Improper Pleasures (The Pleasure Series #1) (9 page)

“I’m hardly out of mourning.” Astra smoothed her dove grey
skirt. “But Lord Keane has agreed to allow Lady Phillina to remain at Eastlan.
She hasn’t been well for some years and Lowell’s passing added to the strain. I
feel I must stay on for her sake as well as the integrity of the Keane family
name.”

Ivy nodded. “You were always the smart one, Astra. I wish
a bit of your caution had rubbed off on me. You are wise to keep your eyes on
the family reputation. A young scoundrel like the new lord could cause quite a
scandal which might harm Lark’s prospects for a smart match. Even London is
becoming puritanical again.”

“James is not a scoundrel.” Astra glanced up to find Ivy’s
curious gaze and astute smirk leveled upon her. Though Astra had thought James
a reprobate a mere few days ago, her attitude had softened considerably. “He
has been quite unexpected in every way. And yes, I’ll admit he is terribly
attractive.”

“Do I see a love match afoot?”

Astra’s smile faded. In all her secret desires for James,
love never came into it. “No, I would not fall into such a folly twice. I have
a daughter whose future I must ensure.”

Ivy set her cup down. “We were both full of foolish dreams
back then. I’m sorry yours did not work the way you intended.”

“Or yours.” Astra found the courage to meet Ivy’s wistful
gaze.

Ivy waved her hand in dismissal. “I made my choice and
received all that was promised to me. I have no regrets.”

“Not even that your duke intends to marry another?” Though
Ivy didn’t seem the least bit offended, Astra felt her face heat. “I’m sorry
but I should not listen to gossip. My mother hasn’t changed. Even with my being
secluded in the country, I can’t escape her.”

“Rumor rarely encompasses the whole story.” Ivy picked up
the tea pot and refilled her cup. “But I am glad that you asked outright
instead of whispering behind my back.”

“I’d never! I only asked because…” Astra stopped herself
from confessing her growing obsession with James. When Ivy gestured with the
tea pot, Astra shook her head though she held her cup and saucer tightly, a
barrier to the direction of their conversation.

“You are considering becoming his mistress?” Ivy sat up
straighter, appearing a bit stunned for the first time in their acquaintance.

Astra thought to deny that she would consider such a thing,
but she had come here for information and she would not find a better
opportunity to secure it. “My mother suggested I might.”

Ivy shook her head. “When did you begin to honor Lady
Seabrook’s advice?”

“When it suits my own desires. I am intrigued by James.
Actually, the feeling is mutual.” Astra’s heart raced, but the accompanying
tightness in her throat eased with her confession.

“If you are saying you have developed an attachment for
him, I highly recommend that you do not become his mistress.” Ivy sat forward,
her serious direct gaze unnerving. “What could you possible gain by
compromising yourself so?”

Astra settled cup to saucer without a single rattle. If
she could ever be honest about her interest in James, it would be with Ivy. “As
you said, he is very handsome. And my husband Lowell, well, he was all one
would want in a provider and devoted husband, but I do not intend to marry
again. The idea of spending all one’s nights alone seems unbearable.”

“I understand. A healthy bank account does not meet all of
one’s needs. But it helps. And James has suggested you share his bed? How
convenient.” Ivy sat back in her wicker chair and huffed. “What does he intend
to give you in return?”

“It was my idea. I mean, it is not an idea really. He has
no knowledge of my secret wish to share his bed.” Astra almost stumbled on her
last word, but Ivy’s frank regard stopped her from behaving like a silly
schoolgirl. “In fact, he has promised to control his urges toward me.”

Ivy tapped her chin. “So there is a strong attraction
between you two?”

“Unbearable, really.” Astra had to abandon her saucer to
the table. Her hands had begun to tremble and a flush spread across her chest.

“Then do not become intimately involved. Move out of
Eastlan, set up your own life and find a discreet lover who does not stir you
as this man does. Immediately.”

Astra straightened in her chair, stunned by Ivy’s advice
and shocked that she was so inwardly deflated by it. Belatedly, Astra realized
she had wanted nothing but encouragement for her wicked desire and Ivy would be
the only source from which she would likely receive it. Except for her mother,
of course, but Astra wanted support from someone she could trust. “So you
regret your choice. Are you so miserable?”

