To Please A Lady (The Seduction Series) Read online

  He sighed. “First the Rutherford ball, and now this? What is becoming of you?”

  She gritted her teeth, refusing to answer.

  “Do be more careful.”

  “Of course,” she said. “It was stupid of me.”

  “Indeed.” He continued to brush her hair and she waited uncomfortably for him to finish. The minutes ticked by, and still he stood there. Just when she thought she might scream for him to leave, he paused.

  “By the by.” He smiled. “Mother returned before you.”

  “Did she?” She shrugged. “The hack got stuck in the rain, took a moment for the driver to escape.”

  He clucked his tongue. “A hired hack? Really, what shall I do with you?” He pulled back so that her neck bent at an uncomfortable angle. The spicy scent of his sandalwood aftershave hovered around her. “See that you don’t mention your lapse in good judgment to anyone.”

  He set her brush upon the table and tightened his hold on her hair. Turning her head, he placed a chaste kiss upon her check, his mustache tickling her skin. Her stomach clenched, bile rising to her throat. How she hated his touch.

  “For if word got out, well…” He released his hold and started toward the door. “It could be quite disastrous for both of us.”

  Her fingers curled in her lap, her heart thumping angrily in her chest. “Of course.”

  “I’ll be at the club tonight; don’t wait up.”

  She lifted her hand, grasping the brush tightly. Her pulse pounded with a heated anger she could barely control. It was only when the door shut behind him that she was able to breathe with some normalcy. But the hatred was still there, still burning brightly, bubbling, boiling to the surface.

  “Don’t do it,” Fanny said. “Don’t throw the brush at him.”

  “I wasn’t…” She released the brush and took in a deep, calming breath. She still felt his icy fingers, still felt him deep within, always. He was like a parasite that fed on her soul. Her heart would not slow, her anger would not cease. Would she ever be rid of him?

  “That’s it,” Fanny said, coming up behind her and repining her hair. “Whatever you’re up to, it has to end now. ’Tis too dangerous.”

  She didn’t respond, but already her mind was spinning with possibilities. If she cared, she would never see James again. If she cared, she would obey her husband. But she’d stopped caring long ago. Something had been lit within. Something she could no longer control… a burning desire to know more. A desire to do what she wanted, when she wanted. A desire to be free.

  That spirited girl who had been there before her marriage, the child who had run free at her aunt’s home in the countryside, was still there. God help her, but she wanted to see James again. She would see him again.

  “Eleanor?” Fanny paused, her voice ringing out in warning. “I know that look upon your face well, and I don’t like it.”

  Eleanor smiled up at her maid. “Don’t be silly.”

  Fanny set the extra pins on the tabletop. Shaking her head, the maid started toward the dressing room. “I won’t have anything to do with it. Don’t even want to know.”

  “Fanny?” Eleanor called out sweetly.

  She paused with a long sigh. “Yes, my lady?”

  “Get my cloak please.”

  The maid’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “Never listen to anything I say, do you. God help us all.”

  She disappeared into the dressing room, leaving Eleanor alone. She’d been dormant for far too long. Spring had come and with it the hope and promise of a new day. It was time she too awoke and lived.

  Never in her life had Eleanor traveled alone. Yet here she was for the third time in the past fortnight sneaking about without escort, leaving behind a lifetime sentence, and searching for that little bit of freedom she so desperately craved. She’d told Fanny she was visiting the Ladies’ Society, but she’d seen the look in the maid’s eyes. Fanny hadn’t believed her in the least. Eleanor felt guilty for lying to the woman, but they both knew it was for her own good.

  As the large homes gave way to modest dwellings it was as if her chains fell away, as if the parasite within shriveled slightly. And as the lovely Westminster came into view, her heart soared higher than the church itself. The air felt lighter, and her shoulders relaxed. She felt a million miles away from everything she knew, everything that had held her captive. The fantasy of running away tiptoed through her mind. But it was crushed as soon as the idea had arrived. He would find her, she had no doubt. Besides, she had no money of her own, and no family who would take her in.

