Tempting a Sinner (11 page)

“Ah.” She continued to hold his hand. “That makes sense, although it does seem a little greedy of your family to hoard so many honors.”

“My father considers it his duty to keep as much wealth and privilege as he can to himself.”

“But you prefer to be simply Lord Keyes.”

“Officially, I’m Kesteven. At this moment, I’d prefer to be Ben, the well-paid prostitute.”

She slid her hand around the back of his neck and brought his head down for a kiss. “How much are your rates?”

He half-smiled against her mouth. “For you? Less than my father considered you were worth. Let’s say, a farthing?”

“As that is all I have in the world, I consider it money well spent.” She licked a sultry line between his lips. “But only if you let me tell you what to do.”

He caught her lower lip between his teeth. “I think I can manage that.”

The hackney stopped outside the house in Maddox Street, and Benedict paid the driver and walked with her up the stairs to the apartment. Jenny had been in to set the rooms to rights. The fires were banked; a fresh newspaper lay on the table beside a bunch of wildflowers tied with a ribbon in a jar.

“I believe you have made a conquest,” Benedict said. “Jason never used to leave me flowers.”

“He is a very sweet boy.”

“He’s a rascal. His father was a friend of mine. When he was killed in France, I made sure that Jenny and his two sons were taken care of.”

Malinda took off her bonnet and pelisse and laid them carefully over the back of the chair. “I did wonder.”

“Whether the boys were mine?”

“They could have been.” She shrugged. “Not that I would have minded. I’ve had lovers myself in the past.”

“And carried their children?”

“No. There are ways to prevent conception if one is careful.” She hesitated. “Not that any method is completely safe.” She studied him carefully. “Aren’t you going to undress?”

“I was waiting to be told what I was supposed to do.”

She sighed. “I don’t really want to own you right now, Benedict, I just want—” She gasped as he swooped down on her, picked her up, and walked her into the bedroom. He laid her on the bed, pushed up her voluminous skirts, and climbed on top of her. Making short work of his trouser buttons, he shoved them down and thrust his cock deep inside her.

“Oh yes—” she breathed. “That’s exactly what I wanted.” She wasn’t quite ready for him, but she didn’t care. He made himself at home, stretching her to accommodate him as if it was his right. And God, it felt right. It always had. The slam of his groin against her, and the urgency of his need, made her wet for him. Her climax built slowly along with his, and soon she was gripping him with her arms and legs and tilting her hips to allow him access to the deepest, neediest parts of her.

“Oh, God . . .”
She gasped as the long, slow waves of a climax rolled over her and he went still, holding himself deep inside, impaling her on his thick length.
“Benedict.”

He levered himself up on his hands and stared down at her, his expression impassive, only his cock and lower body still entangled with hers. She tried to bring him back down to her but he shook his head and pulled out.

“No, don’t—”

He reversed his direction, his cock now positioned over her head and his mouth on her cunt.

“Suck my cock.”

She reached for him and brought him down between her lips as his mouth met her clit and the empty, throbbing place where his cock had just filled her. He crammed four fingers inside her, his thumb in her arse, his mouth on her clit, and she screamed around his stiff cock, making him groan.

Now all she could think of was pleasuring his cock, of taking him as deep as he was taking her, of giving him everything he wanted. He groaned against her sex, the vibrations making her climax, and he thrust strongly into her mouth and released his come in thick waves that she swallowed because he was so deep.

Within a moment he rolled off her and drew her against his side. All she could do was lie next to him and breathe. After a while, he stripped off her clothing and his own and pulled the covers over them.

“It’s only midday,” Malinda murmured.

“After the morning we’ve had, there’s nothing wrong with enjoying a short nap.”

“I suppose not.” She sighed and rubbed her cheek against his bare chest. “Thank you for supporting me.”

“It was my pleasure.”

“I can go back to Alford Park now, and live there in peace.” Beneath her his body tensed. “Perhaps not
quite
yet.”

She opened her eyes. “Why not?”

“Because I don’t trust my father.”

