The Playful Wanton Read online

  Ward’s reaction was instantaneous. All color left his face. He let go of Adolphus’s hand as though it were infected with plague and took a huge step back.

  “Do you know, I’ve just remembered a pressing engagement that I really should attend to in London,” Ward said to Rufus. “I’m sorry, old friend, but I really can’t stay.”

  Rufus must have guessed what Adolphus figured out in an instant. Ward knew that he was being hunted. He knew the name of the man hunting him. He knew he was caught.

  “Nonsense,” Rufus laughed, doing an admirable job of pretending that nothing was wrong. “You’ve only just arrived. We’re in the middle of a fantastic game that I know Caro would love to have you take part in.”

  Ward looked uncertain. He eyed Adolphus suspiciously.

  “Besides,” Rufus went on. “You’ve ridden such a long way and your horse has only just been put up for a rest. And the highwaymen this time of year are devilish. You couldn’t possibly leave until tomorrow afternoon at the earliest. No, you couldn’t leave until next Monday, I’m certain.”

  Adolphus attempted to send Rufus a look saying he’d crossed the line and laid it on too thick.

  Ward continued to study Adolphus. “Gibbon, you say?” He cleared his throat. “The one associated with the Bow Street Runners?”

  Before Adolphus was forced to admit the truth and frighten Ward away or lie, Rufus cut in with a sly, “You see why he’s here, man.” He raked Adolphus with a wry look. “Even a Runner needs to relax now and then.”

  “Maybe,” Ward mumbled.

  “Every man needs a bit of fun now and then, right Gibbon?” Rufus went on.

  “Indeed,” Adolphus grumbled. He hated the implication that he was toying with Eliza for sport even more than he hated the thought of losing his chance to nab Ward.

  “So you see?” Rufus slapped Ward on the back. “I invited him to this party for the same reason I invited you. For fun. For enjoyment. For a little dip in the inkwell for those who need it. We’re never going to live down the reputation of this party, so why not enjoy it?”

  “I wouldn’t mind reacquainting myself with Lady Eliza,” Ward said, loosening up in a way that infuriated Adolphus. “She’s enough to make any man think he’s died and gone to heaven.”

  “Lady Eliza is otherwise spoken for,” Adolphus said in deadly toned.

  Ward had the good sense to look wary and inch farther away from him.

  “There are plenty of biddable young maidens in attendance,” Rufus went on, sliding an arm around Ward’s shoulder and steering him toward a different hall than the one Eliza had retreated down. “I’ll give you a complete catalog of the ones who are here to find husbands and the ones who are intent on enjoying themselves in other ways.”

  Adolphus stood where he was, watching the two men depart, with a deeply-etched scowl. Before they turned a corner, Rufus glanced back at him, a desperate look in his eyes, as if telling him they needed to act fast. He was right. The faster they brought Ward and Ivy face to face so that the young barmaid could identify Ward, the faster Adolphus could take him into custody. And if he had to use unnecessary force in questioning Ward, for Eliza’s sake, he would have no qualms in doing it.

  Chapter 5

  Eliza hurried along the hall to her bedroom, heart racing, clutching her robe tightly around her. The moment she reached her door, she shot through, shutting it behind her, then turning to lean against it, panting. What in the name of all that was holy was Henry Ward doing at Caro’s house party?

  It took her a few moments of resting her weight against the door as she gulped for breath, shivering as her body remembered the feeling of his touch and the way he dominated her. The sickening soup of emotions she’d felt all those years ago—fear, curiosity, horror, pleasure, and deep shame—swirled up in her once more. She’d been so certain she would never see Henry again.

  At last, she gathered her courage enough to push away from the door and over to her washstand. She shed her robe and poured water from the pitcher into the basin, scrubbing herself as though she’d spent the afternoon with Henry instead of Adolphus. Scrubbing hadn’t rid her of the disgusting feeling Henry had left her with years ago and it did little to make her feel better now. All she could do was dry off, dress, and put on the spritely smile she’d developed to hide the anxiety she’d never been able to scape from.

