Lady of Pleasure (13 page)

She inwardly cringed, preparing herself for three minutes of being in the arms of a man who wasn’t Caldwell.

Lord Gifford, on cue, appeared at her side. “Lady Caroline. Honor me.”

Her brother nudged her and smiled.

Caroline ignored her brother and extended a gloved hand to Gifford. “My lord.”

Lord Gifford set her hand onto the sleeved forearm of his evening coat and led her to the floor with a cool stride. Joining all the other couples on the dance floor, they turned in unison toward each other. Taking her hand into his, he rigidly drew her close, and positioned her against himself, setting a large hand on her corseted waist. Holding her gaze, he smiled, his blue eyes brightening.

She lowered her gaze to his linen cravat, knowing it was best not to engage him.

The music commenced and Gifford swept her effortlessly across the floor, turning them both with a quick ease and precision that was downright sensational.

She blinked. He danced incredibly well.

“Impressed?” he asked, in between dancing steps.

He had clearly noticed that she had noticed. “Very.”

“I have a question,” he said.

“And I have an answer,” she said.

He tightened his hold. “Do you think I’m too old for you?”

Her startled gaze flew up to his and she almost tripped on his feet in the middle of their turn. This couldn’t be happening. She was a Hawksford. And he the epitome of respectability. “I don’t judge people based on their age, Lord Gifford,” she managed.

He heatedly held her gaze. “I’m glad to hear it.”

Maybe she should have lied.

His hand fingered hers as they rounded behind another couple. “Might I call on you sometime?”

Why did she feel as if she were sinking into a quagmire merely for being nice? “I’m already spoken for. I’m awaiting a proposal.” It wasn’t a lie.

His features stilled but his boxed steps never wavered as he swept them right. “I would still like to call on you. If I may. Until you are formally spoken for. Might I?”

If only Caldwell were this determined. “Please don’t complicate my life.”

“If you think I’m looking to complicate your life, you don’t know me.”

“Exactly. I don’t.” She hoped that was the end of their conversation.

“Would you like to?”

Did he not get the point? “I already told you I was spoken for.”

“I know.”

They danced the remainder of the waltz in complete silence.

When the music ended, Gifford brought them to a halt and released her, his hand lingering in hers before finally releasing it. He captured her gaze. “I will only relent once I hear of your engagement. You can’t fault a smitten man for that.” His gaze softened. “Until then, I remain yours and enchanted. I will see you on the riding path tomorrow.”

He smiled and departed. But not without glancing back at her one last time.

Caroline cringed, knowing she had a problem.

Later that evening

The Spaniard Inn

Ronan
knew
he had to end things with Theodosia. He
knew
their association had lasted well beyond what he had meant it to. For the mess the woman had created for him tonight that resulted in him almost ripping the hooks off Caroline’s gown in an alcove outside of a ballroom filled with over a hundred people, damn well reminded him that if he wasn’t careful, Theodosia would end up doing what she did best: orchestrating people’s lives, particularly his.

Ronan stalked toward the mahogany table that was unceremoniously cluttered with decanters of cognac, reached out a heavy arm and grabbed a crystal filled with cognac. The amber liquid swayed from side to side within the narrow throat of the decanter, and he knew it made no sense filling a glass he’d have to keep tending to.

Bringing the rim of the smooth crystal to his lips, he tilted back his head and drank down the liquid. He forced down more and more and more, trying to finish as much as he could without coming up for air.

A muffled knock came to the door.

He stiffened and broke away from the cognac, but somehow forgot to level out the decanter. Cool liquid exploded across the front of his coat and trousers. “Sod it all.” In that moment, he felt like his father. Slathered in drink. “Bastard.” He slammed the almost empty decanter onto the table and swiveled toward the door, swiping off the liquid as best he could. “It’s open.”

The door to the rented room widened as a cloaked figure stepped into the room. “Is there a reason you wanted to meet here?”

A heaviness centered in his chest. “Yes. You and I need to talk. And I didn’t want anyone seeing me going to your house or anyone seeing you coming to mine.” He made certain his voice indicated that he was anything but pleased with her. “Close the door.”

She firmly shut the oak-paneled door with the heel of her satin slipper, her gaze never once breaking from his. The glow of flickering candles revealed an elegant face framed by silver-streaked mahogany hair that had been swept up into a chignon that glistened from countless pearls woven through its strands. A faded, white crescent-shaped scar above her right eye whispered of a past she never spoke of. Everything about her had always been genuine, but equally sad and dark. It was what had originally lured him.

Theodosia understood things other women didn’t care to understand.

Amber eyes pinned him into place. “I take it you aren’t pleased with me.”

“No. I’m not.” He rigidly tapped the side of his head. “What the devil were you thinking telling Lady Caroline to meet me in the alcove in your stead?” In agitation, he shifted from boot to boot. “Before we get into all of that – and let me assure you we will, for there is much to discuss – I also want to know what is going on between you and Ridley. I heard you were calling on him. Is that true?”

“I’m not bedding him, if that is your concern.”

“I wasn’t questioning that. I know the sort of woman you are. Hell, it took you two months of us being in the same bed before you put your hands on me. I’m concerned for your safety. The man is known for assault. All one has to do is follow the trail of broken glass on the street to his front door.”

She stared. “Ridley would never hurt me.”

Apparently, she had a new project. “How do you know that?”

“I don’t care for these questions.” She set her chin. “How was France?” Her voice took on an all too casual tone that meant she was diverting the conversation. “I heard from your uncle when I last visited him that you bought a house for your aunt on the Seine. I imagine a generous gift such as that didn’t come cheaply. Did you need money for it? All you have to do is ask. You know that.”

