Never Wager Against Love (Kellington Book Three) (19 page)

Newcastle, who was seated on the settee waiting for her,
misinterpreted her expression.  “You should smile more often, Miss Gans.  It
positively lights up your face.”

“Thank you, your grace,” she said, as she laid the leather
case on the table in front of the settee, then slowly unwrapped it.  “We should
send for Lord Arthur.  He is quite knowledgeable about the sword.”

“I assure you, my dear, that there is nothing Kellington
knows that I don’t.  In fact, I can teach you anything you want to know.”

Vanessa ignored the blatant suggestion and pulled the heavy sword
from the case, then laid it on the table hoping to distract Newcastle until
Arthur joined them.  “The Larsen broadsword, your grace.”

Newcastle was momentarily diverted.  “What a magnificent
weapon,” he said as he gazed upon it.  With the fingers of one hand, he slowly traced
the blade from hilt to tip.  “I have often felt I was born in the wrong era. 
Today there are too many rules.  Too many people who think they can tell a man
like me what to do.  But back in the day of the Vikings, they came, they took,
they conquered.  And they enjoyed the spoils of war along the way.  When they
went home they were feted as warriors, as kings.  Any time they wanted to
experience the thrill of battle again, all they had to do was set sail to
anywhere their boats could take them.  They were that invincible.”  He picked
up the sword in a flourish, but it was obviously much heavier than he’d
anticipated.  The weight and balance of it nearly toppled him.  He let it fall
to the table with a heavy clank.

“I didn’t realize you were such a fan of war,” said Vanessa,
watching him carefully.

“War is one of the most fascinating of man’s pursuits.  The
subjugation of one man by another, one nation by another.  Whole worlds by
another.  Even now, we are only just beginning to uncover the untold riches of
Africa and the Indian subcontinent.  The natives are savages, but the riches in
both the land and the goods are incalculable.  I have invested heavily in both
places.  And the benefits to England will be immense.”

“Have you never thought to go to war yourself?  It is one
thing to extol the victories of another.  But I imagine a very different thing
when you are the one doing the fighting.”   Vanessa was sickened by the
conversation and very much wanted the duke to leave her rooms.  She was also
growing more worried about Arthur.

“It would have been a waste to send me to the slaughter,
although I have often thought I would have made an excellent general.  It
wouldn’t have taken a Waterloo for me to end the war.  I would have taken the
fighting to Paris and captured it for Britain.  I have always enjoyed myself in
Paris.  French whores are so much more skilled than the ones in London.”

“I wouldn’t think a man of your rank would need to employ a
prostitute,” said Vanessa, slowly putting more distance between them, as his
eyes followed her.

“Not all of them are prostitutes in the legal sense,” said
Newcastle, “though in spirit they are much the same.  Females are expensive,
Miss Gans.  I can admire the practical financial transaction with a prostitute,
but it becomes much less clear when I give a diamond bracelet to a lover.  The
costs always add up, and I usually get more for my money and far less
aggravation with a whore.  What about you, my dear?  How much do your favors go
for?”

Vanessa had finally reached the end of her patience. 
Mission for the Home Office or no, she was sick of Newcastle’s very presence. 
“No part of me is for sale, your grace.  Drink has made you unpleasant company
and I will thank you to take your leave.” 

The duke continued to stalk her at a slow, steady pace.  “Never
tell me you are giving yourself to Kellington for free, are you?  I would have
thought you smarter than that.   Willingham has told me a little about you and
I find it surprising to think you’re not lifting your skirts for someone.  Why
not me?  I can do far more for you than Kellington.  Even set you up at a
pied
a terre
in town.  You could quit your ridiculous job, and you would have
the prestige of belonging to me.”

“I belong to no one.”  She was nearing the door.  She needed
to go in search of Arthur.

“Everyone has a price, pet.  Yours just hasn’t been named.”

“I will not be insulted any longer,” she said as she was
within inches of escape. 

