Master of Pleasure (31 page)

“God protect him.” Malcolm swung toward the corridor leading toward the rest of the house. “I just walked through the entire house, blowing out candles I could have sworn I had already put out.”

Panic gurgled within. “Something isn’t right. Something isn’t—” She rushed around him. “What if Ryder sent someone to take him? What if—”

Malcolm grabbed her arm, yanking her toward him. His eyes flickered over her nightdress and snapped back to her face. “Stay here. I’ll find him.”

“No, I’m going with you,” she insisted, pushing past him and breaking into a run.

He sprinted past her and thumped down the stairs before she could even get to them.

She thumped her way after him, gasping breaths escaping her. Although she swore to never open her heart to the possibility of begging a higher being that she even doubted existed, her pride was no match against her heart,
Please, God. Malcolm claims that You are capable of mercy and goodness. Show me that goodness. Please. For the love I have for Jacob, please—

Malcolm rushed to the entrance door and paused, his chest heaving. “The latch is broken.”

“
No
!” Leona frantically shoved past and banged open the door.

A lashing gust of wind and heavy rain assaulted her. She squinted to see beyond the dull gas lights of the street and into the darkness, but too many drops of rain blurred her vision.

She rushed out into the deserted street in bare feet, frosty rain instantly drenching her. “
Jacob
!” she screamed above the whirling wind, tears and rain blinding her. The rain might as well have been the sea her father had been lost in. It was too much. Too much. “
Jacooooob
!” She sobbed, her bare feet sinking into icy mud as torrents of rain continued to whip unmercifully all around her.

“Leona, go inside!” Malcolm commanded, grabbing her arm. “I’ll find him! I swear it!”

Leona jerked toward Malcolm, realizing he was as drenched as she was, his dark hair clinging to his forehead, and his white linen shirt, waistcoat and trousers adhered to every inch of him.

She sobbed, her bare feet numb from standing in the freezing puddle. “Ryder took him. He took him. I know he took him!”

“
I have him
!” a separate male voice hollered out through the wind, drawing closer. “
It’s all right! The boy is all right!
”

Her head snapped toward the voice, her heart pounding.

Through the pelting rain, the dark, dim outline of a large figure in a great coat stalked toward her, guiding a tiny figure splashing through puddles. Jacob! Leona drew in a sharp breath of cold air and pushed it back out with weakened relief.
Thank you God. Thank you for…answering.

She darted toward Jacob, trying not to sob anymore than she already was.

Jacob paused in front of her, his small chest heaving as he tried catching his breath. His bear sagged to one side of his arm, drenched in his thin arms, looking as pitiful as he did. His dark hair clung to his forehead.

“Don’t cry, Mama.” Jacob’s small, cold hand sloppily patted her cheek to assure her.

Leona let out a choked laugh, grabbed and kissed his cold fingers. “How brave you are. How very brave. Are you all right?”

Jacob nodded in exaggeration. “Everyone was sleeping when Papa came into the house. I snuck out of the room. He told me not to wake you. He and I played downstairs for a while but then he tried to take me. It wasn’t really that scary. Because James took him to the ground and tied Papa’s whole body to a railing down the street so he wouldn’t go anywhere. And then James and I were having a bit of fun in the rain making our way back. Only you won’t believe it.
Look
!” He pointed up at the man beside him.

Her son certainly seemed to be inspired by her rescuer. “Thank you, sir, for—” Leona glanced up at the large man beside her son and froze. Imposing ice blue eyes met hers as water streamed down an all too familiar rugged face. It was Malcolm. Only…he was wearing different clothes than the ones she had just seen him in. And the jagged scar on his face was…
gone
?

She blinked against the rain, slowly drawing her arms around herself in an effort to give herself warmth as the rain seemed to slowly ebb and dull. She paused, sensing someone was behind her and swung toward the direction she thought Malcolm had earlier been. Another figure with the exact same height and the exact same ice blue eyes and rugged face met hers from behind. A jagged scar from ear to jaw traced that face.

She choked and scrambled back, slapping a trembling hand against her mouth. Oh. Dear. God. There were two. There were two Malcolms. There. Were.
Two
!

Her chest heaved, unable to believe it as she glanced from one to the other.

Leona lowered her hand from her mouth. She had heard of such oddities out in the country, but had never actually seen a set of twins in person. They really were the same in every way. Height. Breadth. Eye color. Hair color. Face. The only thing distinguishing them was one had a scar slashed across his face and the other one didn’t. “You have a
twin
?”

“Yes.” Malcolm’s strained face and voice softened. “A twin who keeps reminding me why the hell I ever loved him in the first place. Thank you, James. Thank you for—” Malcolm swiped his face. “Leona, this is James Zachery Thayer. My younger brother by three minutes. James, this is Leona Webster.” He grinned, pointed at James and chided, “You’re officially soft.”

The other Malcolm snorted. “Don’t give me that. I’ve been waiting for you to call on me again. Why the hell didn’t you call on me?”

“For the same reason you didn’t call on me,” Malcolm tossed back.

James widened his stance. “Well, I’m calling on you now. Some prick was standing outside your townhouse most of the night when I earlier rode by, so I stuck around. Glad I did. I finally get to outdo my brother. I’m the real hero now.”

Malcolm rumbled out a laugh, jumped forward and grabbed James, shoving his head into an arm lock. “I’m the fucking hero. You’re just a fucking lunatic who breaks glass.”

Leona frantically covered her son’s ears. “Uh…gentleman. I hate to interrupt this glorious little family reunion, but my son can hear everything you’re both saying.”

Both men froze.

Malcolm eyed Leona and cleared his throat. “Unfortunately, it’s going to get worse. You may want to take the boy inside. We’re a little rough with each other.”

