Wicked Seduction (23 page)

He watched her mouth open in surprise. Clearly she had not expected such insight in him. Did she think he didn’t know how hard it was to daily service a master he didn’t respect? How hard it was to dream nightly of a childhood long gone? Then she said something that completely shocked him.

“You
are
better,” she said. “You are thinking of the future, seeing truths in other people, and last night you laughed.”

“I have my good times,” he hedged. He did not want to encourage her to think him completely sane.

“More and more, I should think.”

“Yes. And this is one of the best. Sitting in a carriage, just talking with you about the future.” He wished he had the words to explain. A month ago, he could not have done this. Not sit so contentedly in the dark. Too many ghosts haunted him.

She had no chance to answer. They were at their destination. Bloody hell! She had a suitor, their afternoon was filled, and despite everything, he had not yet said what he expressly wanted to say. She made to move out of the carriage, but he grabbed her. His motions were too abrupt, his grip too tight, but he had to say this now. If he didn’t, then the moment would be lost. The day would be lost.

“Maddy, listen to me. You have to know . . . Whatever happens, whatever you face . . .” He swallowed. “You are safe. I shall protect you, I shall help you. It matters not when or where or what. I shall be there for you.”

She frowned, searching his face as if looking for an answer. He had none for her. So he drew her hand to his face, pressing his lips to the back of her hand, and he whispered his vow.

“Whatever it is, Maddy, I will help you. You are not alone.”

Chapter 21

“She loved birds, rare and beautiful birds, but had never seen a peacock . . .”

Kit continued to weave his silly tale, based on stories he had heard. Fantasy, illusion, anything with a glimmer of possible truth, as long as it made the baroness’s eyes glow with delight.

“He was a poor man. A sailor who had traveled the world over. Unfortunately, the jeweler he went to had never seen a peacock either, so this piece was designed by a man—”

“Who had never seen the bird!” interrupted the baroness. “Oh, Mr. Frazier, this is the most delightful story! Did he give it to her?”

“He did,” Kit answered with a desperate glance at Maddy. She was smiling at him, her eyes dancing nearly as much as the baroness’s. Clearly, she also had a romantic streak. Too bad everything he said was a lie.

“Don’t stop there,” urged Maddy. “How did he give the gift to her?”

Kit squirmed in his seat. His life as a slave had been stripped down to simple honesty. Do this or die. Obey without question or die. There was no room for subtleties. It unsettled him to return to the gray light of half-truths. And it bothered him even more that it was so easy for him to spin his tale.

“You understand,” he said gently, “that I do not know if any of this is true.”

“Oh, pshaw, young man!” returned the baroness as she refilled his teacup. “Of course this is all flimflam, but I want to hear it anyway.”

“Very well, then, but I have no idea how the sailor presented the princess with his treasure.”

“Oh!” interrupted Maddy. “But that is all the better! We can all say how we think he should have given her the gift. I think a rough sailor would never have been let into a princess’s presence. He must have scaled the garden wall and given it to her that way.”

“What a marvelous idea,” returned the baroness. “But do you think . . .”

The ladies bantered ideas back and forth until they decided on one that was appropriately romantic. Kit was grateful to be let out of the tale. The truth was so much uglier than what they imagined. And Maddy was so much brighter as she talked with the baroness, her hands flitting about as she spoke, her entire body filled with life.

It was good to see her like that. He knew how she appeared when climbing the sexual steps to fulfillment, but now he saw when she was simply happy. Relaxed, animated, and happy. Good Lord, she was beautiful.

“I believe,” said the baroness, “that he must have looked at her just as Mr. Frazier is looking at you right now.”

Kit blinked, coming back to himself with a start. What had the woman just said? “I-I beg your pardon,” he stammered. “I w-was trying to recall—”

“Oh, don’t spoil it, my boy,” said the baroness with a fond smile. “Not when she’s blushing so prettily.”

He looked at Maddy, who would not meet his eyes. She was looking down at her hands, but there was a sweet rose color to her cheeks. And then it happened again. He lost his thoughts as he simply watched the shift of light and color in her face.

He had no idea how long he sat there. No one else said anything to interrupt his reverie. He only knew he came back to himself to see the baroness drinking her tea, her eyes dancing with merriment. And Maddy was still looking down at her hands.

“Er, um, I’m so sorry. Where is my mind these days?” He swallowed, feeling awkward and embarrassed.

“You were telling us how the sailor gave the princess his beautiful creation,” supplied the baroness.

“Of course. Well, as to that I don’t really know, but it is clear that she did eventually receive it. And I was told that she wore it prominently at a festival one night.”

