A Wicked Arrangement

By Karolyn Cairns

Gillian St. Armand fled her glittering life in high society London, embittered and disillusioned with her marriage of convenience. Free to pursue her own pleasures now that she’s met the terms of their hated arrangement, she is haunted by the lingering desire for the man she cannot forget.
Though Gabriel gave his heart to another, years ago, Gillian is determined to bring her husband to heel. Amid the pomp and splendor of Regency England, a lady goes to any lengths to reclaim the man who haunts her dreams, spurring her on a deadly course as intrigue is once more sparked at every turn.
Gabriel St. Armand cursed the day he ever agreed to Gillian’s demand for independence, allowing pride and past heartaches dictate his hasty actions. As a deadly plot once more swirls around him and his family, he must conquer Gillian’s heart or risk losing her forever. The whims of fate once more conspire against Gabriel, perpetuated by his beautiful and conniving mistress, threatening his bid to reclaim his lovely wife with her heartless ultimatum.
The remaining nobles on the blackmail list have once more turned their eyes to Lord Iverleigh, determined to avenge the past and attain their rightful due. Treachery and betrayal once more threaten Gabriel and Gillian’s fragile newfound happiness, forcing them to at last learn to trust the other before all is lost.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Karolyn Cairns
• Release date: Sep 15, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310536441

Karolyn Cairns

Karolyn Cairns-Black lives in West Virginia with her husband Adam and three rescue dogs. She's busy at work. Its been a great year. She just wrapped up the fifth and sixth installment of The Wicked series in two parts, both available now.The follow up novels in The Viking Horde series are underway. Collin and Meghera's story titled A Viking's Heart is in works, the third in the series. The fourth installment about Joran and Allisande's son Storm is finished, to be published on the heels of A Viking's Heart. Two more novels are intended about their daughters Star and Wynter.Karolyn also writes suspense thrillers under the pen name KJ Black. The Gift Horse, her second novel was a finalist winner in the Greenlight Award Contest.Karolyn enjoys reviews and comments from her readers. She thanks you for all your encouragement and support!

Book preview

Prologue

St. James Palace

London, England

March 8, 1814

Midnight

The Marquis of Lyndon arrived to the meeting last, seeing the throng of elegant coaches parked outside in the courtyard as a considerably bad omen. He cursed under his breath. He passed heavily-armed royal guards on the way into St. James Palace, followed a procession of butlers down a maze of long winding hallways.

Christian Bane entered the luxurious meeting rooms teaming with liveried servants bearing trays of food and drink. He saw a group of well-dressed gentlemen and a few ladies garbed in evening gowns, groaning under his breath to know what they all shared in common.

It was late in the evening; unseasonably cool for early spring, the fog swirling outside the frosted window panes overlooking the royal gardens. Many of the nobles assembled were coming from earlier social engagements, dressed to the nines in their elegant fripperies, looking tired and irritated to be summoned here.

It was quite unlike their celebrated host to not employ more pomp and notoriety for his entertainments. The Prince Regent’s residence at Carlton House was usually meant for such revelries but all suspected this summons here tonight was the least bit social in nature.

Christian was grim-faced as he came forward, nodding to some, ignoring those who didn’t merit his notice. He slid his tall frame into an overstuffed plush chair before a gilt fireplace, his pale eyes sliding over to see the dark-haired lady sitting quietly across from him, her glove-encased hands folded primly in her lap.

She was plain of face if not for her brilliant eyes, a bright cerulean shade of blue. They seemed to mock him as they stared back. She was conservatively dressed, as always, showing nary a trace of bosom in the high-cut burgundy velvet gown, buttoned all the way to her throat as if to trap any bit of femininity inside.

Christian often wondered what George Atwell, the cousin of the late Duke of Rudd, had ever seen in the plain mousy creature before him to have married her. The lady wasn’t well-connected with family or the least bit desirable. He couldn’t ascertain where her daughter Eugenia got her pretty, buttery blonde looks but it was not from this woman.

Something about Lady Clarissa Atwell, newly elevated to the title of Duchess of Rudd, always made the hair on the back of Christian’s neck prickle with some awareness she was not at all what she seemed.