But suddenly, he was there before her.  She wouldn’t have
thought he could move that quickly with all the wine in him.  As if reading her
thoughts, he said “I am not as cup shot as you seem to think.  On nights when I
anticipate a chase, my butler waters the wine in my glass.  It does terrible
things to the taste, but I find it an effective strategy in getting others to
underestimate me, like the insufferable Kellington.”

Vanessa’s stomach clenched.  “What have you done to him?

He laughed, as he leaned against the door.  “Nothing too
terrible.  His ass of a brother would likely call me out if I were to do the
fellow any serious harm.  I’ve just secreted him away for the evening.  He’ll
be none the worse for wear in the morning and probably too embarrassed to tell
a soul.  I imagine he wouldn’t take to shackles very well.  Have you ever worn
them?  My cock is getting harder just thinking of you strapped down and waiting
to be filled.  What say you?  We can take the cell next to Kellington’s.  He
can see if you yell for me louder than you do for him.”

Without warning, he closed the distance and grabbed her
arm.  But the instincts of once having lived on the streets served her well. 
She twisted away from him to break his hold, then stomped down hard on his
instep.   He was still blocking the door, so she ran back into the room and put
the table between them.

“So, you like it rough, you little bitch,” said Newcastle as
he prowled toward her.  “Trust me when I say I can give you bruises in all the
best places.”

In desperation, Vanessa put both hands on the Larsen’s hilt
and lifted.  Surprisingly, it came off the table easily.  She had no problem pointing
it at Newcastle.  His surprise was evident as she kept the sword raised in
steady hands.

“You wouldn’t dare hurt me,” he said, as he walked closer.

The sword seemed to obey her thoughts as she wielded it
easily and brought the tip to his chest.

“I most certainly would.  And while you refer to it as a
ridiculous job, I assure you that my superiors at the Home Office have granted
me the authority to use whatever force I deem necessary to complete my
mission.  Tonight, I demand only that you leave my sight and deliver Lord
Arthur to me unharmed.  Tomorrow, he and I will be leaving with the chalice,
which will be returned to you when the Home Secretary believes it is safe to do
so.”

When it looked like Newcastle was about to protest further,
she pressed the sword against him just hard enough to penetrate his clothes and
break the skin.  He jumped back in alarm.  His face contorted with anger for a
moment, then the urbane mask reappeared.  “Very well,” he snarled.  “I’ll leave
your bed chamber and see you off with the chalice in the morning.  But you’re
on your own to find Kellington if you want the man so badly.  The two of you
deserve each other.  I certainly shan’t miss you in my bed.”

“You promised to leave, Newcastle.  Pray attend to that
now,” said Vanessa.

As soon as Newcastle left, she ran into her bed chamber and
searched her saddlebags for the pistols.  Unfortunately, they were empty. 
Arthur must have taken them back again.  Arthur.  She almost panicked to think
what might have become of him.  It was only then that she realized she still
carried the Larsen.

She wasn’t sure that Newcastle had really imprisoned him in
the dungeons, but when a quick check of his room showed he wasn’t there, she
quietly made her way through the corridors to the likely place she’d find the
servants’ stairs.  Undercover work in so many grand houses had taught her a
great deal about their lay-out.  She passed the kitchens, then continued down
the corridor to the stairs to the cellars.  She carefully went down the steps,
holding the sword at the ready, uncertain whether anyone on Newcastle’s staff
would be waiting for her.  But soon enough she was in front of the large door
which concealed the treasure room. 

She looked around at the shackles on the exterior walls. 
There was no sign of Arthur.  There were probably hidden chambers throughout
the cellars.  She shivered at the very thought of Arthur shackled to the wall
in the dark.  She had to find him. 

Then she heard it, a faint scratching noise coming from
further down the dark corridor.  Clutching the sword with both hands, she
cautiously walked down the hall, looking for the source of the sound.  A loud
creaking noise accompanied the opening of a massive door in front of her.  She
remained still against the wall as she waited for someone to emerge.  Then
someone did.  And it was Arthur.

“Arthur!” she said quietly, then closed the distance between
them.  The dim moonlight washing into the room from windows high on the wall
illuminated his face enough to see his worry, then astonishment.  He pulled her
into his arms.

