A Little Bit Sinful (4 page)

“Is that all you know?”

Roe tilted his head. “You know I don’t pay much attention to gossip unless it is about me. That I find infinitely amusing.”

“Think, Roe, people talk, especially when they play cards and drink. You must have heard something about the bloke over the years.”

“Demanding this morning, aren’t you? He likes women,” Roe said. Then he rolled his eyes. “A lot of women.”

“Does that mean he has several mistresses?”

“No, nothing like that. Don’t think he could afford one mistress let alone multiple ones. I meant that he enjoys having more than one woman. I believe I heard that he has a handful of ladies he courts, makes promises to, but has no intentions to follow through with any of them.”

Justin exhaled slowly. “And I’m the bastard.”

“Why the interest?”

“There’s a wager at Rodale’s about whom he’ll end up marrying. Evidently the viscount has made him an ultimatum that he must marry before the old man dies. Clarissa is on that list.”

Roe’s brows shot up. “Should have known this was about a skirt. You marry her first. Problem solved.”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t even suggest that.”

“Suit yourself, but it would get you what you want,” Roe said.

Justin didn’t comment. He might want Clarissa, but he could not have her.

Roe yawned, stretched his legs out in front of him. “Anything else of interest in your life right now?”

Clarissa was masquerading as a financial solicitor, but that was her secret he’d agreed to keep. Though Justin knew Roe would merely find it amusing, not scandalous. “Marcus and his new wife invited me to dinner.”

Roe smiled. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to stay out of Society forever. They lure you in like a worm on a hook.”

“They might invite me to attend parties, but I will never be accepted as anything more than a bastard.”

“Perhaps, but you are a particularly wealt
hy bastard and the brother of a duke. Certainly my name counts for something in your favor.”

“That is doubtful,” Justin said. “You are far too disagreeable, not to mention vexing and spoiled.”

Roe shrugged. “I do my best. I suppose Clarissa will be at this dinner?”

“I suppose she will be there as well. The invitation did not come with a complete guest list.”

“See you could begin your courtship there, make your intensions known to her brother.”

“I’m certain Marcus would be thrilled with that prospect.” Though Justin could argue that he himself was certainly a better choice than George Wilbanks. Still he could never court her, not with serious intentions regardless of how tempting that suggestion had been. She was a daughter of the Ton, and he would always be nothing more than the boy hiding at the top of the stairs.

…

Clarissa stood in front of the mirror as her maid put the finishing touches on the back of her dress. Ella burst into the room and the maid jumped, clutching her chest and muttering something in Gaelic. “Una, you may go now. Thank you.” Clarissa dismissed the maid who was smiling shakily now.

“I didn’t mean to frighten her,” Ella said. She crossed the room and sat in one of the chairs situated in front of the window.

“She’s a jumpy one, that one.” Clarissa eyed her friend. “You have gossip. I can always tell when you have something you want to say because you purse your lips and smile at the same time. I’ve actually tried to do it in the mirror before. It’s not an easy expression to make.”

Ella gave her a full smile. “I do no such thing.

Clarissa joined Ella and sat in the opposite chair. “Spill it, Ella.”

“Oh very well. So I overheard Victor and two other friends chatting in my dad’s study. Appears there is a wager going around regarding George.”

“About his father forcing him to marry. I only just heard that rumor last night,” Clarissa said.

“Then you know about the wager?”

Clarissa’s heart stuttered. “No, I don’t believe I heard anything about that.”

“Well, the good news, I don’t think you have anything to be overly concerned about because Franny Cooper is, at the moment, at the top of the betting pool.”

Clarissa shook her head. “Wait, you have to start over, I have no notion of what you’re talking about.”

“There’s evidently a wager at Rodale’s about which woman George will marry,” Ella said.

Clarissa’s heart pounded, then she remembered what Ella had said just before. “But they think his bride will be Franny Cooper?”

“Precisely.”

“And why is that the good news? Ella, you know that I want to marry George.”

Ella nodded slowly. “Well, I know that you have wanted that, yes, but I thought once you knew how callous he was being, allowing you to be the object of a wager, I thought you’d change your mind.”

“Why ever would I do a silly thing like that?”

“Because he’s obviously entertaining the idea of marrying a variety of women. Don’t you find that the least bit offensive?”

She did. It hurt, especially after she’d developed such strong feelings for George and she’d thought they’d been reciprocated. “He might not have made the list himself.”

“I suppose that is true.” But Ella seemed unconvinced. “You and Franny Cooper are so very different though.”

“I believe you must know more about her than I do.” Clarissa had met the girl on a handful of occasions and she seemed friendly enough. “What is it about her that makes her so different? Other than the obvious that she’s taller and thinner and more exotic looking?”

