Simply Scandalous (29 page)

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Authors: Kate Pearce

BOOK: Simply Scandalous
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Richard sat on the nearest chair and carefully studied what he could see of her body. There were rope marks on her wrists and upper arms where she'd been tied up. He could also see her breasts now, bruises and broken skin where someone had touched her. The heat of his anger was replaced by a cold rage that made his hands shake.
“Did he rape you?”
The cloth stilled and she didn't look at him.
“Did he?”
She sighed. “No.” She wiped her face again.
“Are you sure? I smell his seed on your clothing.”
“That's because he made me—” She swallowed convulsively.
“Made you what?”
“Suck his cock.”
Richard stared at her bowed head. “I'm going to kill him very slowly and
feed
him his own bloody cock for that.” He took a calming breath. “Is it Lord Keyes?”
“No, I think I would have recognized his voice.”
“You were blindfolded?”
“Yes.”
Richard nodded and went to retrieve the large drying sheet he had left to warm by the fire.
“Are you ready to come out of the bath?”
She shivered. “I don't think I'll ever be ready, or I'll ever be clean.”
Richard reached over the bath and picked her up. She clung to him, soaking his coat and shirt. He wrapped her in the bath sheet and sat her on his knee in front of the fire.
After a long while, she nudged him with her nose. “You should not be here.”
“Don't start that again.” He kissed the top of her head.
“He said that if I didn't leave you and come to him, he would kill you. I can't let him do that.”
“Did he threaten you before or after he forced you to suck his cock?”
She sighed and nestled closer. “I couldn't stop him.”
“Of course, you couldn't.”
“It was . . . horrible.”
He smoothed her still-damp hair. “I'm sure it was.”
She licked her lips. “But I can't seem to get rid of his taste.”
Mindful of her swollen lip, he kissed her very gently. “When you feel better, I'll kiss you until you taste of nothing but me. I'll fuck you so much that you'll smell just like me, dripping wet, full of my come.” He kissed her again. “I'll hold your breasts in my hands and slide my cock between them and come all over you. I'll come in your mouth as many times as you'll have me, or in your arse, or your cunt, whatever you need so that you'll not think of him ever again. You'll only taste of me, of us.”
He felt her relax against him and smiled against her hair. “And now I'm going to put you to bed so that you can sleep for a while.”
She opened her mouth. “You won't . . . ?”
“I won't do anything until you are feeling better, I promise.” He held her wary gaze. “We are in this together.”
“Thank you.”
He lifted her into his arms, took her over to his bed, and tucked her in.
“Sleep for a while. I'll make sure that everything is well at Knowles House and that Jack is safe.”
He left a candle burning by the side of the bed and made his way down the back stairs toward the kitchen. Without saying a word to the staff assembled in the warm, cozy space, he kept walking and descended into the cellar until he could go no farther. He picked up the nearest wine bottle and smashed it hard against the wall, then reached for another.
“Could you choose something a little less expensive next time, brother?”
He looked up to see Christian on the last step and slowly lowered the bottle he had clenched in his hand.
“What do you recommend?”
“Anything to the left of you.” Christian sat down on the bottom step. “Might I ask why you feel the need to destroy perfectly good wine?”
Richard smashed another bottle and then stared at the reddish pool of wine that was now trickling down onto the stone floor. “I can't get my hands on the man I really want to destroy, so this will have to suffice.” He inhaled the heady bouquet of the rich wine. “He touched her, Christian. That bastard
fondled
and hurt her.” His harsh breathing echoed around the stone vault.
“Then he deserves to die,” Christian said. “Do you feel better now?”
“A little.”
“Then might I suggest we return to the kitchen? There is a note for you from our father.”
 
Violet waited until she was certain that Richard had left and then cautiously opened her eyes. She didn't have time to wait to see if Jack was still presumed dead. If Mr. Brown believed it was true, that was all she needed to know. She eased herself out of the warm covers and considered what to do next. Richard had taken all her clothes and, in truth, she had no wish to wear any of them again. But there had to be some garments either in Richard's room or one of the others. Thank goodness he hadn't thought to lock her in.
It took her longer than she wanted, but eventually she assembled the basic necessities for a gentleman to wear and put them on. God, she hurt in so many places it was hard to stay on her feet, but she had no choice. She couldn't allow Richard to suffer again. And, in truth, she wanted the pleasure of killing Mr. Brown herself. If she survived that, perhaps she could come back to Richard on her own terms with nothing between them but love.
With a last longing look back at the bed, she let herself out of the room and crept down the servants' stairs until she emerged into the blackness of the night on Barrington Square.
 
