Ravishing in Red (10 page)

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Authors: Madeline Hunter

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General, #Regency

BOOK: Ravishing in Red
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The door finally opened and Castleford appeared in the threshold, half-dressed in shirt and trousers. His brown hair fell about his brow and face in disarray. The fun next door must have distracted him during his day’s preparations.
“Summerhays, good of you to come. I apologize for the delay but—”
“Castleford,” a woman’s voice cooed.
Castleford glanced back into the bedchamber. From his chair Sebastian could see in there too. A naked, dark-haired woman lounged on the bed, crooking her finger in a seductive beckon. Sprawled behind her was another naked woman, a blonde this time, small in stature.
“I said I have no more time for games now,” he chided his guests. “Dress and be off with you.”
The seductress pouted. A sly expression entered her eyes. With deliberate care she stretched so her glories were on total display. Then she rose on her arms and knees and turned. Her back dipped and her bottom rose, in a blatant erotic offer.
Castleford went totally still. The blonde noticed that someone else was in the dressing room. She scooted around until she repeated her friend’s position.
Castleford looked at Sebastian. “You won’t mind waiting awhile longer, will you?”
“Not at all.”
Castleford gestured to the bottoms. “Little Katy there thinks to make it a party. Join me. Side by side, like old times.”
Sebastian was not immune to feminine wiles and willing bottoms. At the moment his mouth was dry and his body hard. “I will decline. But go. I will wait.”
Castleford walked back into the bedchamber. He gave Katy’s little bottom a gentle slap. “He says no. What can I do? He has become a saint on us.”
Katy looked back with a pout. He bent and gave her a kiss. “Not fair, is it? I will tell you what. While I give Janie pleasure, I will watch her do the same for you.”
Sebastian got up to close the door. Before it swung, Katy had positioned herself near Janie’s head, legs spread wide and hips tilted to give her prime glory easy purchase by her friend’s mouth. Castleford positioned himself behind Janie’s ripe, round bottom and dropped his trousers.
 
 
 
