Secret Lessons With The Rake
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Wilson shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t know about that, miss. I just knows he sent me to warn you that he expects the new amount to be paid when next it’s due, lessen he take steps to get you evicted.’
Anger coloured her distress. ‘I’m quite certain that your employer has no legal right to arbitrarily increase the rent.’
‘I suppose you could talk to him, but dunno he’d change his mind. I know the bailiffs won’t listen, if he sets them to throwing you out. Happen it be better if you just pay the increase, like he says.’
‘Happen he is trying to coerce me into paying something I don’t owe,’ she snapped back angrily. The lease didn’t allow for an interim increase—did it? Surely she would have noticed if the landlord were allowed to make such an adjustment.
‘Wouldn’t risk it, were it me, ma’am. Lettin’ all them girls get put out into the street, with no place to go? Up to you, though.’
How could she determine for sure whether or not the threat was genuine? How could she keep the school going, if she had to pay so much higher a rent in addition to all the other bills?
Worry might be tightening her chest, but she didn’t intend for this vile little man to glimpse her agitation. Schooling her face to calm, she rose in dismissal. ‘Very well, you’ve delivered your message. You may tell your employer that I have no intention of increasing my payment, and I very much resent his attempt to extort a higher sum from me. Good day, sir.’
A little smirk on his face, as if he knew she was bluffing, Wilson said, ‘I’d think Mr Anderson’s warning over careful. Hard life for them girls, out on the street.’
With that parting shot, he ambled out.
As if she didn’t know just how hard such a life was, she thought, sinking back into her chair. Opening the bottom desk drawer, she rifled through until she found the copy of her lease.
Full of excitement at beginning the project so dear to her, she’d not paid much attention to the lengthy list of terms and conditions. She scanned it now, trying to make sense out of the stylised legal phrasing.
So absorbed was she in trying to decode the document, she only nodded distractedly when Jensen announced she had a visitor. Until a large masculine hand that did not belong to Jensen planted itself beside hers on the desk.
She looked up then, to see Christopher Lattimar smiling down at her. She sucked in a breath, surprise—and a heated awareness—making her nerves tingle.
‘I might expect such rapt attention being given to a racy novel,’ he said, ‘but some dull legal document?’ Then, as he gazed at her, the teasing smile faded. ‘Something is troubling you, Ellie. What is it? And how can I help?’
There seemed little point in denying she was upset. ‘Yes, I am...disturbed,’ she admitted. ‘But it’s nothing that should concern you. How delightful to see you again! Will you take some tea? And what can I do for you?’
‘I would love some tea,’ he replied, taking the chair she indicated. ‘And nothing in particular. Your enthusiasm when you described your school for Mama made me curious to see it, that’s all. But I do wish you would tell me what’s wrong. Something about that document, I’m guessing?’
As she walked past him to summon Jensen to fetch tea, she debated whether or not to reveal the situation. On the one hand, her problems had nothing to do with him. But on the other, he was a friend, and maybe could offer some advice. She could certainly use some!
‘It’s the lease on the school, Christopher,’ she said as she resumed her seat. ‘My landlord’s agent just stopped by to inform me that my rent is being raised a very considerable degree.’ Uncomfortably aware of the other bills tucked inside the desk, she continued, ‘I don’t think the lease allows it, but I must admit, I’m not sure.’
He took the document from her and scanned it, frowning. ‘Although I work every day crafting legislation, my expertise doesn’t extend to agreements about property,’ he said, handing it back. ‘I agree that the provision on changes doesn’t seem to provide for an increase, but the wording is so vague, but I can’t be sure, either. You ought to get a solicitor’s opinion.’
‘And how much would that cost? Probably more than the increase in rent, which is doubtless what the landlord is counting on!’
The maid of all work came in then, struggling under the weight of a heavy tea tray. Christopher rose and took it from her, setting it down on the desk. ‘Allow me—’
‘Sally,’ she inserted bashfully.
‘Sally. Wouldn’t want such a pretty lady to hurt her back.’
‘Oh, no, sir, I wouldn’t never!’ she breathed, standing motionless as she stared up, wide-eyed, into Christopher’s handsome face.