If it hadn’t been for Malcolm’s brother, her son would have been…taken. She edged forward. “Thank you, James.”

James wrestled out of Malcolm’s grasp and shoved him, making Malcolm stumble. James straightened, adjusting his wet clothes and inclined his head. “A pleasure.”

The door from behind them swung open in the darkness, spilling out light. Andrew squinted out toward them, fastening his robe. “Why the hell is everyone outside? It’s two in the morning and it’s raining. Even I’m not that stupid.”

Leona dragged Jacob closer to herself and smiled. Kissing his soaked head several times, she smoothed that small, wet face that was too chilled for her liking. “We should get you warm. Come along. It’s time for bed.” She pushed him past and around Malcolm’s large frame, hurrying them to the stairs of the house.

“But I’m not cold or tired,” Jacob whined. “I’m not.”

“You’re completely soaked and were almost kidnapped. And you’re not cold, scared
or
tired?”

“Most certainly not!” Jacob tossed back. “One day, Mama, I plan to not only take a blade to my thigh without crying like Malcolm did, but I plan to take a villain’s head, like James did, and bash it into—”

Egad. “
Nooo
. No blades in thighs and no bashing. No, no,
no
.” Whilst she was relieved that Jacob didn’t seem in the least bit rattled by his experience of being taken it was obvious Malcolm’s company over these past few weeks had
overly
inspired him.

“But, Mama, can’t I stay outside a few minutes longer and—”

“No.” Leona turned her son toward the house, marching him forward and up the stairs to Andrew. She pushed her son through the door past Andrew and into the warmth of the house. “Go in. I’ll be right there.”

Jacob trailed water across the tile floor of the house, and hugged his dripping bear against his chest. He turned toward her. “Can Andrew read me a story?”

Leona pointed toward the staircase. “Go upstairs and start stripping those wet clothes. I’ll be right up and read you that story myself. Andrew needs to sleep.”

Her son scowled. “But I want Andrew to read me a story. He does all the voices. And you…you don’t.” He sighed as if the thought of it depressed him. He then hitched up the wet bear he held and turned on his wet heel, tracking more water up the stairs.

Andrew eyed Leona and then veered his gaze back to Malcolm and James. “One was bad enough. Two is like inviting Satan over for tea.” He puffed out a breath. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of Jacob and put him in some dry clothes. I’ll even read him the newspaper. That always puts him to sleep.”

Leona smiled, leaned in and kissed Andrew on the cheek in gratitude. “Thank you. You know how he adores you.”

“What isn’t there to adore?” Andrew wrapped his arm around her, growing overly cocky. “Seeing you and Brayton are no longer…you know…maybe you and I could—”

Malcolm rigidly pointed at them and boomed, “
Ey
! What the hell is going on over there? Get your hands off my woman before I tie your damn cock around your throat.”

Andrew snorted and called back, “I appreciate you thinking it’s
that
long.”

Malcolm swung fully toward Andrew and hardened his tone. “Get inside, you damn rake.
I mean it
.”

Andrew cringed, ducked and darted out of sight.

Leona sighed and swiped a hand over her wet face, edging back toward the warmth of the house and out of the rain. She wished she could say she was flattered by Malcolm’s territorial behavior, but neither of them had really
tried
to progress their relationship beyond their last conversation regarding his penchant for…crops.

She was still debating.

James jogged backward, putting up a large gloved hand. “I still have that bastard tied to the railing. After a few more punches, I’ll be delivering him to Scotland Yard with a few orders. You two have a good night. I’ll be in touch. Oh and…
Malcolm
?”

Malcolm paused.

James smirked. “If you ever get bored of that dinky little School of Gallantry you attend every day in the name of impressing a woman you still haven’t impressed, head on over to where you really belong: Charlotte Street.” He swung away and strode out into the night that was beginning to slowly clear from all the rain.

Leona blinked. And then blinked again. “What on earth is he talking about?”

Malcolm lingered in the street for a moment, looking after his brother. He then heaved out a breath and swiveled toward her. Shifting his jaw, he jogged up the stairs and past her.

For some reason, he didn’t answer her question.

“Malcolm?” She turned toward him.

He said nothing.

“I’m the one who should be agitated,” she pointed out.

“I thought you were.” He nudged her into the house and slammed the door. Stalking into the adjoining parlor, he hefted up a trunk, came back and set it against the door with a thud. “We’ll get the latch fixed in the morning. It’s late.”

A cold stream of water trickled down the length of her and pooled around her bare feet, sending a shiver through her. Feeling rather sorry for herself, she muttered, “We can’t keep ignoring each other. You leave in four days.”

Malcolm stepped toward her, blocking her view of the staircase with his body. “Are you saying you have an answer for me?”

Veering her gaze up to his, she cringed at the possibility that maybe, just maybe, because he clearly, clearly wanted it, she could…?

She watched a large drop of water drip from a strand of his dark hair. It slowly traced his temple, then slid down his cheek and disappeared off the end of his chin. She envied the very water that clung to him so naturally, so provocatively. “I do miss you,” she gushed, not knowing what else to say. “I miss everything about us. It isn’t fair. It isn’t fair that I have to take a crop to you to be able to show my love.
Who does that
? I’m not…you’re ridiculously large in size. Ridiculously. My arm would grow tired if I tried to—” She puffed out a breath and eyed him.

He said nothing.

“I don’t want you to leave without me or Jacob,” she grouched. “I don’t.”

He searched her face. “What are you saying?”

It was pointless. She couldn’t do it. Leona moved around him, the cold settling in on her body like a winter storm. Every inch of her shook.

He grabbed her arm and yanked her back toward himself. “Leona.”

She swallowed but didn’t meet his gaze. “What?”