Read Whisper To Me of Love Online
Authors: Shirlee Busbee
Whisper To Me of Love (16 page)
Brusquely motioning her to the chair in which she had been sitting, Royce lounged on the black damask sofa across from her. Somewhat gingerly Pip obeyed him, a wary cast to her face.
Royce grimaced at her stiff posture, her hands folded demurely in her lap, but he couldn't help noticing what a very pretty picture she made, her black hair and clear skin contrasting attractively with the red leather of the chair, the gray eyes clear and direct beneath their long, spiky lashes. Consideringly his gaze slid over the slim figure, and he frowned. He really was getting tired of that blue and white gingham gown. She needed more clothes....
Jerking his thoughts away from the disturbing images that flitted through his mind, he inquired softly, “Are you a good pickpocket?”
Still cautious, but relaxing slightly, Pip couldn't help crowing, “GuvnorâI'm one of the best!” She shot him a dark look. “You were just lucky when you caught me!”
Lazily Royce retorted, “Lucky is not precisely the word I would use to characterize myself these past days.”
Pip grinned, but for once, wisely kept her mouth shut. She didn't want to argue with him, and to her astonishment, she didn't want this conversation to end. Greedily she was storing up every moment of it, memorizing his handsome features, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, the way his beautifully sculpted mouth twitched with suppressed amusement when she said something particularly outrageous. Against her will, covertly her eyes traveled over the grace and suppleness of that tall, muscular body as he reclined indolently on the sofa across from her, and she was aware of an odd warmth seeping languidly through her slender body.
To their utter astonishment, they talked easily for several more moments, Royce encouraging Pip to tell him of her life in St. Giles, Pip convincing Royce to detail some of the differences he found between England and America. It was an odd moment in time, and Royce found himself rather annoyed when Chambers entered the room and disturbed the strange intimacy between them.
“Oh, sir!” he exclaimed, embarrassed. “I didn't realize that young Pip was here with you!” He glanced curiously at them and then asked uneasily, “Er, is there anything I can get you?”
The moment was shattered, and rising to his feet, Royce shook his head and summarily dismissed the butler. Annoyed with himself for allowing the little pickpocket to intrude further into his life, Royce glanced sourly at Pip, who had also risen upon Chambers's entrance. A sardonic twist to his mouth, he said cynically, “You had better report to Chambers immediatelyâyour advent into my life has caused enough gossip as it is, and I don't need to find myself the object of my own servants' tittle-tattle!”
Stung at his abrupt change, Pip retorted sharply, “You were the one who ordered me to sit down!”
“And it's probably the first damned order I've given you that you've obeyed!” Feeling the need to enrage her, to put some distance between them and the odd little intimate interlude they had shared so briefly, Royce added icily, “Before you cause me more trouble, please follow Chambers, and take your bloody dust rags with you!”
Pip was surprised at the shaft of pain that went through her at his cold words. “
You're
the one who caused all the trouble!” she retorted, trying to bide her bewilderment. “My life was just fine until you appeared in it!”
You're
the one who caused all the trouble!” she retorted, trying to bide her bewilderment. “My life was just fine until you appeared in it!”
“Oh?” he asked derisively. “You're eager for the life the one-eyed man has planned for you?”
Infuriated at the way he turned her words on her, she said rashly, “At least with him I wouldn't have to put up with the likes of you!”
Something snapped inside of Royce at her words, and stunning both of them, he caught her wrists in his hands and pulled her next to him. “Are you saying you
want
to become his mistress?” he asked, his voice thick with some savage emotion he could feel but not understand.
want
to become his mistress?” he asked, his voice thick with some savage emotion he could feel but not understand.
Frightened of the sleeping tiger she had roused, confused by the elation his reaction made her feel, Pip glanced away from the glittering golden eyes and almost whispered, “No. No. I don't want to be his mistress!”
That tempting mouth of hers was mere inches from his, and Royce felt his body stirring. His gaze locked on her rosy lips, he lowered his head to kiss her when Pip said in a very small voice, “I don't want to be
your
mistress either.”
your
mistress either.”
Royce let go of her, his face an icy mask. Pip didn't dally. In less than a second, she was out the door like a doe escaping from a tiger, a large, very hungry tiger....
