One Sinful Night (17 page)

After all, it was what she excelled at.

Wasn't it?

However, when he saw her dancing with Jackson Harlow, he could stand no more. The sight of Harlow's scheming hands on Vivienne's body, that beautiful body Aidan had made love to only yesterday, made him insane. To see Vivienne's pretty smiles and laughter in response to Harlow's blatant overtures only increased his torment. He wanted to punch someone, namely Harlow.

Vivienne could not become involved with Jackson Harlow. She simply could not. He wouldn't allow it. He shouldn't care what happened to her, but unfortunately he did. He felt responsible for her welfare, especially after yesterday. The girl had no idea the type of man she was flirting with. Harlow certainly did not entertain honorable intentions toward her. He would ruin her and destroy her spirit.

Only this morning he had received a dispatch from Daniel Grayson that he had finally found a witness that linked Harlow to his warehouse fire. And that witness was willing to talk to them. Aidan planned to attend to that first thing Monday morning when he returned from London.

There had been bad blood between Aidan and Harlow since Kavanaugh Enterprises won a substantial contract over Harlow Shipping International. Aidan definitely had not imagined the mysterious string of “bad luck” that plagued his company since that incident. He and Grayson suspected that Harlow and his double-crossing brothers were the responsible parties, for their company had a reputation for dirty dealing, but they had a difficult time coming up with some solid proof against the Harlow family. But at last it seemed they finally had it.

Any man who would have a warehouse burned to the ground, risking the lives of the people inside just to promote his own financial and business success, had no scruples. Besides he had heard unsavory tales about Harlow's many affairs with married women. Aidan ought to at least warn Vivienne away from Harlow. She deserved that much from him, especially after he behaved so badly with her. He could not allow Vivienne to fall into the hands of a man like that.

Vivienne.

He had been shocked by the undeniable passion that ignited between them. Crazy and reckless. Completely irresponsible. Aidan knew better than to behave that way. Vivienne at the very least deserved an apology from him for accosting her in a closet. He had treated her like a wharfside doxy. But wasn't that what she was? Oh, she denied it of course, but he didn't believe her…With his own eyes he had seen her with another man when she was promised to him.

She was not to be trusted.

Ever again.

Yet he could not take his eyes off her. He could not help thinking about her. He wanted to talk to her, confide in her again. He could not help wanting to be near her, to touch her, to kiss her. To make love to her again.

Instead Aidan had danced his obligatory dance with Helene Winston, afterward escorting her to the dining room, and he suddenly knew what was wrong. Everything he did with Helene seemed
obligatory
. Where with Vivienne he felt wild and reckless. He felt free. And at the same time he felt at home when he was with Vivienne. But this time he could not trust her again.

Could he?

His stomach knotted and his jaw clenched thinking about Vivienne. The Duke of Bingham's bar beckoned to him as a way to drown his feelings for her, to obliterate them with alcohol, but he did not want to go down that hell-bound path as his father had.

“Are you feeling well, Aidan?” Helene asked, obviously concerned about him, her pretty face drawn and worried. “You don't seem to be yourself this evening.”

“I'm just preoccupied with some business matters,” he responded noncommittally and gave her a false smile.

As she stood looking up at him with questioning eyes, Aidan felt remorse over his behavior. Helene did not deserve this careless treatment from him. She was a lovely woman and should be with a man who had true feelings for her. He'd seen her dancing with Gregory Cardwell earlier and she seemed to enjoy herself. There was a dreamy expression on her face that he had never seen before.

Perhaps there was a chance she felt the same obligatory feelings toward Aidan and would actually prefer to be with someone like Cardwell.

The more he thought about it, he realized it was quite possible that Gregory had feelings for Helene. Recalling the way Gregory rescued Helene in the lake the other day, Aidan was amazed he had not recognized it sooner. Yes, Gregory would make Helene happy in a way that Aidan never could.

Whereas Aidan needed to find a woman who could make him forget about Vivienne Montgomery. There had to be someone who could make him stop thinking about her, and unfortunately he knew it was not Helene. But as a gentleman, he also knew he had to set her free.

“Helene, may I speak with you privately?” he asked her.

“Of course, Aidan,” she responded, her delicate brows raising slightly at his unusual request.

She followed him from the crowded ballroom and they stepped inconspicuously into an empty drawing room. He left the door partially open for propriety's sake, and faced her, removing his black mask. A few flickering lamps burned in the quiet room. Helene removed her mask as well, looking pretty in her pale yellow ensemble, but he could not help but notice how she lacked Vivienne's vivid coloring.