Neither docile, nor insipid, as what was always thought, the lady managed to conceal that supreme intellect of hers quite well. But he knew at a glance there was far more to the lady, seen in the way she listened to everything around her without offering anything of herself, learning all without uttering a word.

I didn’t expect to see you here tonight, Lord Lyndon, Clarissa finally said, her voice wry with amusement. The Duchess adjusted her voluminous velvet skirts before her, giving him a questioning glance from her remarkable eyes. When have you ever done what you were told? You upset my whole image of you as a rebellious scoundrel. No matter, I’m sure you will run true to form at some point in the future.

You mean you hoped to not see me tonight, Clarissa? He quirked a sandy eyebrow at her words, his lips curving in amusement. I’m truly hurt, Your Grace, I thought us the greatest of friends too. Christian delighted in seeing the bright spots of color dot her pale cheeks. Sorry to disappoint you, my sweet. And where is our esteemed host? His summons said to arrive at the very stroke of midnight. Dreadfully rude of him to exclude his own punctuality, don’t you think?

His advisor said he will be joining us shortly, Clarissa replied evenly. We are but his humble subjects after all, Lord Lyndon. Do relax and enjoy the refreshments. Prinny does pride himself on serving only the very best.

Christian ignored her indication of the wine and food trays sitting upon the serving buffet behind him. Ah yes, his subjects for certain. But humble? I see none of that gentle virtue here among this group, he said quietly, his eyes scanning the room, mentally noting the names and rank of each member in attendance. "Why are we all here? When has he ever seen fit to draw us together? And for what purpose? Does he not worry his connection to us would be discovered by the detective working for Iverleigh? The dwarf has become a constant shadow this last year, be it ever so small."

I think you know why we are all here, Christian, Clarissa said coolly and tossed him an impatient look. Our mutual matters are to be decided. You could say that is the reason Prinny chose to meet with us here away from prying eyes.

Christian stiffened, his handsome face betraying none of his surprise. I thought our mutual matters all resolved quite nicely. I cannot speak for the others but I was more than a little satisfied when Francis blew his own head off.

Yes, that particular matter was resolved to all of our satisfaction by Francis’s own hand, Clarissa agreed with an inclination of her head to the group clustered across the room. But one more pressing detail has yet to be addressed.

And what might that be? Christian tensed slightly, his eyes alert to note the pleased expression forming on Clarissa’s face.

You are quite impatient, Christian, Clarissa observed dryly as she tapped her pale fingers on the table to her right. Can you not wait for all to be explained to you in due time?

Not when I’m called off of a deliciously immoral lady’s rump to the royal carpet at midnight, Christian snapped irately, his eyes raking over her shrewdly. "What does he want? Come now, you’ve curried the Prince Regent’s favor for months. You of all here must know."

"It’s what we all want, Christian, and certainly what you want, Clarissa explained with a patient smile, her eyes smug with satisfaction. It is the return of all our fortunes; all that was stolen from us by Francis and Clarice."

Christian stared at Clarissa as if she had grown two heads, raising an eyebrow. And how does our Prince Regent propose to do that? Oh, I daresay he might just kindly ask Lord Iverleigh to write each of us a bank draft for our lost sums? What bloody nonsense is this?

I can assure you that Prinny has thought of little else since Francis died and it was discovered Clarice left all of her portion of the monies to Gabriel, Clarissa offered with a shrug. He is in dire need of funds. His financial difficulties are well known. It was believed his excesses all these years led to his financial ruin. His father refuses to indulge him—when King George is lucid, that is. His wife and brother want only to discredit him. I’m not surprised Francis found some means to dig into the royal coffers. That is all I know of it. Prinny doesn’t confide in me as you believe.

The only way to regain our lost fortunes is how I told you all, Christian said with a sneer of disgust. You didn’t listen to me!

Ah yes, I do remember your brilliant plan, come to think of it, Clarissa said with a gleam of amusement in her eyes. It entailed killing Lord Iverleigh and marrying his widow, thereupon dispersing the funds owed to us once Gillian was your wife. Sadly, that opportunity was wasted when Gillian gave Lord Iverleigh his current heir. The boy now inherits all of it. It rather complicates matters, don’t you agree?

