Chapter 2 #2
“What in God’s name is going on here?” Julian’s calm voice rose above the fray. He raised an eyebrow as one of the young bucks turned toward him. “Is that you, Calloway?” Julian asked. “Why the devil are you hanging around in the middle of a stable yard?”
“No one asked for your opinion, Laurent,” Calloway said. “Just toddle off and leave us alone.”
“You didn’t fall for that advertisement, did you?” Julian allowed a small chuckle to escape his lips. “Good Lord.”
“What’s it to you?” Calloway demanded.
“Just that I would’ve thought that a gentleman of your current … means would not want his face lampooned in the newspapers.” Julian looked at Calloway’s companions. “It will be a pity when your allowances are cut off after your families disown you in embarrassment.”
“I say, Laurent, you can’t—”
“No woman of means would be seen dead in this place.” Julian looked around the stable yard. “Admit it. You have been set up, gentlemen.”
“Maybe you want us to leave so that you can go in there yourself,” one of the men muttered.
“Hardly.” Julian met his gaze. “I need neither money nor approval from any woman. But please, go ahead.” He waved them toward the door. “Embarrass yourselves while I watch. I’ll be dining out on this story for years.”
Calloway made a rude gesture and strode toward the inn.
Julian looked over at the other two men who were muttering between themselves. “Do you intend to accompany him?” Julian asked. “If so, I am more than willing to make sure that your names are spelled correctly for the gentlemen of the press over there.”
Julian smiled as the men retreated. He turned to look up at the inn.
It was likely that some of the men would find their courage and return, but he’d done his best to chase them off.
Perhaps it would be good for Carenza to deal with a few of her “applicants” just to see how truly awful her idea had been.
Julian walked back onto the street. He had no intention of going through the same door Calloway had just entered. If Simon was correct, there was a far easier route to his misguided friend Lady Carenza, and he intended to make full use of it.
Olivia, clad in a black dress and a veil that was so thick she could barely see through it, was currently perched on the window seat trying to look down into the courtyard of the inn.
“Where did they all disappear to? Half an hour ago there were at least twenty gentlemen out there, and now there appear to be none.”
Carenza, who was similarly attired and sitting at the table, a notepad and pen in front of her, sighed. “I told you this was a ridiculous idea.”
“You did not.” Olivia came to join her. “You know full well that I wouldn’t have placed the ad if you hadn’t secretly wanted me to.”
There was a knock at the door, and Olivia hastily lowered her veil. “Yes?” she called out.
Bernadette, her maid, looked in. “There’s a gentleman to see you, ma’am.”
“Please send him in.”
Olivia nudged Carenza, who opened her inkwell and dipped her pen in expectantly.
A blond man, whom she immediately recognized as Jeremy Calloway, the younger son of an impoverished but politically powerful earl, came striding into the room and bowed extravagantly.
“Ladies.” His smile was condescending. “Which one of you is in need of my … attentions?”
“That is not something you need to know at this point, sir.” Olivia answered him with a fake-sounding French accent. “We are here on behalf of our client. She will decide which candidate she favors at the appropriate time.”
“Ah! French, is she? That would explain a lot.” He gave them a lascivious wink. “Well known for their enthusiasm in that area.”
Carenza pressed a gloved finger to her brow. She already had a headache, and it was still early.
“What makes you believe you are the ideal candidate for this role?” Olivia inquired.
Carenza wanted to laugh, because Olivia sounded like she was interviewing him for the role of secretary and not a lover.
“I’m young, fit, and lauded for my exploits between the sheets.” He pointed at his groin. “Ask any of the whores at Madame DeVane’s. They’ll tell you how good I am at pleasuring the ladies.”
Olivia looked down at her notes. “If you frequently consort with prostitutes, sir, have you ever contacted the pox?”
“How dare you!” Calloway’s mouth dropped open, and his face turned an alarming shade of puce. “Has someone been gossiping about me?”
“You do understand that my mistress would require you to visit a doctor of her own choosing to establish the veracity of your claim to be pox-free, sir?” Olivia continued.
“I will do no such thing!” Calloway blustered. “Good day to you both!” He left the room, slamming the door behind him.
Olivia scratched a line through his name. “He definitely has the pox.”
