One Sinful Night (4 page)

“Well, you should have been.” She gave him a fierce look. “Don't you become involved with her again.”

He let out a breath of exasperation. “I have absolutely no intention of doing that.”

“Well, you had better not. She's a witch, that one. Mark my words. She hurt you once, Aidan. She could do it again if you let down your guard.” Susana pointed a long finger at him.

“Believe me, Vivienne Montgomery is the last woman I would want to become involved with again.”

Susana seemed to relax slightly at that, but she was not about to end her little tirade. “What terrible luck to run into her. Why didn't she stay in Galway where she belongs? She'll probably tell everyone that she knew us in Ireland too. As if we needed reminders of that dreadful time in our lives.” Susana turned up her haughty nose in complete disgust, as if smelling something offensive. “Do you think she means to cause trouble for you?” Her keen eyes glanced suspiciously around the room, as if Vivienne Montgomery could be there plotting their humiliation at that very moment.

Confused by her question, Aidan found himself defending Vivienne. “What would she possibly have to gain by making trouble for me, even if she could?” He neatly stacked the deck of cards, lining the edges up precisely, and set them down on the table.

“The girl is a common trollop. She was nothing but trouble then and I've no doubt she's even more trouble now. She could easily ruin your engagement to Lady Helene. The only probable reason she's here in the first place is to ruin you.”

Surprised by that comment, Aidan asked, “Why would you say that?”

“Really, Aidan!” Susana uttered in complete frustration. “Don't be a simpleton. Of course the girl harbors ill will toward you! You broke off your engagement to her.”

It was difficult to imagine that he had ever wanted to marry Vivienne at all, knowing what he knew about her now. Somehow that still stung. Yet, unable to bear his mother's contentious complaints about Vivienne, Aidan abruptly stood.

“You've got it wrong, Mother. She broke off the engagement with me, remember?” He turned and strode from the room, leaving his mother with a stunned look on her face.

Vivienne laughed impetuously at the bawdy limerick Gregory Cardwell had just whispered to her. “You boys really shouldn't tell me such things,” she said, still giggling about the young man from Kew and what he could do. It did have quite a ring to it.

“You love it when we tell you such things. And you have to admit, it was a good one!” Gregory grinned mischievously.

Vivienne, smiling, nodded her head in agreement. She sat in the massive drawing room of Bingham Hall in an overstuffed leather chair with a twin bordered on each arm. It was late afternoon and most of the houseguests were out walking or resting before supper. The three of them had been whispering so the elderly baron dozing in the corner would not hear them.

“You have a remarkably good sense of humor, Vivvy, that's why we like you so much,” George declared gallantly, his reddish hair rakishly flopping over one eye. “That and you are a pleasure on the eyes.”

The pair of them were quite handsome in a healthy, outdoorsy way; reddish hair, ruddy complexions with freckles sprinkled across strong, manly features, and the Montgomery blue eyes. They were virtually identical and most people had difficulty distinguishing between the two, but Vivienne could tell them apart. Aside from the fact that George had slightly more freckles than Gregory, Vivienne could hear the difference in the timbre of their voices.

“You are much more fun than our sister,” George said. “Glenda never likes our jokes.”

Gregory promised wickedly, “If you are a very good girl, I'll tell you another one later.”

Vivienne laughed helplessly. The Cardwell twins had taken her on as sort of a mascot. They regarded her somewhere between a little sister and a comrade. By turns they were teasing and admiring, treating her like a child and then as the grandest lady, protecting her vehemently from any sort of trouble. They entertained her with bawdy jokes, taught her to drink champagne, said irreverent things to make her laugh, and instructed her in the proper use of expletives. One day they laughed themselves senseless when Vivienne turned the tables on them and taught them the only Irish swear word she knew. Gregory and George adored her and she adored them in return. They were like a pair of lovable dogs, innocently getting into mischief, but so loving, loyal, and endearing, one had to forgive them any transgressions.

Vivienne was quite unused to such innocent and brotherly male attention and enjoyed every minute with them. The twins had made her feel like family the instant she arrived on their doorstep. After so many years alone in Ireland with only her elderly grandmother for company, she delighted in being part of the boisterous Cardwell clan.

“Now that's enough for today, you two,” Vivienne scolded them with a smile. “I can't bear to listen to any more of your limericks.”

“Hullo, children!” the Duchess of Bingham called as she approached the trio on the arm of a well-dressed gentleman.

Vivienne had liked Jane Havilland immediately, for the Duchess of Bingham had warmly welcomed her into her home and into her extended family with a cordial and generous manner that immediately made Vivienne feel accepted. A vivacious and witty blonde, Lady Bingham was an impeccable hostess with a flair for entertaining whose social invitations were always in demand, and anyone who was anyone coveted invitations to her parties.