  By the time she stepped back out into the hallway, dressed in one of her most conservative gowns with her hair pulled back from her face in the most unattractive style she could manage, the calm of resolve was beginning to take hold in her. Ophelia. She needed to find her friend and have a laugh. Ophelia was the rock she—and Felicity, for that matter—had clung to for the past two years. Without even knowing it, Ophelia’s sweet presence and shy calm settled her. She needed her friend.

  “Whatever are you doing in here alone?” she asked, trying not to sound as desperately relieved as she felt as she swept into the small library.

  Ophelia stood by one of the shelves, reading a dusty old book. She gasped, then burst into a smile at the sight of Eliza. “I must confess, I became distracted in my search.”

  “And where is Mr. Khan?” Eliza asked. “You were partnered with him, were you not? Should he not be searching with you?” She crossed the room and threw her arms around Ophelia in a hug that was far tighter than it should have been.

  When Eliza let go, Ophelia blinked rapidly at her, clearly startled. She replaced the book she’d been reading on the shelf with a confused look. That look dissolved into an airy laugh, and she said, “No, not the treasure hunt, the other search.” She lifted the key she wore on a ribbon around her neck, the key she, Eliza, and Felicity had found the first day of the party but which they had yet to find the lock for.

  “You are continuing that search when there is a far more interesting one afoot?” Eliza asked. She took Ophelia’s hand and led her to one of the sofas in the room, sitting with her. It felt so wonderful to do something normal that the tension squeezing her began to fade.

  Ophelia blushed, glancing down at her hands. “Mr. Khan and I spent most of the day searching for clues,” she confessed.

  “Why are you not still engaged in the hunt?” Eliza leaned her arm on the back of the sofa in an informal pose and scooted closer to her friend. “I am certain Mr. Khan was enjoying himself.”

  Ophelia blushed harder. “He is a kind and soft-spoken man,” she said. “When he wants to be. Though I feel there is much he was holding back from me as we followed clues today. He was called away on business, an urgent message from his father, so we agreed to halt our efforts for the day.”

  “But what if someone else reaches the final prize before you do?” Eliza asked, realizing she and Adolphus were just as guilty of giving up the search for other activities.

  Adolphus. Her heart squeezed at the very thought of him. He wanted to marry her. At least, he had wanted to marry her before Henry Ward arrived on the scene. She was certain that Adolphus had seen the way Henry looked at her, seen the way she reacted. Adolphus was a Runner. His entire life was about noticing subtleties and interpreting clues. He would know in an instant what had been between her and Henry. He wouldn’t want her anymore. He would cast her aside in disgust the same way her family and every other gentleman who had taken an interest in her had. Well, aside from the ones who changed their opinion of her and took advantage of her already ruined reputation.

  “It appears as though the hunt has been paused for the day,” Ophelia said, no outward indication that she could interpret Eliza’s thoughts or that she knew she was thinking at all. “Caro hinted that there are a large number of clues in each path to the prize and that the entire game was designed to take days to play out.”

  “Of course,” Eliza grinned, though she wasn’t certain she felt that much mirth.

  Ophelia’s expression changed as she studied Eliza. “And why are you and Mr. Gibbon no longer searching?”

  Eliza laughed, a trickle of delicious
memories replacing the bad ones in her heart. “We were waylaid by the Trickster,” she said, arching one eyebrow. “He trapped us in an abandoned servant’s bedroom. He may even had been the one who rigged the window to douse us with water. We were forced to resort to extreme measures to warm up again.”

  “Yes, I have heard a great many reports of similar mischief by the Trickster,” Ophelia went on, completely missing the sensual implication in Eliza’s words. “I’ve heard of at least half a dozen couples who have been locked in rooms or trapped in wardrobes. I know of three couples who have given up the search entirely. Lady Malvis and her odious partner have declared the whole thing a stupid waste of time and have returned to preening and posing in the grand parlor instead of participating.”

  Eliza snorted. “She would do that.”