  The carriage slowed, and her excitement gave way to nervousness. She tugged the lace down over her face, hiding her features, and waiting impatiently for the hack to stop. James might not find suspicion with his mother’s death, but she did. When the carriage paused, Eleanor pushed open the door and stepped outside. She couldn’t even remember when she had last opened a door for herself. There was something incredibly exotic about doing things for herself. She took in a deep breath of rain-soaked air. The storm was fading and sunlight was trying its hardest to pierce the gray clouds.

  “Thank you,” she called to the driver, but he had already lurched away, heading down the road to find another client, more money.

  For a long moment she merely stood there, savoring the feel of being lost, alone. The temptation of being in a place where no one knew her identity was overwhelming. Here, no one watched her or expected anything of her. No, they all were too busy with their own lives to care what she did.

  Eleanor found the tea shop easily and headed down the street, retracing the steps she and James had taken only that morning. Through the windows she could see Mr. and Mrs. Swift bustling around the interior preparing for midday tea. She paused for a moment, taking in the sweet picture.

  No one could say they were pretty, but to her they were beautiful. The way they worked together almost as one, the gentle touches, the jests that had Mrs. Swift throwing her head back and laughing. All these years together and they were still obviously in love. Eleanor smiled. They represented what marriage should be. She pressed her gloved hand to her chest, her smile fading. Her heart hurt knowing she would never experience that love and companionship.

  Mrs. Swift disappeared into the back room, fracturing the perfect picture. Eleanor lifted the netting covering her face and pulled open the door. The bell overhead jingled, announcing her arrival. Mr. Swift glanced up, his eyes widening almost immediately. Good, he remembered her.

  “Well, my word. Mrs. McKinnon!”

  She forced herself to return his smile, feeling somewhat guilty for using James’s name. What he didn’t know surely wouldn’t hurt him. “Good afternoon.”

  “Come in, come in!” He led her toward a small table near the windows. The place was empty, the afternoon rush having yet to arrive. “Have you come alone?” At her nod, he continued. “What can I get you? Tea, or a chat?”

  He laughed at his own jest, making her smile in turn. She liked this couple, adored them really. Yet she was acutely aware that in her social circle she would have most likely never met them. “Information, actually.”

  He frowned, obviously confused. She could only hope he liked to gossip as much as he liked to jest.

  “You see, Mr. Swift, my husband has lost touch with his sister.” She sighed sadly, praying she did a thorough job of the grieving wife. “He would greatly love to find her but is too proud.”

  “Pride is many a man’s downfall.” He clucked his tongue and shook his head. “Really, hasn’t seen her?” He seemed quite shocked by the fact that they’d lost contact, and she could only hope he believed her lie. God’s truth she’d had enough practice fibbing since marrying her husband. Hell, her entire life was a lie.

  “They were as thick as thieves last time I saw them.” He settled in the chair next to her. “But with the death of his father, and the scandal that came along with it, I suppose the stress might have done them in.”

  “Scandal?”

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nbsp; Mr. Swift flushed, rubbing the back of his neck guiltily. “Did ye not know, my child?”

  She shook her head, confused.

  “’Tis not my place to tell you, I’m afraid. Ye’ll have to speak with your husband, or better yet, forget I mentioned it.”

  Eleanor sighed, she could see by the tight set of his jaw that she would get no further information. “His sister, then, can you tell me about her?”

  He rubbed the gray stubble along his chin thoughtfully. “Sweet little girl who looked just like her mum. Still can’t believe the poor mother died, and broken-hearted if the rumors are true.”

  She felt his loss as if it had happened to her. Poor James had only just heard about his mother’s death, although it had taken place years ago. But to him… well, she supposed it felt as if the woman had only just died today. She glanced briefly out the window, wondering how he fared. Had he told his precious Lady Lavender? Would she give him the comfort Eleanor wished she could offer?

  “Aye, his sister was a sweet little thing with brilliant red hair and ready smile. Rather shy, but kind. How she adored her brother.”

