An Innocent Proposal - Хелен Диксон - Chapter Three Читать онлайн любовный роман

Chapter Three

By the time Louisa reached the house there was a curious lightness to her step and a freedom in her heart. She knew that what she was planning would place her in unfamiliar territory, but she could not bear to contemplate the alternative. The more she thought about it, the more she became convinced it was the answer to all their problems.

She was surprised to find Timothy there alone, and disappointed to find that James, despite his circumstances, had left for the Somerset coffee-house in the Strand to meet up with some of his acquaintances, who usually gathered there in the mornings for breakfast and to converse.

“I’ve been waiting for you, Louisa,” Timothy said on a serious note. “When I arrived Alice told me both you and James were out, but that you would not be long. I’ve nothing doing today so I thought you and James might care to take a stroll in St James’s Park with me this afternoon. It’s a pleasant day and we could watch the soldiers on parade at Horse Guards. Afterwards we could take tea somewhere pleasant and later you and James can be my guests for supper. Come, what do you say? It might be just the thing you need to help cheer you after the unfortunate events of last night.”

Louisa gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Timothy. That’s extremely thoughtful of you. I must say it sounds like just what I need right now. However, I’m glad you waited. There is something I wish to discuss with you,” she said brusquely, handing her cloak to Alice and going into the sitting room, closing the door after Timothy had followed her inside. She stood before the fireplace, her hands folded quietly in front of her and her face set in lines of resolve. “Tell me more about Lord Dunstan, Timothy. Is he married?”

Her question came as some surprise to Timothy. “No—not any more. He was once, I believe, but something happened and he and his wife parted. I don’t know the details exactly—in fact, I think there are few who do for certain. It all took place at his home—Huntswood, in Sussex. Bit of a mystery, if you ask me—it was all so secretive—but from what I remember of the gossip at the time, I think she ran off with someone else.”

“I see. What else do you know about him?”

“Alistair Dunstan is a very private man, Louisa, who is a regular attender at Westminster, taking his seat in the House of Lords. Apart from attending White’s—where he is often to be found playing cards well into the night, he is not often seen in fashionable society—and when he is it is always at the theatre or some event of Lady Bricknell’s. As you know, he is extremely wealthy—owning a large estate in Sussex and having inherited certain properties here in London from his wife—and by all accounts he is a shrewd man when it comes to investments. He has a finger in several industrial developments, both in England and abroad. He is always reticent about his personal, private affairs.”

“And I can understand why, if his wife preferred being with another man.”

“So tell me, why the curiosity?”

“Because I think I know a way of clearing James’s debt, and it is important to me to know whether or not Lord Dunstan has a wife. It will make all the difference to what I am about to do.”

“May I ask why?”

Louisa faced him steadily, looking so young, so fixed and determined. “I have decided to become Lord Dunstan’s mistress.”

Appalled and alarmed, Timothy stared at her. “What?” he gasped. “Louisa! Have you taken leave of your senses? You cannot be serious about this?”

“I am deadly serious, Timothy,” she replied firmly. “It is not a matter I would jest about.”

“But you can’t. You cannot sell yourself to pay off James’s debts. It—it’s diabolical. It—it’s obscene,” Timothy protested forcefully. “I cannot believe you are saying this—that I am hearing this. You! You and Lord Dunstan!”

Louisa swallowed hard. “Yes. I have to. Timothy, Bierlow is not just my place of birth, it is my life,” she explained. “I have nothing else, don’t you see that? Do you think I have not anguished over this…what I have to do…on the chance I am taking? If James and I are to retain what little we have, then I have no choice—unless you can think of some other way.”

“You know I can’t, Louisa. But if I had the money I would give it to you—you know that.

Louisa smiled, knowing he spoke the truth. As the younger son of a lord with a modest estate in Oxfordshire, Timothy had inherited neither title nor fortune. His position was not unlike James’s, except that unlike James, with his intemperate desire for pleasure, and who seemed to be hell-bent on self-destruction, Timothy knew how to control both his spending and his gambling.

“I know, and thank you, Timothy,” she said. “You’re a good friend—none better—to both James and me. But this is something I am going to have to sort out myself. It’s just a pity James doesn’t feel the same way, instead of drowning himself in liquor and waiting for something to turn up. He’s always been like that. Ever since the death of our parents he has had so many misconceptions about life. The estate—such as it is now that most of the land has been sold and we are left with just the house and the tenant farms—makes demands on us that should, in all fairness, have been seen to before James allowed himself the luxury of pleasure.”

There was sympathy in Timothy’s eyes which told Louisa he understood exactly.

“I have to agree with you there,” he said.

“For a long time now I have lived a spartan existence at Bierlow, making do with just the bare necessities. The estate has never meant as much to James as it does to me,” she said with a trace of sadness. “I know that, and he’s always hated the country. When he did spare the time to visit he would cheer me and promise that everything would soon be all right again—and like a fool I wanted to believe him—but it never was. I love Bierlow, Timothy. It holds so many memories. It’s my home. I can’t see it go. You do understand, don’t you?”