‘That will be all, Sally,’ Ellie said drily, amused to observe Christopher’s effect on the little maid. Not that she could blame the girl, she thought, suppressing a sigh. Gazing into those turquoise eyes had the same paralysing effect on her, which was why she generally avoided looking directly at him.
‘Yes, miss,’ the girl said, flushing. Dropping a curtsy, she hurried back out.
After several moments spent pouring tea and passing cups, he said, ‘Now, where were we? Discussing a problem with the lease, I think.’
She grimaced. ‘And the fact that, whether I pay the increase demanded or consult a solicitor, it’s going to cost me a good deal of blunt I can ill afford. Or I can ignore it, hope my reading of the text is correct, and trust that Mr Anderson won’t set the bailiffs to tossing my girls into the street.’
Christopher frowned. ‘He threatened that? How...unhandsome of him!’
‘Unhandsome indeed! But it might be a moot point. If I keep incurring so many unexpected expenses, I may be forced to close the school a-anyway,’ she finished, her voice trembling as she confessed her deepest fear—for without the school, what purpose, what future was there for her?
‘We can’t let a shortage of funding affect your enterprise!’ he said bracingly. ‘Why don’t you consult my solicitor? He’s already on retainer. I’d be happy to escort you there.’
She hesitated, grateful, but unwilling to put herself under such an obligation. ‘That’s very generous. But I must warn you, I’m not sure when I’ll be able to pay you back. Lord Witlow set up a generous endowment, which I find I’m having to spend much too quickly, and I hate to approach Lady Maggie, when she’s already been so free with her time and support.’
‘Don’t worry over the repayment,’ Christopher said, with a dismissive wave. ‘Your backers believe in the school, and are committed to its success. They will invest whatever additional amounts are needed—and there’s always my mother. As you may recall, she’s waiting to be touched for a contribution.’
His words were heartening, but she wasn’t sure she dared believe them. ‘I wanted to do this myself, mostly from my own resources. I didn’t want to become a charge on anyone else.’
‘You’re not a charge, and you don’t have to do it alone.’ Leaning closer, he put his hand over hers. ‘You have friends, Ellie. It’s their pleasure to help you—as it was yours, to help Ben Tawny.’
Her composure shaken by the threat to the school, worry over finances and a vague but deep-seated fear for her future, it took only that small gesture to immobilise her completely. She didn’t seem able to move her hand from under the comforting clasp of his fingers. And as she gazed up at him, comfort turned to something more.
With her control so tattered, she was helpless to resist the force of the attraction sweeping over her. Wonder about what it would feel like to have his lips on hers submerged every other thought. An urge seized her to claim just one kiss from this man she admired, a man who cared about her, a man she trusted. Because, for once in her life, she wanted that intimacy as much as his molten gaze told her Christopher did.
His gaze never leaving hers, he leaned closer. Her pulse accelerated like a horse spurred to a gallop, while heat from deep within spiralled outward in melting waves of sensation. A powerful urgency unlike anything she’d ever experienced coiled within, seeming to press her towards...something.
But as she sat motionless, chin raised, awaiting the contact of his mouth, he suddenly stopped. Dragging in a ragged breath, he moved away from her. She took a gulp of air herself, unaware until that moment that she’d been holding her breath.
‘As I said, you have friends, Ellie,’ he repeated, a slight tremor in his voice. ‘I hope I may count myself among them. If it’s convenient for you to visit the solicitor now, I would be pleased to escort you, so you might clear up the question about the lease without delay.’
Squelching an irrational disappointment at being robbed of his touch, she told herself she should rather feel relief. Succumbing to that kiss would threaten the friendly camaraderie they’d always shared. It was disconcerting enough to discover just how powerful a physical hold he could exert when her guard was down. How urgently she’d wanted him to act upon the attraction between them.
And that wouldn’t do at all. Having set his sights on finding a proper young maiden to marry, Christopher didn’t need to be distracted by her. She mustn’t tempt him—or herself—into a relationship that would be wrong for them both.
But oh, how delicious it could be, her senses argued.
Shutting her ears to that insidious voice, she focused on his offer. ‘If you are certain I wouldn’t be imposing, I could leave as soon as I give Mrs Sanders her instructions. I would prefer to discover at once whether or not I must pay the increased rent.’
