The Sins of Lord Easterbrook (18 page)

“I am sure that you would. Then you could go back to your old habits, content in knowing that your pleasure could be had with little inconvenience.” She bent and kissed him. “I know that attending those parties did not suit you. I am flattered that you wanted me enough to bother. I will not join you in that isolation, however. I am of the world, and have responsibilities that require I remain in it, and that I take some care with my reputation.”

“That is a damned excuse.” His attention sharpened on her eyes. “You do not want me sure of you, that is what you really mean. You do not want to admit that you are mine. It is not society with whom you want to dissemble. It is with me and it is with yourself.”

His accusation pierced her with its truth. Rather suddenly the playful negotiations ended and more serious ones began. “I cannot be yours because you cannot be mine. Or do you assume such things only go one way?”

“I think that we are both incapable of denying how this will be.”

“One afternoon of passion does not make the bonds you describe, and I am mature enough to accept that. Nor do a few months of pleasure, if we meet like this in the weeks ahead.”

His expression found a severe beauty at her allusion to her eventual departure from England.

That magnetic, invasive aura flowed from him. His gaze searched, as if he tried to read her thoughts. She instantly hid them away, from him and herself.

He took her hand and tugged her into his embrace. He rolled until she was on her back and he was braced above her, looking down. “And here I thought that you had surrendered completely. It appears that I will have to do better yet,
when
we meet like this in the weeks ahead, Leona.”

V
ague sounds of London wakening entered with the breeze. Christian listened to the distant rumble of the first carriages and carts making their way down the streets.

Leona slept in his arms. He derived enormous contentment in her femininity and softness. He could stay like this all day most likely. There had been little sleep last night and she was dead to the world.

The pleasure had been very good. Whether it was good enough remained to be seen. He did not want any more of her ambiguities about how it would be between them. He would rather not propose a formal arrangement, but he would if that was what she wanted.

Perhaps it was. She had spoken of security when they argued about Pedro. Right now her only security came from her place in her brother's home.

He was an idiot. Of course a woman would worry about that. Especially Leona, who had known so much insecurity while her father's business wobbled under
the onslaught of those ruinous setbacks when she was a girl.

He looked down at her dreamy expression. Her cheek pressed his chest. He could see long, dark eyelashes and the subtle parting of her full lips. Her raven curls tumbled over his arm and shoulder.

Some birds alighted on the tree outside the open window. Their song rang in the bedchamber. A little mumble provided a base line to the music. He closed his eyes and focused on that deeper sound.

It was human, and part of it entered him inaudibly He had experienced an absence of all such intrusions for hours now, since he entered this house.

He realized it came from the garden below the window. He eased away from Leona and rose from the bed. He went to the window and looked out.

Isabella was down there, in a simple
qipao.
Her black hair hung long and straight, an indication that she had just risen. She spoke quietly to two men, but her agitated gestures made the broad sleeves of her garment fly around her.

The three looked to be arguing. Heads together, they spoke so lowly that little more than that annoying buzz reached the window.

“What in the name of Zeus are you doing down there, Phippen?”

Shock. Alarm.
Three faces turned up to him. Phippen froze, then scurried behind Miller and peered at the window from behind his shield.

Miller smiled, being a young man too callow to know when he was about to die. “We are sorry if we
woke you, my lord. But it may be just as well. The maid here refused to intrude.”

“That is because she knows how very grievously it would displease me if she did. Being a proper servant, she knows the importance of discretion and the value of being invisible.”

Phippen's eyes grew wide. Miller's smile trembled just enough. “Nothing short of a serious matter would ever cause us to be here, sir. Last night word for you came from your brother, Lord Hayden.”

Hayden would only send word in the dead of night for one reason. “Is it over? Is it done?”

“Yes, my lord. Lady Alexia has given birth and—”

“Is she well? Is the child well?”

“Yes, my lord. We waited to see if you would return last night. When you did not, I told Phippen here that we should try to find you since you have been waiting for this news and—my apologies, but I guessed that you might be here.”

“Good man. Phippen, come up here. Help Isabella prepare baths. Miller, go to Hayden's house and tell him I will be there forthwith.”

He turned from the window to find Leona sitting up in bed. She wore a puzzled frown.

“Why are you shouting out the window?”

“I was not shouting.”

“You were at the end. All of the neighbors probably heard. You probably woke them. You certainly woke me.” She crawled off the bed and walked over, oblivious to her nakedness or his. She peered down. “Who was out there?”

“My manservant and my valet.”

“Is that customary? For your servants to follow you to the houses of your lovers?”

“They came on a special mission.” He told her the good news about his new nephew. “Phippen will help Isabella with baths and such. We must hurry though. I want to leave within the hour.”

“We?”

“I want to introduce you to Alexia. You will like her.”

She looked at him as if he were mad. Or at least half so. “She just
gave birth,
Easterbrook. She does not want social calls from strangers.”

“I am not a stranger. As for you, she will not mind. She will be happy to meet you. I am sure of it.” A scratch on the door drew his attention to both of their naked states. He grabbed his garments and pulled on his trousers. “I trust there is another chamber for Phippen and me to use. Tell Isabella to make haste.”

He gave her a quick kiss, then threw open the door. Isabella startled at his sudden appearance, then lowered her eyes from his naked chest. He pushed past her and went looking for Phippen.

A new lover and a new nephew. It had been a splendid night.

