It was nearly dawn by the time they reached London and Caleb procured a suite of rooms for her as Mrs. Durant at the Hotel Purley in Wilton Street.

Lee found the entire scene oddly depressing. Perhaps her dark mood was the reason Caleb accompanied her up to the suite but decided not to stay, simply promised to return later that afternoon, after she'd had time to settle in and catch a few precious hours of sleep.

Staring down at the street below the window, Lee watched him mount the black and ride off down the lane, her emotions in turmoil. Part of her wanted to call him back, to seduce him into making love to her. Another part was glad he was leaving. She needed time to collect herself, to think about the decision she had made and what it meant for her future.

For a while she padded around the suite, trailing her fingers over the rosewood furniture, examining a small silver box on the hearth, sitting for a while on the dark green velvet sofa. The bedchamber was large and airy, with a four-poster bed enclosed by elegant sea-green bed hangings that matched the draperies at the window.

Changing out of her riding habit into a night rail, she climbed into bed, but as tired and depressed as she was, she still couldn't fall asleep. Instead, she tossed and turned, finally gave up and returned to the sitting room. Thinking of Caleb's upcoming visit that afternoon cheered her a little—until she received a note telling her he had been summoned by his superiors to a meeting in Whitehall. He hoped, the note said, to see her that evening but he wasn't certain when.

For the first time, Lee began to understand the true nature of being a mistress.

More depressed than ever, she returned to bed late in the afternoon. She fell asleep thinking about Caleb and dreamed of him in bed with a sophisticated courtesan who looked remarkably like Vermillion.


"Congratulations, Captain Tanner. You and Major Sutton are to be commended on the excellent job you did in stopping the leak at Parklands."

"Thank you, Colonel." Caleb stood across the battered desk where his silver-haired superior sat working. "I only wish we had been able to prevent the death of Marie LeCroix and catch the man masterminding the ring. As long as he is free, the threat to England remains."

"I cannot disagree. However, that is no longer your concern."

"Colonel?"

"Your part in the investigation, Captain, has come to an end. You were chosen for the assignment because we needed a man who knew the business of horse racing. As a friend of your father's, General Wellesley was aware of your expertise. He was also acquainted with your very impressive service record. Which is why he has requested you remain under his command as a member of his specialist troops."

The colonel smiled. "The general has ordered me to extend your stay for two additional weeks so that you may visit your family. After that time you are ordered to return to Spain, where you will report directly to the general himself."

Two weeks. That was all the time he had with Lee. He should have been elated, overjoyed by Wellesley's continued interest, which practically insured future promotions and the chance for a brilliant career.

Instead, he felt sick to his stomach.

"Thank you, Colonel. That's extremely good news. However, I was wondering if it might be possible for me to remain in London until the investigation is concluded. As you know, my knowledge of the case is extensive. I feel I might be more valuable here than—"

"I'm sorry. I understand you may have come to feel personally involved in this, but orders are orders." The colonel came to his feet behind the desk. "Do not despair, Captain Tanner. Continue as you have been, and you will go far in this army."

Caleb forced himself to smile. "I hope so, sir."

"Enjoy your brief time off. Give my best to your father and at the end of your leave, report back here to me. I'll have transport arranged for your return to Spain and subsequent reunion with Wellesley. Till that time, you are dismissed, Captain Tanner."

Caleb made a smart salute, left the office, and returned to his father's Mayfair town house. He would be leaving London far sooner than he had expected. He had hoped to have more time with Lee, time to consider his options. Now he knew that wasn't going to happen.

As he stepped inside the imposing brick residence in Berkeley Square, crossed the entry and headed down the hall, the house felt cold and empty as it never had before. When he reached the study, he walked over to a sideboard and poured himself a drink. Carrying the brandy glass over to the desk, he sank into the deep leather chair, filled with an unexpected despair.

The question he had pondered all afternoon returned with relentless force. What to do about Lee?


Lee slept for a while, then spent the balance of the day wandering around the suite waiting for Caleb. The later it got, the more her irritation grew. She wasn't the sort to sit there doing nothing, at the beck and call of her lover.