“A festival?” asked the baroness. “What kind? I mean was it like our winter festival?”

In Africa? “No, Baroness. It was . . . well, um . . .”

“Perhaps it was like Vauxhall, a party of sorts outside,” inserted Maddy. “Like tonight.”

The baroness shook her head. “It was a fertility festival, wasn’t it? You needn’t be embarrassed, sir. After all, I have had four children myself. I understand all about fertility.”

He doubted she understood the kind of drunken revels he had seen, but nodded nonetheless. “Well, yes. And, of course, the sailor saw her wearing it.”

“Did he find her then?” asked Maddy, her voice quiet with a kind of wistfulness. “Did he sweep her away for them to live happily ever after?”

No. More likely she was abducted by villains who raped her and then sold her on the slave market. But Maddy was looking at him so sweetly, and he knew that as strong as she was, she also longed for someone to sweep her away.

“Yes,” he whispered, wanting with all his heart to be her hero. “Yes,” he repeated more firmly. “They had a desperate escape, of course, running from her father’s men. But he was a good sailor with good friends. They were smuggled aboard a ship and made off as fast as the tide could take them.”

“Oh marvelous!” cried the baroness as she clapped her hand. “Where did they settle? And how did you come to have the broach?”

Kit ducked his head, buying time to think as he sipped his tea. Eventually, he found his answer. “They went to an island and settled there. It was filled with beautiful tropical birds, of course, and they had a wonderful life.”

“With lots of fat, happy babies,” finished the baroness. “That is always important.”

“Yes. Lots of them. But . . . well, many years later the island was hit by a terrible storm. Our princess was a great grandmother by then. She died in that storm and was buried wearing the broach.”

“Oh, how sweet,” breathed the baroness.

“Sadly the village had to move after the storm. Everything was devastated. I do not know where they went.”

“Well,” said the baroness with a small nod, “those islands do get hit by storms and the people move around quite easily. Quite a normal way of life for them, I’m told.”

Kit stared at her, momentarily stunned by the woman’s ignorance. There was nothing about a tropical storm that was normal or easy, but he couldn’t say that. Fortunately, he was saved by Maddy, who tilted the ugly piece to the light.

“It is marvelous how it has survived through all that, isn’t it? Really, once you know its history, it fairly takes the breath away.”

“Yes, it certainly does,” said the baroness as she looked back at Kit. “But if it was buried with the princess, then how did it come to you?”

Kit sighed, allowing some of his real heartsickness to flow through the sound. “It is not a pleasant tale, Baroness.”

She arched a brow, but he could tell he had caught her attention.

“Grave robbers, Baroness. You know I was on a pirate ship. Pirates see no sanctity in graves.”

Maddy frowned. “But did the village have so much that their graves were worth robbing?”

Kit turned to her. Did she truly believe any of this tale was true? “Well—”

“Hush, Miss Wilson! The lady was a princess, and princess’s graves are
always
worth robbing, isn’t that right, Mr. Frazier?”

“Of course, Baroness. Of course.”

“And did you steal it from your masters when you escaped?”

Kit flinched. Is that the story that was being bandied about? That he had escaped? “No. I was given the piece because it was ugly. I had served well, and this was my share of the take.” Shame soured his gut and he set aside his tea. He did not like remembering what he had done on the ship or that he had been rewarded for doing his service well. Of course, this particular piece wasn’t shared booty. He had found it, taken it, and hidden it away before his masters were any the wiser.

“Well, never mind that,” said the older woman. “The point now is that you have a beautiful piece to sell me, and I insist that you do so, sir. I will not countenance anyone else owning such a thing.”

Did she have no guile whatsoever? Kit wondered. She had just handed him the opening to charge her an exorbitant price for an ugly bit of jewelry and a romantic story of lies. Kit hesitated, but he could not stop himself from beginning the negotiation.

“I’m afraid the jewels are most valuable, Baroness.”

“And I was just this morning talking to a London jeweler,” Maddy inserted. “It is only because of our friendship that I thought to speak with you first.”

“Quite right, quite right indeed,” said the baroness as she leaned over and patted Maddy’s hand. “But never fear. My birthday is coming up and I have already told dear Migel that this is what he is getting me for my birthday. He has allowed me only so much, and then . . .”

They sat down to dickering. Surprisingly, Maddy and Kit fell into a perfectly matched rhythm. She had little understanding of the worth of gems themselves, but she knew the baroness and knew exactly when to ease off the discussion and when to press. In truth, she could have done the sale completely on her own. She just needed Kit there to explain what each and every stone was and their individual value and history. Truthfully, he hadn’t even realized how much he had learned about gemstones, but it was the stock and trade of a certain grade of pirate. As he had not wished to learn anything about pedaling slaves, Kit had learned about gems.

