Improper Pleasures (The Pleasure Series #1) (38 page)

James banged on the door of the deserted dowager house,
and was surprised when the heavy barrier swung open of its own accord. Inside,
a dusty gloom settled on what had once been extravagant furnishings. A
chandelier hung from the ceiling and marble tile dully gleamed through a layer
of dirty footprints. James cautiously tread down the hall, weaponless as Wesley
requested. James didn’t need a weapon. If he got his hands on Wesley, Blackmore
wouldn’t need to shoot him. Hutton would already be dead.

“Astra?” he called, unable to stand the silence a moment
longer. Surely Hutton expected James to follow the instructions of his note.
The outside script belonged to another, but the neat request that James deliver
five thousand pounds in notes from the Bank of England was penned by Hutton
himself. The fact that the notes could not be traced to James’s bank had promise
that Wesley was ready to escape, but the paltry sum hinted that he had other
plans.

“Astra?” James called again. What the hell was Hutton up
to?

“James!” he heard her muffled shriek coming from upstairs.

James bolted up the stairs three at a time. “I’m here.
What room are you in?”

He found her by the sound of her voice before she had a
chance to explain. A swift kick at the door broke the ancient lock. She flew
into his arms, but James quickly set her away from him, ignoring the surge of
relief that threatened to weaken his resolve.

“Do you know where Wesley is?”

She shook her head. “He tricked me into following him.”

“We can talk about it later. We need to leave
immediately.”

“Melva was here,” she whispered near his ear as they
cautiously made their way down the stairs. The ease of their escape urged James
to slow his pace. Something was not right. They reached the bottom floor and
James treaded lightly, his boots creating a haunting echo against the littered
marble. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. A candle glowed from a
room near the front of the house, seeping into the shadowed hall. James was
sure it had been completely dark before. He’d glanced in the sitting room but
had thought it deserted.

“Going so soon?” They heard Wesley call from the
candle-lit parlor.

James stopped and Astra clutched his sleeve urging him
toward the front door. They would have to pass the side room to escape. The
need to wrap his hands around Wesley’s neck pulsed through James with primal
appeal, but was a mere distraction in comparison to his desire to see Astra and
their unborn child to safety. James would gladly transfer his uncanny ability
for survival, learn to live like other mortal men, if it would secure Astra’s
safety. He no longer needed nine lives when he only wanted one, and it all
depended on the woman clutching his arm so desperately. With any luck, he could
block her with his body and slip past the room.

“I would have thought Astra would wish to say goodbye,”
Wesley called again, his tone chillingly calm. “To Lark.”

Astra froze, glanced at James then bolted for the sitting
room. Fortunately, James was able to stop her before she entered. She struggled
out of his grip and Wesley laughed.

“No!” she screamed.

The broken sound of her voice unnerved James but all his
attention was on restraining Astra without hurting her. She began to sob and
James was forced to lift his gaze.

Wesley sat across the room, Lark draped across his lap,
unmoving.

“It hurts, Astra, doesn’t it? Seeing the thing you love
most in the world in the arms of another.”

“What have you done?” she wailed. She tugged against the
restraint on her arm again, but James held her firmly.

Wesley readjusted Lark, her head and limbs flopping at
awkward angles. James noted that Lark was not stiff. And her cheeks looked
flush. He wanted to tell Astra that he thought her alive but was afraid Wesley
would overhear. Wesley was playing them all like marionettes and James didn’t
want to aid him in his cruel scheme.

“You should calm yourself, Astra.” Wesley stroked Lark’s
blond hair. “I heard too much excitement could cause a miscarriage.”

“Let me hold her. Please,” begged Astra. Her voice broke
and she trembled, barely containing herself.

James’s fear cranked a notch higher. Wesley knew about the
baby and causing Astra to miscarry was exactly what Wesley likely desired.

“And she could bleed to death if she does. Is that what
you want?” James hoped Wesley truly did love Astra because he would have no
other reason to keep her alive.

Lark stirred, moving her head until it rested in the crook
of Wesley’s arm.

Astra gasped at the sure sign that her daughter was still
alive. “What do you want? Please.”

