Evening Star (Star Quartet 1)

“Giana,” he said quietly, “I have told you there is but one way you can prove yourself to me, and your unbelievable story.”

She forced herself to look him squarely in the eye. “I am a virgin, Mr. Saxton, no matter what you think.”

“Excellent,” he said, appearing to be much diverted. “I have not enjoyed a virgin in quite a long time. Indeed, I believe my last virgin was a charming young lass in Paris some two years ago. And she did not cost me two thousand dollars.”

“Damn you, I did nothing. I was forced to attend the Flower Auction, just as I was forced to be in Madame Lucienne’s brothel. I have told you that I will give you back your two thousand dollars. You may purchase as many virgins in London as you wish.”

“Oh no,” he said easily, his fingers lightly caressing her arm, “I fancy a more skilled partner. Virgins can be a deuced nuisance. They know nothing of how to please a man, much less themselves. You, I

know, will please me admirably.”

She jerked her arm away.

“Very well, Mr. Saxton,” she said. “You would not know the truth if it smashed you in your smug face. The Van Cleves are quite wealthy, sir, as I am certain you know. We are also possessed of some power. If you wish to spread it all about London that Georgiana Van Cleve is a harlot, I have decided that you should do so. In short, Mr. Saxton, you can go to hell. My reputation will survive. The wealthy and powerful always survive, but I am certain you know that from personal experience. Did you not survive the scandal caused by your wife’s supposed accident?”

His face paled and he stared at her a moment, calming himself, she supposed. She felt a moment of elation. Then he smiled, a cruel smile.

“No,” he said slowly, his eyes hard upon her face. “My wife, Laura, did not die accidentally.”

“Ah, so your poor wife chanced to displease you, Mr. Saxton? Did she see you for the ruthless man you are? Or perhaps hated you because you were unfaithful to her? How many brothels did you visit, how many mistresses did you keep while she was alive? I would imagine it is not terribly difficult to arrange a boating accident.”

“No,” he said again, a brief glimmer of pain shadowing his eyes, “it would not be difficult. But, my dear, that is all ancient history, and none of your business.”

He shook away the anger and pain the memory of his wife still brought him, and said in a carefully controlled voice, “Let me say that your bravado about not fearing any scandal I might raise is very affecting. I do not doubt that if things were different, my announcement would do you little harm. But there is something else to consider, is there not? It is all over London that your beautiful mother is being courted by the Duke of Graffton. You cannot tell me that such a blue-blooded peer of her majesty’s realm would stomach such scandal. Ah, I see that you at last understand. What would the dear duke say if he knew that his future wife and stepdaughter would never be received in his circle?” He smiled widely into her white face. “You know of course what I will demand. Make up your mind to it, my dear, for I will have you, and willingly, until I am tired of you. If you insult me further, I may even take you for my permanent mistress whenever I visit London.”

It was odd, Giana thought, with almost blank disinterest, how the devil had come to claim his own. She thought of the angry words she had hurled at her mother that very afternoon, and flinched. She realized that whatever she did, she could not tell Aurora. Aurora Van Cleve would tell Saxton to hie himself to Hell, regardless of what his story would do to them. And there was the merger. Would Saxton risk that as well?

She said in a surprisingly calm voice, “Is your little revenge so important to you that you would risk the merger?”

“Our dealings have nothing to do with the merger,” he said, still smiling. “Indeed, you know as well as I that the Van Cleves need this merger more than I do. If anything happens, Miss Van Cleve, it will be your doing, not mine.” He shrugged. “Do not repine. It is likely that I will but improve your skills, and you will not find me a selfish lover. Would you prefer a man like Raymond Ffalkes, paunchy and short, a man who likely sweats like a pig in heat?”

“I hate you,” she said in a weary voice. She looked down at the congealed mutton on her plate. “I am quite finished with my dinner, Mr. Saxton. I would like to leave now.”

He tossed his napkin on the table and obligingly rose.

He knows he’s won, Giana thought, damn him.

“I wish you luck in our merger negotiations, Miss Van Cleve,” Alexander Saxton said smoothly as their carriage stopped in Belgrave Square. “It is your business wits against mine. But about our other business, you have until Friday.” He shepherded her up the wide steps to the Van Cleve mansion. “Until tomorrow morning, then, my dear,” he said.

She turned to face him, and Alex gazed for a moment into her wide midnight-blue eyes. He quickly cupped her chin between his thumb and forefinger and kissed her. He suddenly released her, wincing at the pain in his shin.

“I know,” she said, wiping her hand across her mouth, “you will add that to my bill.”

He rubbed his kicked shin against his other calf. “You may be certain that I shall,” he said, and turned away from her, whistling as he strode back toward his carriage.

Chapter 12

“Gentlemen,” Alex said, rising from his chair, “you will excuse us now. Miss Van Cleve and I have made plans to visit Kew Gardens. My dear?”

Drew watched in astonishment as Giana docilely rose to stand beside him. “You will not then be accompanying me to the exhibition, Miss Van Cleve?” he asked.

“Perhaps next week, Drew,” she said, having, in all truth, forgotten about the exhibition. “Mr. Saxton is a visitor to our country, and I feel it my duty to show him about a bit.”

“I trust you will all have time to enjoy her company after I’ve left England,” Alex said.

As Drew watched Mr. Saxton escort Giana to the door, his hand lightly upon her back, he wondered if perhaps she was fascinated by his American bluntness. Odd to see her so pleasant to the man now when she had given him Dutch coin all morning.

Forty-five minutes later, Alex was handing Giana onto the cruise boat Billy that would ferry them up the Thames to Kew Gardens. He stared toward London Bridge for a moment, thankful for the occasional sunny day in the London summer, and turned to Giana.