Carenza nodded.
Bernadette returned. “Do you want the next one, ma’am?”
“Yes, please.” Olivia smiled encouragingly at Carenza. “There can’t be anyone worse than that, can there?”
There was.
In quick succession, they dealt with a pastor who loudly lectured them about immorality and the certainty that they were destined for hell, a callow youth who’d written a poem for his mystery lady and simply wanted to read it aloud, and an elderly gentleman who was so drunk he could barely stand, let alone state his case.
Carenza’s headache intensified. “Olivia, this is madness.”
“I’m quite enjoying it.” Olivia grinned at her. “It’s like watching a terrible pantomime at the theater.”
“It’s certainly a farce,” Carenza agreed.
“Let’s see one more gentleman, and then we’ll pause to reconsider our tactics,” Olivia suggested.
“Fine.” Carenza lowered her veil.
“This is the last one, ma’am,” Bernadette announced from the door. “The others seem to have left.”
“Thank God,” Carenza murmured, and Olivia elbowed her in the side.
A tall, well-dressed man came into the room and bowed low. Upon straightening, he dropped his breeches to reveal himself in all his glory. He pointed at his erect member and smiled proudly at them.
Carenza felt a giggle well up in her throat. When Olivia started shaking beside her, she wasn’t sure how either of them would find the ability to speak.
“Very nice, sir,” Olivia said in a stifled voice. “Perhaps you might give us your name?”
At this point, Carenza shrieked with laughter, and the man pulled up his breeches and left without saying a single word.
They collapsed, laughing and holding each other until Carenza was able to stop.
“No more,” she pleaded.
Olivia wiped tears from her eyes and nodded. “I’ll go and tell Mr. Cox that we’re done for the day and send Bernadette to fetch the carriage. I’ll ask that they wait for us at the end of the lane.”
After Olivia left the room, Carenza ripped up the sheet of paper she’d written on and recorked her ink bottle. She was wiping her pen clean when she heard the door open again.
“You were quick,” she said.
When there was no response, she raised her head. Julian leaned against the door, regarding her with his infuriatingly cool gaze. All desire to laugh deserted her.
“Why on earth are you here, and where is Olivia?” Carenza asked.
“I suggested she should take her maid and go home before someone recognized her.” He paused. “As you might imagine, she wasn’t prepared to abandon you until I reassured her that I would see you safely back to Musgrove House.”
Carenza got to her feet, went over to the fire, and dropped the ripped paper on it. She watched it burn and then viciously prodded the ashes with the poker until they were no more.
Behind her, Julian sighed. “I do wish you’d put down that poker.”
“Why?” She turned toward him with it still in her hand. “I didn’t ask you to come and interfere.”
“There were several members of the press hanging around. I was concerned that you and Mrs. Sheraton would be followed. The simplest solution seemed to be to warn her and take you home myself.”
For some reason, his calm logic wasn’t making her feel any less aggrieved. “I don’t appreciate being managed, Julian. I’m perfectly capable.”
“I, of all people, know that.”
Carenza put down the poker and went to the table to collect her belongings. “Then kindly leave. Unless you wish to apply for the position I’m advertising for?”
There was a long silence.
“What if I do?” he asked.
Her breath caught, and she stared at him for a long moment. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
He shrugged. “If offering my sexual services saves you from an unsavory affair with another man, then yes, I am willing to be your lover.”
He strolled toward her, and she tensed. Despite his larger-than-life presence, he wasn’t the tallest man of her acquaintance, which meant she could look directly at him without craning her neck.
His eyebrow shot up. “You can’t possibly think I’m going to take advantage of you right now.”
“After the day I’ve had, nothing seems impossible.”
He opened his mouth, and she held up a finger.
“Please don’t lecture me.”
“What makes you think I would do that?” Julian asked. “As you’ve pointed out, I’m neither your father nor your brother. You’re perfectly capable of drawing your own conclusions about this fiasco without any help from me.”
“Exactly.” She stuffed everything into her reticule and turned to the door. “Which also means that I am perfectly capable of finding my own way back to Tavistock Square.”
He stood by the door, his expression hard to read. “I am taking you home.”
