Improper Pleasures (The Pleasure Series #1) (7 page)

Astra pressed a hand to her swollen lips, sure their
mutual ravaging had left her bruised. She made an attempt to flee, but James
caught her arm and held her.

“I must go before anyone else stumbles upon us. James, to
be discovered would ruin me.”

“Wait. Let me leave first so I can occupy Wesley. He’s
much too interested in your every move for my tastes.”

“And well he should be. Look how I have behaved.” Shame
scalded her face with a fiery wash. She had already ruined herself once, but
now she had Lark to consider. There was much more at stake.

“I much prefer the wanton Astra to the righteous Lady
Keane.” He tried to caress her hair, leaning his head toward her as if he meant
to kiss her again.

She jerked from his grip. “What are you thinking?” Her
voice was a shrill whisper. “If Wesley were to have caught us, he would be
horrified.” Astra swallowed, and tried to stop her racing heart. The
humiliation would have been unbearable. Wesley would surely regret his loyal
friendship, rightfully branding her as the title-chasing social-climber she had
often been rumored to be in the past.

She paced to the far side of the room, distancing herself
from James and the temptation she had little will to resist even now, missing
the comfort and excitement of feeling his body so close against hers.

“You should go before he returns.” She glanced at James to
find him tugging at his shirt. Unfortunately, the ill-fitting garment failed to
hang far enough to cover the obvious bulge in his buff-colored breeches.

“I have to give it a moment.” He met her gaze and grinned.
“The coat will help but it’s in the other room.”

Astra covered her eyes and turned her face away. His
casual manner proved he most likely did this sort of thing all the time. Had
she so quickly forgotten his recent liaison with the maid?

“Please, James. Never try to kiss me again. You are
correct. I am not the prim and proper widow I claim to be. You win. Let us
never speak of it again.”

He took a step nearer. “I didn’t kiss you to win
anything.”

“Whatever the reason, please understand that you could
ruin me. Not only socially, but in every way.” She paused, her throat tightened
and she struggled to compose herself. She wasn’t sure if the rush of emotion
sprung from a pain that should have been long buried or from a new wound—the
loss of the woman she must forever forfeit for the sake of propriety—for the
sake of her daughter.

“I didn’t bring you in here to seduce you, Astra.” All
traces of humor had left his voice but she refused to believe he cared a wit
that she was near hysterics.

“You didn’t have to, did you? I was quite willing without
the least bit of encouragement.” Apparently she had not learned a thing from
her first love. “Perhaps it best for me to find other living arrangements until
your departure.”

“It was only a kiss. Please don’t think you must leave. We
have an arrangement that suits us both and there’s no need for that to change.
Let’s talk of this later.” James headed for the door.

He gripped the door handle, then glanced over his
shoulder. “I won’t say I’m sorry, because I’m not, but I can promise you that I
won’t touch you again if that’s your wish.”

Astra nodded and turned away, unable to lie and say that
was exactly what she wanted.

“Astra, why ruin the lovely lavender with that black
shawl? You have the jet necklace.” Her mother sauntered to where Astra stood
before the cherry wood cheval mirror, admiring the fit of her current favorite
gown. She had to admit, she was glad to see herself in something other than
solid black, though Lady Phillina’s gentle suggestion that it was past time to
abandon her severe mourning clothes at first stirred panic.

“It would hardly be considered half-mourning without a bit
of black. And the bodice is too low without the scarf.” The lavender bodice
with a matching white and lavender striped skirt was as festive as she dare be.
Knowing she would face James again soon, she needed something to hide the blush
that would surely erupt over every ounce of skin the moment they made eye
contact.

“I’d wager James wouldn’t think the dip in your neckline
inappropriate.” Her mother’s vibrant gown in shimmering aquamarine and
feathered coiffure looked more appropriate for a night at the opera rather than
a quiet dinner at home.

“James has much to learn about English propriety.” And so
did Astra. She took a cleansing breath to quell her flush of guilt. She should
never have let him kiss her. What sins she’d committed by watching him with the
maid were too disturbing to even consider.

“He’s a man, darling. A real man. They do things
differently. English or not.”

