Pleasure Me (15 page)

“Acquaintances at the moment, but I saw the way Garrick looked when he talked about you. His heart is not lost yet, but if you continue to see him . . . I simply do not wish to see him hurt.”

An abrupt blaze of anger lashed through her at the woman’s words. While she could understand Lady Lynmouth’s desire to protect her brother, to imply that Ruth was somehow responsible for Garrick’s pursuit of her infuriated her.

“Lord Stratfield is more than capable of making his own decisions, and to imply that I am responsible for his continued association with me is not only insulting, but ludicrous,” she bit out in a freezing tone. “I am
not
pursuing your brother, as you have suggested, Lady Lynmouth. In fact, I have done everything to dissuade him from furthering our acquaintance. To suggest that I have encouraged him tells me it’s either my reputation or
maturity
that you find so threatening where your brother is concerned.”

“I am only—”

“Yes. I know. You’re only concerned for your brother’s heart.” The caustic tone of her voice made Lady Lynmouth frown with what almost looked like regret. Ruth didn’t care as she sent the woman a cold stare of anger. “I think it’s time you left, Lady Lynmouth, before I do something rash and penalize others for your rude, offensive behavior.”

The woman appeared on the verge of speaking, and Ruth uttered a noise of outrage as she circled the desk to move toward the office door.

“Lady Ruth—”

“Spare me the obligatory apologies, please. We both know they’re not sincere,” Ruth said coldly as she jerked the office door open. “I think you can see yourself out,
Lady
Lynmouth.”

The sarcastic emphasis on the woman’s title made it clear that Ruth didn’t find Lady Lynmouth’s behavior noble in any way, and she allowed herself a small nugget of satisfaction at the woman’s quiet gasp. Good, the barb had hit home. Maybe the woman would think twice before insulting someone else in the future. Her stride filled with anger, she charged out of the office and down the hall toward the kitchen.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so angry. Not since the day she’d seen one of the local pickpockets slapping little Jenny Chapman in the face had she been this furious. She’d not encouraged Garrick in any way since their initial meeting.
You accepted his friendship.
She ignored the voice in the back of her head.

The man had been so insistent, it had been impossible to refuse him.
Not impossible.
She released a small noise of frustration at the nagging voice that hammered away at her.
She
wasn’t the one who’d asked for jewelry.
He’d
sent it without any encouragement from her.
You kept it.
She shoved the silent accusation aside.

The man had been attempting to apologize, and with a great deal more imagination than any other suitor she’d ever had. No. Garrick wasn’t a suitor—he was a friend. Not even that. Friends didn’t discuss her with others, not even family. She could just imagine what the man had said about her.

When Lady Lynmouth had asked whether she was going to retire to the country, it had made her ill. It could be a coincidence that the woman might think Crawley Hall was a place for Ruth to live out her remaining years, but it all seemed a bit too convenient. Worse, it meant she was an object of pity, and that was something she wouldn’t tolerate.

She’d had no choice in the life she’d chosen. Her father had seen to that. When he’d abandoned her mother, he’d abandoned her, too. She’d done what she had to to survive. Now that she was teetering on the edge of retirement, she didn’t want anyone’s pity, least of all Baron Stratfield’s. She rubbed her fingers across her forehead in an effort to stave off the headache threatening to overpower her. There were still dishes to do, and worrying herself silly over either Garrick or his sister’s visit was pointless.

Hours later, she’d finished helping with putting the younger children to bed and was debating whether to stay another night at St. Agnes’s. She had a sudden longing for a long soak in a hot tub of scented bath salts. Her fingers undid the knot at the back of her apron as she descended the back staircase of the orphanage into the kitchen.

Candles were the room’s only light, as the sun had set more than an hour ago. She smiled as she saw Annie sitting by the fire warily eyeing Simmons, who was sitting in a chair by the back door. Dolores had decided it was time she came home, and her friend had sent reinforcements to ensure that outcome. The moment he saw her, the man quickly stood up, his derby hat in his hand.

