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Shutting her ears to that insidious voice, she focused on his offer. ‘If you are certain I wouldn’t be imposing, I could leave as soon as I give Mrs Sanders her instructions. I would prefer to discover at once whether or not I must pay the increased rent.’
‘Then instruct away while I finish my tea.’
Chapter Three (#u4a19c7cd-4fd3-580a-bc5c-d33766a55449)
Two hours later, Christopher assisted Ellie down the narrow stairs from Mr Worthington’s office, trying not to notice the sizzle sparking from her fingers to his arm, despite the layers of gloves, shirt, and jacket.
He had to ignore it—ignore her allure in general. There was no way he could fulfil his pledge to his mother and keep watch over Ellie without spending time with her. Besides, he enjoyed spending time with her. He’d derived a good deal of satisfaction from having been able to help her today. Somehow, he was going to have to focus only on the warm camaraderie of their friendship—and avoid a repetition of what had almost happened in her office.
His visit to the school was the first time they’d been alone together since Summerville’s death. Doubtless, knowing on some subconscious level that there was no longer any impediment to keep him from acting on his attraction, the desire to kiss her had overcome him before common sense could restrain it. At least he’d retained enough wits to draw back. Forewarned now, he’d be more careful in future.
Still, he was uncomfortably aware both of the strength of that desire and how quickly it had overwhelmed him—in spite of his resolve to focus on finding an innocent maid to marry. Persuading his intellect to follow that wise course was one thing. It appeared that retraining his automatic reactions would be a good deal harder.
He’d just have to manage it. Because if he could not keep himself from succumbing to temptation, he’d have to give Ellie up. And he had no desire to end their friendship until or unless he must.
As they reached the bottom of the stairs, he said, ‘Do you feel better, having Worthington confirm that your lease doesn’t permit raising the rent?’
‘I do indeed! I also very much appreciate his offer to send my landlord a letter to that effect. Although, as he suggested, I think it likely Mr Anderson is well aware of the law, and simply thought he could frighten a lone, unprotected woman into paying an additional sum.’
‘A letter from the solicitor will let him know you can’t be victimised in such a manner. You’re neither alone nor unprotected. I would be quite happy to call on Mr Anderson myself and reinforce that truth.’
‘Hopefully that won’t be necessary.’
‘But you promise to let me know if the man, or his agent, give you any more trouble? Truly, it wouldn’t be an imposition. Helping friends is a pleasure.’
As her gaze jerked up towards his, he regretted a choice of words that recalled that moment in her office, reminding them both how much more of a pleasure it had almost been. His body tightened and sweat broke out on his brow as attraction sizzled between them again.
Ellie pulled her gaze free first, shaking her head a little, as if to dispel the enchantment. After preceding him into the street, she waited until he’d reached the pavement beside her to say, ‘I’ll thank you once more, and send you on your way.’
‘I can see you home,’ he offered, not wanting to end his time in her company. Besides, he needed more practice if he was going to master the trick of ignoring the sensual pull between them.
‘That’s kind, but before going home, I need to purchase cloth to make gowns for some of the girls. With the Season soon to begin, the dressmakers and linen drapers are going to be mobbed with customers placing orders. I’d like to obtain what I need before they get too busy to bother with my modest requirements. I wouldn’t want to bore you with such a mundane errand.’
‘I wouldn’t be bored. I’ve often advised ladies on clothing purchases.’
Your mother and sisters—or the women you’ve had in keeping? her enquiring look said.
‘Mama says I have excellent taste,’ he added loftily, and had the satisfaction of seeing her blush.
Looking tempted, as if she too were reluctant to end their interlude, she said, ‘You’re sure I wouldn’t be imposing? I have to admit, it is more...agreeable to walk with an escort. Thereby eliminating most of the blatant looks and rude remarks I would otherwise receive.’
‘I shall happily shield you from both. Although you must allow—and I protest in advance, this isn’t gallantry, merely simple truth—when a lady as lovely as you are walks down the street, men will look at her. Having an escort just makes them think twice about approaching.’
‘Then I thank you for guarding the approaches.’