‘Then instruct away while I finish my tea.’
Chapter Three
Two hours later, Christopher assisted Ellie down the narrow stairs from Mr Worthington’s office, trying not to notice the sizzle sparking from her fingers to his arm, despite the layers of gloves, shirt, and jacket.
He had to ignore it—ignore her allure in general. There was no way he could fulfil his pledge to his mother and keep watch over Ellie without spending time with her. Besides, he enjoyed spending time with her. He’d derived a good deal of satisfaction from having been able to help her today. Somehow, he was going to have to focus only on the warm camaraderie of their friendship—and avoid a repetition of what had almost happened in her office.
His visit to the school was the first time they’d been alone together since Summerville’s death. Doubtless, knowing on some subconscious level that there was no longer any impediment to keep him from acting on his attraction, the desire to kiss her had overcome him before common sense could restrain it. At least he’d retained enough wits to draw back. Forewarned now, he’d be more careful in future.
Still, he was uncomfortably aware both of the strength of that desire and how quickly it had overwhelmed him—in spite of his resolve to focus on finding an innocent maid to marry. Persuading his intellect to follow that wise course was one thing. It appeared that retraining his automatic reactions would be a good deal harder.
He’d just have to manage it. Because if he could not keep himself from succumbing to temptation, he’d have to give Ellie up. And he had no desire to end their friendship until or unless he must.
As they reached the bottom of the stairs, he said, ‘Do you feel better, having Worthington confirm that your lease doesn’t permit raising the rent?’
‘I do indeed! I also very much appreciate his offer to send my landlord a letter to that effect. Although, as he suggested, I think it likely Mr Anderson is well aware of the law, and simply thought he could frighten a lone, unprotected woman into paying an additional sum.’
‘A letter from the solicitor will let him know you can’t be victimised in such a manner. You’re neither alone nor unprotected. I would be quite happy to call on Mr Anderson myself and reinforce that truth.’
‘Hopefully that won’t be necessary.’
‘But you promise to let me know if the man, or his agent, give you any more trouble? Truly, it wouldn’t be an imposition. Helping friends is a pleasure.’
As her gaze jerked up towards his, he regretted a choice of words that recalled that moment in her office, reminding them both how much more of a pleasure it had almost been. His body tightened and sweat broke out on his brow as attraction sizzled between them again.
Ellie pulled her gaze free first, shaking her head a little, as if to dispel the enchantment. After preceding him into the street, she waited until he’d reached the pavement beside her to say, ‘I’ll thank you once more, and send you on your way.’
‘I can see you home,’ he offered, not wanting to end his time in her company. Besides, he needed more practice if he was going to master the trick of ignoring the sensual pull between them.
‘That’s kind, but before going home, I need to purchase cloth to make gowns for some of the girls. With the Season soon to begin, the dressmakers and linen drapers are going to be mobbed with customers placing orders. I’d like to obtain what I need before they get too busy to bother with my modest requirements. I wouldn’t want to bore you with such a mundane errand.’
‘I wouldn’t be bored. I’ve often advised ladies on clothing purchases.’
Your mother and sisters—or the women you’ve had in keeping? her enquiring look said.
‘Mama says I have excellent taste,’ he added loftily, and had the satisfaction of seeing her blush.
Looking tempted, as if she too were reluctant to end their interlude, she said, ‘You’re sure I wouldn’t be imposing? I have to admit, it is more...agreeable to walk with an escort. Thereby eliminating most of the blatant looks and rude remarks I would otherwise receive.’
‘I shall happily shield you from both. Although you must allow—and I protest in advance, this isn’t gallantry, merely simple truth—when a lady as lovely as you are walks down the street, men will look at her. Having an escort just makes them think twice about approaching.’
‘Then I thank you for guarding the approaches.’
Realising how perfect a conversational opening that gave him, he said, ‘Are there any other approaches that need guarding? I don’t mean to pry, but Mama is concerned about you, living alone now without protection. She worries that you may be...harassed by gentlemen who refuse to be dissuaded from pursuing you.’ A fear he had to admit he shared.