She marched right up to him, but he refused to yield. “Julian, I am not in the best of moods. Please stand aside.”
He met her gaze, his blue eyes determined. “I’m more than happy to move when we have established that I am going to escort you home whether you like it or not.”
Carenza hesitated. She was alone in a part of London she didn’t know well. Mr. Cox would ensure that she came to no harm, but if Julian was correct, and there were members of the press hanging around, she should accept his offer and stop being stubborn about nothing.
“Carenza …”
She let out a breath and lowered her veil. “Fine. You win.” She set her gloved hand on his proffered arm. “We can leave through the back entrance of Mr. Cox’s residence next door.”
“That was clever of you,” Julian commented as they exited the room. He allowed her to lead him toward the back of the building, where a second set of stairs took them into the other dwelling.
Mr. Cox, who was sitting by the fire reading a printed tract, stood up when they entered. “Mrs. Sheraton said to offer you her apologies for leaving, my lady, but that she knew you’d be safe with his lordship, here.”
Julian had asked Mr. Cox not to mention their prior financial arrangement, which had given him access to the inn through this very kitchen.
“Thank you. I’ll take good care of her, Mr. Cox,” Julian said, and received a wink in return.
He reckoned the landlord must have done well over the course of the day, what with all the bribes and the increased custom in the public bar. He only hoped the man had the sense to keep his mouth shut if anyone came looking for information. He’d have to ask Simon to keep an eye on him.
“Shall we?” He offered his arm to Carenza, who hadn’t spoken a single word. “My carriage is at the Golden Dove, which is a short walk from here.”
After making sure nobody was watching, he escorted her from the building and walked her through a series of lanes to the stable yard of the Golden Dove. He usually preferred to drive himself, but on this occasion, he’d brought his closed carriage and coachman in case he needed them.
In the carriage, Carenza took the seat opposite him and waited until the door closed behind him before raising her veil. Julian risked a smile at her and was met with a glare.
He sat back against the seat and regarded her. “How many men turned up?”
“Enough.”
“Did any of them come up to scratch?”
“That’s my business.”
He allowed a considerable silence to develop between them before he spoke again.
“I doubt any of them can offer you what I can. Discretion, reliability, all my own teeth, good health, expertise.” He ticked the list off on his fingers.
“You consider yourself an expert in bed?” Carenza asked.
“I’ve never had any complaints.”
“You do know that women lie about such things.”
“Not about me.” He smiled because he had a strange desire to annoy her, and he was enjoying himself.
“Perhaps I should ask my acquaintances.” Carenza crossed her arms. “I’m sure someone has some interesting things to say about your rakish ways.”
“Please do. Although, I pride myself on my discretion, and I choose my partners for the same reason.”
“You mean married women who wouldn’t want to risk their position in society.”
“Yes,” Julian agreed. “Mostly, but not always.”
She sniffed. “Widows, then?”
“Absolutely.” He smiled again. “Come on, Carenza, admit it. You wanted a rake. I’m the perfect lover for you.”
“You’re almost as conceited as Hector,” she retorted.
“But is it conceit, when I know I’m an expert in pleasuring women?” He raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps a demonstration is in order.”
The carriage came to a stop, and she held up her hand, her expression flustered.
“No! I mean, I have to get on. Allegra will be worrying about me.”
He fought to contain his amusement as she lowered her veil, flung open the door, and almost tripped on her gown as she stepped down. He came around the carriage at a more leisurely pace and followed her to her front door.
“I am yours to command, my lady. Send me a note and I will come to you immediately.” He took her hand and kissed it.
He thought he heard a growl from behind her veil.
“Go away, Julian.”
He descended the steps, blew her a kiss, and returned to his carriage, well satisfied with his morning’s work.
He’d scuppered her plans to find a lover and had made his own case as a superior candidate.
As he settled into his seat, his smile disappeared.
He’d never seen Carenza so flustered. She sailed through life with the grace of a swan.
Her ability to rise above Hector’s crassness and infidelities had always impressed him.
What had started as a simple attempt to save her reputation was fast becoming a personal challenge. Carenza had unwittingly aroused all his competitive instincts. He never liked to lose, and taming Carenza Musgrove was a contest he was excited to take on.