Five
“This is the place, my lord.” Jameson pointed at the narrow brick building. “She came out and stepped right in me path. Nearly stopped me heart, it did.”
“Thank you, Jameson.”
Luke stepped out of the carriage and regarded the less than impressive office with a narrowed gaze. It had been nearly a week since he had rescued the impetuous Lady Greer from her absurd visit to the theater district. A week that he had devoted to uncovering the truth behind the maiden’s mysterious charade, only to fail in the most dismal fashion.
Much to his chagrin, Lady Greer remained thoroughly impervious to his supposedly irresistible charms. His daily visits were greeted with an icy displeasure, and his subtle attempts to unmask her secrets were cut decidedly short. It was quite obvious that he had at last met his match.
Eventually, desperation had forced him to seek his answers in another direction. His first meeting with Lady Greer had been in front of this building. Her reason for being there had to give some clue to her transformation from a country Miss to an elegant courtesan.
A few discreet inquiries had revealed that a Mr. Albert Carson currently rented the building, and that he would eagerly oblige Lord Mumford with a meeting at his convenience. They also revealed Mr. Carson to be a staunch, rather humorless gentleman who was quite above bribery and never gossiped about his clients. His one weakness was an ambition to attract a family of quality to represent.
Luke fully intended to use such an ambition to his advantage.
“I shall be a few moments, Jameson.”
“Very good, my lord.” Jameson gave a slight bow before leaping back onto the carriage.
Luke crossed to the door and entered the narrow hall. His Hessians echoed through the stiff silence as he made his way to the office. At his entrance, a thin, nearly bald-headed gentleman jumped to his feet.
“My lord, please come in. This is indeed a pleasure,” he stammered, pulling forward a refurbished chair. “Would you care for tea? Or perhaps you prefer brandy?”
Luke waved a negligent hand as he strolled to lower his large frame in the seat.
“Nothing for me, thank you.”
“Very well.” Mr. Carson gave a reluctant nod as he resumed his place behind the ancient desk. “Now, how may I be of service, my lord?”
Luke carefully maintained an air of negligent boredom. He did not wish to create any suspicion about his interest in the golden-haired maiden. Stretching out his legs, he gave a faint shrug.
“Actually, I have a rather peculiar request.”
“Oh?”
“A fortnight ago, I encountered a young lady leaving your establishment. She possessed golden hair and was attired in a gray gown.”
The Man of Business gave a startled cough. Whatever he had been expecting from Luke, it was certainly not this.
“Is there any particular reason for your interest?” he cautiously hedged.
Luke suppressed a wry grin, wondering if the man thought him to be a debaucher of young, innocent ladies.
“She dropped a pair of gloves. I wish to return them.”
Mr. Carson appeared far from appeased by the glib lie.
“How very kind,” he murmured. “But there is no need for you to be bothered with such a trivial matter. If you give me the gloves, I will gladly see that they are returned.”
“I prefer to return them myself.” Luke’s tone defied argument.
“Oh, but—”
“I, of course, require her name and address.”
“My lord.” The man ran a nervous hand over his head, clearly torn between loyalty to his client and a desire to please his illustrious visitor. “I fear that is impossible.”
“Nonsense. Nothing is impossible.”
“I cannot possibly give out the young lady’s name.”
“Why?”
Mr. Carson gave an uncomfortable smile. “It is a matter of discretion. You understand, my lord.”
“Frankly, I do not,” Luke drawled. “I merely wish to return a pair of gloves.”
The gentleman cleared his throat, obviously wishing that he could crawl beneath his desk.
“A young lady cannot be overly cautious in such times,” he attempted to soothe.
Luke arched an imperious brow, using his commanding presence to his full advantage.
“Surely, Mr. Carson, you are not implying that my intentions toward this young lady are of an unsavory nature?”
The poor man gave a strangled noise, his eyes protruding in sudden anxiety.
“No, certainly not. I ... That is ...”
“Yes?”
Mr. Carson squirmed beneath Luke’s piercing regard, the battle between his stiff morals and his worldly ambitions waging beneath the surface. At last his ambition overcame his pesky principles, and he gave a shaky laugh.
“Yes, well, perhaps there would be no harm.”
Luke smiled in satisfaction. There were times when his vast inheritance came in decidedly handy.
“Certainly not.”
“The young lady is Miss Cassandra Stanholte. I believe she prefers to go by Cassie.”
“Cassie,” Luke breathed, feeling a fierce stab of relief. At last a name for his mysterious maiden.
“From Devonshire,” Mr. Carson completed.
“Do you have her address in London?”
“She has no residence in London. Indeed, her visit was quite brief. She has already returned to her estate.”
Luke was not surprised the Man of Business was unaware that Miss Stanholte was far closer than Devonshire. She had gone to great lengths to disguise her presence in London.
