Read In the Garden of Temptation Online
Authors: Cynthia Wicklund
Tags: #1800s, #bath, #beautiful, #carriage, #castle, #england, #handsome, #historical, #horse, #lady, #london, #lord, #love, #marriage, #regency, #romance, #sensual, #sexual, #sexy, #victorian
“
Edgar, please don’t ask
this of me,” she begged him.
“
What of me?” he shouted.
“Do you think it has been easy for me to stand by and watch my wife
lie with another man? I must have an heir and it will not end until
that need is satisfied. Do I make myself clear?”
“
Why can’t your brother
inherit? What has he done that is so terrible you must cut him
off?”
“
Let us just say,” he stated
darkly, “he deserted me when I needed him most, and I will never
forgive him.”
“
What makes you think I will
cooperate with you now when you were certain I would not do so
before?”
A slow, sinister smile altered his ugly
features, and the light of madness touched his gaze. His regard
drifted to the fussy baby who was oblivious to the sudden danger
that threatened her.
“
I believe I have more
leverage with you now than I did before,” he said. “Do you think
I’ve the right of it?”
A stab of fright quite unlike anything she
had ever experienced before pierced Catherine’s meager defenses. He
had chosen her one great vulnerability. He had the right of it,
yes, he did. He knew it and she knew it.
“
You wouldn’t hurt a
helpless child, would you Edgar?” She began to struggle from the
twisted covers.
“
Calm yourself, my dear. I
don’t eat innocents for dinner. But there is nothing to say I won’t
grow weary of her presence, for she is no use to me. She is another
mouth to feed, excess baggage. Whether or not she stays with you
depends entirely on how you choose to respond to my request.” He
eased back in the chair and began to rock to and fro.
“
What would you
do?”
“
It’s nothing to find a
childless couple who would be pleased to raise the
by-blow
of an earl—for a
price, of course.”
“
I hate you,
Edgar!”
The baron’s lip curled in disdain. “I can
deal with your hate, wife. It’s your affection I wouldn’t know how
to handle, so don’t fool yourself into believing it makes any
difference.”
The infant, as if sensing
the malevolent undercurrents that pervaded the room, began to wail
pitifully. Catherine’s gaze darted to the cradle, and she watched
in apprehension as two tiny fists waved spasmodically in the air.
She managed to sidle off the bed, finding her feet with some
difficulty.
Oh my! S
he felt sore, especially her nether regions.
“
I need to feed my child.
Won’t you please call Edna? I think I’m going to need her
assistance.”
“
I’ve summoned a wet
nurse.”
“
Why would you do that? I
intend to nurse the baby myself.”
“
A lactating woman does not
easily become pregnant,” he said crudely. “Give me a son and you
shall have that chance.”
She wanted to scream with frustration. “I’m
in no condition to have another child, Edgar. Please, have
reason.”
“
I mean to let you heal, my
dear. No need to worry on that head. You’ve several weeks before
I’ll expect you to perform.” He smiled as though pleased with his
generosity.
“
Thank you,” she said
through gritted teeth.
The baby was squalling loudly now, her
frantic cries carrying far beyond the confines of the bedchamber. A
persistent tapping at the door caught the baron’s attention, and
his head snapped toward the sound.
“
Who is it?” he
barked.
The doorknob twisted slowly, and Edna peered
into the room, her face pinched with misgiving. “I know you told me
not to bother you, my lord, but I heard the child crying. I thought
maybe you would like me to take her to the wet nurse.”
“
Yes, yes, get that bawling
brat out of here. How can anything so little make such a racket?”
He waved his hand in dismissal.
The maid dashed to the cradle and, scooping
up the distraught infant, threw her lady a look of apology as she
quickly exited the chamber. Catherine watched Edna depart with her
tiny daughter then turned to glare at her husband.
The baron stood and straightened the cuffs of
his coat. “One other thing,” he said, his manner offhand, “I’ll be
choosing your next lover.”
