A Most Unconventional Match (13 page)

Looking down at his fingers disgustedly, Hal noted two small cuts. ‘Nothing to signify.'

‘I know I sometimes prose on about farming until it drives a listener to distraction, but I've never before had one destroy a wineglass,' Ned said lightly. ‘Care to talk about it?'

‘No,' Hal replied, knowing that, even if he could get out the words to express the turmoil of fury, doubt and jealousy swirling in his head, he couldn't share so damaging and unproven a suspicion about another gentleman, not even to a friend as close as Ned Greaves. ‘Sorry about inattention, though.'

Ned said, waving a deprecating hand. ‘You'll remember, I trust, that my advice and assistance are yours should you wish them. Shall we have that game? If you're going to be distracted, I might as well profit from it!'

Hal forced his mind from the conundrum of Elizabeth Lowery and Sir Gregory Holburn. He'd need to be much calmer before he could think over the situation sensibly.

It wasn't wise for him to embroil himself any further with—or care too deeply about—the Lowery family. Nicky would be home soon to take over guarding the best interests of his nephew and his sister-in-law. What Elizabeth Lowery chose to do then—whether remarry or take a lover—was really none of Hal's business.

But until Nicky returned, Hal couldn't help but believe it was his duty, no matter how painful it might be for him to distance himself later, to continue guarding them now. If he could somehow confirm his suspicions that Sir Gregory
was
trying to trade upon Elizabeth's grief and loneliness to coax or coerce her into a premature intimacy, he would have to do something to prevent it.

Doing something almost inevitably meant that tomorrow would not be the only day he'd be spending in close proximity to Elizabeth Lowery. Given that unnerving thought, Hal decided that as soon as he'd lost enough blunt to make Ned happy, he'd pay that visit to Sally.

S
everal hours later, his purse lighter by an amount that greatly gratified Ned, his anxiety unmitigated by the quantity of wine he'd imbibed, Hal exited a hackney at an elegant town house in Chelsea.

Hal took a deep breath and mounted the stairs, a measure of calm descending on his troubled spirits. Every time he crossed the threshold of this house, he congratulated himself again on his good fortune in meeting Sally Herndon and his good sense, having swiftly recognised her for the gem she was, in persuading her to leave the select brothel in which he'd discovered her.

The town house he'd bought for her had become more a home to him than any other dwelling he owned, a place where he could count upon finding not just physical pleasure, but also a concerned listener, a thoughtful sounding board for his ideas, and shrewd, practical advice whenever he solicited it.

Perhaps he'd first seek some of the latter, since he was currently too disturbed and agitated to feel amorous, he thought as he went into the sitting room adjoining Sally's bedchamber. Before the evening was out, he trusted Sally's keen mind would soothe his worries and her skill and intimate knowledge of his body would lead them both to the nirvana of satisfaction and oblivion he craved.

He heard the soft swish of drapery and looked up. Clad in a satin dressing gown, Sally entered the sitting room, carrying herself with that innate queenly dignity that had caught his eye in Madame Lucie's parlour all those years ago. Taller than most women, her lusciously full figure and long, luxuriant fall of honey-coloured hair made her look every inch the courtesan. Yet one glance at her open, honest face, her intelligent eyes and rosy cheeks adorned with a sprinkle of freckles and Hal always saw the country girl of good yeoman blood she'd once been.

Evidently reading the tension in Hal's expression, she halted by the sideboard. ‘Some port, Hal?'

‘Please,' he responded, though thus far tonight wine hadn't been much help for the anxiety that plagued him.

She brought it over and gave him a kiss. He pulled her into a loose embrace and simply held her, savouring the clean, lemon tang of the soap she used and the comfort of having her in his arms.

Gently she disengaged herself, pointed him to the sofa and went to pour herself a glass before joining him.

‘I was afraid you'd run into difficulties, so long it's been since you've visited me. So, what is troubling you tonight?' she asked, concern in her blue eyes as she studied him over her wine.

'Twas one of the things Hal most liked about Sally. From the very first, she had treated him not as a protector who furnished her with a house and a wardrobe in return for providing him with the pleasures of the flesh, but as a friend whose company she enjoyed. She asked questions and displayed genuine interest in the answers she waited quietly for him to produce, never rushing him to respond or seeming impatient with his halting replies. With her, he never felt awkward and inadequate for taking as much time as he needed to get the words out. As a result, from very early in their relationship he had come to confide in her and solicit her opinion on more of his concerns than he'd ever voiced to anyone.