Timothy smiled with understanding. “Of course. But you’ll have to leave one day—when you marry,” he stated gently.

“I know. I understand it can never be mine—not in the way it will be James’s—and I accept that, but I must keep it in the family. James may not appreciate it now, but I am sure he will in time—when he finds the right woman and marries and settles down to have children.”

“James doesn’t realise how lucky he is to have you for a sister. But I cannot let you go ahead with this. I am on your side, first and foremost,” he said soothingly, “and you shouldn’t be worrying about this sort of thing. It is for James to get himself out of this mess. Believe me, Louisa, it’s for your sake I say this. If you go ahead with this crazy idea your reputation will be in shreds in no time at all. You know that, don’t you?”

“Of course, but I do not place my virtue above retaining all that is important and dear to me—to me and to James, even though he doesn’t yet know it. The shame is something I shall have to live with, but what I am about to do countless women have done before,” she said quietly. “No one will know who I am. Lord Dunstan will think of me as Miss Divine. He need never know I am James’s sister. I shall disappear from his life just as soon as I have what I want.”

Timothy frowned, his eyes piercing right through her. “You have seen Lord Dunstan since last night, haven’t you, Louisa?”

“Yes, I have,” she admitted. “At Mr Brewster’s bookshop in Fleet Street when I was there earlier to purchase a book I wanted. We met quite by chance.”

“And he approached you—propositioned you?”

“Yes.”

Timothy’s expression became violent. “Good God! Has the man no scruples?”

“Why should he?” she replied with slight irony. “I was at Lady Bricknell’s party, don’t forget. That alone condemns me in his eyes. It is only natural he would assume I am James’s mistress.”

“Louisa, please don’t do this,” Timothy pleaded. “You don’t know the kind of man Alistair Dunstan is—what you are letting yourself in for.

Louisa paled. “That I could not bear, Timothy. James would never survive it.”

“In my opinion a gentleman is better off dead or humbled than alive and proud at the expense of his sister’s virtue,” he scorned.

“Nevertheless, I have to do this—my mind is made up,” Louisa said in a curiously flat and unemotional voice. “I will be a quiet bedfellow for Lord Dunstan—not a willing one. I think he will soon be more than happy to be rid of me.”

As to that, Timothy very much doubted. Living in isolation, Louisa had no concept of men of Lord Dunstan’s calibre. If she did but know it, her face and figure were her fortune, and he couldn’t think of any man who would willingly part with her having once possessed her—including the formidable Lord Dunstan. His face took on a judicial look.

“And what will you tell James? You will have to tell him, you know. Do you think that for one minute he will agree to this madcap idea?”

“I have no intention of telling him. He mustn’t find out, Timothy. Please—please promise me you will not tell him,” she pleaded.

Timothy’s face was grim. “It seems you leave me with little choice, but I don’t like it, Louisa. James is my friend and there have never been secrets between us. If he should find out about this—and that I was a party to it—it could very well mean the end of our friendship.”

Louisa sighed, looking at his kind face and seeing it was full of concern for her. “I know. I am sorry to place this burden upon you, Timothy. But I do not believe it would come to that. Your friendship means a great deal to James.”

“Have you arranged a meeting with Lord Dunstan?”

“No, but James insists on accepting Lord Dunstan’s invitation and going to Dunstan House on Thursday evening. I shall accompany him, and I would like you to come too, Timothy, to keep an eye on him, just in case he is tempted to play cards and we find another stack of IOUs at the end of the evening.” She sighed deeply. “It will be difficult enough persuading one gentleman to return his IOU—any more would be quite impossible.”

“Yes, I’ll come, but do you think that once you have been with Lord Dunstan, and you have what you want that you will remain untouched, that it will be easy to forget and carry on as if nothing has happened? Because it won’t. You will not be able to leave your demons behind, Louisa, and the harder you run, the harder they will chase you. You are heading straight for your downfall. Not even the craziest gambler would risk this.”

“Then let us be thankful that, for James’s sake and my own, I am not a gambler,” she said, “otherwise nothing would be done.”

She frowned, suddenly thoughtful, thinking of all the painted and gaudily dressed ladies she had seen at Lady Bricknell’s house. “My biggest problem is what to wear. I do not possess any fashionable gowns, and heaven forbid I should be seen wearing the cream one I travelled up from Surrey in—the one I was wearing when I went in search of James last night—which is plain and deplorably out of fashion. All my other dresses are at Bierlow, most of them faded and mended anyway, so they would not do either, and I cannot possibly afford a new one. It is imperative that I make an impression.”

“Perhaps I can help there. My sister Amelia is about your size, I should think, and has more gowns than she knows what to do with. I’ll see what I can do.”

Louisa smiled gratefully. “Oh, Timothy, would she mind?”

