Improper Pleasures (The Pleasure Series #1) (26 page)

James sat up the moment she slipped into the room, letting
her know he was awake. A thin sheet fell to his waist revealing that he was
naked. Moonlight poured through an open window where James had shoved the
damask blue drapes wide. He silently watched her approach. She could not read
the emotions that tightened his features.

Not waiting for an invitation, she crossed the room and
sat beside him on the enormous four-poster bed, laid a hand on his bare chest
and met his intense gaze. “Is it true? You are dueling with Lord Blackmore
tomorrow?”

James took her hand and squeezed. “Do you still love him?”

“Love him? What in the world led you to ask that? Don’t do
this James.”

He stared in her eyes a moment, waiting for her to say
more. When she only stared back in confusion, he touched her face. “Tell me
what happened between you two. I need to know.”

“Nothing! But I would dearly like to know what happened
between you two.” She gripped his hand and held them in both of hers. “Darien
Blackmore has been trying to get himself killed for years, James.
Unfortunately, he is an excellent shot. Most people have the sense to refuse
his challenges. You must call off the duel.”

He pulled away from her grip, his gaze penetrating even in
the soft shadows. “You still don’t trust me.” He swung his legs off the bed and
stood.

Astra jumped to get out of his way. “It’s not a matter of
trust. Of course, I trust you. I just don’t want to see bloodshed over
something that happened years ago.”

“And he should have been called out for it years ago.” James
found his discarded breeches and yanked them over his hips. “The bastard thinks
he’s gotten away with something and has the nerve to insult you in your own
home. My God, he doesn’t even give a damn—”

Astra approached him where he stood with his back to the
cold fireplace. “James, you must have misunderstood. What did he say?”

“I’ll not repeat it. Nor will he. I’ll make sure of that.”

“I don’t care! He can say whatever he likes, just don’t do
this. Please don’t risk your life. You mean too much to me.” The emotion in her
voice teetered on the verge of hysterical but she would gladly sob to keep him
from making such a foolish mistake.

“I do care what people say about you.” James lit the
candles lining the mantle, then turned to face her. Either her words or the
desperation in her plea softened James’s stern demeanor. He strode toward her
and took her into his arms. “I won’t tolerate Lark’s father spreading lies
about her mother.”

Astra pulled out of his arms. “Lark’s father? What was
said James? I need to know everything.” Lord Blackmore had been part of Trent’s
set but she never thought of him as one to ruin lives for sport. She had been
wrong to flaunt herself at the ball. Bring notice to herself. It was as though Trent
used his friends to ruin her from the grave.

James must have noticed how pale she’d become. “He’ll
never repeat it, Astra. I promise you that.”

“I must know what he said about Lark? Was he speaking to
you or others?”

James gathered her clenched hands in his and kissed her
knuckles. “He didn’t mention Lark or claim her as his own, if that’s what’s
upsetting you so.”

She pulled her hands from his, not sure whether to be
relieved or horrified. “Lord Blackmore is not Lark’s father. I hardly know the
man.”

James cocked his head. “The way he looked at you…”

“He was watching Ivy. Not me. They were engaged and
needless to say it ended badly.”

James paused, then nodded with an inner understanding that
did not clear the matter up for Astra in the least. “He thought Ivy was my
mistress, I think.” He sighed. “But all I saw was him coveting you, like every
other man in the room and there was not a damn thing I could do about it.”

Apparently Astra’s plan to make herself desirable had
backfired. Again. “Lark’s father is dead, James.”

“Don’t patronize me.”

Tired of all the havoc secrets had wreaked tonight, Astra
smiled sadly. “There was only one man I wanted to look at me tonight. You. I
suppose I went too far.”

“Retribution for Miss Bainbridge I assume.”

“No, I just wanted…I don’t know what I wanted. To be
beautiful and young and have a second chance at a promising future. Or at least
pretend I did for one night.”

“Our arrangement has been a mistake.” That his words were
not a question hurt Astra more than she expected.

“No. Never. You have made me happy. Made me feel beautiful
and treasured, and I suppose there is a price to be paid, but I’ll be damned if
it’s with your life. You must call off the duel.”