Astra turned away from the tall oval mirror before her
mother could register her distress. “So, what plans did you two make for the
ball? You never said.” Her mother’s curious tone warned that she may already
suspect their mutual breach of propriety. Her mother was never interested in
anything mundane and socially acceptable.

“Our meeting was postponed. Lord Keane had another
appointment.” Astra managed to keep her tone crisp and cool. Hopefully she
could maintain the façade for the rest of the evening.

“Oh, I bet he hated that. Wait until he sees you tonight.
Even with that dreary black cloth you’re using to disguise your pretty dress.
You are absolutely glowing this evening. You know, Astra, if you can pretend to
be anything other than dour, you’ll have no problem getting James on his knees
within the week.”

Astra strolled to her dressing mirror and dusted some
powder over her flushed cheeks. The reverse was more likely if she didn’t keep
her distance. “As usual, you have no idea what you speak of, Mother. There is
nothing between James and I. We are cousins by marriage and he is several years
younger than me.”

“Don’t be silly, Astra. Three years does not make several.
And it’s obvious that he’s not been sheltered those years as have you. James
Keane is ripe for plucking. He doesn’t seem like a patient man. You’re a grown
woman now with no time to waste in playing coy.”

“He hasn’t proposed, and I assure you, he has no intention
of doing so.” Astra tucked a stray strand of hair back into its proper place.
As if her mother ever thought there was a time for coquettish restraint.

“You need some rouge.” Her mother’s reflection appeared
beside Astra’s in the mirror. The older woman’s dark hair was piled artfully
atop her head and her lips artificially red. In comparison, Astra did appear a
bit wan. “A formal proposal isn’t what I’m referring to and you know it.”

Astra closed her eyes so she wouldn’t have to look into
her mother’s penetrating stare.

“Lure him alone,” she said near Astra’s ear. Her mother
tugged at the blond strand she had recently replaced and whisked away the scarf
Astra had draped around her neckline.

Astra opened her eyes, instantly taken by the
transformation. The jet-black necklace hung seductively against her pale skin,
her lavender neckline softly outlining her round breasts pushed up by her
corset. Astra recognized the young woman, one full of hope and possibilities,
the woman she had once been before betrayal and heartache wore her down. James
had done this by his stolen kiss and honest desire. Astra had not thought of
herself as pretty since Lark had been conceived. No, it was after that. The
morning after to be precise.

“Nature will do the rest,” her mother squeezed her bared
shoulders. “Trust me.”

Astra slid away from the mirror and her mother’s cloying
attention. “I trusted you before and the results were disastrous.”

“I would say it all worked out for the best. And here you
are, in a fine position again and with the prospect of such a man as James
warming your bed. Perhaps he’s not ready to propose but you should become his
mistress with all haste.”

Astra sucked in a hot, painful breath, and turned around
to glare at her mother. “Are you mad?”

A knock on the door cut short her mother’s dangerous
diatribe. Astra turned to the window to compose herself, allowing her mother to
glide across the carpet to the chorus of her stiff skirts. If her mother had
any notion of the precarious state of her inheritance, her arguments might
easily persuade Astra to abandon reason.

“James! Speak of the devil. How wonderful to see you. Have
you come to escort Astra to dinner?” Her mother’s delighted voice sliced
through Astra’s fragile composure.

Astra clenched her fist against her rebellious stomach.
The person she wanted to see least in this world stood at the door.

***

James cleared his throat to keep from gaping at Astra. The
curve-hugging gown she wore must have been specifically designed to disconcert
the male population. He had no idea her shoulders would be so pale, so smooth.
Perhaps he really was the lecherous oaf he’d portrayed this afternoon. Just the
curve of her neck was making him randy as hell. What happened to the black
concoction that covered her from chin to toe?

“I’d be honored to escort Astra to dinner, if she’ll allow
me the pleasure.” He bowed, trying to appear humble and tame.

Astra’s mother, Lady Seabrook, laughed too loudly. “Of
course she’ll allow you, you silly boy. Who could she say no to you? Come in,
for goodness sakes. You don’t have to linger on the threshold like a beggar.
After all, this is your house and you have a right to anything and everything
in it.”