He grinned. “No. If I know my woolly-headed sister she’d not even notice their disappearance if I took them without her knowing.”

“Oh, no,” Louisa said quickly, shocked that Timothy might do just that. “You mustn’t do that. You must ask her properly, even though she might refuse.”

In the midst of this grave situation a twinkle came into his eyes. “I think I can answer for my sister. I promise she will be only too pleased to lend you anything you might need. In fact, because of her fondness for James, which never ceases to amaze me considering his unappealing habits,” he said, not unkindly, “she’ll look on it as a pleasure.”

“Thank you,” Louisa said, her expression serious, her eyes troubled as she realised that Timothy had now become her ally as well as her friend. “I want to shine, Timothy. I have to dazzle Lord Dunstan. He has to want me enough to pay me four thousand guineas.”

Louisa’s face was heartbreaking in its hope, causing Timothy to marvel at her spirit. How he wished he could make her change her mind about going ahead with this madcap plan, but he knew her well, knew how stubborn she could be, and how difficult to dissuade once her mind was made up. It seemed to him that she was as blinkered as any carthorse, refusing to see, or even contemplate, anything but a satisfactory outcome to her forthcoming visit to Dunstan House.

“If you insist on going ahead with this ludicrous plan of yours, then we shall see to it that Lord Dunstan is unable to resist you.”

It was with immense relief to Louisa that James returned in sober mood and had no objection to their all going to St James’s Park for the afternoon. In fact, he welcomed the opportunity to get away from the confines of the house, where brooding on his situation would only make it a thousand times worse.

The park was lovely and full of people, some strolling whilst others gathered in clusters to gossip. There were swarms of rosy-cheeked, excited children playing all manner of games, and pretty young girls flirting with young bloods and off-duty soldiers. An abundance of multicoloured flowers in beds and borders added a vivid splash of colour to the park, and the grass, where people lolled about, was like soft green velvet. Fallow deer roamed free and were a constant delight to the children, in particular, who loved to feed them. They were so tame that they took bits of food gently out of their hands.

The three of them watched the soldiers, resplendent in their colourful red and blue uniforms, parading at Horse Guards, which was one of the main attractions of the park during the afternoons. Afterwards Timothy bought some oranges from a hawker, which they ate as they strolled towards the northern boundary of the Mall, where they purchased mugs of fresh warm milk, drawn from the cows tethered in a line to posts.

James continued to be in a morose mood, and, while Timothy tried to coax him out of it, Louisa wandered down to the edge of the lake to watch the ducks swimming and diving on the sparkling surface. Startled when she heard someone call out her name, she looked up and saw Sir Charles Meredith advancing towards her.

Always in the forefront of fashion, and with a high sense of style, he was sporting an extraordinary scarlet three-piece suit, the buttonholes of his coat heavy with gold embroidery. His jabot was frothy and elaborate, his cuffs beautiful, and his white silk hose, rising from diamond-buckled shoes, fitted tightly over well-muscled calves to his knees. He carried a small beaver hat, and, with his bobbed wig, he looked like an exotic tropical bird.

Although they had met only briefly at Bricknell House the evening before, it had been long enough for her to make an assessment and form her own opinion of him, despite Lord Dunstan and James, which was one of dislike; she detected a good deal of craft and guile about the man which she found off-putting.

His eyes roved in arrogant appreciation from her hair to her face, to the slender column of her neck, her shoulders and her breasts. The look she found insolent, causing her indignation to rise, but when he favoured her with such a charming, engaging smile, his teeth flashing white as they caught the sun, she suddenly found it impossible to be rude to him and melted a little, returning his smile. His very look made it plain to her that he desired her unashamedly, and, in her present confused state, she was ready to find comfort in any kind of positive feeling.

“Good Lord! Miss Divine! So it is you,” he enthused as he joined her, bowing with an elaborate flourish and a smile. “What a surprise. You can’t believe what a pleasure it is for me to see you again, and so soon. Who would have thought it?”

“Who indeed!” smiled Louisa.

“My luck’s certainly in. It is fortunate for me that I find you all alone,” he said in a lazy drawl.

“Not quite, Sir Charles,” she said, looking to where James and Timothy stood. They were so heavily engrossed in conversation that, as yet, they were not aware that Sir Charles had approached her.

Sir Charles followed her gaze and scowled, but he quickly ignored them and fixed his gaze on Louisa’s face once more, his countenance restored to good humour. “You look ravishing. Damn me if I can remember when I last saw a prettier face than yours.”

“Oh, I’m sure you can if you try,” Louisa said, her wonderful amber eyes filled with wry amusement, noting that his voice lacked sincerity, and that he spoke with well-regulated practice.

“It is the kind of face that is capable of driving a man to distraction. Ever since I saw you last night, I confess I’ve been thinking about you—a great deal, in fact—and now here you are.”

