Deception (5 page)

In a moment the library was quiet once more.

Olympia stared at the empty doorway, awed. “That was absolutely incredible, Mr. Chillhurst. You may consider yourself hired.”

“Thank you, Miss Wingfield. I shall endeavor to earn my keep.”

“I must be completely honest with you, Mr. Chillhurst.” Olympia folded her hands on top of her desk and peered at Jared. “I have hired three tutors in the past six months. None of them stayed longer than a fortnight.”

“I assure you I shall stay as long as is necessary, Miss Wingfield.” Jared sat back in his chair, propped his elbows on the upholstered arms, and regarded Olympia over his steepled fingers.

Bloody hell
, he thought. He could not take his gaze off her. She had fascinated him from the moment he had walked into her library.

No, he realized, his fascination had
begun the other night in that grimy French port tavern when Artemis Wingfield had described his unusual niece. Jared had spent the entire trip across the channel speculating about the woman who had managed to locate the Lightbourne diary. Various members of his own family had spent years attempting to discover it and had failed. What sort of female had beaten them all to it, he wondered.

Even allowing for his curiosity, however, he still did not understand the strange shock of awareness that had gone through him when he had seen Draycott seize Olympia. The sensation that had washed through Jared in that moment had been deep and disturbing, almost savage in its intensity.

It was as if he had walked into the room and discovered his woman being mauled by another man. He had wanted to strangle Draycott. At the same time he had been outraged at Olympia’s obvious lack of common sense. He had longed to shake her and then drag her down onto the carpet and make love to her.

Jared was dazed by the strength of his feelings. He recalled his emotions the day he had found his fiancée, Demetria Seaton, in the arms of her lover. His reaction on that occasion had not been nearly as violent as what he had experienced today.

It made no sense. There was no logic to it.

But even knowing that, it had taken Jared mere seconds to make his reckless decision. In a heartbeat he had tossed aside his coolly conceived, eminently logical plans. All thoughts of purchasing the diary and its secrets and then returning to his business affairs vanished in an instant.

With a breathtaking, completely uncharacteristic disregard for common sense he had consigned the Lightbourne diary to hell. A mundane business arrangement
was the very last thing he wanted to enter into with Olympia. Indeed, he could not bear the thought.

He wanted her.
Wanted her
.

Once that blazing realization had struck him all that had seemed important was that he discover a way to stay here in the vicinity of his enchanting siren. He needed to explore this fierce, powerful, passionate attraction if it was the last thing he did on earth.

Nothing else mattered quite as much, not his sensible plan to secure the diary and thereby put an end to his family’s pursuit of it, not his far-flung business affairs, not even tracking down the person who was systematically embezzling from him.

His family, his business affairs, and the damned embezzler could all take care of themselves for a while. For the first time in his life he was going to do something he wanted to do and the devil with his responsibilities.

With his customary ruthless intelligence he had grasped the obvious solution to his new dilemma and presented himself as the new tutor. It had been remarkably easy, almost as if fate itself had taken a hand.

It was only now that he had had a chance to reflect upon his stunning impulsiveness that Jared wondered if he had lost his wits.

Still, he could not bring himself to regret his rash action. He knew very well that the twist of desire in his gut and the sensation of heat in his veins were dangerous threats to his much-prized self-control. But for some reason he did not care a jot about the risk.

That very lack of concern amazed him more than anything else that had happened thus far. The one thing Jared had always valued above all was the calm, cool, logical approach he applied toward every aspect of his life.

In a family where everyone around him had always
appeared to be at the mercy of their passions and whims, self-control and cold restraint had offered Jared inner peace and a reassuring sense of order. He had mastered his own emotions so thoroughly that lately he had begun to question whether he even had any left.

Now Olympia Wingfield had proven to him that he did. She was definitely a siren, he thought. One who did not yet know her own power.

It was not her beauty that had sliced through the armor that had shielded him for so long. He recognized that Demetria had been far more elegantly beautiful.