  Her heart twisted almost painfully as she pictured a young James full of courage and loyalty, a little sister tagging after him. They should have been a happy family with parents who adored them. What had gone wrong? Thoughts of James’s family had her missing her own. Eleanor had been close to her brothers and sisters at one time. Had even thought they might visit her after she married. But no, she couldn’t have them stay with her because she didn’t want them to know the truth about her life.

  “And you have no idea where she is now?”

  “Not sure.” He frowned as he turned toward the kitchens. “Mrs. Swift?”

  “Aye?” The woman waddled into the room. Spotting Eleanor, she looked almost as shocked as her husband had. But underneath her surprise, those large brown eyes shimmered with a kindness and affection that reminded her of Mrs. Swann, her Aunt Jeanie’s housekeeper.

  The woman swiped her hands on her apron, smiling at Eleanor. “Well, fancy seeing you here again! What a delightful surprise.”

  “Mrs. McKinnon is trying to find Arabella.”

  She frowned as she paused next to her husband. “James’s sister?”

  “Aye. Disappeared, she did, and they can’t seem to find her.”

  She didn’t miss the fretful glance they exchanged. Mrs. Swift clucked her tongue and shook her head much like Mr. Swift had done only moments ago. But Eleanor didn’t miss the depths of her worry. She knew what Mrs. Swift was thinking… perhaps Arabella was selling herself upon the streets. Wouldn’t that be bloody ironic?

  “I did hear a rumor that the nuns at St. Anne’s were collecting orphans around that time, still do, I think. Perhaps they might know a thing or two.”

  The woman gave her a strained smile. She believed it about as much as Eleanor did. Poverty-stricken women did not generally end up in orphanages. They ended up in the factories, or whoring themselves… much like James. She pushed aside that depressing thought. She would not give up until she uncovered the truth; she owed James that much.

  “St. Anne’s.” Eleanor stood. “Wonderful, thank you.”

  “Don’t git yer hopes up,” Mr. Swift warned, and she knew he was merely trying to be kind. “Not many children living in such poverty last long on this earth, ye know. And many end up running away from the orphanages.”

  Eleanor struggled to maintain her smile. “I understand. Still, it’s a start, and I appreciate your help.”

  He nodded. “Of course.”

  Both looked anxious and worried. They were truly kind people when she’d had so few in her life. It was too bad she would never be able to see them again. Still, she would spread word of their shop amongst the other ladies of the ton and help garner business.

  “If you don’t mind… if James happens by could you perhaps omit my visit from any conversation you might have? I am hoping to surprise him.”

  “Too late, my dear,” Mrs. Swift said with a concerned nod toward the windows. “He’s headed this way now.”

  Eleanor jerked her gaze toward the door. Sure enough James was headed straight toward them. A shock of alarm shot through her body. If his frown was any indication, he had already spotted her through the windows. The urge to dive underneath the table momentarily overwhelmed her. She should have known he would return.

  “Blast it,” Eleanor muttered.

  The door opened, and James stepped inside, bringing with the scent of soap, man, and fresh rain. A guilty flush of heat rushed to her cheeks. She was overstepping and he’d caught her. His lips lifted, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. He was angry, indeed.

  “James, my boy! Two visits in one week!” Mrs. Swift latched onto her husband’s arm in her excitement. “Can we get you some tea?”

  “No,” James said curtly, although they didn’t seem to notice his ire. “When my wife came up missing, I thought she might be here. Raved about your tea cakes, she did.”

  The couple beamed.

  Ellie felt slightly ill as she glanced at James’s handsome face. He wouldn’t even look her in the eyes. Her heart broke a little. He’d changed into gray trousers and a dark blue jacket and waistcoat that hugged his lean body to perfection. He looked every bit the irate lord out for blood.

  “But I’m sorry to say we must leave.” He turned his attention to her. The coldness in his gaze pierced her soul. She prayed she hadn’t destroyed their friendship. She was a bloody fool to have betrayed him, the one man who knew her secrets.