“He publicly called a guest in my home a whore. I’m not
going to ignore that.”

Astra gasped at James’s words, as if the insult had been
toward her. She turned and faced the window, not wanting James to know how
personally she took the blow. “Will he never forgive her? Must she live her
life in shame, eternally ostracized from society?”

“I’m not going to let that happen to you.” He came up
behind her, reading her thoughts, her horror.

“I will not let you sacrifice yourself because of my
folly.” She turned to face him, her spine as straight as Ivy’s when she’d left
the ball knowing full well her presence had ruined the evening, just as she’d
feared. “I have put one man in an early grave. I will not do that to you.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that Trent Keane, Lowell’s brother is Lark’s
father. Lowell married me after his brother’s death to save me from ruin and to
give his niece their family name.”

James stared at her, stunned. The look of disappointment
and shock stabbed her in the heart. “So you were in love with Lark’s father and
he you.”

Astra rushed to him. “No. I suppose I fancied myself in
love with him, but he never returned my feelings. Honestly, he hardly noticed
me. I can see that now. But he was so dashing and I fear I read far too many
romantic novels.”

“Apparently he took some notice of you.” James remained
stiff, on guard, though he wrapped her in his arms and held her against his bare
chest.

“My mother had hopes that I would become mistress of
Eastlan. She had the same goal herself but had failed to lure the heir away
from his arranged marriage to Lady Phillina. She encouraged my girlhood
infatuation with Trent. He was older, bold, handsome. But also, very spoiled
and arrogant. I see that now, I didn’t then.”

James brushed her hair out of her face, relaxed a bit
against her. “And a bastard who lures virgins to their ruin.”

She laid her forehead against his chest. Oh how easy it
would be to paint a different picture from the truth. A much more flattering
version that no one was likely to dispute, but this night of disasters was
caused by lies. She owed James the truth, no matter how it hurt.

She forced herself to meet James’s gaze. “I lured him. My
mother took me to London for a ball. I had never had much of a coming out. She
didn’t handle her funds from my father well but she looked upon this occasion
as an investment in both our futures.”

Astra pulled out of James’s embrace, unable to face him
while she told the rest of her sordid tale. “Lord Keane had recently passed on,
unexpectedly leaving Trent with the title. My mother decked me out in the
finest gown, hired someone to arrange my hair, borrowed jewels from Lord knows
where. The results turned Trent’s head. At first he didn’t even recognize me as
the skinny brat of his former tutor.”

“And he seduced you.” James came up behind her and laid
his hands on her shoulders. “That hardly makes you the culprit. Women are
allowed to be beautiful without being punished for it.”

Astra turned, forcing herself to meet his gaze. “Thank
you. But I did more than let him seduce me. I went alone with him to his
townhouse. Even suggested it. There was a candle by the bedside that I blew out
when the deed was complete. A signal. As arranged, my mother arrived catching
us in the buff, my virgin’s blood on his sheets.”

“And he died before the wedding was complete. You were
lucky.”

“No,” Astra said, feeling a bit lighter and a bit more
miserable. “He refused to marry me. Said I was frigid. Unfit for his bed. He
would not wed himself to a cold fish, he had said. I was afraid I suppose. He
was a little rough.”

“Stop,” James said. “I’ve heard enough.”

“No, I must finish.” Her determination and the steadiness
of her voice spurned her on with a strange sensation of power. The more she
poured out her secrets the more in control she felt. “Not only did he refuse to
marry me, he told his friends of his conquest. I think some of them kept quiet
because it was so unsporting. I was naive and obviously smitten, and worst of
all poor with no family except for my mother to look after me. I retired to the
country, miserable, sick to my stomach with humiliation, or so I thought.”

“You were with child,” James said, keeping his distance.

“A couple of months later, Trent was mauled by his tiger.
By the time I received the news, I realized I was breeding. When Lowell came
home to bury his brother”—she swallowed before she continued, realizing she
could forgive herself for her mistake with Trent, but never for her treatment
of his brother—“he had been taking the waters in Bath for his lung ailment. His
health was improving but instead of staying there he felt he should return
immediately. With no one else to turn to, I confided in him and he hastily
married me. There was talk, but we led a quiet life in the country and the
speculation faded. At worst everyone thought I married Lowell for his title.”

