One Sinful Night (8 page)

And, even more perfect,
she
was attracted to
him
.

He was far too experienced with the fairer sex not to see the signs that Vivienne was quite taken with him. She practically fawned over him in the rose garden that afternoon, flirting like a schoolgirl. The incredible part was that she had come to him first, asking about her father. The fact that she wanted his help finding her father made it ridiculously simple. He would have a lovely time with her, for she trusted him already. And he would be more than able to finagle the right information out of her and obtain the papers he wanted.

It was a remarkable coincidence that he ended up with the Earl of Whitlock, his prime business nemesis, and Vivienne Montgomery, his intended quarry, both in the same house. He laughed aloud and then drew another long breath on the cigar.

The Earl of Whitlock, he scoffed to himself in derision. Ever since his brother Miles had suffered from an attack of apoplexy last summer, Jackson had taken over most of the responsibilities of his family's shipping business and the sainted Earl of Whitlock had become a thorn in his side. That spoiled, entitled, do-gooder, thinking he was so much better than everyone else. He was so blasted wealthy, the man didn't even have to work! Yet he usurped the long-standing trade routes that had belonged to Harlow Shipping for decades, causing them to lose a fortune in revenue.

Jackson hated Whitlock for everything he was and everything Jackson wasn't. Jackson hadn't been raised with a silver spoon in his mouth and had been required to work in his family's business—even though he hated shipping and everything to do with it—or be thrown out on the streets without a shilling by his father. And there was the pampered Earl of Whitlock, coming along on a whim and taking hard-earned business away from people who had no choice but to toil for a living.

But he had finally managed to put Aidan Kavanaugh, the mighty Earl of Whitlock, and his infernal shipping company in their proper place after all. And just as soon as he got his hands on enough money, he would leave London and his brothers for good.

Which was where Miss Montgomery came into the picture. Jackson's life was finally heading in the right direction. Today had been so successful, he couldn't wait for tomorrow.

“Miss Montgomery, over here!” Jackson Harlow called across the lawn. With a toss of his head, he motioned to a blanket spread under the shade of an elm tree while his hands were filled with two crystal glasses.

Vivienne snapped her frilly white parasol shut and raced to the impossibly handsome blond man who beckoned to her with a winning smile. They had just finished a spirited game of croquet, which her team won, and she felt giddy with pleasure. Jackson Harlow had gone to fetch her a glass of fresh lemonade from the elaborately arranged picnic area on the north lawn of Bingham Hall.

It was a lovely day, warm and sunny with a light breeze, and the Duchess of Bingham had declared it Picnic Day. Everyone had been roused from the house early and made to bask in the glorious spring sunshine. Groups of people milled about, picnicking, playing games, chatting, and there was some talk of taking the boats out on the lake.

In high spirits and thoroughly enjoying herself, Vivienne reached the blanket and collapsed inelegantly upon the soft coverlet. Laughing, Jackson Harlow joined her, handing her a glass.

“Thank you, kind sir.” Vivienne accepted it gratefully, her white gloved hand absorbing the small beads of moisture on the surface of the glass.

He grinned at her as she sipped her lemonade. “You are most welcome, my lady. Although I would rather be drinking champagne with you under this tree.”

“Why, Mister Harlow!” She batted her eyelashes at him in an exaggerated manner. “I do believe you are flirting outrageously with me.”

Vivienne felt very pretty and utterly feminine in a pale pink and white striped dress. Silk ribbons in a darker shade of pink trailed daintily at the end of her short elbow sleeves and she wore an adorable white straw hat trimmed with more pink ribbons. It was one of her favorite gowns from the collection she had acquired after an extravagant shopping spree with Aunt Gwen when she first arrived in England. It was a flirtatious dress and she acted the part with surprising ease. Something she had never done before with such abandon.

“Because I am flirting with you,” he whispered decadently, his voice dropping low. “I have a decided weakness for flirting with beautiful ladies. And you, Miss Montgomery, are the loveliest one here by far. So you see, it's all your fault, my lady. You are preying upon my most dreaded weakness.”

She glanced at him playfully above the rim of her glass. “Am I really?” It was very satisfying to be in the company of a man such as Jackson Harlow and to have his complete and undivided attention.

“Most definitely.”

“How shall I end your misery then?”

“I'm afraid you cannot,” he said with a sly laugh, “and still remain a lady.”

Vivienne felt her cheeks turn scarlet at the implied meaning of his words. She had to remind herself that he was not flirting and teasing her in the same innocent manner that she was used to with the twins. This charming man belonged in another league of men all together and she needed to remember that.