Ella’s features scrunched. “She’s more worldly, brazen, bold. My mother’s friends find her a vastly interesting bit of conversation. They’re always exchanging stories about some of Franny’s behavior. There are rumors that she enjoys men stealing kisses in the moonlight, but as far as I know no one has caught her.”

“So it’s all speculation,” Clarissa said.

“I suppose, but you’ve seen her, the dresses she wears. She’s certainly more brazen than either one of us.”

Brazen and worldly. Perhaps that was why George hadn’t yet proposed to her.

“We should probably get downstairs for the dinner party,” Ella said. “I only wanted to discuss this with you beforehand. Though the conversation didn’t exactly go the way I’d planned.”

“Ella, you’ll still love me and be my dearest friend if I become George’s wife, won’t you?”

Ella smiled warmly. “Of course.”

“You go ahead, I’ll be down in just a moment.” Ella left her alone and once again Clarissa stood in front of the mirror. The dress did accent her curves nicely, but the blond ringlets clashed with her womanly figure. There was nothing brazen or worldly about her.

She’d certainly felt both of those things in Justin’s arms, while he’d kissed her, while she’d kissed him back without thought to how her behavior might be perceived. Her dear, late sister-in-law, Rebecca, would no-doubt have been horrified by that, but it had been a different time when she’d met and married Charles. Things were different now, women needed more than a big dowry to catch a man’s eye. Perhaps it was time for Clarissa to start thinking about how she could get George’s attention for good. She might not know how to be worldly and brazen, but she was a quick study.

Chapter Four

Justin was shown into the parlor at the Kincaid townhouse. Marcus and his new wife, Vivian, stood in the room conversing with Marcus’s cousins and a young woman whom Justin did not know. Immediately, Vivian stepped over to him. Marcus followed behind her after patting some older gentleman on the shoulder.

“Mr. Rodale,” Vivian said. “I’m so pleased you could come tonight.”

“We are friends now. You must call me Justin.” He shook Marcus’s hand. In the world he’d grown up in, full of the wealthy and titled who always found a reason to disparage him, Justin had always trusted Marcus. “Welcome back from your honeymoon. I will not inquire as to how it went.”

Vivian blushed and Marcus smiled broadly. He grabbed his wife around the waist and pulled her to him. “It was a lovely break from London,” Vivian said. “I am glad to be back though.”

“Pleased my sister didn’t get herself into any more trouble in our absence,” Marcus said as Clarissa entered the room. She caught Justin’s gaze and her steps faltered. Evidently she hadn’t known he’d been invited.

Clarissa was radiant in a bright yellow dress that accented her golden hair. The gown fit her perfectly, molding to her curves. It had only been the night before that those curves had been pressed against him, her sultry mouth pressed to his.

Justin swallowed. Perhaps she hadn’t gotten herself into trouble, but only because she hadn’t been caught going to his townhome. And because no one had seen them kissing at the museum. Now Justin was the one making an ass of himself. He had no business looking at Clarissa in such a way, let alone while her older brother and his dear friend, stood next to him. Thankfully Marcus could not read his carnal thoughts.

“Justin, I did not realize you’d been invited to our family dinner,” Clarissa said.

“Clarissa, where is Maureen?” Vivian asked, saving Justin from having to respond to Clarissa’s quip.

“She said she was not feeling very well and for us to send up a tray,” Clarissa said. She went and stood by the other young woman and the girls put their heads together, whispering.

“Then let us not delay dinner any further,” Marcus said.

“If I could have a moment with Clarissa,” Justin said.

Marcus nodded, then led the rest into the dining room. Vivian busied herself directing people to the appropriate chairs.

Clarissa’s friend eyed her, then gave her a smile and stepped into the dining room.

When they were alone, Justin spoke first. “Is that Ella?”

“It is. Did you have a chance to speak with her father?” Clarissa asked in a hushed voice.

“I visited Lord Weaver this morning.”

She twisted her pinky finger with her other hand. “And?”

“I told him that you and I had spoken about the matter based on a conversation you and his daughter had. He was reluctant at first, but I convinced him that Mr. Bembridge was an excellent solicitor and would be able to restore his coffers. He’s agreed. You should be receiving the letter hiring,” he cleared his throat, “Mr. Bembridge in the next day or so.”

She gave him with a brilliant smile. “I could hug you right now, Justin. Thank you for helping. I couldn’t live with myself if I knew my dearest friend’s family was in dire straits and I could have helped, but stood by and did nothing.”

“I should very much enjoy that hug, I believe, but perhaps we should keep our embraces more of the private nature. Do you have ideas for their investments?”

