Blood Lust (10 page)

“Good. The Season has not yet really begun. Shortly after the ball, I will call off our betrothal, leaving us both free to pursue our own interests.”

“As you wish, my lady,” he said tightly.

Katherine curtsied. “Thank you, my lord. I trust I haven’t broken your heart too badly.”

“Ah, to the contrary, my lady. I shall linger in despair for the pain I suffer at your refusal.” He flashed her a look of pure malice. “Until we meet next, my lady.”

In an instant he was gone, his angry strides carrying him from the room. She had made an enemy, yet now that he was out of her life, she felt a sense of relief.

The memory of the vicious look on the duke of Sussex’s face came to mind, and she thought perhaps the bandit had saved her from more than a disastrous marriage. Katherine shivered to think what menace those dark eyes might have held for her, once she had become his wife.

Not far from Sussex Manor, in the walnut paneled library of his friend Damien, William Spencer paced restlessly around the room.

“You seem distracted. You have been so ever since your arrival. It wouldn’t by chance have anything to do with a certain young lady?”

A muscle tightened in William’s jaw. “The girl has been returned safely. She knows the truth of Benjamin’s finances. It’s of no concern of mine if she hasn’t the good sense to end the betrothal.”

Damien’s brow rose. “I believe that she will do so. The matter is a delicate one and she is no fool. Eventually, she will end her relationship and return to the marriage mart.” He eyed his friend over the top of his brandy snifter before he took a drink. “Perhaps once she does, you will be interested in her for yourself.”

William said nothing.

“Forgive me. For some odd reason, I thought the girl had caught your fancy. As I recall, you weren’t opposed to trysting with her. She must have had some sort of appeal on you.”

William turned to face him, his expression dark. “I would have liked to bed her. She was a feisty little tart and I lusted after her practically every moment from the time I first saw her. She is ripe for a man, and had she not been untaken, I would not have hesitated.”

“Which means that you continue to think of her even though she is gone.”

“Which means I would still like to bed her. Since it would hardly be the gentlemanly thing to do, I will do my best to forget her.”

Damien smiled faintly. “I thought you said there was nothing of the gentleman left in you, that you had abandoned those qualities years ago.”

“For the most part I did.” William replied, almost smiling. “However, there is something else within me that beckons me, something I can’t describe. While I am here I will try to not succumb to it.”

“Then you plan to leave, even when you clear your name?”

“I don’t belong here. I am no longer a part of this life. I only remain here as long as I must.”

Damien sighed. “I realize that in this case, no news is hardly good news, but I assure you that the man we have working for us is competent. I’ve used him on a number of occasions and he has yet to fail me.” Damien knew William wanted his name cleared. A few years ago he had hired a man to investigate his father’s murder, but nothing of any value had been uncovered. Damien chose another man himself when William first arrived in England.

“I don’t doubt his expertise. It’s been a long time. Nothing came of my investigation. Even if there is someone who actually saw what happened, finding them won’t be easy.”

“No, it won’t. But money is always an inducement. A word here, a marker called in. Who knows what we’ll find.”

William smiled, but Damien knew it for what it was. The odds of success were against them and William knew that. He was risking himself in returning, but it was a risk he was determined to take.

He had vowed to clear his name, to see his family’s holdings returned, to see his father’s murderer pay. He had taken the first bold step and Sussex Manor belonged to him once more, though he allowed Benjamin to remain. The owner was traveling on the continent he had been told. The duke could stay until the man returned.

Truth was, it was simply better if Benjamin remained in the residence at Sussex Manor, or at the duke’s town house, so they could watch his movements.

Damien leaned back in his leather chair and took another sip of brandy. William’s glass sat untouched on the mantel. He was pacing again, restless as he was before, his mind filled with thoughts Damien could not fathom.

“Perhaps we should travel to the city,” Damien suggested. “The Season is just now getting underway. Even if it weren’t, there are always amusements. From the look of you, some female companionship would not be amiss.”

“The city?” William’s gaze moved in Damien’s direction.

“Yes. As long as you stay away from your brother, once he arrives, there is little danger you’ll be recognized. Your own mother would hardly recognize you for the boy you once were.”

True, so true, William’s eyes said.

“I have noticed you have wisely stayed away from Jane. A lady rarely forgets a man she has known so intimately as that one you know.”

William paused and reached for his glass. “She is safe for the moment. In time I intend to seek her out, but not just yet. First I mean to return to the inn. Perhaps a memory will surface, something of value that I have forgotten.”

Their man had been to the Lion’s Den on more than one occasion. According to him, only a few of the original servants remained and none remembered the night in question.

Damien warmed his glass between his hands. “I understand that Benjamin is planning a lavish costume ball. I don’t know how he thinks he can afford it, but the outcome might be interesting.”

“My brother has always loved to entertain. He thinks himself quite the fashion monger, and of course Sussex Manor provides him exactly what he needs in lavish excess.”

Damien casually stood up from his leather chair, setting his empty glass down on a table beside him. “Lady Katherine will be there, I am certain,” he said with a certain casualness. “Being seen with the duke will help dispel the gossip. It is imperative she put the scandal of her abduction to rest.”

“That would be had I given the lady something to be scandalized about.”

Damien smiled. Whether or not his friend was willing to admit it, he cared for the woman in some fashion.. Feelings he had not allowed himself since his ill-fated affair with the Lady Jane. Damien intended to encourage him. William had suffered enough, he deserved some measure of happiness. He deserved to know the tender side of a woman instead of simply suffering a woman’s betrayal.