‘Was there a problem with the canal workers?' she prompted, pulling him out of his reminiscence. ‘I hear the lords in Parliament are worried out of their wigs about trade associations forming in the north. Wouldn't want commoners making demands of the toffs that own the enterprises, now would we? But I hope the dispute isn't harming your interests.'

Hal grinned at her. ‘Been reading papers again.'

Sally smiled back. ‘What else have I to do all day, after checking with the housekeeper and making sure the butler isn't robbing you blind? Despite my late profession, I come from industrious stock. I ought to pay you, my lord, letting me lounge about, doing nothing more taxing than tending my vegetables and reading all the periodicals you subscribe to for me. I'll soon have more education than a
ton
miss from some fancy lady's academy.'

Comparing the tone and expertise of Sally's conversation to that of his mother, a lady born, Hal said, ‘Already have more. Common sense too. More valuable than education.' And wouldn't Mama have palpitations were she ever to learn her son had compared her unfavourably to a low-born country lass who'd come to London to ply the only profession left to a maid who'd lost her virtue!

Swallowing a chuckle, Hal said, ‘Canal going well. Opening new phase. Put some money in for you.'

‘How good you are to me, sir! The evening papers have been touting the prospects of canal ventures.' Giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, she laughed. ‘I expect I'm the only demi-rep in London with blunt in investments.'

‘One of few benefits of settling for simple man,' Hal said. ‘Could have had titled lord.'

Sally shook her head, her expression turning tender. ‘Even as a nodkin straight from the country, I knew the first time I met you that you was better than that whole lot of lordlings visiting Madame Lucie's. All them looking at me with lust in their eyes, smiling so nice all the while thinking I was no more than a toy for their pleasure. I'll never forget how different you treated me.' She angled her head at him. ‘You remember what you said then?'

Hal shook his head and laughed. ‘Sorry, don't. First time ever in brothel. Terrified, intimidated by all the ladies. Surprised I managed to speak.'

‘You stood on the edge of the room, so tall and handsome and serious, like one of them gods out of that mythology book you got me,' she recalled. ‘Then you walked past the prettier, more experienced girls right up to me—tall shy Sally, fresh out of the country and probably still smelling of hay. You asked what county I'd come from, like I was some visitor to London instead of a tart in a brothel. I nearly swooned.'

Hal frowned. ‘Are country girl. Never tart. How else survive, after seducer abandoned you?'

‘Well, 'tis good of you to think that, for most folks is ready enough to condemn! I am what I am and don't mean to deny it, though thanks to you I've not had to ply the trade since those early days. Nor, thanks to you, will I ever have to again! You've given me more for gowns and trinkets than I'd ever need, even invested money for me. But more'n that, you…talk to me. You never made fun of me wanting to educate myself nor scoffed at the notion of me reading them books and newspapers. When you came back to Madame Lucie's after that first night and said that you'd make her let me go if I wanted to come with you, I thought I was the luckiest girl in the world.' She leaned over to press his hand. ‘I still do.'

‘Been good for me too,' Hal affirmed fondly. ‘Not just bedding me. Friend. Wise.'

‘I'm not so sure about that last,' she said, shaking her head. ‘So, what now? Counsel first…or comfort?'

Hal gazed over at her. She looked lovely, simply dressed as she always was, whether in modest, fashionable gowns indistinguishable from those of the
ton
ladies who would cross the street to avoid walking past her, or tonight in her ruffled satin wrapper. But with her firm breasts swelling beneath the dressing gown, her luxuriant hair tumbling over her shoulders and down her back, she also looked infinitely desirable. He felt passion stir.

But…he would be seeing Elizabeth tomorrow. If he enjoyed this night with Sally, slept replete in her bed, how could he face Elizabeth with the lemon scent of another woman still in his nostrils, seeped into his skin?

After downing a hasty swallow of wine to try to cool his fevered blood, he said ‘Counsel. Have dilemma. Been standing in for Nicky with sister-in-law. Just lost husband. Finances in disarray. Sorting out. Sad little boy.' At the thought of David, he smiled. ‘Brought him dog. But…husband's friend also calling. Sir Gregory Holburn. Widow lovely.' Just thinking of Holburn's possible perfidy transformed the heat of desire back to smouldering anger.

An avid reader of the London journals, Sally was more knowledgeable about
ton
society than Hal. ‘You think he may be trying to persuade the grieving widow under his protection? A fine way to honour the memory of his friend!'