“If you send me back with some of your trained personnel, I’ll be fine.”

“I’m sure you will, eventually. But I’d prefer you to wait until I can accompany you and make sure the security arrangements are to my satisfaction.”

She came up on one elbow and glared down at his calm face. “Why can’t you come with me tomorrow?”

“Because I’ve been away from my place of work for almost a month, which, by the way, is entirely your fault. I need to catch up.”

“And what am I supposed to do in the meantime?”

“Enjoy London?”

“You are
impossible
.”

“You put me in this situation.” His blue-eyed gaze was far too innocent for her liking. “The least you can do is be patient for a week or so.”

She lay back down again with a thump and stared up at the canopy of the vast bed. “Go back to work, then. I don’t care what you do.”

“Thank you, I will.”

“Good. I’m sure I can find many things to amuse me.”

“I’m sure you can. In fact, the Countess of Westbrook would probably be delighted to take you around with her.”

“She’s the woman who sent me my new dress, isn’t she? I have no idea who she is.” Malinda was aware that she sounded rather like a sulky schoolgirl, but she was too tired to care.

“She’s one of the founding members of the Sinners Club. You’ll like her.”

“We’ll see.”

He stroked her cheek. “There is one more thing.”

“What now?”

“I would appreciate it if you are known as my wife, Lady Keyes, or if you prefer it, the Viscountess of Kesteven.”

“That’s ridiculous on so many levels.”

“Why?”

“Why is it important for you to maintain this fiction? Announcing to the
ton
that you’ve had an unsuitable wife stashed away for eighteen years will invite just the kind of gossip and scandal you abhor.”

“I’m not ashamed to be married to you.” There was an obstinate note in his pleasant reply that she knew rather too well. “Being known as my wife will keep you safe.”

“From what?” This time she sat up. “Do you imagine your father is going to have me murdered?”

He stared up at her, one hand beneath his head, his blond hair disordered on the pillow. “It’s an interesting thought.”

“I was jesting!” She blinked at him. “You wish to use me as
bait?
”

He raised his eyebrows. “There’s no need to get so agitated. I’m used to considering the best and worst of every situation and attempting to manipulate the best possible outcome.”

“Why would he want to kill me?”

His smile was devastating. “Don’t treat me like a fool, Malinda. My father went to great lengths to scare you away at seventeen and he’s completely failed to detach you from me. Do you really think he’ll meekly accept my command and leave you in peace?”

She swallowed hard. “Now you are wandering off into the realm of fantasy. He’s obviously a sick man who simply wants to see his son marry well and produce an heir. Once he understands that I’ll stay quietly in Alford Park and never ask for anything from the Keyes family again, he’ll calm down.”

He didn’t say anything, his far-too-acute gaze fastened on her face, a hint of a question forming in his eyes.

“What else are you afraid of?”

“That you’ll never stop pestering me for information?”

“At Alford Park you mentioned that you were fearful and needed my help.”

“With your father, which you have provided for me.”

“I suspect there is more to it than that.”

She forced a smile and bent to kiss him full on the mouth.

“Do we actually have to nap?”

He kissed her back. “No.”

“Oh, good.” She ran her hand down over his stomach and cupped his balls. His fingers closed around her wrist with surprising strength.

“Don’t do this.”

“What, touch you?”

“Distract me.”

“Why would I?”

“That, my dear, I would love to know.” He drew her hand away and threw back the covers.

“You’re leaving?”

“I think it best, don’t you?” He picked up his discarded shirt and breeches and put them on, his movements jerky, his back turned to the bed.

For a moment, Malinda glared at his tense shoulders and fought an absurd desire to cry.

“Oh well.”

She closed her eyes and listened to him finish dressing, her thoughts in turmoil.

“I’ll return for supper.”

She waved a careless hand at him. “Don’t bother on my account. I’m sure you’re very busy.”

He paused at the door. “Malinda . . .”

“What?” She pretended to yawn.

“If you go out, would you inform Jenny?”

“If you wish.”

He bowed. “Thank you.”