Realising how perfect a conversational opening that gave him, he said, ‘Are there any other approaches that need guarding? I don’t mean to pry, but Mama is concerned about you, living alone now without protection. She worries that you may be...harassed by gentlemen who refuse to be dissuaded from pursuing you.’ A fear he had to admit he shared.
Her delay in responding and the little frown that flitted across her forehead told him that concern was justified. His protective instincts fully roused, he said quickly, ‘Who is it? Tell me, and I’ll warn them away.’
She shook her head. ‘I’m not really troubled by anyone. There have been...enquiries that I’ve turned away with the polite but firm response that I do not intend to accept any offer. Once they discover that I am not trying to pit one against the other in order to drive up the price, I expect they will desist. There are far too many lovely and willing women in London to persist in pursuing one who is not.’
Once a man set his sights on Ellie, he’d be tough to dissuade, Christopher thought. Trying to decide whether he should press harder, or respect her reticence to name names, he said, ‘I hope that is another matter you would bring to my attention, should anyone begin to “trouble” you in truth.’
‘That’s kind of you, Christopher,’ she said, her eyes brightening before the glow faded and she sighed. ‘But I really mustn’t rely on you. I have no right to lay such claims, and as we both know, you need to turn your attentions in a different direction.’
Though that statement only echoed what he’d just been telling himself, he found himself driven to refute it. ‘That may be true, but I have no intention of abandoning my friends. Besides, you’ll be doing me a favour. Should someone try to harass you and I fail to prevent it, my mother would harass me for months.’
That earned him a chuckle, as he’d hoped. ‘Very well, you may accompany me and apply your discerning taste to the choosing of material appropriate for the gowns of apprentice housemaids and seamstresses.’
Chuckling himself, he set off to procure them a hackney. During the transit to Burlington Arcade, he kept up a flow of light banter, pairing together such a ridiculous assortment of buttons with cloth and trimmings with fabrics that he kept Ellie laughing for the length of the transit—earning the satisfaction of seeing the worry fade from her face and the tension ease from her shoulders.
How it delighted him to see her looking more carefree!
A short time later, the hackney set them down and they proceeded past the beadle into the covered shopping street. An array of tempting shops awaited, from jewellers and hatters to dressmakers and dry goods’ dealers. As Ellie had predicted, the walkway was thronged with fashionable ladies, some with wide-eyed maidens in tow, doubtless preparing themselves for the sartorial demands of the upcoming Season. Weaving in and out among them, Ellie proceeded to a linen draper’s shop, Christopher following behind.
They were lucky enough to find one clerk free, though his enthusiasm muted when Ellie waved away the sumptuous fabrics he brought forward and stated her need for simple, unadorned material. After ushering them to the back of the shop, he left them alone to debate the merits of various plain cottons and woollens.
‘I’m quite impressed,’ she told him after she’d made her selection. ‘Although I expected you might have some expertise about the expensive fabrics your mama—or your ladybirds—choose for gowns, I’m surprised you had useful advice about cloth appropriate for servants.’
‘Mama prefers not to delegate the task of acquiring the female staff’s annual allotment of cloth to the housekeeper. Believing it wise to acquaint a son who wouldn’t inherit the wealth of the Vraux estate with the expenses involved in maintaining a household, she’s been dragging me along on those expeditions since I was a boy. Although the sinecures I’ve obtained since joining Parliament give me greater financial security than she anticipated, I’m still grateful for that training.’
‘I wish someone had done as much for me,’ Ellie said ruefully. ‘I’m continually surprised by a variety of expenses I hadn’t anticipated.’
And why had no one ever trained her? he wondered. As Summerville’s mistress, all bills for her household would have been sent to her protector. Was it because she was some peer’s base-born daughter? Blood kin but not family, with no aristocratic mother to give her the instruction in household management she would have received had a conventional marriage been anticipated?
‘Ask my mother. I’m sure she’d be happy to offer advice. Though, despite what Society may think, she’s really a canny household manager.’ As she’d needed to be, with her husband uninterested in any household purchases beyond those for his art collections.
After she’d paid for the material, he collected the paper-wrapped parcel and escorted her out. ‘Back to Hans Place now, or have you other errands to run?’