“So Jack Lennox is ‘dead,' his twin is under suspicion of murdering him, but there is no hard evidence to support this, and you hope there never will be.” Christian studied Richard across the table.
“Yes.”
“And Vincent Lennox is currently under my roof after being beaten by a spymaster who wants everyone connected with his despicable crimes dead. Do I have this right?”
“Yes.”
“And why didn't anyone tell me about this before?” Christian demanded.
“Because you didn't need to know,” Richard replied. He shoved a hand through his already disordered hair. “Now we just have to wait for Mr. Brown to try and contact Violet after Jack's funeral.”
“You think you'll be able to stop him kidnapping her this time, do you?”
Richard glared at his half brother. “Don't remind me. I already have Patrick Kelly watching her every move.”
Christian took a sip of his brandy. “What I don't understand is why you don't just wait for Helene to discover the identity of this gentleman for you.”
“Because Violet and Jack had already been threatened and I was afraid that if we waited too long, one of them would really be killed.” Richard groaned and buried his face in his hands. “And Violet threatened to take on Mr. Brown by herself.”
Christian consulted Philip's note. “Father says that Jack's death seems to have been accepted by the majority of the
ton
, and that he is going to arrange for the burial on Friday. In the meantime, how do you intend to clear Vincent's name?”
“I don't need to. If we get our hands on Mr. Brown, we can blame him for everything and reinstate the Lennoxes' reputation and hopefully their father's estate to them.”
“And if you don't?”
“I can't even contemplate that.” Richard rose from the table. “I need to go and see if Violet is awake, and tell her how things are progressing. You'll make sure that none of the staff gossip about her presence here?”
“Naturally.” Christian inclined his head. “Might I suggest that she dresses as a woman while she is here? That will definitely confuse matters.”
“I'll suggest it to her.” Richard hesitated before he turned to the door. “Thank you, Christian.”
“You are welcome. I only wish someone had thought to include me in all the excitement.” He smiled at Richard. “I also think Violet Lennox will make you a fine wife.”
Richard grimaced. “If she'll have me.”
“She's in love with you. She'll have you.”
“If only it were that simple.”
Christian sat forward. “It is, Richard. Just don't let anything else get in your way.”
“I'll do my best. By the way, when Ambrose comes back, will you tell him that Philip wishes to see him?”
“I will.”
Richard left Christian drinking his wine in the kitchen and walked slowly back up the stairs to his bedchamber. As soon as he opened the door his gaze went to the bed and his heart seemed to jolt in his chest. Violet wasn't there. He checked the whole room, but there was no sign of her. With a curse, he turned on his heel and ran back down to the basement.
As he burst into the kitchen, Seamus Kelly came in through the back door.
“It's all right, Mr. Ross. Patrick followed her. She's gone back to Harcourt House.”
Richard sank down onto the nearest solid surface and struggled to breathe. At least she was safe—at least he knew that. But it wasn't enough.
“Why in damnation did she run?”
“Because she is a woman and she loves you.”
“What?” He slowly raised his head to stare at Christian, who was still sitting calmly at the table.
“She wants to protect you.”
“Then she is a fool! I'm the one who should be protecting her!”
“If she is anything like the other women in our family, she probably doesn't see it like that.”
Richard looked down at his trembling hands and imagined them around Violet's throat. “When I find her, I'm going to . . .”
“May I give you some brotherly advice?” Christian turned fully to look at him. “At the moment, Violet is safe and well protected at Harcourt House. I'll send more men to make sure of that. Why not leave her there until your temper settles down and she realizes she needs your help?”
Richard glared at Christian for a long moment. “You're right. Do you think she'll realize she needs me?”
“I'm always right.” Christian smiled. “Hopefully she'll realize it
before
she puts herself into any more danger.”
“That isn't very reassuring,” Richard muttered.
“I know.”
24
“A
h, Ambrose. It is so good of you to assist me in this matter.”
Ambrose waited until Lord Knowles sat behind his desk before taking the seat in front of him. When Christian had told him that Lord Knowles wished to speak to him, Ambrose had briefly considered not going. Emily had told him to wait until she had spoken to her father about their decision to marry, and she hadn't told him anything to contradict that.