He widened his stance. “I don’t want to talk about money right now.”

She sighed. “What do you want to talk about then?”

“I’m worried about you calling on Ridley. It’s one of the reasons I wanted to talk to you. Only you brushed off our meeting to Lady Caroline. Ridley has a history few dare to even whisper about let alone understand. And I know you. I know the way you do things. You tinker and dig into people’s lives because you believe you have a greater purpose for them. A purpose, which in my opinion, isn’t usually in the best interests of the person you are trying to help.”

Her expression stilled and became lethal. “Are you saying I didn’t help you when you needed it?”

He huffed out a breath. “No.”

“Then don’t judge me. I have plans for Ridley.”

“Plans? What? Is that between you and his mother?”

Her expressive face became more somber. “If you must know, I intend to find him a wife. Ridley needs someone who can offer him the support he needs given his broken spirit. Surely you can’t object to my assisting him with a match.”

Ronan edged toward her in complete disbelief. “Are you daft? You plan on finding a wife for a man who breaks chairs into toothpicks on the backs of anyone who comes to his door? Jesus Christ and holy water. You can’t sweep into people’s lives and touch a wand to it. That isn’t how life works. You’re only going to make some poor woman miserable.”

She regarded him with cool reserve but said nothing.

He stared her down. “You listen to me, Theodosia, and ensure you listen well. If you feel the need to meddle with people’s lives, because you have too much money and too much time on your hands, fine. Meddle. Have a grand time with it, because I sure as hell can’t stop you from doing stupid things. But don’t
ever
stick your little finger into Lady Caroline’s business again.
Or
mine, for that matter. She doesn’t deserve to have her life yanked around the way you did tonight. And neither do I.” He stalked toward the closed door she lingered by. “The room is paid for. Stay the night for all I care. You and I are done. I’m leaving.”

She reached out a white gloved hand and quickly turned the key in the latch. Yanking the key out from the locked door, she glanced at the large four poster bed nearby and tossed the key in that direction. It landed soundlessly among the pile of linen. “You and I need to talk.”

He jerked to an incredulous halt at her audacity. He pointed to the bed, staring her down. “Go get the key. Now. Because I’m not crawling into that bed to get it.”

She held his gaze. “I wish to discuss Lady Caroline with you, after which you can leave.” Her velvet tone was edged. “How is it you never talked to me about her? Even though you have known her since she was a child?”

His hand dropped to his side. He didn’t like the fact that Theodosia was taking a keen interest in Caroline. Caroline was his haven. A haven he didn’t discuss or share with anyone outside of his uncle. “I’m not being paid to discuss my personal life with you.”

She lifted a brow. “So you consider her to be a part of your personal life?”

He squinted. “What is this? What do you want?”

Her expression was one of restraint. “Your uncle told me the girl is in love with you and has been for years. Is that true?”

He was going to crop the son of a bitch. “She is naïve. Nothing more.”

“I disagree. She didn’t come across as naïve to me.” Her voice indicated that she was fascinated. “I liked her. She is nothing like the rest of these girls who debut. She was intelligent and impressively certain of herself. Overly certain, in fact. But then again, her mother is known for being a whore to many men, so I can’t blame the girl for holding onto her pride.”

His nostrils flared. “Mind your tongue. And I mean it.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Why are you upset?”

“
Why
? You’re insulting her mother. Furthermore, what you did to Lady Caroline tonight was uncalled for. Fucking uncalled for. What are you doing?”

She lowered her chin. “I did nothing wrong.”

“You put her in a position of potential harm before the eyes of the
ton
and made her think I was waiting for her in that alcove when in fact I was waiting for you. Do you know how damn awkward that was for me? And what if someone had seen her and I together alone? What if her brother had found out? He would have ripped my bollocks into fourteen pieces and tossed them like confetti. Do you have any idea how protective he is of her, especially after the death of his father? Do you?”

Her features grew tight. “I was only trying to help you.”

“Help me?” he echoed. “By doing what exactly?”

“By doing what you clearly are unable to do on your own. Which is engage her.”

His chest rose and fell in uneven takes. It was like she knew. It was like she had been piecing his thoughts and his life together behind his back. He didn’t know how the woman did it, but she always managed to find out everyone’s secrets. He tried to remain indifferent knowing it. “Who says I want to engage her?”

“I’m not blind, Ronan. Nor are you the sort of man to associate with any woman outside of money. And she isn’t providing you money. Which means there is far more to this and her than you let on.” Setting her reticule onto a small side table beside a chair, she strode toward him, her silk gown peering out beneath the front slit of her red cloak. She paused before him.

He edged back, trying to put space between them.

She unclasped the buckle of her cloak with her gloved fingers. It slid from her shoulders and into her grasp, revealing an alabaster evening gown. Tossing her cloak aside and into a chair, she asked, “Does her brother know about your affection for Lady Caroline? Have you told him?”

Ronan’s pulse quickened. Jesus. Hawksford would kill him. “I don’t know what you think is going on, or what my uncle told you, but she and I aren’t involved in that way. We never were.”

She turned and sashayed toward the cognac, giving him her backside view. “Aside from the freckles, which she should cover with some powder, she is incredibly attractive. Don’t you think?”

Ronan fisted his hands so tightly he could feel them pulsing. He wasn’t about to admit to her, let alone himself, that after seeing Caroline for the first time the other day in the parlor, and after the way she had touched him, he had masturbated to thoughts of her that same night. It was the first time he had ever masturbated to thoughts of Caroline. And he was trying not to panic. “She and I are friends.”