“Vanessa!  Are you all right?”  He kissed her forehead, her
temple, her lips and kept running his hands up and down her arms.  “I swear
I’ll kill that bastard.  What did he do to you?  Is that the Larsen?”  He
pulled back enough to look at the sword, which she was holding to the side of
her.  “Did you have to use it on him?”

“No,” she said, ridiculously relieved to discover he was all
right.  “But it did come in handy to threaten him.”  With her free hand, she
shyly reached for one of his.  She felt something wet at his wrist.  “What
is…is that blood?”

“It’s not important,” he said.  “I’m going to tear the
bastard from limb to limb.”

“What did he do to you?”

“He drugged me, then a few of his henchman dragged me down
here and shackled me to the wall.  I must’ve scraped my wrists when I pulled
myself free.”

She examined the bloody cuts around his wrists and tears
came to her eyes.  “We must get something for these.  You could become ill from
the rusted manacles.”

“Actually,” said Arthur with a gleam in his eyes, “all the
manacles in that room are new.  Some even have padding on them.  The room
itself was well appointed, including a decanter of French brandy which I poured
on my wrists to clean the cuts.”

“How did you know to do such a thing?”

“Ned’s wife Jane taught us all a great deal about the
medicinal uses of brandy, whisky and other spirits.”

“I don’t understand why the room had new shackles.”

Arthur wondered how much he should enlighten her.  Even in
the dim moonlight, he’d seen enough of the room to understand more than he
wanted to know about Newcastle’s sexual habits.  And while he certainly hadn’t
been comfortable in the shackles, he believed the point of it was more to keep
him away from Vanessa, rather than do him any physical harm.  He could explain
that later.  For now he simply said, “Newcastle has interesting taste.  What
did he do to you?”

“He tried to seduce me, but I fought him off.  He did agree
to give us the chalice in the morning, but only after I threatened him.”

“I’m glad to hear he’s being reasonable sweetheart, but I’m
still going to beat him within an inch of his life.” 

Arthur brushed past her and she had to run to catch up. 
“No, Arthur, you can’t.  Not until we get the chalice.  There’s too great of a
chance that he could change his mind.  And right now I just want to get the
chalice and leave here as soon as possible.”

He looked at her for a long moment.  The urge to exact
retribution was warring with his desire to take her away from that place as
soon as possible.  Finally, he sighed and said, “I won’t hurt him now.  But I
can’t wait to run into him in London.  Hopefully with my carriage.”

“Thank you,” she said then kissed him lightly.  They headed
for the stairs to the servants’ quarters, but Arthur stopped in front of the
door to the treasure room.  “Perhaps we can do something to make sure Newcastle
won’t change his mind about the chalice.”  He knelt in front of the door, then
began picking the locks.

“How did you learn to do that?” she asked.

“You come across men from all walks of life in a gaming
hell.  It’s amazing what you can learn just by buying someone a drink.  It’s
how I escaped the manacles and got out of the room.  Don’t tell me you can’t
pick a lock.”

“Of course I can,” said Vanessa, grinning.  “I just never
knew toffs could be useful before.”

He smiled at her, just as the first lock clicked.  After
unlocking the other two, he opened the door, then ushered her in before him. 
“After you, love.  Let’s see if we can do something to truly irritate the
blasted Duke of Newcastle.” 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

They left the door only slightly ajar, so as not to attract
attention in case one of the servants passed by.  The moonlight which came in
through the high windows gave the room almost a ghostly feel.  The unused
treasures from centuries past were piled throughout:  French furniture, jewels
from the Orient, paintings from the Old Masters.  All of it was stored as if
they were cast-offs from a king.

“The paintings should be in a museum,” said Vanessa, as
Arthur went to work on the safe’s lock.  “And any one piece of jewelry could
build a hospital for the poor.”

“I imagine Newcastle would rather toss it in the Thames
before aiding the indigent.  As a member of the House of Lords, he routinely
votes against all measures to help those poor souls living in the stews.  It’s
one of the reasons Liam cannot stand the man.  You look tired, love.  Why don’t
you sit on that chaise?  It’s Louis XIV, unless I’m very much mistaken.”