“I'm sorry, Helene…” Aidan began somewhat awkwardly. “I know there has been an ‘understanding' between our families for some time that you and I would eventually marry. I would just like to apologize to you, for I have not been the most caring or considerate suitor to you.”

Helene merely nodded her head in acceptance of his words.

“In fact, I have been a terrible suitor—”

“Oh, no, Aidan, don't say that,” she protested politely.

“Let's be honest, shall we? I respect you too much and consider you too lovely and too special a woman to waste your time on me…You deserve much better than I can give you, Helene, and I don't wish for you to feel obligated to me by our families' wishes.”

She was silent, her hands pressed together tightly.

“What I'm saying is—”

“I understand perfectly what you are saying, Aidan,” she interrupted him with a soft voice. “That I am free to choose another.” Her clear hazel eyes met his. He saw the strength and determination within her and that surprised him. “And so are you…”

He responded gently, nodding his head. “Eventually, perhaps.”

She asked, “Does this have anything to do with Miss Montgomery?”

“In some respects, yes.”

A small sigh escaped her. “Thank you for being honest with me. And to be perfectly honest with you as well, I must say that I feel relieved that we have ended this arrangement.”

“Thank you, Helene.” He sighed in relief at her calm acceptance of the situation. He had half feared hysterics from her. “I shall speak to your parents now and inform them that we have both decided that we do not suit. I am not deserving of your kindness, but, for what it's worth, you shall always have a very indebted friend in me.”

She smiled ruefully and extended her hand to him. “And you in me.”

He took her hand and kissed it tenderly.

Giving him one last bittersweet glance, Helene retied the ribbons of her mask. “Good night, Aidan.” She turned gracefully and left the room, and Aidan felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

Now he would take care of Vivienne. He would make his apologies to her for his reprehensible behavior in the portrait gallery yesterday and warn her of the dangers Jackson Harlow. He owed her that much at least. Then with his conscience cleared, first thing in the morning he would leave Bingham Hall and his past, and begin his life anew. Without Vivienne Montgomery.

Susana Kavanaugh worded the note purposefully, choosing each word with consummate care, her eyes glittering in anticipation. The servant was given precise instructions on exactly when to deliver it to Mister Jackson Harlow. Timing would be critical on this. Once again, her entire plan hinged on perfect timing.

Tonight would be the night she ruined Vivienne Montgomery permanently and the miserable witch would be gone from her son's life once and for all.

Susana was no fool. She noticed the look in Aidan's eyes when he saw Vivienne. She knew what it meant because she had seen that same look before. Ten years ago. Aidan was still in love with the Irish harlot, as much as it pained her to admit it. And just how he could be in love with the likes of Vivienne Montgomery when Helene Winston was clearly his for the asking, frustrated and angered her. If only her son had better sense!

Last night during the musicale had been the final straw. Seeing Aidan's face while Vivienne sang that maudlin love song, made her ill, physically sick to her stomach. Having their Irish background flaunted before everyone, when Susana had worked years to downplay that very aspect, left her shaking with rage. It was too much to endure. Aidan simply could not get involved with that woman again!

Vivienne Montgomery had been a thorn in her side for too long. From the moment Susana met the little baggage, she did not like her. Even as a child, with her long black hair and fair skin, Vivienne had an uncanny witchiness about her, as if she could see right through Susana's exterior. Vivienne's changeable blue eyes unsettled her and her very manner felt disrespectful. That little Irish girl, in her threadbare clothes, had always comported herself as she if she were Susana's equal! The impudence! Susana didn't care for the old grandmother either and blamed her as the reason Vivienne ran wild. Imagine allowing a little girl to play and run around with a boy as if she were a boy! But Aidan had been fascinated by the two of them, wanting to spend every minute in their dilapidated little house. And her imbecile of a husband allowed and even encouraged their outlandish friendship!

Then, that pivotal summer, Vivienne blossomed into a temptress, artfully and cleverly casting a spell over Aidan until the poor boy lost all the reason and good judgment Susana had fostered in him over the years and proposed to her. Anyone could see that Vivienne did not really love Aidan and only wanted to better her station in life with Aidan's title and wealth.

And here they were again.

Drastic times called for drastic measures. She could not sit idly by while her precious son ruined his life by asking that woman to marry him again. She had to take action. She had to save him from himself. As she had ten years earlier. What mother wouldn't protect her son from the clutches of the wrong woman? And Susana prided herself on being a good mother. In fact, she was an excellent mother. Aidan would thank her someday for saving him.