And you had a better plan when Gillian showed up at your door? She was to be my wife! Francis was already working out the betrothal negotiations before the Van Ryker chap disrupted the whole matter. Christian glared at her, taking a pinch of snuff from a silver case, his face tightening in anger. Had you not panicked when Francis died and married Gillian off to Iverleigh without a thought, we’d not be sitting here. So wipe that cheeky smirk from your face, my dear. You have much to answer for. I’m not convinced of your innocence in making such a slip in judgment.

Clarissa went rigid, her gaze clashing with his. I am not to blame for this! None of us knew it was Francis who was behind the scheme. You and the others all thought Lord Iverleigh was working with Clarice from the very beginning. You cannot dump this dreadful mess on me!

The others might have forgiven you for marrying Gillian to Iverleigh based on that ridiculous assumption. We both know you aren’t that stupid. No, you had your own reasons to give her to him, didn’t you?

That’s ridiculous! I wanted the chit out of my life! Iverleigh needed a wife, any wife I recall, all to restore his shameful reputation. I didn’t need my good name blackened by associating with any of the Wingate’s. And for good reason! That scandal is still being talked about. I believe it is the reason Eugenia remains unwed.

You don’t lie very well, Clarissa. You chose Iverleigh for another purpose entirely. And you waited until I was out of the country and unable to make any prior claim to her. I’m wounded you didn’t consider marrying Gillian to me. Or did you just not believe I would return all of your money?

Trust is an elusive thing once it’s lost, Lord Lyndon. Clarissa eyed him questioningly, a dark brow arched, her voice lowering several octaves. Tell me, what did you have to do with Lady Iverleigh’s disappearance? I speak of dear Lillianne. One moment she is safely hiding under your roof, the next she disappears. One only has to ask the most obvious question.

Dear Lil didn’t confide in me where she was going, Christian looked out the corner of his eye to see none stood within earshot. His expression remained unchanged hiding his own surprise to know Lady Rudd was fully aware Lillianne St. Armand avoided the hangman’s noose; alerting him he had a spy in his household. I believe she thought it most prudent to flee London considering she was thought dead by all.

Come now, Christian, we both know Lillianne isn’t on the run as you maintain. You gave her up to her pursuers, didn’t you? You were paid and paid well to give her over to them, weren’t you? She sniffed disparagingly, her eyes raking over him shrewdly as she inspected his lime green embroidered vest. It is clear to see you’re now flush with your tailor. I’m told you refurbished Lyndon House to rival its former glory. Clarissa assessed his fur-lined cloak thoroughly with a nod. And the fact you are once again in good standing at Whites, however you managed it. Your markers have all been paid up. One has to ask—where did you secure the funds to accomplish all of that if you owed every moneylender in the city? I seem to recall your reversal of fortune was right around the time dear Lillianne…ah…fled…as you’ve claimed? She smiled tightly, her eyes narrowing slightly. Do not worry over it, my lord. None would mourn the Countess’s passing enough to avenge her. Her meddling quite set all of this into motion, don’t you agree? Several members of this group would still be alive if not for her. None have forgotten that. But they would question your loyalty. And the fact you kept that little tidbit to yourself. It makes your own ends very obvious.

Christian eyed her darkly. You would threaten me, Clarissa?

Clarissa shrugged and regarded him coolly. I think it would behoove you not to cross me in this, Lord Lyndon. If our esteemed peers should ever discover the Iverleigh’s marriage isn’t quite legal, they would lose all of the means to regain their funds. And they would silence anyone who knew of such information, namely you.

What do you imply I’ve done? I don’t have to answer to you! Christian’s jaw tightened, his pale eyes growing cold, careful to keep his voice down. And how is it you learned of Lillianne’s presence in my household, however brief? I merely gave her a place to hide for a time, I assure you. And as to the matter of my own finances, my elderly aunt died in Paris and left me all of her wealth. I have nothing to hide.

I made it my business to find out what you were doing, my lord, and with whom. Don’t worry over it. The others haven’t noticed you suffer no shortage of funds. I merely watched and waited to see what you intended to do with dear Lillianne, Clarissa countered smoothly. I guess that answers your question why I didn’t marry Gillian to you as Francis foolishly intended. I didn’t trust you. I know you would have taken the lady and fled the continent when the truth came out, leaving us all very much lighter in the pockets for having ever trusted you.

