In the Garden of Temptation (18 page)

The earl shoved his hands in his pockets and
stared at his feet. He felt like a lad who had been taken behind
the stable and rightfully chastised. He was crestfallen.

Lady Richards reached out and placed a
sympathetic hand on his arm. “Adam, I’m not making a judgment, I
swear. But no matter what happens, being an influential man you
will come out of it unscathed. It won’t be that easy for
Catherine.”

He sighed and ran his fingers through his
hair. “I was so happy to see her, I just didn’t think. You will
continue to sponsor her, won’t you?” he asked anxiously.

“
Of course, but I can’t
create miracles. If you don’t behave, all is lost. So it is agreed,
the public displays will cease.” It was not a question.

Lord Ashworth nodded curtly and bowed to the
lady. “Forgive me for making this little chat necessary. Catherine
is waiting on the balcony, and I would be grateful if you’d go to
her.” At the door, he turned and paused. “I meant what I said,
Charlotte. This is not a passing fancy. For good or ill, I intend
to see this thing through to its end. I have no choice—I’ve not
been in love before.”

*****

“
Sims, do not mistake the
maid. Edna is her name.” The earl passed the folded piece of paper
to his valet.

“
My lord, I can assure you,
this missive will not fall into the wrong hands,” Sims
said.

“
See it does not. The
repercussions could be dangerous.”

Sims sniffed his disapproval.

Aware of his man’s distaste for the business
at hand, he ignored the valet’s attitude. The situation was
worrisome enough without having to soothe the ruffled sensibilities
of a reproachful servant.

Adam had not slept in nearly thirty-six
hours. He came home from the party the previous evening exhausted,
but try as he might he was unable to sleep. He tossed fitfully for
most of the night before abandoning the effort. Crawling from the
rumpled sheets, he paced the floor until daylight mercifully ended
his torment.

He still could not fathom how he had come to
disclose his feelings for Catherine to Lady Richards. Why, he’d not
even been able to admit as much to Catherine—or himself, for that
matter. Somehow it seemed when Charlotte had put the question to
him, Adam knew for the first time what dwelled in his heart. With
that knowledge came a tidal wave of hopelessness.

Hell and be damned!
Was the most important issue in his life to be
reduced to an exercise in frustration? Catherine was amenable to an
affair, and that would ease some of the immediate craving he felt
for her. But he didn’t like the subterfuge. And in the long run, a
few clandestine meetings would not satisfy his less earthy
needs.

Catherine wanted to know if he liked her.
Lord, what a question. He envisioned bringing her home as his wife,
with all the pomp and ceremony that entailed, and enshrining her in
the bridal suite. Could there be any doubt he liked her? Was the
painful ache in his chest whenever he thought of her a physical
sign of his devotion?

Adam had wasted little time once the sun had
drifted over the horizon in making the necessary arrangements for
his meeting with the baroness. First he had to procure a room in an
inconspicuous yet respectable part of town. The jangle of heavy
coins was persuasive insurance that the landlord would hold his
tongue. With Lady Richard’s strictures the preceding evening, that
particular detail had taken on added importance.

Now that he had begun to fit together the
pieces of his little scheme, the earl was anxious that no problems
should arise. He was irritated at Sims for passing judgment, for it
nudged the guilt Adam was trying to suppress. Rather than think on
the right or wrong of what he was doing, he focused on what could
have been had fate taken a more satisfactory turn.

One other reality put the matter into
perspective. In the past when he formed a bond with a woman, there
were financial matters to consider. Now the only thing being
wagered was an emotional ante, and that made the stakes much
dearer.

And so Adam’s thoughts continued to taunt him
as the hours passed into dusk. Tonight would not be the night, he
thought miserably, and he wondered how to endure the wait. As he
had done countless times that day, he began to pace.

With the last vestiges of daylight ebbing,
Adam decided that sitting at home and festering was a futile
occupation. He forced himself to dress for the evening.

There came a light tap at the door and Sims
entered.

