Page 17 of Taming of the Rake
“You must realize there is a chanceIcannot sire children? I have always been careful, but even so … as far as I’m aware there are no consequences of my past affairs, of which there have been many. What then?”
She came to her feet, hands folded neatly before her. She was calm again, the befuddling reaction caused by mention of her dead husband melting away. The man must have been a right bastard for her to react to the mere thought of him with such disdain. Thinking back to her mention of numerous affairs, David decided it made sense. No woman wanted to be made a fool of, and it sounded as if Mr. Hurst had had little regard for her feelings in the matter.
“I understand the risk, but it would be no different were I to take a lover in the hopes he could see the job done. I am willing to put my money and my best efforts into it if you are.”
“And if not me, then someone else, obviously.”
“I ask you not to judge me too harshly, Mr. Graham,” she said, her voice low but bolstered with a steely edge. “You cannot fathom what I have endured, what I have lost over the years, and what I have been deprived of. A child of my own is the one thing I want most in the world, and I will not be made to feel as if there something wrong with me doing what I must to have it.”
David’s shoulders sagged, and he was struck once more with what a pitiful, lonely sight Mrs. Hurst made. The haunted depths of her eyes held a thousand secrets, lending truth to her assertion that he had no idea what she had endured or the reason for her desperation.
“I would never judge you, Mrs. Hurst. I am only taken aback by your request, as I’m certain you can understand.”
She came to her feet, but took care not to get too close to him—something that was beginning to press on his curiosity as well as his annoyance. The woman was inviting him into her bed while acting as if he were a viper.
It was certainly a departure from what he was accustomed to.
“If you need any further inducement, consider that I am prepared to offer you a very generous bonus of five thousand pounds if we are successful. I cannot pretend to know what drives a man to become a courtesan, but I suppose money must have something to do with it? If funds are any enticement to you at all, perhaps that might help you push any reservations aside. I am quite desperate, Mr. Graham.”
He blinked, uncertain he’d heard her correctly. Five thousand pounds on top of his usual monthly rate was nothing to turn his nose up at. In fact, even if it only took him one month to impregnate Mrs. Hurst, the bonus would be more than enough to pull the estate back from the brink of ruin. It would give him the sort of security he so desperately needed. He could refuse her offer, but there was no guarantee Benedict would be able to secure another arrangement so close to home. There would never be an opportunity like this one, and David was as desperate as she.
Was he really considering going through with this? The proposal was about more than the use of his body for a short time. In the past, there had only been pleasure and a parting of ways with David confident he’d done his best to satisfy the client. Never had he finished an arrangement knowing he had left something behind—something tangible and real, with ten fingers and toes and his blood coursing through its veins.
“Would you permit me time to think it over?” he asked. “I understand time is of the essence, so I promise not to take too long. I’m sure you understand that this is more than I was expecting when I arrived today.”
Her placid expression underwent a slight shift, sympathy and understanding showing through. “Of course. It is a lot to ask.”
That was a gross understatement. Thankfully, he had just bought himself a few days, at the very least, to consider the ramifications of such an agreement.
“You may send a message with your response,” she added. “I will understand if you refuse. Thank you for listening, at least.”
“You’re very welcome.”
At a loss as to what else to do or say, he executed a stiff bow and then turned in the direction of the house. Mrs. Hurst remained where he’d left her, but Powell fell in step with him. The servant guided him through the house and to the entrance hall, where he called for another footman to send for David’s horse. While they stood waiting for the beast to be brought from the stables, Powell turned to David, pinning him with a hard, dark gaze.
“A word, if I may, sir?”
David was surprised that the man had thought to ask permission to speak, but then remembered a footman was addressing him. Livery aside, Powell’s size and bearing struck him as decidedly authoritative. That, and the fact that he looked as if he could crush David like a grape.
“Erm … of course.”
“My mistress deserves whatever happiness she can get after what she’s been through. It isn’t my place to divulge the details, but you should know … no one would be a better mother than Mrs. Hurst. You are in a position to give it to her, and better your own circumstances while you’re at it. What have you to lose?”
A groom arrived with David’s horse, freeing him from having to respond. And what was he to say to that? The man made it clear he wouldn’t give voice to whatever had happened to Mrs. Hurst under the thumb of her late husband. However, it was abundantly clear that she was a miserable sort of person. If having a child would change that, could David be the one to provide that for her? Could he knowingly sire a child on someone and then walk away without a look back?
His head had already begun to pound as he set off for the ride home, and he had a feeling it would get no better. It seemed he was damned no matter what he decided.
Chapter 4
“The Earl of K and his wife of 6 years have taken up residence in London for Christmas, along with their gaggle of children—not a surprising development, though they rarely bring their entire brood to Town. More interesting is the presence of one, Captain W, a former army officer who has long been a friend of the earl and his wife. This writer does wonder why the couple is rarely seen without the man—a confirmed bachelor seemingly with no plans to take a wife. Curious, indeed …”
-The London Gossip,7 December 1819
“Mrs. Hurst?” Petra murmured, peering at David over the rim of her teacup.
She and Constantia gave him matching looks of curiosity at his query concerning their neighbor—the woman who might potentially become his new client and the mother of his child.
No, nothischild. The transactional nature of their arrangement meant that he was, in essence, selling her a part of himself. David would have no claim on the babe, and wasn’t certain he would want to if given the choice. He was barely hanging on by a thread, hands filled with matters of the estate and caring for his family. The last thing he needed was another mouth to feed.