  Ophelia leaned closer, growing more animated as she went on. “A handful of couples have yet to emerge from their traps,” she whispered. “Lady Lettuce Marlowe secretly told me that she heard sounds of an alarmingly scandalous nature coming from behind the door where one couple was trapped.”

  Eliza tried her best not to laugh. “Is that so?”

  “It is. And one couple, Lady Philomena and Lord Allenby, have already announced their engagement.”

  “How delightful.” Eliza smiled, knowing full well that it would have been two couples announcing their engagement, if only Adolphus had asked for her hand in a more meaningful way.

  Of course, now that Henry had arrived, Eliza began to wonder if she should have accepted Adolphus’s hand straight away. Would an engagement have protected her or would Adolphus have regretted tying himself to a woman of such low character?

  “Lord Marlowe has been using the game to push his daughters toward horrible suitors,” Ophelia went on. “Even though Caro was careful not to pair Lettuce with that Mr. Pigge, Lord Marlowe has insisted she and her partner complete the hunt with Mr. Pigge as a third, since his partner called off almost as soon as she saw who her partner was. And poor Imogen—”

  Ophelia stopped in the middle of her gossip, her mouth open as she was startled by Henry’s appearance in the doorway.

  “Now this is a room I am happy to explore,” Henry said, sauntering deeper into the room and approaching the sofa with a hungry smile.

  Eliza’s throat squeezed and her heart raced. She prayed to find the words she needed to tell the bastard to bugger off and leave her alone for a change, but her mouth went dry.

  “Lady Eliza, you must introduce me to your charming friend,” Henry went on, eyeing Ophelia the way a butcher eyed up a piece of meat.

  “My friend was just leaving,” Eliza said, standing so fast her head swam. She gestured for Ophelia to do the same.

  “I…what…is there something….” Ophelia blinked at Eliza, her cheeks as pink as apples. She was clever enough to understand the hints Eliza was sending about whether she wanted to know Henry or not, though. She nodded, then started out of the room. “Do excuse me, sir,” she said to Henry. As she reached the doorway, she sent Eliza one final, anxious look.

  Eliza answered it with what she hoped was a reassuring smile. She thought Ophelia might change her mind and stay, but Henry turned to her with eyes narrowed, clearly telling her to get out without saying a word.

  Ophelia left. Eliza swallowed and faced Henry, her smile gone. “What are you doing here?” she asked, dropping all pretense of amiability.

  Henry stepped slowly around the sofa, laughing softly. “Come, Eliza. That’s no way to greet an old friend, is it?”

  “We are not friends,” Eliza said, willing herself to stand her ground. She couldn’t shy away from the memories of what she’d done years ago, so she had no right to shy away from facing them in the present.

  Henry sent her a look as though he were indulging a temperamental child as he came to stand toe to toe with her. He lifted a hand and brushed her bare arm, making her wish she’d thought to wear a shawl or gloves or anything.

  “I will not object if you wish to use another word for our acquaintance,” he said, biting his lip as he watched the gooseflesh that appeared on her arm in the wake of his touch. He lowered his voice and went on with, “I still haven’t forgotten how sweet and tight you were, or those beautiful sounds you made when I was balls deep in that slippery cunny of yours.”

  Eliza jerked away from him, feeling sick to her stomach. “I’m not the curious girl I once was,” she said, barely audible.

  Henry shrugged, stepping after her as she tried to inch away. “I overcame your objections easily enough that summer. There’s no need to raise the same objections now.”

  “I didn’t know any better.” She was alarmed at how small and powerless she sounded, as if she had turned into the girl she’d once been all over again. “I didn’t know enough to know how to tell you I was done with you.”

  “It wouldn’t have mattered,” he said. “I told you then and I’ll repeat it now—I’m not done with you.” He brushed the backs of his knuckles over her cheek. “What do you say we make use of this sofa to have a little tumble, eh? I’m half there already. All you’d have to do is bend over.”

  She wanted to slap him with everything she had in her. The only thing that stopped her was the sound of a man clearing his voice in the library’s doorway.