She didn’t bother to open her eyes. He sighed and left, closing the door softly behind him. Before the outer door slammed, she turned her face into her pillow and silently wept. She couldn’t tell him about her other fears. Dealing with his father would have to come first. If things were as she expected, all her other worries would mean nothing and Benedict wouldn’t have to worry about
her
ever again.

B
enedict ignored the slight drizzle of rain and decided to walk to the Sinners. He needed to think and the exercise would do him good. Malinda continued to confound all he believed he knew about himself simply by existing. It was quite unfair. Getting out of a bed with her still in it had proved almost impossible. But why wasn’t he satisfied with the outcome of his meeting with his father? He’d stood up for his wife, warned his father off, and ignored the old man’s attempts to sully the waters with his claims of being Malinda’s father.

Crossing the road, he tossed a coin to the small boy sweeping the pavement and angled his hat against the bite of the wind. Something was wrong; every instinct he possessed was screaming, and he’d learned to trust those instincts. He kept walking and entered the Sinners through the rear of the building. One of the footmen rose from the kitchen table and bowed to him.

“May I help you, Lord Keyes?”

“Good afternoon, William. Is the Countess of Westbrook here today?”

“I believe she is, my lord.”

“Will you go and ascertain if she will receive me?”

Benedict sat down at the kitchen table and took the hot mug of tea Cook offered him with gratitude. He was halfway down its steamy, reviving depths when the footman returned.

“My lady awaits you in her study.”

“Thank you, William. I’ll take myself up.”

Benedict used the backstairs and made his way to the second level of the house where the Westbrooks still kept their apartment and an office. Officially, they’d handed over the running of the club to Benedict and Adam, but they were still much involved. Their knowledge of the underworld of spies, traitors, and the inconsistencies of monarchs was too invaluable to lose.

He knocked and went in. Lady Westbrook was sitting in a chair by the fire. She wore her usual exquisitely fashionable gown, and her hair was drawn up into a braided coronet on the top of her head. She’d never be called a beauty, but there was something arresting about her face that had always reminded him of Malinda. Her expression brightened when he came across to kiss her hand.

“Benedict, how nice to see you. I understand you’ve been having quite an adventure.”

“That’s an understatement. I’ve been shot at, chained to a bed, lost my memory due to a fever, and been given a new identity as a prostitute.”

“A
prostitute?
”

He took the chair opposite the countess. “My captor had the enterprising idea of forcing me to regain my memory by offering me an alternate persona that she assumed I’d be shocked enough to repudiate immediately.”

“And did it work?”

“No, because I really had lost my memory. For a few days I started to believe she might be right.” He sighed. “I suspect I’ve spent too many years playing a part to even recognize the difference.”

“Yet everything worked out well in the end, didn’t it? I understand you found your wife, and united with her to confront your father.”

“News does travel fast.” He sat back. “I was hoping to engage your help.”

“In what way?”

“I want Malinda to stay in London for a few weeks while I catch up on my work here at the Sinners and on Whitehall.” He hesitated. “She’d prefer to leave immediately for Lincolnshire. I’ve persuaded her that it would be in her best interests to wait until I can return with her.”

The countess was watching him intently. “What do you fear?”

“I don’t know.” He shoved his fingers through his hair. “I just want to ensure that while she is in London she is safe. I can’t think of anyone who could keep her safer than you.”

“I’ll certainly do my best. Do you want me to take her about with me and help her rejoin society as your wife?”

“She never ‘joined’ in the first place. Her father was the sergeant in my father’s regiment. We met when we were children and became friends.” He paused. “Of course, you probably know all this.”

“Some of it. When we were considering whom we trusted to continue our work at the Sinners, we had to be sure that our candidates’ backgrounds were acceptable.”

“And you discovered I married a seventeen-year-old commoner.”

“You were only eighteen yourself, I believe.”

“And a fool, if you listen to my father. Malinda’s father was killed during an ambush. She and her mother were left destitute. My father wanted to abandon them. I refused to allow him to do that.”