Ivy shook her head. “I had no choice, Astra. You do.
Forget James Keane. Collect your inheritance and build your own household. Take
Lady Phillina with you if you do not wish to leave her. And find a generous
lover immediately. Do not become involved foolishly with a man who you not only
share a residence with but a surname. It will be too complicated. The
relationship of a mistress and her paramour is a contractual affair where both
parties know what they are to gain from the union in advance. The heart should
never be involved.”

“Thank you for your honesty.” Astra stood. “I should be on
my way. Lark and I visit Lady Phillina in the afternoons. May I come again?”

Ivy also stood. “I don’t think that would be wise.”

Astra nodded, knowing Ivy was correct on both counts. Not
only must she give up a true friend for respectability and the bitter old
matrons of the church, she must relinquish all thoughts of James Keane. She’d
been right to visit her friend and she’d be right to heed her advice.

***

Astra arrived home to find both Lark and Lady Phillina
napping. Apparently Lark had spent the morning frolicking in the garden until
she’d nearly collapsed with exhaustion and Lady Phillina had similarly fallen
asleep amongst a pile of her neglected correspondence. Still troubled by her
conversation with Ivy, she wandered into the parlor, searching for a book she
had been reading a few days ago. In years to come, as Lark developed more of
her own interests, Astra would have longer stretches of empty time without even
the memories of an illicit affair to keep her company. She shook off the
thought, hating how much her self-pitying musing reminded her of her mother’s
logic.

She blinked away the halo of light created by a bank of
windows to notice a man with his back to her, apparently lost in admiring the
manicured lawn.

“May I be of assistance, sir?” She feared the man might be
another creditor. Perhaps it was merely curiosity, but they had been inundated
with craftsman and merchants as of late. For years, most had served Eastlan’s
needs without ever coming to the estate and humbly inquiring to speak with
Wesley or James.

The man turned abruptly, as if he’d been caught in
something. He must have recognized Astra because he blushed and bowed. “Oh,
pardon me, Lady Keane. I just came to welcome the new lord of Eastlan. Mr.
Alister Bainbridge, at your service, madam. Hope I’m not intruding on your
privacy. The butler directed me to this fine parlor while he went to see if the
baron would receive the likes of me. Told me to wait here, though I said I’d be
fine outside.” The man bowed again.

A quick survey showed his clothing to be as well cut as
any from the finest tailor in London. He sported a waistcoat in spring green
satin embroidered with a maroon thread, complimented by a suit of forest-green
wool. His well-crafted boots would be the envy of any of the local gentry.

“We certainly could not leave you on the steps, Mr.
Bainbridge. Forgive me. Have we met? I have been in mourning for so long, I
fear I have forgotten half of my acquaintances.” Astra stepped forward,
desperately hoping Mr. Bainbridge had not come to collect a bill, for, by the
looks of him, she feared it would be an expensive one. Charming him definitely
fell into her area of expertise and part of her purpose for staying on at
Eastlan.

Mr. Bainbridge took her offered hand. The heavy gold
signet ring on his finger was hard not to notice. A cursory observation showed
the ring to be Mr. Bainbridge’s initials rather than a family crest.

“We have never had the pleasure of an introduction, Lady
Keane, though I have seen you about the village a time or two. I always point
you out to my daughters so they know to recognize a true lady when they see
one, if you don’t mind me saying so. They will be so excited when I recount my
lucky happenstance in making your acquaintance today.”

“You are too kind, Mr. Bainbridge. Lord Keane will be
disappointed that he missed you. I shall tell him of your visit along with your
regard.”

“That would be very kind of you indeed, Lady Keane. Very
kind.” Mr. Bainbridge seemed as pleased with her hospitality as he would a
reception from the new lord himself. Not that James would refuse this man.
Quite the contrary, his good-natured welcome would no doubt be music to James’s
ears. She wondered if perhaps Mr. Bainbridge knew this, and it was the reason
for his visit to a man far above his social status.

Mr. Bainbridge reached in his pocket and retrieved a
silver engraved case, producing a crisp linen card with black lettering.
Instead of presenting it to Astra, he laid it on a polished table next to a
porcelain vase of daffodils. He patted the card, almost superstitiously, then turned
to Astra. “Perhaps our meeting will save me from making a blunder, Lady Keane.
I thought to invite Lord Keane to my home at Rosemound.”