And you would trust Iverleigh to hand over your money? He gazed at her incredulously. You’re more than mad, Clarissa! You’re severely cracked if you think Iverleigh would turn over one shilling of the fortune he acquired after he married Gillian. He has no love for any of us, and surely none for you now that he knows you’re involved.

Oh, I never intended that at all, Lord Lyndon.

Christian scowled to see her delighted smile. I see no purpose to anything that you’ve done so far, Your Grace.

Ah, Christian, you can be so obtuse at times in your hatred for Lord Iverleigh. You lose sight of what sits right in front of your eyes, Clarissa observed with a slight laugh. I but kill two birds with one fell stone. You did alarm me when you hid Lillianne away. I questioned what you meant to do with her. Exposing Gabriel as a bigamist wouldn’t have helped our cause. And we both know you would have used such to your own benefit.

Christian contemplated her words, saying nothing more as the doors to the meeting rooms swung open. They all rose at once, watching the man enter the room with two attendants fast on his heels.

He was garbed simply, in dark breeches and a fine lawn shirt, devoid of both coat and neck cloth. His balding pate drew some surprise as most never saw him without his powdered wigs in public. His once-handsome countenance was showing the signs of his flagrant lifestyle, his cheeks sagging and ruddy from drink, his paunchy midsection hardly disguised by the girdles he was known to wear to conceal it. The piercing dark eyes flicked over them aloofly as he drew near. He snapped his fingers and the servants scurried out.

The doors were shut and latched securely behind them when they departed. The silence was palatable as he reviewed his guests. He smiled smugly as he raised a crystal goblet filled with wine, surveying the small group in the room with a pleased expression.

I thank you all for coming here tonight. I think we can all agree this meeting is well overdue. Please, do sit. Enjoy the refreshments. We have much to talk about, my lords and ladies.Once they were all seated, the man stalked to the center of the room. I have thought of nothing but our grave matter this last year. I dwelled upon how best to proceed. I can find no other way to reclaim what we lost, as much as it pains me to consider the only option left. Once Lord and Lady Iverleigh have been dealt with, their son will become Lady Rudd’s legal ward. Only that way can we get access to the child’s inheritance, reclaiming all that Francis Wingate stole over the years without bringing further attention to ourselves.

What of Iverleigh’s bankers, Your Majesty? Lord Greyson spoke up, his furtive gaze avoiding all the others, ignoring the warning glare from his wife seated next to him. I daresay they would have something to say of us pilfering the child’s wealth when the Earl dies.

A good point you make, my lord, Prince George of Wales allowed with a tight smile in that man’s direction. I happen to have considerable influence with the bankers these days, as you all well know. My rotating credit with them is much the talk of the town. Titters of amusement followed his brash words. I can assure you these men will all look the other way when that time comes, if only to settle my own personal debts to their satisfaction. We need only put all this unpleasantness behind us once and for all.

Some might question the matter as curious if Iverleigh and his wife should die suddenly, Lord Astley chimed in, his expression wary. What of Iverleigh’s mother? Lady Wythe is not without her own influence. An inquiry could result with two suspicious deaths in so short a time.

I can assure you, the manner in which both Iverleigh and his wife will be dealt with will never be questioned, Lord Astley, their host replied with a grim look. Make no mistake of that, dear friends. I have arranged all to look as it will. And to the matter of Lady Wythe’s claims to the boy? She is married to a Scottish peer. I consulted my advisors on this matter at length. She has no legal claim to her grandson if he is orphaned. As the current Duke of Rudd’s only living male heir, he will remain on in England, to reside with his lady cousin, the Duchess of Rudd, until he reaches his majority.

What of the damned dwarf? Lord Huntsley was drunk and swaying upon his feet. I nearly pissed on him last night in the Amherst gardens! Blasted man is always underfoot! Can you not do something about that, Your Majesty?