‘If you can endure one more shop, I need stiffening to line bonnets,’ she said. ‘The place across the way should have what is necessary. I promise to reward you with tea, or something stronger, when we finally reach Hans Place.’
The image of the reward he’d truly enjoy sprang to mind. Clearly, he thought with a sigh as he suppressed it, if he meant to court an innocent, he was going to have to work harder to divert the automatic direction of his thoughts. Or was it only because he was in the presence of a beautiful courtesan that he couldn’t keep his mind from veering towards pleasure?
Former courtesan, he rebuked himself before replying, ‘I’m amenable to one more stop, and a glass of brandy afterward would be quite welcome.’
‘Thank you,’ she said as she led him back into the throng crowding the Bazaar. Stopping before a shop that displayed an array of bonnets, she said, ‘You may not realise this, but I wouldn’t have been given such prompt or courteous treatment in that last shop, had you not accompanied me. Like most of the merchants hereabouts, he knew me as Summerville’s mistress—and knows that since I’m no longer in keeping, I’m unlikely to provide him with such lucrative custom in future. But a man’s wishes always command attention—even if it’s just the purchase of a few yards of cotton.’
‘Then you must include me on all your errands.’
She laughed. ‘Fortunately for you, I’m too sensible to hold you to that offer!’
Though he had thrown out the remark to amuse her, he found it wasn’t really such an exaggeration. With his Parliamentary duties now in a lull, he’d be quite happy to accompany Ellie, enjoying the simple pleasure of her loveliness...titillated by the simmer of desire being near her evoked.
It was certainly a more enjoyable way to spend his time than facing the daunting task of charming some Virtuous Virgin, a species about which he knew almost nothing.
They entered the bonnet shop, Ellie skirting around several clusters of patrons to reach the rack at the back that held hat-making supplies. Then, abruptly, she halted. Her breath escaping in a gasp, she stared towards the opposite corner of the shop, colour draining from her face.
Following the direction of her gaze, he took in a stylishly dressed matron who’d frozen in the process of tying the ribbons of a bonnet beneath the chin of a young lady who must be her daughter—and caught his breath as well.
Hell and damnation! The girl looked like Ellie—or a paler reflection of her. Younger, her hair lighter, her frame smaller, but with similar facial features and the same wonderful deep violet eyes. Before he could gather his rattled thoughts, Ellie brushed past him and almost ran out the door.
He rushed after her, having difficulty keeping her in sight as she darted around knots of shoppers and out of the Bazaar. He had to wait for a group of ladies to pass through the entrance before he was able to exit himself. After looking up and down the street outside, he caught a glimpse of Ellie headed west, towards Green Park, and set out in pursuit.
She didn’t slow until she reached the outer reaches of the park where, finally free from the street traffic that had hampered him, Christopher caught up to her. Her face ashen, her eyes wide and startled, she looked back over her shoulder at him and stumbled.
He caught her and braced her against him as he led her to the nearest bench. ‘What is it, Ellie? What frightened you so? Breathe, now!’
He sat her down and chafed her chilled hands, talking at her to make her focus her vacant gaze on him, all the questions churning in his head submerged as he worked to calm her.
Finally, she took a shuddering breath and attempted a smile. ‘S-sorry,’ she said, her voice unsteady. ‘Running off like some mindless goose. You...saw the ladies I was looking at?’
‘I did. But you needn’t explain anything you don’t want to.’
‘The resemblance is so striking, I suppose much of the story must be evident to anyone with eyes. As I’m sure you already suspect, that...girl was my sister, and that lady, my mother.’
Though Christopher was surprised by the connection, he wasn’t shocked. Given the strong resemblance between the two young women, he’d already figured Ellie must be the girl’s half-sister. It was deplorable, but sadly not all that unusual, for a peer to sire a daughter on the wrong side of the blanket, farm her out somewhere to give her a genteel upbringing, but never acknowledge her. Which would explain both Ellie’s ladylike qualities—and her ending up a viscount’s mistress.
Until he realised the flaw in that explanation. Ellie had identified the girl as her sister—but the lady as her mother.
‘You’re not base-born?’ he exclaimed before he could stop himself.