Leona liked to think that she had acquired a worldly sophistication over the years. She knew that she had a talent for adapting to the varied mores found in other lands.

She covered her hair and face when in countries where women were shrouded. She ate whatever food was served her at dinners even if she could not identify
its exotic ingredients. She had negotiated with men of every color and religion, but had never tried to be other than a woman to them. The profits she offered bridged any chasms her sex might create, as long as she did not treat their customs and beliefs with scorn.

London was not Macao. There were nuances of propriety that differed from home, even if both were European in essential ways. She had spotted those variances quickly, and done her best to respect the English way of doing things.

All of which meant that as she and Easterbrook rolled down Hill Street in his coach, she was very, very certain that his bringing her along had been a bad idea. She did not look forward to what promised to be an extremely awkward introduction.

She could not reason with him. He was all Easterbrook this morning, sure of his privileges and judgments, impatient with rules that applied only to lesser men. He had fairly dragged her into the carriage when she demurred.

The servant at the door took his hat and gloves and the mantlet she had worn against the morning damp. Phippen and Miller had brought fresh garments to her house, so Easterbrook looked his lordly best as they were escorted to the drawing room.

He paced while they waited, absorbed in thought, so oblivious to her presence that she wondered why he had brought her. Finally a man joined them. Lord Hayden Rothwell, no doubt. He resembled his older brother in many ways, only his face possessed subtle differences that made it even more severe. Stern, actually.

His gaze swept the room and settled on her for a long moment. Her stomach kicked. She braced herself for withering politeness at best.

Then he smiled. It was a very small smile, but it transformed his countenance. She suspected it was not really a smile for her, but the joy of a new father simply having its way.

“I am sorry I was not at home,” Christian said after greeting his brother. “I would have sat it out with you if I had known.”

“It happened very fast. By the time I could send word, it was over.” Hayden looked at Leona, directing his brother's attention.

Introductions were made. Lord Hayden was too good to ask what in the name of heaven she was doing there. She tried to smile in a way that conveyed her apologies.

“Is Alexia awake?” Christian asked.

“She is. She insisted that I bring you up.”

“I will wait here,” Leona rushed to say. “Please give her my best wishes on the happy news.”

“You may give them yourself. When Alexia learned my brother had brought you with him, she insisted on getting a look at you.”

It was perhaps not the best turn of phrase, but probably an accurate one.

“So, let us go,” Christian said. “I am impatient to see my nephew.”

Lord Hayden had taken one step. He stopped and cocked his head. “Were you not told?”

“Told what?”

“It is a girl.”

Christian cocked his head in turn. “A girl?”

“A girl.”

“Are you sure?”

“There can be no mistake in these matters.” He watched his brother with amusement. “Are you disappointed?”

“No. Of course not. It is just—there have been no girls. None of us were girls. Father had no sisters. His father had none either. I just assumed.…”

“That is something that you are apt to do on occasion, Christian. But I assure you, it is a girl.” He held out his arm toward the door, suggesting they go through it.

Leona walked beside a very surprised Marquess of Easterbrook as they went up to the family chambers. When they passed a study, she saw Lord Elliot in conversation with another man, one with very blue eyes and dark hair.

“The odds are about even,” she whispered. “You do know that, don't you?” She could not believe she was asking a grown man such a question, but his astonishment was real.

“Of course I know that. I was certain it would be a son, however.”

“How could you be certain when no one else can be?”

“I just
knew.
Do you never just
know
something?”

“Not as securely as you seem to. I think that is for the best. Otherwise I might just
know
something as well as you just
knew
this, and end up as wrong in my knowing as you have been.”

He scowled, but his expression cleared when they arrived at the door of Lady Alexia'a apartment.

Only women were in Lady Alexia's chamber. They all appeared busy with the kind of aid reserved for sickrooms, but the happy chatter as the door opened was that of friends passing the time. All talk and activity stopped when Lord Hayden ushered in his brother.

Leona held back at the doorway, ready to slip away completely once Christian was distracted. The attention of the women centered on him, but Lady Phaedra smiled a welcome in her direction and another woman, a stunning blonde, gave her a long glance.

On the bed, tucked beneath a clean sheet, lay the new mother. She had dark hair and a kind face and eyes that appeared almost purple in the morning light filtering through the transparent drapes.

A transformation occurred as the room's occupants accommodated the arrival of the marquess. Even among family intimates he was Easterbrook. His station and his title, his authority as head of the family, introduced a note of formality into the way they greeted him. Even Lady Phaedra retreated into herself, in reaction or in deference to how he commanded the room.

Lady Alexia alone did not appear impressed. Her sleepy smile held a private warmth, and her eyes lit up in ways that suggested a secret sympathy with her husband's brother.

He went to her bedside and bent to kiss her forehead. “You are looking well, Alexia. This is a great day for our family.”

“Do you want to see her?”

“Of course.”

“Rose, please bring Estella.”

The blond woman walked to a little crib adorned with drapery and skirts. She carried over a bundle and laid it in Lady Alexia's arms.

Easterbrook looked down a long while on the child's face. Then, without asking, he gently took the bundle into his own arms so he could peer closer.

Leona watched his expression as he cradled that tiny baby. She recognized that deep, serious gaze, and sensed his dark energy seeking something. There was no threat in it, but he looked at the child so long that awkwardness settled among the others in the chamber.