  Henry pivoted away from her, facing their intruder. As he moved out of the way, Eliza caught sight of Adolphus, his face like a thundercloud, glaring at her. Or perhaps just glaring at Henry. Either way, he looked angry enough to commit murder.

  “Damn,” Henry whispered, turning back to her. He’d lost a good deal of his color and all of the lasciviousness from his expression. “It’s that Runner. I swear, he’s after me.”

  Eliza swallowed, managing to find her voice enough to say, “Why would he be after you?”

  The fear in Henry’s eyes deepened, proving that he knew full well why, even if he didn’t share the reason with Eliza. “I can’t stay,” he said, instantly turning and marching out of the room. He only glanced to Adolphus after he’d passed the man, right before disappearing around the corner.

  Adolphus didn’t seem to notice Henry’s departure. He was too busy studying Eliza. The ferocity of his look made her feel undressed and unworthy. So much for all the beautiful things that had passed between them that afternoon.

  “How do you know him?” Adolphus asked, crossing the room in a few, long strides to stand in front of her, like a judge about to pass sentence.

  “What makes you think I know him?” It was foolish to play coy with Adolphus, but she was too frightened to stop herself.

  Adolphus ignored her question. “Has he hurt you?”

  Eliza blinked, slowly raising her eyes to meet his. Perhaps it wasn’t fury and disgust she’d seen there after all. Perhaps it was possessiveness and concern. Whatever it was, she had no energy left in her to lie to him.

  “He is a friend of my brother’s,” she said, unable to hold his intense gaze. “Five years ago, he spent the summer with my family. He seduced me, and then he continued to have me throughout the summer.”

  Adolphus was silent. It was unbearable. She peeked up at him, only to find that his anger had doubled. She held her breath, waiting for him to curse her name and call her every manner of name he could think of—names she’d been called more than enough times before.

  “Were you a willing party in this seduction?” he asked in a low growl that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

  She opened her mouth to answer, as she’d answered the question too many times before. But unlike the times when she’d glibly confessed to curious gentlemen that she had been willing, that she’d enjoyed every moment, and that she was hungry for more, she hesitated.

  “I don’t know,” she answered at last.

  Adolphus’s brow knit in confusion. “You don’t know?”

  He wasn’t going to judge her. That tiny change in expression, the genuine puzzlement where she’d only ever received teasing and more illicit invitations,
sparked hope within her.

  “I don’t know,” she went on, facing him more fully and standing straighter. “I was seventeen. He was handsome. I was terrified of him. He trapped me in a situation I couldn’t get out of. But then it felt good. I was confused and powerless to stop him.” She glanced down. “I have no right to say he forced himself on me. He didn’t. By the time we were done, I’d been a willing participant.”

  “He forced you,” Adolphus growled.

  She shook her head. “How could he have forced me if I let him do whatever he wanted? Not just that one time, but for the rest of the summer. I dreaded his knock on my door at night, but then I’d part my legs or get on my knees or do whatever he wanted. I liked it.” She paused, glancing away. “And I didn’t.”

  “He forced you,” Adolphus said, louder and with more intensity.

  “No one else thought so.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  She dragged her eyes back to him once more. “Every other man Henry whispered my filthy secret to didn’t think he forced me. They didn’t force themselves on me either.” As much as it made her heart ache, she went on with, “You saw for yourself up there. I’m a slut. I’ll never be anything else.”

  He moved to draw her into his arms so fast that it sent a wave of sharp fear through her, leaving her breathless.

  “You are not a slut,” he insisted in a low, threatening voice. “And I will murder Ward or anyone who says otherwise.”

  The emotions that hit her at his declaration were so strong that she laughed, even though it made no sense. “I should have told you how many men I’ve had before you,” she said, aching with misery. “I should have given you the choice of whether you wanted to bed a whore.”

  “You are not a whore.” He underscored his words by shaking her. The violence of his gesture should have frightened her, but instead, it seemed to loosen the cage she’d kept locked tight around herself. “You were used in the most despicable way possible. You were too young and innocent to know what was happening. Ward is a criminal, and I fully intend to bring him to justice.”