Promise of Pleasure (25 page)

In fact, he’d intervene in other, more substantive ways.

Once he had Felicity’s money, he could use it however he pleased. He’d move Mary to London, buy her a house, and hire her a companion. He could be with her whenever he wished, and the prospect raced through him like wildfire.

Why not? Why not?
an excited voice urged. Why not make her his mistress? Why not alter her life as she’d begged him to do?

Though he couldn’t wed her as she wanted, he could certainly improve her plight. He’d rescue her from Victoria, would set her up in her own home. Then he’d split with Lauretta, and he’d have Mary in her place.

The entire concept was so satisfying that he felt as if he was walking on air, and he was anxious to tell her his decision. She’d realize that he had her best interests at heart. She’d stop being angry.

He needed to speak with her immediately, and he surveyed the crowd, searching for her. To his surprise, she was over by Victoria. After skirting a few chairs, he was standing beside her. With Victoria looking on, she couldn’t evade him as she had all evening.

“Hello, Miss Barnes,” he said.

She peered up, and he could see how much he’d hurt her.

“Lord Redvers.”

“Have you saved a dance for me?” He tried to smile, but couldn’t pull it off. “May I claim the next one?”

“I’m sorry, but I just offered to fetch some punch for Victoria.”

She flitted away, her insult ringing in his ears. Embarrassment reddened his cheeks.

“Mary!” Victoria scolded, but she was gone and didn’t heed the admonishment.

Victoria frowned at him. “I most humbly apologize, Redvers. I have no idea what’s come over her. With each passing day, she’s behaving more strangely.”

“She doesn’t like me very much.”

“That may be, but it doesn’t give her the right to be discourteous. She knows better. I’ll talk to her.”

“Don’t bother. I don’t need you extolling my virtues or ordering her to be civil.”

He eased away, his fury growing by the second.

The impertinent little jade! Snubbing him! Humiliating him in front of Victoria!

She would not treat him as if he didn’t matter. He wouldn’t allow it.

He caught up with her at the buffet, and he leaned in, trapping her against the table, while trying not to be overly blatant.

“I would speak with you,” he hissed. “Outside! At once.”

She didn’t even glance up. “You’ve said everything that needs to be said, so there is no reason to converse.”

She blithely grabbed a plate as if to fill it with food.

“I’m going outside as if I’m taking the night air. I will be waiting for you behind the barn. If you do not arrive in five minutes, I will come back in and cause a scene from which your reputation will never recover.”

“You can bully me all you want, but it won’t change anything.”

He felt someone watching them, and she felt it, too. In tandem, they looked down the long table. A man was studying them, smirking, and he winked at Mary, sending Jordan’s jealousy through the roof.

“Who is that?” Jordan seethed, absurdly ready to march over and pummel the man into the ground.

“He’s the peddler, Mr. Dubois. He sells alcoholic tonics to desperate women, and it makes them forget themselves. But some of them remember the facts of life the next day.”

“Why is he winking at you?”

“He thinks his Spinster’s Cure worked. He thinks you’re in love with me. But we both know that’s not true, don’t we?”

He glared at Dubois, then at Mary, but his glower had no effect. When had he lost the ability to intimidate?

“Five minutes,” he grumbled.

He spun away, but he wasn’t eager to draw attention to himself, so he slowed and ambled to the door.

The rain had kept most of the revelers inside, but a small group of men was smoking across the street. They ignored him as he strolled around the corner. Lanterns had been hung, so he made his way without any trouble.

Behind the structure, it was dark enough to hide a romantic indiscretion, and he loitered under the eaves, till he was certain she’d flaunted him.

Just when he figured that she wasn’t coming, that he’d behaved like a fool, she stormed up, not stopping until they were toe-to-toe. She was in high dudgeon, as if he’d wronged her.

“What is it you want from me?” she demanded.

“I’ve been trying to dance with you,” he said, irately but quietly. “I won’t have you avoiding me.”

“You brought me out here because I wouldn’t dance with you?”

“Yes. I recognize that you are in a snit, but I won’t tolerate it.”

“You won’t
tolerate
it.”

“No, I won’t.”

“You don’t own me, Lord Redvers, and you have no right to order me about.”

“You are to call me Jordan when we’re alone.”

“Lord Redvers”—she was deliberately mocking—“we are not adolescents in the first throes of young love. You’re at Barnes Manor to marry my sister, and so long as that’s your plan, we won’t
dance
—or anything else.”

“Why do you keep throwing my marital situation in my face? From the start, I’ve been clear about my intentions toward Felicity.”

“Yes, you’ve been abundantly clear.”

“Then why are you acting like this?”

“Because my heart is broken.”

The rawness of her remark staggered him. He felt as if he’d been slapped, and he couldn’t respond.

“As I have been grievously wounded by your conduct,” she continued, “I can’t bear to be around you.”

“Mary . . .”

He reached for her, but she held out a hand, halting him.

“I have to find a means to carry on,” she said, stabbing him with her words. “I have to return to being the person I was—before you came.”

“I’ll only be here two more weeks.”

“I don’t care. Why can’t you understand how difficult this is for me? Despite what I say or do, I will never be the bride you choose.”

“My matrimonial decision doesn’t have anything to do with you!”

“It has everything to do with me! Don’t insult me by pretending otherwise.” She took a deep breath, reining in her temper. “You matter to me in a manner I could never explain. You matter! But as far as you’re concerned, I could simply be any loose girl who raised her skirt. I’m no one special—at all.”

“That’s not true. I don’t feel that way about you.”

“Then how do you feel?”