‘Yes, suspect it. Accosted me tonight, warned me off. But how prove? How protect if prove? Maybe wants to accept Holburn. But loved husband, too soon for another.'

‘Mayhap. But finding herself suddenly alone, bereft, uncertain what to do, she may grab the first support she finds. Lucky for her Nicky asked you to be there.'

‘But not there all the time,' Hal replied, frowning. That was the heart of the dilemma. His first and strongest impulse after the confrontation with Holburn, to install himself on the sofa in the Lowery library where he might guard Elizabeth night and day, was in dire conflict with the imperative, almost as strongly felt, to protect his too-susceptible heart by spending as little time in the Lowery house as possible.

‘Observe what you can when you are there,' Sally was advising. ‘If it seems the lady favours the gent, then you shouldn't stick your nose into it. And since most likely this lordling isn't going to call when you're at the house, you should find an ally on the staff to tell you of his doings. There's sure to be a maid or footman happy to earn a coin by reporting what they know of their betters.'

Hal thought of the groom who'd seemed so pleased at David's delight in the puppy. But would a servant from the stables know enough of what transpired in the house?

‘Try that. Still worried. Never gone into society. Sheltered whole life by family that loves her. Elizabeth a true innocent.'

Sally's eyes widened. ‘Elizabeth?' she interposed.

‘Elizabeth Lowery. Sarah's sister,' Hal explained. ‘Afraid Holburn try to manoeuvre, manipulate her.'

Sally frowned. ‘There be another danger. If Holburn treats her like his mistress, taking her about, buying her trinkets, especially so soon after her husband's death, society will think she's accepted his
carte blanche
, whether 'tis true or not. He could use that fact to coerce her consent.'

Anger flared into alarm. ‘Damn!' Hal exploded, slamming his fist on the side table so hard the wineglass jumped. ‘Hadn't thought of that. Easier to watch for, though. But how to protect if not sure?'

‘You're so clever, I know you'll think of something.' Sally smiled at him, the slow seductive smile that never failed to turn his thoughts to mush and his body to flame. ‘Just like I'm thinking of…something.' She ran her finger down his chest.

He was, oh, so tempted…but the image of Elizabeth's face danced behind his eyelids. Struggling to resist his body's demand that he succumb, Hal made himself pluck Sally's fingers from the buttons on his waistcoat. Shaking his head apologetically, he kissed her fingertips.

Sally's smile faded. ‘You'll see the lady soon?'

‘Tomorrow,' Hal confirmed.

Disengaging her hands, Sally rose and walked away. She tucked the dressing gown more firmly about her lush figure before turning back to him. ‘So she's the one.'

‘The one?' Hal echoed blankly.

Her expression infinitely sad, Sally nodded. ‘All these years you stayed with me, every spring your mama throwing well-born ladies in front of you…well, at first I just figured you didn't want to be leg-shackled, leastways not to a chit of your mama's choosing. But for a long time now I've thought there must be…someone else. A lady who died or mayhap married another gent. Someone who kept you coming here while your friends went on to wed.'

Panicked denial rose in Hal. ‘Not the one!' he insisted.

Sally raised her eyebrows. ‘Is she not lovely, this Elizabeth?'

‘Beautiful,' Hal affirmed with a sigh.

‘Do you not admire her?'

Hal nodded glumly. ‘Didn't want to. Thought she'd be like Mama. Isn't, though. More like you. Intelligent. Kind. Witty.'

‘And you desire her?' Sally asked softly.

Hal felt his face flame. ‘Yes,' he admitted gruffly.

Sally walked back to sit beside him. ‘Then you must pursue her,' she said, gazing intently into his eyes.

‘Too soon! Just lost husband. Besides, never want me.'

‘Then she's a fool! You, Hal Waterman, are the best man any woman could ever have. You treat even a whore like a lady. I can only imagine how you'd treasure a real one.'

‘You real lady, more than most I know,' Hal protested.

‘Your mama, you mean. Wouldn't I just like to put a few words in that woman's ear! Hal, you are a man meant for loving. I hear how you talk about Nicky's son and what he shares with his Sarah. You should have a family—a wife, sons and daughters to cherish.'

Sally was moving too fast. Hal didn't want to be swept along by the logic of her argument…didn't want to face what her conclusions would mean.

Before he could sort out his conflicting emotions well enough to try to counter her words, Sally said, ‘This Elizabeth—she's been in your head for years, hasn't she?'

‘Avoided her for years,' Hal admitted.