“I’m sure you’ll soon get over it.” There was no doubt about it, she thought with cynicism, not deceived or beguiled by his easy chatter. He was dazzling, with a lying, flattering tongue in his head.

He raised one languid eyebrow. “You’re having a pleasant stroll, I hope?”

“Yes, thank you. Very pleasant.”

He glanced towards James. “Fraser looks down in the mouth, I see, although the poor chap has a right to be after his rotten luck last night. He lost heavily to Lord Dunstan, I believe.” His gaze settled on her once more, his face lustful, with a certain excitement in his eyes and an air of lecherous anticipation emanating from them. “If it prevents him entertaining you in the manner to which you are accustomed, might I offer my services—? When you can escape his watchful eye, of course. Nothing would please me more.”

“Thank you. I’m flattered. But that won’t be necessary, Sir Charles,” she said, more reluctant than ever to divulge that James was her brother and not her lover, beginning to think the subterfuge accorded her some protection against men like Sir Charles Meredith. “I have not yet grown so tired of him that I would willingly leave him for another. You do understand, I hope?”

“Then he is fortunate. Such devotion is a rarity indeed in our society. But he neglects you, I see. Any man who can neglect such a beautiful creature is a fool.”

“Most men are fools, are they not, Sir Charles?” Louisa countered.

Sir Charles’s eyes focused narrowly on hers. “Ah! You have wit too, I see. I would steal you myself if you were not already spoken for,” he said softly, with a sly smile and a lowering of one heavy eyelid that constituted a wink. “So take care that you do not drive me to distraction, otherwise you will learn how far my desires can carry me—Mr Fraser or no.”

Louisa gave a delicate lift to her brows. “Are you always so persistent, Sir Charles?”

“Always,” he said as he began to accompany her back to where James and Timothy were still deep in conversation. “You think I’m insufferable, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she admitted, unable to prevent a little smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Quite.”

He was not at all disturbed or offended by her honest reply. “Well, I can be quite a charming and delightful chap when you get to know me. I have an appalling reputation, I know, but I would ask you not to listen to gossip, Miss Divine. You shouldn’t believe everything. I’m not ignorant of what’s said about me, and I’m afraid I have been dreadfully maligned.”

She laughed lightly. “Then I’m sorry to put a dampener on your ego, Sir Charles, but until last night, when we met in the doorway at Bricknell House, I had never heard of you before in my life.”

He sighed regretfully. “That’s what comes of spending too much time in the country. It stultifies one’s mind and leads to boredom.”

“Possibly. But you can set your mind at rest,” she said, looking up at him sideways, meaningfully. “I have never been one to listen to gossip—only facts.”

Neither of them saw a group of four people coming towards them: a man, two women, and a young boy. Having just replied to something amusing Sir Charles had said, which had brought a smile to her lips and a sparkle to her eyes, Louisa suddenly noticed their approach, and her smile froze as her gaze became fixed on them.

One of the women, whom she thought to be in her mid-thirties, was handsome and quite tall, her gloved hand placed lightly on the gentleman’s arm. The other woman Louisa saw was much younger, still a girl, in fact, perhaps sixteen or seventeen years old. Her hair was dark and arranged in ringlets which bounced delightfully when she moved her head, and she was extremely pretty, with a vivacity and freshness to her manner. The young boy, who she surmised must be the older woman’s son, sported a shock of dark brown curls and was happily skipping along beside them. But it was the gentleman who caught Louisa’s eyes and held them, for it was Lord Dunstan.

Both parties stopped abruptly, leaving several paces between them, Lord Dunstan’s gaze barely resting on Louisa before sliding to her companion, his eyes so cold she thought they could annihilate a man.

Louisa noticed how the older woman paled and drew in her breath quickly, her hand rising to her throat as her eyes were drawn towards Sir Charles, as if seeing a ghost. Lord Dunstan’s features froze, and taking the woman’s arm, after throwing Louisa a glance which was like a poison dart, he abruptly stepped off the path and began walking away, calling sharply to the boy and the young lady to follow, but not before Louisa had seen his eyes darken with anger and contempt.

She watched them go, noticing how the young woman paused and looked at Sir Charles with surprise, staring at him openly and with all the innocence of her tender years, clearly dazzled for the first time in her life by a supremely handsome man, allowing the corners of her inviting mouth to twitch slightly, and looking curiously exposed as she caught her breath and flushed a bright pink. Her eyes were as big as saucers and held far too much eloquence as she gazed at him wondrously, until she responded to Lord Dunstan’s sharp order and reluctantly tore her eyes from his.

She had looked so startled that Louisa was convinced she could not have uttered a word if her life had depended on it. Casting a sideways glance at Sir Charles, she saw his full pink mouth turn up in one corner in a grin, and beneath his heavy, drooping lids his eyes were filled with amusement and idle speculation as he watched her hurry away.