C
HAPTER
9
HAPTER
9
T
he ride through Hyde Park proved to be enjoyable, although Royce was not precisely pleased when the Earl of St. Audries's friends, Rufe Stafford and Martin Wetherly, invited themselves to join them. He was even less pleased when the two men clung like leeches to the group and politeness forced him to invite them back to the house to partake of the light repast that Ivy Chambers had prepared in anticipation of several of the gentlemen accompanying Royce and Zachary home.
he ride through Hyde Park proved to be enjoyable, although Royce was not precisely pleased when the Earl of St. Audries's friends, Rufe Stafford and Martin Wetherly, invited themselves to join them. He was even less pleased when the two men clung like leeches to the group and politeness forced him to invite them back to the house to partake of the light repast that Ivy Chambers had prepared in anticipation of several of the gentlemen accompanying Royce and Zachary home.
The group consisted of perhaps fifteen gentlemen, including George Ponteby, Allan Newell, Francis Atwater, Stafford, and Wetherly, as well as several of Zachary's friends. Leland and Jeremy were naturally part of the group, but Royce was plainly astonished to see that young Julian Devlin had also been included. While all the others were busy serving themselves from the lavish buffet set out in the dining room, Royce cocked an eyebrow in Julian's direction and glanced questioningly at Zachary.
Almost shamefacedly Zachary murmured quietly, “He's not really a bad sort, you know. He can't help it if the Earl is his father!” Looking slightly apologetic, Zachary added, “You don't mind that he is here, do you?”
“Good Lord, no!” Royce said with a laugh. “I am just surprised, since when you last spoke of him, it was with great dislike.” A teasing glint in his eyes, he added, “And that must have been, oh, let me see, all of four days ago.”
Zachary grinned briefly. “The thing is, Royce, I thought he was a haughty bastard like his father, but he isn't.” Glancing around to see that the others were still preoccupied with the tempting delicacies spread out before them, his young face intent, Zachary said soberly, “Last night a group of us were carousing in Covent Garden when we accidentally crossed the Earl's path. St. Audries was extremely drunk and spoke very sneeringly to Julian. By God, I'll tell you true,
I
wouldn't have been able to prevent myself from striking out if
any
one, much less my father, had spoken to me in that insulting manner, but Julian behaved most admirably. When St. Audries could not provoke Julian to action, I guess he wanted to find someone else to annoy.” Zachary's mouth twisted wryly. “Unfortunately, he spotted me and launched into a vitriolic attack on Americansâyou and me in particular. It was all very ugly and embarrassing, but in a flash Julian interrupted his father and
defended
me! I was astounded, I can tell you, even more so later in the evening when he came up to me and apologized for his father's behavior.”
I
wouldn't have been able to prevent myself from striking out if
any
one, much less my father, had spoken to me in that insulting manner, but Julian behaved most admirably. When St. Audries could not provoke Julian to action, I guess he wanted to find someone else to annoy.” Zachary's mouth twisted wryly. “Unfortunately, he spotted me and launched into a vitriolic attack on Americansâyou and me in particular. It was all very ugly and embarrassing, but in a flash Julian interrupted his father and
defended
me! I was astounded, I can tell you, even more so later in the evening when he came up to me and apologized for his father's behavior.”
Thoughtfully Royce glanced across at the subject of their conversation. Julian Devlin was a son any man would have been proud to claimâtall, handsome, a charming manner about him, and from everything that Royce had heard, universally well liked by both the younger and older members of the ton. So what had this exemplary young man done to arouse his father's ire? Was it simply sheer cussedness on the Earl's part? Could the Earl possibly be jealous that his son enjoyed the admiration and acceptance that was denied to him? Or was it merely the differences of opinion and life-style that differentiate one generation from another? Somehow Royce didn't think it was as simple as that, and he found himself, as the afternoon progressed, speculatively glancing now and again at young Julian Devlin.
The group had long ago finished eating and had left the dining room and were at present scattered about the front salon, discussing what little news there was concerning Napoleon and the pitched battle that was certain to take place soon in Belgium. Since Napoleon's escape from Elba in late February, all of Europe had been closely monitoring the former French Emperor's movements. The representatives of the victorious allies, Russia, Britain, Prussia, and Austria, as well as members of a French delegation, had been attending the Congress of Vienna, where they had been trying to divide Napoleon's Empire amongst themselves; however, Napoleon's escape had vanquished all of their petty squabbling and they had been galvanized into action as they had been forced to hastily reassemble their armies to meet this new threat to peace.
By June, Napoleon's troops were already marshaled along the Belgian frontier awaiting his imminent arrival from Paris. The Prussian army, under Marshal Blücher, was poised on the lower Rhine, and the Duke of Wellington's headquarters were at Brussels. Since Wellington had no definite intelligence regarding Napoleon's movements, he was keeping various divisions of his army within easy distance of that capital. The stage was set for a great struggle; all that was needed was the appearance of the great man himself, Napoleon....
