Regency Mistresses: A Practical Mistress\The Wanton Bride (12 page)

‘I recall you and I dealt together quite well on those occasions you came over to Thorne Park to play with Beatrice. I expect you think I must now be a cruel miser to have had Tarquin imprisoned.’

‘I expect Mrs Marlowe is too polite to comment, but Miss Beaumont might have no qualms over giving you your answer.’

Helen turned to see Jason slightly to one side of her. Their eyes coupled for a long moment before he gave her a polite nod. ‘It’s nice to see you again, Mrs Marlowe, and at such a happy celebration.’

‘Indeed, it is a fine occasion, sir,’ Helen said rather breathlessly, for her heart had begun erratically pumping. Obliquely she wished she had noticed him approach—she felt silly and girlish to be so discomposed by his sudden closeness. As his eyes lingered momentarily on her mouth it began pulsing beneath phantom pressure. Simply for something to say she blurted on a bright smile, ‘But it will be finer still to see them married.’

‘Indeed it will,’ Jason said softly before his grey eyes were levelled at his observant brother. ‘Why do you not go and try to revise Miss Beaumont’s opinion of you?’

Mark flicked a glance between Jason and Helen. Suddenly a look of enlightenment flickered over his features. ‘Could you not have set me a feasible task, Jay? Reforming Tarquin might be simpler.’

As Mark Hunter moved away Jason strolled closer to Helen, so close that she could sense his heat through the delicate fabric of her new gown.

He leaned back against the wall next to her and she saw him make a sweeping perusal of the company. She had, seconds ago, made a similar swift
check to see if they were being observed so understood his scouting look. Only Iris seemed to be darting intermittent glances their way.

‘I … it is a long time since I have seen your brother.’ Helen made a little light conversation to attempt to curb the fluttering in her stomach. ‘I don’t think he has changed one bit in looks.’

‘Not in looks, perhaps.’

‘I remember Mark used to be quite a carefree character,’ Helen warmed to her theme and felt relaxed enough to broach the subject of Emily’s antagonism towards Mark. ‘He has apparently treated Tarquin quite harshly. Does he not like him?’

‘Actually, he is fond of him.’ Jason slanted Helen a rueful smile before explaining. ‘Gambling is like an opiate to Tarquin. Only a true friend would bother to have him forcibly removed from Almack’s before he brought himself to complete ruin.’ Jason stared off in the direction of where were Tarquin and his sister. ‘Mark took away his liberty, it’s true, but he also freed him from the tables for a while. Mark has brought a lot of opprobrium down on his head … not least from the Beaumonts. Perhaps they would prefer to watch Tarquin lose his dignity along with the shirt from his back.’

‘I hope, then, that it has not all been in vain. I did know of Tarquin’s problems, and that he tries to resist temptation.’

‘As do we all …’ Jason sighed out in a tone replete with irony.

Helen stole a glance at him. His eyes were kindling, making the butterflies in her stomach again take flight. She found another topic of conversation. ‘I … it would have been nice to have seen Beatrice this evening. I’m sure Philip intended the invitation be extended to your sister, and her husband, too.’

‘I believe they declined due to a prior engagement.’

Helen sensed that was an invalid excuse and suddenly her agile mind pounced on a reason for Beatrice’s absence. Immediately she knew she would voice her suspicions whilst they were alone, for there was an opportunity to discover what steps had been taken to make formal her role in his life.

‘Has Beatrice chosen to stay away because of … what we discussed in Hyde Park?’ It was a leading question she hoped might yield other answers, too.

‘As far as I am aware, nobody but us knows about it, unless you have mentioned—’

‘I would not!’ Helen interrupted in a fierce whisper. ‘It is hardly something that I am proud to boast of—’ She abruptly bit her lip and her lashes screened her eyes in regret. It was a very unguarded comment to have made.

‘Indeed … it’s something you’re ashamed of, isn’t it, Helen?’ Jason said softly. ‘Which reminds me that I’m still waiting to hear what has driven you to choose such a course of action.’

‘And I have said that I will tell you,’ Helen returned in an undertone. ‘But my sister’s betrothal party is perhaps not an appropriate place.’ Gathering her skirts in quivering fists, she tilted her head to squarely meet his eyes. ‘I think I ought to now circulate amongst the other guests.’ Helen managed one step towards the company before Jason moved, blocking from view her fragile form with his powerful height and breadth. He inclined a little towards her and held out his arm. ‘I think this guest deserves just a little more of your time, Mrs Marlowe. Come … accompany me to the terrace. I think we need a little fresh air.’