The Prince Regent smiled contemptuously. My guess is you should seek the retiring room and not Lady Amherst’s gardens to relieve yourself in the future, my lord. Mr. Chumley has been an ever present thorn in our sides but let’s not encourage him more by our actions. Act as if nothing is amiss! You ask for scrutiny by clustering about together whining about your lost monies. If Mr. Chumley follows you now, you’ve given him just cause and endangered us all. Prinny glared at Lord Huntsley, whose wife aided him by easing him back down into his chair before he fell.

Mutters spread throughout the group, all digesting the Prince Regent’s words thoughtfully. Christian hid his growing alarm under a façade of aloofness, but inwardly he was shaking, a sick feeling forming in his belly.

Conversation soon turned to lighter topics and he wandered away, leaning heavily against the mantle for support, staring down into the flames, his face filled with dread.

Careful, my lord, you appear quite ill, a soft feminine voice said at his side. One would think you truly care for her the way you react. You’ve grown positively pale.

Care for her? Don’t be ridiculous! I but want what we have all wanted from the moment Clarice and Francis died, Christian said coolly, looking down at Lady Rudd in annoyance.

You cannot fool me, Christian, Clarissa chided and laughed softly. You wear your adolescent love for Gillian upon your coat sleeve. Is it any wonder that none of us ever truly considered your plan? No, it is far easier to get all we want when the child is my ward. Gillian is far too intelligent to not question her son’s inheritance disappearing. You forgot certain details while you lusted after her. She is far from stupid. And she has done naught but distance herself from you. She is free to seek you out and hasn’t. I find that most revealing.

You know nothing of it! Christian glared down at her, his fist bunched at his side, his hooked prosthetic hand shaking at her words.

Face the truth, my lord. She never truly cared for you. Admit it to yourself and be done with her. Had you gotten her onto her back, as you so often bragged of doing, we wouldn’t have to resort to such drastic measures. You have only your love for her to blame. Where has it gotten you?

She doesn’t have to die! She is innocent of all of this! There has to be another way! Christian fought the urge to strangle her. It was you who filled Prinny’s head with these absurd ideas these many months. His eyes skittered to Prince George of Wales, who reigned among a group of nobles across the room, laughing and enjoying being the center of attention. You just saw a way to increase your own standing at Gillian’s expense and nothing more. How would Prinny react to learn about your husband’s condition, Clarissa? You’ve managed to keep George’s impairment a secret. We both know that hapless shell in that bed can’t be long for this world. It must have infuriated you when Gillian bore her husband a son, threatening that tenuous hold to nobility you now have. We both know what passes to that boy when George dies, don’t we? I can only surmise that is why you’re so determined to be rid of the Iverleighs and their son.

I have no real hatred towards Gillian. Or Gabriel for that matter, the Duchess replied smoothly. They were both mere pawns, my lord. I knew when I gave Gillian to Iverleigh how you would react, as you have the moment you learned they wed. It’s quite amusing to see you can’t help yourself where she or he is concerned. This was done for the good of us all, with no personal slight to you intended.

Christian eyed her in blatant dislike. I fail to see how any of this helps you, Your Grace. Their son is, in fact, George’s only heir at the moment, a reality you cannot ignore. So how is Old George faring these days?

George still breathes, I can assure you, Clarissa said tightly, her eyes growing feral. That boy won’t live long enough to gain my husband’s title. Children often die young, my lord. The title will go to Eugenia’s son when she marries. I shall see to it George lives that long.

Isn’t this to be the little shrew’s third Season in as many years? Lord Lyndon rolled his eyes heavenward in amusement. Eugenia’s barbed tongue has slain many a suitor into the dust, my lady. Do not put the cart before the horse with your ambitions for that one.

Do not doubt I will have my way in this, Lord Lyndon. You had your chance to attain Gillian. You failed at it. Had you not hesitated to ruin her, we need not have dealt with a child. Gabriel would have despised Gillian as he did his former wife when her indiscretions were made embarrassingly public. The Earl would have met with an unfortunate accident and you would be doling out our funds. That was your plan, and you failed to follow through, believing she might have cared for you. We do this my way now.

Does it even bother you that more innocents will die? She has nothing to do with any of this! Christian regarded her in open contempt. I have no love for Iverleigh, to be sure, and would not mourn his passing but I draw the line at killing innocents to line my pockets, Your Grace!

