My Duke's Deception (Wicked Lords of London 2) - Page 4

“Hello.” He grinned, eyeing her up and down. “Better?”

She moved to the fire to help dry her hair. “Much.”

“Forgive my intrusion but I was hoping we could now discuss a proposition I have for you.”

His deep voice rumbled through her and she turned her eyes to the flames, trying to steady her fluttering stomach. While she’d always considered herself a lady of moral standing, even these past months, she had to admit, it wasn’t just fear that made her tremble.

“Of course.” She twisted her hands together, nervousness making them a touch shaky. She knew what he referred to. Her tremors increased, and she clasped her hands together to cover her inner turmoil. She found herself less afraid of the act itself and more concerned about his reaction to her virtue. Surely a man of his rank and wealth did not want an innocent mistress.

“You really are lovely. I noticed it in the inn, of course, but it’s even more obvious now. We’ll have to get you different clothes but what you’re wearing will have to do before we go shopping tomorrow.”

“Thank you, sir,” she replied, still not looking at him. Partly because now that she’d noticed his looks they were rather distracting.

“Matthew,” he corrected.

She swallowed. Perhaps she’d be less afraid, if she just came out and told him. “Matthew.” She took a breath. “I am amenable to whatever proposition you have to offer. These past months have been…” She stopped, not wanting to discuss the past. “And while I have a great many qualities I am sure would please you, I have never been with a man before. Until recently, I thought I would be wed and—”

“Stop,” Matthew’s voice rang out and she ceased looking at the fire, her gaze snapping to his. “Ella, you think I brought you here to be my lover?”

Heat bloomed in her cheeks, dread and embarrassment warring in her stomach. What was happening? “You said you had a proposition. That I was lovely.”

“And you’re a virgin. Is that correct?” He moved closer now, and part of her wanted to look away, to hide her shame at misunderstanding but he held her captive with his dark eyes.

“Yes,” the word barely squeaked out her mouth. She suddenly wished the floor would open up and swallow her whole. Had her confession cost her the only way she had to escape poverty?

Matthew’s body clenched with several emotions. One, he shamefully admitted to himself, was desire.

But bloody hell, she was beautiful standing at the fire with her hair undone. She needed to put on a little weight, she was too thin by half, but those large blue eyes mesmerized him, made him want to do things he’d sworn off doing ever since Sarah’s betrayal. What sort of hell had she been through that she’d so willingly offer herself to him?

“Ella,” he started again. “I consider myself a man of principle and I would never take advantage of a woman.”

She shook her head, her hair swinging about her back. He wanted to run his hands through it, touch it.

“I didn’t think you’d be taking advantage. I no longer have any marriage prospects. I haven’t even had food or a place to—” she stopped. “I’d be foolish to refuse anything you offered.”

He winced inside. She was right, of course. An arrangement like that would be to her benefit in its own way. And though she had no idea he was a duke, the sum she would receive from him would provide for her for the rest of her life, potentially even allow her to marry in the future if she wished. But if he didn’t take her as his mistress, another man might. And how would that make him feel now that he’d become her knight in shining armor? Her rescuer? He ignored the voice that said he wanted her too. That he didn’t like the idea of another man touching her.

“I do have an offer for you, but it isn’t to do that.” He emphasized the last word. “My sister is missing. The last I heard, she boarded a French ship with a man. While I have had a few men speak to the sailors on board, you might have more luck getting information out of them. I’d pay you for the trouble and provide a recommendation for you to help you secure a better position in the future. One where you won’t serve drinks to louts at a tavern.”

Surprise, relief, and then joy curved her lips into a smile. “That is…wonderful!” she exclaimed, covering her mouth.

Even in the dim light, or perhaps because of the firelight, he could see tears sparkling in her eyes. His chest ached for her.

He could safely say that he had hated his father. It was the reason he and Camille had been so close. They’d bonded together under the man’s tyranny. But however much he disliked the man, he had to give his father a modicum of credit. Unlike Ella’s father, he had never abandoned his children to fend for themselves in a cruel world.

“You’ll be under my care until the job is complete and then I will see you safely delivered to an employer.” A wave of warmth moved through him. Though he had just told her he’d give her a recommendation, his feelings were already shifting. He’d see her future secured.

“Why…why would you help me so?”

Her voice held curiosity and perhaps a note of suspicion. He couldn’t blame her. “It is the right thing to do,” he answered. But it wasn’t the entire truth. “And you remind me of my sister. I think of her out there in the world, alone. I don’t know if she is alive or dead. Cared for or abandoned.” He stopped, his gaze leaving hers to look into the fire while he collected himself. “The last known person to see her was a serving wench at The Kicking Horse and she reported that Camille looked happy. But then why have I not heard from her these past two years?”

He took several deep breaths as he looked at the flames. Despite the food, the whisky fogged his head, and feelings he’d pushed down for years bubbled to the surface making his breath quicken. He didn’t see her moving toward him until she stood in front of him.

“I’ll help you find her if I can.” She reached out and tentatively touched his hand.

A spark lit from his fingers at her touch and traveled through his body. He snapped his gaze from the flames to hers. There was no intent there, just sympathy, and an honest attempt to help. Imagine her, without food just hours before, sympathizing with him? “I appreciate your generous spirit and your aid, you are very kind. But I would be a callous man indeed to take your pity when your own situation is so dire.”

She shook her head vigorously and her long strands of hair brushed against the back of his hand. It was soft and silky and the urge to gather it in his palm near overwhelmed him. “There is nothing more important than family. Without them, you risk ending up like…” she paused, her eyes filling with sadness again, “like me.”

Tags: Tammy Andresen Wicked Lords of London Historical
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