Romancing a spinster

Chapter 1

*********THIS IS AN EXCERPT*******

25 March, 1821
Rome, Italy

Jacob was lounging on a chair and Mrs. Valentina  Lombardi, the most sought after courtesan in Rome was sprawled on his lap, her lush body pressed to his as she tried to coax a reaction out of him. He knew all the other men watching him envied him. But for the life of him, he couldn't muster any enthusiasm for the act.

Instead of finding her perfume enticing, he found it cloying. The smoke from the cigars made him feel suffocated.

What was ironical was that Jacob had made this his life. He'd thrived in the darkness of this club, on all the temptations it offered. This lifestyle had numbed his feelings, his hurt. In fact, he often wondered if there was any compassion left in his blackened heart.

There wasn't.

"Not today," he murmured. The courtesan pulled back, pouting her disappointment. She knew it was pointless to try and move him now.

"I'm sorry, I'm sure one of those men would be more than happy to take my place," he said, kissing the back of her hand and signalled to the group of lads ogling her from the tables.

"They're hardly even out of shortpants," she huffed, but smiled hesitantly. "I suppose they'll have to do then," she said and got up from his lap. Jacob grinned at her usage of 'they' as she sashayed towards the eager lads.

But the smile on his face didn't last long. He got up and left the club, deciding to walk to his apartments.

He was so bloody angry. And confused.

His uncle-Viscount Townshend had written to him asking for his presence in England-he was dying. Under normal circumstances, Jacob wouldn't have hesitated to go, he'd always loved his uncle.

Had.

At least until he'd banished him seven years ago. He'd been twenty three then, barely a man.

Jacob lost his parents when he was a child. His uncle, having no children himself had raised him despite his aunt's disapproval. And then, it was all taken away from him. The comfort of his home, the love of his uncle, his friends–hell his entire life.

Why? Because his aunt had finally gotten into her husband's head.

Jacob had come to Italy almost penniless and friendless. He'd spent his first few months drowning his sorrow in whiskey, not understanding what he'd done wrong. But then he'd slowly built a life here and now he ran a successful ship building company with his associate. His uncle had sent him money and numerous letters every year and Jacob had returned the envelopes unopened. He didn't need anybody's charity.

He'd finally put his life in England behind him. He'd done everything that he had to do to succeed, not even stopping at blackmail. Now he had power, a fortune and independence, never mind that it had come at the expense of his soul.

His friends here often joked saying Jacob had sold his soul to the Devil when he'd come here. He quite agreed with them. He had no morals and no shame. He took what he wanted without any remorse and that was exactly why he was rolling in money and sin today.

Which was why this summon from his uncle bothered him. He had written to Jacob's solicitor this time, knowing he wouldn't even open the old man's letter.

This could only mean one thing. He was to inherit his uncle's viscountcy. No matter how much his uncle had hurt him, the thought of him dying did strange things to him-it made him feel. And Jacob had little time or patience for feelings in his life. Also, he didn't know if he wanted this viscountcy.