“I do.” She told him about her thoughts and he was pleased that she’d already thought about several investments that would be highly profitable.

“Good ideas. I think those are excellent choices. I have a few other suggestions you can look at as well,” he said. “If you need additional options.”

“This makes us partners, Chrissy,” he whispered next to her ear. “Shall we?” He offered his arm and she took it. They walked into the dining room.

He smiled when he realized they’d seated him next to Clarissa. She, on the other hand, seemed somewhat flustered, but she took her seat nonetheless, refusing his assistance when he offered. Her friend was seated on the other side of her and was more than pleased when he offered her help. She smiled broadly up at him. She was shorter than Clarissa, more plump as well, and she was very pretty. Pretty in a fresh, straight from the schoolroom sort of way with her bouncing brown curls and wide green eyes.

“Justin, I am so pleased you could make it this evening,” Vivian said. “I didn’t know what your schedule would be, but I don’t suppose your establishment begins to get too busy until dinner parties like these come to a close.”

“We do tend to get busier afterwards, but there is always gaming to be found at Rodale’s. We are open whenever someone wants to play.”

“Fascinating,” Vivian said. “I’ve never been much of a gambler myself, but it is interesting.”

…

C
larissa didn’t find it interesting in the least. Wasting money on a game of chance made no sense to her at all. And truly all she could think of was the rumor Ella had shared with her. Obviously Clarissa had some brazenness inside her as Justin had been able to coax it out with merely a kiss. Of course it had been a toe-curling, knee-weakening kiss that certainly would have caused even her majesty to show a little wantonness.

“I am not a gambler either,” Justin said.

Ironic, that—Justin owning a gaming establishment, but not choosing to gamble with his own money. George was obviously a gambler, or perhaps he had lied about owing money all together. Understanding more about all of that, despite her disinterest, could make her more worldly, couldn’t it?

“Perhaps merely a shrewd businessman,” Vivian said.

“I made some good guesses on what would be popular with this crowd. While I am not one of them,” he said, “I was raised alongside them and I know them fairly well.”

“It’s amazing what you can learn simply by watching,” Vivian said.

“Indeed.” Justin turned his heated gaze to her. “You look lovely tonight, Chrissy,” he said with a grin.

Though he did not touch her, warmth radiated off his hands and seemed to permeate through her evening gown. She shook off a shiver. “Sh! Someone could hear you.”

“Hear me give a beautiful woman a compliment? Is that such a sin?”

He had her there. She nodded in concession. “Thank you.” But she refused to tell him that he too looked beautiful. Women didn’t say such things regardless of the fact that for Justin Rodale it would have been the complete truth. It was ridiculous how handsome he was, with his dark features and sultry eyes. Eyes that at the very moment were staring directly at her. Precisely what was the purpose for a man to have such long eyelashes? Thick and dark, they framed his eyes, eyes so dark they were beyond brown. She shivered again.

Why was she so annoyed that he was here? She liked him, he was a family friend. She enjoyed his kisses, though certainly that would not happen again. Still, there was no reason to be irritated with him simply because she was frustrated with her recent discovery of being in a bridal competition with Franny Cooper. Clarissa smiled warmly. “Thank you for coming to welcome back my brother and his bride,” she said louder than was necessary.

He nodded. “I came only to see you,” he said in a low voice.

She schooled her features not giving in to the shock of his admission. Ella jabbed her elbow into Clarissa’s side. She yelped, and smiled awkwardly to the rest of the table. “Hiccups,” she said. Then she leaned closer to her friend. “What?” she whispered.

“Oh good heavens, Clarissa, you never told me he was so very handsome,” Ella said dreamily.

“It didn’t seem important.”

“He’s so handsome,” Ella said. She leaned forward and smiled at Justin seated on the other side of Clarissa, then leaned back. “I know you said he looked like a pirate, but I was expecting him to be dirty and hairier. But he does, in fact, look like a pirate. As if he could swing down from a mast and take the helm.”

It was Clarissa’s turn to jab her elbow in Ella’s side. “You cannot lean forward in such a way, he’ll know you’re staring.” What was it about him that made one think of a swashbuckler? She positioned herself so that her body blocked the two people on either side of her from seeing one another. “I don’t want him to think we’re talking about him.”

“But we are talking about him,” Ella said. She looked at Clarissa with a frown.

Clarissa’s heart thundered in her chest. It occurred to her, with alarming clarity, that one of the reasons she found it so distressing that he was here was because the very last time she’d seen him, he’d kissed her. She felt her cheeks grow warm and knew a blush stained her face. Thankfully the soup course was served and she had something she could focus on besides reliving that kiss again and again. Not that she hadn’t already done so.