The question was, why?
“What a pity.” He pretended an absorbed interest in the cuff of his deep jade green coat. “I presume she resides with her parents?”
“Her parents unfortunately died in an accident several years ago.”
“Then she possesses a guardian?”
“It is a rather . . . unconventional household, my lord,” Mr. Carson conceded, his grimace revealing his disapproval of the situation. “Miss Stanholte is a very independent young lady and not easily persuaded she has need of a guardian.”
Luke swallowed a chuckle. He was wretchedly familiar with Miss Stanholte’s independent nature. And not remotely shocked that she would refuse the protection of a guardian.
At least he now understood how she managed to disappear into the disreputable neighborhood without creating a scandal. There was no one to wonder what had become of Miss Stanholte or to question why she had not returned from London.
“Indeed. She at least depends upon you for her business advice.” He favored the gentleman with a slight smile. “I presume that was her reason for traveling to London?”
A pained expression of regret tightened the thin face. “I really must insist that my business with Miss Stanholte remain in confidence, my lord.”
Luke subdued his instinctive desire to demand that the Man of Business reveal the truth of Miss Stanholte’s visit to London. How else could he discover the reason for her bizarre behavior? But the realization that such a demand would only confirm that his interest in the maiden was far from casual held his tongue.
“Ah, well, I will ensure that my secretary has the gloves delivered to Miss Stanholte in Devonshire.”
Mr. Carson smiled in relief. “I am certain she will be most appreciative. Although I would prefer that you not mention my name.”
“Certainly not.” With a languid grace, Luke rose to his feet. It appeared he had pressed the man as far as he dared. At least for the moment. “Thank you, Mr. Carson.”
Leaping to his feet, Mr. Carson gave a nervous bow.
“Please let me know if I can be of further service, my lord.”
“Yes, I will.”
With a faint nod, Luke turned to leave the small office.
Miss Cassandra Stanholte of Devonshire.
He turned the name over and over in his mind as he moved down the hall and into the street. At his appearance, the glossy carriage pulled forward and the groom leapt down to open the door.
“To Lady Greer’s,” he commanded as he climbed into the leather seat.
Settling himself comfortably, Luke allowed a smile of anticipation to curve his lips.
* * *
Several streets away, Cassie forced herself to calmly sit on the sofa and enjoy her tea. Or at least to pretend to enjoy her tea. Not for the world would she admit that she was anxiously dreading the arrival of the annoying Lord Mumford.
The man was a wretched nuisance, she told herself sternly. Every day he appeared without warning, as if he possessed the right to treat her home with such casual intimacy. No matter how often she repulsed his advances or threatened to have him thrown from her house, he simply refused to leave her in peace. And while a more vain female might accept his flirtatious banter at face value, Cassie had not missed the piercing questions and the occasional frown of suspicion she caught on his handsome countenance.
For reasons best known to himself, Lord Mumford had developed an absurd interest in her arrival in this neighborhood, and for the life of her, Cassie could not conceive how to dismiss his attentions.
Even worse, she could not convince her staff that the annoying man was not a welcome visitor to her home.
It was little wonder she was as susceptible to her nerves as any vaporish Miss.
With an abrupt motion, she tossed aside the untasted sponge cake. This was ridiculous. She had far more serious matters to dwell upon than the Irresistible Earl and his peculiar ability to ruffle her staunch composure. Besides which, today she had set her housekeeper to watch the door. Lord Mumford might be able to charm his way past the London servants, but he would find himself hard-pressed to outmaneuver the implacable Mary Green.
Determined to bend her thoughts upon her more pressing troubles, Cassie suddenly froze as a shadow fell across the open French doors. This was not the first shadow that had caught her attention. Although she could never confirm her suspicion, Cassie had more than once possessed the sensation she was being spied upon. Now that familiar tingle of apprehension inched down her spine, and she slowly rose to her feet.
Was there someone skulking outside her house? Someone who suspected there was more to her presence than just another fallen woman? Or, more frightening, someone who hoped to take advantage of a young lady without the protection of her family?
On the point of calling for help, Cassie watched as the shadow abruptly disappeared, only to be replaced by a large, all too familiar form. In an instant, her fear faded to anger as she watched Lord Mumford casually stride through the open door and into the salon.
Her eyes narrowed in exasperation. Obviously, having been turned aside by Mrs. Green, he had simply rounded the house and waltzed in as if he had every right to come and go as he pleased.
Did the gentleman not comprehend the word no?
Unhinged as much by her initial flare of fear as by Lord Mumford’s outrageous arrogance, Cassie favored him with a forbidding frown.
“Really, sir, you are—”
“Maddening? Vexing? Irresistibly charming?” he interrupted with a wicked smile.