Now Susana needed only to wait and time her appearance perfectly. Through her own cleverness and Glenda Cardwell's assistance, Vivienne's true nature would be her undoing. By this time tomorrow, Vivienne Montgomery would be out of Aidan's life forever.

 

As the masked ball drew to a close and guests were either leaving Bingham Hall or retiring to their rooms upstairs, Glenda Cardwell acted according to Lady Whitlock's specific instructions. She went to her mother to complain of an illness.

“Oh dear, Glenda, what is it now?” Gwen Cardwell murmured, looking at her daughter in distracted despair.

“I said I'm not feeling very well.” Glenda placed her hand over her stomach and groaned as if in terrible pain. “I think I may be sick.”

“Did you eat something spoiled? I'd wager it was that salmon,” Gilbert Cardwell declared loudly. “I thought it tasted funny.”

“Perhaps that's what it is, Father. I did have some salmon at supper. And now my stomach…” She grimaced to show her anguish. “Mother, I don't wish to be alone tonight. Might I stay with you and father?”

“Aren't you a little old for that?” Gwen asked uncertainly as she touched Glenda's forehead to test for a fever. “You don't feel warm, but you do look a bit sallow.”

“Mother, please. I want to be with you for a little while,” Glenda pleaded with a whimper. She just had to be in her parents' room tonight. “It would comfort me.”

“Well, I suppose you could come to our room and rest for a spell.”

“Thank you, Mother. I truly don't feel well…” Glenda moaned with a bit more drama than before.

“Come then. Let's go upstairs to bed. I'll have Lizzie fetch your nightclothes from your room and we'll get you some chamomile tea.”

Lord and Lady Cardwell did not see the sly smile on their daughter's face as she turned to follow them up the grand staircase of Bingham Hall.

 

As he was on his way to meet Annabelle Worthington for their nightly tryst, a little mobcapped maid hurriedly handed Jackson Harlow a note. She bobbed a quick curtsy to him and ran off without waiting for a reply from him. Feeling slightly annoyed as he broke the wax seal and unfolded the thick paper, he assumed it was from Annabelle canceling their encounter. Surprised to find that Annabelle had not penned the note, he read the elegantly scripted words with mounting curiosity.

Jackson stood in stunned amazement. The note was unfathomable! The silly chit just invited him to her bedroom! What could she possibly be thinking? The note surprised him because he hadn't picked up that signal from her. Vivienne was an innocent as far as he could tell, not the type that invited men to her bedchamber for an illicit romp in the sheets.

The note could only mean that she was in some sort of dire predicament. Although what could have happened in the few hours since he last danced with her at the ball to warrant such a drastic message, he could not imagine. The note did bode well in that she trusted him enough to ask him to help her with something that obviously worried her. And that was a good indication of her feelings. For lately he'd been doing a great deal of thinking about the lovely Miss Montgomery.

She would make a perfect wife for him.

She came from a good family and had a substantial dowry settled on her by her uncle. Aside from her undeniable beauty, it had been her smart, witty nature and complete lack of guile that attracted him to her in the first place. Not only did he find her incredibly desirable physically—and his unfailing male instinct told him Vivienne would be an unrestrained lover in bed with the right man—but he actually enjoyed the time he had spent with her. And if he married her he would have unlimited access to that luscious body of hers anytime he wanted. A little icing on the cake there. Best of all, marrying her would make stealing from her completely unnecessary, for all that she owned would become his.

She must have the deeds somewhere in her possession and it was only a matter of time before he found them. He'd do just as well to marry her and then the papers would belong to him legally.

Making Vivienne his wife would just kill his brother, too. Jackson would own the mines outright, and Miles wouldn't be able to touch them. Then Jackson could leave the infernal shipping business that he had hated his whole life. Davis and Miles could fight it out for control of their father's failing company. He'd have the money and a beautiful wife, and his brothers would be saddled with a bankrupt business. He was done with being their disrespected, undervalued little minion. He deserved more out of life than that and he aimed to get it.

He would visit Vivienne tonight and move the relationship along.

Jackson smiled with satisfaction as he continued down the corridor and made his way to his room. Annabelle would join him shortly, which would work out perfectly. He could have Annabelle first to take the edge off his growing desire for Vivienne before he went to Vivienne's room. Decidedly, he would have to play the gentleman with Vivienne, even if she were hot for him.

