Tempting a Sinner (13 page)

“Are you surprised that Mr. Fisher recommended you?”

He smiled. “To be honest, yes. I didn’t think he and my brother were on very good terms these days. But it is to Mr. Fisher’s credit that he didn’t allow that to influence his endorsement. I, for one, appreciate it.”

“I understand you were in the military, Mr. Maclean?”

“Yes, I was invalided out after the peninsular campaign.”

“And what made you decide to take the position of a gentleman’s secretary?”

Mr. Maclean’s smile was wry. “Lack of funds, my lord. The English Crown beggared my family estate after the last Stuart risings, and my father’s gambling finished it off. I had to find a way to support my mother and my siblings.”

“Which was highly commendable of you.”

He shrugged. “I never saw it as a choice. We abandoned the castle and made our home in one of the cottages on the estate. It is far cheaper to run, and we do very well there on my salary and my mother’s pension.”

“I should imagine.” Benedict sat back. “Do you harbor any ill will toward the English for the state your family was reduced to?”

“You mean, am I likely to abscond with all your secrets to France? No, my family had a genius for picking the wrong sides in every conflict, even the internal Scottish ones. I don’t blame anyone but ourselves.”

“I deal with very complex matters of state, Mr. Maclean. I need someone who is completely trustworthy to work for me.”

“I understand that, my lord.” Mr. Maclean raised his gaze to meet Benedict’s. “All I can say is that I will be the best damned secretary you have ever had.”

Benedict held his gaze. “I’ll need to see your references, and speak to Mr. Fisher.”

“Of course, my lord.” Mr. Maclean handed over a bundle of letters. “I have letters of recommendation for you here, and the addresses of all my previous employers so that you can contact them yourself.”

“Thank you, Mr. Maclean.”

“You’re welcome, my lord.” His potential employee rose and bowed. “Thank you for seeing me.”

Benedict stood and held out his hand, saw the flicker of surprise in Mr. Maclean’s green eyes before he shook it. “I will be in contact with you shortly.”

“Thank you.”

As if by magic, Maddon appeared at the door and looked inquiringly at Benedict. “Shall I see Mr. Maclean out, my lord?”

“Yes, please.”

Even though he knew Adam was waiting for him, he took a moment to peruse the references Maclean had brought with him and raised his eyebrows. There was no reason to worry about his potential secretary’s ability to keep a secret. He’d worked with two former members of the government and a retired general. The general had recently died, leaving his secretary to seek a new position.

For some reason, Benedict felt that Mr. Maclean would suit him perfectly. He’d have to check with Adam first, though. He didn’t wish there to be tension between the two men. He had a suspicion that the younger Maclean had been more than an old school friend to Adam.

Maddon returned and Benedict abandoned his desk and walked toward him.

“Have you heard from Lady Westbrook?”

“I understand she went out to visit Lady Benedict Keyes at your other address.”

“And she hasn’t returned yet?”

“Not as far as I know, sir. Do you wish to be informed when she does?”

“No, I’m sure she’ll come and find me if she has anything to say.” He accompanied Maddon out into the kitchens, recovered his hat, gloves, and heavier coat, and headed out into the brisk morning sunlight.

It didn’t take long to reach the Queen’s Head and discover Adam tucked away in one of the private rooms enjoying a tankard of ale and a large breakfast.

“Good morning, Benedict.” Adam gestured at the groaning table. “Help yourself. You look exhausted.”

“I missed a lot of work. I’m still trying to catch up.” Benedict picked up a plate. “I just interviewed a potential secretary, a Mr. Maclean.”

Adam put his tankard down. “Which one? The elder son, Alistair, has an ancient Scottish title that he doesn’t use, and the younger, Harry, is an acquaintance of mine.”

“So the elder Mr. Maclean told me.” Benedict observed his partner carefully. “Would it trouble you if I employed Alistair Maclean? I liked him.”

“He would make an exemplary secretary, and one I heartily recommend to you, even though his brother has proven . . . less satisfactory in many ways.”

