Improper Pleasures (The Pleasure Series #1) (39 page)

Apparently James noticed Wesley’s hesitancy as well
because he laughed. “You better steady your aim, Wesley. You miss and you’re
going to envy Trent’s run in with the tiger. Your demise won’t be so pleasant.”

Wesley paled but took a step closer, his aim squarely on
James who stood as still as a stone, making himself an easy target.

Astra intended to change that. Lark in her arms, she
strolled to James. “I’ve changed my mind.” She handed Lark to a startled James.
“I don’t wish for you to shoot James.”

Astra stood in front of James, and blocked them both from
Wesley. James shoved Lark back into her arms. “Get out of here. Now!”

“You are a bloody fool, Astra.” Wesley glared at her, but
he did abruptly lower the pistol. “You know, I have another plan as well. It
involves you. Dead.”

“Go, Astra. Have a care for your children.” James voice
was no longer calm, but quite furious. “
Our
children!”

Astra clutched her daughter to her. “What of Lark?” she
said to Wesley, ignoring James’s obvious desperation to force her to leave him.

“I don’t give a damn about Lark,” Wesley said. “You really
are a whore, aren’t you? Just like Trent said.”

Astra struggled with what she should do. She did not want
to leave James, nor could she risk Lark’s life as she was doing.

She glanced up and spotted Melva slipping into the room,
an iron skillet in her hand. Their gazes met and held. Astra knew one of her
prayers had been answered. Perhaps even all of them.

“So tell me your plan. How does it involve me? I had no
idea you where so clever,” she said clutching her daughter to her. She
suspected James had spotted Melva as well, because he had begun to inch from
behind her, drawing Wesley’s attention from the woman sneaking up on him.

“You shall be the one to hang yourself. After you shoot
your husband and his pregnant lover first. Stop right there, James.” Wesley
aimed again but his grip was less steady.

“I don’t care for that outcome.” Astra stepped away from
James, Lark tightly clutched in her arms. “I suppose you might as well go ahead
and shoot him.”

Melva had neared Wesley and he turned at the same time she
brought the pan down on his head. The pistol exploded and Astra curled around
her daughter, praying the shot went wild. A door banged open and Mr. Rudd
charged in the room, yelling like a banshee and brandishing a sword. Darien
Blackmore planted himself in the entryway and brought a musket to his shoulder.

James wrapped his arms around Astra. “Are you hurt?”

Lark struggled out of her arms and Astra pressed her
daughter’s face into her chest. “Go back to sleep, darling.”

“Mama, I can’t breathe.”

“Take her home, Astra. We shall deal with this.”

“You bloody bastard. You lied to me. And this babe ain’t
even yours,” yelled Melva. “Think I was daft enough to drink anything the likes
of you tried to force down my throat?”

Mr. Rudd sat on Wesley. Blackmore glanced warily at Melva
who still brandished the skillet. “What shall we do with her?”

“I won’t say a word if you kill him.” She dropped the
skillet with a clang. “He was going to do me in. I didn’t know what he was
about. I swear.”

“Restrain her until I can see my wife home,” James said,
the gravity in his voice warning her he was about to do something neither of
them could live with.

“No one shall kill anyone. Please, James. Let the courts
punish Wesley,” said Astra. “I do not want you risking yourself any further.
You could be charged with murder.”

“Go ahead and shoot me in cold blood. I would expect
nothing less from you, James,” said Wesley as he roused himself.

His calmness shocked her. Wesley did not want this to
continue any more than James did.

“He’s a bloody murderer,” said Melva. “I didn’t want to
hurt the lady or Lord Keane. Mr. Hutton promised to take me to Italy if I
helped him. Wanted me to claim Lord Keane was my babe’s da so as to get some
traveling money.” Melva dodged Blackmore every time he tried to approach her.
“I would never have tricked poor Lady Keane if I had a choice, I swear.”

“You saved my husband, Melva. No harm will come to you. I
will personally see that you are taken care of. You will get a second chance.”
Astra readjusted Lark who had somehow fallen back to sleep despite all the
yelling.

James lifted Lark from Astra’s aching arms. “No harm will
come to Melva. This will be easier for everyone if I handle Wesley myself. Let
me take you home so you can rest. The excitement isn’t good for the baby.”