“Why do you blame yourself for ruining his life? Anyone
would have done the same. I’m sure he was happy that he was in a position to
give his brother’s child a name.”

“Yes, he was.” James’s kind words ruined Astra’s brave
demeanor and her eyes filled with tears. A sob broke from her throat, tears she
felt unjustified to cry all those years ago. James pulled her against him. “I’m
sorry.” She pushed away and wiped her face. “I knew Lowell had harbored
romantic feelings for me while I nursed my daydreams about his brother. Lowell
had always been sickly. We spent time together reading, playing cards while
other boys were out riding. We even wrote a play together.”

“Then you made his secret wish a reality.”

Astra shook her head. “I killed him.”

“You are mistaken.”

“He claimed he was happy we married. And I wanted to be
his wife in every way.” She glanced up at James. “He wanted an heir. He never
touched me while I was pregnant with Lark. I was miserable to be around and he
was so kind. Giving me time to adjust. He treated me like the timid virgin I
most definitely was not. After Lark was born, he courted me. Long walks,
dinners alone, gifts. But I could never accept him as a lover. I thought of him
as a brother. Though I would never refuse him, I prayed he would lose interest
in consummating the marriage and, God help me, I was relieved when his health
would take an abrupt turn for the worse from time to time.”

James kissed her forehead. “You can’t blame yourself for a
man’s unstable health.”

“We went on like that for two years, James. Lowell
struggling with miserable bouts of illness. Then slowly getting better,
beginning his courting process all over again and then abruptly another turn
for the worse. And each time I was grateful by the reprieve while cursing
myself for my horrid selfishness. Lowell deserved so much better.”

“Astra,” James kissed her lightly on the lips, the cheek.
“You can’t blame yourself. I’m sure your hesitation had nothing to do with his
bouts of illness.”

Astra wanted to believe James. She had almost convinced
herself of the same, but the consistency of Lowell’s episodes when they were on
the verge of truly becoming man and wife was hard to dismiss as coincidence.

Now that Astra had revealed the worst of it, she felt
drained. She turned and sank into a blue velvet high-backed chair, caught her
breath and remembered her real purpose in coming tonight.

“So, you see why you must call off the duel?”

“That’s impossible.” James padded on bare feet to a highly
polished chest of drawers devoid of clutter except for a silver tray topped
with a cut crystal decanter and goblet. He poured two brandies, handed one to
Astra, then sat in the matching chair across from her. “The man challenged me
in public. And even if he didn’t, his insult deserves to be answered.”

Astra forced herself to sip the strong drink, hoping to
calm her strained nerves. She choked on it instead. James leaned forward to
offer assistance but she waved him away. “Ivy does not wish you to fight the
duel. It will only make things worse for her. She wants the whole incident to
be forgotten.”

“That’s not likely even if I call off the duel.” James
took a gulp of his brandy. “I fear there might be others who misinterpreted
Blackmore’s words and my reaction. Bainbridge suspects…” James rubbed his
forehead. “He suspects we are involved.”

Astra laid her head against the chair, suddenly realizing
that speculation on her relationship with James had been inevitable the moment
she’d decided to stay in residence at Eastlan. “You did not dance with the
Bainbridge girls I noticed. Shame on you.”

“I intended to.” James shrugged. “I was too preoccupied
mooning over you in that damned dress. I fear I gave us away to more than
Bainbridge.”

“It’s only suspicion.” Despite the disaster looming before
them, Astra could not help but smile at James. She must be mad to still yearn
for such scandalous proof of James’s affection. “With two unattached adults of
the opposite sex living under the same roof there was bound to be speculation
of something tawdry.” She dropped her gaze to the warm brown liquid pooled in
her glass. Her whole scheme to maintain her place at Eastlan while remaining
above reproach had been as misguided as her mother’s plan to marry Astra to
Trent. “Lark, Mother and I will pay an extended visit to some friends in Kent.
The rumors about us will be forgotten but I fear Ivy will bear the brunt of
people’s ill will and malicious gossip.”