There was an unusual hint of reserve in Adam’s voice.

“I won’t employ him if it means you are brought into contact with a family you are at odds with.”

Adam sighed. “We’re not at odds. Harry has just . . . moved on to other things. It’s not an issue, Benedict, and certainly unlikely to cause me any problems at the Sinners.”

“You’re sure about that?”

“Yes.” Adam smiled and refilled his tankard. “Now, how is your lovely wife?”

“My wife is currently with Lady Westbrook.”

“I can’t imagine a more dangerous pair. But you never know, Lady Westbrook might be more successful at finding out the truth than you or I could ever be.”

Benedict filled his plate and realized he was starving. “I assume the earl told you everything.”

“He did.” Adam hesitated. “I don’t think your wife was involved in the robbery either.”

“Thanks for that.” Benedict sat down and concentrated on eating.

Adam refilled his plate and sat opposite him. “Then what’s your plan?”

“I’m supposed to have a plan?”

“You usually do.”

“But I’ve never had to investigate my father and my wife before.”

“If it is too personal, I’m quite prepared to deal with it for you.”

Benedict pointed his knife at Adam. “Thank you, but you are not to go anywhere near my wife.”

“Did I offend her in some way?”

“No. She rather liked you.”

Adam’s smile was full of satisfaction. “I knew she was a woman after my own heart.”

“And she’s my wife.”

“She doesn’t even seem to agree with you about that.”

“She doesn’t agree with me about anything on principle. It is her life’s purpose to make my life as difficult as possible.”

Adam grinned. “She really does have you in a tangle, doesn’t she?”

Benedict took refuge in his ale and finished his food. “Lady Westbrook is going to take her under her wing and introduce her into society. Hopefully if someone
is
interested in her, it will draw him or her out.”

“Does your wife know about this?”

“She keeps telling me that the danger stems solely from my father, and is willing to go along with my request that she stay in London until I can escort her to Lincolnshire.”

Adam drained his tankard. “I don’t believe that for a second.”

Benedict sighed. “Neither do I. She’s like my father; she
never
does what I ask her. She never has.”

“At least you know that.”

“True. Can you find out about the other men who died in that ambush? I’m also interested in any member of the regiment who left the army and suddenly came into wealth.”

“I’ll check, but it will be difficult because of the time that has passed.”

“Someone must have benefited from stealing that payroll, someone who knew exactly when and where to stage that ambush.” Benedict pushed his plate away. “It’s a shame that Malinda’s mother died. She was a great one for gossip, and knew everything that went on in our camp, sometimes even before the participants themselves.”

“Did she stay with the army after Malinda left?”

“In a fashion. She quickly remarried a man she’d known for many years. He’d just bought a promotion, so she followed him into his new regiment. She reunited with Malinda and she had another child, Doris, whom I also met at Alford Park. When the fighting grew more intense, she boarded Malinda and the baby at one of the French nunneries. They were quite safe throughout the rest of the war.”

“So you kept track of her, then?”

“Of Malinda?” He shrugged. “When I had the resources to do so, of course I did.”

“Even though your father said she’d married you for your money, and she left you?”

“Yes.”

Adam shook his head. “I damn well hope she isn’t involved in all this.”

“Why?”

“Because I think it would break you.”

“I doubt it.” He managed to laugh. “I survived her betrayal at eighteen, and it taught me an important lesson about trusting anyone. I told you Malinda’s mother died last year, didn’t I?”

“Yes.”

“And very soon after that, my wife started her preparations to come to England. What did she find out that made her decide to defy my father and come home? What else could her mother have told her?”

“The identities of the ambushers?”

“I’m not sure she’d know them.” Benedict rose to his feet and started pacing. “It has to be something—something that made Malinda reassess the past and realize she had to confront it. That would be just like her.”

“Then why didn’t she tell you the whole story?”

“I don’t know, but I’m going to do my damnedest to find out.”