Infinite sadness in her face, she shook her head. ‘You know me as “Miss Parmenter”—my governess’s name, by the way—but until ten years ago, I was Miss Wanstead of Wanstead Manor in Hampshire.’
Miss Wanstead of Wanstead Manor? So Ellie had been legitimately born a lady? Christopher thought, astounded. Then how under heaven had she ended up Summerville’s mistress?
He looked down at her, her face expressionless as she stared into the distance.
Pain twisted in his chest. He’d long suspected Ellie was either illegitimate, or the offspring of a wealthy cit educated with the daughters of the Upper Ten Thousand at some elite academy. An innocent beauty who’d been beguiled by a seducer or compromised by a man who refused to marry her, stripping her of reputation and respectability.
But to be born a legitimate lady of quality and end up Summerville’s mistress? What an enormous loss of position that had been! No wonder she had that aura of sadness wrapped about her like a cloak.
Though it was far from extraordinary for a family to disown a legitimate daughter who’d been ruined, he couldn’t quell a rising anger at Ellie’s father. No matter what she’d done, how could he have thrown her out to survive on her own, leaving her vulnerable to a man like Summerville?
She looked at him then. ‘You’ve always been so kind to me, despite my...position.’
Simple kindness that had cost him nothing, given to a lady who should never have required it. ‘I can’t even imagine how—why—’ he exploded, goaded into speech by anger and outrage. ‘Sorry, you needn’t explain,’ he said, raising a hand in apology. ‘It’s not my right to question, and I don’t want to pry.’
‘You wonder how I came to be with Summerville,’ she said quietly. ‘I suppose no one else besides your mama has better right to an explanation. Since I might well not have survived the experience, but for you.’
He must have looked as puzzled as he felt, for before he could question that, she continued, ‘You probably don’t even remember the incident, but you...saved me once, from the depths of despair. At a masquerade ball, shortly after Summerville brought me to London.’
‘But I do remember it!’ he exclaimed. ‘Mama had sent me a note, begging me to come and escort her home. While looking for her, I found you, distraught. But—I didn’t do anything! I couldn’t even take you away, much as I would have liked to, for Summerville spotted you while you were helping me locate Mama, and bore you off.’
With a look that said the younger man had better steer clear of the Viscount’s woman. He’d often wondered what might have happened had he been older, and sure enough of himself to have taken up that challenge.
‘On the contrary, you did something—everything—I needed,’ Ellie was saying. ‘Treated me like the lady I’d been born, reminding me of who I was, what I was. What I could in my own mind continue to be, despite my circumstances.’
‘I always knew you were a lady. What...did happen to make Miss Wanstead of Wanstead Manor end up with Summerville?’
‘Papa’s debts. Not all incurred by him, to be fair; the estate was already heavily encumbered when he inherited. Apparently many in Society knew he was dished. Summerville visited Wanstead to talk to Papa about buying some land—and bought me instead.’
It took a moment for Christopher to comprehend that stark statement. ‘You mean your father accepted money from Summerville in exchange for allowing him to take you as his mistress?’ he said slowly, incredulous. ‘That’s...criminal! How could he?’
She shrugged. ‘Papa summoned me to his study, told me he’d been offered one last chance to save the estate, provide my younger sister a dowry, and keep my mother from homelessness and penury. That it was my duty to the family to shoulder the bitter task of making all that happen. Then he left...and Summerville walked in.’
Christopher strangled a curse, curling his hands into fists to keep from reaching for her as her expressive face revealed the absolute bleakness of that moment.
‘I didn’t really understand, at first,’ she said softly. ‘I drifted through the early days of the arrangement in a fog of disbelief, certain I was trapped in a nightmare from which I must awaken. But that night at the masquerade, the first public event I attended as his mistress...the crude comments, the groping hands of his friends as they fondled and kissed me, Summerville looking on, laughing, finally broke through the cloud of abstraction with which I’d been protecting myself from the truth.’