‘I
hope you have not simply brought me out here so we might bicker.’

‘You may rest assured that arguing with you was the last thing on my mind.’

‘Well, that is good news, at least,’ Helen said with constrained levity as they proceeded towards the railing enclosing a moon-dappled terrace. Her demeanour became again quite serious. ‘I beg you will let me first thank you for helping Philip. Had you not done so … well, I am aware that Charlotte’s marriage to him would still be a distant dream.’ She gazed up at Jason; although his expression was veiled by shadow, she was conscious of his potent allure. ‘Whatever happens between us,’ she said huskily, ‘I would just like you to know that I will always be grateful to you for that.’

A mere dip of his dark head acknowledged her thanks.

Helen turned to look out over the darkling gardens, her small hands gripping the iron balustrade. ‘Did you put in a good word for Philip with George, too? Our brother seems very different towards him.’

Jason leaned on the railing close to her and stared up at the sparkling stars. ‘What help I’ve given is Philip’s due: a favour to right a wrong done to his family by mine. My great-grandfather caused the rift between the Hunters and the Goodes when he stole the wife of one of Philip’s kin some sixty years ago.’

‘But …’

‘Hush, Helen,’ Jason said softly. ‘Your sister is happy; my cousin is happy. There’s no reason to analyse how it all came about.’

Helen again started to speak, but he interrupted her with, ‘You look very stylish this evening.’

Helen brushed a gloved hand over the sleek lavender satin of her skirt. It was the first time he had seen her well groomed since she was a child. Oddly she felt piqued rather than pleased by his compliment. She rested her slender hips against iron, boldly facing him. ‘Why, thank you, sir,’ she said with acid sweetness and arranged her gossamer shawl about her shoulders. ‘I suppose I ought to have warned you that I do brush up quite well.’

A grunt of laughter preceded, ‘Indeed you do. I never doubted it for a moment.’ He watched her from beneath lazy lids. ‘You always look delectable. But it is the first time in a long while I’ve seen you in a pretty dress.’ He raised a hand to gently cup her sharp little chin. ‘I have just one small criticism to make …’ A pin was eased from her glossy coiffure and an ebony curl spiralled slowly on to a milky shoulder. ‘I like your hair loose …’

Helen gasped and attempted to snatch back the pin to anchor the ringlet again into place. But Jason was not done ruining her careful
toilette.
A thumb leisurely traced over her soft lips. And you don’t need artifice,’ he murmured. ‘Besides, it’s likely to arouse suspicion if I go back inside sporting rouge.’

‘Jason, you mustn’t … someone might come …’

An imprisoning arm settled either side of her and Jason brought his head inexorably closer. His mouth tracked hers until, done with half-hearted evasion, Helen turned to him of her own volition. Her lips parted and her eyelids drooped in languid anticipation. After a moment, when all she could sense was his body warming hers and a lemon scent enveloping her, she flicked a glance up at him. She understood the demand in his searing look and immediately complied by going up on tiptoe. About to press her soft lips against the hard contours of his
mouth, a bark of laughter made her jump. Immediately one of his hands moved to rest, cool and confident against the silk of her jaw, encouraging her to stay still.

But the moment was lost. Helen jerked back against the balcony whilst peering anxiously in the direction of the doors that opened into the drawing room. Laughter erupted again, sounding disturbingly close. Jason’s splendid waistcoat received a little thump as Helen attempted escaping to a respectable distance.

Having first cursed beneath his breath, Jason murmured, ‘I’ve missed seeing you.’ He pushed himself back from the railing, allowing her liberty.

‘Indeed? You know where I live,’ Helen tartly rejoined whilst keeping a vigilant eye on the moving figures she could glimpse between the stirring edges of the curtains.

A smile tugged at one side of his thin mouth. ‘That encourages me to think that you’ve missed seeing me, too.’ It was stated with an amount of throaty satisfaction.

Helen bit back the spontaneous denial that had sprung to her tongue. There was no point in acting the coquette. He didn’t bother with flirting; she imagined he might also be out of patience with women who feigned indifference to him. With that
thought in mind she blurted, ‘I was expecting to hear a while ago that you had made certain arrangements. Have you been too busy to give much thought to it?’