He straightened his spine anyway. If Lord Knowles wished to discuss his relationship with Emily, he was more than willing to do so. After speaking to a delighted Jethro the evening before, he now knew he had a secure job to move on to and a place for Emily to call home that wasn't associated with the pleasure house.
He realized Lord Knowles was speaking and refocused his attention.
“As I was saying, Emily told me about her conversations with Thomas Smith and the excellent advice you gave her to seek my help anew.”
Ambrose shrugged. “I thought it best, my lord.”
“And I'm glad you did. Emily can be rather stubborn. From what I understand from my wife, you are one of the few people she listens to.”
“You know that Miss Ross and I are friends?”
“How could I not?” Lord Knowles's smile was warm. “The minx has spent more time chatting to you in the kitchens of the pleasure house than she has dancing at any ball.”
“I hope that hasn't given any offense, my lord.”
“Why should it? You are an exceptional man and a good friend of Christian's. Who better to trust my daughter with?”
“As to that, sir . . .”
“I wanted to talk to you about Seamus Kelly.” Philip talked over him and Ambrose subsided. “I understand from Emily that on your instructions, he followed Mr. Smith to a different address. Did Seamus locate the journal?”
“Unfortunately, Seamus didn't have time to get into Mr. Smith's rooms, but he did find out where he was lodging.”
“Excellent. Do you think he could show me where it is?”
“You intend to confront him, my lord?”
“I do.” Philip's expression hardened. “I intend to retrieve that journal and make certain that Mr. Smith never troubles a member of my family again.”
“Might I accompany you, my lord?”
Lord Knowles studied Ambrose for a long moment. “You may. I intend to surprise him tonight.”
“Before Mr. Jack Lennox's funeral.” Ambrose cleared his throat. “Will Miss Ross be attending the funeral?”
Philip sat back and folded his hands together on the desk. “I can hardly keep her away when she considered herself affianced to the man, can I?”
“And if she wasn't engaged to him?”
“Emily will make her own mind up as to exactly where her feelings lie.”
Ambrose took a deep breath. “I think she already has, my lord.”
“And why might you think that?”
“Because I would like to ask for her hand in marriage.”
Philip considered him. “Does she return your regard?”
“I believe so. I will no longer be working at the pleasure house. I have savings and I have secured a position as a schoolteacher at a new Methodist school in east London.” Ambrose remembered to breathe. “I will be able to support her quite well, if not to the style to which she is accustomed.”
“I don't think Emily will care about that if she loves you.”
Ambrose met Lord Knowles's calm gaze. “I think she does, and I love her more than anything.” He shifted his feet. “Unless you feel that a man of my color should not marry someone of hers?”
“Why should I care about that? It is for Emily to decide, and having turned down several very eligible gentlemen of the
ton
, I suspect she knew what she wanted all along.”
“I have no knowledge of my parents or my family, my lord. If Mr. Delornay hadn't rescued me from the streets, I'd probably be dead by now.”
“But he did rescue you, and you have grown into an estimable young man of good character. A man I would be proud to include in my family—officially. You have always been part of the pleasure house family.”
Ambrose struggled to speak. “Thank you, my lord.”
“Thank me after we have dealt with Mr. Smith and gotten through the funeral tomorrow.
Then
we will have time to discuss your plans with Emily.” Philip stood and held out his hand. “I'll tell my wife, if that is acceptable to you. She has long been your champion and suspected which way the wind was blowing.”
“She has?” Ambrose shook Philip's proffered hand.
“Helene is a remarkable woman in many ways. Now, do you wish to stay and dine with us, or do you need to get back to the pleasure house?”
“I need to speak to Seamus and bring him back here with me for tonight.”
“That's true. Perhaps you could both meet me here at nine?”
“Certainly, my lord.” Ambrose turned to leave. “And thank you.”
It wasn't until he was out on the street that he managed to breathe again and promptly startled an elderly couple by letting out a whoop of pure joy. Lord Knowles hadn't ordered him from his sight for daring to fall in love with his daughter. In truth, he had made Ambrose feel as if he would be a welcome addition to the family.
Family
.
Ambrose stopped walking and his vision blurred. Emily loved him and her family seemed ready to accept him. As Jethro had been telling him for years. He was, indeed, truly blessed.
 