She took a shuddering breath before continuing, ‘I was a viscount’s mistress. No longer a part of polite society, but a denizen of the demi-monde. A harlot. The future I’d always envisaged irretrievably lost. Feeling I must crawl out of my skin in torment, I fled the pawing hands and suggestive comments and took refuge in that anteroom. Where you found me, and asked how you could help. Though there was nothing you could do to put right the terrible wrong of my world, you treated me with such courtesy and gentleness! As if I were still the lady I’d been b-born.’ Her eyes sheened with tears, she continued softly, ‘I truly didn’t know what I might have done that night, had you not given me just enough hope that I would one day escape for me to summon the courage to go on.’
As she told her story, tears had begun to drip down her cheeks. Wiping them away, she sucked in deep, uneven breaths, obviously battling to regain her composure.
His heart aching for the youth and innocence and position in life that had been stolen from her, Christopher had to restrain himself from taking her in his arms. If they hadn’t been in a public park, he would have.
Disordered thoughts and emotions tumbled through his mind as he watched her struggle for control. Fury at the man whose weakness had forced his daughter into sacrificing herself for the family. Contempt for the unbending rules of Society that punished a woman without possibility of redemption for any lapse, whether or not she was responsible for it. The anguish of a man who’d dedicated his professional life to righting wrongs and knew there was nothing he could do to right this one. A sense of shame that, had he not recently taken it into his head to marry, believing Ellie a courtesan who had chosen that profession, he too might have done her the insult of offering carte blanche.
‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,’ he murmured, as, with one last shuddering breath, she lifted her face to him.
Swiping away two final tears, she said, ‘No, I’m sorry. I thought I was done long ago with weeping over what cannot be mended. I suppose this unexpected glimpse into a vanished past got past my guard.’ She frowned. ‘My time would be better spent figuring out about what I mean to do about that glimpse.’
‘Do about it?’ he echoed. ‘Why need you do anything?’
‘There could only be one reason for my sister to be in London. She must be—eighteen now! I should have foreseen that, at some point, she might be given a Season. Only recall how strong an impression was made on you, seeing me and my sister in close proximity. Should anyone else see us and note the resemblance, it could ruin Sophie’s debut before it even begins. I shall have to avoid the fashionable shopping areas until the Season is over.’
‘You mean to avoid buying essentials until the family that abandoned you departs from the metropolis?’ he asked, furious on her behalf that she would be so concerned for the welfare of relations who had treated her with callous neglect. ‘Why should you further deprive yourself for their benefit?’
‘None of what happened was Sophie’s fault. Indeed, she was devoted to me.’ Her gaze lost its focus, as if she were looking back through the years. ‘What an enchanting child she was! And what a strikingly attractive young woman she’s grown to be. I’d rather starve than do something that would ruin her chances to make a respectable marriage.’
Before he could remonstrate, she waved a hand. ‘But there’s no need to turn this into a melodrama. Though I should avoid areas where the ton shops, most of my purchases nowadays involve coal or candles or victuals. A young lady embarked on her first Season is hardly likely to frequent establishments that sell those. And if for some reason I should need a new gown or bonnet, I’m sure your mother would be happy to find one for me.’
‘Mama never needs much excuse to look for gowns and bonnets,’ Christopher agreed.
‘Very well, Sophie is in London, but I should be able to stay out of her path.’ She gave her head a little nod, as if finished coming to terms with the shocking development. ‘I think I’m ready to proceed back to Hans Place.’
But as she tried to rise, she swayed, then sank back on to the bench. ‘I seem unaccountably dizzy. Perhaps I should rest a bit longer.’
‘Little wonder, after such a shock! The Gloucester Coffee House is just down the street. With all the coach traffic coming and going, they always have freshly made victuals. Why don’t I get us a flagon of wine and a meat pasty? Some sustenance will revive you.’
She looked up at him gratefully. ‘Thank you. That sounds very appealing.’
‘Very good. You rest here; I’ll be back in a trice.’
With that, after another concerned glance at Ellie, Christopher strode off in the direction of the Gloucester.
Chapter Four (#u4a19c7cd-4fd3-580a-bc5c-d33766a55449)
His mind still on Ellie and her shocking revelations, his hands full with a flagon of wine and the meat pasty, Christopher had just exited the Gloucester when some sixth sense alerted him. Stopping abruptly, he turned to see a ragged urchin attempting to slip one thin hand into his jacket pocket, where the change from his purchases jingled.