“Bloody impossible,” Cassie muttered to herself, attempting to ignore the treacherous flutter of her heart. Not an easy task, considering the gentleman offered a most captivating sight in his jade coat and tan pantaloons.
How was she to concentrate when her gaze longed to linger on the noble lines of his countenance and the inviting shimmer in his blue eyes?
With an effort, she subdued her unruly thoughts. Tilting her chin, she eyed him squarely.
“Surely, my lord, there must be some house in all of London where your presence is actually welcome?”
“Countless.” His smile only widened as he moved farther into the room. “I will have you know that my visits are in the greatest demand. Indeed, I have been assured by more than one hostess that my mere presence is enough to ensure the success of her gathering.”
“Poppycock,” Cassie muttered before she could halt the word.
Surprisingly, Lord Mumford tilted back his head to chuckle in rich amusement.
“Rather my sentiments as well.”
She regarded him in disbelief “Really?”
“I have little patience with such drivel. I assure you my company was not so avidly sought when I was another penniless earl.” He lifted a quizzing glass to survey a lacquer chair with its red satin cushions. “Egad, what a repulsive object. I presume that it is safe to sit upon?”
“I do not recall inviting you to sit.”
“No doubt because you did not.” He dropped the quizzing glass to regard her with that insufferable amusement. “However, I am gracious enough to ignore your questionable manners.”
Her hands clenched in frustration. “Now see here, my lord—”
“Yes, yes, my dear,” he drawled. “You are about to demand that I leave. I will refuse. You will then make a number of threats, which I will ignore. In the end I will still be here and you will have caused yourself a great deal of unnecessary aggravation. Why do you not simply concede defeat and ring for tea?”
Cassie stamped her foot. He had to be the most infuriating gentleman in all of England.
“If I were not a woman on my own, you would not be taking advantage of me in this infamous manner.”
He lifted his dark brows. “I hardly consider requesting tea taking advantage of you.”
“A true gentleman would respect my wishes.”
Surprisingly, his smile faded to be replaced by that narrowed gaze that always made her fear he could see straight to her heart.
“You are quite fortunate that I am indeed a gentleman.”
She stiffened. “Pardon me?”
With slow, deliberate steps he moved forward to stand directly in front of her.
“As you have just pointed out, you are a woman on your own. That unfortunately leaves you at the mercy of a vast array of men, many of whom would demand more than tea from you.”
Cassie could not prevent the heat from crawling beneath her skin. His words struck too close to her earlier unease.
“You are the only gentleman who bothers me, my lord,” she weakly countered.
“Good God, are you being deliberately obtuse?” he demanded. “I would think even someone of your stubborn nature would accept the danger of being in such a neighborhood.”
“This is none of your concern.”
“What if I had been some gentleman who presumed he possessed the right to demand your attentions? Or a ruffian like those you encountered at the theater?”
Her color receded to leave her pale, but she refused to admit the truth of his words. How could she?
“I have no desire to discuss this with you.”
“Because you know you are being a fool.”
“I am quite capable of taking care of myself. I do not need your assistance.”
The blue eyes darkened at her angry challenge; then, without warning, he reached up to grasp her chin with slender fingers.
“Of all the ridiculous things you have said, I believe that is the most absurd.”
His touch sent a sharp tingle of awareness down her spine, and Cassie felt her breath catch in her throat. He was so close. She could feel the heat of his body and smell the hint of sandalwood that clung to his warm skin.
“Why will you not leave me in peace?” she pleaded softly.
The unnerving gaze lowered to study the tremble of her soft lips.
“Perhaps I wish to teach you a valuable lesson,” he murmured.
“I have no desire to learn any lessons from you, sir.”
He ignored her unsteady words, his hand moving to softly brush her cheek. Cassie shivered at the rash of sensations that flared to life.
“Such beautiful skin. Softer than the most expensive silk.”
Cassie struggled to breathe as her heart pounded out of control.
“Please ...”
“And eyes the color of a dove.”
“Stop this.”
The dark head bent even closer, and Cassie felt her body tremble in delicious anticipation.
“ ‘Never have I laid eyes on equal beauty in man or woman. I am hushed indeed.’ You tempt a man beyond all reason, Lady Greer,” he whispered in husky tones.
“My lord.” Cassie barely recognized her own voice. “I must insist that you leave.”
“But why?” The disturbing fingers trailed the length of her jaw, then halted on the frantic pulse beating in her neck. “Is this not why you dress in such a provocative manner? Why you live in this neighborhood and parade yourself in the park? You wish to attract the attentions of a rich gentleman. Well, you have succeeded. I am very, very attracted.”
Cassie gave a slow shake of her head. She should be furious. Outraged at his audacious behavior. No matter what he might think of her position, she was a lady who deserved his respect. Even if he was merely attempting to teach her a lesson.