M
alinda gave a happy sigh as she surveyed all the boxes and bags filled with her new clothes, hats, and slippers. The cost of all the items put together would surely send Benedict around to Maddox Street in a rage, and then she could sweetly remind him that he’d insisted he could afford it. Her smile disappeared. But he probably wasn’t coming back. Having set Lady Westbrook on her, he’d probably think his responsibilities were at an end.

She picked up one of the new day dresses and held it against her. But wasn’t his absence a good thing? It meant she could pursue her grudge against his father without him being present or involved. She shouldn’t be feeling guilty for deceiving him when it was in his own best interests not to know what she suspected his father had done. She’d thought about the problem long and hard, and couldn’t see another way around it. She’d needed him to gain access to his father but that was now accomplished. How could she expect him to believe her suspicions when she only had the minimum of proof? Even as a child, Benedict had hated conjecture and always wanted the facts.

If only she could force his father to confess to her. . . .

But how? He would laugh in her face.

There had to be a way, and she had very little time to achieve her aim before either the marquis took action against her or Benedict worked out what she was up to. And he would. She’d never been able to keep anything from him for long. Her gaze fell on the bedside table, and she considered the objects she’d found in the drawers—the jade phalluses, the silken cords, and other things she couldn’t quite identify but was sure Benedict knew exactly what to do with for each and every piece....

A knock on the outside door heralded the arrival of Jason with a folded sheet of paper for her.

“Message for you, my lady.”

“Thank you, Jason. Will you wait a moment to see if I need to reply?”

He sat himself down by the fire and warmed his hands while she read the short note.

Regret I will be unable to join you for dinner tonight due to pressure of work. I remain, as always your faithful servant, Benedict, Lord Keyes.

This would be the third night he’d stayed away. With a snarl she screwed the note up into a ball and threw it in the direction of the fire. Jason ducked to avoid the missile hitting him on the head.

“What’s wrong, my lady?”

“Your master is an inconsiderate pig.”

Jason frowned. “What’s he gone and done now?”

“He—” Malinda stared at the boy. “Jason, would you be willing to help me out with a little experiment?”

“What’s that mean?”

“It’s for a game I’d like to beat Lord Keyes at.”

“Oh.”

“I’d pay you for your trouble.”

He jumped up. “What exactly do you want me to do?”

She nodded at the hallway. “You know that man out there?”

“Mr. Niall, you mean?”

“Do you think you could distract him long enough for me to get out of the house?”

“Why would you want to do that?”

“Just to see if I can. I promise I’ll come back, and I won’t tell anyone what you did to help me.”

He folded his arms across his chest. “It sounds like a silly thing to do to me. Who will look after you when you’re on the streets? It’s dangerous out there at night for a lady. And I can’t lie to Lord Keyes. My mum would kill me.”

She stared at her ten-year-old inquisitor and sighed. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Why can’t you just ask Mr. Niall to take you where you want to go?”

“Because he probably won’t do it.”

“But if you don’t
ask
him, and simply start out the door, he’ll have to come after you, won’t he?”

His startling example of childish logic made her smile. “You’re right.”

“Then you don’t need me, do you?”

She kissed the top of his head and he squirmed away, his cheeks red, and ran for the door.

It didn’t take her long to change into one of her new gowns, fill her reticule, and return to the door. With a calm smile she started down the stairs.

“Good evening, Niall.”

“My lady, what—”

She was almost at the bottom of the stairs when she heard him start down them, calling her name, and was on the pavement outside before he finally caught up with her.

“My lady, you . . .” He was breathing hard.

“I’m going out, Niall. You can come with me, or you can go back inside.” As he showed no signs of moving, she continued, “Do you want to call a hackney, or shall we walk?”

Niall escorted her to the back of the Sinners and knocked until one of the staff came to unlock the door and let them inside. Malinda put on her sweetest smile and looked up at the surprised footman.

“It’s James, isn’t it?” She lowered her voice. “Can you help me get upstairs to my husband’s bedchamber without being seen by anyone else?” She gave him a brief glimpse of the note in Benedict’s handwriting she’d retrieved and uncrumpled from the floor. “He said I should be
discreet
.”