“Firstly, I wish for you to know what I have done.
Everything that I did for you. Come. Sit. Both of you.”

Astra rushed to do as Wesley bid, sitting on the sofa next
to Wesley’s chair, leaning as close to her daughter as possible. While Astra
kept her gaze on Lark, James watched Wesley. He smiled and let James see the
pistol he clutched loosely in his right hand.

“Wesley, I never asked you to do anything for me.” The
tremble in Astra’s voice belied her calm reasoning. “Please, let me hold Lark
while we talk. I know she’s heavy.”

“I enjoy holding her. Lark’s is the one who gave me hope,
you know. Made me realize that I had a chance to be more than a poor relation.
She never cared for me though. I figured that would change when I became her
father.”

James strode to sit on the sofa beside Astra, but Wesley
directed him to sit in a chair across the room.

“Just give me, Lark.” Astra reached for her, but Wesley
gave her a warning look that instantly stilled her. “You should leave the
country. James will do nothing to stop you.”

Astra shot James a pleading glance. “I have the notes you
requested.” James reached in the inside pocket of his jacket. Blackmore had
come through with that as well, something James could not have obtained on his
own in so short a period of time. Hutton didn’t try to stop him, fully aware
that he had the upper hand. If James was a better shot, he would have taken the
chance of wiping away Hutton’s smirk. But he was not and another reason he’d
come unarmed.

James waved the bank notes and slowly laid them on a low
table in front of the sofa, then returned to his orchestrated position.

“That will come in handy. Thank you.” Wesley’s continued
calm was even more unnerving. “So let’s begin at the beginning. I saved you,
Astra. I saved you from ruin. And look how you repaid me.”

“I never asked you to take money from Eastlan.”

“Not that. Trent. I stopped him from ruining your name.
Neither you nor Lark would ever have had a moment’s peace if it weren’t for
me.”

“You killed him.” James ground his teeth to stop the blind
fury that threatened to spiral out of control. That he wasn’t surprised by the
depth of Wesley’s crimes turned James’s anger on himself. James had made a
mistake in not beating Hutton at his own game. He should have killed him when he’d
had the chance. And he would. His live and let live philosophy did not suit his
new position as father and husband. Wesley wouldn’t leave this room alive, even
if James didn’t either. The pistol Wesley held had only one shot. James
intended to make sure he used it on him, and the sooner the better. Rudd and
Blackmore would hear the blast and rescue his family before Wesley could
reload.

“No, the tiger took care of Trent. I just shut the cage
door. I did not mean to kill him though. I went to talk to him. To ask him to
stop spreading lies about Astra. I waited until he went into the cage to feed
the damn thing, no one else would, you know. I shut the gate in case Trent lost
his temper. He did, of course. The tiger took it personally and no more Trent.
No more problem. I like to think of it as divine intervention.”

And so had Astra. The horror of her secret wishes curled
around her heart and she prayed to God for forgiveness. For being grateful at
the cost of another’s life. Surely God would not hurt Lark, Trent’s daughter,
because of Astra’s selfishness. Astra, her palms itching with the need to hold
her, studied Lark closely. Lark groaned and shifted again. Her right leg
twitched. She suspected Wesley had given her opium. She recognized the effect
from watching Lowell sleep after a particularly horrible bout of illness.

“And Lowell, what was that?” James asked. “Tell us about
poisoning a man who thought of you as his best friend, all so you could steal
his land and his wife? That’s something to be proud of.”

Astra glared at James, silently warning him not to provoke
Wesley.

“That was the hardest thing I have ever done in my life.” Wesley
turned to Astra. “I never wanted to hurt Lowell, but even he knew he was not
the husband you needed, Astra.”

Astra slowly met Wesley’s gaze, his admission still
shocking despite the fact he held her unconscious daughter in his arms. “I never
would have believed you could harm Lowell. Never.”

“And I never wanted you to know.” Wesley’s gaze softened
to his former harmless facade, shocking Astra with the change. “I saw how hard
you tried to be good to him, but I also saw that you were withering from the
inside out. You needed so much more. You needed sun and laughter and fresh air.
We could have had such a wonderful life together. We still can.”

