A Sordid Situation (3 page)

“He made me an offer.”

“Marriage?” Jordanna’s eyes lit with excitement. “A spring
wedding would be so utterly romantic. Wouldn’t that be glorious?”

“It isn’t marriage, I barely know him. However, he proposed that
I may be able to stay at Collingwood, if I agree to his terms.”

Jordanna gasped, leaning forward. “You’ll be a mistress! I think
you should go for it. No one needs to know, and you have nothing to lose but
everything to gain. That is of course, unless you’re not interested in him.”

“He’s fetching, I can’t deny that. But if people were to find out
the rights of it, I’d be ruined.”

“You’ll be ruined none-the-less if they find out William left you
penniless. You’ll become an outcast. I shudder to think how cruel some can be.”

“It’s nothing new, Jordanna. You came from nothing and I came
from less than nothing. We both hide our pasts out of sheer survival. It hasn’t
been easy, but we managed. We married men who loved us and could look beyond
it. I don’t want to lose what I have and I couldn’t bear to lose you as a
friend and confidant.”

They’d met first at Eugenia’s engagement party, fast becoming the
best of friends. Something inexplicable had drawn her to Jordanna, and it
wasn’t long before the twosome disclosed the truths about one another.

“I just need to face facts. If I want to stay here, there is only
one thing to do,” she added. “And you’re right. I’ve worked too hard to let all
of this go.”

“That’s my girl.” Jordanna dabbed her eyes with a lace
handkerchief. “You and I are kindred spirits. We may not be sisters by blood,
but the stars have fated us otherwise.”

“We are and there’s no denying that. We’re sisters in the truest
sense of the word.” Eugenia smoothed out her skirt. “Now, let’s stop this talk
and have tea, or something stronger.”

“Something stronger,” chimed Jordanna. “The stronger the better.”

“Coffee?” Eugenia joked.

“Not what I had in mind, you silly thing.”

“Then shall we adjourn to the library? That’s where the best is
kept. A sniffer or two of brandy will do us both good.”

Two hours passed and before they knew it, it was time for
Jordanna to toddle off home.

“I’m slightly tipsy. Perhaps I shouldn’t have had that third.” Jordanna
giggled. “I hope Henri isn’t too observant. He hates it when I drink.”

“If he should notice, just blame me. He’ll simply think I’m a bad
influence. His opinion of me is low already.”

Jordanna braced herself against the large mahogany desk.
“Actually, Henri likes you. He has never said one ill word against you.”

The maid entered, interrupting their conversation which came to a
sudden halt. “Mrs. Wareham, this just arrived for you.” She cast a disapproving
look in Jordanna’s direction. “I thought it best to get it to you straight
away.”

Eugenia nodded, accepting the envelope. “Thank you.”

“Well, I’m off. I can see myself out,” Jordanna said, pushing
past the maid. “Eugenia, you will have to come for tea soon. Promise me you
will.”

“I promise. Next Wednesday looks open.”

“Then it’s set. Ta-ta for now, mon cherie.”

“She is a bold one,” spat the maid, her face contorted in
disgust.

Eugenia shot up one hand to silence her. “That will be quite
enough. Mrs. Champion is a very good friend and a well respected member of the
community. I will have none of that. You can leave now.”

The maid nodded and cast her gaze downward before quietly
departing.

Eugenia sat behind the desk and held her breath as she opened the
envelope, reading the words on the paper.

Ms. Wareham,

In regards to our meeting,
I would like to apologize if I overstepped the boundaries of decency. I assure
you, that was never my intention. I was sincere in my offer to allow you to
stay on at Collingwood House.

Rest assured, nothing in
life comes without a price, and I consider this just another business
transaction like any other.

The bottom line is, I find
you incredibly enchanting and intriguing in a way that I have never experienced
before. I’m perplexed as to why you have this effect on me. Every time I think
about you, I feel intoxicated from head to toe.

