In the Garden of Temptation (11 page)

He groaned as he sat up and swung his feet to
the floor. Sitting on the side of the bed, he willed himself to
stand and prepare for his departure. He wanted to deny his
reluctance was related to anything but a poor night’s rest, but an
arousing vision of the baroness, naked to the waist in the
moonlight, played havoc with his imagination.

Damn!
He shook his head to clear his brain and ran his fingers
through the thick waves that had fallen onto his brow. Best of all,
he mused ironically, he still had the baron to face.

Adam might have felt better about himself if
he suffered some guilt over having made a cuckold of his host, but
his conscience refused to cooperate. The baron did not deserve to
call Catherine his wife, and rather than contrition, the earl was
grappling with anger over the inequity of her situation.

She deserved better, much better. Adam had
actually pondered the likelihood of freeing Catherine from her
marital prison. Hours of mental finagling as the night crept by had
served only to discourage his ambition. Divorce was out of the
question, for the baroness would be a societal pariah if she became
involved in anything that unsavory.

What is it about human nature that, when
faced with the inevitable, insists on forestalling fate? he
wondered. Catherine was bound to another, and unless her husband
expired—now there was a cheery thought—she would remain in that
union. No amount of compromise or pleading or threats would alter
that fact.

Yet as the earl finished his morning
ablutions and packed his few belongings, he continued to argue for
the possibilities. That there weren’t any did not deter him. It
seemed an impossibility that the one woman for whom he had acquired
an overwhelming passion would always be beyond his reach.

Adam wished Catherine had not exiled herself
to her room during his departure. Perhaps they could have stolen a
few moments together. And if not, he would at least have had the
pleasure of seeing her lovely face while he ate his breakfast.
Instead he had the not-so-pleasant task of keeping the baron
company for the first meal of the day. His hunger disintegrated at
the thought.

When Adam reached the dining room, the baron
occupied his usual position at the table, but apparently he had
finished eating. He sipped on what looked like a watered
brandy.

“
Ashworth, I’d given up hope
you meant to join me.”

“
Morning,” Adam said on his
way to the sideboard. “To be honest, I didn’t sleep as well as
expected.”

“
I trust it wasn’t the
accommodations.”

There was a nasty edge in the baron’s voice,
and Adam turned to look at him.

“
I may be late this morning,
Bourgeault, but it’s still too early for innuendo. If you have
something you wish to say to me then please do so.”

A pregnant pause ensued as the baron studied
his guest over the rim of his glass. “Didn’t mean to suggest
anything in particular. Just hoped your lack of sleep did not have
a specific cause that could be attributed to me or,” he paused,
then continued in a sly voice, “possibly my wife.”

Adam knew this much—the baron was suggesting
something, and he sensed the man was enticing him into making a
misstep. He would have paid a pretty penny to discover Bourgeault’s
game, but he suspected getting his host to open up would be like
trying to extract a back tooth from a wild boar—best not to bother
for it can’t be done.

“
Your wife has been a
gracious hostess as I’m sure you know. You, on the other
hand—you’ll forgive me if I don’t mince words—are one of a
kind.”

Bourgeault grinned. “I will assume your words
are a tribute to my uniqueness,” he said congenially.

The baron did have one remarkable quality,
Adam thought. He could take an insult better than most. The earl
chuckled as he commenced to eat.

Silence permeated the dining hall, the only
sound disturbing the quiet being the clink of Adam’s fork against
his plate as he finished his meal. He glanced up to see the baron
eyeing him pensively.

The earl raised his eyebrows in question. “Do
you have something you wish to discuss with me?” he asked
innocently.

Bourgeault leaned forward and placed his
empty glass on the table in front of him. He was irritated if the
twitching muscle in his right cheek was any indication.

“
Did you not lead me to
believe, Ashworth, that by this morning you would make a decision
regarding my livestock?” His voice was tight despite an obvious
effort to remain at ease.

“
Yes, I did,” Adam
concurred.

“
Well?”