“I want you to come to London with me.”

“As your what?”

“As my mistress. After I’m wed, I’ll be set financially. I plan to buy you a house in Town and pay you an allowance. We can be together as often as you like.”

“Your mistress ...” She sagged against the wall of the barn.

“Yes.”

“So I could be your next Mrs. Bainbridge.”

“Well ... yes.”

When she put it like that, his proposition sounded sordid and offensive, and it didn’t begin to describe his confused feelings. He thought she was amazing and unique, and he was keen to bond with her as he never had with another, yet he couldn’t seem to clarify his motives, and his every comment was being misconstrued.

“Would you let Mrs. Bainbridge go,” she asked, “or would you keep us both?”

“I’d let her go.”

“And you’d support me for how long? Until you pick the
next
Mrs. Bainbridge after me?”

“I’m very fond of you. I imagine I’ll consort with you for several years.”

She buried her face in her hands. “Oh Lord, I am such an idiot.”

“Why would you say that?”

“I gave you the only item I possessed that was of any value. I gave you my virginity, and my reward is that I could become your new Mrs. Bainbridge.”

“There are worse things in the world than being mistress to a man like me.”

“I can’t think of a single one.”

He wanted to be angry with her, but she looked totally bereft, and he couldn’t help but be reminded that he was a callous cad.

“What’s wrong?” he murmured.

“I’m ashamed that you assume I have such a low character.”

“I don’t believe you do.”

“I’m not like the women with whom you socialize in London. I’m just me. I’m Mary Barnes, a spinster who has always lived in the country in my father’s house. I’m not wild or indecent. I want a home of my own. I want a family. I want a husband who loves me, and I would never sell myself for such a small price.”

“I’m sorry. I was sure the idea would make you happy.”

“Then you don’t know me at all.”

He’d presumed that he’d found the perfect solution to their predicament. How could they have such disparate opinions as to what was an appropriate conclusion?

At her refusal, he was inordinately distressed. Why would he be? She’d just saved him an enormous amount of trouble and expense. He should be celebrating, but instead, he felt as if she’d yanked out his heart and stomped on it.

She stepped away and gazed up at him.

“I have to go back inside now. Please leave me alone.”

“I can’t leave you alone.”

“Remember who you are, Jordan, and remember who I am. I’m begging you. I have to be able to live here after you depart.”

Tears glittered in her eyes, and he couldn’t bear that he’d made her so miserable.

He bent down and kissed her, and for a moment, she permitted the embrace. Then, with a wail of despair, she pulled out of his arms and raced away.

Like an imbecile, he dawdled, maudlin as a schoolboy with his first crush.

He was a fool. An impertinent, rash fool, and he deserved every ounce of her disdain. What was there to like about him?

As his father always brutally pointed out, he had no redeeming qualities. Why would he have supposed that Mary—whom he viewed as so rare and so remarkable—might bind herself to him?

He meandered out of the shadows, stopping for a minute to peer up at the sky, letting the drizzle cool his heated skin. Then he went into the barn to pretend that everything was fine.

 

LAURETTA was so glad she’d attended the village dance.

As the sophisticated, beautiful friend of Lord Redvers, she was the life of the party. Everyone was eager to bask in her glow, and their obvious approval was a balm for her sour mood.

She’d danced every dance, and the only way the event could have been improved was if Redvers had noticed how all the men were enthralled by her.

“Have a final sip, Mrs. B.,” her current companion said.

He was a charming, courteous university student, home from Cambridge to visit his parents. So young. So cute.

He’d brought a flask of whiskey, and they’d slipped out to have a drink. They were across the street from the festivities, under the eaves to stay out of the rain.

“Don’t mind if I do,” she tartly replied. She grabbed the flask and downed the remaining contents.

“I love a woman who enjoys her liquor.”

“That’s not all I enjoy.” She raised a brow, happy to tease. Long after she’d returned to London, he’d fantasize about her.

“Are you cooled down?” he inquired. “Shall we head back and kick up our heels?”

“Let’s do.”

He offered her his arm, and as they would have moved off, she espied Mary Barnes hurrying from the dark yard behind the barn. She looked extremely distraught, as if she’d been crying, but at the last second, she forced a smile and swept inside.

Lauretta wouldn’t have thought anything of it, but a man emerged from the exact spot where Miss Barnes had been. He appeared distraught, too.

For a brief instant, he stood in the rain, then he spun toward her, and he was clearly visible. There could be no mistake.

She was stunned, and she stumbled, her companion reaching out to steady her.

“Are you all right, Mrs. B.?”

“Yes ... I’m fine. I just missed my step.”

Redvers and Mary Barnes?
Was he insane?

In a rush, desperate that he not see her, she hustled her companion along, feigning impatience to get back to the dancing.

Once she was safely inside, she rippled with fury.

Of all the horrible, despicable betrayals! He’d been ignoring Lauretta so that he could fuck Mary Barnes.

The gall! The infamy! The insult was too great to be born!

“The bastard,” she muttered to herself. “The worthless, inconsiderate, philandering bastard.”

Mary Barnes was going to be so bloody sorry!

“OPEN this door.”

“No.”

“Open it, right now, or I will kick it in.”

“No!”

“I swear to God, Mary. I’m not joking!”

Jordan banged his fist on the wood so hard that the sound had to have wafted through the entire mansion.

It was the middle of the night, three long nights past the awful village dance where she’d had to smile and flirt and pretend that everything was fine. She’d assumed she could enter into a meaningless fling with him, but it simply wasn’t in her nature to proceed with such a dangerous, unsatisfying relationship.