I want one night with you.
One night, where you will submit to me in every way I require. If you refuse,
I’ll understand. But if you agree, you will benefit far beyond you could ever
imagine.

Sincerely,

C. Hawthorne

Intoxicated, enchanting and
intriguing.
She smiled and re-read the letter. He was serious, even if she
didn’t think he was—it was right there in ink. Strangely enough, she was
considering his proposal. When he had touched her, she did not want it to end,
and if it wasn’t for the moment and circumstance they had found themselves in,
she might have allowed him liberties.

She had felt his strength, his muscles, and his erection through
his trousers.

Eugenia downed the last of the brandy. She had a decision to
make. Of course, there was little to consider.

Pulling stationary from a drawer in the desk, she drafted a
response and sealed it within an envelope, and as she did, she got the feeling
she was also sealing her fate.

Chapter Three

Cal
grinned as he read Eugenia’s response. She was a vixen underneath her veneer of
sensibility.

The letter had been there on his desk that morning when he
arrived at the office. It was a pleasant way to start the day.

Mr. Hawthorne,

After much thinking on my
behalf, I feel it’s in my own best interest, but against my better judgment, to
take you up on your offer. I await your reply.

E.
Wareham

At once, he drafted a reply.

Ms. Wareham,

I’m pleased that you have
considered and accepted my offer. You will come to my house tomorrow evening at
seven. I assure you the utmost discretion will be taken. I’m located at
seventy-eight

Did I mention that this
pleases me to no end? If not, let me state it here and now for posterior. It
does!

Sincerely,

C. Hawthorne

* * * *

Eugenia smiled when she finished reading the letter.
Seven, indeed.

She’d dress in her best gown and would wear her black silken
cloak as a disguise. Since the distance was but a few blocks and she could
easily walk there, Eugenia decided not to use her driver.

Darkness fell early this time of year. It was a perk of the autumn
season and this would provide her with further anonymity.

It was business, nothing more and nothing less. And as such,
that’s exactly how she would treat the situation.

William had been much older than she. When Eugenia married him,
she expected that sex would simply become a part of her wifely duties—it was
expected of her. Unfortunately, William lacked interest and in the last few
months of their marriage, he took to sleeping in different quarters.

On the scattered occasion he’d come calling, it was always late
at night, hurried and over before she knew it. She had grown to believe that
was it. That was the marriage bed. Real intimacy between a man and woman did
not exist. She was never meant to enjoy it. Not even her years at the…. No, she
wouldn’t think of that, not at this time.
Never
again!

When Mr. Hawthorne touched her with his hands and lips, it felt
good, so good that something inside her had been roused—like an awakening. She
shivered at the thought, knowing there was so much more they could do. Was a
woman to enjoy it, like a man? Curiosity overwhelmed her.

That evening she partook an early dinner and retired for the
night. She’d need her rest. Tomorrow was an important day and she had to be
ready for everything that was to be thrown her way.

In bed, snuggled under the bedclothes, Eugenia thought of the
mysterious man, and what was to come between them. She smiled, closed her eyes
and let the images come to her. Images of him, his body, his lips, his hands,
and things she only dared dream.

* * * *

The following day passed by quickly in a flourish of preparation.
Cal
had
ordered the house to be cleaned from top to bottom. Fresh flowers adorned every
vase and had been distributed throughout the house, while the cook prepared
dinner downstairs in the kitchen under his strict direction. Everything had to
be perfect for tonight. There was no room for error.

The servants had been given the night off. Privacy tonight was a
priority. He had promised her discretion and it could not be compromised at any
costs.

“Surely sir, you’ll need at least one girl to stay behind and
serve,” said the cook, as
Cal
entered the kitchen, her crisp white apron constraining the majority of her
hefty bulk. “It’s not proper for you to do such a menial task. It’s what you
pay us for. Cara would be more than happy to stay on.” She flashed a glance at
the young girl who stood at her side.