“Just think,” Francis Atwater said slowly, “while we are here calmly discussing the situation, Blücher and Wellington may be at this very moment fighting for their very lives against Napoleon.”
“Or,” Royce commented dryly, “Napoleon may have suffered his final defeat.”
A small silence fell over the room as the gentlemen considered both statements, then George Ponteby suddenly raised his glass of hock and said loudly, “To Wellington, may he thoroughly trounce the Corsican monster!”
There were murmurs of agreement from everyone, and each man drank to the impromptu toast. The conversation became less serious after that, some gentlemen proceeding to lay wagers on when the battle would take place, others putting aside talk of Napoleon and discussing the attributes of their tailors, their horses, or their mistresses, depending on who was talking.
Standing a little apart from the others, Royce idly studied the various men in his salon, his gaze pausing for a moment on the animated features of Julian Devlin as that young man argued with undisguised enthusiasm the merits of a particular horse he had just purchased at Tattersall's. Royce couldn't hear what he said, but it was obvious from the expression on the faces of Jeremy and Leland that they disagreed, while Zachary appeared to be seconding every word Julian uttered. Smiling faintly, Royce took a sip of hock, watching the play of emotions that crossed Julian's handsome face.
Royce was situated not far from the group containing Julian, and as he continued to watch him, Royce was struck again at how unmistakable were the Devlin features. Except for the obvious male and female differences, Julian and Pip bore an undeniably striking resemblance to each other. As they should, Royce thought wryly, considering that the Earl no doubt had sired them both. Yet there were subtle differences; the shape of Pip's face was entirely different, even though she shared with Julian the haughtily arched black brows and exotically shaped gray eyes, as well as the black, curly hair and the determined chin. Royce had first thought that he had overestimated Pip's resemblance to the St. Audries family, but having grown used to her face these past few days and now astutely observing Julian's corresponding features, he acknowledged that, if anything, he had
under
estimated their similarity. He hadn't yet decided how to use Pip's resemblance, but he was confident the answer would come to him when necessary.
under
estimated their similarity. He hadn't yet decided how to use Pip's resemblance, but he was confident the answer would come to him when necessary.
It was by now early evening, and Royce wandered over to his guests who were beginning to take their leave. Half an hour later, nearly everyone, including Zachary and his friends, had departed in search of other amusement. Only Ponteby, Newell, Atwater, and Wetherly remained in the salon, and it suddenly dawned on Royce that Stafford, who had been there not a second ago, was missing.
Instantly suspicious, albeit for no good causeâStafford
could
have left without taking his leaveâRoyce excused himself for a moment and stepped out of the salon into the main entrance hall. If Stafford was, as he suspected, still in the house, where would the man have gone? Royce glanced up the stairs, but then dismissed that ideaâit was unlikely that even Stafford could think of an excuse to seek out the upper portions of the house. Of course, the man may have left the room for no more mysterious reason than he needed to use the water closet, but Royce, his unease growing with every moment, doubted it. Deciding to take a quick look into the dining room on the slight chance that Stafford had merely gone in search of a bit more food, Royce crossed the hall and was on the point of opening the double doors that led to the dining room when he heard Pip's outraged voice on the other side. Immediately throwing wide the doors, Royce charged angrily into the room only to be brought up sharply by the scene that rapidly unfolded before his eyes.
could
have left without taking his leaveâRoyce excused himself for a moment and stepped out of the salon into the main entrance hall. If Stafford was, as he suspected, still in the house, where would the man have gone? Royce glanced up the stairs, but then dismissed that ideaâit was unlikely that even Stafford could think of an excuse to seek out the upper portions of the house. Of course, the man may have left the room for no more mysterious reason than he needed to use the water closet, but Royce, his unease growing with every moment, doubted it. Deciding to take a quick look into the dining room on the slight chance that Stafford had merely gone in search of a bit more food, Royce crossed the hall and was on the point of opening the double doors that led to the dining room when he heard Pip's outraged voice on the other side. Immediately throwing wide the doors, Royce charged angrily into the room only to be brought up sharply by the scene that rapidly unfolded before his eyes.
It might have been an accident that Stafford had returned to the dining room just in time to discover Pip clearing away the used dishes, or there may have been a more sinister motive behind his actions. At any rate, he
had
found Pip, looking very pretty in her blue and white gingham gown, a half-full tureen of carp soup in her hands. Apparently, after catching her arm, Stafford had proceeded, as best Royce was able to ascertain, to make her a most improper offer. Pip had reacted with characteristic aplomb.
had
found Pip, looking very pretty in her blue and white gingham gown, a half-full tureen of carp soup in her hands. Apparently, after catching her arm, Stafford had proceeded, as best Royce was able to ascertain, to make her a most improper offer. Pip had reacted with characteristic aplomb.