“Aunt Jane, you look as beautiful as always,” Gregory said with a wink, as both he and his brother jumped to attention.

“Don't put on airs with me, Gregory Cardwell, I've known you since you were in swaddling clothes. But tell me I'm beautiful anyway!” She laughed, and her eyes danced in merriment. “Now behave yourself, boys. I'd like you to meet the very nicest gentleman, who is a friend of my dear friend, Lady Swansea. This is Mister Jackson Harlow, of London. Mister Harlow, these two redheads are my brother's twin sons, Gregory and George Cardwell. And this lovely creature is their cousin, Vivienne Montgomery, so therefore she is related to me somehow but I don't know the technical terms. I just have her call me Aunt along with the rest of them. My sister-in-law Gwendolyn is Vivienne's father's sister. Can you follow that little family tree?” The Duchess of Bingham's laughter was light and airy as she spoke.

“Without any trouble at all,” said Jackson Harlow smoothly. He shook hands politely with Gregory and George, but his demeanor changed completely when he smiled winningly at Vivienne. He bowed with an elegant gesture and declared, “It is an absolute honor to meet you, Miss Montgomery.”

“Thank you, Mister Harlow.” Vivienne studied him closely, for his name intrigued her. He was a handsome young man, of that there was no doubt. With his tawny blond hair and light brown eyes he had the looks of a golden god come to life. Taller than the twins, he possessed a sense of muscular strength beneath his finely cut and fashionable suit. His eyes were intelligent and his smile quite charming.

The Duchess of Bingham placed her petite hand on Gregory's sleeve. “Now you three, I need you to play host for me, since Richard is out riding with Gwen and Gilbert. I'd like you to introduce Mister Harlow around.” She turned gracefully to her guest. “I'm not abandoning you, dear Jackson, it is just that there is some commotion in the kitchen about tonight's supper menu that I must deal with straightaway.”

Jackson Harlow responded, “I'm certain I can manage well enough in such good company.”

“Are you sure you trust us with him, Aunt Jane?” George asked with a wink.

“Not entirely,” she called over her shoulder as she walked away, “but I do trust Vivienne.”

The boys laughed raucously.

“Is this your first visit to Bingham Hall, Mister Harlow?” Vivienne inquired as the twins' laughter subsided.

“Yes, this is the first time I have had the honor of an invitation, although I have known the Duke of Bingham for many years,” Jackson stated.

George said, “We practically grew up here, didn't we, Greg?”

“Yes, and we always had fun hiding on Aunt Jane. There are so many secret staircases in this house, she could never catch us.” Gregory laughed at the memory.

“Did you visit here often as well, Miss Montgomery?” Jackson Harlow asked, his gaze lingering on her.

“No. I've only just come to England recently. Although my father was English, my mother was Irish, so I was raised in Ireland.”

“You hardly have an accent. One would never guess.” He smiled at her, showing even, white teeth.

“We've been training her,” George explained easily. “It's a good thing she's an excellent mimic. But we would have forgiven the Irish accent anyway, because she's so pretty.”

“I must agree with you, Cardwell. Miss Montgomery is the most stunningly beautiful lady I have ever seen.”

Vivienne felt self-conscious under the scrutiny of such an attractive man. “Now, now gentlemen, you must not talk about me as if I were not present.”

“Were we doing that?” Gregory teased, an innocent look on his face.

As she smiled at the three charming gentlemen standing in front of her, her senses suddenly tingled and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. She knew without a doubt that Aidan Kavanaugh had entered the room.

She turned her head slightly, to see past Gregory, and there he stood. Lord, but he was devastatingly handsome. His powerful, firmly muscled body strode into the room with a confident grace. His jet-black hair was combed back, accentuating his aquiline nose and the inherent strength in the masculine lines of his face. His emerald green eyes were hooded, searching the room, and his sensuous mouth was fixed in a tight line, as if he were displeased about something.

Feeling her heart race, she rose from her chair. After last night's disastrous encounter she had no desire to see or speak to Aidan again anytime soon.

“Shall we go for a walk in the gardens now?” she suggested brightly to the others.

“I would be honored to walk with you, Miss Montgomery,” Jackson offered with a gallant smile, extending his arm to Vivienne, which she accepted gratefully.

“George and I shall let you two go on ahead,” Gregory said with a broad wink. “We'll meet you in the rose garden.”

Vivienne would have laughed at Gregory's obvious attempt at matchmaking if she were not so anxious to escape Aidan Kavanaugh's presence. But it was too late, for Aidan had walked directly toward them.

“Aidan, you look like the very devil!” George blurted out with a laugh. “What happened to you?”

