Carnal Deceptions (6 page)

The cat plopped into the tall grass, teeth still clamped on its twittering prey. Hortensia stomped toward it and firmly grabbed it by the scruff of the neck. She forced

open the tiny jaw and the bird fluttered off spraying feathers as it headed for the safety of the nearest tree. The cat slumped off in anger.

Tallon laughed aloud and headed outside. He had no particular reason for leaving the house except the activity taking place on the lawn suddenly seemed far more entertaining than the dreary confines of the library. And strangely enough he found himself drawn to her company, the queer, little misfit with the breathtaking smile. And though it was obvious she was hiding something about her past, he was convinced she meant no harm to his aunt.

Tallon reached the overturned cart as Hortensia retrieved her fallen pots. “I believe you’ve injured that cat’s pride. It may never hunt again.”

The girl startled and dropped the yellow daisy she’d just picked up. “Good. The little savage. That’s the third sparrow he’s stuck his teeth into this week. The other two were not as lucky.”

He stooped to pick up the small shovel and placed it on the righted cart. “Don’t you know it’s wrong to interfere with nature?”

“Nature, indeed. God gives one animal claws, fangs and a vicious thirst for blood while the other animal has nothing but a sweet song. ’Tis hardly fair.” Hortensia kept her face down as she spoke. She organized her cart in neat rows with trembling fingers.

“What animal wouldn’t give up claws and fangs for a pair of wings?” Tallon handed her the straw hat that had flown from her head as she dashed after the cat.

She planted the hat on her head and secured the ribbons under her chin. “What good are wings when your enemy has the stealth and cunning of a practiced murderer?”

“Are you certain you’re still talking about the cat? By your tone, one would think that I, too, had walked out here with a bird clenched between my teeth.”

She fiddled with the items in her cart. “My heavens, I sound like a harpy. You’ll have to excuse me, Lord Marcliffe, sometimes my emotions get the best of me. Thank you for your help.” Again her bulky clothes hampered her movement as she pushed the unwieldy cart across the yard.

“I imagine that little bird is thankful for your strong emotions.” He could see the corner of her mouth turn up and had the sudden urge to see her radiant smile again. It did not appear often enough, and he was determined to change that.

The girl was hurting deep inside, and Tallon had more than a suspicion that Sloan was the cause. Hortensia was too in favor of his aunt’s plan. Yesterday she’d all but

volunteered to play a key role in the outlandish scheme. As if Sloan could ever appreciate the woman beneath the bland exterior, the spirit that refused to be smothered by heavy mourning garb. Was it possible he was finding this girl appealing despite her drab appearance?

He caught up with her in two strides. “I believe you would have an easier time of it if you weren’t always clad in so many layers of oversized skirts.” He gently brushed her hands aside and took the handles of the cart.

She stepped aside. “I need it over there along the wall, where the shade is greatest. We are not all free-spirits, my lord, where we feel comfortable parading around in the nude.”

“I wasn’t suggesting you remove all your clothes. Just the first four layers.” He’d only meant to shock the brazen chit for bursting into his chambers uninvited and waking him from an alcohol-steeped sleep. It had been an unkind thing to do to a sheltered girl, and he was thoroughly ashamed of himself. And it pained him to think that his monstrous scars, almost more than his nakedness, had shaken the girl.

Tallon pushed the cart toward the moss-covered stone wall. A lizard darted into a deep crevice. “Don’t plants prefer the light?”

Hortensia laughed. “These seedlings are digitalis. They would die in the sun. They much prefer a cool shady spot.”

“Digitalis? You sound as if you’ve done some reading on horticulture.” “I’ve been known to pick up a book or two.”

Tallon adjusted the cart so that it remained steady on the uneven ground. “I did not mean to imply that you were without curiosity. On the contrary, you seem to know a lot about many things.” He was rambling on like a school lad.

With a puff of skirts, Hortensia dropped onto her knees and began digging a hole in the moist earth. She sighed softly, and Tallon enjoyed the sound of it.

“My father and I would garden together.” The words seemed to catch in her throat. She picked up the small pot beside her and slid the seedling gently onto her palm before tucking it into the hole. “I’m sure you must have more interesting things to tend to this morning than watching me.”

