Taste of Temptation Read online

  “Hello, Captain Odell.” She smiled her sexy, seductive smile, then focused on Michael. “You must be Lord Hastings.”

  “I’m very pleased to meet you.” Michael swept up her hand and kissed it.

  “Ooh, such lovely manners for one so young. How delightful!”

  “You haven’t told anyone that we were coming, have you?” Tristan asked.

  “Absolutely not. My word is my bond, Captain.”

  Though Tristan had initially scoffed at Michael’s suggestion of going to a brothel, he’d once again caught Michael sniffing around Lydia. Suddenly, the notion of regular visits didn’t seem like such a bad idea. The harlots would tamp down his salacious impulses, and they would teach him the ins and outs of intercourse so that Tristan didn’t have to.

  He’d known Lauretta Bainbridge for years, through his thorough acquaintance with the seedier side of aristocratic London. When she’d split with Viscount Redvers, she’d taken over an establishment run by a prior madam who’d fled the city for unknown reasons.

  Lauretta catered to the upper echelons of high society, so she’d been the obvious choice to supply Michael with the lessons Tristan was desperate for the boy to receive.

  She circled Michael, as if assessing a fine piece of horse-flesh, and she stopped in front of him and stroked a palm across his chest.

  “This will be so enjoyable.”

  “Will you... ah ... deal with him yourself?” Tristan inquired.

  “He’d probably like someone nearer to his own age.” Lauretta was in her thirties.

  “Someone pretty,” Michael said.

  “I employ the prettiest girls available anywhere. I select them myself for their poise, beauty, and skill.”

  The door opened, and two whores burst in. They were bubbly and giggling, dressed in corset, drawers, and spiky heels. One was blond and the other brunette. They were busty and curvaceous, and Tristan felt a carnal stirring of his own, wondering if he shouldn’t partake, too.

  Since arriving in London to watch over Michael and Rose, he’d lived like a saint. He was in a damned brothel. Why not indulge?

  “This is Jo,” Lauretta said, “and this is Peg. Girls, this is Lord Hastings.”

  “How do’, milord,” they chimed in unison.

  They gave a naughty curtsy, torsos leaned forward so that Michael had a full view of their breasts. His attention was instantly captured, and Tristan could see that he’d be in excellent hands.

  “How long will they be?” Tristan queried.

  “His lordship can stay till morning, if he likes.”

  Lauretta’s reply caused a bout of simpering and cooing by the two lusty whores.

  “Let’s just do three hours for his first visit. That should be plenty.”

  Michael grinned. “I can come back again on Saturday, right?”

  “Yes, Michael,” Tristan agreed, “every Wednesday and Saturday, till you’re bored with it.”

  “Don’t worry, Tristan”—he eyed their shapely torsos—“I won’t get bored.”

  He extended an arm to both girls, and they hurried over, one on each side, and led him out.

  Tristan sighed, feeling as if he’d pushed a baby bird from the nest. There was an awkward moment, where he debated if he should leave or request a whore of his own. Lauretta—the consummate saleswoman—jumped into the breach.

  “What about you, Captain? Should I prepare a room for you, too?”

  At her offer, Tristan considered, then shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

  “Are you sure? It can’t be healthy, hanging around that prude Maud Seymour.”

  “Lauretta! What sort of comment is that?”

  “Rumor has it that she’s set her sights on you.”

  Tristan had often suspected it to be the case. Not that he’d admit it.

  “Why would you suppose so?”

  “Because she’s a mercenary, and you control the earl’s money. She knows where the bread is buttered.” She winked. “She plans on marrying Hastings to her daughter, Miriam. You realize that, don’t you? It would be awful to have him caught in a peccadillo from which he couldn’t extricate himself.”

  “She’d try to trap him?”

  “I wouldn’t put it past her. Would you?”

  No. “Where do you hear these things?”

  “I run a brothel, Captain. You’d be surprised what type of information is bandied about.”

  “I appreciate the warning. I’ll have a chat with Michael; I’ll advise him to be careful.”

