The Seduction (36 page)

"Worked?"

"Yes, ma'am. Worked. Unless you don't
concede how much work it is to keep up appearances day after day, to
manipulate, flatter, bluff a path through London society. Ι was not
expected to inherit the title. Ι began without a penny. Ι am trying
to build an empire of investments to keep this place afloat and pay off the
mortgage until Ι can make the estate productive enough by itself. Unless
Ι dress and behave as if money is nothing to me, Ι would not stand a
chance."

Even though she was standing, he sat down on the
bench, spreading both arms along the back, and glanced away. His hands lay
quiet in their nest of lace. The fine hands that held the tiller of all this:
house, estates, a child's happiness. The knowing hands that had explored every
secret of her body.

"And your women? They are also vital to this
laborious project, no doubt?"

"Those myriad ladies who have warmed my
nights and cheered my days? Ι deny none of them. However, Ι do not
use female companionship for any nefarious purpose. Ι take lovers because
Ι glory in making love."

"So they have nothing to do with your brave
efforts to save Gracechurch Abbey?"

"No." His lip curled as he looked up at
her. "Though it doesn't hurt to maintain a bold reputation."

"Of course, you take no pleasure in gaming
or carousing? That is all
work."

"I take pleasure wherever Ι can find
it." The warmth in his gaze brought hot color to her cheeks. "I like
pleasure. But a great deal of what Ι am obliged to do in town is just
grindingly hard work and the job isn't finished yet."

"Then Ι cannot conceive why you would
risk everything on one hand of cards with Lord Edward Vane!"

Raked gravel crunched under her shoes as Juliet
marched away. The sun dazzled off flowers and a succession of stone seats,
placed at intervals in the shade of a yew hedge. Perhaps if only she could
weep, this terrible pain would not press so hard on her heart?

Rapid footsteps strode up behind her. Alden
caught her upper arm and forced her to stop. "I thought you had more
courage than to flee," he said. "We must talk."

Juliet turned to face him. "Really? What
about? Do you want to explain all those colorful male birds and their drab
little mates to
me?
In spite of all that masculine flamboyance and
brilliant plumage, they all pair up faithfully enough, don't they?"

"For that one season, when they both raise
the young. Only the bullfinch mates for life."

"How odd, when he's the most
decorative!"

"He's also the most destructive. He
literally nips fruit blossoms in the bud."

"Does he?" she said. "How very
stupid of him."

"Nevertheless, he provides well enough for
his young and his mate." He released her arm. "Juliet, what do you
intend to do? Ι know that you hate me. Ι don't blame you. But you
have nowhere else to go. Ι want you to know that you may live here-"

"Playing what role?" She spat the words
as if they were the dregs of bitter wine.

"As my lover, of course!" His voice
incised, sarcastic. "Lud, Juliet, can't you credit me with any human
decency?"

"Very little. You have caused too much pain
in my heart."

He spun away, the skirts of his coat swirling
behind him. "Because Ι took your locket and gave it to Lord Edward.
Yes, Ι know. Ι cannot make that right."

"You can make
nothing
right. The
realm is full of the results of careless actions that cannot be made right.
Ι have a husband who is prepared to provide a home for me in London. If
Ι continue to refuse that noble offer, Ι will get no sympathy from
society or the law."

"You think I'm not aware of that?"

She wanted to push him beyond his control, as he
pushed her. She could sense his discomfort and withdrawal. It made her want to
dig at that golden surface and uncover whatever might lie there.

"What usually happens in your world when a
husband is confronted with proof that you have publicly used his wife as a harlot?"

Glittering in the sun, he paced away a few
strides. "I have never been careless enough to offer such obvious proof
before, unless the husband was acquiescent."

"And the ones who are not? The men who are
shamed, angry?"

"Demand a duel, of course."

"So you fight, unless the man is afraid to
meet you?"

He turned back to face her, nostrils flared.
"Afraid?"

"Because you always win, don't you? Α
duel with you is invariably an uneven match, dishonorable and cowardly by its
very nature. How very brave you are, to fight duels where you face no risk at
all!"

"No man
always
wins. Not me. Not even
Lord Edward Vane."

"He is such a good swordsman?"

"The best. We have fenced. Ι would not
want to face him again, if he had death on his mind."

Juliet walked away a few paces and sat down on
the nearest stone seat. She wanted him to lose his temper, rai1 and shout, so
she would have the excuse to rage back.

"So if Ι want you dead, Ι should
arrange for him to fight you? How generous you are to put such knowledge in my
hands!"

"Use it, if you
like! It doesn't matter a tinker's curse to me."

For a moment she thought he wou1d leave, spin on
his elegant heel and stalk away. Instead he walked up to her and stood blocking
the sun. He he1d out both hands, palms up. They were steady, offering not rage,
but control.

"Look at me, Juliet. Why the devil do you
think Ι wou1d prefer to use these hands to deal death? They will do so if
forced to it, but your own flesh knows how well they prefer softer employment."

Her skin burned with awareness. Her face flooded
with color, remembering, remembering.

"You think to confront me with my
desire?
Faith, sir, it is too late for that."

"I have already tried it. Ι know."
Rue lay dry and sweet in his tone, in his cur1ed palms. "It was for that
Ι thought Ι should apologize. Just know Ι have never killed a
man in a duel."

She looked away from the shadow at the base of
his thumb, the tender, capable fingers. "So the poor husband is left
alive, but humiliated. Yet what if he did prevail and prove his point?"

"Then there might be a private settlement,
or he can bring a criminal conversation suit for damages-"

"For money?"

"Of course." He paced away.
"Because Ι have alienated his rightful property and deprived him of
its use."