“
You chose the last one,”
she spit out.
“
Actually, in a round about
way I allowed you to do the choosing. That was a mistake—one I
won’t be making twice.” He glanced at her sideways. “You have a
tendency to form attachments, and that is a complication I will not
tolerate.”
“
I don’t care any longer,
Edgar.” And she truly believed she did not. “But don’t separate me
from my baby or I will become very difficult to
control.”
He looked at her directly. “I don’t like
threats and, anyway, it’s a moot point if you do as I ask. I can
count on your cooperation?”
“
Yes, I will do my best,”
she said in clipped accents, and he nodded his approval.
Why did she feel she had just made a pact
with Lucifer himself?
*****
The Earl of Ashworth peered into the flawless
face turned in his direction. Lady Alice Chesterton gave him her
full, rapt attention as he expounded on and on about nothing in
particular.
What a beauty, he thought, with her
ice-blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes. She had a lovely, willowy
body that tempted the imagination and a vivacious disposition that
added greatly to her popularity. A most desirable specimen—and she
wanted Adam. He suspected it was the challenge that attracted her,
but whatever it was, she made no secret of her aspirations.
He knew he was the envy of the majority of
his contemporaries. So why was he not interested? He realized that
he had been assessing Lady Alice in an analytical way, devoid of
emotion. She was exquisite and he liked her, but he did not desire
her. It angered him that he was so anchored to the past a beautiful
woman could not stir him. Adam excused himself from the lady.
Though she clearly was disappointed, he had no wish to tarry.
Another party, another wasted evening, he
thought—what was the point? He ambled through the crowd, irritated
by the festive atmosphere. A footman carrying a tray with glasses
of champagne came into his vicinity and he reached out and took
one, downing the contents in a single gulp. He took another.
Already he’d had too much to drink, something he was prone to do of
late, and yet it was not enough. He needed more alcohol to soften
the memories, to dull the pain.
Perhaps he desired a more experienced woman.
Lady Alice, for all her beauty, was a chaste woman looking to make
an exceptional match. He did not feel ready for a commitment, and
he believed it unethical to pretend otherwise.
His mind drifted back to before the previous
year, to his life before Catherine. How simple and uncomplicated it
had all been. He had lived each day in relative peace, ignorantly
assuming the future would take care of itself. Helen had been there
to see to his needs, undemanding in her love. And she had loved
him, he knew. Adam wondered if she had suffered after their
separation as much as he had after his separation from
Catherine.
That’s what he ought to do, go see Helen.
They could commiserate together, offer each other comfort—and maybe
more. He had no idea what she did of late, but now seemed as good a
time as any to find out. Though the hour was advanced she had never
turned him away. If he had been less inebriated his good sense
might have warned him off, but such is the purpose of spirits, he
would reflect later. When one needs a reason to be foolish,
overindulgence can be counted on to provide the perfect excuse.
Adam felt better now that he knew what he
intended to do. On his way out he located another footman with
another tray of brimming champagne glasses and had one more quick
drink—just for added fortification. The bubbly liquid warmed his
stomach and further dimmed his judgment. Loaded to the gills with
false courage, he retrieved his coat and entered the night.
*****
The earl’s movements did not go entirely
unnoticed. Across the crowded ballroom his best friend Lord
Wimberly was engaged in deep conversation with Lady Richards.
“
Lord Wimberly,” Charlotte
ventured, “does it seem to you that Lord Ashworth has not been
himself lately?”
Based upon long acquaintance with the lady,
the viscount was not averse to being candid. “You are correct,
Charlotte. To be honest, I’m worried.”
“
What does he tell
you?”
Daniel snorted. “Not a thing, which is his
way of telling me to mind my own business.”
“
It’s Lady Bourgeault, isn’t
it?”
He paused. “I believe it is,” he said
cautiously.
“
Do you know what
happened?”
“
No.” He shook his head.
