The Courtship - Catherine Coulter [9]
“Are you acquainted with Gray St. Cyre, Baron Cliffe?”
“Certainly. What of him?”
“He got himself wedded not too long ago.”
“Yes, I know. What about him?”
“He and his bride happened to be near my inn after Jack had escaped from Arthur Kilburn. Unfortunately, Gray had gotten himself thrown and cracked his head against an oak tree.”
“You own an inn?”
“Yes. It’s called King Edward’s Lamp. It is the premier inn in Court Hammering, a market town an hour or so northeast of London.”
“Arthur had kidnapped Gray’s bride? I had not heard of this. Her name is Jack?”
“That’s right. In any case, once we resolved everything, my father and I came back to London to attend their wedding. It was quite charming, really, and quite small and private, and so you weren’t there. I saw Douglas again.”
“And you were infatuated with Douglas when you were fifteen,” he said, staring at her, his fascination growing by the word. He forgot for a moment that he wanted to bed her by two o’clock in the afternoon.
This afternoon. No later than three.
“So you were the man who overheard Alexandra and me talking in the Sanderling’s library.”
“Oh, yes. Discipline is a subject that is dear to my heart.”
“I am not at all surprised.”
He was smiling at her, wondering if it was too soon to kiss her, perhaps lightly touch his fingertips to her throat, feel her pulse quicken.
“Yes, Douglas was a lovely young man. But that was a very long time ago. I have assured Alexandra that I am over my tender feelings toward her husband.”
“That’s good. It wouldn’t please your current lover all that much if you weren’t over Douglas Sherbrooke. Was Douglas your first lover?”
3
SHE GAVE HIM A COCKY smile. There didn’t appear to be a single embarrassable bone in her body. His fascination continued to climb. “Now, that is very straight speaking, Lord Beecham.”
“Of course. You strike me as a woman who prefers straight speaking.” He helped her into his carriage. He said to his driver, “Babcock, drive us to Gunther’s. I must feed this lovely lady an ice or two before she begins to fade away.”
“Aye, my lord,” Babcock said, eyeing Helen with awe since she was a good nine inches taller than he was. Lord Beecham noticed that Babcock straightened his shoulders as he jumped up into the driver’s seat.
“Hurry, Babcock,” Helen called out of the window, “It will be a close thing. I did not have my luncheon today.”
Lord Beecham laughed, he just couldn’t help it. Surely what she had said wasn’t all that funny. He coughed and followed it with a harrumph.
Helen settled herself opposite him, smoothing down her skirts. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, nothing at all. So you didn’t let Douglas bed you?”
“Actually, I fear he wasn’t at all interested.” She sighed. “I was just a little girl to him. I believed him a god. I would have gladly wiped a rose-water cloth over his brow, peeled grapes for him before respectfully popping them into his mouth. I would have—”
“That’s quite enough.” Lord Beecham frowned at her as he pulled on his soft York tan gloves.
She grinned shamelessly back at him.
“You were telling me why Douglas would be annoyed that you had found me,” Lord Beecham said. “You still haven’t arrived at the reason, what with all the drivel you’ve been spouting. Why did you bring up Gray’s name?”
“Douglas, Alexandra, and I were visiting with them. Alexandra brought up your name as being marvelously degenerate and lecherous, in short, a man of vast competence and talent. She thought you could take Douglas’s place in my mind. But Douglas said your reputation was exaggerated, that you purported to be a better lover than any dozen men combining their experience, but that it wasn’t true. You were, in short, a very distant second to him.
“When I looked even more interested, Douglas said in his lord-of-the-manor way that I was to stay away from you, that you would corrupt me and leave me in a ditch.
“When I pointed out that he claimed to be your superior in lechery and that he had not left