In the Garden of Temptation Read online

Page 16


  “Then you will not speak ill of Catherine.”

  “But, Adam, please have reason. What of your political career? A scandal at this time could put your hopes on hold for years to come.”

  “We both know they are your hopes and not my own, Mother. I’ve made no decision regarding my future.”

  “You would disgrace the family for your own personal desires?”

  “I’ve been allotted one life,” he said. “I’m not certain I wish to waste it living according to someone else’s wishes.”

  The countess blanched. “What are you trying to say?”

  Whether it was in retaliation, or whether Adam actually had been considering the outrageous, he did not know, but his next words stunned even himself.

  “I want to make a life with Catherine.”

  “How can you have a future with this woman?” his mother screeched. “She’s married.”

  “There are ways to get around that,” he said.

  “Divorce?” The muscles in Lady Ashworth’s face began to quiver in her distress. “Lord Bourgeault will never cooperate.”

  “Divorce is one answer, but I believe you are correct. The baron does not strike me as the sort of man who would willingly give up his wife.” Adam stared at the countess without recognition, for his thoughts were elsewhere. His eyes refocused. “There is one other alternative.”

  Everyone at the table exchanged wary glances, the tension perceptibly mounting as they waited for the earl to share his latest inspiration.

  A devilish grin slowly eased Adam’s mouth as he turned to his sister. “Will you and Walter visit us on the continent?”

  “Us?” Judith posed tentatively.

  “Why, Catherine and me, of course.”

  “Adam, you cannot be serious. I will not allow it,” Lady Ashworth interrupted imperiously.

  The earl pushed himself away from the table and stood up. “Mother, it would seem to me there’s not a damned thing you can do to stop me.”

  On that parting shot he left the room.

  *****

  The Earl of Ashworth was bored, but it was a nervous kind of boredom brought on by circumstances beyond his control. There were times when he enjoyed the opera, but tonight was not one of them. He wished he hadn’t come.

  The performances were more than adequate, yet for all his effort to concentrate on the stage, his attention wandered. Across the opera house, occupying the box of Simon Fitzgerald, Marquess of Sutherfield, sat the lady who had stolen his heart. Catherine Bourgeault, laughing and flirting with her host, was making a complete spectacle of herself. Adam’s boredom turned to anxiety and then to irritation.

  It had been ten days, ten long days since Catherine and he had been together, and the tension was beginning to tear him apart. In recent weeks Adam realized his affair with the baroness had reached unmanageable proportions. He felt emotions he had never felt before, did things he would never have contemplated in the past.

  He had taken to attending any and all functions where Catherine might make an appearance. Where he did not see her, he did not tarry. Should Adam discover her presence, he took up a solitary position along one wall, watching her in brooding silence until she departed for other locales. He would be a fool to believe his activities had gone unnoticed, but he seemed unable to prevent himself.

  Adam knew that Catherine’s apparent lack of interest in him was the only element keeping the gossip-hungry at bay. The baroness had maintained their bargain to avoid one another in public, pretending to be indifferent. The earl, on the other hand, had found it increasingly difficult to feign aloofness when his emotions churned painfully just below the surface.

  Lady Bourgeault’s popularity did not help the situation, for the gentlemen hounded her constantly, all clamoring for her attention. Adam was consumed with jealously. He was restricted from approaching Catherine and yet must watch her socialize and dance with any number of other fellows.

  And then he had to consider the unsupportable possibility that Catherine performed her wifely duties in the marriage bed. They did not speak of it, but he knew she did not desire her husband, and that made her supposed compliance more bearable. Truth was, Adam had grown possessive. He demanded what was not his, and he no longer cared how it came to him.

  The falling curtain signaled the intermission, and the earl stood as he stared across the opera house at Catherine, willing her to look in his direction.

  *****

  Catherine glanced over at Adam’s box, and her eyes widened in recognition as she met the Earl of Ashworth’s insistent gaze. Ordinarily, Catherine would never have allowed the eye contact to continue more than a moment in so public a place, but he was sending her a silent message she found impossible to disregard.

  She saw him turn purposefully and stalk through the drapery of his box into the corridor beyond. From his posture she assumed he was headed in her direction. A mistake, she knew, but a thrill of excitement seized her, nonetheless.

  “Would you care for some refreshment, my dear?” Lord Sutherfield leaned toward her, his solicitous attitude a bit too encroaching for comfort. He placed his hand on her knee and looked longingly into her startled eyes.

  The draperies rustled and the two occupants of the box swiveled in their seats. Adam stood in the entrance, his face expressionless as he gazed at Catherine’s leg where the marquess’ fingers still lingered.

  Lord Sutherfield’s regard slid back to his companion, and his handsome features broke into a languid smile. With seeming deliberation, he removed his hand from Catherine’s knee and crossed his forearms in his lap.

  “Ah…Ashworth, what brings you to our intimate little corner of the theater?” the marquess asked. Though the greeting was meant for Adam, Lord Sutherfield’s eyes never left her face.