“If you would like me to leave, you need only say it.” Though she had said it, hadn’t she? Had he misread her reactions to him? Perhaps she was nervous around him because

she wished to be rid of him. “I’m sorry if my presence disturbs you. And I’m sorry about your father. Was it a long illness?”

She shook her head and hastily dug three more holes, then slid a fragile seedling from its pot into her hand. “You may stay if you wish, but I’m sure you will find this awfully dull.”

“With such a heartfelt invitation to stay,” he quipped, “how can I possibly depart? I’ll make myself useful.” He picked up the small trowel. “Show me what to do.” He crouched beside her.

Hortensia froze for a moment then glanced at him from beneath the wide brim of her hat. Then without warning, she smiled. He rocked back on his heels, landing himself on his arse. Although it was not the source of his embarrassment, he rubbed his bad leg. “It’s always giving me a problem, you know.”

She reached out a dirt-covered hand. “Perhaps you need some help righting yourself—” her green eyes looked pointedly at his leg, “—what with your bothersome injury.” She quirked her lip, but fortunately for him, it did not erupt into a full smile. It was a weapon she obviously knew she possessed and she seemed to know exactly when to use it.

Although there was something very tempting about taking hold of her petite hand, he decided to save an ounce of his dignity and clambered to his feet without her assistance.

He hunkered down on his haunches again and twisted the trowel in the soil, making clumsy work of it and sending dirt flying. She swept the soil from her dress. “Generally, I try to keep all of the ground down here for the plants.”

Tallon laughed. What a complete imbecile he was being and every one of her reactions was charming. “Obviously, my farming skills are lacking.”

“Be sure to dig a hole that is wider and deeper than the pot the plant is in now. This will give the roots plenty of chance to spread.” She demonstrated with her own trowel.

Tallon set to the task. “You know a great deal about many things, Miss Calloway. I am surprised.”

“Oh, and why might that be, my lord?”

“It is just that you seem so young to have already learned so much.” He glanced at her. Only her cheek was visible from under the brim of the hat. It flushed pink with his compliment.

“I am rarely idle. Even though my years are few, I have had many experiences.”

Tallon picked up a pot. She reached over and stopped him from yanking out the seedling. Her hand was cool and slightly callused, yet it warmed his skin.

“You must invite the tiny plant out. It is a shock for it to be leaving its cozy home. If you are too rough, it will wither away in its new place.” She picked up his free hand and placed it under the seedling. “Give the pot a small shake.” She moved her hand with his. The plant slid slowly into his waiting palm. She pulled her hands away, and he felt the same disappointment that struck him when she made it clear that she did not crave his company.

Leaning over, he gently tucked the tiny green stem into its hole and packed the soil around it. He smiled. “I think I did that rather well.”

She stopped her digging and stared at his work. “Not bad at all.” She never looked at him. He could see only the ends of her turned up mouth, but her devastating smile had already become etched permanently in his mind.

The trail of smoke from the chimney was Tess’s compass across the meadow. Her thin bonnet provided little protection against the late afternoon chill. She climbed over the low stone wall, her basket overflowing with wild asters and bluebells. Unfamiliar carriages lined the drive and for a moment Tess was convinced she’d taken the wrong path, yet the familiar brick manor loomed.

To her surprise, she found Lady Stadwell alone in the parlor. “Is Lord Marcliffe entertaining?” Tess asked.

“I’m afraid my nephew will have little time to pay us any attention this evening.” Tess blushed. Had her interest in Lord Marcliffe been so pathetically obvious?

“He’s attending to some business.” Lady Stadwell offered her a sympathetic smile. Her towering pile of curls, some real, most fake, had tilted and she swatted ineffectually at a lock of hair that had fallen into her eyes.

Carelessly, Tess deposited the wild flowers on the side table. Certain the disappointment was written plain on her face, she turned her back on her employer and jammed the stems into a vase.

“That’s if you consider interviewing a flock of powdered, perfumed women business.” Lady Stadwell’s conspiratorial whisper seemed louder to Tess’s ears than normal speech. “The stubborn boy has finally taken my advice.” Lady Stadwell’s elbow slipped off the chair’s arm and she sloshed cognac into her lap.