“
Bourgeault, let me give you
a piece of advice. Take those ponies off the action block or you
are going to lose them. Some fool will come along who must have
them regardless of the price, and you’ll be honor bound to sell.
They are that beautiful and I am tempted to tell my good sense to
go to hell. Today you are in luck. No matter how much I desire
those horses, I cannot bring myself to pay your price.”

The baron’s shoulders slumped in relief, but
his next words were belligerent. “You still insist I didn’t wish to
sell?”

“
I am certain of
it.”

“
Has my wife said something
to lead you to this conclusion?”

An odd inflection colored the baron’s voice,
putting every nerve in Adam’s body on alert. A blunder here could
prove costly, if not for himself then certainly for Catherine.

“
Really, sir, Lady
Bourgeault and I talked only of mundane matters. After all, we’ve
only just met. There would be little reason for us to discuss the
complicated issue of what motivates her husband.”

Adam hoped he conveyed an attitude of
nonchalance. Just how much had his host guessed?

“
Ashworth, let us be
perfectly clear with one another. Yesterday I allowed you to put my
grays to the reins with the idea I might sell them, reluctantly, I
admit.” He stopped, and his eyes narrowed as if to emphasize his
next words. “Without my permission you also put my wife to the
reins, symbolically speaking, of course. Make no mistake,” each
word was a measured rap, “Lady Bourgeault is not for sale, either
reluctantly or otherwise.”

The earl was
astounded.
The man knew!
Adam could deny everything, but intuition warned
him to face his accuser by counter-attacking.

“
You’ll understand if I’m
confused, sir. Your treatment of your wife leaves a great deal to
be desired and, frankly, it appeared you simply didn’t
care.”

“
Appearances can be
deceiving,” the baron bit out.

“
Now that we have
established my lack of understanding, I want to know how Lady
Bourgeault will fare once I’m gone.”

“
I owe you no
assurances.”

“
Nonetheless, I would
consider it a favor if you would put my mind to rest where the
baroness is concerned. I dislike the idea that I might have caused
her trouble.” The words were unthreatening enough, but the earl
inserted a deadly quality to his voice that left no doubt as to the
import of the request.

As Adam saw it, the baron had a choice.
Probably the man’s first inclination was to tell the earl to take
his request and put it in a dark bodily place. That was the most
satisfying course of action but not the wisest. Adam had power and
influence and many friends. To cross the Earl of Ashworth might
cost the baron more trouble than the temporary pleasure of defiance
would be worth. The baron’s next words proved Adam’s theory.

“
My wife,” he said
grudgingly, “will never know this conversation took place.” He
sighed. “I’m not unaware of my shortcomings as a husband, and I
don’t blame her for yearning after greener pastures. But fact is
Catherine is still lawfully married to me. Though my attitude may
seem cavalier, I can promise it is not.”

And with that the earl had to be satisfied.
Because no matter how much he wished it were otherwise, one
inalterable fact remained—Catherine was this man’s wife.

Adam took his linen napkin and dabbed his
mouth. “Well then, I see no point in prolonging our adieus. It has
been an interesting two days, Bourgeault. You will, I hope, send my
regards to your wife.”

Considering what the baron insisted he knew
of the previous forty-eight hours, this last could be perceived as
a slight. It occurred to Adam to voice regret for his conduct, but
it would have been an insincere apology at best, and he found he
could not bring forth the required words.

It didn’t matter, really. The baron had
apparently chosen to ignore all but the fact his guest was ready to
depart. He stood and bowed slightly, though he did not offer his
hand.

“
I think it’s been a
learning experience for us both,” he said.

The earl rose from his chair as well. “It
didn’t go quite the way either of us planned, did it? Yet, I must
say, you had a head start on me. I’ve been in the dark from the
beginning.”

“
Perhaps it has never been
more than it appears.”

“
Absolutely, sir. And
perhaps Napoleon is secretly a spy for Mother England.” Adam
laughed aloud at his own absurdity as he made his way from the
dining hall. He stepped into the entry and was surprised to find
his bag and coat. This good riddance gesture was not lost on him,
and he shook his head in disbelief.

