The Perfect Temptation (42 page)

New, it had cost close to twenty
pounds. Melted down into

bullion
it
would have
been worth between twelve and fifteen.

Anyone with any knowledge of
silver would have asked ten

for it. "For the entire
set?" Alex asked, dumbfounded.

"Is it too much? My granddaughter
brought
'
em to
me.

Said they was gifts that she
didn't know what to do with.

From admirers. I don't get silver
often 'nough to know what

folks is payin' for it these
days."

Obviously.
And that ignorance was costing the woman a

profit she just as obviously
needed. Desperately. To offer her a

fair market price would require
doubling her request. Which

would be a decidedly strange
thing to do. People didn't shop

in secondhand stores unless they
were in search of bargains.

And the woman might take the
increase as an offer of pity and

charity. Alex didn't want to
insult her. But she didn
'
t want to

rob her, either.

Aiden came out of the tunnel,
squared up, and stepped toward

the makeshift counter, saying,
"Five pounds is quite

acceptable, madam."

Even as Alex met his gaze in
frustration and consternation,

the old woman nodded and said,
"Sold."

He cocked a brow and mouthed,
"What?"

"Look at this
place,"
she answered in kind, gesturing

broadly.
"Look at her!"

Frowning, his brows knitted, he
shook his head and

reached into the inside breast
pocket of his coat, saying, ''May

I ask your name, madam?"

Alex sagged in defeat. The woman
stared unseeingly at

Aiden and warily asked, "Why
would ya want to know?"

"I never do business with
people I don
'
t
know by name.

An
odd quirk these days, I know, but business has become
so

coldly impersonal in recent
years. I prefer the older way of

conducting such affairs."

"Dora Elmore," she
supplied, nodding. "And you be?"

"Reginald Majors. And this
is my wife, Millicent."

Millicent? Reginald?
Why was he making up names for

them?

Aiden took Dora's free hand and
laid a five-pound note in

her palm, saying, "It's a
pleasure to do business with you,

Mrs. Elmore."

"Yes," Alex added,
watching the woman rub the bill between

her fingers. "Thank you for
having what I needed. I'm

so glad to have found it."

"Would you be needin' the
other two sets?" Dora asked.

"Don't get many people in
here lookin' for silver an' with

the money to ac'ly buy it."

Aiden glanced down at the other
bundles on the counter.

"Five pounds for each of the
others, as well?"

"Would be 'nother ten pounds
together."

"Millicent?"

Like the Westerham silver, they
were badly underpriced.

But better that Dora Elmore make
a little something today,

Alex told herself, than having
the silver tossed into the refuse

bin when she died. "Your
sisters will someday marry,"

she said, continuing the
unnecessary charade. "We could

save the sets for them."

Aiden winked, pulled two more
five-pound notes out of

his wallet and turned back to the
woman. "Very well,
Mrs.

Elmore," he said brightly,
pressing the additional bills into

her hand. "We'll take all
three. And thank you for sparing

me the ordeal of looking for
wedding gifts in the future. You

can't know how very grateful I
am."

"I'm even more so,"
Alex muttered under her breath.

Dora chuckled. "Thank ya,
Mr.
Majors.
Mrs. Majors. God

bless you both."

They took their leave, scooting
down the pathway, Aiden

carrying the silver bundles, Alex
holding her skirts close and

watching the old woman grin
toothlessly at the cash in her

hand.
Fifteen measly pounds,
Alex
thought sadly as she followed

Aiden out onto the walkway. It
should have been thirty.

"Did you see the look on her
face?" Aiden said softly as

they made their way toward
Barrett's waiting carriage.

"She's never in her life
held fifteen pounds in her hand at

one moment."

"She's never held so much as
two, Aiden. And the saddest

thing is that all this silver is
easily worth twice what she

asked for it. I was trying to
think of a way to offer her a fair

amount when you stepped in and
accepted."

He stopped abruptly. "Is
that what all that was about?" he

asked in genuine surprise and
obvious regret. "Aw, Jesus.

I'm sorry, Alex. I thought you
were thinking about talking

her down, not up, and I didn't
care what we paid for it as

long as we got it back and were
done."

'That's all right," she
acceded on a sigh. Glancing back at

the shop, she added, "I just
feel sorry for her. Old and blind

and crippled and poor. With a
granddaughter who's apparently

not only a tart, but also a thief
and a not very bright one

at that."

"Why do you say that?"

"In the first place, she
stole monogrammed silver, which

is the easiest to trace and so
the most difficult to fence," she

explained as they resumed their
course. "And when she

couldn't find a fence willing to
buy it, she gave it to her

grandmother to sell in a junk
shop instead of melting it down

and selling it as bullion."

"You
know," he mused, chuckling, as they reached the

coach, "the world should be
glad that you're an honest

woman, Alexandra Radford. You'd
make a very good thief."

Opening the door, he looked up at
the driver. "Seaman's

Mercantile Bank, please."

Alex managed to contain her
curiosity until they were under

way.
"If
I
might ask ... Why are we going to a bank?"

"Lord Westerham gave Barrett
two hundred pounds just

for buying back the silver."

"Dear Lord, Aiden. I didn't
know that anyone could be that

desperate. Two hundred? That's a
positively
insane
amount of

money."

He nodded. "And handing one
hundred and ninety-five

back to him rubs against my
grain. It's money he'll never

miss."

"You're not going to keep
it," she said, appalled at the

only course she could see and
unable to believe that Aiden

would do something so
underhanded.

"In
a manner of speaking, yes, I am," he replied
happily.

"I'm going to place it in
trust with instructions that two

pounds be sent in the name of Mr.
and Mrs. Reginald Majors

to Mrs. Dora Elmore in
Whitechapel on the first day of every

month for the rest of her life.
If
she passes
before the funds

are exhausted, the balance can go
to an orphanage."

''That's why you made up the
names!"

"I hope they really don't
exist. I
 
was thinking on my feet

and picked the first names that
popped into my head."

She forgave him for the horrible
behavior while shopping,

for giving her a name like
Millicent, for everything.

"What if Dora outlives the
funds?"

"Then I'll replenish the
coffer myself for as long as

necessary," he said with a
shrug. "Twenty-four pounds a year

isn't much."

"You're a very good man,
John Aiden Terrell."

His eyes sparkled and his smile
tripped her heart. "I was

hoping you'd think so. It's all
part
of my grand
strategy, you

know. I'm figuring that if you
think I might be in the queue

for sainthood, you'll let down
your guard."

"You are so very good. Has
any woman ever been able to

resist you?"

"
Lady Ogden. But I really don't think she should count

against me. Rumor has it that she
prefers women."

Alex considered him, her heart
fluttering and light. In the

part of her brain that ordered
and aligned the world, she

knew that he wasn't good for her.
He was temptation without

commitment, joy without
restraint. When the paths of their

lives inevitably diverged, her
soul was going to ache with

missing him. But it was too late
to avoid that consequence;

she'd come too far already. There
was nothing to be gained

in turning back. Nothing at all.
She wasn't sure what good

was to
be
ultimately
gained in going forward, but she knew

Aiden well enough to suspect that
the journey to discovery

would be magnificent.

"What are you thinking,
Alex?"

Ah, so silken, so seductively
smooth. He knew precisely

what she was thinking. ''That
neither one of us is ever going

to be a saint."

He rakishly cocked a brow.
"
Disappointed?"

"Not in the least."

He shook his head slowly and
expelled a long, slow