“I’ve come to fetch you home, my lady.”

“Yes, thank you, Simmons.”

She removed her apron and dropped it into the laundry basket in the far corner of the room then accepted her cape from her butler.

“Annie, come lock the door behind us, and make sure Thomas locked the front door as well. He’s a good boy, but can be forgetful.”

“Yes, m’lady. I’ll make sure he does. Do you want me to tell Mrs. Beardsley anything?”

“Just that I’ll resume my normal visits next week, and if she has need of me to send me word.”

“I’ll make sure she knows, m’lady. I’m glad to see you going home to get a proper night’s sleep.”

Annie’s dismay that Ruth had spent two nights in the orphanage was evident in her voice, but Ruth didn’t respond. It was impossible to argue with Annie once she’d made up her mind about something. And the girl was convinced Ruth was doing things unfitting to her station in life. Instead she simply smiled and allowed Simmons to usher her out into the night.

As the carriage rattled through the still busy streets toward her town house on Carlisle Street, her thoughts drifted back to Lady Lynmouth’s visit earlier that afternoon. She’d thought her anger had vanished, but it hadn’t. The woman’s audacity in lecturing her about how she was an older woman leading on an innocent young man infuriated her.

The idea was ridiculous, but the woman’s scandalized tone had been a stinging reminder of the other night when Garrick had taken her to the opera. Everyone who’d seen them together had reacted the same way as Lady Lynmouth. Horrified to see her in public with a younger man. She should have known better when she agreed to his offer of friendship. Well, the sooner he was out of her life, the better. The man was proving to be nothing but trouble. She ignored the rebellious voice crying out a protest.

The vehicle rocked to a gentle stop and less than a minute later she was climbing the steps to her house as Simmons saw to the business of returning the carriage to the mews. As she walked through the front door, Dolores came running down the hallway to greet her, a worried expression on her face.

“Oh my lady, I’m so sorry—”

“Where the devil have you been for the past two nights?”

Garrick’s voice made her jump as she whirled around to see him standing in the doorway of the salon. Her initial impression of him was that he looked tired. Almost as if he’d not been sleeping. A frown furrowed his brow, and his expression wavered between deep worry and another emotion she hesitated to name. For a moment, she felt the need to go to him and ease his concerns. She stopped herself as the memory of his sister’s visit shoved its way into her thoughts. She longed to race upstairs and away from a confrontation, but it would only put off the inevitable.

“I wasn’t aware that I answered to you as to where I spend my nights, my lord.” She undid the frog loops of her cape, and as it slid from her shoulders, she handed it to Dolores.

“You
don’t
answer to me. I’m simply saying I was worried,” he said fiercely, his posture revealing his tension.

With a light touch of reassurance to Dolores’s arm, she moved toward the salon doorway. Bergamot mixed with spice wafted beneath her nostrils as she brushed past him, and she crushed the emotions the scent stirred inside her. When she reached the center of the room, she turned to face him.

Her heart skipped a beat as he slowly closed the salon door to lean against it. Arms folded across his chest, he studied her with a watchful gaze. His silence didn’t make her nervous, but the predatory tension in his tall frame did. Despite the distance between them, her awareness of him was heightened to a fevered pitch that made every inch of her tingle. Even from several feet away he was the one in control. She drew in a quick breath then released it as she cleared her throat.

“I met your sister today.”

He didn’t move, but the sudden tic in his cheek said her statement had thrown him slightly off balance. However, it wasn’t the startled reaction she was looking for. Had he talked with Lady Lynmouth already? Was that why he didn’t appear surprised?

“Which sister? I have two.” His cool response reminded her of his sister.

“Lady Lynmouth. An acquaintance introduced us.” Ruth clenched her teeth as she remembered the private conversation that had followed Mr. Millstadt’s introduction. “She appears to be under the impression that I’m pursuing you.”

“I see.” He pushed himself away from the door and slowly closed the distance between them. “I can assume you corrected her on that issue.”

“I tried, but she’s determined to believe that I’m the older woman leading you into hell and damnation.”