“He’s really dashing,” Ella whispered again. “Honestly, Clarissa, look at him”

“I will not. I am quite aware of how handsome he is.
If
you find men such as him attractive. Which I do not.”

Ella held up her hand. “Clarissa, I swear, if you say anything about George, I will vomit in my purse.”

“George is very handsome.”

“No one ever argued that point, but you are wasting your time on him. That man is never going to marry you. Good heavens, you’ve been waiting for him to propose for nearly three years. And now we find out there are at handful of other women who have been waiting right along with you. You should be furious.”

Clarissa wanted to argue, wanted to say that George would in fact propose. But she didn’t know what to believe anymore. “Let us not fight about this again. You and I see George very differently.” She wasn’t even so certain she wanted to marry George, but she knew that was who Rebecca had chosen for her. Rebecca had impeccable taste. Clarissa, on the other hand, was known for making questionable judgments. Like when she’d fallen for Christopher Reynolds, she’d been so smitten, Rebecca had told her he wasn’t to be trusted. She’d learned that the hard way when he’d deserted her and stolen several pieces of her jewelry.

“I thought you should know I’m looking into Mr. Wilbanks’ claims of owing me money.” Clarissa nearly choked as she swallowed her soup. “Do you mean to tell me that you were mistaken and that he does, in fact, owe you money?” she whispered.

He shook his head. “No, I was not mistaken. He does not owe me anything. I am merely looking deeper into the situation. I should like to know whom he does owe money, if in fact any part of his story was true.”

It was on her tongue to argue that point, to tell him that George Wilbanks was an honest man, but the words died in her mouth. Clearly George had not been honest. About his debt and about his intentions towards her. He might have a perfectly reasonable reason for lying to her, but that remained to be seen. She couldn’t very well praise his virtues when he’d so blatantly lied. What would Justin discover in his investigation of the matter?

“Will you tell me?” she asked.

“Tell you what?”

“Whatever you discover about George or this situation, will you give me the details?”

He nodded. “I will.”

The second course was served and while that occurred, Ella leaned close to Clarissa’s other ear. “Now tell me more about Mr. Rodale.”

“There is nothing to tell. He is a friend of the family,” Clarissa said, but even she wasn’t so convinced by the words.

“I wish he were a friend of my family.”

…

After dinner they retired to the parlor and Vivian invited Clarissa to play the harpsichord. Clarissa took a seat at the instrument. Justin stood against the wall, behind the chair where Clarissa had been sitting. He watched her as she splayed her fingers across the keys. She began to play. Her body moved over the keys and the music that poured from her fingers was sheer perfection. Her eyes closed and she felt each note of the piece. Mozart, if he wasn’t mistaken. She pretended as if passion was beneath her, as if feeling strongly was something only the lower classes felt, but he could see right here, right now, in front of everyone that she was passionate about music.

He smiled. It was a starting point.

She continued playing, the notes surrounded the room and no one spoke, everyone watched her, raptly attentive to her playing. Her long fingers nimbly moved against the keys quickly and she leaned forward chewing on her lip. Ladies were supposed to sit straight and play for the entertainment of those in the room. But Clarissa played for herself, Justin could clearly see that, because she loved the music, she felt it. Now he understood why she’d looked longingly at some of the displays at the museum the other night.

Finally the song came to an end and the small room burst with applause, which brought forth a most brilliant smile from Clarissa.

Marcus’s cousins stood and said their goodbyes.

Clarissa returned to her seat and Justin nodded to her.

“You play beautifully,” he leaned in and whispered.

“Thank you.”

“Passionately.”

She whipped her head around to focus on him. She opened her mouth to say something, but words seemed to fail her.

“Merely an observation,” he said with a shrug.

“Yes, well you do not need to say every thought that enters your head.”

He let his gaze wander to her bosom for several breaths, watching her breasts rise and fall, then he slowly looked back at her face. “Believe me when I tell you I do not say every thought in my head.”

She said nothing in return, but the rapid rise and fall of her breasts as her breathing sped said enough.

“Mr. Rodale, a word if you don’t mind,” Vivian said.

“Clarissa, it’s been a pleasure.” He bent over her hand, but did not kiss it. Then he turned and followed Vivian into the corridor. “Is there a problem?”

“No, no of course not. I merely wanted to discuss something with you. You are well aware of my, well, that is to say you know of the ways in which I can assist people,” Vivian said.

“I was under the impression that when you married Marcus you had ceased the life of The Paragon,” Justin said. Just months before she had been known as such in London. A woman families could go to in the midst of scandal and she would devise a plan to bury said scandal beneath the proverbial rug. She had done so for Clarissa.