Improper Pleasures (The Pleasure Series #1) (5 page)

“James is new to his position and you are giving him the
wrong impression, Mother. He needs our assistance in learning our customs.”
Astra glanced apologetically at James.

Her mother finally released his hand. “Kissing a lady’s
hand is very Continental. I prefer it.”

“But traditionally, it is not how it’s done here. And
certainly not while a man is disrobed.” In her attempt to avoid gaping at
James, Astra spotted Mr. Rudd, valet to the last three Lord Keanes, standing on
the far side of the room. He clutched James’s boots and shirt tightly to his
chest, a sneer pulling at his permanently down-turned features. A toppled chair
acted as a temporary barricade.

“I can’t seem to make this man understand that I’ve been
dressing myself since I was out of the nursery. I don’t need of a manservant to
assist me.” James folded his arms over his bare chest, flexing muscles in his
biceps. Astra tried not to stare but her mother nodded with an appreciative
smile.

 “Believe me when I say that I don’t usually receive
female visitors half-clothed.” He tucked his hands under his arms as if
shielding himself and lowered his head.

“I do hope you are just being polite, Lord Keane.” Her
mother fanned her face with her hand, pausing to examine James over the curve
of her long fingers. “Please do not feel the need to change your customs.”

“I’ll have no lord of mine dressed like a common seaman.”
Mr. Rudd spat each word in a clipped threat.

James tensed. Astra seriously feared the confrontation would
end in bloodshed.

“I laid him out a perfectly good shirt and a brand new
pair of boots that Master Trent never even unwrapped.” Mr. Rudd softened his
tone to mildly disrespectful.

“They’re not my clothes.” James unfolded his arms and
balled his fists.

“Please, James, consider the clothes Mr. Rudd has
provided.” The plea from Lady Phillina caused both men to startle, then
instantly ease their fighting stances. “I would be honored to have you wear my
son’s clothes. You look so much like a Keane.”

“Thank you for your generosity, ma’am. Excuse me.” James
bowed and took a step backward.

Mr. Rudd tried to escape from the suite with James’s
confiscated boots and shirt, but James lunged for him. Lady Phillina’s laugh
stopped James before he could wrestle the goods from Mr. Rudd.

“He shall return your boots polished and stitched. Is that
not so, Mr. Rudd?”

“They are a disgrace, my lady.” Mr. Rudd stepped out of
James’s reach. “Not fit for a Lord Keane.”

“But they are his. Notify the local tailor that Lord Keane
shall require a few items to fill out his wardrobe.”

“My clothes are fine,” James said. “But thank you, ma’am.”

“Call me Auntie Phillina. Please.” Her smile wobbled and
tears pooled in the corners of her eyes. “I am so happy to have finally made
your acquaintance, James Keane. Though I was terribly saddened to hear of the
loss of your father.”

“You knew my father?” James asked, clearly surprised. For
the first time, Astra realized how truly unprepared James had been for his
sudden inheritance. He still appeared baffled by all it entailed and the family
who came with it. James tensed and the muscles in his chest deliciously
tightened. Astra experienced a rush of heat and a similar contraction in a
place she desperately tried to ignore. A sprinkling of golden-brown hair
stretched across his nipples then trailed down his lean stomach, disappearing
beneath his breeches. Astra gripped her hands together, trying and failing to
avoid picturing other parts of his athletic body.

“Perhaps we should allow James to make himself
presentable?” Astra’s voice was unsteady and earned a smirk from her mother.

“It broke all our hearts when your father left for
America,” Lady Phillina continued, ignoring Astra’s plea. “You look so much
like him. All the Keane men share your robust good looks. Except for Lowell. He
took after me, but I like to think he was special in other ways.”

“I must be consulted on the fitting of Lord Keane’s
wardrobe,” her mother said as she strolled in front of James.

Astra was grateful for the distraction. Talk of Lowell
would always make her heart heavy.

Her mother’s hazel eyes, one of the few features they
shared, sparked with open interest. “I know what is fashionable in London these
days. Tight breeches. That’s the thing for you, Lord Keane.” Her mother raised
her dark eyebrows suggestively, then laughed at James’s horrified expression.
“Oh what a delight you are. Eastlan has been so boring since Trent”—her mother
glanced at Lady Phillina and swallowed her usual complaint about the appeal of West
Country life—“left us.”