But rather than fury, it was a treacherous heat that flowed through her blood.
“No . . . I mean . . .”
“Yes? What do you mean?” His breath brushed her flushed cheek. “That you wish me to do this?” His mouth lowered to claim her lips in a soft, searching kiss. Cassie moaned as the disturbing lips caressed and teased, then moved to press against the lids of her eyes that had strangely slid shut. “And this?” he breathed, nuzzling his way down to the sensitive line of her neck.
“No.” With an effort, Cassie attempted to clear her foggy thoughts. Her body quivered as his mouth searched ever lower. “If you do not leave, I will scream.”
Laughing softly, Luke lifted his head to regard her with smoldering eyes.
“It will do little good. The staff is paid to leave us strictly alone when I am visiting.”
It took a moment for his words to sink through the thick fog in her mind; then her eyes widened with disbelief.
The arrogance of this man.
“How dare you?”
“Very easily,” he retorted without apology.
She moved to sweep past him, only to be abruptly halted as his arm encircled her waist and he tugged her against the hard contours of his form. A shudder of delight coursed through her body before she was sternly subduing her unruly reaction to his touch.
“Unhand me, sir.”
He smiled at her breathless tone. “For a lady so capable of fending for herself, you are finding it remarkably difficult to rid yourself of one mere gentleman.”
“This is not amusing, Lord Mumford,” she gritted.
“It is not meant to be, Lady Greer,” he countered. “I wish you to realize just how vulnerable you are in this house.”
She had never been more poignantly aware of her vulnerability, she acknowledged.
Every nerve tingled with life, and her mouth still carried the branding heat of his lips. A most unnerving condition for a woman who had never before been kissed.
“Please, my lord, no more lessons,” she muttered.
Something seemed to flicker deep in the blue eyes, but his expression remained unrelenting.
“Then you agree you cannot remain here?”
“I agree to nothing.”
He heaved an exasperated sigh. “Have the past few moments taught you nothing, then?”
Cassie was uncertain whether she wanted to probe into what she might have learned in the past few moments. It was enough to acknowledge that this gentleman could disturb her in a manner that was beyond her control.
“It has taught me that you are a disgraceful cad, Lord Mumford.”
“Why, you aggravating minx.” He shook his head, even as a reluctant smile tugged at his lips. “Are you always this reluctant to accept reasonable advice, or is it simply because the advice comes from me?”
“I have no need of advice, especially from you—”
Her angry words were interrupted as the door to the salon was thrust open to reveal an impassive Tolson.
“Pardon me, my lady,” he intoned, not seeming to notice that Cassie was currently pressed to Lord Mumford in a most intimate fashion. “But you have a visitor.”
Deeply embarrassed to have been caught in such a compromising position, Cassie hastily scrambled away from Luke’s lingering grasp and nervously pressed a hand to her heart.
“A visitor?”
“Yes. A rather disreputable young lady. I attempted to send her on her way, but—”
“Tell her it be about Nell,” a nasal female voice shrilled from the hall. “I ain’t here to beg.”
Cassie’s emotional turmoil was momentarily forgotten as she felt a sudden flare of excitement. After an entire week of vainly attempting to conjure a means of continuing her search for the elusive Nell, it appeared the answer might have marched onto her very doorstep.
“Send her in, Tolson. And please bring in tea.”
Raising a hand to smooth her ruffled curls, Cassie missed the butler’s swift glance toward Lord Mumford, and the elegant gentleman’s subtle nod.
“Very well.” Tolson gave a precise bow before backing out of the room.
With a sharp motion, Cassie turned to meet the bland regard of her unwelcome intruder. She had no time for polite tactics, she decided as she unconsciously squared her shoulders.
“I must beg you to leave, my lord.”
Predictably, he folded his arms across the broad width of his chest.
“I prefer to remain.”
“No,” she retorted bluntly. She had to rid herself of this tenacious man. “This is a private matter.”
“Private or not, I am not about to leave you with some strange woman from the streets. For all you know, she might have some companion waiting in the bushes for an opportunity to slip inside while you are distracted.”
She shook her head in exasperated disbelief. Of all the women in London, why the devil had he chosen her to bother?
“It is none of your concern.”
He rolled his eyes heavenward. “Not that tedious argument again, Lady Greer? I am not leaving, and that is the end of the matter.”
Cassie gritted her teeth, wondering if she possessed the nerve to call for the Watch. It might be amusing to see the elegant lord hauled away as a public nuisance. But the knowledge that she would never dare call such attention to herself halted the brief fantasy.
Instead, she bestowed him with a glare that would have flayed a lesser man.
“Some day, Lord Mumford, I will make you rue your interference.”
He smiled as he offered her a mocking bow. “I await that day with great anticipation. Until then, shall we see what our guest has to say?”