Intrigued by the mysterious note, he wondered what could possibly be so urgent that Vivienne would summon him to her bedchamber. That she would risk having him there only demonstrated her desire for him. The girl wanted him, but it was a hugely dangerous thing for her to do for if he were caught in her bedroom, he would undoubtedly be made to marry her. Which, of course, would only speed up the process and further his cause anyway. It would not be the way he would choose to marry her, under the shadow of a scandal, but it would serve his ultimate goal and he would attain her, regardless of the circumstances. And in a lot less time. It seemed to be a win-win situation.

And winning Vivienne Montgomery was all that mattered to him now.

He whistled gleefully as he entered his bedroom.

 

“What are you doing here?” Vivienne demanded in surprise later that night when Aidan knocked on her door. She had not been able to fall asleep and the late night visit from Aidan startled her. She stood with her hand still on the doorknob. “Won't your spotless reputation be tainted in my presence?”

Ignoring her barbed comment, he glanced past her inside the bedroom. “Is Glenda with you?”

“No. She's not feeling well and is spending the night with her parents in their room.”

“It's good that she's not here,” Aidan said. “I wish to discuss something important with you.”

His eyes flickered over her and she realized she was clad only in a nightgown, her bare toes peeking from beneath the delicate pink material. Suddenly feeling self-conscious, her chin went up. “Well, I don't wish to speak with you. Now please leave my room.” She motioned to close the door on him, but he braced his arm between the door and the wall, pushing it wide open and shoving her out of the way.

“I'm not leaving until I speak my peace. This is important, Vivienne, and you need to listen to me very carefully,” he said, ignoring her outraged glare and striding past her into the pale yellow and rose bedchamber as if he owned it.

“I don't have to listen to you at all.” Who did he think he was, storming into her bedroom of all places, in the middle of the night? But she swung the door closed behind her and turned to face him, her face alight with anger. “Especially after yesterday.”

“It is exactly because of yesterday that I am here, Vivienne. I have two things I need to tell you.”

She stared expectantly at him, waiting, her hands on her hips. He was still wearing his evening clothes, although his shirt collar was unbuttoned, giving him a roguish appearance that was immensely attractive. His black hair, usually so neatly combed, was slightly tousled, forcing her to curb a ridiculous desire to run her fingers through its thickness. Dark emerald eyes glittered at her behind a purposeful expression, his sensual mouth drawn in a stern line. He seemed taller and more imposing than he usually did, perhaps because she felt undressed and vulnerable in just her bare feet and simple cotton nightgown.

Aidan's voice was low but his words were rushed, “First, I want to apologize. I behaved abominably yesterday, and I'm sorry for losing control in the portrait gallery and for hurting your feelings.”

“That's very noble of you, Lord Whitlock,” she muttered sarcastically, crossing her arms over her chest. “What's the second thing?”

He gave her a hard look, obviously annoyed by her airy dismissal of his apology. “What are your intentions with Jackson Harlow?” he demanded heatedly.

“What business is that of yours?” she snapped back, stunned by his question. So Aidan had noticed her dancing with Jackson Harlow earlier that evening. She felt oddly satisfied by that thought.

“You know exactly why.”

“Jealous, are you?” She arched an eyebrow at his remark.

A brittle laugh escaped him. “Hardly.”

If he wasn't jealous then what could it possibly be? Irritated with his possessive attitude, she asked, “What do you want from me, Aidan?”

“I want you to listen to me,” he said with a deliberateness that unnerved her. He spoke his next words slowly and clearly, “Stay away from Harlow.”

Vivienne shook her head in disbelief. He really had nerve to come to her bedroom in the middle of the night and think he could order her about. “You cannot tell me what to do. I don't belong to you anymore, Aidan. Remember?”

“And you belong to Jackson Harlow now, is that it?”

“What if I do?” she challenged him, her hands on her hips. His fists clenched and she knew he was angry with her.
Are you angry or jealous, Aidan?

“I am telling you not to become involved with him. He's not the man you think he is.”

“And you are?” she scoffed at him. “I don't suspect Jackson Harlow is the type who would seduce me in a closet and then humiliate me afterwards.”

Aidan actually flinched at her words. “That was different…And this isn't about me—”

“This is all about you, Aidan. That's the only reason you are here right now. You obviously don't want me, but apparently you don't wish for anyone else to have me either.”

There was a moment of silence in which they regarded each other warily. She could not help but think that he wanted her yesterday. And she had wanted him. They both knew it.

“This has nothing to do with us,” Aidan began grimly. “I see the way Harlow looks at you. I saw the two of you dancing together tonight. He wants you, but I forbid you see him anymore.”

“You forbid me?” she echoed him with incredulity. She would have laughed at the absurdity of such a statement if she weren't so incensed by his meaning. “You forbid me? How dare you forbid me to do anything?”