A Lady's Addiction (Honor Prevails Book 1) Read online

  He paused. None of his marks had ever thought so far ahead. “Will you take my word?”

  Now it was her turn to laugh without humor. “Not worth very much, I’m afraid.”

  “After you give me the jewels, I shall tell you my real name. My family includes members of the clergy, you see.” He didn’t plan to do any such thing. He had three days to come up with another idea.

  “That might convince me of your trustworthiness,” the chit rejoined, her voice thoughtful. She rose from her seat. “Three days. You may contact me on the fourth day.”

  He was being summarily dismissed. He bowed and exited the room. Once again on the street, he walked to his borrowed carriage located around the corner on Park Lane. Lady Stafford was indeed dressed for an outing. After their conversation about Devlyn Maitlin he could guess her destination. He would follow her for a time. Later, he would find a pawnbroker and see if the bird figurine in his pocket would net enough blunt to enable him to buy his friend Edward dinner.

  “Three days.” He chuckled. “I think the proud lady will see it my way.”

  * * * * *

  Anna resumed her seat and sat very still after her visitor left the room. Her thoughts strayed to the liquor decanters to be found in the study next door. An oversight as they hadn’t yet been emptied unlike the bottles in the drawing room and butler’s pantry. She would ask Mary to throw away the spirits. The temptation came to mind to do it herself, but after last night she didn’t believe she was strong enough to resist temptation.

  “No!” Never again would she look for courage or oblivion with alcohol. She had faced Franco and listened to his demands. Although she’d been trembling the entire time, she’d survived the encounter.

  Her aunts had despised tears. She learned at an early age if she held herself as still as possible, she could concentrate on that task rather than her emotions. Danforth had thought her behavior part of her role as an ‘ice queen.’ She knew her stillness sprang from the need for self-preservation.

  “Devlyn was right. I never would have slept with Franco.”

  The thought of the man’s suggested ‘trade’ sent waves of revulsion through her body. The idea of Franco or any of the men she’d danced with at the ball last night making love to her was abhorrent. There was only one man she wanted.

  How could she be angry with Devlyn for his deception when their time together had brought her so much pleasure? She had been out of sorts last evening. Surely the lack of alcohol contributed to her irritation with the man. Seeing numerous women at the ball openly ogling Devlyn hadn’t helped.

  She couldn’t fault him for not mentioning his infertility. Really, how would one bring up such a subject? Had he found a new lover at the ball? It no longer mattered. She wanted a child and he couldn’t give her one. There was no point in continuing their relationship.

  “I think I should tell him Franco contacted me. It is the honorable thing to do.”

  Anna rationalized her visit to Lord Cameron’s townhouse as an emergency. She needed to help Andrew and she only had a few days to do so. The fact she outranked Lady Cameron excused her visiting a family she hadn’t been formally introduced to.

  A butler far younger than her own manservant at Stafford House placed her in a parlor half the size of her own expansive formal parlor at Stafford House and excused himself to check on the availability of Mr. Maitlin.

  The room was warm and far cozier than any in her own home. The soft blues used in the wallpaper and upholstery gave the chamber a calming effect. She had never felt truly at home at Stafford House. Danforth had purchased the house and hired a decorator to ensure the house reflected his vast wealth. The result was an opulent and cold mansion.

  She’d only just taken a seat on a settee when a woman glided into the room.

  “Lady Stafford? It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Lady Caroline Cameron, Devlyn’s mother.”

  She inclined her head. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, madam.”

  Devlyn’s thick black hair didn’t come from the red-haired woman in front of Anna. She did recognize the same brows, nose and strong chin Devlyn sported.

  “My son had rather a late evening and will be down shortly.” The dowager took a seat across from her. “A tea tray will be along directly.”

  Anna noticed a large portrait of a young woman beside the fireplace. She guessed the girl in the painting to be Devlyn’s mother.

  “You look very happy in your portrait.”