‘I’ve thought of little else.’

Helen’s eyes soared swiftly to his face. ‘Is it all finalised?’

‘Why do you want to continue with something that you fear will damage your self-respect?’

Helen was momentarily stunned into silence by his acuity. Then briskly she said, ‘I think you presume to know too much about me. If you think I will cry wolf once you have gone to the trouble and expense, I can assure you I will not. I promise you I am at ease with our … new relationship.’

‘Are you?’ Jason said drily. ‘Well, I am not sure that I am.’

‘You don’t really want me at all, do you?’

He gave a grunt of harsh laughter. ‘If that were true it would solve a lot of problems.’

‘Then why are you delaying …?’

‘I’m flattered by your impatience, my dear. But you did promise not to nag me, Helen,’ he drawled in mild rebuke.

Regret and humiliation swept over Helen. She had obviously made herself sound like a shrew as well as a desperate wanton. A cool hand flew to a flaming cheek to gauge how obvious was her mortification.

Jason understood the gesture and with a low imprecation enclosed a fragile wrist with long fingers to draw her comfortingly close.

Helen immediately flung him off. ‘If this is a game to you, sir, it is not to me,’ she hissed in a low breath. ‘If you are content with just Mrs Tucker as your mistress, you only have to say …’

‘I want you, dammit, and you know it,’ he gritted out in immediate response.

Helen sent a startled look at him, then at the French doors, but it seemed that the people who had stationed themselves just inside had moved away.

‘So again I have answered all your questions,’ he said with harsh self-mockery. ‘I certainly think it’s time you answered mine.’

Helen nervously laced her fingers, then just as quickly jerked them apart. ‘Very well,’ she burst out. ‘I shall start by saying that I suspect you find awkward this unforeseen aspect to my character. I am no longer the innocent child you once knew. I suspect also that you would rather I had not propositioned you at all. But I have, and I do not regret it.’ Helen gazed boldly at him before her tawny eyes swept away to the velvety blue horizon. A scudding cloud made hazy the moon, deepening the dusk. ‘I know our families once were close. My father liked you and was upset when you and George were no longer
friends. Perhaps you think that because I am of gentle birth I ought to find a genteel solution to being poor. I expect your conscience would be easier if I were to support myself by finding respectable employment, and apply to be a governess or a companion to a lonely lady. Perhaps I might find a position in a shop.’

Having listed out her prospects, she swallowed and turned to him. ‘The truth is, I do not want to do those things. I have had a husband who cherished me and, although we had little money, I had my own household. Even before then I kept house for my papa from when I turned seventeen. In short, I have long been my own mistress, and now I would rather be yours than be despised as inferior by employers who are no better than me.’ She clutched again at the railing and watched the silver disc shed its fleecy coat. Her wistful face became bathed in milky light. ‘So, you see, my self-respect is more under threat from being good than being bad.’

‘I’m the lesser of two evils.’

Helen frowned her regret at the horizon. She had not at all intended that it would sound that way, but, in essence, it was true.

Having read her answer from her expression, Jason swung away. He threw back his head to contemplate the stars, and whether to make light of the
blow to his ego. But the poignancy in her quiet reflection had subdued him, made him feel churlish for even considering using flippancy to disguise his wounded pride. How much greater would have been the damage to Helen’s self-worth had those fears she’d confided been realised. She had not lied or exaggerated in what she’d described might be her future. Many young women who were poor relations endured just such a miserable existence, sometimes at the hands of their own kin. A sudden surge of hatred for George swayed Jason on his feet.

He thrust his hands into his pockets and looked at her for a long moment. ‘You need not resort to being bad, or to being employed, Helen.’ With just a hint that she would welcome his proposal he would ask her now to be his wife.

Helen swirled about to face him. ‘What would you have me do then, sir?’ she snapped with subdued volume. ‘You know very well that George has squandered our allowance and is heavily in debt. Would you have me transfer the burden of my keep to my new brother-in-law? He already has his mother and sister depending on him. I need not beg for a home, I know the offer will be freely given. But Philip and Charlotte deserve their privacy and their honeymoon years. I will not live with them.’ It was a vehement statement that brought a sheen of tears to her eyes.
Helen swallowed the ache in her throat. ‘And before you offer it, I do not want your charity. But again I must thank you for your concern. You have recently provided more for Charlotte and me than has our own brother.’