Filled with confusion by Lord Dunstan’s show of rudeness, Louisa was puzzled by his behaviour and that of the older woman, but recalling the intense dislike Lord Dunstan so clearly felt for Sir Charles, which he had made evident on both occasions she had met him, she thought he must have good reason to cut him in public so deliberately. However, she thought, with some regret, considering what she had in mind where Lord Dunstan was concerned, it was unfortunate that he had seen her with Sir Charles Meredith; no doubt it would not help her cause and he would draw his own conclusions and be reluctant to have anything to do with her, despite what he had said to her at Mr Brewster’s bookshop.

In an attempt to dispel the coldness that the brief encounter with Lord Dunstan had caused her, Louisa smiled up at Sir Charles, beginning to walk on. He fell into step beside her.

“I saw the way the young lady looked at you, Sir Charles, which you must have observed for yourself. It would seem you have an admirer, and I suspect it amuses you to have a flirtatious exchange with such an innocent young girl.” She spoke lightly, an innocent herself, unprepared for Sir Charles’s reply, which her untutored mind regarded as obscene.

“I agree she is extremely pretty—and ripe for more than a mere glance. The crux of the matter is, though, that she is Dunstan’s sister, and, as you will have observed for yourself, he and I are not the best of friends. However, it is such a waste to keep that appealing little virgin tucked away at his home in Sussex.”

Louisa stared at him, shocked that he should exhibit such an unrestrained interest in such a young girl. “If she is to remain in that condition, then in my opinion I think it best that she remains there, Sir Charles,” she chided, “under her brother’s watchful eye and away from the rakes and debauchees of London—away from such destructive, immoral influences as yourself, for it is clear to me that her innocence and naivety only adds to her attraction in your eyes.”

He laughed lightly, a lewd, lascivious gleam in his eyes. “You are right, I admit it. The sight of so much innocence excites me—makes me imagine those pleasures and sensations, such as Miss Dunstan can never have experienced, being aroused by me. I find the aura of pure virginity combined with youth and beauty irresistible. And the seemingly unobtainable is always the most desirable to me, my dear Miss Divine—as is the case with yourself,” he said huskily as his eyes devoured her soft lips.

“But if I wanted to sample the innocent delights of the adorable Miss Dunstan I would not be put off by her brother,” he went on. “No, indeed I would not,” he said without preamble, quietly, firmly and convincingly, his eyes following the retreating figure of the alluring young woman, who turned her head briefly to look back once more.

There was a hard gleam in his eyes, his gaze speculative and predatory as he watched her disappear amongst a group of trees, along with the other members of her group. His words caused Louisa to swallow down a sudden rush of revulsion. She observed the way his eyes followed the young woman, and it troubled her and created a feeling of unease. It was an incident she was to recall at a later date, but for now she put it out of her mind. Quickening her stride, for she was suddenly eager to be done with his company, she drew a shaky breath.

“What on earth have you done, Sir Charles, that makes Lord Dunstan scowl at you so whenever the two of you meet?”

Louisa noted that suddenly he was no longer his usual, smiling, convivial self, that a seriousness had descended on him as he fixed his unreadable gaze straight ahead.

“He bears me a personal grudge—and it is I who should be doing the scowling, Miss Divine. I am guilty of nothing where that gentleman is concerned. Any wrongdoing was done by him, not by me.”

“Why? What on earth has he done that is so dreadful?”

His face became grim, his eyes hard, and there was something so terrible in their fixed, unnatural brightness that Louisa felt her throat tighten. He spoke slowly, quietly and deliberately, each word enunciated.

“He cheated me out of the woman I was to have married.”

“Oh! Then should it not be you who bears the grudge, Sir Charles?”

He grimaced, seeming not to hear her as he became immersed in some unpleasant thought. His lips compressed and his gloved fingers closed on the brim of his hat, crushing the edge, leaving Louisa in no doubt as to the depth of hatred that existed between himself and Lord Dunstan.

“I-In what way did he cheat you?” Louisa asked nervously, for Sir Charles Meredith no longer resembled the man of a few moments before, all trace of the charming rake he portrayed to the world having vanished. The expression in his eyes had become ugly, his features contorted almost beyond recognition. The expression was fleeting and soon passed, but it left Louisa with a sinking feeling and a sense of regret that she had unwittingly prodded a wound that was still raw, seeping and extremely painful for both men.

“He married her himself when my back was turned—when I was unable to do anything about it. But it backfired on him miserably, which was no more than he deserved,” he uttered fiercely. “However, it is all a long time ago and in the past.”

“But not forgotten by either of you, it would seem?”

“No, indeed. He did me a grave injustice and the day will come when I shall pay the almighty Alistair Dunstan back in full for what he did to me, Miss Divine. Some day,” he whispered, with an undertone of such savage force that Louisa fought a shiver of fear. “You’ll see.”