  “Good—but let’s get back to my original question. You’ve been working so hard. Won’t you let us relax you?”

  “I’m not much of a one for prostitutes.”

  “Since when?” She laughed and laughed.

  “I must be growing old, but I’m bothered by the casual nature of it. It seems so ... pointless, I guess.”

  “Maybe you should marry and settle down.”

  “Matrimony is not in the cards.”

  He was a seafaring man, gone for months and years at a time, and he’d return to that existence once his duties to Michael and Rose were concluded. His itinerant style of life wasn’t conducive to marital harmony.

  She studied him with a shrewd expression.

  “If you’re reluctant to wed,” she said, “there’s an alternative.”

  “What is it?”

  “How about a mistress?”

  “A mistress?”

  “Yes.”

  He’d never kept one, though it was common practice for a gentleman of means. For a price, the situation supplied many benefits: a fetching, trainable female; regular sexual congress; and feminine companionship without a wife’s nagging.

  Still, Tristan wasn’t in the mood to make such a commitment.

  “No, thanks.”

  “I have someone in mind who’d be perfect for you.”

  “Really? In what fashion?”

  “She’s very attractive and highly educated, so you’d actually be able to carry on a conversation.”

  “Always an advantage.”

  “Plus, she has the sweetest manners and disposition. Would you like to meet her?”

  “When?”

  “Now. I’ve arranged some interviews this evening for a few of my more discerning guests. She’ll be snatched up immediately, and I’d hate to have you miss out. Would you like an introduction?”

  He shrugged. “Why not?” He decided out of curiosity more than anything else, being oddly interested in seeing what kind of female would approach Lauretta Bainbridge for assistance. Only the most desperate one, he was sure!

  They started down the hall, Lauretta filling him in on the woman’s personal details. She was former gentry who’d suffered a terrible run of bad luck, and she was anxious to improve her lot by allying herself with a wealthy gentleman. And, of course, she was chaste as the day was long.

  Tristan snorted at that, not for a second believing he’d stumble on a virgin in a bawdy house, but despite his misgivings, he couldn’t deny that his ardor was flaring.

  Why not? a niggling voice prodded. He wasn’t a pauper. His business made him money hand over fist, and combined with the fees he was paid for supervising his half siblings, he was becoming richer by the minute.

  He had the coin to buy whatever he wanted. A mistress, perhaps?

  They climbed to the next floor, and Lauretta knocked, then opened the door to a blue bedchamber, complete with blue walls, drapes, and furnishings.

  An auburn-haired woman sat on a divan, and as they entered, she spun around. Their gazes locked, recognition dawned, and his mouth dropped in shock.

  “Miss Hamilton?” he wheezed.

  “Captain Odell!”

  She leapt up and hurried behind a large chair, using it as a shield as if he might attack her.

  Ever since she’d walked out of Michael’s library, he’d been fretting over her. She’d prevailed on his better nature, had begged him to have mercy on the children of a deceased soldier, but he
’d ignored her plea.

  What sort of man was he?

  He’d been plagued by the answer to that question, but if she would involve herself in such a dangerously idiotic scheme, why had he worried about her? She was an enticing mix of naivete and trouble, needing aid but not deserving it, and his fury soared.

  “What in the hell are you doing?” he barked.

  “You two know each other?” Lauretta asked.

  “No,” Miss Hamilton said at the same moment that Tristan said, “Yes.”

  She wasn’t attired as scandalously as a whore, but she was definitely wearing a gown that was more risque than the one she’d had on earlier in the day. It was cut very low in the front, her corset laced very tight to present a spectacular amount of cleavage he hadn’t noticed during her interview.

  Her hair had been styled into fat ringlets that dangled on her shoulders. Her lips, eyes, and cheeks had been enhanced with cosmetics. She was pretty as a picture, a ravishing, refined beauty who exuded charm, grace, and just enough innocence to tantalize a man’s fantasies.

