A Taste of Temptation (16 page)

Startled, the woman jumped and moved away from the mirror. It was clear from the way she was dressed that she was a maid, but Olivia hadn’t seen her earlier in the evening.

“Who are you?” Olivia asked, walking farther into the room.

The maid curtsied nervously. “I’m Ellie, Countess. I’m to be—that is, I want to be your lady’s maid. I heard you were inquiring about one. I’m at your service. Just tell me what you want me to do.”

Olivia had always shared her aunt’s maid. She knew that now she had to have her own personal maid and she planned to interview for one later in the week. As long as Lord Dugdale had household maids and kitchen staff she would have all the help she needed until she found a suit-able person.

“I’ve planned to interview others for the job as my personal maid. I’m quite capable of taking care of myself until I hire someone.”

“Oh, please don’t dismiss me without giving me a chance, Countess.” The young lady clasped her hands together and held them under her chin. “I need this job to help care for my ailing mum and the younger ones at home. I can suit you if you’ll give me a chance. I know it. Mr. Whibbs has already said he would have to dismiss me if I did one more thing wrong. You’re my only chance to keep my job. I don’t know what I’ll do if I don’t please you.” The pleading maid was short and slight of frame. Her complexion was unusually white. A mop cap completely covered her hair and her pale blue eyes looked almost too big for her thin, long face. She had a desperate look in her expression that Olivia couldn’t ignore.

Somehow she identified with the young woman’s feeling of rejection, but Olivia didn’t know if the maid was capable of moving from household duties to being a lady’s maid. That would be a grand promotion for her.

“Surely there is something else in the house you can do.

I’ll speak to Whibbs for you.”

“No, Countess. If you don’t have use for me I’m fearful Mr. Whibbs will turn me off tomorrow.” Olivia sighed. She suddenly felt very weary. She didn’t want to have to handle anything like this after her debacle with Andrew. She just wanted to be alone in her room.

Suddenly Ellie’s eyes brightened and she smiled. “I’m not too good with household chores, but look at all I’ve done for you. I turned back the covers.” She rushed over to the bed and pressed an imaginary wrinkle out of the sheet with a frail, trembling hand that looked much too old for her young age.

“And I’ve laid out your nightrail real pretty for you.” She straightened the bow at the neckline of the garment that had been neatly folded and laid on the bed. She then hurried over to the dressing table. “And look, I brought you up some milk and a plate of apricot tarts just in case you didn’t get to eat much tonight with it being your wedding and all. I can go down to the kitchen and get you something else if you don’t like apricots.”

“No, no that’s fine. Thank you, Ellie, all you have done is very nice.”

Ellie’s smile broadened and she said, “Thank you, Countess. I just poured hot water in the basin for you in case you want to wash.”

Olivia could see hope struggling with fear in Ellie’s face. She felt she had to smile at her and say, “That was thoughtful of you.”

“Shall I help you undress? I can take down your hair and comb it out for you without pulling it once? I’m real gentle.”

“No, no, Ellie. I can manage everything for myself tonight. You go on to bed and we’ll discuss this further in the morning.”

“You mean you’ll keep me?” she asked with a hopeful look in her eyes.

Olivia relented. “Yes. I’ll speak to Whibbs and tell him you will be my maid.”

Relief washed down her face like sunshine chasing away gray clouds. “Thank you, Countess.” She curtsied and smiled again. “What time should I wake you, and would you prefer tea, chocolate, or something else?”

“I’ve always preferred to be up and dressed before having tea. And I don’t know how long I shall sleep tomorrow, so don’t disturb me. I’ll tell Whibbs and we’ll discuss everything at that time. Right now I’d really like to be alone and go to bed.”

“Certainly, Countess, I understand. Thank you,” she said with a grateful look and softly closed the door on her way out.

By the time Olivia had dressed for bed and splashed the warm water on her face she felt drained from the day’s events. She sat down in front of the looking glass on her dressing table to take down her hair and noticed the milk and three small tarts on a plate.

Her stomach rumbled. She hadn’t eaten anything since morning, and the golden-colored treats looked delicious.

She quickly consumed all of them and realized she actually felt better, stronger after eating.

Somehow this servant Olivia had never seen before knew exactly what she’d needed tonight: food, warm water for washing, and a freshly laundered nightrail. All these things had helped soothe her.

Olivia took down her hair and brushed it. Andrew truly felt she had tricked him into marriage. She could understand how that could make him so angry with her he wouldn’t take her to his bed even though he wanted to. Maybe that was why she couldn’t find it inside herself to stay upset with him.

But Olivia wasn’t one to give up without a fight. She was Andrew’s wife and she would find a way to be a part of her husband’s life.

8

A
ndrew had every
intention of spending the night at White’s when he climbed into his carriage a few minutes after dismissing his wife from his bedroom. But when his driver had stopped the phaeton in front of the nondescript building on St. James Street, Andrew couldn’t bring himself to get out.

Instead he gave the man another address to take him to.

The carriage clipped along the road at a brisk pace and Andrew brooded, something he wasn’t used to doing. But then he wasn’t used to getting married, either.

He was restless and wondering why in bloody hell he hadn’t stayed home and taken from his wife what she was more than willing to give. She was eager to learn and explore the pleasures between a man and a woman, and Lord knows he was willing to teach her. She had him trembling with wanting her.

Damn, she had been tempting.

He’d been so hard for her that it had been physically painful to set her away from him. But suddenly he’d remembered how she’d manipulated him from the moment he saw her, and he had to stop himself. It hadn’t been a show of strength as much as it was a challenge to himself to make sure he could deny her.

She had forced him into the marriage.

