Blood Lust (26 page)

“How shall I please your grace?” Her smile was lurid, full of promise. Her slender hand stroked up and down his sex. “I believe I know just the way.”

Benjamin groaned as she took him into her mouth, her soft lips closing around him. Pleasure coursed through him at the feel of her tongue skimming over his rigid flesh. She wanted money. She would do whatever it took to ensure she got it. Still, she meant to end their love play in the simplest, most expedient manner.

He didn’t intend to make it so easy.

Grabbing a handful of her hair, he pulled her away from his arousal, then began to remove the balance of his clothes. “We’ve all night my dear. There is really no hurry, is there?”

He wondered which of her lovers she intended to meet after she had finished with him.

“No hurry at all, your grace.”

“Get on the bed,” he commanded and Jane immediately obeyed. Her mood was changing. Her eyes beginning to gleam. She had sensed his anger and she knew what it meant. He would take her roughly, perhaps even cruelly. Her reluctance had turned to anticipation.

“Turn over on your stomach,” he told her, climbing up on the bed beside her. Rolling up a pillow, he stuffed it beneath her hips with a cool, malicious smile. He would take her Greek style. Jane never much favored that.

Satisfaction at the thought made his shaft rise up even more. Jane was conniving to get her hands on more of his money. All she would get was a good hard swiving, some aches and some bruises. He imagined it would be the last time she welcomed him into her bed.

A footman busied himself removing the breakfast dishes from the linen draped table in front of them. Outside, a storm had begun to brew, thick clouds settling in, a heavy mist distorting the view of flowers blooming out in the garden.

“Friday is Sir Stanwick’s funeral,” Katherine said to William, who sat at the head of the long polished table. Thomas had eaten earlier and retired to the study to read. “Do you think Elizabeth will go?”

“I hope not. Stanton will be hard-pressed to protect her if Benjamin demands she return with him to the city.”

“Poor Elizabeth.”

“True, that she is, married to the likes of my murderous brother. Perhaps she has found a champion in Stanton. For her sake, I hope so.”

“What will they do?”

“It’s hard to guess. If she is serious about ending her marriage, she can try to obtain some sort of dissolution. Unfortunately if, by some miracle, she should succeed, she would be a ruined woman. It seems unlikely that Stanton would offer marriage. If he did, society would shun him as well. At any rate, with the power Benjamin commands as duke, odds are, such an action would never be granted.”

“You are saying there is no hope for them?”

He smiled at her. “If I am successful in my endeavors, there is every hope for them. However, inadvertently, their destiny is now tied to mine. If Benjamin is proved guilty of my father’s murder, he’ll lose everything, perhaps even his life. Under those circumstances, if she isn’t left a widow, an annulment would undoubtedly be granted. If I fail, most likely I’ll be dead. Elizabeth would have to flee the country in order to escape him.”

Katherine said nothing. “When will you speak to Jane?”

“I’m not certain. I have to be absolutely sure I can force her to tell the truth. If instead she should go to Benjamin, tell him I’m still alive, he’ll do everything in his power to see I don’t stay that way for long.”

Katherine could feel her stomach sink. She made no comment. William couldn’t go to Jane until he was certain how she would respond. But Katherine could. Only that morning, she had sent a note to her asking if they might not reschedule their tea. A note had arrived in return, inviting her to come that very afternoon.

The bruises she still had from her encounter at the inn were nearly faded. She could disguise the faint yellow tint that remained with a bit of rice powder, as she had been doing.

At two o’clock, she would join Jane at her town house. Katherine would use the time to try and decipher the way the wind was blowing between Benjamin and her. With the duke’s recent marriage, and the death of his wealthy father-in-law, the subject would be an easy one to broach.

“Perhaps I could speak to her,” Katherine said just to test the waters. “We’ve formed a tentative friendship. Perhaps, I could discover. . .”

“No,” he snapped. “I do not want you anywhere near that woman. It’s true she feels not the slightest qualm about murder. God only knows what else she might be capable of doing.”

An uneasy shiver ran through her. The woman was dangerous, of that there was no doubt.

“Stay away from her,” William repeated. “When the time is right, I’ll take care of her myself.”

“Perhaps you look forward to the meeting. Perhaps you still find her attractive.” She knew he had loved her once.

“I despise the woman. Beauty means little when it is mired so deeply in evil. When I think of Jane Roberts, I feel an overwhelming urge to wrap my hands around her neck.”

He slammed his newspaper down on the table.

William studied her for a moment, then started back reading his paper, his eyes mostly hidden beneath the clear glass lenses he wore perched up on his fine straight nose. Noticing the brooding scowl that still darkened his features, she shoved back her chair, rounded the table, and walked up behind him. When she slid her arms around his neck, bent and pressed a soft kiss on his cheek, his startled gaze swung to her face.

“Do not worry, my lord. One way or another, we will find a way to convince her. Soon, the whole of England will know you are innocent of any wrongdoing.”

He gently unwound himself from her hold, his grip implacable, though he did not hurt her. “Hardly that, Katherine. I am guilty of more misdeeds than I wish to recall. My father’s murder, however, is not among them.”

He picked up the paper and rose to his feet. “Now, if you will excuse me, I am off to see Damien. I won’t be home until late. Don’t bother to wait supper. I’ll get something to eat while I am out.”

Katherine watched his retreating figure as he walked across the room and out the door. He’d been polite but distant ever since their return from the inn. She missed the hours they had spent together, the comfort and warmth of sleeping beside him as she had that night at the inn.

Katherine sighed into the quiet of the empty room, lonely in a way she had never been. William was determined to avoid her, but today it was just as well. She had a date with Jane Roberts. Perhaps she could learn something that would be of help.

