Taste of Temptation (8 page)

Read Taste of Temptation Online

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
6.73Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
“Definitely. He was definitely
interested.”
“Ooh, this is bad,” Maud muttered and began to pace. “This is very, very bad.”
“What shall we do?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll think of something.”
“You won’t let her stay, will you?”
“Absolutely not. With the misery I intend to heap on her, I’ll have her out of here by tomorrow afternoon.”
“THIS is where you live?”
“Yes. Why?”
Tristan peered out the carriage window, staring at the dreary, dilapidated buildings lining the dark street. There were no street lamps, no candles burning in any of the windows.
He turned toward Miss Hamilton. She was illuminated by a beam of moonlight, and appeared delicate and ethereal, like a wraith from another world. For a fleeting moment, he was disturbingly drawn to her, as if he might like to kiss her.
He hadn’t a clue from where the peculiar impulse had sprung, and to his horror, he recalled the love potion she’d drunk, the curse she’d imposed. Frantic questions careened in his head: Was the potion taking effect? Was a supernatural force causing an attraction to form?
He shook off the absurd perception, remembering he’d just been in a brothel, and his arousal hadn’t had opportunity to wane. That was all. His heightened regard had nothing to do with curses or potions or anything else. It was a purely physical reaction to a beautiful female.
Still, he slid over, squashing himself into the corner, trying to move as far away as possible given the small confines of the carriage’s interior. He glanced out again, letting his temper flare, convinced that a bit of fury would distract him from his fascination.
“You rented a room here?” he fumed.
“Don’t scold as if I did it on purpose. My funds are completely depleted; it wasn’t as if I had a lot of choices.”
“You trotted off, leaving your sisters alone? Are you mad?”
“They locked up behind me.”
“Well, that certainly has me relieved.”
“And nobody
trotted
off. I was keeping a scheduled appointment.”
“You were pitching your wares in a damned brothel!”
“Don’t mount your moral high-horse. You continue to forget that I met you while I was there.”
He snorted with disgust. “Your mind works in the strangest ways.”
“Doesn’t it, though?”
A coachman opened the door and lowered the step, and Tristan gazed out, fretting over her walking to the stoop and climbing the stairs. The very idea raised the hairs on the back of his neck.
She clambered out and Tristan descended after her, but she strutted into the building without pausing so he could escort her.
Was the crazed woman trying to be robbed? Raped? Murdered?
He didn’t understand how she’d survived so long. The Good Lord, in His infinite wisdom, watched over idiots and fools, so He likely had a full-time job watching over
her.
“Wait for me,” he grumbled to the outriders, and he marched after her and stumbled into the shadowy foyer.
The air was very cold, and the place reeked of decay and mold and tormented lives. He actually shivered with alarm, imagining her and her sisters passing their days in such a terrible spot.
“Miss Hamilton?” he said. “Where are you?”
“Are you still here?” she asked from up above him, and he realized she was already halfway up the stairs.
He’d told her that he’d send a carriage for them in the morning, but he was overcome by dread, as if—should he leave her behind—something might happen, that she might be harmed or he might never see her again.
To his dismay, it dawned on him that he was anxious to have her close by so he could keep her out of trouble. He didn’t dare permit her to be off on her own and unprotected. Not for another second.
“Are your sisters asleep?”
“Amelia probably is, but Jane is likely awake. Why?”
He started up the stairs, not inclined to let her go any farther by herself. He found her on the landing, and he neared until his body was touching hers.
He could feel her warm breath on his cheek. A wayward strand of her soft hair tickled his chin. He could smell her, and it was an enticing scent of clean skin with a hint of flowers underneath. The odor tantalized his male sensibilities, making him contemplate behaviors he had no business contemplating.
“Let’s get your things,” he whispered.
“Why?”
“You’re all coming with me.”
“Now?”
“Yes, Miss Hamilton. Now. There’s no reason to delay.”
“But ... I owe rent to the landlord.”
“I’ll handle it tomorrow. Let’s go!”
Chapter 5
“HOW was your evening?”
“Perfect.”
Michael stared at Tristan, his expression blank, trying to look like an innocent who had just been deflowered, but it was scarcely the case.
Tristan was very old and very stuffy, and he yearned to believe that Michael was a naïve boy, so Michael wouldn’t shatter his illusions. But for the prior two years, Michael had been sneaking off to brothels with his friends. Several of his acquaintances already kept mistresses, and Michael couldn’t fathom why Tristan was so prim on the subject.
He was relieved that Tristan had allowed visits to the brothel. Michael could now go as often as he liked, and he wouldn’t have to lie to Tristan about what he was doing.