Louisa’s curiosity was sharpened and she wanted to know more—there was so much he had not told her, but she was not to learn anything further about what had occurred between Sir Charles and Lord Dunstan, for at that moment James and Timothy, displeased to see her talking to Sir Charles, came to reclaim her.

Trembling but managing a smile, shaken by the brief insight Sir Charles had given her into the feud that existed between himself and Lord Dunstan, an insight that left her feeling decidedly uneasy, she watched as he politely and abruptly excused himself to Timothy and James. Her brother was coldly contemptuous of the man’s frank admiration of her. “I do not like that man, Louisa,” James muttered, scowling at Sir Charles’s receding figure as he swaggered away. “You will do well to steer clear of him in the future.”

“Yes, I intend to,” she replied absently, a memory of the cold, savage look of vengeance she had seen in Sir Charles’s eyes flickering in her mind. Their conversation had left her with a feeling of oppression and horror, and she experienced a certain surprise at his severe accusation against Lord Dunstan. Was it true? she asked herself. Had Lord Dunstan married the woman Sir Charles would have married himself? If this was the case, then surely the lady concerned would not have married Lord Dunstan had she not preferred him to Sir Charles?

But Sir Charles had revealed that the marriage had gone miserably wrong for Lord Dunstan, and with that she could only conclude—as Timothy had suggested—that it had broken down and his wife had left him for someone else. She tried to envisage what both Lord Dunstan and Sir Charles must have suffered, and yet she had a distinct feeling that Lord Dunstan’s suffering had been the greatest. She did not know enough of what had transpired between them, nor did she know either of them well enough to defend one’s conduct against the other, but having just had an insight into Sir Charles’s character, which seemed to have a tendency to evil, she had no wish to know more.

His manner, his way of speaking and his countenance she found repugnant in every degree. It had been enough to tell her that he did not possess any of the virtues that constituted a gentleman, and that he had many years of idleness and vice to atone for.

James moped about the house in a state of deep depression as Louisa began preparing herself for the unpleasant occasion of dining at Dunstan House. She managed to persuade him to put off fetching the deeds to his estate from Surrey and presenting them to Lord Dunstan to pay off his debt until the following week, in order to give her time to retrieve his IOU.

She reminded herself that if what Timothy had said was true—that Lord Dunstan attracted women like a magnet—then after her sharp rebuff at Mr Brewster’s bookshop, and seeing her with Sir Charles Meredith in St James’s Park, he might be angry and no longer interested in her.

For her plan to succeed she must make him want her—want her to such an extent that he would be prepared to agree to her terms to possess her. And as the time drew near for her to ready herself for the evening in front of her—perhaps the most important evening of her life—apprehension began to give way to panic.

She was undecided about which gown to wear, for Timothy had presented her with three to choose from, as well as several items of undergarment, telling her that his sister had been only too delighted to be of help.

He had told Amelia that Louisa had arrived in London having absent-mindedly left her finest dresses behind in Surrey, and was mortified, on finding herself invited to an important event, to discover she had nothing to wear and unwilling to go to the expense of buying something new. Amelia had been only too happy to loan her some gowns.

Louisa finally settled for one of deep crimson satin, by far the most alluring of the three. Its vivid colour and low-cut décolletage would be more in keeping with the occasion and the people she would be mixing with than the other two, which were in pastel shades and rather modest in design. She declined the wearing of even the smallest hoop to lift the dress, preferring instead to let the skirt fall softly from the waist.

At first she had balked at the thought of accepting the clothes, but realising she had no choice, if she wished to succeed with Lord Dunstan, and that she was in no position to turn charity away, she began to dress, feeling as she did so her last remnants of pride melt like the morning mist beneath the sun.

To add to the part, but without too much artifice, she applied just a little powder to her cheeks and a little salve to her lips, and, with skilful fingers, Alice helped her arrange her newly washed hair in an elaborate creation of glossy waves and curls, with three heavy ringlets dangling at the back, one of them resting on her bare shoulder.

When she was ready she surveyed her appearance in the full-length mirror and saw her radiance reflected. She barely recognised herself, feeling transformed by the gown’s magnificence, and experiencing a sensuous pleasure in its satin softness. She flushed at her image. The gown, with its elbow-length sleeves, was bold and quite dramatic and extremely daring, its firm-fitting bodice cut low, and the fullness of the skirt emphasising her tiny waist and falling in luxurious shining folds to her slippered feet. She suspected it had not belonged to Timothy’s quiet, sheltered sister at all but to another, more worldly lady of his acquaintance, of whom she would prefer to remain in ignorance. However, she would for ever hold the lady in her debt if she managed to succeed in seducing Lord Dunstan.

It was certainly not the type of gown she would normally have chosen to wear, she thought, sighing as she turned from the full-length mirror, but if she was to play a harlot she might as well look the part.