James went red but nodded manfully. “Yes, my lady. You can use the backstairs.”

“Thank you.”

She followed him up several flights of steep, narrow stairs and emerged puffing on a small landing that contained three other doors.

“This is Lord Keyes’s apartment, my lady.”

“Is he there?”

“I believe he’s still working, my lady. Do you want me to let him know you’ve arrived?”

“Oh no, I don’t wish to disturb him. I’ll wait for him to come upstairs.” She nodded at the door. “Can you let me in? I don’t have my key.”

“Certainly, my lady.”

Moments later she was on the other side of the door, and let out a quiet sigh of satisfaction. Niall was safely in the kitchen, and Benedict was trapped in his study. She had time to search the apartment to make certain he wasn’t concealing anything important from her and mayhap play a little trick on him as well....

After two hours of looking, she’d found out nothing of any importance except that Benedict liked to read, and had a wardrobe of extremely well-made clothes and polished boots, which were fashionable but not ostentatious or showy at all. She sank down on the side of the large bed and kicked off her shoes.

Would it be better to simply leave before he knew she’d even been there? She shook her head. Niall’s presence in the kitchen would draw comment, and Benedict would know something was up. She didn’t want to draw his attention in the wrong way. It would be much better if she could go on convincing him that she was simply too besotted to leave him alone and was happy to leave all other matters in his capable hands. With that thought, she opened up her reticule and started to unpack.

“Here you are, sir.”

Benedict looked up to see James bending over him, with a tray holding a pot of fresh coffee in his gloved hands.

“Thank you.”

James put the tray down and hesitated. “Mr. Maddon said to tell you that it is getting late, my lord.”

“So?”

“And that you shouldn’t strain yourself.”

Benedict unconsciously eased his throbbing shoulder. “I think it’s too late for that.”

“Then perhaps, my lord, you should stop for the night and, well . . .”

“And, well, what?” He could’ve sworn James winked at him.

“You know, sir.” James definitely winked. “Your lady.” He raised his eyebrows heavenward.

“Thank you, James. That will be all.”

Before the door even closed behind the footman, Benedict gulped down an entire cup of scalding coffee and shot to his feet. Even the mention of his wife made him nervous, and he had no idea what James was angling at. He refilled his cup and went out into the hallway. Everything seemed to be running normally, so he went down to the kitchens, only to be brought up short by the sight of Niall sitting at the table.

“What are you doing here?” Benedict demanded.

Niall rose to his feet. “Her ladyship went out.”

“She did
what?
”

“She walked right past me all ready to go, so I grabbed my hat and followed her.”

Benedict was aware of a sense of relief washing over him. “You did the right thing. Thank you.”

Niall looked relieved. “She said she wanted to come here. I didn’t think there could be any harm in that.”

Poor sweet, deluded Niall. Benedict clapped the other man on the shoulder. “You did exactly as I would’ve wished. Where is she now?”

“I believe James took her upstairs, my lord.”

“Then you continue to wait here, and when I’ve seen her, I’ll bring her back down so you can escort her home.”

“Yes, my lord.” Niall sat down again.

Benedict finished his coffee and left the cup on the table. He turned on his heel and climbed up to the third-floor apartments, surprised there wasn’t fire shooting out of his nostrils. Why couldn’t she stay put? Why did she have to hound him like this?

He opened the door and went through into the living area, but there was no sign of her. His bedroom door was open, so he kept moving.

“Ah, there you are, Benedict.”

He halted at the door and glared at his wife.

“What are you doing here? Didn’t you get my note?”

She turned around and smiled at him. She wore a fashionable gown made in green silk with an extremely low bodice. “I did, thank you.” She looked beautiful.

“Then what in God’s name do you want?”

“I was worried about you.”

“I’m perfectly fine.”

She bit her lower lip and eyed him consideringly. “You look terrible.”

“Thank you. As I said, I am extremely busy because you shot me and tied me to a bed for three weeks.”