A good thing the others here tonight don’t share your fond sentiments. This is merely business, my lord.

Christian said nothing, taking his immediate leave, brooding in his coach as it drew away from the royal residence and passed through the high, wrought-iron gates beyond the palace courtyard. He closed his eyes in frustration to think of what had been decided this night.

He could do nothing for Gillian as much as it pained him. To warn her of what came for her would seal his fate within this despicable group of nobles. He was already treading upon thin ice if his alleged involvement in Lilly’s demise became known.

His helping the group of men who exposed them all for their sins did not bode well for his continued survival. To openly protect Gillian was impossible given his present position.

How it would happen clutched at his heart. Never a hint of foul play would be left to speculate upon for those who would question the matter when it was done. It was the way of things when a royal was involved. The matter of their monies would be resolved tidily and neatly, with no hint of any conspiracy.

She would feel no pain when the time came, Christian consoled himself sorrowfully, even if his own chest constricted sharply to imagine those sea green eyes closing forever, to never see her smile again or to hear her infectious laughter.

Clarissa was right of one thing. He did love Gillian. With every bit of his evil, self-serving heart he loved her. A year away from her made him realize much. After she left London for Iverleigh Hall, he pined for her daily with absurd angst that was very uncharacteristic of him. None of his wanting her did him any good, however.

Gillian returned none of his letters this last year. He knew the matter was hopeless, only encouraged by Gabriel squiring his current mistress about town as the two lived their agreed-upon separate lives.

Had Gillian cared for him she would have taken him as her lover when she fulfilled her part of the marital arrangement. Instead, she fled London, living as a recluse from what he learned from mutual acquaintances.

His failed attempts to get passed the guards at the gates of Iverleigh Hall to get in to see her was a sign Gabriel took no chances with his wife and child’s safety. The place was guarded around the clock, by burly, dangerous-looking men disguised as footmen, woodsmen, and tenant farmers.

Christian was turned away time and time again, his letters going unanswered these many months. He was relieved to know an assassin would have as much difficulty getting to her. The fragile hope he could come up with some plan to save her in time was growing more futile by the moment.

Chapter One

London, England

March 14, 1814

Angeline Weston played at being someone else for most of her life. Born to a little-known actress of great beauty and a noble father she never knew, she was raised within the backdrop of the theatre. When she was a little girl she always dreamed of becoming a great actress one day.

She considered her current role as Lord Iverleigh’s mistress to be the coveted part of her illustrious stage career. The nobleman was as handsome as he was generous. She could find no fault with their arrangement.

She had a beautiful house, a new wardrobe for every season, and received even more notice as an actress due to her speculated relationship with the notorious Earl of Iverleigh.

Angeline had a generous allowance monthly to buy whatever her heart desired, and did. She was the envy of every actress within the Westbury Theatre where she worked, her name featured on the marquee for every major production.

She had everything she could ever want and more. Her life was brimming with possibilities. It was then, in early spring, when she was the toast of the London stage, she discovered she was with child.

All of her careful plans for her future fell to the wayside in an instant. The tonics she purchased from the apothecary failed. She was furious. The thought of her perfect body marred and stretched by a child made her weep bitterly in anger and regret. She didn’t want it.

Angeline discreetly went to an abortionist to resolve the dilemma. She was too much of a coward to proceed after seeing a woman carried out of the dingy back alley writhing in agony. She fled the dank filthy place, feeling sick and depressed to be caught in such a trap.

Angeline faced this newest disaster with anguish. Gabriel St. Armand wouldn’t want her when she grew heavy with his child. He would settle a modest pension on her and walk away. She would be stuck raising his brat while he sought out another mistress. Angeline could see her career aspirations dwindle, her notoriety fading over night. She was determined that would not be the case.

Her blue eyes simmered with anger and resentment. Gabriel had been most neglectful of late. She knew the relationship was over. She expected him to end it every time he came to her house. His estranged wife had much to do with it. She seethed with jealousy that he pined for his new Countess these days.

Gillian St. Armand ensnared her husband’s heart without even trying. She deserved the most admiration for not caring. She might be gone from his sight, but she was ever on Gabriel’s mind these days.