  What would it be like to lie down with her, to thrust himself between her smooth, shapely thighs?

  “Are you insane,” he snapped, “offering yourself like this?”

  “I told you my condition was dire,” she snapped right back. “Did you think I was joking?”

  “Let me get this straight: This morning, you hoped to be governess to an impressionable young girl, but this evening, you’re selling yourself to the highest bidder?”

  “That about covers it,” she retorted. She glared at Lauretta. “Would you get him out of here?”

  “Are you positive? He’s a brilliant prospect, and he could—”

  “I loathe him,” Miss Hamilton interrupted.

  “Oh.”

  Lauretta was speechless, and Tristan was a bit undone himself.

  He couldn’t remember when he’d last been so thoroughly insulted, and the derogatory comment rattled loose a choice he’d never intended to make.

  “I’ll take her,” he curtly fumed.

  “What?” both women asked.

  “I said, I’ll take her.”

  He grabbed Miss Hamilton by the arm and started out.

  “Captain Odell... Miss Hamilton...”

  Lauretta was confused, uncertain if she should stop him or not.

  “I don’t want to go with him!” Miss Hamilton insisted, but he kept on.

  “Captain Odell,” Lauretta called, “perhaps we should discuss this.”

  “There’s nothing to discuss except the contract. I’ll have my clerk come by tomorrow to hash out the details.”

  “But... but... I can’t have rumors circulating that she went with you against her will. We’ve had some gossip lately about our procedures. Word might get back to—say—Lord Redvers, and he’d be angry.”

  “Miss Hamilton is very happy,” he replied. “There’s been no coercion.”

  “Ha!” Miss Hamilton huffed.

  “If anyone complains, send him to me. I’ll take full responsibility.”

  “Mrs. Bainbridge!” Miss Hamilton wailed, but Lauretta must have recollected the finder’s fee she’d be paid. She pulled herself together and smiled.

  “This is for the best, Miss Hamilton. Trust me. In the end, you’ll be glad.”

  Tristan stomped to the stairs and marched down, his grip on Miss Hamilton tight as a vise.

  Chapter 4

  “WHAT. precisely, were you planning to tell your sisters?”

  “I hardly see how that’s any of your business.”

  “Since I just bought you like a hog at a fair, everything about you is my bloody business.”

  “Don’t curse at me.”

  “Then don’t act like a fool. I can’t abide an imprudent woman.”

  “If that’s the case, we won’t get on. I don’t have a prudent bone in my body.”

  “I won’t argue with that. You’re crazy as a bedbug.”

  After a tense, uncomfortable carriage ride, he’d brought her to Lord Hastings’s mansion in Mayfair. The house was quiet, everyone abed, and they were ensconced in a front parlor, a candle lit, the door closed so that they were sequestered in a most improper fashion.

  Helen sat on a sofa, watching as he went to the sideboard and poured himself a tall glass of liquor. He leaned against the cupboard, drinking, observing her as if she was a lunatic he’d rescued from an insane asylum.

  “You’re broke and you’re in trouble,” he fumed, “yet you imagine you can solve your dilemma by becoming a courtesan?”

  “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  “A good idea!” he shouted.

  “Will you be silent?” she hissed. “I don’t want a servant to come down and find me in here alone with you.”

  “How can it matter if you’re with me? You’re my mistress, remember? I’m allowed special privileges.”

  “I don’t care what happened with Mrs. Bainbridge; I will not be your mistress.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Yes, really, so you needn’t bother contacting her. Whatever terms you offer, I will refuse.”

  He scowled. “Are you claiming you’d give yourself to a stranger, but you won’t consider an arrangement with me?”

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m claiming.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Because you’re bossy and cruel, and I can’t stand a man who thinks he knows everything.”

  “It doesn’t take much intellect to come across smarter than you.”

  “See what I mean? You’re a vain brute, which I can’t abide. I’ve put up with plenty of male nonsense in my life, what with my father and his problems, and I won’t tolerate any from you. So if you’ve said all you need to say, I’ll just be going.”