He wasn’t sure even now where he’d found the courage to stand up to his terrifying father, but he had. “I married Malinda in secret and presented my father with what I thought was a
fait accompli
. Of course, it didn’t quite work out like that. The next thing I knew, Malinda was gone, paid off by my father, and her mother had remarried an old friend and gone to another regiment stationed nearby.”

“And yet you still want to keep her safe.”

He shrugged. “We were friends before we were anything else. Why would I not help her? I recently found out that my father lied to both of us. She ran because he told her he was her mother’s lover and that she was, in fact, my half sister. He told
me
that she’d accepted a large sum of money to renounce me because that was what she’d been after all the time.” His mouth twisted. “What a charming father I have.”

“One wonders why he had to go to such lengths to keep you apart.”

Benedict frowned. “With all due respect, why are you still so interested in my personal life?”

“Because I want you to be happy?”

He smiled. “I’m sure you do, but I sense this isn’t just about me. What is your interest in Malinda?”

“She is a fascinating woman. The mere fact that no one knew about her for years makes her an object of curiosity, wouldn’t you say?”

“I’ll pray you’re wrong about that. Her wish is to return to Alford Park and live quietly there. My purpose in visiting my father with her today was to gain his promise that he would not interfere with her decision to remain in England and to demonstrate that she had my protection. Hopefully, that’s an end to it.”

“Oh, dear.”

Unease prickled over his skin. “What’s wrong?”

The countess shifted in her chair and rang the bell. “Do you mind if I ask my husband to join us? He has some interesting information he wants to share with you.”

Benedict rose from his seat when the Earl of Westbrook came into the room and held out his hand.

“It is good to see you again, my lord.”

“Always a pleasure, Keyes.” The earl drew up a chair and sat next to his wife. He took her hand and kissed it. “My love.”

Benedict had always envied the couple opposite him for their obvious deep affection for each other. Their love had defied society’s expectation that the “savage” Anglo-Indian rake would ever stay faithful to the intellectual bluestocking he’d married. But they were still married, had founded the Sinners together, and owned it equally.

“There is one thing I need to ask before we go any further, Keyes.”

“And what is that, sir?”

The earl fixed his gaze on Benedict. “Are you willing to listen to the information I want to give you without allowing your emotions to cloud your judgment?”

“I’ve never done so before.”

“But this is different. This concerns members of your family.”

“All I can say is that I will do my best to remain impartial.”

“I suppose that’s the best I can hope for.”

“I also promise that I won’t take out my vengeance on the messenger.”

The earl gave him a slight smile and settled back in his chair, his hand still clasped in his wife’s.

“In the summer of 1810, you were traveling with the regiment your father raised.”

“That’s correct. We were heading back toward France after a spell on the Peninsula.”

“I understand that your wife’s father was killed during an ambush.”

“Yes. There were no survivors.”

“Who raised the alert when the soldiers failed to return?”

“I did.”

“Why?”

“Because Malinda’s mother, who also traveled with the army, was worried about her husband. I offered to carry her concerns to my father.”

“And he organized a search party.”

“No. He told me to go away and stop being a nuisance. He returned to finish his dinner.”

“And, being an obedient son, you did what he told you.”

Benedict smiled. “I gathered a few of the men and we went out ourselves.”

“And what did you find?”

He briefly closed his eyes against the horrors. “Dead bodies, and dead horses, in a narrow gully halfway up the mountain. Vultures of both the human and animal kind picking over the remains.” He shuddered.

“Did you know what the men carried?”

“The usual, I expect. A mixture of supplies and information, orders from the battalion commanders, letters from home.” He paused. “What did I miss?”

“From what I’ve discovered, they also carried the payroll.”

Benedict stared into the earl’s impassive face. “Which I suppose explains why they were attacked in the first place.”

“Indeed. You said there were no survivors.”

“There weren’t. I knew the three men and they were all accounted for.”

“The men, yes.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“Do you remember where Malinda was that night?”

“Her mother said she was sick and had stayed in their tent. That’s why I went down there in the first place—to see how she was—and found out that the men were missing.” He shrugged. “I had no reason to disbelieve her mother.”