“Judging from the look on your pretty face, I'm afraid I have offended you, Miss Montgomery. Please forgive my blundering foolishness.” A solemn and serious expression appeared on his handsome face. “I assure you that was not my intention.”

Wanting to return to the easy bantering they had enjoyed all morning while playing croquet, she nodded her head and smiled. She did not want to put him off, especially after he had agreed to look into the matter of her father's disappearance next week in London. He was quite possibly the last link she had to her father. Besides, she really did think him charming. “Mister Harlow, I am positive you had no intention of saying anything in the least to offend me.”

He simply said, “Thank you.”

Vivienne gazed up at the bright green leaves on the tree above her. The light breeze rustled them gently. It was quite beautiful outside, and she was having a lovely time at Bingham Hall. With the exception of interacting with Aidan. She briefly scanned the lawn for a glimpse of him, but did not see him any longer. He had not joined in their game of croquet, but watched them from the sidelines. She caught him looking at her a few times, but he had kept his distance from her, and after their awkward exchange the night before, she was grateful.

After the disastrous parlor game, Gregory had cornered her on her way upstairs to ask what had happened between her and Aidan in Galway. She explained very little and rushed off to bed. But her cousins and new friends were not oblivious, and they surely suspected there was more to her and Aidan's acquaintance than appeared on the surface.

“You play a determined game of croquet, Miss Montgomery,” Jackson interrupted her thoughts.

Vivienne glanced back at him with a sly smile. “Is that a compliment?”

“Of course. It was a pleasure being on your team. I admire a competitive spirit and you are a girl who plays to win.”

“Hmm. I suppose I do sometimes. It depends on the game. Do you like winning, Mister Harlow?”

“That is something you should know about me, Miss Montgomery.” He leaned in close to her and whispered, “I always play to win.”

“And do you always win?” she asked with the strangest feeling that he was referring to something quite specific, and not just a picnic game.

“Always.” He moved back from her and she exhaled, realizing she had been holding her breath.

Intrigued by his words she questioned him, “What about playing for the fun of it? For simply enjoying oneself?”

“I am not talking about a mere game of croquet. I am referring to winning life in general.”

“What is it that you hope to win?” She stared at him, puzzled by the predatory gleam in his eyes.

“Everything I want.”

“Be careful what you wish for, you might just get it.”

“What made you say that?” he asked, his expression curious and intent on her.

“I don't know,” she laughed lightly. “It's something my grandmother always said to me growing up and I was never sure what it was supposed to mean. Isn't that the only reason we wish for things? To get them? But as I grew older, I eventually began to appreciate the meaning of wishing wisely.”

“And what do you wish for now, Miss Montgomery?”

She stated clearly, with no hesitation, “I wish to find out what really happened to my father.”

He tilted his head to one side and looked at her carefully. “Then I have the power to grant that wish for you. But again, remember your grandmother's words. Your wish may come true, but you may not like what you learn.”

“I am well aware of that, Mister Harlow. It is the very fact of
not knowing
that is unbearable to live with. I have already been told that my father is dead. There is nothing I could learn about how he died that would be worse than knowing I will never see him again.”

“I understand that feeling, which is why I am more than willing to help you. As long as you understand what the possible outcomes are. Tell me, what do you know of your father's last voyage? Was there anything unusual about it that you can recall?”

She shook her head. “It seemed just like all his others.”

“Did you hear from him during the voyage?” Jackson paused for a moment, then asked, “Did he send you anything before he disappeared?”

“Yes, he did. With the last letter I ever received from him, he sent me a beautiful jewelry box of carved wood and ivory. He always sent me things from his travels that he thought I might like.”

“Did he mention anything in the letter that something out of the ordinary or unusual was happening?”

Vivienne hesitated. She wanted this man's help, but something held her back, preventing her from telling him what her father had written her in his last letter. Unsure what kept her from divulging the contents of that letter, she trusted her instincts. At least for now, she would wait. She would reveal that information if she thought it necessary, until then she would bide her time.

“No, he wrote nothing unusual, just that he missed me.”

“I'm sure that was the truth,” he said staring at her with intense brown eyes.

Vivienne smiled gratefully at Jackson's thoughtful remark.

“Well, we shall see what, if anything, I can discover when I return to my offices in London. In the meantime, you must try to recall every fact he mentioned to you from his last voyage. Even the smallest detail might be of importance.”

Vivienne agreed to try but felt a little pang of regret at not telling him about her father's strange words regarding the box.

“Hullo!” Gregory called out to them, as he came sauntering over the grass with George, Helene Winston, and Sarah Atwood.

Their conversation thus interrupted, she and Jackson Harlow greeted the others.

