Regency Society Collection Part 1. Sarah Mallory
as he had claimed. But at night, he was a burglar, living off his wits. And a single kiss from her would make him forsake all others and risk capture by returning to her rooms.
She closed her eyes and smiled, imagining his arms about her again. He would confess that he was unable to resist the attraction, and assure her that, if she could find it in her heart to forgive his criminal misdeeds, he would love and cherish her ’til the end of her days.
‘Your Grace, there is a gentleman here to see you.’
Susan was standing in the door, hesitating to interrupt. And for a moment, Constance thought that her dream had come to life. She looked enquiringly to her maid.
‘Lord Barton.’
Damn.
‘Tell him I am not at home, Susan.’
‘He is most insistent, your Grace.’
‘As am I. I am not now, nor ever shall be, at home to Lord Barton.’
‘I thought you might say that.’ The voice came from the hall, just beyond Susan’s head. ‘So I took the liberty of letting myself in. I hope you don’t mind.’ Jack Barton’s tone made it clear that he didn’t care one way or the other whether she minded—he intended to do as he pleased in the matter.
Constance swept the papers she’d been holding under the desk blotter to hide them, and stood to face him.
‘I mind very much, Lord Barton.’
‘I believe I requested, when last we talked, that you call me Jack.’ He was smiling, as though he had totally forgotten her response to their last conversation.
‘And then you insulted me.’
‘I meant the offer as a compliment, your Grace. I do not make it lightly, nor do I make such generous offers to all the women of my acquaintance.’
‘You suggested that I become your mistress,’ she reminded him, coldly.
‘Because I wish to surround myself with beauty, and can afford to do so. You are quite the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, and I mean to have you.’
‘I am not some item, to be added to your collection,’ she replied. ‘You are mistaken, if you think you can purchase a woman as easily as a painting.’
He was unaffected by her answer. ‘I have not been so in the past. For the most part, it is only a matter of finding the correct price. Once you do, you can purchase anything.’
‘Let me make myself clear: you cannot buy me, Lord Barton. No amount of money would induce me to submit to you. Now, get out of my house.’ She pointed towards the door.
‘No.’
This presented a problem. She could not put him out herself, and such male servants as she had were either too young or too old to do the job for her. To a gentleman, her demand that he leave should have been enough. But if she was forced to rely on Barton’s honour as a gentleman, she was left with nothing at all to defend herself. ‘Very well, then,’ she said, resigned. ‘State your business and then be gone.’
He smiled and took a seat in the chair near her desk, as though he were a welcome guest. ‘I expected you would see it my way, once you had thought about it. I came about the ball I am hosting, tomorrow evening.’
‘I sent regrets.’
‘Yes, you did. You are the picture of courtesy, if a trifle stubborn. I must break you of that, if we are to manage well together.’
‘Do not think you need to manage me, Lord Barton,’ she snapped back at him. ‘I thought I made it clear, when I refused your contemptible offer, that we would not be doing anything further together. I do not wish to dance with you. I doubt I can eat in your presence, since the thought of you sickens me. And thus, I sent regrets for your ball.’
Her word seemed to have no effect on his continued good humour. He was still smiling as he said, ‘That is not acceptable.’
‘It is most acceptable to me,’ she insisted. ‘And that is all that matters. I doubt that you have any tender feelings that I might have offended. I do not believe you capable of them.’
‘Let me speak plainly,’ he said.
‘I have been unable to stop you.’
‘You will be in attendance at the ball, because I wish it to be so.’
‘And why would I care what you wish?’
Without another word, he reached into his pocket, and withdrew an object, wrapped in a linen handkerchief. His eyes widened and his mouth made an ‘Oh’, like a conjuror performing a trick. Then he dipped his fingers into the bundle and withdrew a ruby-and-diamond necklace. He dangled it in front of her.
And without thinking, she reached for it, and cursed her hand for acting faster than her wits.
‘I knew you would not be bribed with pretty words or baubles like a sensible woman, since I’ve tried that and failed. But then I thought, perhaps I was using the wrong bait.’
She watched the necklace, glittering in his hand, and tried to conceal her desire for it.
‘You were most foolish to sell the whole thing. You needn’t have made a complete copy you know. Just pried out the stones and let the jeweller fit paste ones into the old setting.’
She had learned that herself, after selling the rubies. The cost of even the cheapest copy ate almost all of the additional profit from selling the gold setting.
She said nothing.
He turned the necklace to let the jewels sparkle in the sunlight. ‘And you made the copy, once you realised that the necklace was not technically yours, did you not? It is part of your husband’s entail. It belongs to the new duke, and not to you. It was very wrong of you to sell it. What do you suppose the new duke would say, if he knew you were selling a necklace that has been in his family for generations?’
The new duke would likely go many months before noticing its absence. When he did, she’d hoped to stall him with the copy until she could afford to buy back the real necklace. But she kept her foolish mouth shut over the secret since Barton had enough power over her without her full confession.
‘I trust you have seen the error of your ways, and do not wish to continue stealing from your nephew.’
She thought to argue that it was not really stealing, if one was only trying to get money that one was owed, and continued to hold silent.
He nodded as though she had spoken. ‘Fortunately for you, I am an understanding man. I will give you back your necklace. Once you have done something for me.’
She closed her eyes. Now she must decide. Lie with Barton, or let him go to Freddy with the necklace. The choice was easy. Let him tell Freddy the truth. Perhaps it would move the duke to loosen his purse strings.
When she opened her eyes again, Barton was watching her with amusement. ‘You are not asking what it is I wish.’
‘I know what it is that you want. The answer is still no.’
He laughed. ‘You think I demand unconditional surrender, for a single strand of rubies? While it is a lovely necklace, I suspect you hold your honour to be worth more. A price above rubies, perhaps?’ He laughed. ‘Listen carefully to my offer, and then give me your answer.
‘First, what will happen to you, if you deny me: I will let the necklace fall from my pocket somewhere public. Everyone knows it is yours. Someone will ask me how I came by it. I will explain how you left it in my rooms. The world will draw its own conclusions, and you will be ruined.
‘Or you can attend the ball tomorrow. You will stand beside me as hostess, and dance with me as I wish. At the end of the evening, I will return the jewels to you, and you may go home.’
‘And if I stand up with you, the world will draw much the