Taste of Temptation (10 page)

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Authors: Cheryl Holt

Tags: #Romance - Historical, #American Light Romantic Fiction, #General, #Romance, #Fiction, #Fiction - Romance, #Love stories, #Romance: Historical, #Historical, #American Historical Fiction, #Regency novels, #Regency fiction

BOOK: Taste of Temptation
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“Oh, I couldn’t,” Amelia protested.
“If you would take them, Amelia, I would be very happy.”
Rose smiled, and Amelia smiled, too.
“CAPTAIN, you know I hate to make a fuss, but for once, I really must say what’s on my mind.”
Maud struggled for calm, anxious to appear pleasant and cordial, but she didn’t imagine she was succeeding.
“Your comment implies that you’ve been overly reticent in the past.”
“I’ve gone out of my way to be amenable.”
“Have you?”
It had been utter hell dealing with him for the previous few months, and she’d tried to be gracious, to politely accede to his edicts and whims, but it was becoming ever more difficult to be civil, to be silent.
She’d spent an entire decade ingratiating herself to Charles, Michael’s father, so it had come as an enormous shock when his will had been read and she’d learned that Tristan Odell had been entrusted with everything, while Maud had been left with nothing at all.
It had taken six weeks for Odell to be notified of his guardianship, for him to travel to London and assume his duties. Once he’d arrived, he’d jumped in with a vengeance. Her allowance had been stopped, her access to the bank accounts rescinded, and her authority over Rose and Michael revoked.
It was galling and maddening, and with his giving a job to Helen Hamilton in the middle of the night, Maud had reached the end of her rope.
She and Miriam resided in the mansion, too, and they couldn’t have their status damaged by an association with the Hamiltons. Nor could Maud bear that she wouldn’t be directing Helen Hamilton in her role as part of the staff.
Enough was enough!
“Is there a problem?” Odell asked, exhibiting the implacable composure that drove her up the wall.
They were in the library, with him sitting behind the massive desk, which had been
hers
. Now, he’d claimed the desk and room as his own, and she stood across from him like a supplicant.
She pulled up a chair and sat without being invited.
“You’ve gone a tad too far this time.”
“In what area?”
“With bringing the Hamilton sisters into the house.”
“Why is that?”
“What will people say?”
“Who cares what they say?”
She sucked in a deep breath, let it out slowly, fighting to retain her poise so she wouldn’t shout at him.
“I realize you’re a seafaring man, Captain, and from another country to boot—”
“I’m from Scotland, Maud. My father paid for schooling in Edinburgh. You talk as if I was raised on the moon.”
“I’m not criticizing your antecedents, Captain.”
“It certainly sounded like it.”
The conversation wasn’t proceeding as she’d hoped. He was in a surly mood, displaying his typical contrariness, and she wondered if she’d ever grow accustomed to it.
She had big plans for Tristan Odell. He had control over all the Seymour money, so he was the perfect choice to be her next husband. Yet if she could ever manage to coax a marriage proposal out of him, how would she abide that arrogant attitude?
Her first husband had been timid and easily manipulated, and she’d loathed him for his compliant nature, but she’d relished it, too. She’d never had to argue or cajole to get her way. With Odell, they’d battle constantly.
“You must admit,” she said, “that you’re not familiar with London’s social rules.”
“I bet I know more about them than you’d guess.”
“We have two young ladies in our midst—that being Miriam and Rose, and we have to think of their rep-mutations.”
“That’s your concern?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you for sharing it. Will there be anything else?”
He picked up a quill and dipped it in the ink jar, as if eager to dive into his correspondence. He was dismissing her, but she wouldn’t go until she’d made her point.
“As a matter of fact, there are a few other topics I’d like to address.”
A corner of his mouth quirked up, as if he was trying not to laugh at her. “What have I done, Maud, that has you in such a dither?”
“I’ve spoken with the oldest Miss Hamilton.”
“Helen.”
“Yes. I advised her that I’d assigned her a bed in the servants’ quarters, located in the attic in the east wing, but she informs me that you’ve already seen to their arrangements.”
“I have.”
“I also showed her the nursery, where she should be teaching Rose, but she insists the room is small and drafty, so you’ve given her permission to open up the morning salon instead.”
“I have,” he said again.
“She claims she may furnish it however she likes, that she may buy books and supplies, and even ... a ... pianoforte.”
She hurled the last like an invective, but the extravagance was beyond the pale.
She, Maud, no longer had money to purchase her clothing at Madam LaFarge’s exclusive shop, but Miss Hamilton was to have an expensive musical instrument. It was grossly unfair.
“I want Rose and Amelia to be comfortable during their lessons,” he blithely replied.
“And that’s another of my complaints. How can it be appropriate for Rose to be educated with a girl who is so far beneath her?”