“
Lord, I’m glad to be
leaving this place,” he muttered under his breath as he let himself
out the door.

He circled around the front of the castle to
the stables in back, but his thoughts were centered on the lovely
woman in an upstairs room who could not escape her oppressive
existence. Whether he wished it or not, part of him would remain
with her once he left.

*****

Edgar watched his guest leave with equal
parts acrimony and relief. He slumped down in his chair and rapped
out an agitated tattoo on the tabletop with his bony fingers.
“Willy!” he roared. “Bring me a brandy and none of that damned
watered rubbish you served earlier.”

The servant scurried to do his master’s
bidding. “My lord,” he offered timidly as he placed the decanter at
the baron’s elbow.

“
Willy,” The baron said
morosely, splashing a generous portion of the potent liquid in his
glass, “I may have overplayed my hand.”

“
No, no, my lord,” Willy
hastened. “He’s leaving, ain’t he? I mean, he can’t do no harm once
he’s gone, can he?”

The baron stared at the little man in
disgust. “The only fool greater than you is I. The idiot has a
conscience. Why could he not simply have done his dirty deed and
left without making a fuss?” he wondered petulantly. “That’s how
most men would have handled it. He actually had the temerity to
challenge me.”

He drained his goblet and smacked it against
the surface of the table. The sudden impact caused the stem to snap
and a sliver of glass lodged in his index finger.

“
Bloody hell!” he bellowed
as he brought the wounded finger to his mouth. “What if I have to
take her to town? How will I control the situation
then?”

Willy looked nonplused. “Maybe it would be
best to find another bloke, one that don’t pose such a threat.”

“
Balderdash. I suppose
you’re going to say one fellow will do as well as another. My
wife’s developed feelings for Ashworth, and that adds a whole new
element to the affair. Do you realize how long it has taken me to
get this far? No,” he said in weary resignation, “I’m in too deep.
I’ll just have to see this little game to its end and hope I’m not
the one who ends up getting burned.”

*****

Adam entered the stable yard and Billy
greeted him. Since the earl was carrying his bag, one could assume
he was ready to depart. The obvious did not stop the young servant
from posing the question anyway.

“
I say, milord, are you
leaving?”

“
Yes, boy, it would seem so.
Are you helping Mr. Brown today?”

The youth nodded.

“
Could I get you to ready my
horse?”

Billy nodded again then trotted toward the
barn. As Adam watched the boy retreat, his gaze lit on Brown who
was leaning against the doorframe of the stable, observing the
proceedings. The earl approached the groom.

Brown straightened in the doorway, his
attitude wary as the earl neared. Adam came abreast of the man and,
in an unthreatening manner, placed his hands behind his back. He
cleared his throat before speaking.

“
Brown, I detect
considerable hostility directed toward me from you and everyone on
the estate. Only young Billy there has been unaffected. I’m at a
loss as to why.”

“
I don’t know what you
mean.” The groom’s gaze dropped as he sidestepped the
question.

“
Come on, my good man. I
don’t consider myself the sensitive type, but I’ve been treated
with more courtesy by those who dislike me.”

A long silence ensued while Mr. Brown seemed
to ponder how to respond. However, once he made up his mind, he
wasted little time getting to the point.

“
It’s my mistress. Us here
at the castle, we don’t like the way she’s treated.”

“
Go on.”

“
It’s not just the baron.
That smarmy little servant of his is just as bad.”

“
He is unpleasant,” the earl
agreed.

“
And the baron’s always
bringing these men to visit. For what purpose, I don’t know ‘cause
he don’t spend time with his company. Instead, he makes my poor
lady dance attendance on them. I can’t tell you how often I’ve seen
the baroness purely mortified by some witless clod what thinks he’s
got the right to insult her. Worst of all,” the groom said
indignantly, “my master seems to encourage the whole
thing.”