“No, James. That’s what he wants.” She turned to Wesley.
“I want the world to know what you did to Lowell.”

Wesley cocked his head. “Tell them to shoot me, Astra or I
shall tell everyone who fathered Lark at my trial. It’s bound to come out.”

Astra laughed. “I don’t give a bloody damn.”

Wesley’s face crumbled. His lower lip quivered. “Please,
Astra. I will die of shame as will you.”

Astra reached for James’s hand. “I shall be fine.” She
kissed James’s knuckles, tears she had not realized she needed to shed taking
her by surprise. “I have nothing to hide.”

She glanced up at James.

He shook his head in agreement and drew her in closer,
balancing Lark with his other arm. “Have it your way. But you are too honest
for your own good. Will you let me take you home now? I’ll send someone for the
sheriff.”

Astra collapsed against her husband’s side, suddenly too
exhausted to argue. She would be grateful to crawl into their bed, but not to
hide…to live. With her husband by her side, her children safe and cherished by
both their parents, it was all she needed. Their love was stronger than stone
and mortar and would shelter her through anything the world could toss their
way.

Astra readjusted the blanket around her infant son, not
sure what was more beautiful, his full round face or the late autumn sun
casting a net of gold on Eastlan’s pond.

“I want to hold him, Mama,” Lark stood beside Astra’s
chair and patted her brother’s head.

“Wouldn’t you rather take the boat out with your father? We
will not likely see another day as fine as this until next spring.”

Lark tucked the blanket around Astra. “I want to be with
you in case you need anything. You are not well yet.” Lark laid her head on
Astra’s shoulder.

Astra lifted the edge of the blanket. “Here. Crawl under
with us. Pretend to be my baby girl for a little while.”

“I’m not a baby,” insisted Lark, but she nestled beside
Astra on the fainting couch a servant had carried out to the gazebo.   She claimed
she did not remember anything that happened the night Wesley had drugged her,
but Astra thought differently. Lark still had nightmares, but she no longer
spoke of fairies or trouble-causing spriggans.

“You’re in the Times again,” Astra’s mother yelled, waving
the paper.

Nothing else but juicy scandal would have persuaded her
mother to traverse the gardens to reach the gazebo. She’d hated it when she and
James had insisted dinner be served there all summer long. Lady Phillina on the
other hand loved the ritual, complaining when the evening chill finally suspended
the practice.

Her mother came around to stand in front of Astra, a twirl
of colorful skirts swishing in her wake.

“A certain Lady K,” she read, “the same Lady who was at the
center of the trial—”

“Mother,” Astra interrupted. “Neither Lark or myself
engage in gossip.”

Her mother glanced up, seeing Lark snuggled in the
blankets. “Oh, hello, lovey.”

“I want to hear what the paper said about Mama.”

“Well…” Astra’s mother cleared her throat. She braced her
hand on the hip of her striped gown of vibrant lime and burnt orange.

Astra gave her a warning look. Wesley had only been tried
for attempted murder and kidnapping, to which there had been numerous
witnesses. The punishment would be the same even if Wesley had been convicted of
murdering Lowell, and since Wesley had no choice but to plead guilty, it seemed
the most efficient avenue for swift justice. Though the circumstances of Lark’s
birth had been kept out of the trial, what was said in the drawing rooms was a
different matter. Luckily, the lurid love triangle painted between she, James
and Wesley proved titillating enough. Astra kissed her son’s forehead, smiling
to herself because she wouldn’t alter a single thing.

“Well, it just says that…here, I’ll read. Lady K stopped
all tongue-wagging by delivering the heir to the barony, William Lowell Keane,
on the eighteenth of November, exactly eight months and three weeks after her
surprise marriage to her late husband’s American cousin. White’s reports that
wagers leaned heavily toward the Lady’s chastity and have caused quite a bite
in the gaming house’s bank.”

Astra brushed back her son’s thick pale hair, grateful
William chose to stay in his cozy womb two weeks longer than expected, despite
the fact she thought the extended labor would kill her.

“And that’s all.” Her mother winked, assuring Astra there
was indeed more.