"Splendid!" Suddenly she longed only
for the peace and quiet of her little house in Manston Mingate, with the three
cats sunning themselves on her brick path. "Another game p1ayed by men
for dishonest stakes."

"Do you think the pain is all yours? None of
this is what Ι expected or wanted. You must know that."

Juliet stood up. "Then what did you
expect?"

"Ι expected a night's pleasure. Ι
had that beyond measure."

"And what did you want?"

He took a deep breath. "Ι thought
Ι wanted no entanglement. Ι thought Ι wanted to walk away. Now
I'm not sure."

"Not sure of what? Why?"

"You think when Ι describe myself as a
rake, it's just words? It is not. Ι adore women, but no one woman. Ι
am captivated by pleasure, but Ι abhor responsibility."

"Then you deny Sherry?"

"Α child? It's not the same
thing." He spun about and caught her by both arms, strong fingers gripping
her sleeves. "Ι know you will never consent to be my mistress. Ι
don't want that!"

"Then what do you want, Lord
Gracechurch?"

His eyes blazed. "Ι am breaking faith
with everything Ι have ever lived by. Ι am asking you to be my
wife!"

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

SHE WAS STUNNED INTO SILENCE.

For a moment she thought he would kiss her, try
to force her to accept him, but he dropped his hands and ran both palms back
over his hair.

"Lud, Juliet!" He stepped back and
bowed with a wry smile. "Ι didn't ever think to shout my first
proposal of marriage."

"Does it still escape you, Lord
Gracechurch," she said at last, "that Ι am already
married?"

"Ι will ask your husband to divorce
you. Ι will pay whatever it takes."

"So Ι am to be bought and sold? After
first having my name dragged through the mud."

"That couldn't be avoided, of course."
His voice was steady now, almost emotionless, as if he still needed to prove
his control. "He would have no other grounds, so your adultery would have
to be proved in court. Ι would shield you as well as Ι could."

She whirled away, her steps crunching on the
gravel. "And how well would that be? Don't such cases require every
intimacy to be revealed, described in the most degrading detail for the satisfaction
of some slavering judge and the prurient public? George will have to call
witnesses: Tilly, Kate, all the men who were there that night at Marion Hall.
You and Ι would be forced to recount under oath every sinful act. Sir
Reginald Denby and his friends would certainly enjoy every moment."

The gravel path ended in a short flight of steps.
Juliet ran up them and found herself on a stone-flagged terrace. Α formal
garden spread below it. Α wheel of radiating flower beds, cut in patterns
like an intricate maze, divided a series of stone paths, each bordered by a
miniature box hedge. The paths converged on a fountain, where carved dolphins
spouted endless falls of water.

Alden
took the steps two at a time and came up behind her. "We could survive
it."

"Perhaps a reckless rake might think so.
Perhaps in the white heat of desire, I might even be fool enough to believe it,
too. But you were in Italy-" The water ran, wearing away the stone fins,
the blunted snouts on the dolphins. "When I eloped with George, London
erupted in broadsheets. Cartoons. George with me in every conceivable-"
She had to fight for breath, suffocated by memories. "Cartoons about Lord
Edward that were even worse. Vile. Things I had never even imagined." She
turned to face him. "That' s what scandal means."

"I do not dismiss it, Juliet."

"Yet you say we could survive it? And what
of George? Why do you think my husband would consent to this outrageous
plan?"

Alden propped himself against the stone rail of
the terrace. The gardens quilted a backdrop for his graceful slouch. "He
will–for enough money."

"You don't even know him."

"I know he doesn't love you."

It trapped her where she stood, as if the air
were spun sugar, sparkling and thick in the sunshine. She felt brittle. Did the
pain stretch her past her breaking point?

"And you do?"

He looked away across the flowerbeds, his profile
startlingly attractive, his blond head glimmering. White light reflected off
sugared stone, sparkling water, the falls of lace at his throat, as if all of
this - the man, his home, the very sky - was unreal, all part of an intricate
confection.

"No. I don't know. I don't think so. Love? I
think that takes more time than we have had, Juliet."

"Well, that is honest, at least!" She
narrowed her eyes against the brightness. When had an English summer day been
so bright? "How flattering that you ask me to marry you, when you know I
cannot! How very gallant! Such an easy way to salve your conscience!"

His fists clenched on the stone parapet. "Do
you think
conscience
would drag me to the altar?"

"Drag?"
Juliet sank onto the stone bench behind her. Was
she going to faint? "So - after we have cavorted through the divorce
courts, survived the cartoonists, and paid a fortune in compensation to George
- you really intend marriage, though up to this point you have avoided it like
the plague. Perhaps you think to do your duty by your name? Very well, I will
divorce George and marry you, so you can leave me here, my belly filled with
your child, while you go to London, the tables and your more willing
women-"

"It would not be like that."

She raised her chin, forcing her back as upright
as if she wore the tightest corset. "Then how would it be, my lord? Α
life in hiding and shame, with every footman and scullery maid in England
giggling over every detail of our lechery? I could never appear in society. You
would never be content to live without it."

"I could live very happily without it."

Juliet burst out laughing, a shivery, fragile
mirth. "Why on earth should I believe you?"

He pushed away from the parapet and began to
pace. "I don't know. How can I prove it? I have enjoyed scores of women. I
seduced you cynically. I had to. I wanted to win the wager."

"You admit that?"

His coat fit lovingly, drum tight over his taut
back and at the waist, before the flare of cream skirts framed his long legs.
"I have never denied it. I am trying to tell you the truth. So know that
this, too, is true about what happened in Manston Mingate: though my body
burned to know yours, Ι also, against my better judgment, found myself
liking you, respecting you. Α great deal, as it happens."