Surely Aunt Gabby hadn't done that. Had she?

Surely Caleb didn't expect her to. Did he?

Then again, she wasn't sure what Caleb expected. She was Vermillion Durant. It was Vermillion who had agreed to become his mistress. The notion bothered her more than it should have.

It was evening and still she hadn't heard from him. The longer she waited, the more her agitation swelled. By the time his second note arrived, telling her he wouldn't be there till nearly midnight, she was furious.

He wanted a mistress? Well, fine—she would give him one!

Storming into the bedchamber, she dragged out the satchel she had brought with her from Parklands. There wasn't much inside, but among the few items was the sheer, lavender silk nightgown her aunt had given her for her birthday. The sleeveless gown had a vee of lavender lace in front that ran clear to her navel. Lee rang for a chambermaid, who brought her scissors, thread, and a needle; cut out the lace; then cut off the ankle-length sweep of silk and hemmed it up. When she put it on, it exposed all but her nipples and barely covered the cheeks of her bottom.

Perfect.

She hadn't brought any face paint. The rice powder she could do without, but the kohl… In a moment of inspiration, she knelt in front of the hearth and swept a bit of coal dust into an empty glass. Carrying it over to the dresser, she sat down in front of the mirror and went to work, darkening the burnished color of her lashes, feathering the black dust carefully around her eyes. Though it made them look huge and blue-green, she still didn't look enough like Vermillion.

What to do… ?

A second inspiration struck. Tugging on the bell cord to ring for a servant, she ordered a bowl of fresh berries brought up from the kitchen. They were bright red and delicious, she discovered as she dipped them, one by one, into a little silver bowl of clotted cream and popped them into her mouth.

It was the juice she wanted and she found more than enough in the bottom of the bowl. As soon as she finished the fruit, she used the juice to darken her lips then watered it a little and used it to color her cheeks. Her bravado growing by the moment, she dabbed the last of the juice onto each of her nipples, rouging them as she knew a number of Cyprians often did.

Satisfied at last, she ran a brush through her hair, fanning the dark red curls out around her shoulders. Carefully surveying her handiwork, she grinned at the wild, seductive creature staring back at her in the mirror.

Caleb wanted a mistress. He was going to get one!

It was late, nearly midnight, before she heard the tread of his boots on the stairs. She was dressed and ready, pacing the floor in wait for him. At the light knock on the door, she took a steadying breath and pasted on her practiced smile. Turning the handle on the door, she jerked it open and invited him in.

He wasn't wearing his uniform, she saw, just a pair of fawn-colored breeches and a dark brown broadcloth tailcoat. His eyes briefly touched hers where she stood in the open doorway and for an instant he smiled. Then his gaze took in her kohl-darkened eyes, rouged lips and cheeks, and the smile disappeared.

Caleb frowned. "What the hell is this?"

Her lips curved even more. "Welcome home, darling. There's cold meat and cheese on the table beside the hearth. There's a nice claret to go with it, and brandy, of course. Why don't you sit down and relax? I'll fix you a plate and pour you a drink."

She turned to walk away, giving him a glimpse of her bottom. She hadn't got more than a couple of steps when Caleb caught her arm and spun her around to face him.

"Whatever game you're playing, you may end it right now. I don't think it is the least bit funny."

She battered her long, sooty lashes. "Why, darling, whatever do you mean? I am hardly playing a game. You are paying for this room, are you not? For the food we're about to eat, for the… entertainment afterward. I merely want to make certain you get your money's worth."

Caleb caught the tops of her arms and hauled her closer. "Stop it. Stop this right now." He shook her, not gently. "This whole thing was your idea, not mine. I never expected you to behave like a trollop. We both know you aren't one and you never have been."

Her smiled slipped a little. "But I will be, won't I, Caleb? After you're gone? And you did pledge to my aunt you would teach me all I need to know to continue in the role I will be playing."

His eyes darkened to nearly black. "I went to your aunt because I was hoping she might help me persuade you. I would have promised her anything in order to have you." The edge of his mouth barely curved. "But I have always been a man of my word. If it's a lesson you want, sweeting, I'll be more than happy to oblige."