“Under different circumstances I’d be inclined to agree with you.
However, this is an important dinner and I want the house to myself. My client
values their privacy. You do understand? There is to be no one here.”

The cook nodded. “If that’s what you wish, sir. Everything will
be ready to go before I depart. All you need do is remove it from the warmer. I
trust you’re familiar with the layout of the kitchen?”

“I am.”

“Very good, sir. I’ll be finished up within the hour.”

* * * *

As the evening darkened, seven drew near. Eugenia felt her nerves
seize control. So far, everything had gone just as she had planned. Once again,
for the second night in a row, she partook of an early dinner and then retired
to her room for the rest of the night. She hoped that after their work was
done, the servants would do the same.

The plan was to slip out the back door and into the garden when
the time was right. The trees and shrubbery would help obscure her from view,
just in case anyone inside the house happened to be looking out the windows.
She’d keep her head down on the street, and would acknowledge no one. It was
always easy to fall into the crowd in a city, and she was grateful for that.

Eugenia took one glance in the full length mirror and sighed at
what reflected before her. She pinched her cheeks for color and did a half
turn, and then slipped into the black cloak, sliding the hood over her head.
The whole effect was striking. She was suddenly transformed into a woman of
mystery, a woman with a mission. Not to mention, the black silk was a wondrous
contrast to her pale, alabaster skin.

Slipping into the hall, she stopped and listened for any signs of
life. The house remained silent, except for the rapid pounding of her heart.

Taking each step one at a time, she carefully descended the
stairs to the lower level of the house. From there she passed the main hall
into the sunroom and out the back door into the garden.

The cold, crisp autumn night air both exhilarated and renewed her
senses as she took in a deep breath. It was glorious. Once outside the garden’s
gate, she was free.

Her pulse pounded, her heart raced, it was utterly thrilling in
the most devilish of ways!

With her head low as she passed strangers, her hood drawn, she
felt wicked, much like a woman of mystery. This was new, this was now. She was
outside of her comfort zone and she loved every passing second.

Her pace increased as she grew close to her destination and as
determined, in twenty minutes she was standing on the steps of Mr. Hawthorne’s
brownstone.

The house was impressive but certainly did not hold a candle to
the grandeur of Collingwood. She pressed the bell and waited. Barely a moment
passed before the door swung open.

“And how do you do?” asked Mr. Hawthorne, a rakish grin adorning
his lips. He stepped aside and motioned for her to come inside. “Do come in.”

“I’m fine. Thank you for asking. And yourself?” She brushed past
him into the foyer.

He looked handsome dressed in a red silk smoking jacket. It was a
style she would never have guessed he preferred. Mr. Hawthorne was a man of
many surprises.

“I’m well, thank you.” He guided her down the front hall as she
held onto his arm.

“Nice jacket, is it silk?” she commented, stirring conversation.

“Yes, from the Orient. I picked it up during my last trip. I
spent a month there.”

“The Orient you say? That must have been interesting…. Business
or pleasure?”

“It was a mixture if both. I’m dipping my hands into a couple of
new ventures and the two mixed perfectly. I had the chance and grabbed it
without any regret. The experience was amazing and one that I shall never
forget. The traditions, the culture…. Their whole lives are so rooted in it,
yet it all makes perfect sense, the yin and the yang as they refer to it. You
should go there someday, if you desire it.”

Eugenia clutched his arm as they walked into the dining room.

“I’ve never considered travel. William was a homebody.”

Mr. Hawthorne helped her remove her cloak as she took in her new
surroundings. She glanced at the table, set for two. “But one never knows the
future. My life up to now has been living proof of that.”

“I don’t doubt you for one minute. I’ve been thinking…it’s time
to do away with the formalities. May I call you, Eugenia?” He pulled out a
chair for her.

“Yes. Given the circumstances, it would be most fitting.” When
she walked inside his door, there was no going back. Even if she could, she’d
decided she wouldn’t. Formalities were irrelevant now.