“Nothing,” Aidan said through gritted teeth, apparently annoyed by the question. “I'm fine.”

“If you say so,” Gregory conceded with a knowing grin. “Have you met Mister Jackson Harlow?”

“The Earl of Whitlock and I have met on many occasions,” Jackson said smoothly. “In fact, we have done some business together. It is good to see you again, Whitlock.”

“Oh, Aidan's going to talk business now,” George yawned mockingly.

Vivienne watched as Aidan took in the scene before him. His face registered surprise. Whether at seeing Jackson Harlow or seeing Vivienne on his arm, she was not sure which. On closer inspection he did look terrible, as the twins had so gleefully pointed out to everyone. His eyes were heavy, and he seemed a little bit green around the gills.

Vivienne looked from one handsome man to the other. Although both were quite taller than average, muscular, and fit, side by side they were a striking study in contrasts. Even in his current state of health, Aidan's tall, dark, and handsomely seductive looks left her a bit breathless. Then there was the golden-blond beauty of Jackson Harlow, which had a sensual allure of its own. A girl would be hard-pressed to choose which was the more attractive of the two. Fortunately, it was not a decision she was required to make.

“Good afternoon, Miss Montgomery,” Aidan said coldly, sparing her the briefest of glances with his amazing green eyes. “I didn't expect to see you here, Harlow.”

Jackson Harlow explained affably, “I just arrived here this morning. Before I left London I was sorry to hear about the fire at your shipping warehouse, Whitlock. That was a tremendous loss for you. A terrible misfortune.”

Vivienne was surprised to discover that Aidan had acquired some sort of shipping business, although she knew it had always been a dream of his to own one. He used to spend hours talking to her father whenever he was in port, questioning him about all aspects of the shipping industry. It was one of the reasons she had loved Aidan. He had wanted to work, to contribute something and to be productive in the world, when he certainly didn't need to earn his living. Most young men of his age and class, like her cousins, were content with idle pursuits and thought working in trade beneath them. Aidan had always been different that way.

Well, it seemed that Aidan's childhood dreams had finally come true.

“Yes, the fire was a great calamity.” Aidan's brow furrowed in response.

Harlow asked casually, “Do you know what caused it?”

“They are still searching for the cause.”

“You mean to say that it is being investigated?” Jackson's eyes widened slightly.

“Of course. Wouldn't you conduct an investigation if it had been your warehouse that burned to the ground in the middle of the night?” Aidan asked, looking intently at Harlow.

Jackson nodded heartily in agreement. “Certainly I would.”

“It is the only logical course of action.”

“What do you expect they will find?”

“That remains to be seen, doesn't it?” Aidan answered. “It was most fortunate that no one was injured or killed.”

“Yes, good thing,” Harlow said. “Although a loss of that magnitude must have set you back quite a bit financially. If my company can do anything to help you, please let me know.”

Aidan's tone hardened. “I don't think we'll be needing your help, Harlow.”

“We were just going to walk in the gardens to give Harlow a tour about the place. Care to join us, Aidan?” George offered, breaking the sudden tension.

Aidan cast a disapproving glance over the two of them. Vivienne noticed his eyes lingering on Jackson Harlow's hand on her arm. “No, thank you.”

“You two go on ahead. We'll catch up with you shortly,” Gregory said.

“Best of luck with your investigation, Whitlock. Well then, we shall see you later,” Jackson responded with a casual attitude. “If you will excuse us…”

Vivienne left the room escorted by the handsome Mister Harlow, sensing a palpable tension between him and Aidan. Immensely relieved to remove herself from that curious state of affairs, it occurred to her that she had not uttered a single word to Aidan. So, it was to be cold civility while speaking to each other as little as possible, was it? At least now she knew what the rules were for surviving the week with him. Feeling oddly out of sorts with the entire exchange, she resolved to put Aidan out of her mind.

 

Aidan watched Vivienne leave with narrowed eyes. It was quite apparent that Vivienne could not be bothered to acknowledge his presence. He still felt like hell and so far the afternoon's events had not eased the pounding in his head. After his meeting with Daniel Grayson about the warehouse fire and Jackson Harlow's involvement and listening to his mother's irrational fears about Vivienne Montgomery, discovering the two causes of his current agitated state of mind going for a walk together was a bit of a shock.

“What is Jackson Harlow doing here?” he asked, not able to mask the irritation in his voice. As much as he distrusted Vivienne, he could not ignore the uneasiness he felt at the idea of her in Harlow's company.

“He's a friend of Uncle Richard's apparently. Just met him. He seems a decent fellow though,” Gregory answered smoothly, a bit surprised by Aidan's attitude.

“You just met the man, yet you let him escort your cousin about unchaperoned?” Aidan questioned impatiently.