She raised her eyes to his, their ginger colour intense with emotion. He felt excited and faintly sick, as if he’d twirled round and round like he’d done as a child, making the world spin when he stopped. Her scheme was as daring as it was foolish.
He tried another tactic to dissuade her. ‘If you are discovered, the blame will fall on me.’
‘On you?’ She looked perplexed. ‘Why should it?’
He shook his head in impatience. ‘I am next door to you, Morgana. Someone is bound to think me the mastermind.’ He released her. ‘There are those in town who desire my ruin. They are eager to believe the worst of me. My family, for one. I can guarantee that if my father gets wind of this he will make sure I am banned from any respectable drawing room for the rest of my life.’
Her eyes softened. ‘Your father hates you so much?’
‘Yes,’ he admitted gruffly, taken aback at how easily her sympathy opened his old wounds.
She leaned against the door, a frustrated expression on her lovely face.
Clutching at straws, he added, ‘And you must think of your cousin as well. If you are ruined, the scandal will fall upon her too.’
Her eyes flashed at him. She did not speak for several seconds and then in a whisper. ‘How am I to choose between ruining you, or ruining Hannah, or ruining those poor girls? Tell me how I am to do that?’
He responded in a soft voice. ‘What of ruining yourself?’
She waved a dismissive hand.
He blew out a breath. He could not dispute the fact that those girls would be better off selling themselves for a high price than for a cheap one. They had all fallen from grace already; few who fell managed to climb up again. Some temptation always pulled at them, luring them back to the low life, as he well knew. He felt it. Felt it now. The lure of danger, excitement, relief from the crushing boredom of life as a gentleman.
He frowned. ‘What did you intend to do with The Whoremonger’s Guide?’
Her lip trembled. ‘I need someone to tutor the girls in… in what I do not know about being a courtesan. I thought Harriette Wilson might do it.’ She looked at him through her lashes. ‘Because I do not know how to contact her, I am forced to use the book to find a tutor.’
Quite right, he thought. ‘Harriette would not be a wise choice,’ he said pensively. ‘She has a loose tongue. Half the ton would know in no time.’ He rubbed his chin. ‘You need someone with more discretion.’
‘I will find such a person, then.’ Her voice became adamant.
‘No, Morgana.’ If she used that infernal book, she entered a different world, a world where the rules were not civilised. ‘It will not do for you.’ He paused. He suddenly felt seized with life and energy. Plans formed in his head in spite of his better judgement. He cleared his throat, and bit back a smile of anticipation. ‘I will find your tutor.’
‘You will?’ she cried and flung her arms around him. ‘Oh, thank you, Mr Sloane!’
Giddy and exhilarated, he lifted her off the ground and spun her about. When her feet again landed on the floor, she gazed into his eyes like a kindred spirit. He wanted to press her against him, taste her lips, show her how man might plunder a willing woman, a woman as wild as he was.
He caught himself and pulled away.
It was so easy to act the rake. So damned easy.
Chapter Nine
Morgana’s cheeks burned with embarrassment. She had flung herself at him like some sort of hoyden. But more mortifying, he had pushed her away—again.
She held her breath a moment and promised herself to forget this… this attraction to him. It was enough he’d agreed to help her, no matter that he’d done so for Hannah’s sake, for she was certain that that had been the deciding factor for him.
‘Would… would you like to meet them? The girls, I mean,’ she stammered.
He glanced away, then turned his warm eyes back on her and gave his lazy smile. ‘Why the devil not?’
Her heart danced, completely ignoring her vow not to let him affect her so. She led him from the stairway, enlivened by his company, relieved that she was no longer alone in her enterprise. ‘Come then.’
Morgana led him to the library, knocking before she slipped into the room alone. The girls looked up. Miss Moore smiled at her. Her grandmother chirped, ‘How lovely to see you, my dear.’
‘I have brought someone for you to meet. Someone who will help us.’ Morgana stepped aside for Sloane to enter.
‘Gracious,’ cried Katy, jumping to her feet.
Miss Moore looked shocked, but Lady Hart smiled. ‘How lovely of you to call, dear.’
‘This is Mr Sloane,’ Morgana announced. ‘He is our neighbour… and…’ she gave him a quick glance ‘… a man who can do many things. He has volunteered to find our tutor.’
Morgana made the introductions and, as if he’d met them in an elegant drawing room on Grosvenor Square, he greeted them with respect. She watched in wonder how his kind attentions to them made them sit up straighter and hold their heads higher, appearing more like ladies than otherwise.
‘Do you honestly know a tutor, sir?’ Rose asked, blinking her wide green eyes and speaking in her melodious brogue.
Sloane’s voice had a catch in it when he answered, ‘I have someone in mind.’ He gave the girl a long look.
Morgana stiffened. She tried to tell herself it was good that he showed his attraction to Rose. It would help remind her that he was not attracted to her, but to her cousin.
He turned to her. ‘I’d best take my leave.’
‘I will see you out,’ Morgana said, trying not to show her unexpected little surge of jealousy.
When he faced the assembly of women and bowed in a gentlemanly manner, Morgana felt like hugging him again for his kindness to them. She wished he would call upon them often so the girls could learn how a man ought to treat them.
Morgana gave herself a silent rebuke. It was she who wished his company for herself.
She led him out of the room and started for the front door.
He caught her arm. ‘Through the back. You have a gap through our garden wall that I passed through.’
Understanding dawned. ‘That is how you got in.’
He favoured her with a wicked wink in reply.
They descended the stairs and reached the door to the garden. Morgana did not wish him to leave.
‘What do you think of them, Mr Sloane?,’ she asked. Anything to detain him a moment longer.
He gave her a contemplative frown. ‘Do you truly wish my opinion?’
A frisson of anxiety crept up her back. Was he about to scold her again? ‘Yes, of course.’
‘Rose O’Keefe will rise to the top, I suspect.’ He spoke in a detached manner, and, in spite of herself, Morgana was pleased. He apparently had not been as captivated by Rose as she’d thought.
He went on. ‘Katy Green is trouble, and I would watch out for her.’
Morgana knew that as well.
He shook his head in dismay. ‘I confess, I cannot picture either Miss Phipps or your Lucy in the role at all.’
She sighed. ‘I cannot either, but there