Her delay in responding and the little frown that flitted across her forehead told him that concern was justified. His protective instincts fully roused, he said quickly, ‘Who is it? Tell me, and I’ll warn them away.’
She shook her head. ‘I’m not really troubled by anyone. There have been...enquiries that I’ve turned away with the polite but firm response that I do not intend to accept any offer. Once they discover that I am not trying to pit one against the other in order to drive up the price, I expect they will desist. There are far too many lovely and willing women in London to persist in pursuing one who is not.’
Once a man set his sights on Ellie, he’d be tough to dissuade, Christopher thought. Trying to decide whether he should press harder, or respect her reticence to name names, he said, ‘I hope that is another matter you would bring to my attention, should anyone begin to “trouble” you in truth.’
‘That’s kind of you, Christopher,’ she said, her eyes brightening before the glow faded and she sighed. ‘But I really mustn’t rely on you. I have no right to lay such claims, and as we both know, you need to turn your attentions in a different direction.’
Though that statement only echoed what he’d just been telling himself, he found himself driven to refute it. ‘That may be true, but I have no intention of abandoning my friends. Besides, you’ll be doing me a favour. Should someone try to harass you and I fail to prevent it, my mother would harass me for months.’
That earned him a chuckle, as he’d hoped. ‘Very well, you may accompany me and apply your discerning taste to the choosing of material appropriate for the gowns of apprentice housemaids and seamstresses.’
Chuckling himself, he set off to procure them a hackney. During the transit to Burlington Arcade, he kept up a flow of light banter, pairing together such a ridiculous assortment of buttons with cloth and trimmings with fabrics that he kept Ellie laughing for the length of the transit—earning the satisfaction of seeing the worry fade from her face and the tension ease from her shoulders.
How it delighted him to see her looking more carefree!
A short time later, the hackney set them down and they proceeded past the beadle into the covered shopping street. An array of tempting shops awaited, from jewellers and hatters to dressmakers and dry goods’ dealers. As Ellie had predicted, the walkway was thronged with fashionable ladies, some with wide-eyed maidens in tow, doubtless preparing themselves for the sartorial demands of the upcoming Season. Weaving in and out among them, Ellie proceeded to a linen draper’s shop, Christopher following behind.
They were lucky enough to find one clerk free, though his enthusiasm muted when Ellie waved away the sumptuous fabrics he brought forward and stated her need for simple, unadorned material. After ushering them to the back of the shop, he left them alone to debate the merits of various plain cottons and woollens.
‘I’m quite impressed,’ she told him after she’d made her selection. ‘Although I expected you might have some expertise about the expensive fabrics your mama—or your ladybirds—choose for gowns, I’m surprised you had useful advice about cloth appropriate for servants.’
‘Mama prefers not to delegate the task of acquiring the female staff’s annual allotment of cloth to the housekeeper. Believing it wise to acquaint a son who wouldn’t inherit the wealth of the Vraux estate with the expenses involved in maintaining a household, she’s been dragging me along on those expeditions since I was a boy. Although the sinecures I’ve obtained since joining Parliament give me greater financial security than she anticipated, I’m still grateful for that training.’
‘I wish someone had done as much for me,’ Ellie said ruefully. ‘I’m continually surprised by a variety of expenses I hadn’t anticipated.’
And why had no one ever trained her? he wondered. As Summerville’s mistress, all bills for her household would have been sent to her protector. Was it because she was some peer’s base-born daughter? Blood kin but not family, with no aristocratic mother to give her the instruction in household management she would have received had a conventional marriage been anticipated?
‘Ask my mother. I’m sure she’d be happy to offer advice. Though, despite what Society may think, she’s really a canny household manager.’ As she’d needed to be, with her husband uninterested in any household purchases beyond those for his art collections.
After she’d paid for the material, he collected the paper-wrapped parcel and escorted her out. ‘Back to Hans Place now, or have you other errands to run?’
‘If you can endure one more shop, I need stiffening to line bonnets,’ she said. ‘The place across the way should have what is necessary. I promise to reward you with tea, or something stronger, when we finally reach Hans Place.’