Astra nodded, suddenly knowing exactly who Mr. Bainbridge
was. A year or so ago she had heard some talk about an obscenely wealthy tin
merchant who had bought an estate two villages over. Astra had been too
consumed with Lowell’s recent death to pay much attention to her mother’s
rambling outrage. A social climber herself, Lady Seabrook did not care for
other commoners scaling to her heights.

“Rosemound, how lovely. I used to visit there as a girl
when Lady Piedmont owned the estate. Did you keep the gardens?”

“I’m proud to say I have and I have added a few
antiquities of my own. If dinner is too forward, I would be honored if you or
Lord Keane would care to visit the collection or stroll the hedge maze one
sunny afternoon.”

“I will most definitely extend the invitation, Mr.
Bainbridge.”

Mr. Bainbridge nodded. “I’ll be on my way, then. It has
been an honor, Lady Keane.” He strode to the door then paused. “I would also
like to extend my support to Lord Keane should he need it. Perhaps I assume too
much for a lowly merchant to think he may be of service to one of Cornwall’s
greatest nobility, but I have done quite well in the tin industry. I don’t pay
attention to gossip for the most part, though the wife does, and she hears that
the new lord, being from America and all, perhaps could use support from the
local tradesmen.”

“I think Lord Keane will be quite pleased to hear of your
support.” Astra paused, reconsidered her initial reaction, then decided she
liked Mr. Bainbridge and that he could indeed lend James credibility with the
local merchants, which could be helpful. “He so wants to do what is best for
Eastlan and the community. And though I admire your discretion when it comes to
any spreading rumors, I think it would not be out of place for you to say a
kind word for Lord Keane now and again.”

“I would be honored, madam. I hope to have the chance to
tell his lordship so in person. Oh, and you might want to tell him I have three
lovely daughters who sing and play music like angels. And all of marriageable
age with considerable dowries.” Mr. Bainbridge put his hand over his heart. “Of
course, I don’t assume to make a match with such an esteemed family, but my
wife is a dreamer. Thank you so much for your time, Lady Keane. Good day. I’ll
show myself out.”

Mr. Bainbridge hurriedly put on his hat that sat askew due
to his nervous mishandling and exited the parlor, perhaps suddenly realizing he
had said too much. Or more likely, realizing he had said just enough.

Whatever the reason for his hasty departure, Astra was
grateful. Mr. Bainbridge held the solution to James’s financial problems. Many
nobles married commoners for their dowries. She prayed Mr. Bainbridge had no
idea of James’s dilemma or he could start planning the nuptials immediately.
James claimed he didn’t intend to marry, but he had already proven himself to
be quite practical.  The very idea of James bringing a bride to Eastlan speared
Astra with anguish.

She wandered back to the chair that held her book. Only
one rational plan came to mind as how to distract James from making another
alliance.  Though there was nothing rational about the heat that flushed her
skin.  Or the ache between her legs that forced her to shift, crossing her legs
to quell a rush of forbidden lust.     

Unfortunately, Astra Keane had no idea how to seduce a
man.

Astra stood outside James’s lit study. He had missed
dinner and she imagined all kinds of things that kept him away besides the
estate’s business. Perhaps he had stumbled across Mr. Bainbridge and had spent
the evening being mesmerized by his charming daughters. Astra firmly knocked on
the closed door before she lost her nerve.

James abruptly opened it, forcing a gasp from Astra. He
balanced a tray of dirty dishes in one hand and appeared just as startled as
Astra at finding her in the doorway.

“I thought you might be O’Donald. I told him I’d bring the
dishes to the kitchen myself. He didn’t seem taken with the idea.” He set the
tray on a nearby table. “Is something wrong? It’s late.”

Oh, my. Astra had not planned this well. Seduction always
seemed something to guard against. Now that she had decided to embrace the role
of seducer, she had not a clue on how to proceed. She certainly couldn’t blurt
out her intentions. Not that she knew exactly what they were. She would make a
fool of herself if he rejected her. A fear that suddenly seemed a very real
possibility.