Bargaining With a Rake (A Whisper of Scandal Novel) (9 page)

BOOK: Bargaining With a Rake (A Whisper of Scandal Novel)
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Today I told him I wished to marry
him, but he said it couldn’t work. He’s to marry another, has probably known
for weeks and weeks that he will. Why didn’t he tell me and stop our madness? What
am I to do? The shame to me, the shame to my family. I’d kill myself, but how can
I do that to Mother after Robert?

Alex gripped the
paper between his clammy fingers and forced himself to turn the page. He
cleared his throat and continued.

April 1, 1818

Marion is my best hope. She owes me
since I know she’s been playing the doxy to the stable master. Who am I to
stand on propriety? Still, I must appear to be threatening.

Marion is all atwitter with fear that
I’ll tell her secret, so I told her mine. She’ll help me gather the Pennyroyal
to rid myself of M.’s baby. I shall never forgive him or myself.

Alex looked up from the paper. “Who
do you think M. is?”

Cameron squinted down at the paper. “I’ve
no idea.”

April 2, 1818

Alex’s hands shook
so violently he had to grip one hand with the other in order to read the
spidery writing. April 2 had been three days ago, the Primwitty ball. He should
have known something was badly wrong when she had fled his side. He swallowed
his self-loathing, storing the feeling for later, and gazed at the entry.

Now I know, and it is worse than I
thought. I forced myself to stand and hear it all and watch it all. They
announced his betrothal, and he appeared so very happy and she so very
beautiful. Lady Gillian Rutherford. I hate her. I hate him. I hate myself most
of all.

Alex snapped the
book closed.

“Did you hear me?”
Cameron asked.

“What?” A roaring
filled Alex’s ears.

“I said we need to
warn Lady Gillian who she’s to marry.”

“Warn her?” He
whipped up and loomed over his brother. “Don’t utter a word. The lady’s a
schemer who had every intention of seducing Sutherland into marrying her.
Besides, when I’m through the lady won’t have to concern herself with being
shackled to a monster.”

“All right. I can
live with that. But what exactly are we going to do?”

“You’re going to do
nothing.”

“Alex―”

“No. This is my
revenge. Mallorian seduced Lissie to get back at me.”

“Why? Why would he
do that?”

“Because.” Alex
said, “he wanted to buy into my company and I dismissed him like the piece of
garbage he is.”

“It’s not like you
to be cruel.”

Alex nodded. “He
happened to come to me right after Bess told me about a serving wench who’d
said she’d been beaten and forced by him. But the woman had no witnesses. Bess
took the girl in and wanted to make sure it was all right with me.”

Cameron whistled.
“That’s bad. What do you intend to do?”

“The man’s a social
climber. I intend to take away his ladder.”

“The Lady Gillian?”

“That’s right,” Alex
said, the roaring finally dying away in his ears.

“Are you saying you
intend to seduce his fiancée into marrying you instead? A sort of public
humiliation?”

He intended to
seduce Lady Gillian into publicly leaving Mallorian, but marriage was not part
of the bargain. He’d set her up nicely when he was done and ensure she had a
better life than she would have ever had with Mallorian.

“Alex, you didn’t
answer my question. You do intend to marry the lady once you’ve ruined her,
don’t you?”

“I do not,” he
replied, giving his brother a look that dared him to protest. “The lady wanted
to flee to America on Sutherland’s coattails. Well, I’ll send her there in
grand style. She’ll be fine. And in the end she’ll thank me. She can find a man
to marry that she actually loves.”

Cameron shook his
head. “Somehow I doubt the lady will thank you.”

 

 

 

Two Days Later

Cheapside

London, England

 

Alex crouched beside Peter Manchester,
the Duke of Primwitty―the one man besides his brother that he trusted
with this sordid mess. Alex pressed his back against the cold brick of the
Merry Tavern and took another shallow breath. It was useless. The stench of
rotting garbage filled his nose once again. “Sodding garbage.”

“Exactly,” Peter agreed, taking his
own shallow breath with his hands over his mouth. “My legs are cramping.”

“Quit whining.” Alex rubbed at the
knots in his own legs.

“How much longer do you think we’ll
be forced to crouch here?” Peter asked.

“Can’t be that much longer.” Alex
eyed Madame Lovelace’s establishment.

“We’ve been here for hours,” Peter
complained.

Alex glanced at the moon. “Probably
three. Mallorian has to come out soon.”

“I long for my clean, warm bed. And
my wife,” Peter said, his voice raising a notch.

Alex chuckled. “Marriage has made you
weak. Keep quiet or you’ll blow our cover.”

Alex would wait here all night to
learn every sordid detail he could about Mallorian. He wanted to know the man
better than his own mother did. Then he’d use that knowledge to completely
destroy him.