The carp soup sloshing dangerously, Pip's cheeks stained rosy with temper, her gray eyes flashing like summer lightning, she jerked her arm out of Stafford's grasp. “Why, you bloody bugger! Get your filthy hands off me! And I'd sooner lie in the gutter with a swineherder than to suffer
your
touch!”
your
touch!”
Even as Royce crossed the dining room, Stafford made the mistake of grabbing hold of Pip's shoulders and shaking her. “We'll just see about that, you haughty little bitch!” And oblivious of the soup tureen between their bodies, he crushed Pip's body next to his and brutally kissed her.
Royce had only covered half the distance of the room before Pip yanked her mouth away from Stafford's and, managing to escape his hold, proceeded to empty the contents of the tureen over his head. Stafford yelped and leaped back a step as the fine china tureen shattered when it hit the floor. Pip, however, wasn't finished with him yet. Taking vicious aim, she brought her knee up savagely between his legs, making him nearly double over with pain. “And
that,
” she snarled, “is to make certain that you don't make the mistake again of pressing your attentions where they most definitely are
not
wanted!”
that,
” she snarled, “is to make certain that you don't make the mistake again of pressing your attentions where they most definitely are
not
wanted!”
“And if you don't understand precisely what she means,” Royce added silkily, “I shall be happy to explain it further to youâafter I rip out your liver and have it for dinner!”
Both Pip and Stafford spun around at Royce's voice, but while Pip's face revealed her delight at his appearance, Stafford went pale and nervously mopped the remains of the carp soup from his face with a linen handkerchief. Hastily he said, “Nothing to get upset about, old fellow. Just a serving wench.”
Royce's eyes narrowed and he took a threatening step nearer to Stafford. “But you see, she is
my
serving wench! And I object strenuously to my servants having to put up with the likes of you!”
my
serving wench! And I object strenuously to my servants having to put up with the likes of you!”
“Oh, come now!” Stafford muttered. “Less than a week ago she was just some little pickpocket from one of the worst rookeries in London. But just so you don't misunderstand me, I am willing to pay you for her.” Smiling unctuously, he said, “Name your price and I'll take her away and you won't be bothered with her again.”
Royce's hands closed roughly about Stafford's starched cravat. “She isn't for sale! And if I ever catch you within a mile of her, I shall take great pleasure in personally severing every limb from your body.” Giving Stafford a powerful shake, he asked dangerously, “Have I made myself clear?”
“My dear boy,” drawled Ponteby from the doorway, “you have made yourself clear to
all
of us! Now, do please unhand the poor creatureâI'm certain you have frightened him near to death with your crude American manners.”
all
of us! Now, do please unhand the poor creatureâI'm certain you have frightened him near to death with your crude American manners.”
Glancing over his shoulder, Royce was annoyed to see that the others were corning into the room. His temper abating a trifle, he loosened his hold on Stafford and, as if not trusting himself, moved slightly away from him. He looked at Pip, who had watched the scene with wide gray eyes, and motioned for her to leave. With a swirl of blue and white skirts, she disappeared instantly.
George raised his quizzing glass in the direction she had disappeared and murmured, “The little pickpocket?”
Royce nodded curtly, his fists clenched menacingly at his sides.
Clutching his ruined cravat, Stafford took comfort from the presence of the others and in a voice filled with outrage said, “The man attacked me! He physically assaulted me!” Gaining courage with every passing second, he drew himself up and uttered portentously, “I shall have to call him out!”
“Oh, no, that would never do!” said George. “Can't fight a duel over a mere pickpocket! No matter how lovely she is!”
“I have no intention of fighting a duel with Stafford,” Royce said coolly, advancing determinedly in Stafford's direction. “I do, however, have every intention of throwing him out of my house!”
Stafford took one look at the grim expression on Royce's face and decided that retreat was the better part of valor. He hurried toward his friend, Wetherly. “
Well!
'pon my word, Martin, let us leave here immediately!”
Well!
'pon my word, Martin, let us leave here immediately!”
Precisely how much he had seen or what Wetherly thought of the unpleasant scene that had just taken place was difficult to ascertain. His swarthy face was expressionless, and the dark eyes revealed no emotion whatsoever. His voice prosaic, he said, “As you wish.” Wetherly bowed slightly in Royce's direction, saying politely, “Good day to you, Manchester. Delightful time.”
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