Chapter Eighteen

William ascended the steps into the carriage Damien had provided for his use while he was in London. He settled himself into the seat and leaned back.

His meeting with Damien had ended. They had gone over all the evidence they had collected. The word of a young woman, who had been a frightened child at the time of the murder, the written statement of a killer, and the financial agreement between his brother and Jane Roberts, the duchess of Cromwell was not nearly enough evidence to convict the reigning duke of Sussex of his own father’s murder.

William, brooding over the situation, knowing what he needed was a credible witness.

What they needed was Jane Roberts. They needed her to tell the truth.

It was risky, to approach her, but Jane was the key and time was running out. There was no other choice. Damien’s place wasn’t far from her house, so he ordered the driver to head in that direction. Tension rippled through him. What he planned was dangerous, but in order to clear his name, he would have to take that chance. Somehow he would have to convince her that he had enough evidence to convict her and Benjamin of the murder.

The carriage rolled on toward its destination. William watched without seeing the city creep past. It wasn’t until he arrived at his destination that he came out of his stupor. He ordered the coachman to turn down the alley near the rear of the house.

“Wait for me here,” he told the driver. “If someone comes, go around the block and I’ll meet you on the street at the south entrance to the alley.”

He would approach the house through the servant’s entrance. He didn’t care if the driver thought it odd. He wasn’t about to give the woman notice he was coming. His resurrection from the grave would arrive with the same amount of warning he had had of her treachery and betrayal.

Moving silently, making his way toward the back of the house, he skirted the garden and headed for the small door and silently stepped inside. He paused to listen for the sound of footsteps.

No noises. No servants roamed around. William remembered it was Jane’s custom to dispense with unnecessary help when she anticipated some sort of intimate liaison. He wondered whom she awaited now, and hoped her paramour wasn’t already upstairs.

Voices traveled along the corridor leading down to the kitchen, but the stairs leading up were deserted. Making his way along the passage to her second story, he paused outside to listen, then quietly walked in.

He remembered her extravagant tastes, but not the clutter. There were dozens of ornate vases, snuff boxes, feather work, clocks.

Apparently the lady’s penchant for expensive items had grown in proportion to her sexual appetites, which over the past years were rumored to have risen to unthinkable extremes.

Quietly crossing the room, his footsteps silenced by the thick Belgian carpet, he made his way toward the bedchamber. He stopped at the door, but upon hearing no voices or movement, pulled it open and walked in.

A soft gasp alerted him to the presence of a female, and he turned toward the sound. Jane was seated at a mahogany dressing table beside the door to her marble floored dressing room.

Her eyes took in his plain, but well-tailored clothing then began a keen appraisal of him. She hadn’t realized yet who he was.

“What are you doing in here? Who gave you permission to enter my room?” She was gowned far more simply than he would have imagined, in a yellow taffeta day dress, something she might wear to a ladies tea. But her hair fell loose around her shoulders and her breasts nearly spilled from the top of her gown. He wondered again who she was expecting.

He smiled dourly. “Hello, Jane.”

Her eyes swung to his, clashed and held steadfast with his. She rose from her dressing stool as he walked closer. “William! My dear God, is it really you? That is impossible.”

He wasn’t wearing the glasses, no wig hid his hair. He knew she would know him. He wanted her to know who he was. He drew himself up to his full height, taller and heavier than he had been the last time she had seen him. Intimidation was his game, and he had learned to play it well.

His eyes remained locked on her, cold and dark with determination. “It’s been a very long time, Jane.”

“It is you!”

The smile on his face, twisted, became almost brutal. “I’m afraid so, my love.”

Jane shrank away from him, her eyes filled with terror as she watched him. She turned and tried to scurry past, but he caught her arm, stopping her before she could leave. With a firm grip on her shoulders, he forced her against the wall.

“Leaving so soon? How disappointing. And I thought you’d be overjoyed to see me, to discover I’m still alive.”

Her eyes darted toward the door. Jane prepared to scream.

“Don’t even think about it. I doubt there is anyone around to hear you. Even if there were, I doubt they would give much credence to it, considering the sort of behavior that goes on in here.”

She tossed her head in a way he remembered. “How would you know. You abandoned me, left me to whatever fate had in store. What right have you to condemn me?”

“I abandoned you?”

“That is correct. Obviously you escaped from prison without the slightest concern for what was happening to me. You left me to face the judges, to deal with Benjamin and the scandal the two of you created. You care nothing for me, while I was devastated with grief at the thought that you were dead.”

Anger coursed through him now. “You testified against me at the trial, remember? You verified Benjamin’s story of the murder, or has that detail slipped your mind?”

His hands tightened on her shoulders. He wanted to shake her. “I am not a boy any longer, Jane. You can’t make me believe your lies by tempting me with your lust. You and Benjamin planned my father’s murder for months before it happened. I’ve come to insure the two of you pay for what you’ve done, and I have the proof I need to do it.”

“What are you talking about. There is no proof. Your father has been dead for years now. What proof could you possibly have?”

“There is a witness. That and the man that Benjamin paid to kill me in prison has also come forward.” His mouth twisted maliciously. “And of course there is the document Benjamin signed the day after the murder, blood money he agreed to pay to you for the rest of your miserable life.”

“It isn’t true!” She threw herself against him and began to weep. “I loved you. I’ve always loved you.” Her eyes, now desperate pleaded with tears. “I still love you William.”

William stared down at her. “Do you, Jane?”

“Yes, yes, I do! You must believe me. I knew nothing of what your brother was planning. The night of the murder, I was frightened, terrified he would kill me as well. He said he would if I ever told anyone the truth. After the trial, I thought you were dead. The money was his insurance I would keep my silence.”