“Are you ready to go out on the lake?” George asked enthusiastically. “Aunt Jane is having the boats prepared now for those who wish to row out and have a picnic on the other side of the lake.”

“Oh, that sounds like fun!” Vivienne exclaimed. “Let's all go, shall we?”

“Anything for you, Miss Montgomery,” Jackson declared. He stood and helped Vivienne to her feet, while she brushed the bits of grass from her dress.

As they made their way down to the dock, they joined Lord Harry Gardner, Wesley Lawrence, and Victoria Atwood. Vivienne was disheartened to see Aidan already waiting there for them. Well, at least she had successfully avoided him for most of the day. Looking darkly handsome in his buff-colored breeches, crisp white shirt, and bottle-green coat, he stood taller and broader than any of the other gentlemen. The unusual brooding look on his face had finally disappeared, and he seemed relaxed, his green eyes cool. She did not relish having a picnic with him.

They learned that in all there were four small rowboats: two boats that held three passengers each and two that held only two passengers. If more than ten people wanted to journey to the other side of the lake, it would have to be done in shifts. With the addition of Jackson Harlow to the group that played games together the night before, their total reached ten.

After much discussion, it was determined that Lord Harry and Wesley, and George and Aidan would take the two smaller boats with the picnic supplies out first, while Gregory and Jackson would row out the four ladies, and then come back for any others who wished to join them. As they settled into the wooden boats, which were painted in crisp colors of royal blue, cherry red, bright yellow, and leafy green, bursts of laughter and girlish squeals punctuated the spring air.

Aunt Jane admonished them to behave, but to have a good time, and waved at them from the dock.

Vivienne rode in the bright blue boat with Lady Helene and Jackson Harlow, who moved them across the calm waters with long, easy strokes. It was a rather large, kidney-shaped lake. Once they made the turn they were out of view of the Bingham Hall dock and the sandy beached shore of their destination was almost visible.

Peering under the brim of her lace parasol, Vivienne observed Aidan rowing his little boat ahead of them, almost across the lake already. His tall, muscular figure impressed her as he rowed with a fluid, effortless grace. Once again they had not spoken to each other at all while on the dock, and she had been relieved she had not been placed in a boat with Aidan.

In fact, she had maneuvered herself to sit with Jackson Harlow and she did not think she imagined that Jackson was quite pleased with her choice. He had given her a winning smile when he assisted her into his boat. However, she would have preferred to be with either of the Atwood sisters, rather than Helene Winston. She felt uncomfortable in her presence, although she really could say nothing against the girl.

“Isn't this picnic a lovely idea?” Helene asked Vivienne with a shy smile.

She answered, “Yes. And it is a perfect day for it.”

“How did I get so lucky as to have the two most beautiful ladies in my boat?” Jackson said gallantly.

Surprised to see Helene roll her eyes at Jackson's remark, Vivienne grinned at her conspiratorially.

“Mister Harlow, do you think you could reach the other side before Mister Cardwell does?” Helene asked with an arch look as delicate wisps of her wheat-blonde hair wafted in the breeze.

“With one hand tied behind my back, Lady Helene.” Jackson grinned with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “Would you care to race, ladies?”

“Oh, yes!” Helene exclaimed excitedly. “But only if you win!”

“Oh, I'll win,” he declared, with a knowing look at Vivienne. “I always win.” He turned his head toward Gregory and called out, “The lovely ladies in my boat wish to race you to the other side, Cardwell.”

With his face breaking into a defiant grin, Gregory heartily agreed to the challenge. Instinctively, Vivienne snapped her parasol shut and instructed a perplexed Helene to do the same. She wasn't a sea captain's daughter for nothing.

“But why?” Helene asked, as she closed her yellow parasol.

“If they are open, they will create a drag on the boat,” she explained.

“Good thinking, Miss Montgomery!” Jackson praised as he exerted all his effort into rowing. His movements strong and powerful, their boat flew across the water.

A little thrill raced through Vivienne as their speed accelerated and she gripped the sides of the boat tightly. She faced backward, looking at Lady Helene and Jackson Harlow and had to turn her head to see where they were going. Now the two boats moved neck and neck, since Gregory quickly caught up with them. The girls were shrieking in delight and shouts of encouragement were heard across the water. Vivienne, filled with a growing sense of excitement, glanced ahead and could see the opposite shore. Lord Harry, Wesley Lawrence, and George and Aidan had already beached their boats, and having gathered that a race was under way, cheered them on loudly. Both men rowed fiercely; their speed increasing. Jackson's oars glided swiftly through the water as they pulled ahead of Gregory's boat.