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Sighing heavily, he sat back down at the desk, checking his pocket watch. Back to work, at least for the moment. He picked up the next letter on top of the pile, staring down at it distractedly.
An invitation to a charity event at St. Anne’s Orphanage, in the Almonry, a very poor area of London. He frowned, hesitating. Should he attend?
But then, he thought of what his father would do in this situation. The late Duke had always lectured him on the importance of helping the poor, saying that it was part of the duties of privilege. And he could be in and out quickly. Just enough time to see what they did at the orphanage and pledge some coin to help matters.
He put the letter into another pile. Mr. Godwin, who had been his father’s man of affairs and was now his, would answer it on his behalf, saying that he would be pleased to attend. And then he put it out of his mind entirely.
There was a knock at the door. He pushed aside the documents with a pleased sigh. He knew what this interruption would be. It was almost spot on the appointed time.
“Enter,” he commanded.
The door opened. Gordon, of course, with rather a pinched look on his face. Behind him was a woman dressed in a fine primrose silk and muslin gown. She had glossy dark hair, as black as ebony, which fell in tight ringlets around her lovely face. Her eyes were a murky sea green and very direct.
“Miss Gardener, your Grace,” said Gordon. “You are expecting her.”
“Of course,” said Jackson, getting up. “Miss Gardener. What a pleasure to see you again. You are wishing to speak to me about a charity matter?”
The woman dimpled, curtseying politely. If she was surprised by what he had just said, she wasn’t betraying it at all. “Yes, your Grace.”
He turned to the butler. “That will be all, Gordon.”
“Very good, your Grace.” The butler left, closing the door firmly behind him.
Jackson slowly walked up to the woman while studying her closely. She had done a very good job, of looking the part of a lady, down to the crisp white lace gloves and tasteful pearls hanging from her ears. An exceptional job. If he had encountered her at a high society event, he would have been completely fooled.
But he had been most specific in his instructions, and he paid very good coin for it. The courtesan must look and act like a lady. He didn’t want any of the servants gossiping that he was entertaining harlots in the home. And she wouldn’t be here very long, after all. Just enough time to give him some much-needed release from the hell that had been his week.
“Miss Gardener,” he said slowly, taking her hand, and kissing it. “What a very great pleasure indeed.”
She smiled prettily at him, her eyes flickering over his face. He noted her reaction to his scar, but she quickly masked it. Well, itwasher job, after all. This game of pretence that they were just beginning to play.
“Your Grace,” she breathed, sidling up to him, trailing a hand down his right arm. A whiff of rose scented perfume surrounded him. His loins stirred.
Hungrily, he grabbed her, breathing in the sweet smell of that perfume on her neck. She expertly ran her hands down his chest, towards his manhood. He closed his eyes in ecstasy as she slowly and surely stroked him.
He knew that this would have to stop. He had promised his father that he would reform, leave behind his life of being entertained by doxies. That he must rise to the challenges of the dukedom now and seriously try to find a real lady to marry and have that much needed heir.
A pang of misgiving about it stabbed him in the chest. It was going to be a very hard endeavour, to find a lady who could see past his scar, despite his title and wealth. A lady who would accept him just the way he was and even perhaps like him. For he did not want a fortune hunter. Foolishly perhaps, he wanted a lady who actually admired him, and who he admired and respected as well.
He didn’t hope for love. That seemed rather too much to expect of life, after all he had been through.
Swiftly, he pushed all of it aside. He wasn’t going to think about it now – it could wait until another day. Right now, he had a willing woman in his arms, who was pretending quite marvellously that she actually desired him. And that was all he wanted in this particular moment. Just the blessed peace of forgetting his troubles, if only for a little while.