In the end, the baroness purchased the broach, a ring, and a single ear bob that she intended to convert to a pendant. And she paid by banker’s check, bringing in her husband, who dashed off the note as easily as if he were paying the butcher.

And that, of course, gave him the chance to introduce himself to the baron and owner of Sysselmann Shipping. Maddy was the one to mention—to the baroness—that Kit was interested in a business venture. That he had marvelous ideas on how to stop pirates. She was speaking to the baroness, but the baron heard it. Within moments, Kit had an appointment to discuss business matters at the shipping office in a few days time.

All in all, it was a perfect afternoon. For the first time in over seven years, Kit felt he had financial security—for the time being, at least—and a possibility for a brighter future. It was an amazing moment and one he had to stop on the front step to appreciate.

“Kit?” Maddy asked, turning to look at him. She was smiling in inquiry, her satisfaction with the afternoon beaming through her expression. “Oh, this has been a wonderful afternoon, hasn’t it?”

He nodded, unable to speak. How did he explain the bizarre mixture of feelings that were coursing through him? But apparently, he didn’t need to explain. She took one look at his face and grabbed his arm.

“Come along with me. We’ll take a stroll through a park I know near here. Hardly anyone fashionable goes there, which is why I absolutely love it.”

“You don’t prefer Hyde Park?”

She sighed and they began walking together. “Hyde Park is, of course, very lovely. I have strolled and sat in carriages and generally paraded myself in front of every possible gentleman who might someday think he wanted a wife. But that’s not really enjoying a park, is it? It’s hunting for a husband, and so incredibly tedious I usually come home with a headache.”

He raised his eyebrows at her bitter tone, sensing the deeper truth. “So you do not really enjoy London society? You are here for the husband.”

“Well,” she hedged. “I suppose if all the Marriage Mart nonsense were removed, there are things I like in London. The theater is marvelous, and there are ladies like the baroness who are quite fun. But I was raised in the country. Sometimes the city is just so . . .”

“Noisy? Crowded? Dirty?”

“Busy. Always doing something, going somewhere, talking about something. And yet . . .”

“Insubstantial. As if it were a whole lot of talk about . . .”

“Things that matter so little to anyone at all.”

He tilted his head, needing to explore this side of her. “Would you be a political hostess then? A reformer seeking to better the plight of orphans?”

She laughed, showing more joy in life than humor in what he said. Either way, it was a beautiful sound, so perfect from her. “No, not political that way. But I should like to have more talk with the medical men in the city. My father had some very innovative ideas, practical ones that he thought should be discussed among men of medicine.”

“And he told them to you?”

“Oh yes. I wrote them down, but have done nothing with them. I thought I would pursue it after I was married—”

“And your time was once again your own?”

She nodded, but her gaze wandered to the trees. They had just walked through the main entrance to a small stretch of grass and park benches. She didn’t pause to sit but continued meandering along the path. “I am so glad the baroness was charmed by you. Is that check enough, do you think? Will you be set for a while?”

“It will cover my expenses for a few months. Your share should last you quite some time as well.”

She stumbled slightly, her eyes going to his in shock. “My what?”

He touched her cheek, marveling again at her beauty. Her skin was not so much flawless as healthy and free of powder. Her mouth was parted slightly in surprise, and best of all, her eyes were empty of guile. She truly had not expected a share of his sale.

“It is a called a finder’s fee, Maddy. Or a commission if you like. You will get thirty percent of anything I sell to the baroness.”

“But that is . . .” Her eyes widened in shock as she calculated the amount in her head. “Oh! Oh my goodness!”

He smiled at her. “You deserve it. I could never have made that much without you. I never would have met the baroness at all!”

“But . . . but . . .”

He pressed his fingers to her lips. “You deserve the money. Do not even try to dissuade me.”

Her eyes sparkled, flashing in the sunlight. “All right, I won’t. But thank you!” She flung her arms around him and hugged tightly. He returned the embrace, loving her natural enthusiasm. Better yet, he adored that he was the one who had brought her such easy joy.

“I am only being fair, Maddy,” he said as he buried his face in her hair. She smelled like the angel she was. “You earned every pence.”

She pulled back, her lips curved in delight. “Is this what it feels like to be in commerce? I vow it is not so terrible! In fact, I believe it is the best thing ever!”

“Really?” he said, his mind already fading out beneath the feel of her body pressed against his, her arms still wrapped around him. And before she could pull away completely, he leaned forward and captured her mouth in his.