  Catherine did not miss the sly insinuation in the marquess’ speech. A challenge had been advanced. How much Lord Sutherfield actually knew, she could only hazard, but she could tell by Adam’s stance that he felt the need to protect his claim. Though she found the earl’s jealousy endearing, she wished he had not chosen tonight to object.

  “Sutherfield, you’ve been monopolizing the company of the most beautiful woman in London. I thought it time you share.” The words were spoken easily enough, but a steely edge underlined the pronouncement.

  “I suspect you mean relinquish,” the marquess said shrewdly as he stood and joined his guest.

  “If you insist,” Adam agreed.

  “You surprise me, Ashworth. I thought you secure enough to allow a lady the liberty to choose.”

  The earl shrugged. “I hate to be the bearer of sad tidings, but you are mistaken. Let us say, there’s never been a time before this when the issue was important enough to pursue. Believe me, that has changed.”

  A deadly quiet filled the alcove, and Catherine held her breath. Even though the words were civilized, she knew the men were arguing over her and the situation came close to being dangerous. The polite veneer masking the potential violence was part of the ritual, she surmised, but she found the slightly demented quality of the confrontation appalling.

  “I make you no promises, Ashworth,” the marquess stated at last.

  “Nor did I suppose you would,” Adam said. “But don’t misjudge the situation, Simon. You will not like my response.”

  The earl swung in Catherine’s direction then and bowed. Angry with him for having initiated this uncomfortable scene, she merely nodded coolly. But when he lifted his gaze to her face, her heart turned over in her breast. He was hurt! She perceived the pain in his hypnotic blue eyes and was filled with remorse.

  “My lady, as always,” Adam said by way of farewell, and he placed a kiss on her knuckles. He looked at her again, and this time she sensed a covert communication as he released his grip on her hand. In her palm he had deposited a small scrap of paper. She gingerly wrapped her fist around the missive and indicated her understanding with a slight motion of her head.

  Lord Ashworth straightene
d. “I wish you both good evening.” He did not wait for a response, but left hastily, the draperies closing with a swish behind his retreating form.

  Lord Sutherfield returned to his seat, sighing heavily as he slumped down in his chair. “This is a disappointment, I must say. I had hoped the rumors were overstated.” He set his finger aside his nose, watching her through piercing black eyes.

  Catherine returned his look nervously. “I don’t know what you mean, my lord.”

  “Come now, Lady Bourgeault, you don’t take me for a fool, do you?” He sounded incredulous. “A man does not barge into a private party, making veiled threats, unless he feels he has the right to do so. Is it serious—for you, I mean? Frankly, I couldn’t care less what Ashworth’s stake in all this is.”

  She hesitated. If she told him the truth, she risked being exposed through the gossip that would surely follow. Her weeks of carefully nurtured indifference to Adam would be lost, and she had no reason to believe this man would protect her reputation should she be honest. On the other hand, to lie would only encourage Lord Sutherfield, which could complicate matters further.

  Uncertain how to respond, she decided to change the drift of the conversation. “You are impertinent, my lord.”

  He straightened and leaned toward her, his face so close she became uncomfortable. “Right then, I won’t force the issue.” His voice dropped seductively. “But hear me, sweet lady, should you ever find yourself in need of a special friend, I would appreciate if you would keep me in mind.”

  Oh, he knew, she thought, he knew. “I never said…” she began.

  He patted her arm. “Not to worry—your secret is safe with me. Now, would you like to finish the opera, or would you prefer to read that note in your hand before making a decision?”

  The message was short and to the point:

  I shall be at our place this evening. Please do not disappoint me.

  Adam

  Catherine folded the scrap of paper and slipped it into the bodice of her gown. “I hope you will forgive me, my lord, but it does seem I must leave.”

  She would be forever grateful Lord Sutherfield obliged her, withholding judgment as he placed her in a hackney a few minutes later. She leaned out the window to bid him adieu.

  “You’ve been most kind,” she said.

  He gazed up at her. “I find myself consumed with an emotion reserved for the callow and the insecure,” he stated, a wry twist to his mouth.

  “My lord…?”

  “Jealousy, dear heart,” he said. “I will be watching to make certain my friend does not forget his good fortune.”

  “You are so gallant, my lord, you almost make me reconsider.” Catherine beamed at him. “Thank you.”

  Lord Sutherfield doffed his hat as the carriage pulled away from the curb.

  *****

  Catherine sat up in the rumpled bed, pulling the covers with her as she wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her chin on her knees. Her naked back was exposed, and Adam stroked the supple flesh along her spine in a soothing motion. Her eyes drifted shut, and a soft smile curled her lips in feline satisfaction.

  “You do know, of course,” she purred, “I will never ask you to stop.”

  The earl chuckled. “Feels nice, does it?”

  “Heavenly.”

  “If I had my way I’d rub your back every day.”

  Her eyes flickered open and she turned her head to look at him where he lay next to her on the down-filled mattress. “I know. It’s been more difficult than I thought it would be. When I’m not with you, I languish. And when I am with you, it is never long enough. I can honestly say these past weeks have taught me the meaning of frustration.”

  “You seem to have found a way to console yourself.”

  Uh oh, here it comes. She knew they would get around to discussing her conduct at the opera earlier this evening. Perhaps she should feign ignorance.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I think you do, Catherine,” he contradicted her. “How long have you known Lord Sutherfield?”