“I do wish you’d stop going on about that. I’ve explained what happened on several occasions. There is no need to bear a grudge.”

He stared at her for a full minute as he fought to regain his temper. No one else in the world enraged him so quickly or so completely as Malinda. But she knew that, so what was she really after?

“I repeat. How may I assist you?”

“As I said, I was worried about you, alone in this place with no one to give you . . . comfort.”

“By comfort, do you mean sex?”

She fluttered her eyelashes at him. “That is part of it.”

“I told you. I can go downstairs and get that in an instant, or stroll around the corner to the Delornay pleasure house and get even more.”

“Oh.” She looked as if she might cry. “Then I suppose my journey was wasted.” She turned away and bent to pick up her shoes.

He forced himself to speak. “I’m not bedding you, Malinda.”

“I don’t believe I asked you to.”

“Why else would you be here?” He tried to soften his tone. “You must realize it would be a mistake for us to be too close at the moment.”

She stiffened, her color high, and looked him right in the eye. “Please listen carefully. I am not a fool. I did not come here tonight to beg you to take me to bed. I was concerned that you might be missing your ‘toys’ and brought them to you, that is all.”

“What toys?”

She moved to one side and pointed to the objects lined up neatly on the bed. “These.”

As if in a trance, he walked over to the bed and opened the first box, which contained jade phalluses. A silk bag contained soft rope and scarves, and another smaller box held a set of silver cock rings.

“What exactly do you
do
with the rings?” Malinda spoke close to his ear, making him jump. She was incorrigible. She turned his brain to mush and made other parts of him as hard as steel. And she bloody well knew it. He was too tired to even fight with her. Perhaps it was time to call her bluff.

“Would you like me to show you?” He started to pull off his coat and tugged at his cravat until he was able to throw it to the floor. “My only condition is that you sit in that chair by the fire, and you do not move one damned inch unless I tell you to.”

She sat down so quickly her petticoats rustled, and placed her hands in her lap.

He finished undressing and climbed up onto the bed, retrieved a bottle of oil from the bedside cabinet, and set it beside the other pleasure toys. Ignoring them for a moment, he faced Malinda and slowly ran his hands over his chest, down to his hips, and over his flat stomach. He repeated the motion, soothing his skin, petting himself, pinching his nipples between his finger and thumb until they ached and stayed hard.

He licked his fingers and touched his nipples again. She licked her lips and he pictured them hovering over his cock. Still holding her gaze, he cupped his balls and stroked himself until a thin bead of pre-cum emerged from his cock. He rubbed his thumb into the wetness, creating more, until his fingers were slick with it, and his shaft moved more easily through the clasp of his hand. She shivered and he smiled at her.

“How kind of you to bring me these gifts. How noble and self-sacrificing of you.”

“It was the least I could do.” She tensed as he got off the bed and walked toward her, one hand concealed behind his back.

“Normally the scarves would be to hold me in place for another man to fuck me, but tonight I think I’ll use them to restrain you.” Before she could react, he wound one of the silk scarves around her right wrist and trapped her hand against the arm of the chair. He did the same to her left hand and then considered her mouth.

“I could gag you, but then I wouldn’t be able to do this.” He rubbed his sticky cum-laden fingers over her lips and she moaned something that might have been his name. He pressed his thumb into her mouth, mimicking the motion of his cock, and she sucked on him until he pulled free and returned to the bed, his shaft thickening with every second. Picking up the silver cock rings, he brought them back to show her.

“This is quite a complex pair. Some have no hinges, and the rings have to be put on before one’s cock becomes too large.” He unclipped the larger center ring and showed it to her before easing it around the base of his erection and fastening it. “I had these made to fit me.”

He eased his balls through the smaller rings and let out his breath as the metal bit into his most tender flesh. His balls were now pulled up tight against his cock and his shaft was held away from his stomach by the thickness of the band. He stroked a finger through the gathering wetness and trailed it down his cock to the soft skin behind his balls.