Normally Tess would have rushed to mop it up. Instead, without a word, she fled the room. Her cape hung heavy on her neck as she raced down the hall to the library. Thankfully, the door was unlocked. She pushed it open and tripped over the threshold, landing on her hands and knees amid a sea of skirts.

Lord Marcliffe shot out from behind the desk. “Hortensia, what the devil?”

She refused his offered hand and got to her feet. “I would like to be considered for the position.”

His expression could not be misconstrued. His dark lashes lowered, concealing his sympathetic gaze. “I am searching for certain assets.”

“Assets?”

“Not the ones you possess, Hortensia.” His gaze lifted. He’d apparently found the courage to look at her again. By the way his lips tightened, she was certain he was trying to suppress a smile of pity very much like the one his aunt had given her. Knowing that he found her physically repulsive made her stomach clench. She balled her fists, her fingernails cutting crescents into her palms.

Tess glanced around the room, taking the measure of her competition. There were three women, all quite lovely and all looking at her with varying degrees of amusement and curiosity. Two had applied quite a bit of paint, giving them doll-like appearances. She couldn’t help noticing that they were all dark-haired. Was that, she wondered, a particular preference of Sloan’s, or was it Lord Marcliffe who preferred brunettes?

Her fingers flew to her head to smooth the frizzy dark strands. The wig had once been sleek, but now it resembled a ratty horsetail. She had no money to replace it.

The tall woman standing nearest her snickered. “Perhaps, girls, we ought to leave. It seems we have been outshone.”

“You have indeed. Now, I suggest you shut up,” Lord Marcliffe growled. The woman blinked hard as though she’d been slapped.

Coming to her rescue did nothing to mend the rip he’d put in her heart a few moments ago. “I am not above begging. I would do anything you ask.
Anything.
”

“Would you go so far as seducing the man?”

Tess found herself unable to reply. She knew it would come as a complete shock to Lord Marcliffe to find that not only would she be willing to seduce Sloan, but she would bed him for the rest of her bloody days if it meant exacting punishment.

“Hortensia, I asked you a question.” Lord Marcliffe’s voice dropped to a low, nearly inaudible level. A sure sign that he was angry.

“Yes, I suppose, if I must do.” Her gaze skittered away from his hard stare and she focused on the rose-patterned wallpaper over his shoulder.

“That’s a bloody fine thing to admit.”

Her father had been the center of her life, and now he was gone, all because of that loathsome man. She looked up at Lord Marcliffe. “You don’t know anything about me. You don’t understand what this means to me.”

He stared at her for a long time. “Bloody hell.” He hitched his hip on the edge of the desk and folded his arms across his chest. “Hortensia, you force me to be cruel. Intelligence, wit and charm are all lost on Sloan. He has only one requisite for the women he takes to bed. Beauty.”

The other women in the room laughed.

Tess mimicked him by crossing her arms. “Are we talking about you, my lord, or Mr. Sloan?” Another comment their audience found amusing.

“You three may go,” he said, ushering them out with a dismissive sweep of his hand. “But what about the position?” the tall woman whined.

“Go.”

With chins raised as though to preserve their dignity, the women bustled out of the library. Their overpowering perfume lingered once the door was shut.

The expression on Lord Marcliffe’s face made Tess feel that perhaps she should have left with the others.

He strode purposefully toward her. She gasped when he took hold of her arms and lifted her up onto her toes. He stared boldly at her lips then lifted his gaze to her eyes. “Do not waste my time any further or you will find yourself without a position entirely. And for Christ’s sake, stop looking at me with those unbelievable eyes of yours.” He released her. “Go to your room, Hortensia. I’ve had about enough of my aunt’s ridiculous machinations.” He turned his back on her.

She could reveal herself to him, but what if he found her wanting? Found her copper-colored hair unfashionable or not to Sloan’s taste? If she pushed him too far, she would find herself holed up in her father’s frigid townhouse unable to even afford kindling to feed one of the massive hearths.

The stubborn side of her personality asserted itself. “Perhaps you are unnecessary.

What is to stop me from seducing him without your help?”

He spun around to face her. She waited for his stinging laughter and instead found herself staring into eyes grown cold and hard.