  “I met him last week at a soiree given by Charlotte Richards. Lord Wimberly introduced us at Simon’s request.”

  “So it’s Simon, is it?” he blurted angrily. “On familiar terms, aren’t we?”

  “Now, Adam, it’s not like that—”

  ”He put his hand on your knee!” he continued, plainly incensed. “I consider that familiar. And Daniel, I thought he was my friend.”

  “What would you have had him do? Is Lord Sutherfield a pariah who must be avoided? It would have been rude for Lord Wimberly to do anything other than what he did.”

  “But Daniel knows how I feel about you. It is a great disservice to me for him to present you to the most notorious rake on the town.”

  “The marquess? Oh my.” Catherine’s eyes widened in fascination. She stretched out on her side and, propping her head on her hand, stared at Adam avidly. “What has he done to deserve such a delicious reputation? Does he deflower innocent virgins?”

  “Good God, woman, what silly novel have you been reading?” He snorted in disgust. “I didn’t say he was a devil, but he has been known to ruthlessly pursue any woman who interests him. And take my word, he is interested in you.”

  “Surely not.” She dropped her gaze, suddenly uneasy.

  “Are you going to lie there and tell me he made no push to engage your affections?”

  “All right, I admit he did. But, Adam, you need not have run to my rescue in such an obvious manner. I had control of the situation. Once I made it clear to him that I was not available, he very graciously backed away.” She smiled. “He did indicate your feelings in the matter held little importance for him.”

  “Indeed.” He glared at her. “That would be completely in character.”

  “You took a risk exposing our relationship the way you did. It’s a good thing he is gentleman who knows how to keep a secret.”

  “Simon? Of course, he does. The man’s as honorable as they come. That’s why I chose the direct approach.” He sounded surprised by her lack of understanding.

  “Lord Ashworth, I do believe you admire the gentleman. In fact, I suspect he is your friend.”

  “I don’t deny it, and we shall continue to be friends as long as he has the sense to stay away from you. I will expect you not to encourage him.”

  “I had no idea you didn’t trust me,” she said indignantly. “For your information, it didn’t take much encouragement on my part to get his attention.” She pulled away from him with every intention of vacating the bed.

  “Oh no, you don’t.” Adam grabbed Catherine around the waist and, pulling her to him, rolled on top of her body gone stiff with wrath. He brought his face close to hers and stared into her eyes. “I’ve waited many days to be with you.” His voice had turned husky. “I’m not letting you go no matter how angry you are with me.”

  “You know I love you, Adam, regardless of what you think you see in public,” she said, misty tears clouding her vision. “That ought to be enough.”

  “I know, sweeting—please forgive me. It seems a nasty demon overtook me when I saw you flirting with that dangerous fellow.”

  “I was not flirting.” When he raised his brows at her skeptically, she said, “All right, a bit perhaps but it was harmless enough. The next time I see you plying some female with that masculine charm of yours, I’ll remember how you feel about all this.”

  Laughter rumbled in his chest and burst forth in an explosion of merriment. “Oh, love, I should know better than to take you on. Come, I can think of something more satisfying than arguing.”

  He covered her mouth with his, increasing the pressure until she let her lips part in acceptance.

  Running her hands up his shoulders and into the crisp dark curls at the nape of his neck, Catherine sighed blissfully. Ah well, she thought, when he was right, he was most definitely right.

  *****

  “This is the part I hate the most. Lord, it�
�s depressing to know we may not see each other for days and days.” Adam was struggling into a defiant Hessian, his mood turning blacker as the boot continued to evade him. “Damn!” he swore in irritation.

  It would be morning soon, for the first vestiges of the approaching dawn had begun to filter into the fuzzy grayness of the room. One lone candle sputtered uselessly, casting little illumination as its flickering life ebbed inexorably away.

  Catherine sat at the dressing table brush in hand, attempting to bring some order to her chaotic tresses. “This is an imperfect arrangement, Adam, but I can’t think of a better one.”

  “How long do you suppose we can go on as we are?”

  She turned to face him, squinting across the dimness. “Do you propose to end it?” she asked. He could hear the fright in her voice.

  “Good God, no!” He gave the stubborn boot a vicious yank, and it slipped into place. “How could you ask me such a question? Is that where your thoughts have been?”

  “No,” she said after a moment. “I admit when I try to visualize the future, I’m unable to do so with any real optimism.”

  He stood and walked across the room to stand over her. “What would you say if we did not allow our future to be governed by fate?”

  “Aren’t we doing what we can?”

  “Not at all,” he declared. “As I see it, we have two options. Firstly, we can continue on as we have these past weeks with no hope of ever being together except for an occasional rendezvous. But then we live by the whim of the baron. If he should decide he has had enough of our affair, he may take you from the city, and legally he has the right to do just that.”

  She gulped. “Do you really think he knows?”

  “There is no doubt in my mind,” he stated emphatically. “It’s been too easy for him not to have cooperated. Or should I say, for him not to have interfered.”

  “What is the second option?”

  “We leave the country.”