  She stood, determined to march out, appearing much more brazen than she felt. It was the middle of the night and pitch-black outside. The notion of traipsing through London was terrifying, but the prospect of staying with Odell was even more odious.

  What were his rights to her? Did he own her? Could he prevent her from leaving?

  She wasn’t sure, but she was anxious to escape his horrid presence, hurry home, and lick her wounds.

  She couldn’t even sell herself in a brothel and have it turn out as it was supposed to! Was there any endeavor at which she wouldn’t fail?

  “Sit down, Miss Hamilton,” he said.

  “No.”

  She took a step toward the door and he shouted again.

  “Sit down!”

  “Is that how you talk to the sailors on your ship? It may cow them into obedience, but it has no effect on me at all. I suggest you lower your voice and mind your manners.”

  In reply, he glowered so maliciously that, despite her bold statement, she stumbled to a chair and plopped down.

  “Here is what we shall do,” he pompously announced.

  “We shan’t do anything. I’m going home, and if I’m lucky—which I haven’t been so far—I’ll never set eyes on you again.”

  “You’re not leaving, Miss Hamilton. By your actions, you’ve proven yourself incapable of rational decision-making.”

  “I was merely trying to provide for my sisters.”

  “By selling yourself in a brothel?”

  “You were there, too, Mr. High-and-Mighty. Did you stop by for a cup of tea?”

  His cheeks flushed. “I had... personal reasons for being there. I needn’t explain myself to you.”

  “Having a quick tumble, were you? With who? Mrs. Bainbridge?”

  “Miss Hamilton! Must you constantly be impertinent?”

  “Yes, I must”

  “I’m prepared to do you a favor, so be silent and listen.”

  “What is it? I’m absolutely on pins and needles waiting to hear.”

  “You will work for me.”

  She inhaled sharply. “I will not be your mistress!”

  She jumped up, ready to march out again, and he stomped over, so that the
y were toe-to-toe. He was very tall, and very irate, and it was definitely a sight, having all that male umbrage lorded over her.

  She’d never previously had to deal with a furious man. The bulk of her experience had been obtained through occasional visits by her father when she was a girl. He’d always been full of fun and mischief and grandiose plans that never came to fruition. He’d never raised his voice or waxed indignant on any topic.

  How was she to handle a very angry, very arrogant Captain Odell?

  She had no idea, but she didn’t retreat. Feminine instinct told her to stand her ground, to show she wasn’t afraid of him—and she wasn’t.

  She seemed to know things about him that she had no means of knowing—the most relevant being her certainty that his bark was much worse than his bite. He might grumble and nag, but he would never hurt her.

  “You will work for me,” he started again, “as my ward’s governess, the position for which you interviewed this morning.”

  “I’m sure this will come as a huge surprise to you, Captain, but I don’t want the job.”

  “You don’t want it?” He looked as if he might faint.

  With his having purchased her from Mrs. Bainbridge, she had an inkling of his ruse. He was offering honest employment, but if she accepted and moved into the mansion, she had no doubt that he’d attempt carnal mischief.

  “No. So ... if you’ll excuse me? It’s a long way back to our boardinghouse, and my sisters will be worried.”

  She tried to step by him, but he grabbed her arm and snarled, “Just a damned minute!”

  He whipped her around to face him, and she bumped into him so that her chest was pressed to his, their legs tangled together.

  For a brief instant, they were frozen in place, and to her astonishment, there was a charge of energy flowing between them. Their proximity made the air sizzle with excitement. Her anatomy was enlivened. Her pulse raced, her cheeks heated, then—as if he’d been burned—he released her so swiftly that she nearly fell.

  They glared, breathing hard, as if they were quarreling, and she supposed they were.

  “You are the most obstinate, exasperating woman I’ve ever met,” he seethed.

  “And you are the most irritating, annoying man.”

  He was about to hurl another insult, but he reined himself in, visibly tamping down all the rude remarks he was yearning to hurl.