“No!” She stopped herself from telling him she loved
James. She swallowed her need to protect James and tried to think of a reason
Wesley should let the two people she cared for most in the world, her daughter
and James, live. “It’s too late. Someone will suspect—”

 “I’ve already notified the magistrate,” James
interrupted. “If anything happens to me, you will be his first suspect. But I’m
willing to let you walk out this door if you hand Lark over to Astra.”

Wesley tightened his grip on Lark, holding her against his
chest. “When Lark was born, and she was a girl, it struck me that I could
inherit Eastlan. Lowell had not been expected to reach adulthood. Every year
was a struggle. I thought there was no one else. How wrong I was.”

“Wesley, what are you going to do?” Astra said, trying to
find reason in the part of him she had once valued as a friend.

“That depends on you, Astra. Support my story, and you
will have all you’ve ever wanted.”

Except James.
She kept her gaze averted from him.
“What do you wish for me to do?”

Wesley smiled, stood and handed Lark to Astra. She hugged
her so tightly, she was sure she would cry out if she were awake.

“I gave her one of Lowell’s tinctures. Told her it was a
special potion that would make her a fairy so she could protect her new
brother. She is quite taken with the idea.”

“And if I help you, will you not harm the child I carry,
my baby?” She purposely emphasized the word
my
and avoided looking at
James.

“Don’t trust him, Astra,” she heard James say. She heard
the fear in his voice and suspected he knew what she was about. Not that she
had a clear plan but she would do what she had to in order to protect those she
loved. All of them.

“No, I will allow you that.” He held her gaze so sincerely
she would have believed him only yesterday. Only the hollow tone of Wesley’s
voice revealed that he was lying. But then of course, an infant would be so
easy to dispose of with no questions asked.

“What of Melva? She will not take lightly to being cast
aside.” Astra raised her voice, praying Melva would come to her senses and find
help.

“Oh yes, that piece of baggage has outlasted her use. And
that’s why my plan is so brilliant. Melva shall hang herself over James’s
lifeless body. She shoots him when he comes to pay her off with a measly five
thousand pounds.”

Astra gasped, and held her hand over her mouth.

“Oh, she won’t feel a thing. I’ve already sedated her.
She’s in the kitchen.” Wesley turned to James, a pistol she had not noticed
before in his hand. “And you, James Keane, will be a pleasure to dispense with.
You must be the devil himself because I have never seen a man escape death as
you have.”

James shrugged. “It’s a gift.”

“A gift that’s run out.”

“Wait!” Astra stood. “Not here. What if Lark wakes up?”

“Send Astra outside. I don’t want you to kill me in front
of her.” James’s voice was surprisingly calm.

“You really do love her, don’t you?” Wesley laughed. “That
will give me much pleasure to know when I share her bed every night. I’ll think
of you often.”

“You’re too kind,” James said sarcastically. “But, I don’t
think you can do it. Shoot me in cold blood.”

“I most certainly can.”

“Then do it,” James urged. “But send Astra outside first.
You don’t want her to see you snivel, do you?”

Wesley raised his gun at James. “I’m not going to snivel.
I’m going to laugh.”

“And I’m going to be sick. I think you should poison him
instead.” Astra said, the conversation seemed so absurd, she would say
anything, promise anything, to postpone the inevitable. It was as if James
wanted Wesley to shoot him.

“I tried arsenic, but it didn’t work. I feared if I used a
stronger dose, he would go into convulsions on the spot, which would make my
handiwork vulgar. I think he got so drunk he vomited much of the poison. You
were a disgrace to the Keane name that night, by the way. He defiled your rose
bushes, Astra. I saw him.”

James stood. “I don’t have to take this sitting down.”

Wesley instinctively backed up a step and the pistol
wavered before Wesley adjusted his aim. He was afraid of shooting James. Or so
she hoped. All of his other victims had been done away with through passive
means. And as far as she knew, Wesley had never shot a living thing before. He
always found an excuse not to join the rest of the men in the hunt.

But she could not take that chance. He did hate James. A
woman and child would be a different matter.