Page 66 of A Cinderella to Redeem the Earl
Pamela sighed and stirred in her sleep.
Damian held perfectly still, for some reason wishing to maintain the feeling of oneness for a moment.
Even as the thought occurred to him, he shook off the odd longing and eased his arm from beneath her body and slipped out of the bed.
She stirred again.
He pulled the covers up over her bare shoulder, leaned over her and brushed her cheek with his lips. Her mouth seemed to curve in a smile.
She really was quite lovely.
And the fact that she had not been an innocent maiden made his task all the easier.
Calming maidenly fears had been one of the few things with which he had little or no experience. He had found the thought daunting.
Instead, he had discovered she was a deliciously sensual woman, who had given him one of the most pleasurable nights of his life.
He pulled his shirt on over his head and gazed down at her. With her hair burnished by the morning light spread across the pillow and her face in sweet repose she looked as sweet and innocent as an angel.
Perhaps he should forget about ruining her and her family and simply enjoy their relationship, here in the quiet of the countryside away from prying eyes.
Without doubt, if he continued the course he had chosen, their affair would end instantly and on a very sour note.
He shook his head at his foolishness. His weakness. He should know better than anyone that appearances were deceiving. Pamela was no innocent miss. And her family had played a major part in the ruination of all he had held dear.
The grand crescendo to his revenge was all arranged. The stage set and the play to open three weeks from today at his first society ball in his newly furbished London town house.
The invitations had gone out and the replies were flooding in.
No stopping things now.
Nor did he have the right. For the last ten years of his life his every waking moment had been building towards this end. To stop now not only would be a betrayal of the promise he had made to his parents, but would surely mean he had lost every last shred of his honour by being too cowardly to take action, because he feared being hurt by the consequences. Again.
The recollection of his cowardice all those years ago left a bitter taste in his mouth.
He would never forgive himself.
Damian had watched as his father opened the letter from Vicar Lamb. Watched his hope turn to despair and then rage. The letter had rejected all claims of culpability, denied any knowledge of the scheme that had brought in thousands of pounds and expressed false regret at being without the financial wherewithal to help. Sick at heart, Damian’s father had tossed the letter on the fire, but Damian remembered every word.
Not long after that, his dear sweet gentle mother had become ill and when she died Damian had sworn to avenge her death. It had taken him years to reach this point.
The satisfaction of achieving his goal would make the years of struggle worthwhile.
As he had intended, he finished dressing in his room and headed for Town.
Chapter Eleven
Three days later, Pamela, seated in the study, going through the menus for the following day, could not quite believe how easily she had settled into her new life as a partner, both in business and as Damian’s lover.
She enjoyed both aspects of her life. Preparing for the parties at the house, making sure they ran properly, was her first priority. Overseeing both the new cook and the rather dramatic Chandon was a challenge she also enjoyed and tested her organisational abilities to the full. Watching her nest egg grow in the ledger accounting for her part of the profits was especially satisfying.
The cottage she had imagined in her mind was no longer a vague fanciful daydream. It was now a possibility which she would soon turn into reality. If only she did not have such nagging doubts about the amount of money their guests were spending.
At least they were not getting as badly dipped as at first. After the evening when she had expressed reservations about the enormous pile of vowels they had accepted, the number had dwindled to very few.
When she enquired about it of Monsieur Phillippe, he had said that she was right to be concerned about the issue, because when they sold those vowels to a money lender, they were hugely discounted. It really was not worth their while to accept IOUs from those who likely were unable to pay their debts immediately, if ever. The fact that Damian and Monsieur Phillippe had listened to and acted on her concern had pleased her enormously.
One consequence of this new policy was that the number of people attending the parties had fallen. Not dramatically, but noticeably.