But Olympia, with her wild, sunset-red hair, expressive features, and eyes the color of a hidden lagoon, was something other than beautiful, Jared thought. She was exciting. Intriguing. Vivid. There was an innocent charm about her that was more alluring than he could ever have imagined.

It seemed to him that her entire slender, gently curved body sang a silent, sensual song beneath the modest muslin gown she wore. The Reginald Draycotts of the world would have to go elsewhere for female companionship for a while, Jared decided. He wanted Olympia and he did not intend to allow any other man to come close while he, himself, was under her spell.

Even caught as he was in the gossamer web of curiosity and fascination, Jared could not help but notice that Olympia had a rather disorganized and disheveled air about her. From the muslin cap that sat askew on her fiery hair to the cotton stocking that had come free of its garter and slipped down to her ankle, there was a cheerfully distracted quality to her attire. She had the appearance of a woman caught between the everyday world and some fabulous landscape that only she could see.

She was an obvious bluestocking, clearly doomed to be left on the shelf, but she showed every sign of being
content with her fate. Jared could well believe that she relished her spinsterhood. By now she had undoubtedly discovered that there were very few men who could understand, let alone share, her private inner world.

Olympia bit her lip. “It’s very kind of you to promise to stay and I’m certain you have the best of intentions. The thing is, my nephews are somewhat difficult to manage. They have had some trouble settling in here, you see.”

“Do not concern yourself, Miss Wingfield. I shall manage them.” After years of dealing with wily men of business, belligerent ships’ captains, the occasional pirate, and the unpredictable members of his own family, the prospect of dealing with three rowdy young boys did not alarm Jared.

For an instant a hopeful expression lit Olympia’s magnificent blue-green eyes. Then she suddenly scowled. “I trust you do not mean to try to control my nephews with floggings, Mr. Chillhurst. I will not allow them to be beaten. They have suffered quite enough in the two years since they lost their parents.”

“I do not believe that one should control either a boy or a horse with a whip, Miss Wingfield.” Jared was mildly surprised to realize he was repeating something he had overheard his father say years ago. “Such methods serve only to break the spirit or create a vicious streak in the victim.”

Olympia brightened. “Precisely my sentiments. I realize that many people believe in such old-fashioned techniques of discipline but I could never countenance them. My nephews are good boys.”

“I understand.”

“They have only been in my care for six months,” Olympia continued. “They were handed off from one relative to another after their parents died. By the time they landed on my doorstep, they were quite anxious
and very dispirited. Hugh still suffers from the occasional nightmare.”

“I see.”

“I realize they are somewhat undisciplined. But I am greatly relieved that in the past few months they have started to become more cheerful. They were much too quiet during those early weeks. I consider their present high spirits a good sign that they are happier now.”

“They very likely are happier,” Jared allowed.

Olympia’s laced fingers tightened together. “I knew just how they felt that day when their aunt and uncle from Yorkshire left them with me. I had experienced the same dreadful loneliness and apprehension myself when I was deposited on Aunt Sophy’s doorstep.”

“How old were you at the time?”

“Ten. After my parents were lost at sea, I, too, was passed around from one relative to another, just as my nephews were. No one really wanted to be bothered with me, although some tried to do their duty.”

“Duty is a poor substitute for affection.”

“Very true, sir. And a child knows the difference. I eventually wound up here in Aunt Sophy’s house. She and Aunt Ida were both past sixty at the time, but they took me in and gave me a real home. I am determined to do the same for my nephews.”

“Very commendable, Miss Wingfield.”

“Unfortunately I do not know much about raising young boys,” Olympia admitted. “I have feared to discipline them because I have not wanted to make them feel unwanted or unwelcome.”

“An orderly routine and reasonable discipline do not make a young boy feel unwanted or unwelcome,” Jared said quietly. “Indeed, just the opposite is the case.”

“Do you think so?”

Jared tapped his fingertips together. “It is my opinion
as a tutor that a firmly established schedule of lessons and instructive activities will greatly benefit your nephews.”