  The other woman’s gaze moved to the picture. “It was commissioned for my engagement. I was very much in love when it was painted.”

  Anna stood and moved closer to the painting.

  The dowager did indeed look radiant in the portrait. Happiness glowed in the eyes of the girl on the canvas. She felt a pang inside her breast. “Is that what love looks like?” She didn’t realize she’d asked the question aloud until the viscountess answered.

  “Have you never been in love then, my dear?”

  The kind voice startled her. She felt the heat of a blush on her cheeks and turned to see Devlyn standing just inside the doorway to the room.

  “Lady Stafford.” He bowed and walked to where his mother sat. He leaned down and placed a kiss on the dowager’s cheek. When he straightened again, he said, “I see you have met my mother.”

  “She has been most kind to keep me company.” She retook her seat and Devlyn settled next to his mother on the settee across from her.

  The tea tray arrived. The dowager dismissed the maid and sorted the cups and saucers before she excused herself. “I have matters to attend to. It was very nice to meet you, Lady Stafford. I hope we may have a longer visit in the future.”

  After Lady Cameron had gone, she stared some time at Devlyn who merely stared back. “You look awful.”

  “You look beautiful,” he rejoined.

  She was nonplussed. He looked annoyed with her and desirous of her at the same time.

  “I need your help.”

  “I already gave you my help,” he replied, his voice tired. “I can’t give you what you truly desire.”

  What to say? His eyes roamed over her body and instead of the disgust she’d experienced under Franco’s gaze, she felt a longing for his touch. Her feelings must have shown on her face.

  “Good enough for a quick tumble, am I? None of the other men you’ve met at your balls arouse you?” He stood up and she was pulled ever so gently from her chair and pressed against his chest. “Tell me, Anna. Have you met another man you want?”

  He smelled wonderful and his lips were so near. Her arms were confined at her sides in his light embrace. She leaned in and tentatively placed her lips on his.

  Devlyn claimed her mouth with the softest of kisses as if he searched for something in her response. She groaned against his lips and deepened the kiss. He abruptly released her. Turning from her he walked to the fireplace, hands thrust in his trouser pockets. He came to a halt and stood gazing up at his mother’s portrait.

  She felt dizzy from the kiss and subsequent swift removal of her from his person. She stumbled back into her chair and took a few calming breaths.

  “You know, don’t you?”

  There was no point pretending she didn’t understand his question. “Yes. Cecily told me.”

  His laugh was a harsh bark. “Of course.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  The silence in the room between them lengthened, broken only by the sound of the ticking of a small carriage clock on a nearby table.

  “I received your note. What did you need to tell me?”

  “Franco came to see me.”

  Devlyn swung to face her. “I received your note only a few minutes ago. The butler told me it was delivered while I was out last evening. Did Franco visit Stafford House last night?”

  “I sent the note after a conversation I had with Lady Pickerel last night. She told me about her involvement with Franco. An hour ago, the man came to my home.”

  “What
did Lady Pickerel tell you about Franco?”

  “Only that he believed you and I were intimate at the inn. Cecily thought he might try to blackmail us both.” When Devlyn frowned at her words she said, “I told her he had no leverage against us. She voiced another idea. A scheme that unfortunately Franco told me he plans to carry out. It doesn’t involve you. I need to speak with your sister-in-law.”

  He moved from his place by the hearth and resumed his seat across from her. He stared at her for a moment, his expression inscrutable.

  “What scheme does Franco have?”

  “It doesn’t involve you,” she replied. “And why you kept your sister-in-law’s involvement with Franco a secret from me no longer signifies. I need to speak with Millicent.”

  “I didn’t tell you about Millicent because I didn’t know how involved you were with Cecily’s plot.”

  “You thought I wanted Franco to blackmail me?” She shook her head at the thought.

  “I needed to be sure I could trust you. I had to protect my family.”

  “That night at the inn,” she murmured, a horrible thought taking hold. “I mentioned Lady Pickerel. You nearly slept with me to get information. Is that why you came to my bedchamber at Stafford House?”