‘You ought to marry,’ Jason stated more roughly than he intended. ‘Harry Marlowe would want what is best for you.’

Helen nodded, a faraway look in her topaz eyes. ‘Yes, he would,’ she dulcetly agreed. ‘And Harry would know that a loveless marriage is not right for me. I would far sooner have my independence and my widow status than a roof over my head and a lifetime of disappointment with a husband who remains a stranger.’ She gave him a wry smile. ‘Do not fret for my virtue and try to find someone to make an honest woman of me.’ A little chuckle escaped her. ‘Harry used to say I was too romantic and not nearly practical enough. And so I was.’ She glanced at Jason. ‘He would be quite amazed at how reversed are now those traits.’

‘And what became of your romantic nature?’ Jason asked quietly.

Helen cocked her head to one side and held out her hands before her, slowly intertwining her slender fingers. ‘Oh, I am still a romantic on occasions …’ A sweetly shy smile flitted to him. ‘Have
you not noticed how enchanted I am by Charlotte’s betrothal? She has the most wonderful engagement ring … rubies and diamonds, and soon we will shop for her trousseau and discuss a wedding breakfast and flowers and so on …’ She absently rotated her plain gold wedding band. ‘Oh, there is still a lot to enjoy that is wonderfully romantic.’ Aware suddenly of a quiet protracting between them, Helen neared him and looked calmly into his eyes. ‘I have told the truth. Has it put you off having me as your mistress?’

‘No.’

She smiled up at him, marvelling again at how extraordinarily handsome he was. ‘We have been honest in the past. I like being able to speak plainly to you. I was not nagging you earlier, it is just …’

‘You don’t want me to ruin your plan.’

‘And will you?’

‘Of course not.’ He smiled at her before dipping his head and taking her mouth in a swift, hard kiss.

Helen was still reeling from that bruising assault when he said, ‘At least you consider me the devil it’s better to know. I’m not sure everyone would agree with you.’

Helen looked earnestly up into his dark, long-lashed eyes. ‘I do not think you a devil at all,’ she said with husky sincerity. ‘You have been considerate
and kind and it will certainly be no hardship to—’ She broke off, aware of being a word away from reassuring him with indelicate candour.

‘Go on …’ He turned her face up to his with relentlessly firm fingers. ‘We speak plainly … don’t we?’

‘It will be no hardship to be intimate with you … to sleep with you.’ It was uttered almost defiantly and she boldly held his gaze. ‘You are not a repugnant character or physically ugly. In fact, you are quite handsome, as I’m sure you know.’ She felt her cheeks warming beneath the sudden glint of humour in his eyes and whipped about her head to frown at the moon.

‘Thank you, Helen, for that compliment. And you are quite beautiful, as I’m sure you know. There … in one respect we make the perfect couple,’ he remarked drily. ‘I think that the theatre or Vauxhall Gardens is probably the best place for our first outing together. Have you a preference?’

Helen swiftly shook her head and murmured, ‘No.’

‘I’ll send you a note detailing what I’ve arranged,’ Jason said. ‘I’ve taken a house on the outskirts of Chelsea that I think you will like. We will finish the evening there, if you’re agreeable. I imagine you would want to return to Westlea House and not leave your sister alone at night?’

Helen nodded and chewed her lower lip before sending him a wavering smile. ‘It would be best if we are very discreet about our times there, at least until after Charlotte is married and moves in with Philip. I would not want her to be shunned should it all leak out.’

‘Of course.’

‘Thank you.’

‘I think it’s time we went inside.’ Jason extended a hand to her; their progress towards the French doors was timely, for a couple strolled out. Mr and Mrs Bond were neighbours of the Goodes and they exchanged a few words about the happy occasion before Helen and Jason continued into the drawing room. Without another word passing between them, Jason led Helen towards her sister and ten minutes later politely took his leave.

‘What in damnation is
he
doing here?’

Iris swung her blonde head towards her husband, then followed the direction of his astonished glower. ‘I invited him.’ It was a brisk response, for her china blue eyes had returned to a more fascinating sight than Colin Bridgeman’s late arrival at Charlotte’s engagement party.