Though he’d only known Tristan a few months, he liked him very much, and wanted them to be close. He didn’t want them fighting over money or morals.
“I apologize for leaving you there all night,” Tristan said.
“You shouldn’t. It was very ... exhilarating.”
“I trust the two ladies ... ah ... taught you the pertinent details?”
“They were very adept at their instruction.”
“Well ... good.”
Michael bit down a laugh. Tristan was usually so composed and unruffled, and it was humorous to see him flustered. Michael would have liked to give him a blow-by-blow description of the event, but he doubted the poor man could withstand such a salacious conversation.
He hadn’t been to bed, and he should have been exhausted, but he wasn’t. The episode had enlivened him, and he was alert and eager to face the day. Miriam had cornered him, inviting him to accompany her on a ride in the park, and he’d said yes.
“Why didn’t you come back for me?” he asked. “I was watching the clock, expecting you to storm in and scold me for having so much fun.”
“I couldn’t get over there.”
“Why?”
“We had a situation arise. Since this is your home, and I am simply the trustee, I need to discuss it with you to be sure you’re amenable with my decision.”
It was an odd game they played. Michael was Earl of Hastings, the owner of the title, fortune, and property, but Tristan had all the actual power. Tristan constantly took action on his own, but he was gracious enough to seek Michael’s opinion and pretend that it mattered, when they both knew that, in the end, Tristan would do whatever he wanted.
Michael was only mildly begrudging of the arrangement. On the one hand, he wished his father had trusted him with real authority. On the other, he was glad he hadn’t yet been forced to assume so much responsibility, and he supposed there was some justice in Tristan being in charge.
After all, Tristan was Charles Seymour’s oldest son, and in a fairer world, Tristan would be earl, instead of Michael. For the moment, Michael was happy to let him run things. Over the next few years, as Michael came of age, he would have plenty of chances to succeed—or screw up royally!
“What happened?” he inquired.
“I’m certain you recall Miss Hamilton.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t.”
“She was here yesterday, interviewing to be Rose’s governess.”
“The attractive redhead?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me you realized your mistake and hired her.”
“I have.”
“Marvelous. You’re so stubborn; what changed your mind?”
“I learned she was in a terrible spot—mere hours away from being tossed out on the street with her two sisters.”
“How awful for them.”
“I brought the three of them to live with us. Is it all right with you?”
“Are the others as pretty as she is?”
“Exact copies.”
Michael grinned. “Then I’m delighted. We can always make room for some pretty girls.”
At the cheeky comment, Tristan glowered. “You should also know that they’re a tad notorious.”
“Notorious women? I’m more thrilled by the second.”
“Others might not approve of our empathy or hospitality. There might be gossip.”
Michael shrugged. “Why would I care?”
“I was hoping you’d say that. It seems their father was an infamous scapegrace, renowned for his peccadilloes. He was shot in a duel by the duke of Clarendon.”
“Their father was Harry Hamilton?”
“Yes. Did you know him?”
“Of course. He used to chum around with Father on occasion. They got up to all sorts of mischief.”
“That explains where Miss Hamilton comes by it.”
“Comes by what?”
“None of your business, but I will expect you to act with the utmost decorum at all times.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Amelia is only twelve—”
“Too young for me.”
“She’ll be Rose’s companion.”
“Wonderful. Rose needs a friend. Maud has kept her too isolated; she’s lonely.”
“My thoughts exactly. As to the other two—Miss Helen Hamilton and Miss Jane Hamilton—”
“How old is Jane?”
“Eighteen—the same age as you, which concerns me.”
“You worry too much.”
“Ha! From where I’m sitting, I don’t worry nearly enough. You will behave yourself. I’ve allowed you regular visits to the whores, so that they can tend your masculine needs. There’s no reason for you to bother Helen or Jane Hamilton.”
“I won’t. You have my word.”
Even as he voiced the vow, he was awhirl with questions. Jane Hamilton was eighteen. Did she enjoy flirtation? Was she truly as fetching as her sister? It would certainly be intriguing if she was!
“Good,” Tristan said. “Now get going on your ride with Miriam. The carriage has been out in the drive for the past hour. I’m sure she grows impatient.”
Michael rolled his eyes. He often went to the park with Miriam, but it was ludicrous to say they rode together. Miriam was afraid of horses and of heights, so she trudged in a coach, a servant handling the reins, while Michael pranced along beside.
Although she fancied him, the feeling wasn’t reciprocated. She was like an annoying sibling, and he could never be interested in a girl who was terrified of her own shadow.

Other books

The Wild Kid by Harry Mazer
Never Too Real by Carmen Rita
Wolf Hollow by Lauren Wolk
The Unseen by Jake Lingwall
The Sin Collector by Fortunato, Jessica
Torment and Terror by Craig Halloran