Something rustled through the trash near
his left foot, and in the little sliver of moonlight shining between the tavern
and the madame’s house, Alex made out the outline of a rat.
Loathsome
creatures
. He hated rats. Peter bolted upright beside him, and Alex reached
up reflexively and jerked Peter back down.

“Sit still, man. You’ll get us
discovered with your theatrics.”

“Rats are vile,” Peter growled,
shaking off Alex’s hand. “Got bit by one once when I was a child. Deuced nasty
bite that almost killed me.”

“Does Sally know you’re afraid of
rats?”

“No. Nor does my curious wife know
I’m here playing spy with you, given you made me swear not to tell her. Keep
annoying me and I may have to unburden all my secrets.”

“You’re bluffing. If I thought you
would do that I wouldn’t have asked for your help.”

“Ask for my help?” Peter sputtered. “You
told me I was helping, then swore me to secrecy. Sally would blister my ears if
she knew we were crouched outside of Madame Lovelace’s engaged in some
harebrained scheme of revenge. You do know they have constables for this sort
of thing?”

“I can’t use a constable, and you
know it. I’ll not chance besmirching my sister’s good name by allowing this
sordid mess to come to light.”

“You know, sometimes being your
friend is a burden. Lucky for you, I’m a strapping young man, so I’m up to the
challenge.”

When Peter flexed his thin arm as
proof of his masculine state, a smile pulled at Alex’s lips, but allowing even
a moment of levity so soon after burying his sister felt like the worst sort of
betrayal. He looked away and rubbed his burning eyes.

“You do realize Sally would only
protest because she is not here with us.”

“I do.” Peter’s white teeth flashed
in the darkness. “However, I choose to forget my wife’s adventurous nature in
order to maintain my sanity.” Peter slapped at his face, disheveling his
glasses. He shoved his spectacles back onto the bridge of his nose. “These
blasted mosquitoes are chewing on me like a savory piece of meat. Are you sure
your mistress gave you the correct information about this man’s habits?”

“Positive,” Alex replied, not
bothering to explain that Bess was no longer his mistress. He would save that
conversation for later, or maybe never. It was his private matter. “I gave Bess
a large purse to distribute as she saw fit to loosen some tongues, and she said
Madame Lovelace’s tongue would have detached from her body had it gotten any looser.
Mallorian is here, as he is every Wednesday night. When he exits, you follow
him, and I’ll pay a visit to Mistress Caprice Mills—his regular choice for
companionship, according to Bess.”

“Are you sure this is the best course
of action?”

“What would you do if someone seduced
your sister and she died trying to rid herself of the child?”

There was a pause of silence as Peter
took off his glasses and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. Finally, he put them
back on with a sigh. “Same thing. I’d destroy the man, but I’d probably leave
out ruining another woman.”

“I told you, she will be better off
with what I have planned for her. She wanted to seduce Sutherland. Clearly, she
wants no part of marrying Mallorian and she wants out of England. I will be
providing her both her fondest wishes.”

“It’s convenient for you to think
so,” Peter replied.

Alex clenched his fists. “If you
won’t help me without lecturing me, then go.”

“I’ll stay. And I’ll shut up, but
only because I have every faith your good nature will return, and you’ll do the
right thing by Lady Gillian once you’ve seduced her.”

Alex gaped at Peter. “If you think
I’m going to have some change of heart and marry the lady, you’re sadly
mistaken.”

When silence greeted Alex, he
glowered. “I will never marry.”

“I know you say that. I think you’ve
just not met the right woman.”

“And you think a lady I already
dislike, who I plan to seduce and then ship off to America, might be just the
woman to change my mind about women and marriage?”

“I think she might,” Peter snapped.
“Sally’s told me a great deal about Lady Gillian and her personality. I think
she’d suit you.”

“I didn’t ask you to come here and
think, and why the bloody hell have you been talking to Sally about Lady
Gillian?”

“Calm down,” Peter growled from the
darkness. “The conversation had nothing to do with you. Sally was excited to
see her friend after all these years, and we simply talked of the two of them
and then the lady herself.”

He was just about to tell Peter to
shut up when Mallorian alighted from the house and shuffled down the stairs. Alex
turned to motion Peter to retrieve the horse tied behind the house, but Peter
was already stalking silently in that direction. After a moment, Mallorian’s
coach appeared at the same time Peter did with the horse.

Alex stood and moved through the
shadows toward Peter. “Stay close, but not too close.”

Peter nodded.

Tension mounted and coiled through
Alex. He wanted to follow Mallorian himself, but he also wished to question the
man’s ladybird. He had to trust Peter. “Don’t lose him.”

“Bugger off, Lionhurst,” Peter hissed
before mounting his horse. A whistle rang through the silence, and Mallorian’s
carriage moved down the road with Peter following a good space behind. Alex waited
until they were out of sight before he strode to the front door of Madame
Lovelace’s establishment and knocked.