Olympia heaved a small sigh of relief. “I would certainly be very grateful to have this household restored to some semblance of order. I vow it is very difficult to work with all the noise and the dashing about that goes on these days. I have not been able to write a single paper in the past few months. It seems as though some crisis is always occurring.”

“Crisis?”

“Last Sunday Ethan brought a frog to church. You would not believe the commotion it caused. A few days ago Robert tried to ride a neighbor’s horse without a saddle and got thrown to the ground. The neighbor was furious because he had not given Robert permission to ride the beast. I was terrified that Robert had been seriously injured. Yesterday Hugh got into a fight with little Charles Bristow and the young man’s mother created a dreadful fuss.”

“What was the fight about?” Jared asked curiously.

“I have no notion. Hugh would not tell me. But he got his nose bloodied and I was very worried that it might be broken.”

“I take it Hugh lost the fight?”

“Yes, but that is neither here nor there. The important thing is that he got into a fight in the first place. I was quite alarmed. Mrs. Bird said I should take a switch to him, but I certainly will not do that. In any event, that is a small sampling of what life has been like around here every day for the past few months.”

“Hmm.”

“And there always seems to be so much
noise,”
Olympia continued unhappily. “It is always like Bedlam around here.” She rubbed her brow. “I confess that it has been somewhat trying at times.”

“Do not concern yourself, Miss Wingfield. You are in good hands. I shall establish an orderly household routine for the boys that will enable you to carry on with your work. Speaking of which, I must say I am very impressed by your library.”

“Thank you.” Momentarily distracted by the comment, Olympia glanced around the room with pride and affection. “I inherited the majority of my books from Aunt Sophy and Aunt Ida. In their younger days they traveled widely and they collected books and manuscripts everywhere they went. There are many, many treasures in this room.”

Jared managed to drag his gaze away from Olympia long enough to examine her library more closely. The room was as unexpected and intriguing as the woman herself.

It was a scholar’s retreat, crammed with volumes, maps, and globes. There was not a book of pressed flowers or a sewing basket in sight. Olympia’s desk was a large and substantial item of furniture made of highly polished mahogany. It bore no resemblance to the delicate little writing tables most ladies used. In fact, Jared thought, it reminded him of his own library desk.

“About your position here, Mr. Chillhurst.” Olympia frowned uncertainly. “I suppose I ought to ask for references. Mrs. Milton, a neighbor of mine, has informed me that one should never hire a tutor who does not provide excellent references from several sources.”

Jared glanced back at her. “Your uncle sent me. I assumed that would be sufficient recommendation.”

“Oh, yes.” Olympia’s expression cleared. “Yes, of course. What better reference could you possibly have?”

“I’m glad you feel that way.”

“That’s settled, then.” Olympia was obviously relieved not to have to worry about such pesky details as
a tutor’s references. Her eyes grew wistful. “You say you met Uncle Artemis in France?”

“Yes. I was en route to England from Spain.”

“You have been to Spain?” Olympia was obviously entranced. “I have always wanted to go to Spain. And to Italy and Greece.”

“I have been to all of those places, as it happens.” Jared paused to study her reaction. “And to the West Indies and America.”

“How thrilling, sir. And how I do envy you. You are, indeed, a man of the world.”

“Some would say so,” Jared agreed. He was only a man, he thought with rueful amusement. He could not help but be warmed by the light of feminine admiration that he glimpsed in the siren’s eyes.

“You are no doubt well versed in the customs of the inhabitants of other lands, I should imagine.” Olympia looked at him expectantly.

“I have made a few such observations,” Jared said.

“I consider myself a woman of the world because of the excellent education I received from my aunts,” Olympia confided. “But I have never had the opportunity to actually travel abroad. My aunts were not well off in their later years. I get by on the small inheritance I received from them but it is certainly not enough to finance an interesting journey.”

“I understand.” Jared smiled slightly at the notion of Olympia as a woman of the world. “Now then, there are perhaps one or two small matters we should discuss about my position in this household, Miss Wingfield.”