 
“
I
do not think so.” Castleford’s response came after a long pause. The conversation had gone as Sebastian planned, but now it swung awry with that statement.
Perhaps his relaxed, sated state had caused Castleford not to understand. He appeared half-asleep and beatifically contented.
Sebastian’s own mood was not good right now. He had listened to more feminine moaning and squealing than any man should have to endure when he was not causing the cries himself.
“If you do not cooperate on this bill in the upper house, I will not be able to help you with your own interest when it comes up in the Commons,” Sebastian reminded him.
Castleford lounged lazily in his chair, still wearing only shirt and trousers. He gave a slow shrug. “I am not convinced that you will be able to help me in any case, so why should I spend political capital to acquire your aid?”
The man was going to demand it be spelled out. “You know the influence that I have in the Commons. You have been on the opposite side of that influence often enough to be aware of it.”
“True. True. You are a strong voice, with a gift for persuasion. Whoever expected you to have the skills of Machiavelli? The world has quickly forgotten your past too. But the Commons . . . well, it is made up of small-minded men who are fickle in their loyalties. One never really knows what will cause them to be persuaded one way or the other.”
“And you are willing to risk that I might still carry the day?”
“I am questioning whether you can deliver your side of the bargain. You may already be yesterday’s fashion, for all I know. In the least, I intend to consider this trade that you propose, to decide what path most benefits me.”
There was no purpose in arguing further. Annoyed by the waste of his time, Sebastian made his way home.
The butler approached as soon as he entered the house. “Sir, it was requested that you attend on your brother as soon as you return. He has need of you.”
“Is he ill? Has the physician been called yet?” The dread of bad news broke out of its corner in his soul.
“I do not know. Your mother is with him. It was she who asked for you.”
“You should have sent someone to find me,” Sebastian snapped as he strode away.
He took the stairs two at a time. He threw open the door to Morgan’s apartment and checked the small library and drawing room. When they proved empty, he aimed for the bedchamber, afraid of what he might find.
The scene inside the chamber brought him up short at the threshold. No physician. No sick Morgan. His brother sat in an upholstered chair, beneath the lap coverlet that shielded his dead legs, looking as well as he ever did.
In a chair pulled close to him, managing to hover despite her iron posture, sat their mother. Regal as always in a white dress that set off her dark hair, her pale face wore the pained stoicism that she always displayed when in Morgan’s presence.
Esther, Marchioness of Wittonbury, turned her attention to the doorway. One perfect eyebrow arched critically over one brown eye. “Ah, here he is.”
Her tone said much more than her words.
Here he is, the great disappointment. The willful, worthless one. The one so like his father in his appetites and sins.
The one who should be dead or crippled if any son is.
Sebastian acknowledged her, but addressed Morgan. “I was given word that you required me. I am relieved to see that you appear well.”
“Your brother does not only need you when he is dying, Sebastian. As marquess, he still has authority in this family, and in the state.”
“Of course. What do you want, Morgan?”
Morgan fingered a paper on his lap. “Our mother brought me something. I am hoping that you can explain it. She says there are others, and not just this one. They are selling well in the shops.”
Sebastian waited. His mother’s delicate mouth pursed. Morgan turned the paper over.
An image showed on the other side, a crude engraving, hastily made and clumsily colored.
The picture showed Miss Kelmsleigh, appearing young, vulnerable, and fearful, submitting to the aggressive seduction of an evil-faced Sebastian Summerhays. A paper labeled “Ordnance Inventory” burned in the fireplace behind them.
Chapter Seven
“
L
ady G is reported to be spending a week in seclusion at her property in Surrey, accompanied only by her closest servants and one guest, a poet of considerable acclaim. Perhaps another epic verse will be forthcoming.”
Lizzie read the gossip notice in a flat, bored tone. She rested her chin on her hand while she held the sheet to the lamp. Audrianna was distracted by the resulting elegant profile. Lizzie’s dark, upswept hair balanced just so on her crown, and the lamp emphasized her blue eye and very delicate features.
Lizzie sighed and lifted another sheet. She did not like it when Celia requested this entertainment. One might think that Lizzie found her own fascination with society gossip embarrassing.
Only her soft voice broke the silence in the library. Daphne read by the fire, and Celia darned a damaged dress. Audrianna returned her attention to a blank sheet of paper on the writing table where she sat. She groped to find words to warn her mother about that engraving on the sheet music.
“EC is said to have spent over two hundred pounds for the matched pair he bought off Lord M,”
Lizzie read.
“While it is general agreement that they are fine cattle, there is rumor that in fact Lord M offered them as part of the settlement for a substantial gentleman’s debt.”
There really was no good way to write this letter. Audrianna wondered how little she could reveal. She would prefer it be much less than she had confided to the women in this library, and even they did not know about that long night alone with Lord Sebastian in a bedchamber at the Two Swords.