“Sources who met Sergeant Rowland and his party when he picked up the supplies on the other side of the mountain range say there were three men and a boy in the company.”

“That can’t be right.”

“The boy was described as having freckles and the red hair of a fox.”

Benedict took a long, slow breath. “You’re assuming it was Malinda.”

“It’s possible.”

“She would
never
have run away and left her father to die.”

“What if she had no choice?”

“I suppose that’s a possibility.” He frowned. “But why didn’t she tell me about it afterward? It makes no sense.”

Silence fell and he slowly raised his head. The countess was looking anxious, her husband merely interested.

“Are you suggesting Malinda was involved in the robbery?”

“Is it possible?”

“I—” He stared at them. “No. It’s unthinkable.”

“Then we must consider other scenarios.” The earl leaned forward. “If she was there, and she witnessed the attack, perhaps she saw the murderers. It is interesting that she didn’t mention it to you, or to anyone else.”

He forced himself to think carefully about the aftermath of the discovery of the ambush.

“I didn’t see her for at least two days. My father had me flogged for daring to ignore his instructions. When I did see her, she was distraught. She and her mother were about to be thrown out of their tent and sent back to England.” He paused. “I spent the next few days arranging for us to be married. Once that was accomplished, I gave her mother what remained of my savings, and prepared to face my father. Within another day, Malinda fled. I was sent home and deposited at my school, where I remained incarcerated for the rest of the year.”

“Oh my goodness.” Lady Westbrook sighed. “What a horrible situation.”

Benedict turned back to the earl. “Does Malinda’s return to England mean she might be in danger?”

“If you don’t believe she was involved in the original crime, then yes, I think that’s a reasonable possibility.”

“Then you assume that whoever took that payroll stole from his
compatriots?
”

The earl nodded. “It also begs the question of what prompted your wife to return after eighteen years.”

“Her mother died, and the allowance from my father was cut off. She said she wanted to stay at Alford Park with her half sister and cousin and that she needed my help to do so. That’s why I insisted on taking her to meet with my father. She was extremely reluctant to see him.” He stopped. “I knew there was something more to it! Damnation, my father’s been preventing her from returning to England all along.”

“Don’t jump to conclusions, Benedict,” the countess said. “It’s not like you.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I won’t.” He set his jaw. “I just need to have a conversation with my wife before I do anything else at all.”

“Don’t judge her yet, either, Keyes.” The earl hesitated. “I wonder if I might make a suggestion?”

“Be my guest.”

“Perhaps we can utilize your original proposal, that my wife keeps an eye on yours while you work. If she is the target of unwanted attention, it will soon become apparent.”

“And she might be dead.”

“You know we won’t allow that to happen.”

“That’s an impossible promise to keep.”

The countess sighed. “Benedict, I know this is hard for you, but—”

That brought him to his senses. “I’m prepared to do whatever is necessary to find out what is going on. If either my wife or my father is involved in the murder of innocent men, I would hope I’d have the courage to charge them with their crimes.”

“Then shall we proceed as planned? Let Malinda stay in London under my wife’s sponsorship and we’ll all keep a very close eye on her. We might be wrong, of course, and this is just a coincidence.”

Somehow Benedict doubted that. “I appreciate you telling me all this.”

The earl raised an eyebrow. “I’d hardly keep you in the dark, now, would I? I trust you implicitly.”

More fool him. Benedict stood and bowed. “Where would you prefer to meet Malinda, my lady?”

“Perhaps at your house in Maddox Street? I doubt she’d feel comfortable coming here.”

“She would love to visit the Sinners. She is already highly curious about the place.”

“Then perhaps I’ll bring her here after Jack Lennox sorts out his affairs.”

“And when will that be?”

“I’m anticipating the announcement of his marriage to the Dowager Countess of Storr within a week or so.”

Benedict paused as he pulled on his gloves. “You sound very confident.”

She opened her eyes wide. “Of course I am! She is the perfect match for him.” She came across to kiss him on the cheek. “Shall we say tomorrow at ten?”