“
Sims, where have you been?
I’ve worn a path in the carpet waiting for your return.”

The valet’s attitude was impassive. “These
things take time, my lord.”

“
Did you make contact with
the maid?” the earl asked impatiently

“
Yes, my lord, but it took
some finessing to get the deed done.”

“
Explain
yourself.”

The valet inhaled a deep, stoical breath and
began his tale. “A description of the woman would have been
helpful.” He paused as if to emphasize his criticism. “Since I had
none, I found it necessary to approach every serving girl who
emerged from the Bourgeault residence.”

“
My God, man, you weren’t
indiscreet, were you?”

Sims drew himself up, plainly offended. “My
lord, I hope I have never given you reason to doubt my
discretion.”

Adam sighed. “Please, forgive me, but don’t
keep me in suspense any longer. If you knew the strain I’ve been
under, you’d put me out of my misery.”

“
My lord,” the servant began
on a more conciliatory note, “I took the stable boy with me. I
stayed well out of sight and allowed him to do the prospecting.
Every time a maid left the Bourgeault mansion, our boy called
Edna’s name. Eventually his ploy was successful because a young
woman turned and answered him. Apparently, this Edna had been told
to expect your missive, for she came immediately when the lad
beckoned.”

“
What if Edna had not chosen
today to make a foray into the outside world?” Adam asked on a
smile.

“
Then I assume, my lord, I
would be making a repeat visit to find Edna tomorrow,” came the
valet’s dignified response.

“
At the very least.” The
earl chuckled. “Tell me, was there a message?”

“
Yes, my lord. The
communique
is a verbal
one.”

“
Proceed.” Adam’s heart
began to thump expectantly.

“
Tonight at ten o’clock
would be a convenient time. The lady asks that the carriage wait
for her around the corner—”

”
Tonight?” the earl
interrupted excitedly. “Are you certain she meant tonight?” He
grabbed Sims by the arms, beaming at the man in delighted
anticipation.

The valet politely disengaged himself from
his lordship’s eager grasp and pulled at the front of his coat,
restoring his disheveled countenance. “It would seem Lord
Bourgeault is indisposed this evening and the lady is free to go
abroad.”

“
Was this part of the
message?”

“
Not exactly, my lord,” Sims
said dryly. “Miss Edna is quite the talker when she warms to her
subject. She detests her master and does not hesitate to say as
much. Evidently, the baron follows a pattern. Lord Bourgeault is a
habitually heavy imbiber, but on occasion he will drink copious
amounts of alcohol over many hours, possibly days, and then sleep
for an equal number of hours or days.”

“
And…?” Adam
pressed.

“
And,” the valet continued,
“the baron began drinking yesterday. This afternoon he became
unconscious and was taken to his bed by his man. He is not expected
to awaken until late tomorrow at the very earliest.”

“
Wonderful! Best news I’ve
heard all day. Come, we have some plans to finalize.”

*****

Catherine stood at the top of the staircase
to the servants’ entrance and adjusted the veil covering her face.
Dressed in a nondescript ensemble of varying shades of brown, she
hoped her clothing adequately disguised her aristocratic heritage,
preventing unwanted attention. Of course, the hour being late, she
was in danger of being accosted simply because she was a female
alone. Pray the carriage was waiting at the designated location,
she thought. Drawing in a deep breath, she made her way down the
stairs and into the night.

*****

A door at the far end of the corridor closed
on the darkened hallway. The spy turned to his employer. “She’s
gone, my lord.”

The oppressive gloom of the chamber hid the
occupant who lay in a brandy-induced fog on the massive bed. “You
are positive it was she and not a maid?” Lord Bourgeault’s
tremulous voice croaked plaintively, slicing through the blackness
of the room.

“
Aye, my lord, it could be
no other.”

Silence followed Willie’s confirmation, and
the servant tiptoed lightly across the plush carpet to stand over
the prostrate baron. Curious, he opened his mouth to speak, but
shock caused the words to stick in his throat.