  “I made love to you because I wanted to. Did I ask you anything about Lady Pickerel either time we were together?”

  “No,” she replied with some reluctance. She refused to speculate further on his reasons for making love to her. It didn’t matter any longer. “I need to speak with your sister-in-law.”

  Devlyn shook his head. “You came here for my help whether you admit it or not. Tell me what Franco wants from you.”

  The maddening man settled himself against the back of the settee, crossed one ankle over his knee and folded his arms across his chest. The dark grey superfine jacket he wore emphasized the blue of his eyes. His close-fitting fawn trousers were pulled tight across his thighs. She concentrated on Devlyn’s face to keep from staring longingly at the rest of his body. The picture of stubbornness he looked, this elegant lover of hers.

  “Franco knows how much I care for Cecily’s son, Andrew. He has threatened to tell Lord Pickerel he is the real father of the boy.”

  Devlyn whistled. “It appears Lady Pickerel has been most indiscreet.”

  “Yes,” she replied and couldn’t help but say with some bitterness, “she hoped I would be so as well, and Franco would have a new benefactor.”

  He shook his head. “But you wouldn’t have lain with him.”

  She hated to agree with the arrogant man. He was right. “No, I wouldn’t have.”

  “I will speak with Millicent and contact you this evening. Do not approach her yourself. She would find a way to communicate with Franco and we want to keep him in the dark, although I suspect he might assume you would seek out your lover for assistance.” His eyes danced when he said the word ‘lover.’

  She chose to ignore his reference to himself as her lover. Hadn’t she already made the very same assertion in her own mind?

  “I will attend a rout at Clearwater House this evening and expect to be home by midnight.” She rose and walked to the doorway of the room. Before she went through the door she paused, the only thing she could think to say, “Thank you, Devlyn.”

  * * * * *

  “Lady Stafford is a very pretty girl,” the dowager said over dinner.

  They had been informed Millicent would take a tray in her room. It was apparent the woman wanted to avoid him.

  “Yes, Lady Stafford is very pretty,” he replied, “although I would hardly call her a girl.”

  “She can’t be more than one and twenty, my boy. The countess is much too young to be a widow.” His mother shook her head.

  “I’m sure she sees life as a widow as far superior to life with an unkind husband,” he rejoined and could have kicked himself. Such a statement would lead his mother to believe him overly familiar with Anna’s personal life. While that may be true, it wasn’t something he wanted the viscountess to know.

  He glimpsed a tell-tale gleam in the dowager’s eyes and decided to concentrate on the perfectly cooked pheasant on the plate in front of him.

  “I would imagine she could be the reason you came home this morning in your cups?” She laughed softly when he raised his head and shot her a dark look. “I know everything that transpires in this house, Devlyn.”

  “What is it you believe is going on, mother?”

  “You and Lady Stafford are infatuated with each other. I would also hazard to guess the lady is in some sort of trouble.”

  He snorted. “Your talents here are truly wasted.”

  “Lady Stafford came to you for help,” his mother said as if he had never spoken. “She knows you can be trusted. More importantly, she believes she can depend on you.”

  Although he knew what his mother was up to, he still experienced a boost to his ego from her words. Anna initially might only have been interested in his skills in the bedroom but now she needed his help with Franco.

  His mood abruptly soured as he remembered the moment he realized Anna knew of his physical limitation. He wanted to believe she might be disappointed rather than merely pity him. Their relationship had no future and he needed to think about how to dispose of a blackmailer.

  “Through an imprudent choice of friends, Lady Stafford is involved in an unseemly problem created by Millicent.”

  His mother gasped. “Do you believe she is in any danger, Devlyn?”

  “I’m not sure, mother. Wiggins is keeping a watch over her,” he replied despite the conclusions his mother would leap to. “She isn’t aware of it. My valet has been her shadow the last few days.”