“There was a falling out, that’s all I know. It’s had a terrible
effect, though. He stays up all hours, gambles—which he’s never
done—and he drinks too much. Tonight is no different as you can
see. I ought to follow him to make sure he’s safe, but he has
become so touchy of late, I’m reticent to do it.”
“
I believe it was a real
love match.” Lady Richards glanced up at her companion through her
lashes. “At least I know Catherine loves Lord Ashworth.”
The viscount frowned at her. “Are you
positive? I had the impression that Adam felt deceived by the lady
in some way.”
She looked at him squarely. “I saw her before
she left town. She was in a dreadful state. Something had happened,
but she wouldn’t confide in me. Frankly, I’ve suffered a great deal
of guilt wondering if I should have done more to help her.”
He nodded and for several moments they fell
silent.
“
I’m going to Bath in a
fortnight,” Daniel said at last.
“
Are you now?” Her eyes lit
up with hope.
“
Yes. My father’s not been
well. He seems to think the waters might provide him some relief
for what ails him, and he’s asked me to join him there.”
“
Go on.”
“
I don’t suppose it would be
much trouble to stop at the Bourgeault residence when I return to
London. It’s on my way.”
“
Daniel, would you?”
Charlotte cried. “If I only knew she was all right, I could stop
worrying.”
“
Right then, it’s settled.
It won’t be immediately. Can you live with that?”
“
Yes, of course, you’re too
kind.” She gave him a mischievous smile. “You know, Daniel, you
really ought to settle down. You’re denying some lady a wonderful
husband.”
Lord Wimberly flushed, and he felt the heat
travel to the roots of his wavy blonde hair.
*****
Helen lounged in languid contentment on her
sofa, legs tucked under her as she devoured the pages of a novel
from the lending library. She giggled as the hero of the piece
shouted “hark” repeatedly while wielding his mighty sword in an
effort to do away with the dastardly villain. The heroine, on the
other hand, cowered ineffectually nearby as she waited for her love
to save her. Helen was reminded of a rich chunk of chocolate
confection—it was completely unnecessary to a good diet, and
probably inadvisable as well—but oh, how satisfying in the end.
A series of quick raps on the door brought
Helen back to reality, and she frowned as she put the book aside.
Who could be calling at this late hour? She pulled her silk wrapper
more closely to her throat, and ran her hand through her hair as
she slipped the latch and peeked through the crack.
As she lived and breathed,
it was Lord Ashworth!
He stood reeling on
her threshold, a ridiculous grin creasing his handsome features.
She pulled the door wide.
“
My lord, why are you
here?”
“
Aren’t you going to invite
me in, Helen?” he slurred. The foolish grin continued
unabated.
“
I…yes, come in.” She
stepped back so he could enter.
He lurched through the doorway and turned to
face her. “It’s late, isn’t it? Well, nothing for it—I wanted to
see you, so here I am.”
“
Should I be pleased?” she
asked him quietly.
“
Haven’t a clue. Mind if I
have a seat? I’m not feeling quite right.” He lunged for the sofa
and plunked himself down. “That’s better. Come, talk to me—I need a
friend.”
“
I think what you need,” she
said, closing the door, “is a cup of strong tea.” Before he could
protest, she moved to her tiny kitchen and began to heat some
water. Minutes later she returned with the hot brew and placed it
in his drunken hands.
“
You’re not happy to see me,
are you?” His cloudy gaze had cleared somewhat, and the
intelligence behind the impaired reason seemed to be reasserting
itself.
“
To be honest, I’m not
certain how I feel at the moment.”
He nodded. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you
hated me.”
“
I don’t hate you, my
lord.”
“
I’ve missed you, Helen, and
that glorious red hair.”
She ignored his flirtatious behavior. “Why
have you come here now?—now when…” she trailed off, unable to hide
her impatience.
“
When what?”
“
When I’ve begun to forget.
When I’ve put my life back together. What can you be
thinking?”