The door eased open and a cloud of
overpowering musky perfume filtered out. He swallowed his distaste and gazed
down at the buxom redhead squeezed into the gaudiest creation of silk and lace
he had ever seen. A pale blue gaze swept over him, moving from his shoes to
what appeared to be his private region, then slowly to his face. Cherry lips
parted to display slightly yellowed teeth. If he had been a man with a weak
stomach, his evening meal would have departed. Instead, he smiled, slowly and
appreciatively.

The redhead’s eyes rounded with
surprise. He bowed slightly to ease her suspicion. Every woman deserved deference
no matter her occupation. “I’m Lord Lionhurst. May I come in?”

He didn’t know what to expect. But he
certainly didn’t expect her to reach out and trace a finger across his chest,
which was exactly what she did. He stood stock-still. He was prepared to do a
lot of things to get his revenge, but sleeping with the madame was not one of
them.

Opening the door wider, she motioned
him in. “You are a lion, indeed. So strong.” She squeezed his bicep. “So
handsome.” She ran a rough finger down his cheekbone, not stopping until she
got to the top of his breeches. “So well-endowed, it would appear.”

A man could only take so much. He
grabbed her hand and pressed it gently back to her side. “You entice me, my
dear, but I’m committed at the moment.”

She winked. “I know. We
all
know in this trade how generous and cold you can be. Your former lovers talk,
you know.”

He clenched his teeth against the tic
in his jaw. “I’ve always been honest about what to expect from a relationship
with me.”
Was he really standing here defending his honor to a madame
?

“But they fall in love with you
anyway, don’t they?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” he said
evenly.

“Well, let me enlighten you.” She
took his arm and pulled him through the door. An aged footman appeared out of
nowhere and quietly closed the door behind Alex. He glanced around the dimly
lit parlor in case anyone else was lurking in the shadows waiting to
materialize. A pianoforte stood in the corner and several settees and some
empty chairs were scattered about the sparse room. His eyes stopped abruptly on
a girl flanked by two men. She looked young enough to be his sister. Hell, she
resembled his sister with her pale blond hair and light blue eyes. His heart
sped up.

Was this the girl Mallorian had come
to see?
Sick bastard
. Bile rose in Alex’s throat. The lady had a black
eye along with a swollen, cut lip. This had to be Caprice Mills. “I’m here for
the services of Caprice Mills,” he said, aware he was contradicting his
previous statement about being otherwise engaged.

Madame Lovelace raised a questioning
eyebrow but pointed at the woman. “She’s there if you still want her after
getting a look at her. The blackguard before you has a fiery, mean temper. I’ve
warned him. Now I’ll not be letting him back in my establishment, because he
can’t heed a warning. No one harms my girls.”

He had a newfound respect for Madame
Lovelace. “I advise you to take care,” Alex warned. From what he could
ascertain, Caprice Mills was not the first woman to experience Mallorian’s
temper.

Madame Lovelace chortled with
laughter. “Dearie, those two men right there are all the precaution I need.”

Alex followed her gaze to the two
tall men standing next to Caprice. By the bruises on Caprice’s face, it was
obvious the men had failed miserably in protecting what was Madame Lovelace’s,
but Alex held his peace. Stating his opinion would not gain him an audience
with Caprice, and he needed that more than enlightening the madame to the
failings of her paid protectors. Alex turned to Caprice. “May I have a moment
of your company?” He produced a heavy bag of coins and offered it to her.

She snatched it from his hands, scuttling
backward as her fingers clutched the material of the bag. “Easy,” he said in a
soothing tone. “I swear I won’t harm you.”

She shifted the coins back and forth
between her small hands before handing the bag to Madame Lovelace. Alex noted
her gaze stayed firmly planted on the money. She’d likely not see a dime of the
coin. He’d make sure to compensate her without the madame’s knowledge.

Madame Lovelace handed the girl a
drink, which she promptly downed and then took another. By the third glass full
of what looked like whiskey, Alex stepped forward. He’d thought calming her
might be a good idea, but he didn’t want the girl so in her cups she couldn’t
answer any of his questions. “I think that will do her.”

Madame Lovelace smiled. “Take the
gold room.”

Caprice took the full cup the madame
handed her while gazing at Alex a moment before offering a tentative smile. He smiled
back and noted her shoulders sag as she relaxed. Up the stairs and two doors to
the right, they entered the gold room. Madame Lovelace had aptly named the
room.

The small space fairly blinded him
with the gold coverlet, curtains and pillows. Everything that was not wood was the
color of gold. He would have laughed had he still possessed the ability.

Caprice glanced at him. “You hate
it?” Her lower lip quivered.

BOOK: Bargaining With a Rake (A Whisper of Scandal Novel)
9.96Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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