They were to travel to Dunstan House in Timothy’s carriage and on being told by Alice of its arrival she took a deep breath and left her room, her skirts sweeping the stairs as she went down. She saw both her brother and Timothy waiting for her in the hall and was fully aware of the impact her appearance would have on them. With Alice’s help she had been transformed from the pretty little country girl her brother had never troubled to look at into a striking young woman it would be difficult for anyone to keep their eyes off.

When James and Timothy saw her their eyes opened wide in sheer amazement—Timothy’s with undisguised appraisal and James’s with shocked disapproval. He was unable to believe that the beautiful, sophisticated creature descending the stairs—showing enough of her bosom as to be positively indecent, and smiling only as one of London’s social butterflies knew how to—was his sister.

“Dear Lord, Louisa!” he objected crossly. “That is hardly a suitable gown for you to wear—and I dare hardly ask where you acquired it.”

“Then I wouldn’t, if I were you—in fact,” she quipped, throwing Timothy a knowing smile of gratitude from beneath her lowered lashes, “I’m not entirely sure where it came from either, nor do I wish to know. However, if an evening at Dunstan House is to be anything like an evening at Lady Bricknell’s, then I would say it is perfect for the occasion.” She faced Timothy, making him a sweeping curtsy. “What do you think, Timothy? Will I do?”

Timothy’s brown eyes were twinkling. “You’ll do all right, Louisa. You look ravishing,” he assured her emphatically.

“Well, if you insist on accompanying Timothy and I,” said James sullenly, “you must be introduced as my sister. I cannot permit you to go on calling yourself Miss Divine. It’s quite ridiculous.”

Louisa gave him a cross look, in no mood to be bullied tonight of all nights. “Ridiculous or not, that is who I am to be if I am to enter the sort of company you keep. We will look foolish if you suddenly announce me as your sister, when only two nights ago I was someone else. And, anyway, I am not accompanying you by choice, James. I am merely coming along to make quite sure you do not dig us deeper into debt than we are already. If I see you so much as look at a card or dice table, I shall personally intervene and embarrass you to such a degree that you will not dare set foot in polite society ever again. Now, are we ready?” she said, pulling on her long gloves with a brusqueness that brooked no argument. “We don’t want to be late.”

With a few quiet grumbles James followed Timothy and his sister out to the waiting carriage. Louisa climbed inside, about to embark on a mission as dramatic and fateful as any she had undertaken before or would ever do again.

Seated across from Louisa, Timothy glanced at her, seeing that she appeared cool and collected and well schooled for what lay ahead of her, but behind her composed mask of elegance he sensed the fissures that lay deep.

Ever since Louisa had left Lord Dunstan at Mr Brewster’s bookshop, and after seeing him again in St James’s Park, she had tried not to focus her mind on him, but now she was within minutes of facing him once more her panic increased and she could hardly believe what she was about to do. His name spun through her mind with a combination of loathing and dread, and she told herself she would rather sleep with the devil than Lord Dunstan.

And yet the feelings she had experienced on the three occasions when they had met on her coming to London this time took some understanding; she had felt herself being drawn to him against her will by the compelling magnetism he seemed to radiate, and the memory of his smile and how he had looked at her, how his incredibly blue eyes had hardly left hers for a moment and the intimacy of his lazy gaze, made her tremble and heat course through her body.

She was experiencing a great deal of nervousness at the disagreeable prospect of meeting him again, and as the carriage arrived at Dunstan House nothing could calm her mounting tension. Dunstan House was one of several fine mansions in Piccadilly. Backing onto Green Park, it was set in formal flower gardens, the high walls keeping the rumble of wheels and street cries at bay.

With James in front of them Timothy took Louisa’s hand, feeling her fingers tremble. Passing through the doorway, they made their entry into the gilded interior. He bent close to her ear. “You look lovely,” he whispered reassuringly. “Are you still determined to go through with this—even though James is bound to find out? And don’t forget that anything connected with Lord Dunstan becomes instant gossip and spreads like wildfire. If you succeed, and when it’s discovered you are James’s sister, you will become the focus of a scandal. Can you cope with that?”

“I have had four years of learning to cope, Timothy,” she replied with bitter irony. “Having to deal with relentless adversity has made me strong and taught me to hold my head high. I shall not let a scandal worry me unduly if I can hold onto Bierlow Hall.”

She cast an eye over the assembled groups, knowing Lord Dunstan was present but unable to see him just then—and the prospect of seeing him, extremely conscious of the purpose of her being there, set her treacherous pulses racing. With a natural grace and a serene smile on her lips, she felt an odd sensation of unreality.

As they entered further into the large, extremely grand and impressive marble hallway, with huge polished doors opening into sumptuously furnished rooms beyond, the sheer magnitude and beauty of the house seemed overwhelming and utterly breathtaking. It shone with the brilliance of hundreds of candles. Mirrors glowed with refracted light from the crystal and diamonds strewn around the bare throats of women. An army of exquisitely attired footmen in scarlet and gold moved among the guests, bearing silver trays balancing sparkling glasses of champagne.