Drink had forced his master to slumber, but
Lord Bourgeault’s ravaged face told a story of secret grief.
Moisture pooled in the hollows of the baron’s shuttered eyes and
dripped salty tears from the edges of his lids onto the pillow
cradling his head.

Willie, though not a man given to the finer
feelings, was of a sudden overcome by a surge of pity. He walked
across the room to retrieve an old rocker. Retracing his steps, he
placed it near the head of the bed. He settled himself into his
seat, sighing in regret at his selfless act, and prepared for a
night of sleeplessness as he stood watch over his stricken
lord.

*****

CHAPTER 7

“
For God’s sake, man, would
you hurry? I’m already thirty minutes late.”

Lord Ashworth stood at the edge of the street
next to his disabled carriage. His impatience was growing steadily
with each passing minute as his coachman tried to reattach the
wheel that had lost its hold on the axle and gone spinning several
dozen yards down the road.

“
Beg pardon, Lord Ashworth,
but I’m working as quickly as I can,” grunted the harassed
driver.

“
I know, Shivers—carry
on.”

The earl stepped into the busy avenue to hail
a hackney, and for the first time in recent memory there was none
to be had. One vehicle after the other rolled past him and not one
was a rented transport.

“
Bloody hell! She’s going to
think I’ve forgotten her.” Adam walked back to the carriage,
expletives spewing from his tongue like water off a hot
griddle.

Shivers straightened and stared at his
master. “My lord, I’m impressed.” The coachman grinned and doffed
his cap.

Acknowledging his indecent verbal skills, the
earl smiled wryly. “Ahem…right you are.”

“
I have an idea, my
lord.”

“
And that would be…?” Adam
asked, ripe for any suggestion that would speed him on his
way.

“
Take one of the horses.
I’ll repair the wheel and rig the equipage so one horse can get the
carriage home.”

“
It can be done?” The earl
looked at his servant in sudden hope.

“
Don’t see why not. Be a bit
clumsy, but I’ll manage.”

Adam cast a sidelong glance at Shivers. “I’ll
have to ride bareback.”

The coachman smirked. “That could be a
problem, I suppose. I can give you a leg up if you think it would
help, my lord.”

“
Blast your old hide!” Adam
laughed aloud. “I can manage. I like your idea—let’s get to
it.”

*****

No one was about as Catherine approached the
door at the far end of the dimly lit hallway. She knocked once and
then again, but her summons went unanswered. Reaching into her
reticule, she blindly searched the contents. She withdrew a key,
given to Edna by the earl’s man, and placed it into the lock with a
hand that shook.

Her breath whooshed through her mouth in
relief as the key slipped the bolt and the door slowly opened
inward. Catherine stepped over the threshold and the magic of
another world washed over her, soothing her with the warmth of
welcome.

The baroness was not given to fancy, but at
that moment she was consumed by a sense of tranquility. She sensed
peace in this room, and it beckoned like a siren in the mist. Given
another time and other circumstances, undoubtedly it would have
been just a room. But for her, for now, this was her Eden and that
seemed miracle enough.

Someone had been there preparing for her
arrival. The lamps were lit and the counterpane on the bed had been
pulled back. A small table laden with covered dishes was ready for
a midnight supper. Her only real complaint was the blaze in the
fireplace, for the sultry evening was too warm to support the added
heat. She moved to the window and threw the shutters wide in an
attempt to cool the stuffy apartment.

She turned back to the room. Adam had not
arrived yet, and she was uncertain how to proceed without him.
Catherine glanced at the valise she had left by the door.
Embarrassment warmed her face as she thought of the nightdress she
had hastily stuffed into the small leather bag. Somehow bringing
the lingerie seemed so, well…premeditated.

What a foolish notion, she thought, since she
hadn’t come here to play a game of whist. Yet it was hard to dispel
the inhibitions. Her fall from grace on her previous “outing” with
the earl might be forgiven on the grounds nothing illicit had been
intended. But she could hardly plead spontaneity when, in the
future, she reflected on this evening.