  “Ellie, dear, you forgot about our appointment.”

  “How silly of me.” She forced herself to smile as she went to him, sliding her arm through his. His body was tense, his muscles stiff and unyielding, pressing against the seams of his clothing as if he wanted to burst from his very skin and throttle her. Just when she’d labeled him as a sweet, kind man, he reminded her that he could easily, so very easily, destroy her. Eleanor’s mouth went dry.

  “It was lovely seeing you again,” James said. “But we must go.”

  “Of course,” Mrs. Swift called out. “Do come back!”

  “We will.” He shoved open the door and led her into the chill afternoon. The sun had disappeared once more, destroyed by yet another approaching storm. She had just enough time to pull the lace over her features before a group of women came strolling around the corner, their pretty heads bent close together as they giggled and gossiped. She didn’t miss the way their hungry gazes found James and stayed a bit too long. In his anger, he barely noticed them. But she certainly did.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” he said through clenched teeth.

  Eleanor sighed. There was no use in lying. Besides, she found she didn’t really wish to lie to him. With her free hand, she rubbed her aching temples, sliding her fingers underneath the rim of her straw bonnet. “I wanted to know what happened to your family.”

  He turned abruptly, pulling her into an alley. She didn’t have time to question his strange path. She hopped over a broken bottle, trying to keep pace with his quick gait. She realized something quite odd indeed as his grip tightened almost painfully… she was not in the least bit afraid of James.

  “Why?” he demanded, seething.

  Why did she want to know? Curiosity? She took her lower lip between her teeth, feeling slightly ashamed. Yes, but there was more. The need to think about something other than her own dour life? Rats went scurrying into the shadows, causing her to shiver. After all, she’d been the eldest child of a large family; she was used to solving everyone else’s problems. He weaved his way behind a pile of empty crates.

  “James, please. Cease!”

  He stopped so suddenly that she was forced to press her hands to his chest for balance. With a low growl, James pushed the netting up, revealing her features. “Why?”

  She’d become so accustomed to that veil hiding her from the world that she felt quite vulnerable without it.

  “Why?”


  Her heart hammered madly. She couldn’t seem to answer, couldn’t seem to get the words past her lips. Or maybe she didn’t want to answer because then she would have to admit that she had emotions and feelings like everyone else.

  With a frustrated growl, he pressed her against the brick wall, holding her captive with his own body. It was indecent, and even though they were in the shadows, half-hidden behind a pile of crates, anyone might have noticed. She had a feeling he wasn’t going to release her until she answered him truthfully.

  “Why?” he demanded.

  She flinched, hating herself for reacting. Just like that his anger faded. James sighed and leaned forward, resting his forehead to hers. It was an odd moment, almost… gentle, and she wasn’t sure if she should like the close contact or not.

  “Why?” he whispered again, his breath warm upon her lips.

  “Because… I suppose I care.”

  About him. About his family. Suddenly, about life.

  And it would most likely lead to heartache once more. Lord, had she learned nothing from her marriage? Emotions, loyalty, and compassion would get a person nowhere.

  “It doesn’t matter.” She pressed her hands into his shoulders, preparing to shove him away. Instead, she found her palms trapped against his chest. Startled, she glanced up at him.

  “It does matter. It matters so very much.”

  He lowered his head and molded his lips to hers. There, in an alley where anyone could see them, he kissed her. This was no gentle touch, but a hard kiss, a demanding kiss that left her stunned and reeling. He tasted of wine and warmth, he tasted of freedom and hope. She was completely aware of his powerful body holding her immobile. Yet there was no fear, never any worry with James.

  With a groan she slid her arms up his muscled chest and around his neck, clinging to him. It was a silent invitation and he understood. James swept his tongue into her mouth, deepening the kiss. Heaven help her, but she could not control herself with James near. Heat swirled like molten lava low in her belly, producing an aching need that left her hungry for something she didn’t understand. His knee wedged between her thighs and she felt the rigid length of his erection press against her skirts.