Astra’s mother enjoyed bringing up the fact whenever she
had the chance that Trent was eaten by his pet tiger. Unfortunately, Astra
suspected the Keane name could not be spoken in society without the gruesome
details being retold. Thankfully Astra hadn’t been to London since the accident
and only had to hear such things from her mother.

“Thank you both, but I’m sure my own clothes will
suffice.” James shifted under her mother’s overly familiar regard. “If you’ll
excuse me, I’ll put on the items Mr. Rudd was so thoughtful to provide.” James
gave Mr. Rudd a warning glance before he turned and strode into the adjoining
bedroom.

Mr. Rudd slipped from the suite while Astra tried in vain
to suppress a scorching image of what she had witnessed behind that particular
door, the one James had this time remembered to close.

“Oh, he is lovely.” Her mother twirled to face them in a
flash of vermillion skirts. “London is in for a treat.”

“I don’t believe he intends to visit London,” said Astra
too quickly. At least she hoped so. The sooner he left Eastlan the better.

“He shall have to appear next season to take his seat in
the House of Lords,” insisted Lady Phillina. “Lowell was never able to make the
journey. The Keanes need to be represented again.” No matter how much the idea
disturbed her, Astra dare not dissuade Phillina of the notion. Meeting James
marked the first occasion the matron Keane had spoken of remaining with the
living for any extended period of time since Lowell’s death. At least James’s
arrival seemed to have perked her up.

James returned wearing a pressed shirt with an abundance
of lace and sleeves too short, exposing his thick wrists. An embroidered
waistcoat topped the ill-fitting garment, sporadically buttoned wherever
James’s bulk would allow. He shrugged on an unadorned dark blue coat that
obviously belonged to his own rustic wardrobe.

“I suppose these might stretch and be tolerable.” He examined
the highly polished boots, his frown not completely hiding the fact that he
probably recognized their quality. “But I want my own clothes returned.”

He glanced at Astra, and she nodded at the demand he
directed to her.

“I shall see to it.” Though they had agreed that she would
continue to run the household, the intimacy of the exchange suddenly struck her
as more than just part of their practical bargain. He was already depending on
her.

“Perhaps I wasn’t fair in asking for you to fit into my
son’s wardrobe.” Lady Phillina sighed. “But thank you for accommodating an old
woman’s wishes. Again, forgive my delay in welcoming you properly.”

“Thank you”— James paused—“Aunt Phillina. I heard you
haven’t been well.”

Lady Phillina reached out her hand. “Please, come here,
James. Let me have a better look at you.”

He took Lady Phillina’s hand and dropped to one knee in
front of her chair, bringing them both eye-to-eye.

Lady Phillina grazed her fingertips over James’s cheek. “I
am so glad you have come to carry on our legacy. To think I feared the Keanes
had died out, except for my beautiful Lark of course. I thought I had nothing
left to live for in this life. But now you are here.”

“I hope I’m not going to be a disappointment. I don’t know
much about being a baron.” The sincerity of his words struck Astra with a
softening toward him that she hadn’t expected. He was showing himself to be
vulnerable, which would not help him fit in. She would have to make sure she
broke him of the habit of speaking his mind so openly, even if she found it
terribly endearing.

“We are all here to help you, Lord Keane. And you have
already surpassed our expectations, has he not, Astra?” Her mother directed a
knowing gaze to Astra, lingering long enough to evoke dread, before homing in
again on James. “You will show the world that the Keanes are not dead and
buried. And certainly not cursed.”

Astra strode to her mother’s side and squeezed her arm in
a silent warning to say no more. Her mother had mentioned this nonsense before,
but Astra had ignored it, considering the source.

“Lady Phillina should be happy to know that many of those
awful gossips forfeited a good deal of their fortunes since James’s safe
arrival in England.” Her mother shook off Astra’s grip with a smug smile. She
leaned on the back of Lady Phillina’s chair and gazed down at James. “I, on the
other hand, made out like a highway robber. For those who wish to recoup their
losses, Whites is already fielding wagers that James won’t last the year.”

“Cursed? I don’t understand,” Lady Phillina said, though
her face grew pale.