Her lips clenched in anger to recall his unknowingly saying her name recently when they were making love, unaware he revealed who he truly desired.

Angeline listened to every tidbit of gossip associated with the Countess of Iverleigh. She knew her rival withdrew from society after the birth of her son. She lived quietly at one of her husband’s estates in the country. Gabriel never spoke of his wife or his son Julian.

Angeline knew better than to pry into Gabriel’s private affairs, for he would tell her nothing. She considered all of her options at that moment. She was dismayed to realize she had none. She was determined to get as much as she could from this arrangement before he cast her aside.

Gabriel would certainly want his newest bastard. His son from his infamous mistress Catherine Van Ryker, resided with him half the year, and spent the other half with the mother and stepfather.

Angeline was bitter Gabriel never came to care for her. For that reason, she was determined to put a price on their child. She was regretful she got involved with him in retrospect, making a face at her image in the mirror to recall why that was.

The things one is willing to do for coin!

She was delighted to meet the Earl and engage his interest at the bequest of another, remembering how she had been paid once to play the part of his dead first wife to ensnare the killer, Lord Dartmouth.

Unlike most of the men she took as lovers, Gabriel was not led by her incredible beauty. He was hardly affected by her at all. He came to her, slaked his lust, and left soon after. She had everything she could want but despaired of her future.

Angeline glared at her reflection in the mirror of her dressing room, the flickering taper candles casting shadows on her pouting countenance. Her lips tightened as she applied more rouge and powder.

She would have all she wanted of Lord Iverleigh. She smiled with satisfaction at his possible reaction when she told him the news.

Gabriel would want to keep the matter quiet. That wouldn’t do at all. She had every intention of making her condition very public. Lady Iverleigh would learn of it soon. She hoped the lady despised her husband even more for it.

It served her purposes to extort him for his child. With his money, she could leave London for America. New York was fast becoming a haven for actors. The possibilities for her there were limitless without dragging a child along with her.

Her beautiful face hardened with contempt as she contemplated having the child. She had no choice in it now. She was too far along to end it. The defined bump that appeared over night was unmistakable. Her hand shook with disgust as she stroked it thoughtfully.

Angeline was determined to tell Gabriel tonight after her final performance of the long-running play she starred in. He was to meet her at her house later that night. She smiled as she used a horsehair brush to apply rice powder to her pale, perfect cheeks.

Angeline knew he would be furious to know she conceived. Gabriel would no doubt play the part of the trapped lover to the hilt. But in the end, he would pay dearly.

Angeline sighed dramatically. Having a child once seemed such a loathsome prospect at first. But if it assured her future ambitions, she would endure it for that and that alone. She shuddered to think of her perfect body being made unsightly in the next several months, despairing over her lush curves disappearing.

It delighted her that the news of her child would forever fracture the possibility of any future reconciliation with his estranged Countess. Gillian St. Armand would never forgive him for this.

Angeline was smiling in triumph at the thought of destroying any hope Gabriel may have had of winning back his noble wife in the future. Yes, she may be losing her powerful benefactor but she had the satisfaction of knowing Gabriel would never be happy again.

~ ~ ~

You are absolutely sure of this?Gabriel absorbed Angeline’s damning news with uncertainty as he rose from her bed in the wee hours of the morning. He planned to end their affair tonight. He was suspicious she used the news she was with child to prolong it.

Gabriel uttered a curse under his breath as he thought of the ramifications of her condition. News like this would spread like wildfire. His wife would be furious, possibly repay him in kind in some rash manner she was known to employ when angered. He couldn’t risk it. Thinking of his wife’s mercurial temperament made him realize he had best resolve this matter at once.

There is no doubt I’m with child. Angeline was careful to look appropriately bleak as he sent her an accusing stare while he dressed in silence. I know this is a shock, Gabriel. I didn’t plan this, if that is what you think? She eyed his rigid, naked back before he slid into his shirt. She was fuming at his continued silence. She’d been prepared to play the part of the wrongly-vilified mistress. He missed his cue. He was taking the news of her pregnancy with quiet acceptance.