James had a sinking feeling that Astra had recounted what
had gone on between them this afternoon. Not that he understood it so well
himself. He was so sure what he’d witnessed in the mirror was pure lust. All
her blushes and hot looks since then had only confirmed his assumptions, not to
mention become a crazy distraction. He glanced around the simple room only to
discover he had probably misread Astra completely. The room was almost sparse,
a cream spread and sheer yellow hangings from the plain cherry wood bed proved
the most elaborate adornments. The papered walls in faded pink roses needed
replacing. All very innocent, maidenly and understated. Her panic at his kiss already
had James questioning everything he’d assumed about Astra. Her bedroom
confirmed his error.

“Thank you, Mother. Shall we go to dinner?” Astra marched
to the door, refusing to even glance in James’s direction while she tried to
slip past him. “I’m sure Wesley is famished. I think he grew accustomed to the
meals at an earlier hour. No doubt the change has vexed him.”

James rooted in the doorway, blocking her escape. “I’d
like to speak with you alone for a moment, Lady Keane. Please,” he added,
determined to clear matters up between them once and for all.

“Of course, James. And by all means, call her Astra. No
need to be so formal. I shall wait with Wesley below stairs. Take your time.”
Lady Seabrook danced from the room loudly closing the door behind her.

“I don’t wish to be alone with you.” The tremble in
Astra’s voice hit him like a blow.

“I’m not going to do anything to offend you. I promise,”
James said. “After time for consideration, I suppose I do owe you an apology
for my behavior. All of it.” James hoped to avoid specifics and slide by with a
general acknowledgement of blame.

“Are those the clothes the tailor brought?” A grin relaxed
her tight features and James had the slightest softening for Mr. Rudd. “I’m
certainly not an expert on the latest fashion, but I think the cut a bit out of
date.”

“I missed the tailor. And I tore my other clothes.” James
shrugged, glad to look ridiculous if it made her smile.

Astra’s shocked blink forced him to explain further. “My
saddle broke and I had to walk home in the rain for several miles.”

“You could have been seriously injured.” A frown once
again marred her pretty face.

“I wasn’t unless you count my pride. It was my own fault
for jumping a stone fence. I’m lucky the horse wasn’t hurt. Mr. Rudd squeezed
me into this. I feel like I’m wearing the drapes, but it’s no more than I
deserve.” James shoved his hands into the large pockets of the skirt attached
to his satin coat.

Astra approached him to examine the cream and pink swirls
at the lapels and pockets. She fingered an outlandishly large and ornate
button. He lifted his arms so she could better ridicule the snug fitting vest
crawling with pink and red flowers. His body tightened at her light touch but
he scolded himself not to react to it. He’d better get used to wanting her
without relief if he wanted to sail away from England without complications. He
lowered his arms abruptly and stepped back.

“Mr. Rudd picked this out for you? He must have unearthed
these clothes from Lowell’s grandfather’s wardrobe.” She clasped her hands in
front of her and appeared embarrassed by her forwardness. Though a no-touching
rule for her, as well as him, was in both their best interest, he didn’t want
that at all.

“He said the second baron’s clothes would be the best
fit.” He spread his arms again, opening the coat, examining the fit, stupidly
inviting her to do the same. “I didn’t have the strength to argue when he
dragged this atrocity out of a dusty trunk.”

“It suits you.” The hint of laughter that rang through her
voice was worth the ruffles poking from his vest. Though she didn’t touch him
again, it was enough for now.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you,” he said quickly. “I’ve
proved myself the brute you expected me to be.”

“Don’t feel you need to placate me, James.” She turned
away, but not before her smile collapsed. “I’d prefer it if we acted like what
happened this afternoon never occurred.”

“I’m not placating.” James fought the urge to reach out
and grip her shoulders, knowing that would only lead him into trouble. He
stuffed his hands in his pockets once again. I just want you to know that I
understand your position and I know I need your help. I have sisters. I
wouldn’t want some stranger barging into their home assuming he owned the place
and acting as I did.”