Breathing deeply and glancing at the assembled guests, Louisa suddenly found herself the object of dozens of pairs of eyes. It was as though she stood in a blazing light as everyone seemed to turn towards her. Every male and female, young and old, seemed to focus on her, some staring frankly while others looked at her with unconcealed curiosity. Many of the gentlemen looked with open admiration, and several of the ladies with barely concealed hostility, having already seen her at Lady Bricknell’s house two evenings earlier and perceiving her as the first really serious competition in months.

To Louisa the company appeared to be very much the same as it had been at Bricknell House. There was a sense of glamour about the gathering, yet it seemed more subdued somehow, rather than a rout. But no doubt at some time later in the evening, when the liquor reached their heads and loosened any inhibitions they might possess, the guests would sit down to cards, by which time Louisa hoped she would have accomplished her purpose and they could leave.

Suddenly her smile froze on her lips and she became oblivious to all else as her gaze became locked on a pair of exceptionally vivid blue eyes across the hall. Lord Dunstan was just emerging from a room with Lady Bricknell by his side. Without taking his eyes off Louisa, he murmured something to his companion, who followed his gaze and seemed to smile knowingly and with a good deal of satisfaction, before drifting from his side to speak to someone else—and Louisa would have been astonished to learn that Lady Bricknell’s invitations to James and Timothy to attend her supper and card parties, in the hope that eventually Louisa would appear, had borne fruit at last.

With a growing sense of alarm and a general feeling of unease, Louisa watched Lord Dunstan start towards them with long, purposeful strides, seeming to grow larger as he neared, his eyes compelling. His black suit was immaculate and without a crease in the fabric stretched across his strong shoulders, his cravat and white silk stockings dazzling white. His presence was inescapable. He overshadowed the room and his guests parted to let him pass, his eyes searching Louisa’s face, his expression one of slight amusement and something which, to Louisa’s indignation, looked very much like triumph.

Her flesh grew hot and a tremor passed through her now she was face to face with him once more. A smile of frank admiration gleamed in his eyes when he looked at her, his sternly handsome face stamped with nobility and pride, his powerful, muscular body emanating raw power and sensuality. At any other time, had any other man looked at her in the manner Lord Dunstan looked at her, she would have been extremely insulted and been tempted to slap his face. But, remembering the farce she was to play out to the bitter end, she swallowed her pride and gave him a ravishing smile, lighting her eyes with intelligence.

“I’m so glad you could come, Mr Fraser—Mr Hacket,” Alistair said, and when he spoke the sheer, concentrated power of his presence was vividly apparent. His greeting embraced all three, but his gaze rested on Louisa. “And you, too, Miss Divine,” he murmured, fascinated by her, noticing how her face captured and absorbed the soft glow of the candles.

There was a serenity of expression and stillness that hung about her like an aura, and seeing her again was an experience he had not sufficiently prepared himself for. She was beautiful, far more beautiful than any woman present, and she intrigued him, troubled him, and his instinct told him that hidden desires were at play beneath the thin layer of respectability. She was still yet watchful amidst the hive of gossip, her face settled in cool, unblinking remoteness, which distinctly whispered “Don’t touch’.

“Is it your intention to exact revenge later, Fraser—to recoup what you lost to me two nights ago?”

Unhappy and pale, James managed to smile, but there was no disguising his anxiety as he cast a swift glance at his sister, licking his lips nervously and saying, as if prompted, which did not go unnoticed by Alistair, “No, not this evening, Lord Dunstan. Tonight I intend to refrain from any form of gambling. I shall be a passive observer, nothing more.”

Lord Dunstan nodded slightly, not really surprised. If the man was as impoverished as he suspected then he could ill afford to run up any more debts. He had met a lot of men like James Fraser—reckless young fools, prepared to risk everything over a game of cards or the throw of a dice. “Very wise, sir. Very wise.”

“You—you have a beautiful house, Lord Dunstan,” remarked Louisa in an attempt to draw the conversation away from gambling.

He shifted his gaze back to her. She had the look of a girl, but he felt she was a woman in every sense of that meaningful word, and yet she seemed incredibly unsoiled. She possessed a poise and dignity that was absent in most of the women present, and she was sexually elegant and extremely desirable in her crimson dress, bearing no resemblance to the rather prim young woman he had encountered in St Paul’s Church two months earlier and more recently at Mr Brewster’s bookshop.

The moment he had looked into her eyes she had assaulted his senses and he had become determined to possess her. But who was she, he wondered, and why hadn’t he seen her before if she was Fraser’s mistress? And was she as unfamiliar to Charles Meredith as she would have him believe? After seeing them together in St James’s Park, he was beginning to doubt it.

“Thank you. It would give me great pleasure to show you around later—if you like.”

“Why—yes. I’d love to,” she replied.

He left to greet more of his guests who continued to arrive, but Louisa had the impression that his attention never left her.

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