It’s unfortunate, but I can do no less than provide for you and the child, my dear. Gabriel’s voice was heavy with weariness and regret. You needn’t worry I will abandon you, Angeline. I only ask you to say nothing of this. I will not have the matter bandied all over town. We will handle this all very discreetly.

That won’t do at all, my lord. Angeline gave a disparaging sniff, her blue eyes filled with amusement as she saw him stiffen. I have no intention of giving up my career to raise your bastard. I could care less if all know of my condition. I will not hide to protect your carefully resurrected image.

Gabriel turned and eyed his mistress with a look of fury at her threat to go public with her condition. It was sure to create another scandal. The news would no doubt reach his wife’s ears within days. His dark eyes narrowed as he took in her overly-smug features. She was so obvious in her intention to extort him he longed to strangle her if not for his own obvious guilt in the matter. He was livid with anger. He had very much brought this upon himself.

He was lonely after his wife summarily rejected him after she conceived his heir. Gillian refused to see him and wanted her own life after Julian was born. Angeline wormed her way into his bed quite easily, and for a time he was content.

Lately, he began to grow bored with her artifice and shallowness under the surface of her great beauty. He faced the truth he used Angeline to rub the illicit relationship in his wife’s nose for preferring Lord Lyndon to him. And now he was embroiled in yet another mess.

Bloody damn hell!

What do you want from me, Angeline? Gabriel’s dark eyes met hers without wavering. It was obvious money was at the heart of her threats. He had more than enough to keep her quiet and they both knew it.

I hate to interrupt your joy to learn you’re to be a father again by bringing it up, my darling. She lay back upon the satin pillows with a smirk upon her lips. The talk of money makes this all seem so sordid. Let us save this talk for another time, Gabriel.

Don’t play coy with me, Angeline. You aren’t that good of an actress. Gabriel enjoyed seeing her flush at his cruel taunt. How much do you want?

Angeline angrily fluffed the satin pillows behind her and enjoyed keeping him hanging upon her every word. She had a calculated gleam in her eyes. She was well aware the Earl of Iverleigh had come into a considerable fortune since his marriage to Lord Rudd’s younger half sister. She made it her business to learn his financial situation before she became his mistress. He could well afford her terms.

I think one hundred thousand pounds sufficient to end our association to both our satisfaction. She gave a wide smile of pleasure at his outraged gasp. I cannot very well raise this child, now can I? I see it as an inconvenience to my career. We both know how much you adore your other bastard, my love. If you want this child, it shall cost you.

You want to sell me my own child, Angeline?Gabriel felt trapped in the situation by the glimmer of satisfaction in her eyes. She laughed in tinkling merriment at her ultimatum. You seem overly sure I even want it. What would you do if I turned around and walked out of here? I very well could.

We both know that you won’t do that, my lord. Angeline met his angry stare with a sigh of pleasure. You’re far too honorable to ever leave the child with me for I have no desire to play mother. Just think of the scandal when it becomes known you abandoned your pregnant, very famous mistress? Your wife would be humiliated by it. It is just as well you raise the child. The thought of caring for it has no appeal. I know you wouldn’t leave it in my care knowing that. I see it as a means to an end for us both.

Gabriel raked a hand through his tussled golden locks and glared at his mistress, seeing her at once as the petty, shallow fortune hunter she was. If Gillian learned of Angeline’s present condition, he could forget ever seeing more than disdain in her lovely face again.

The thought of what Angeline would do to his child if he walked away made him grow uneasy with guilt. He had no choice. Her blue eyes glittered with triumph as they met his.

I will send over my personal physician to confirm your condition. If you haven’t lied of it, I’ll have my solicitor, Mr. Hines, draw up the papers. I have terms of my own, Angeline. If you fail to adhere to them you get nothing. Gabriel stood over her bed shaking in restrained ire. You will keep silent about your condition, for one. You will quit the theatre at once. If this becomes public knowledge—you get nothing. Don’t think I cannot persuade the courts to take the child from you in the event you take this to a lower level. It’s only for my wife’s good reputation that I deal with you at all.

We both know why you want to keep your wife from learning of this, Darling. She has quite recreated your whole image, has she not?Angeline licked her lips in relish, enjoying his discomfort. "You care so much to protect her feelings.