  His tone declared the end of the conversation. He didn’t feel comfortable discussing Anna with his mother. She might read more into the situation than was warranted.

  The dowager might determine he cared for Anna. He did admit the idea of her marrying another man was anathema to him. Seeing her today had been a tonic to his bruised person. To be near her excited and intrigued him. The woman was more than she seemed. Her calm exterior a contradiction to the lady he knew. Not only was Anna a fiery vixen in bed, she was a vulnerable young woman as well.

  His mother interrupted his thoughts. “Devlyn?”

  “Mother?”

  “I made the mistake of interfering in Cameron’s personal affairs; I will not do the same with you.” She smiled. “That being said, I do think Lady Stafford is quite pretty.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  When Lady Stafford entered a linen-drapers shop, Wiggins chose to loiter across the street. He’d noticed a dark-haired gentleman near the woman during her visit to the previous three shops. The man walked past the door Lady Stafford had just entered and took up a position outside the haberdashery next door.

  “Medium height, dark hair, wiry build and weak chin.” He remembered every word of Lord Maitlin’s less than complimentary description of the blackguard known as Franco. An accurate representation of the man’s looks, he thought, albeit a biased one.

  The man took out a pocket watch, looked at it and shook his head. He sympathized with Franco. Lady Stafford had visited numerous shops on New Bond Street and appeared in no way ready to end her shopping excursion.

  Wiggins hadn’t been in London for several years. The sooty confines of town had proved his undoing once. A positive report had come his way from Suffolk. If the intelligence was correct, he could soon return to the countryside where he grew up.

  Franco put his time piece away. The man strolled away from him on the raised pavement. Wiggins followed Lady Stafford in order to protect her. Franco was the only threat to his charge and if he followed him a short while he might find out where the bounder lived.

  The man entered a watch-maker’s shop. Wiggins dodged a carriage to make his way across the street, thankful that most of the mud puddles from the recent rain had dried up. He waited a few minutes before venturing into the watch-maker’s establishment.
The store held several patrons. None of them were Franco.

  “Blast!” He’d grown complacent and the man had made him. He would return to Lady Stafford’s side, and doubted Franco would be anywhere near.

  * * * * *

  “I think the woman is going to visit every damn shop on the street,” Michael muttered.

  He’d already found out what he needed to know. Following the chit further appeared to be a waste of time. Lady Stafford had visited the Cameron household and at the very least he believed she had spoken with Devlyn Maitlin about his attempt to extort money from her. In the worst case she had gleaned some information about him from Millicent.

  Michael couldn’t depend on his former lover’s silence. Although Millicent had no idea of his current lodgings, he would have to be more careful. A man had followed Lady Stafford today. The man was undoubtedly there to watch over the countess. He’d wager five guineas the fellow worked for Maitlin.

  If Devlyn Maitlin had feelings for Lady Stafford the man could endanger his plan to blackmail the widow. Maitlin didn’t look like a gentleman who would take kindly to being trifled with.

  Whistling, he pushed away from the storefront he’d propped himself against and ambled down the street. From the corner of his eye he saw the other man follow. He couldn’t risk leading the man to his rooms.

  He ducked into Collier’s watch shop and quickly exited through the delivery entrance in the rear. His shadow would wait a few minutes before entering the shop and by then ‘Franco’ would be in a hackney halfway to Duke Street.

  His thoughts returned to Millicent. The woman declared herself to be in love with him. She’d only ever been a pawn in his machinations. Despite her fondness for him, he knew she was only human and the need to protect herself would eventually outweigh her loyalty to him. She would turn on him as had everyone, other than his mother, who he’d ever gotten close to in this world. He had no intention of telling Lady Stafford his real identity and he would make sure Millicent didn’t either.

  He remembered his former lover had a weakness for caramels. There stood a confectioner’s shop in Piccadilly which should serve quite well. He knocked on the ceiling of the hackney carriage he’d engaged, and the conveyance came to a halt.