“As opposed to your method of not educating her at all?”
A muscle ticked in his cheek, clear evidence that she’d made him angry, which she hadn’t meant to do.
“I sense that I’ve aggravated you.”
“You have.”
“It wasn’t my intention, Captain. Please forgive me. It’s difficult for me, not being consulted. I ran this household for years; I’m aware of what’s necessary and fitting.”
He shrugged. “I’m not used to debating every little detail. You shouldn’t count on me seeking your opinion before I act.”
“Am I to have any authority?” She sounded pitiful, as if she was begging for leftover scraps.
“You may implement any decision you wish—so long as it doesn’t conflict with what I want to have happen.”
So ... there it was. He was a tyrant; he admitted it. She’d suspected the truth, but she’d danced around it, pretending nothing had changed.
“May I know where the Hamiltons will be sleeping?” she tightly inquired.
“I’ve had the maids air out the suites overlooking the rear garden.”
They were the prettiest rooms in the house, saved for the most important visitors. It was shocking; it was an outrage.
“She is a governess, Captain. A servant. She and her sisters are a trio of homeless waifs, inflicting themselves on our charity.”
“You couldn’t be more wrong, Maud.”
“What do you mean?”
He grinned, as if he was a cat toying with a mouse.
“Haven’t you heard?” he said. “None of this was my doing. Michael has invited them to stay—as his special guests.”
Michael was the earl. He owned the mansion. If he’d elevated their status, there was no gainsaying him. Further argument was a waste of breath.
Maud spun and marched out, biting her cheek so hard that, by the time she reached her boudoir, she could taste blood in her mouth.
Chapter 6
“WHERE the hell have you been?”
Helen jumped a foot and whipped around.
“Captain Odell! What are you doing in here?”
“Waiting for you. What does it look like?”
She was exhausted, exhilarated, grateful, confused, conflicted, and overwrought. It was nearly midnight, her lengthy day over, and she simply wanted to tumble into bed.
Rose and Amelia were inseparable. They shared a bedchamber, and after hours of giggling, had finally fallen asleep. Helen had trudged to her room, welcoming the quiet and the dark, only to find Odell sprawled in a chair by the window.
Apparently, he’d been there for some time. He was drinking a glass of liquor, and the decanter on the floor next to him was half empty.
They’d been living in the mansion for an entire week, with Helen maneuvering the hazards that came with joining a new household.
There’d been plenty of gossip and innuendo about her arrival, and a housemaid—a sullen girl named Lydia—had been particularly crass in suggesting how Helen might have
earned
her beautiful boudoir. Likewise, the earl’s cousin Maud Seymour had been grouchy and difficult.
Other than those two, Helen was starting to feel as if she might eventually fit in.
She was determined to prove that she was deserving of the captain’s generosity, so she worked very hard, getting up at the crack of dawn, enduring long hours at lessons for Rose and Amelia, then even longer ones after that shopping, visiting, and sightseeing.
Through it all, she hadn’t run into Captain Odell a single time, and the situation had bothered her much more than it should.
She kept expecting him to check on them in the schoolroom, or that she would be summoned to the library to discuss Rose. At the very least, she thought she might bump into him on the stairs, but he’d been conspicuously absent, as if he was deliberately avoiding her.
She’d considered asking after him, perhaps requesting a meeting herself, but she’d had to have consulted the butler, and it would have been awkward. And really, why should she presume to have a heightened association with the captain? Why suppose that he would
want
to have a private chat?
He’d rescued her from dire straits and had provided honest employment, and it was ludicrous to imagine he viewed her as anything other than a servant. Yet, to her astonishment, he’d brazenly entered her bedchamber, and she couldn’t ignore the spark of joy that rippled through her.
She was very glad to see him—but she couldn’t let him know. Nor could she let him remain. If he was discovered, her job would be ended before it had truly begun.
“Get out,” she insisted.
“No.”
“I mean it. You can’t stay.”
She marched over to the door and clasped the knob, ready to fling it open and point out how he should quickly exit, but he didn’t move. Neither did she.
“I asked you a question.” He stared at her till her pulse raced.
“What was it again?”
“Where have you been?”
“I’ve been with Rose and Amelia, calming them sufficiently so they could sleep.”
“It took till midnight?”
“Young girls can be quite silly.”
He studied her as if he didn’t believe her, as if he suspected she’d been out gallivanting, and at the notion, she almost laughed aloud.
If she’d wanted to leave the mansion—which she didn’t—where on earth would she go? The only people she knew in London, that being her mother’s relatives, loathed her because of her father. Who else would she have sneaked off to see?
“I’ve been working like a dog,” she declared, “simply to make you happy.”

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