She’d responded to his touch with an eager innocence that had him hurting for release. The only thing that had given him the willpower to do it was knowing that she wanted him to take her to his bed. It was all part of her plan from the beginning. She’d marched up to his room with all ease and calm and had watched him undress.

What man wouldn’t get hard over that?

It was her way of trying to continue to manipulate him to get what she wanted. Something inside him said he couldn’t let her win again. If he’d taken her and given her the loving their bodies had yearned for she would have gotten everything she wanted from him.

It wasn’t easy, but not taking her to his bed gave him control over her.

She’d gotten the marriage and that was all he was willing to give.

For now.

He could change his mind any time he wanted and he planned to. His body was telling him to stop being a scoundrel and do it tonight.

And what of this man in Kent that she purported to fancy? Had she really forgotten him? Perhaps he had been just part of her ruse to make Andrew think she hadn’t planned this whole thing? There was little or no reserve in her kisses and he felt sure there would have been if she was attracted to another man.

Andrew decided he must be restless because he didn’t have a mistress to help get him through the long nights, and he didn’t have a mistress because he hadn’t put any effort into finding one since he’d been in Town.

He was eliminating that oversight tonight.

The carriage stopped in an area far removed from the elite section of Mayfair where Andrew lived. He opened the door and stepped down. It was still early in the evening, so there was a chance that Haversham was still at home.

The tradesman had sent him a note saying he’d heard that Andrew was seeking a mistress. That could only mean one thing. Haversham knew of a woman who was looking for a lover.

The night was dark, damp, and foggy, matching his mood. He strode up to the door where a single hazy light shone through the dense fog, lifted the knocker, and let it fall. The sound echoed inside the house. Outside, a chilling breeze reminded Andrew of how warm and comfortable Olivia’s body had been, nestled so close to his. The moist air had him thinking about her malleable lips that fit perfectly, eagerly against his, how soft her woman’s body was against his hardness.

He wanted her.

He was being foolish in denying himself his wife, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself.

She had left him with no doubt that she would be an amazing woman to have in his bed, and the thought ran through his mind that he was the worst kind of fool to be looking for a mistress when he had Olivia.

A well-dressed butler answered the door.

“I’d like a word with Haversham if he’s home and receiving guests,” Andrew said.

“Who shall I say is calling, sir?”

“Lord Dugdale.”

The butler stood aside and allowed Andrew to enter.

“Wait here in the foyer, my lord; I’ll see if Mr. Haversham is in.”

“Thank you.” Andrew handed him his hat, coat, and gloves.

Andrew looked around the wide foyer. The furnishings were of fine wood and the draperies of fine fabric. He stood on an expensive wool rug. Obviously Haversham’s business was doing well.

The butler came back a couple of minutes later and showed Andrew into the parlor. The warmth of a low burning fire was the first thing Andrew noticed. The room smelled of tobacco, burned wood, and beeswax. The room was big and filled with elaborate furniture, further evi-dence of Haversham’s wealth.

“Come in, Lord Dugdale,” Haversham said from the back of the room, where he was pouring what looked like brandy into two crystal glasses.

He was a tall, portly gentleman, but the expert cut of his clothing hid his rounded middle. The man’s gray hair was thick and trimmed closely to his head. His mustache had been shaved to a thin line on his upper lip and it came around and met his goatee.

“I’d heard you were back in town, my lord, and getting married I believe. When is the happy occasion?”

“I was married today,” Andrew said and instantly didn’t like the way the admission made him feel, considering what he was doing at Haversham’s house.

Haversham never blinked an eye, never raised a brow, never showed a hint of surprise in his features. There probably wasn’t much this man hadn’t heard.

Andrew swallowed his moment of guilt.

“Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

He handed Andrew the drink and said, “Have a seat and make yourself comfortable.”

Andrew didn’t want to get drawn into a friendly conversation with this man and he didn’t want his liquor. A business deal was the only thing he was looking for from him.

“I can’t stay.”

“I understand.”

“Your note indicated you have a name I might be interested in.”

Damnation!

What was wrong with him? He couldn’t say the word
mistress.
It was a wonder that Haversham wasn’t laughing at him.

The portly man tapped his lips with his forefinger and seemed to study the request for a moment. “Yes, I do.

Three, presently, that you might be interested in becoming acquainted with.”

Andrew liked the fact he didn’t question him about anything.

“Good. Could you arrange for me to meet one of them?”

“Absolutely. In fact I have one that I can say with all faith that would be available tomorrow if you’re interested.

I believe you know her. Arabelle Woodward has just become unattached.”

Andrew felt a jump in his loins. Arabelle had been his mistress five or six years ago. She was a bit older than him as he remembered, but well versed in knowing how to please a man and knowing how to enjoy a man’s touch. If she was available, she was more than acceptable.

“Yes. I know her and I wouldn’t mind seeing her again.”

“I’ll send you a time that is convenient for her first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Good.”

Andrew set down the untouched drink and turned and walked out.

He stepped out into the damp fog again and realized he felt as black as the night. He didn’t feel good about what he was doing and he didn’t exactly know why.

Bloody hell.

What was bothering him? A man had every right to have a mistress if he so chose. Maybe what plagued him was that most gentlemen didn’t go looking for mistresses on their wedding night.

8

S
omething disturbed Olivia’s
slumber.

Her lashes fluttered upward and her eyes popped open to complete darkness. She lay on her side with her cheek flat against the pillow. Not sure what had awakened her, she didn’t move.

Was that breathing she heard? Was it her own?

She looked around without lifting her head but saw nothing. She heard the soft sound of rustling movement.

Someone was in the room with her.

Had Ellie returned after she told her not to disturb her?

No, the maid was too frightened of losing her job to dis-obey Olivia.

Had Andrew changed his mind when he returned and come into her bedroom? Her heart beat faster. Did this mean he wasn’t immune to her after all?