Ruth glanced away from him as she remembered the way his sister had emphasized her age for the majority of their conversation. She didn’t need anyone to remind her that time was her enemy or that becoming involved with a younger man was a desperate attempt to cling to her youth—friendship or love affair aside. She tensed as he stopped less than a foot away from her.

“We both know you’re not.” The soft caress in his voice made her heart skip a beat, and she stiffened at the traitorous way her body reacted to him.

“You lied to me,” she bit out in a tight voice. He jerked his head back in surprise.

“Come again?”

“You told me you didn’t want Crawley Hall, but that’s not what your sister said.” Her sharp tone made him frown with exasperation.

“My sister needs to learn her place and not interfere in my affairs,” he growled as a frown of annoyance creased his brow. “If I had told you the truth, you would have been as angry with me then as you are now.”

“Angry?” She shook her head sharply, the strength of her emotions surprising her. “I’m furious. First you offer to buy the Hall for me. When I refuse, you decide to take pity on me and help me acquire the estate by
not
bidding against me.”

“I did not do what I did out of pity,” he growled.

“No? Then why did your sister think I was planning on retiring to the country—
permanently
?” She flinched as she remembered the countess saying they’d discussed her. “Don’t bother answering the question. I already know. You told her all about me. She said so herself.”

“You seem to know quite a bit about my motivations and actions after just one conversation with my sister.” His voice was a menacing rumble as fury made his eyes a piercing blue.

“Don’t try to deny the fact that you discussed me with your sister,” she snapped.

“I won’t deny that your name was mentioned. But I said nothing about the conversation you and I had at Crawley Hall.” He scowled as he leaned into her. “I simply told Lily that we were friends.”

“She didn’t believe you.” Ruth held her ground, unwilling to let him see he was intimidating her. Her heart slammed into her chest as an odd expression crossed Garrick’s face.

“I don’t give a damn what she believes. What do
you
believe?”

“I . . . I don’t know what you mean,” Ruth gasped as she stared up at Garrick’s suddenly inscrutable features.

“You know exactly what I mean, Ruth. You’ve balked at having anything to do with me from the beginning. I’d like to know why.”

“I have not
balked
, as you call it, at an association with you,” she snapped. “I accepted your friendship, and yet I’m still not sure that’s what you really want from me.”

“Why is it so difficult for you to believe that a man could enjoy the pleasure of your company without any expectations on his part?” he asked with harsh frustration. She stared at him, disconcerted by her sudden, fervent wish that he ask her for something more than just friendship.

“Because I’ve learned over time that
everyone
has expectations—even young men who offer me friendship.” Her body tensed as an odd expression crossed his face.

“Emphasizing that I’m younger than you doesn’t change the fact that I find you witty, intelligent, and in possession of the extraordinary ability to make me laugh,” he said as he shoved his hand through his hair in an exasperated manner.

“Required traits of my position in Society.”

“Christ Jesus, you’re a stubborn little mule. I don’t believe for one minute that those
so-called
traits aren’t a part of the woman you really are. If anything, you’ve honed them well simply to keep people at a distance.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I am what I am.”

“I don’t think so. There’s a great deal more to you than you’re willing to share with me.” His eyes narrowed as he pinned her with his gaze. “For instance, you’re reluctant to tell me where you’ve been for the past three days. Why? My question earlier wasn’t that of a jealous lover, I asked out of concern for your well-being.”

“Oh for heaven’s sake, you are the most tenacious man I’ve ever met. If you must know, I was at St. Agnes’s orphanage. Mrs. Beardsley, the cook and housekeeper, was ill.”

She swallowed hard as he grasped her hand to study the chafed skin of her knuckles. When his gaze met hers, she saw a deep respect in his blue eyes that warmed her heart. He approved of her actions. Her mouth went dry. The fact that his approval meant so much to her was a warning sign she found far too easy to ignore when he was holding her hand.

“You worked as a maid.” The gentle note of admiration in his voice made her cheeks grow hot.