“I hope Lady Phillina did not see it,” said Astra. Astra
had tried to discuss with Lady Phillina the things that were sure to be made
public, but she’d refused to hear it. She’d declared nothing would change her
opinion of Astra.

“Astra?” James’s voice boomed across the garden. He strode
into the gazebo waving a letter of some sorts. “Fifty kegs of Ale!  Thirty
cases of wine!  Are you mad?”

Ah, the libation for the celebration had arrived. “Eastlan
has not thrown a Yuletide feast in over five years. I thought you agreed that
it should be festive.”

Much of his bluster melted when he spied his children. He walked
toward them and touched Lark’s cheek with the pure love of a father, then
lifted his son from Astra’s arms, delight shining in his blue eyes. “Who the
hell are you inviting?”

Lark giggled and covered her mouth. James’s wasn’t
supposed to swear in front of Lark.

“Sorry, Birdie.” James used his nickname for Lark, making
her giggle again. “Let me start again. Who are you inviting exactly who would
drink so much? Blackmore won’t come and he drinks whiskey anyway.”

“Yuletide is for the tenants. The village. To thank them
for all they do for us. To gather together before the dark months give way to
spring.” Astra studied her husband. She saw that he’d clawed at his cravat and his
tied hair, leaving both loose. And ruggedly sexy. His properly tailored
breeches and waistcoat somehow seemed to reform to his spectacular physique,
wrinkling and catching at all the hard planes of his muscular body. Keeping him
pressed and formal was impossible. Which suited Astra since she’d fallen
hopelessly in love with his casual charm.

“Oh, all right, then,” James relented. “Make sure the
Bainbridges are invited. He’s pleased with his profits from the last voyage and
we might double it if we can commission another ship.” James returned their son
to Astra’s arms. “I think the wind’s picking up. Ready for a sail, Lark?”

Lark gave Astra a worried glance but leapt off the lounge
chair when Astra nudged her in the ribs. Her daughter took James’s hand and
Astra choked back the well of emotion that wet her eyes so Lark would be sure
to feel free to enjoy herself. James strode across the lawn to find their small
skiff at the pond’s edge, Lark skipping beside him to keep up.

Astra’s mother plopped down beside her and rested her arm
on the chair’s cushioned back. “I told you he’d be worth the risk of a bit of
improper behavior. Sometimes it’s good to be bad.”

“You know, Mother”—Astra reached out and gripped her
mother’s hand—“for once, you are absolutely right.”

Darien and Ivy’s
story continues The Pleasure Series in

SECRET PLEASURES.

First ruined by circumstance and then by
choice, Ivy Templeton wishes nothing more than to retire from notoriety as one
of London’s most well-paid courtesans. Unfortunately, neither Georgian society
or her ex-fiancé, Darien Blackmore, will let her forget her past. Though Ivy
prays Darien doesn’t believe the rumors that she ended their engagement to
become his father’s mistress, she can’t deny her longtime liaison with his
former friend. Since Darien has become a drunk and a recluse, Ivy suspects he
has heard every torrid thing whispered about her.

When Darien learns of his father’s engagement to a girl
young enough to be his granddaughter, Darien hopes to stop the wedding. He
persuades Ivy to join him in his quest, letting her believe she could somehow
atone for their bitter breakup. Knowing he might never be able to forgive her,
he also has never stopped loving her. Once he has Ivy back on his family
estate, nothing will stop him from keeping Ivy or discovering the secrets his
father desperately wants kept silent. If only the truth Darien longs to uncover
doesn’t become the one thing that will keep he and Ivy apart forever.

Available on Amazon
October 2012

Look for Cheryl’s other titles
to be available in digital format late 2012

The power of female friendship played a huge part in this
book ever getting written. Thank you to the Wednesday Morning Borders Critique
Group for getting me through some grueling years. I don’t know what I would
have done without your encouragement and support. So many of my close writing
friends read original versions of this book and many revisions after. Thank you
Ara Burklund, Ann Collins, Lorelle Marinello, Sylvia Mendoza and Janet
Wellington for all the time you put into setting me straight. Thank you Judy Duarte,
Chris Green, Mary Leo and Cathy Yardley for always having an encouraging word
when I needed it. And a huge thanks to Romance Writers’ of America San Diego
Chapter.  What an amazingly supportive and warm group!