Deception in Regency Society: A Wicked Liaison / Lady Folbroke's Delicious Deception
of the job.’ He stared into her eyes and his smile faded. ‘With the risks I’m taking, I never withhold pleasure or payment for tomorrow. One can not guarantee the outcome. If they catch me and hang me, your gratitude is worthless.’
‘Very well, then.’ Here and now? He would not even lead her to his bed? She felt her knees turn to water and a tremor of excitement go through her at the thought of what was about to happen. She reached to undo her bodice, trying not to rush in her eagerness.
‘I did not request payment.’
Her hand stopped.
‘When did I ever demand anything of you?’ he asked softly. ‘I said I would do this for you, and I shall. I do not wish to—how did you put it?—“take liberties”. From you, I do not wish to take anything at all. I will take care of your problem.’ He waved his hand as though dealing with Barton were no more difficult than shooing a fly. ‘Tonight, all you needed to do was ask and I would have offered to do all in my power to aid you. And as a gentleman, I do not require your gratitude afterwards. Do not mention it again.’
‘Thank you.’ But she did not feel like thanking him. She felt like shouting at him. And the flush in her cheeks was from shame, not excitement.
There was another long pause. And his eyes remained focused on her face, studiously ignoring the rest of her. ‘Is there anything else you wished of me?’
There were many things, none of which she could very well ask for. To begin with, she wanted him to gaze at her as he had done, when she had entered the room, and not with the coldness and disdain he was showing now. ‘No, I think that is all.’
He nodded, and said nothing more. His expression did not change. The silence stretched between them.
‘I should probably be going, then.’
He nodded. ‘I think that’s best. Do you wish me to escort you home?’ And now he showed the same level of concern that any gentleman might show to a lady.
‘No. I am all right. It was not far to walk.’ She could not stand the embarrassment of his respect a moment longer.
‘You walked?’ His voice held disapproval. ‘It is not seemly or safe for a woman to travel alone at night. I will tell Patrick to get you a hackney.’
‘No.’ She had shocked him, by her behaviour, by coming alone to his home, and by her dress, or lack thereof. This was not how the night was to end at all.
‘I insist.’ His voice was emphatic, so she nodded and rose. He reached for her cloak and dropped it on to her shoulders, concealing her body from view before opening the door. She reached to pull it closed in front of her.
He escorted her to the door of his study and out into the hall. He directed his servant to find her transportation. Then he turned his back upon her and returned to his room.
The servant whom she had met the previous night led her down the stairs and left her standing at the front door, as he hailed a cab for her, and she sensed pity in his smile as he helped her into the coach.
Anthony returned to his chair and waited until the door closed behind her, and then waited a little longer. He imagined her progress through the house and out of the front door. Then he drained his wine in a gulp, and called for his valet.
The man appeared like a ghost behind him. ‘Sir?’
‘Patrick, bring me brandy. And plenty of it.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Patrick was resigned to his master’s behaviour, even if he did not approve of it. He left the room and reappeared a short time later, carrying a tray laden with a full bottle of the best brandy in the cellars.
Patrick poured the first glass, and when he seemed to be finished, his master signalled him with a raising of the hand. ‘Eh, eh, eh, a little more, still.’ Tony watched the level rise in the glass. He held up a hand. ‘Stop. That’s the ticket. And keep them coming, Patrick.’ He drank half the brandy and blurted, ‘That woman. I swear, Patrick, she will be the death of me. I cannot countenance what she did, just now.’ He finished the glass, and held it out to be refilled.
‘First she snubs me in public, and makes it known to me that she prefers another. Then she comes to me, soft and willing, just as I’ve always dreamed she would. She is finally here, and wants my help. And at any time, does she recognise me? No.’
‘It has been a long time, sir. Both you and she have changed significantly.’
‘One thing has not changed. She did not want me then, and she does not want me now. Did you see her? Dear God.’ He allowed himself a moment of carnal pleasure at the memory. ‘No stays, thin silk gown, and I swear she’d damped the skirts.’ He shook his head. ‘Like a French woman. Nothing left to imagination, not that my imagination needs any help when it comes to her. But she should not have been out in the streets in that condition. She’d catch her death. She made it quite clear, in the library today, that she wanted no part of me, and that our association was an embarrassment.
‘Very well. I do not need to be told twice. I meant to avoid her in the future. If she does not want me, then there is no point in making an even greater fool of myself than I have been.’ He stared down into his second brandy. He was already feeling the effects of the first, and thought the better of the second drink, tossing the contents of the glass into the fire, listening to the spirits hissing in the flames.
‘A few hours pass, and she comes to my room dressed to seduce me. Very well, thinks I. She has no trouble acknowledging me when we are alone. If I had any pride, I would refuse her. Which would prove I’m an even bigger fool than I thought, for how can I turn down an offer like this? She’s been married long enough to know what’s what and widowed long enough to miss it. She might ignore me tomorrow, but the morning is a long way off, and we’ll have a time of it tonight.’
He stared down into his empty glass, and Patrick shook his head and poured again.
‘And why did she come to me? She wants me to steal for her. Not a problem, of course. I’d die for her, if she but asked. Burglary is not a sticking point. And if I did, she would deign to lie with me. Afterwards. In gratitude.’ He closed his eyes and drank more slowly this time.
‘She looked at me with those sherry-coloured eyes, and hung her head as though the path to my bed was a passage to Botany Bay.’ He finished the brandy and said sadly, ‘It was not the way I’d imagined it.’
Patrick looked at him in disappointment. ‘What you have wanted for half your life was here, within your grasp. And you choose instead to send it away and call for a brandy bottle.’
‘It wasn’t what I wanted,’ he argued. ‘Her gratitude, indeed.’
‘What, exactly, do you want from her, then, if not to lie with her?’
‘I want her to see me for who I am, even if she cannot see me for who I was. All she sees is the thief, Patrick. And to catch him, she was willing to be the whore that a thief deserved.’ He thought back to the sight of her, her breasts swaying beneath her gown, her legs outlined by the cloth. ‘Not that I minded, seeing her. But I wager she does not dress thusly when she is trying to impress Endsted.’
‘Would you wish her to, sir?’
‘No. Of course not. If it were my choice, she would not see Endsted, again, under any circumstances. And I would make damn sure that he never got to see what I saw tonight. The man is an utter prig. I doubt he’d have known what to do with her, in any case.’
‘Unlike you, sir, Endsted would have sat there like a lecher, staring at her charms while making it clear that he disapproved of her behaviour. And then he would have insulted her by sending her away. She would have gone home, with head hung low and near tears, convinced that she was in some way morally repellent or deformed in body. I am sure she will think twice in the future before exposing to the gentleman in question any sign of interest or vulnerability that might lead to further ridicule.’
Tony ignored