Violet studied Jack carefully, but he looked remarkably well for a man who was to be buried the next morning. The Delornay family had managed to find a suitable corpse to substitute for Jack in the elaborate coffin that now sat in state at the local chapel. Jack had been secreted in the attics of Knowles House and was apparently unaffected by all the uproar.
“You seem well,” Violet said.
“What did you expect?” Jack stood up and stretched. “I've a few bruises from when the horse came down on me, but other than that I'm fine.” He studied her carefully. “In fact, I look a lot better than you do. What happened?”
“I finally met Mr. Brown.”
“And?”
“It wasn't a pleasant experience. He gave me time to attend your funeral, and after that he expects me to leave Richard and come to him.”
“I assume you told him to go to the devil.”
“I did. Richard and I had already agreed that there was no point in me pretending I could kill you and not suffer for it. When I refused to go to him, Mr. Brown grew angry.” She drew an unsteady breath. “He said he would have Richard killed if I didn't obey him.”
Jack sat down on the side of his bed. “So you decided to be noble and run away from Richard again.” At her look of surprise, he shrugged. “I might be dead, but I've been listening to all the gossip from the staff.”
Violet winced. “Don't say it like that.” She sat next to Jack on the bed. “I can't let Richard be killed. I love him. I have to stop Mr. Brown by myself.”
“Violet, if Richard had ordered you to keep out of the way while he saved you from Mr. Brown, how would you have felt?”
“He
did
try, but when I refused, he understood it was important for me to be involved.”
“Then why can't you see that he needs to be involved in this too? Whether he has mentioned it or not, the man loves you, Violet. You need to give him the opportunity to feel like you are in this fix together.”
Violet sighed. “I just want this to end. I want to live out the rest of my life in a sea of quiet tranquility. Is that too much to ask? I want a home and a family, but it is so hard to trust anyone, isn't it?”
Jack squeezed her hand. “After our past, indeed it is, but I think Richard would die for you if you let him.”
“But that's the whole point. I don't want him to die.”
“Then work with him and save each other.” Jack kissed her cheek. “I can't wait to attend my own funeral tomorrow. You are going to be there, aren't you?”
“Yes, I am. Even though I am under suspicion, no one has been able to prove I did anything to your horse. I doubt I'll be welcome, but the Knowles family name will protect me.”
Noises floated up from the stairwell below and Violet stiffened. “I should go. I don't want Richard finding me here.”
“Still skittish, my love?” Jack walked over to the door and pushed it open a crack. “I don't think they are coming up. You're quite safe.”
Violet crossed to the small attic window and pulled back the tattered curtain. She carefully climbed out on the roof and smiled back at her twin.
“I'll see you tomorrow, Jack.”
“If you don't slip on those infernal roof tiles.”
She blew him a kiss. He had always been far more afraid of heights than she was. “Good night. I'm so glad you aren't really dead.”
He waved her off, and she carefully scrambled over the rooftop and shimmied down the drainpipe at the corner. From there it was a matter of minutes back to Harcourt House. She noticed a large shadow detach itself from the row of elm trees. A glimmer of light from the streetlamp illuminated Patrick Kelly's red hair and she relaxed.
Just as she was about to run for the safety of the next alleyway, a hackney pulled up at the front of the Knowles mansion and Violet pressed herself against the wall. She watched two very familiar figures alight from the vehicle and go up the steps to the front door. Why were Ambrose and Seamus Kelly visiting at such a late hour?
A gust of wind with a hint of rain blew around the corner into her face. She decided it was better to find shelter at Harcourt House than stand outside in the dark speculating about the goings-on at the Ross's house. Jack was safe and that was all that concerned her. Tomorrow she would have to deal with both Richard and Mr. Brown. She definitely needed her rest.
Ambrose glanced back down the steps.
“Is Patrick here? I thought he was guarding Violet Lennox.”
“He is, sir,” Seamus replied, his gaze following Ambrose's. “Mayhap Miss Lennox decided to visit her brother.”
“That wouldn't surprise me at all. She seems to be the adventurous type,” Ambrose said. “She'll fit well into the Delornay-Ross clan.”
The door opened and they stepped inside out of the cold. Before the butler could even announce their arrival, Lord Knowles came into the hallway, already dressed to leave.
“Good, you are here. Seamus, do you remember how to get to Mr. Smith's lodgings?”
“I do, sir.” Seamus nodded. “It's a fair step from here, but not too difficult to find if you know your way.”
“Then let's be off.”
 
Violet carefully let herself into her bedroom at Harcourt House and stood for a moment regaining her breath and considering the quality of the silence around her. Something was different. She remained by the window and without turning her head, let her gaze travel around the small room. With a small sigh, she withdrew her dagger and walked over to the curtained bed.
Of course, he'd known where she was, but he'd respected her enough to allow her the time to come to terms with what had happened. A surge of love shook through her.
She placed the tip of the blade against his neck until he flinched. “You should not be here.”
“Are you going to slit my throat?”
Richard's quiet tone stirred something within her and she sheathed the dagger. As her eyes became accustomed to the dark, she saw that he was naked—the bed covers drawn up to his hips, the linen raised over the thrust of his already erect cock. She slowly took off her clothes and climbed on top of him, heard his soft groan as his cock brushed her skin.

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