won’t accept it lightly.”

Astra covered her mouth, her hurt too deep for words. She
would not cry and plead for his forgiveness. How could she? Even she found it
implausible that she had not been involved in what had occurred tonight. “I’m
sorry, James. Be safe tomorrow.”

She turned and left the room determined to find a way to
call off the duel. James was too true to his word to back out of the fight or
their wedding. And in having her faith in James Keane confirmed, he’d sentenced
Astra to a life of misery. At least if he had refused to marry her, she could
have learned to hate him. Now, she would only be able to love him while knowing
she had destroyed all hope of the sentiment being returned.

James stood in the damp field, a hazy blue dawn giving way
to the morning sun creeping across a border of trees. Though he tried to focus
on Rudd’s instructions, Astra’s betrayal gnawing at his gut made the idea of
being shot seem not so bad.

He glanced across the mist drifting from the wet grass to
see Blackmore taking another swig from a flask. Blackmore’s second, Reverend Fitzgerald
of all people, apparently Blackmore’s nephew, had tried to talk James into
calling the duel off, and almost succeeded. But Blackmore had opened his mouth
and ruined the reverend’s efforts.

“She makes you forget about honor. Makes you forget everything
but her. You must have been an easy mark for her. Never had a whore with skin
so soft, or so passionate. And even though you know what she is, you like it.
Like being played for a fool.”

Though James knew Blackmore had been talking about Ivy, he
still wanted to kill him with such intensity it kept him from moving. His words
fit James’s situation too perfectly. James hadn’t slept after Astra left his
room. He was too consumed in trying to find a way that the entrapment wasn’t
her fault and he hated himself for it. Maybe she didn’t know that her mother
would barge into his room, but she certainly knew she had been leading him a
merry chase from the beginning. Had he been actually going to dismiss doing
business with Bainbridge just to make Astra happy?

“Listen up, lad. This is your life we are talking about
here.”

James turned his attention to Mr. Rudd who’d arrived at
his room well before dawn insisting he be his second. The early morning shadows
began to lift as the sky turned from pink to yellow bringing the scene into
awful clarity. Mr. Rudd didn’t think James was going to survive. He could tell
by the look in his hard eyes.

“Blackmore’s too drunk to shoot,” James glanced at his
opponent who was arguing with Fitzgerald over his flask. Blackmore tried to
swing it from Fitzgerald’s reach and almost fell over his feet, getting tangled
in his long overcoat.

“He’s always drunk. He’s used to it.” Mr. Rudd
straightened his jacket.

Reverend Fitzgerald strode toward their direction and
James feared he finally had succeeded in talking Blackmore out of the duel. The
idea disappointed James because he was not ready to return to Eastlan to face
his battle with Astra. That he wouldn’t just admit to Blackmore that it was
Astra who he thought the man had insulted instead of Ivy, only proved how much
of a dupe James continued to be. Blackmore was too drunk to listen anyway.

“He won’t change his mind and if you won’t. We should
begin before someone finds out we aren’t meeting behind the tavern. They’ll
come looking here once it gets light,” Fitzgerald said.

“I’m ready.” James marched toward Blackmore and the man
did the same, a little too steady and determined for James’s taste.

Mr. Rudd followed behind. “Now, remember what I said. Aim
higher than you think because—”

“Just makes sure the pistol is loaded properly. I’ll do
the rest.”

Once James faced off Blackmore, he noted that the man
seemed to sober considerably. He looked James straight in the eye.

“Do you love her?”

“Afraid so,” James said, surprised he didn’t even hesitate.

“Then I’m doing you a favor.”

James nodded, knowing that Blackmore was the one who
desperately needed the favor.

“Enough chitty-chat unless you two want to be hauled in
front of the magistrate,” Mr. Rudd said. “Since there is just the four of us,
I’m going to let the reverend do the counting off since he’s a man of the
cloth. All agreed?”

James nodded and he assumed Blackmore did the same. Or
perhaps he spoke because suddenly time had slowed down for James, his focus
inward.

“Back to back. Pace off on my count. One.”

James took a giant step, wanting to put as much space as
possible between he and Blackmore. The pistols lost much of their aim at a
large distance. James was no marksman and figured Blackmore missing was his
best chance at survival.

“Two.”

James took in a glimpse of the meadow, startled how the
dew reflected the light. He thought of the time in the gazebo with Astra and
wondered if there could be more of those times if he lived through this. Could
he ever trust her again?

“Five.”

What happened to the other paces? James didn’t dare check
behind him but decided to make the other five paces count. He wanted to live
damn it, even if he had to kill Blackmore to do it.

“Ten.” James heard the shot before he had turned
completely around.

Blackmore hadn’t moved far. James didn’t think he had
taken a single step. With the growing dawn, James could still see the haunted
look in his eyes that Blackmore couldn’t drink away no matter how hard he
tried.

“Fire,” Rudd shouted. “The bastard tried to shoot you in
the back!”

Reverend Fitzgerald shook his head. “Put him out of his
misery. I can’t watch.” He turned and walked to the horses tied in the
distance.

All the anger left James. Blackmore was ruining his own
life. Whatever Ivy had done, it wasn’t worth this.

James raised his pistol. Blackmore didn’t flinch. James
shot his pistol into the air. “This is done between us.” James turned his back
on Blackmore and walked to his horse. He needed to catch up with Fitzgerald and
arrange a wedding.

***

Astra waited in the hall while the sheriff dined on a
feast intended for a house full of overnight guests. A few were still asleep
though most had departed to enjoy the extended round of entertainments provided
by the Keane family. Though the family had stayed out of the limelight since
Trent’s grizzly death, followed by Lowell’s hasty marriage to Astra, they
currently lived up to their reputation for scandal. James’s argument with
Blackmore on the occasion of his introduction to society, punctuated by a duel,
certainly brought the Keanes to the forefront of conversation with a bang.

Bang.
What a horridly inappropriate term. Astra
covered her mouth fighting off another wave of nausea. She had to cease begging
the portly sheriff to forget the basted eggs and fresh baked raspberry scones
in order to search for James. He had not found James and Lord Blackmore behind
The Cross Roads Tavern, the place the rumors claimed as the location of the
duel. When she offered to pack him a basket for his search, he told her it was
too late to stop them, and even if he did, aristocratic men had their own way
of settling things.

To keep from slipping into hysterics, Astra forced herself
to stop picturing James in a puddle of his own blood. Perhaps she should try to
force down a cup of tea and a dry piece of toast to calm her frayed nerves.
Just the thought tumbled her unstable stomach all over again. If anything
happened to James it would be her hands stained with blood. Astra collapsed onto
a padded bench and leaned her head between her knees.

The click of the door forced her upright in time to see
James walking down the hall, looking fit and refreshed.

She stood, their gazes locked. The wary narrowing of his
eyes stopped her from running to him.

“I’m so relieved to see you,” she said when she wanted to
smother him with kisses and hold him until she was assured disaster had been
avoided.

“Wouldn’t want to lose your groom on your wedding day.” His
tone was light, almost playful but his words cut Astra to the quick.

“I would not want to lose you under any circumstances. You
mean far too much to me.” Astra could not stop the catch of emotion in her
voice though it didn’t soften his expression one bit.