The image of the reward he’d truly enjoy sprang to mind. Clearly, he thought with a sigh as he suppressed it, if he meant to court an innocent, he was going to have to work harder to divert the automatic direction of his thoughts. Or was it only because he was in the presence of a beautiful courtesan that he couldn’t keep his mind from veering towards pleasure?
Former courtesan, he rebuked himself before replying, ‘I’m amenable to one more stop, and a glass of brandy afterward would be quite welcome.’
‘Thank you,’ she said as she led him back into the throng crowding the Bazaar. Stopping before a shop that displayed an array of bonnets, she said, ‘You may not realise this, but I wouldn’t have been given such prompt or courteous treatment in that last shop, had you not accompanied me. Like most of the merchants hereabouts, he knew me as Summerville’s mistress—and knows that since I’m no longer in keeping, I’m unlikely to provide him with such lucrative custom in future. But a man’s wishes always command attention—even if it’s just the purchase of a few yards of cotton.’
‘Then you must include me on all your errands.’
She laughed. ‘Fortunately for you, I’m too sensible to hold you to that offer!’
Though he had thrown out the remark to amuse her, he found it wasn’t really such an exaggeration. With his Parliamentary duties now in a lull, he’d be quite happy to accompany Ellie, enjoying the simple pleasure of her loveliness...titillated by the simmer of desire being near her evoked.
It was certainly a more enjoyable way to spend his time than facing the daunting task of charming some Virtuous Virgin, a species about which he knew almost nothing.
They entered the bonnet shop, Ellie skirting around several clusters of patrons to reach the rack at the back that held hat-making supplies. Then, abruptly, she halted. Her breath escaping in a gasp, she stared towards the opposite corner of the shop, colour draining from her face.
Following the direction of her gaze, he took in a stylishly dressed matron who’d frozen in the process of tying the ribbons of a bonnet beneath the chin of a young lady who must be her daughter—and caught his breath as well.
Hell and damnation! The girl looked like Ellie—or a paler reflection of her. Younger, her hair lighter, her frame smaller, but with similar facial features and the same wonderful deep violet eyes. Before he could gather his rattled thoughts, Ellie brushed past him and almost ran out the door.
He rushed after her, having difficulty keeping her in sight as she darted around knots of shoppers and out of the Bazaar. He had to wait for a group of ladies to pass through the entrance before he was able to exit himself. After looking up and down the street outside, he caught a glimpse of Ellie headed west, towards Green Park, and set out in pursuit.
She didn’t slow until she reached the outer reaches of the park where, finally free from the street traffic that had hampered him, Christopher caught up to her. Her face ashen, her eyes wide and startled, she looked back over her shoulder at him and stumbled.
He caught her and braced her against him as he led her to the nearest bench. ‘What is it, Ellie? What frightened you so? Breathe, now!’
He sat her down and chafed her chilled hands, talking at her to make her focus her vacant gaze on him, all the questions churning in his head submerged as he worked to calm her.
Finally, she took a shuddering breath and attempted a smile. ‘S-sorry,’ she said, her voice unsteady. ‘Running off like some mindless goose. You...saw the ladies I was looking at?’
‘I did. But you needn’t explain anything you don’t want to.’
‘The resemblance is so striking, I suppose much of the story must be evident to anyone with eyes. As I’m sure you already suspect, that...girl was my sister, and that lady, my mother.’
Though Christopher was surprised by the connection, he wasn’t shocked. Given the strong resemblance between the two young women, he’d already figured Ellie must be the girl’s half-sister. It was deplorable, but sadly not all that unusual, for a peer to sire a daughter on the wrong side of the blanket, farm her out somewhere to give her a genteel upbringing, but never acknowledge her. Which would explain both Ellie’s ladylike qualities—and her ending up a viscount’s mistress.
Until he realised the flaw in that explanation. Ellie had identified the girl as her sister—but the lady as her mother.
‘You’re not base-born?’ he exclaimed before he could stop himself.
Infinite sadness in her face, she shook her head. ‘You know me as “Miss Parmenter”—my governess’s name, by the way—but until ten years ago, I was Miss Wanstead of Wanstead Manor in Hampshire.’
Miss Wanstead of Wanstead Manor? So Ellie had been legitimately born a lady? Christopher thought, astounded. Then how under heaven had she ended up Summerville’s mistress?