“How could you wager on our misfortune, Mother?” Astra
turned away, unable to watch her examine James like a prize bull at the
Cornwall Royal Faire. “You, no doubt, are the one who started such rumors and
the gaming to make yourself a more interesting house guest.”

“Well, I didn’t bet against you, did I, darling?” Her
mother winked at Astra, but was still leaning over, flashing much too much
cleavage in James’s direction. Her mother’s famous figure was something Astra
hadn’t inherited. And if she had, she hoped she would have been a thousand times
more discreet.

James stood. “So they think an American isn’t up to the
task of being an English aristocrat?”

“Heavens, no. They thought you wouldn’t live to inherit
the title. It seems the Lords Keane inherited a significantly shortened life
along with their barony,” her mother whispered theatrically.

“How can you be so crass about circumstances that can only
be described as tragic? I lost my husband, Mother, in case you have forgotten.
And Lady Phillina, has mourned two sons, not to mention the man she loved.”
Astra felt James’s curious gaze on her, but could not meet it. Her fate had
also been altered by the deaths, and she sometimes wondered if she herself were
cursed.

“Please, Astra,” intervened Lady Phillina. “Do not argue
with your mother. All that sorrow is in the past. We have James now, and I
think all talk of wagers will end after our ball.”

“We’re having a ball?” James strode toward Astra, and she
could no longer avoid him. He held her gaze with a subtle threat that made her
tingle all over.

“Lady Phillina, we no longer have a townhouse in London,
and I am sure all the fashionable accommodations are already leased,” Astra
said gently, wondering if the older woman even recalled that the Keanes had
been in self-imposed seclusion since their string of misfortunes.

“This all sounds very expensive.” James went to his desk
and flipped open the leather-bound ledger he had confronted her with the night
before.

“We shall hold our ball at Eastlan, of course,” declared
Lady Phillina, “during Parliament’s Easter break. We must not delay in
introducing James properly.”

“We won’t be able to make arrangements in such short a
time,” Astra argued calmly, counting the weeks in her head. “Easter week is in
little more than a month, and we are hardly out of mourning.”

“And what better way to welcome our friends and peers back
into our lives,” Lady Phillina said, sounding almost giddy with the idea.
“Lynette will help us, won’t you, dear? We should be in debt for the boon of
your guidance.”

“Nothing would please me more. And as it is, I am between
engagements at the moment.” Her mother’s eagerness to stay in the country for
longer than a fortnight boded ill for them all. The smile the two women
exchanged worried Astra even more.

“Oh, I must attend to my correspondence then.” Lady
Phillina pushed herself to a standing position, grabbing Astra’s mother for
balance. “Excuse me, James, for cutting our first visit short but I wish to
make your party spectacular. I have much to do. Astra, be a dear and help me to
my room?”

“We’ve not a single moment to spare.” Her mother wrapped
her arm around Lady Phillina’s shoulders. “Astra, you must stay and discuss
particulars for the ball with James.” Her mother winked at Astra, and she
prayed James had not noticed. “I shall have no problem escorting Lady Phillina
back to her room. The little dear weighs less than a church mouse.”

“I intend to be plump and glowing with health by the time
of our ball.” Lady Phillina waved goodbye over her shoulder.

Her mother escaped with Lady Phillina before Astra could
object. James closed the door behind them, then turned and stared expectantly
at Astra. “Ready to earn your keep?”

“Excuse me?” Astra stared longingly at the door blocked by
James’s bulk.

“I’ll agree to the ball only because it seems like the
most direct way to be accepted as the new baron, but you need to persuade Lady
Phillina to keep the guest list to a minimum. I’d prefer to put any extra money
I can scrape together into our sheep herd rather than feed a bunch of bloated
aristocrats.”

“Many peers choose to stay in London until the fall.
Hopefully our attendance will consist mainly of the local gentry.” Or so Astra prayed,
but some scandalmongers might make the long trip to Cornwall out of morbid
curiosity. None of the Keanes had been seen in Town since Trent’s grizzly
death. Thankfully, the tiger’s cage had been removed and a large bank of roses
now grew in its place. Astra strode across the room. “You must know it’s not
proper for me to be alone with you.”