Whoever thought nice Mr. Trotter would be so greedy that he would stoke demand for her sheet music with scandalous images? Unfortunately sales had increased tenfold as a result, and Mr. Trotter had proven deaf to her pleas that he go back to pictures of flowers.
“Two farm boys in Middlesex, near the town of Trilby, found the remains of—”
While Audrianna had not really been listening, the way Lizzie broke off caught her attention, much as if a musical piece had ended before the final notes.
“I am tired of reading aloud,” Lizzie pouted, setting the paper aside. “The words are blurring in front of my eyes too.”
“You might at least finish with that bit, and not leave us hanging,” Celia complained. “If Audrianna and I brought those papers and sheets all the way from London, seeking out every one for you, you can at least read the best parts to us.”
“Why don’t you entertain us for a while instead, Celia?” Daphne said. “You might sing. Audrianna has a new song and you could teach us all.”
Celia set down her darning. She rose and walked over to Lizzie and snatched the paper. “I want to know what the boys found first.” She searched for the notice.
“Two farm boys in Middlesex, near the town of Trilby, found the decayed remains of a reticule snagged in the limbs of a fallen tree on the banks of the Thames.”
Celia hooted. “A reticule? Now that is hardly exciting. I thought it would be a body.” She peered again. The text arrested her attention.
“What else does it say?” Daphne asked.
Celia startled. “
It has been recognized as the property of the missing bride of Lord Hawkeswell, according to the local magistrate
—Oh, dear, it does sound like there is a body involved after all. How sad.”
Daphne returned to her book. Celia strolled over to Audrianna and looked down at her letter. “You have such a nice hand, Audrianna. I so admire your penmanship. It is clear that it is the writing of a lady.”
While she admired the invisible words on the blank paper, Celia placed the gossip sheet on the writing table, and pointed. “It bodes badly, does it not, this reticule and the fate of that lost girl? I understand why Lizzie did not want to continue reading after she saw
this
tragic story.”
Her finger did not point to the reticule story. It touched the one beneath it.
Recent stories out of Brighton have many wondering if an illustrious gentleman, known as a wild stallion not long ago but recently purported to have been broken, has secretly romped in the pasture again. The identity of the filly has many suggesting the worst kind of seduction, one based on coercion and on compromise of duty.
Audrianna stared at the words. For all its vagueness, she was sure that it was about Lord Sebastian and herself. But it was a stupid lie. There had been no coercion, and definitely no romping, just a ridiculous misunderstanding.
Audrianna looked over at Lizzie, who glanced askance in her direction at the same time. Audrianna then gazed up at Celia, unable to hide her astonishment. Maturity veiled Celia’s young face again.
This is taking a bad turn
, her expression said.
“Since I am the only one who does not know the reason for all the meaningful looks and careful posing, perhaps one of you can share the secret with me,” Daphne said.
Audrianna looked over her shoulder. Daphne’s book was closed. She had been watching them.
“You had best show her,” Celia said. “She will find out soon anyway, from the appearance of things.”
Not only Daphne would find out. Everyone would.
Audrianna rose and went to the bookcase. She removed the tome in which she had hidden the sheet music brought back from Mr. Trotter’s. She placed it into Daphne’s hand.
Daphne unfolded the sheet and studied it. “And the scandal sheet?” she asked without raising her gaze from the image.
Celia brought over the scandal sheet. Lizzie joined them by the fire and also examined the papers.
“I fear that you have been thoroughly compromised.” Lizzie’s soft face communicated a best friend’s sympathy even while she remained blunt in her assessment. She kept shaking her dark head dolefully. “The scandal will be insurmountable.”
“What do I care?” Audrianna said. “I am already compromised by my father’s ruined name and by the way Roger threw me over.”
“This is much worse,” Lizzie said. “There is no comparison. This will affect your sister and your mother and your friends. Women will shun you to protect their own reputations.”
“I fear she is correct,” Celia said. “You know she is, Audrianna.”
Would these friends here shun her? She could face this down if she had the sanctuary of this home and family, but if they cast her out—
“This is much worse, that is true,” Daphne concurred. “However, this also is much better.”
“I do not agree with Lizzie’s dire predictions,” Audrianna said, even though she really did. She held a brave front, but sick worry lodged in her stomach. “However, I also do not see how this can be much better than anything, Daphne.”
“Lord Sebastian may not care if he is mocked and scorned in public this way,” Daphne said, waving the sheet music. “His mother and brother will care a great deal, however. And unlike with your father or Roger, there will be compensations for your suffering this time. With your mother’s permission, I will see to it.”
“I would rather you did not.”
Daphne studied her. Then she rose as if the conversation had ended, and slid her book back into its place in the mahogany bookcase.
“It will be very chilled tonight,” Daphne said. “Lizzie, please go and light the fire pots in the greenhouse. Celia, I would be grateful if you helped her.”
The two of them left. Audrianna stared at the fire, and tried to imagine what it would be like to live down this scandal. It might be a very big one, the way Lizzie assumed.

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