Though Damien was hardly an expert, and cynical in the extreme, some deeply hidden part of him still believed that his friend deserved a little love.

William opened the door to the Lion’s Den and walked in. He couldn’t shake the notion that the answer to his problem lay her. That someone must have seen something besides what Benjamin wanted them to see, the duke of Sussex murdered by his eldest son.

More than the face of his grief-stricken brother, whose heroic efforts could not save their father but had at least disabled the rogue who had killed him. There had to be something, yet so far no one including himself had unearthed a single clue.

William ducked his head and stepped into the taproom. The years had not changed the smell of smoke and rancid ale.

The scarred wooden tables still had the same nicks and grooves, even though they had a new coat of varnish. The upstairs room he had shared with Jane looked much the same, or at least it appeared so when he looked in through the outside.

He thought of her as he sat down at a table and ordered a tankard of ale. She was living in London, living high on the fat allowance Benjamin provided. He wondered how she would take the news that the duke of Sussex was broke. Perhaps she had already figured that out.

He wondered what she looked like now. He thought of her beauty and found himself comparing it to the full-breasted charms he had discovered in Katherine. They were as different as any two women he could imagine.

There wasn’t an ounce of goodness in Lady Cromwell, not a single ounce of compassion, but at the time he had been too much in lust to recognize this.

William pictured Jane and his hold grew tighter on the handle of the tankard he was grasping. Jane knew the truth of what had happened to his father. Jane could be his salvation, yet he dared not to go to her yet. He could offer her money, which if she weren’t in need now, odds were she soon would be. But a large sum of money might not ensure her help. A little scandal was one thing. Admitting Benjamin Spencer’s guilt in the death of their father meant implicating herself in a murder.

Her ruin among her peers was not something she would willingly do, no matter how well she was paid. The timing had to be perfect, the threat of exposing her so real she would have to take heed. He needed a way to force her into admitting the truth. He needed a witness to come forward.

William looked around the room, studying the faces of the serving maids and the occupants of the taproom. He finished his ale and wandered into the kitchen, his pulse racing at the sight of the cook’s familiar face.

“What can I do for you?” The short, beefy woman smiled. She had been friendly to him back then, perhaps that was why he recognized her.

“Something smells good.”

She looked him over. His clothing said he was a member of the gentry.

“It’s a haunch of venison, roasted. I can have you a plate served up for you.”

William smiled. He wasn’t hungry, but if it kept her talking he would eat. “Mind if I sit in here?”

She frowned. It was an odd request, coming from a man such as he. Then she smiled. “If you’re looking for my Betty, she won’t be back for a time. She’s gone to the village, she has. A gentleman like you, she’ll be sorry she missed you.”

“My name is Brooks,” he said, the name coming easily after the past years. “William Brooks.”

She nodded and began to dish up the food. The kitchen was warm and steamy. She brought him a pewter platter heaped with meat and a chunk of bread, setting it on the heavy wooden table in front of him. She disappeared and returned in a few moments with a pewter mug of ale.

“I’ve been out of the country,” William said casually. “I haven’t been here for a while. I remembered you, though, that you worked here in the kitchen.”

She eyed him, trying to place him. “You look familiar, but I honestly can’t say I recall you.”

He almost wished she did. Perhaps then she would remember the night of the murder and it’s circumstances.

“There was a night that I came that I recall in particular. Things got pretty exciting. The old duke of Sussex was murdered.”

The cook rolled her eyes. “That was something. What a way to end up, poor old fella. Killed by his own flesh and blood.”

“You saw it then?”

She shook her head. “No, I was here in the kitchen when it happened. They caught him I remember. Later I heard rumors that the eldest son really didn’t do it. That it was the younger one who did it.”

An odd expression fell on her face. “I’ve heard it said, but not in a good many years. There was talk for a while, but it died off. The duke is a powerful man around here. Ain’t many who’d be dumb enough to cross him.” Her eyes ran over his face. “Funny, now that I think about it, you look a bit like him, the old duke’s eldest son. I mean he was thinner, and I don’t remember him being so tall. He was paler looking and not so manly.”

He knew all right; no one knew better.

She grinned, and he saw that several of her teeth were missing. “You aren’t related, are you?”

William smiled, though he had hoped it looked more sincere than it felt. “I hope not, being that the man was a murderer.”

“Like I said, rumor was he wasn’t the one who done it. I didn’t see nothing as I was down here. Boy’s dead and gone. Best let sleeping dogs lay.”

William said nothing, just finished his meal. His nerves were suddenly taut and he was no longer hungry. Perhaps someone here did know something that would help him. Finding out though wouldn’t be easy. He finished his meal, dropped some money on the table and stood up from his chair.

“My thanks for the meal and conversation.”

“You’ll be comin’ back won’t you? To see my girl?”

“Perhaps I will.” William was thinking that he would most certainly return. He would have to be careful and take his time.

Chapter Eight

Katherine stood in front of the mirror in her bedchamber. Like most of Oakley Manor, the halls above stairs were barren, the rooms stark. Even her own room had fallen victim to their lack of funds. Her mahogany armoire had been replaced by a less expensive one made of oak. Her exquisite paintings gone from the walls. The only things that still remained were the silk more curtains and matching bed hangings.

She smiled inwardly, thinking that she might wind up wearing the curtains as a gown if their finances didn’t change soon.

However, today was not the time to think of that. Today, they were leaving Oakley Manor for the costume ball at Sussex Manor, the final step in severing her ties with the duke. As she thought of him now, an icy shiver ran down her spine. For the millionth time she thanked her captor for saving her from a horrible fate and wondered where the handsome outlaw had gone.