Wicked And Wild: Spencers in Love Book Two (13 page)

Chapter 23

            “None of you have found anything? No one has
heard from or seen him?” Lucien stared across his desk at the three runners
he'd hired to search for Whitrose.

            “Not a thing, Your Grace.” One stated with
certainty while the other two nodded. “As far as we can tell, he's dead.”
Lucien stood and walked to the window. Everything looked the same as it always
had but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was out there.

            “Keep looking.” He said as he turned. It was
clear that the men thought he was a fool. “Just humor me and do your best. Send
word if you find something.” With that, he nodded, dismissing them.

            Once they were gone, Lucien went to the
sideboard and poured a drink. He dropped into an armchair and squeezed his
temples. Instead of being reassured by the fact that there was no trace of
Whitrose, he felt unsettled and paranoid.

Chapter 24

            Mirabelle pressed her hand to her stomach as she
slipped into her bedroom. Her courses still hadn't begun but she didn't feel
any differently. She was always tired but Lucien required a lot of energy. She smiled
as she tugged the bell pull and waited for Mary. As she kicked off her slippers
she spied a white rose lying on her pillow. Smiling, she lifted it and brought
it to her nose. Inhaling the scent, she imagined Lucien leaving it for her. The
image moved her more than the elaborate display of flowers that had filled her
room during their engagement. Mirabelle placed it on her vanity just as Mary
entered.

            "I'd like to take a bath and have a nap
before I get ready for dinner, please." Mirabelle began undressing and
looked at the rose. She'd have to ask Lucien where he found it. As far as she
knew, there weren't any white rose bushes at Clerendon House.

            Unfortunately, there wasn't time before dinner.
She'd overslept during her nap, ignoring Mary's scolding and tugging until the
very last minute. Once she did rise, Mary ruthlessly tucked, brushed and pulled
at Mirabelle, rushing to get her dressed. Just as she was about to rise from
her vanity, Mary draped a fichu over her shoulders and began pinning it.
Mirabelle laughed and tried to pull it off.

            "Surely not! When have you ever known me to
wear one?" Mary slapped at her hand. Shocked Mirabelle stared at her maid
through the mirror.

            "You can't go down to dinner all marked up
like this!" She hissed.

            "What?" Mirabelle pulled the lace
aside and leaned forward. She gasped. There were scratches and love bites on
her neck and cleavage. She pulled her bodice down and saw that there was an
actual bite. "Lucien, you beast!" Mirabelle whispered.

            "You might want to have a word with His
Grace. And he's not the only one. I caught sight of his chest and back the
other day. I don't know what you two get up to but it's a good thing he's all
covered up."

            "Just pin this stupid thing on; I'm late as
it is."

Chapter 25

            Lucien was about to excuse himself to check on
Mirabelle when she rushed into the room.

            "Sorry! I took a nap and had the hardest
time waking up. Mary practically had to push me out of bed." She addressed
the room as she crossed to Lucien. She pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before
she went to sit with The Mothers and Elise. His cheek felt warm where her lips
had been and he had to resist the urge to press his hand to the spot.

            "I believe I owe you an apology,
Lucien." Alastair said softly. Lucien looked at him. An apology? "You
and my sister are well suited and Mirabelle is happy." Gilles nodded as he
looked towards the couch.

            "Elise was right, as always. Do you know
she has another suspicion about your wife, Lucien?" Gilles looked at him
pointedly. Alastair's brow furrowed. Lucien's heart stopped for a moment and he
couldn't feel his body. He started counting, they'd been married for almost two
months and she hadn't had her courses. He felt drunk despite being on his
second scotch. He smiled as he stared at Mirabelle.

            "She hasn't said anything yet but time and
mathematics would suggest..." His smile became wider. Gilles patted him on
the back.

            "Elise thinks she doesn't want to tell
anyone until she's certain."

            "I'd be surprised if she wasn't." Lucien
mumbled, more to himself, but Gilles and Alastair both gave him withering
looks.

            "I might go ahead and kill him."
Alastair said as he downed his scotch.

            "Do keep in mind that she's our
sister." Gilles scolded. Lucien laughed and put an arm around Alastair.

            "Would you believe that she's actually
taught me a few things? You'd be shocked if you knew. She's amazing!" He
raised his glass in salute and Mirabelle looked across the room at him,
confused. Lucien winked and looked at Alastair. His face had gone blank and he
was still before he walked away. Gilles and Lucien laughed as they watched him
at the sideboard. Which reminded Lucien... "You might want to remove some
books from your library if that ends up being a girl." Lucien nodded
towards Elise. "Mirabelle asked if I had a copy of The School of Venus.
Said the one at Spencer Place went missing before she had a chance to study
it." Gilles eyes went wide.

            "You didn't tell her what happened to it,
did you?" He gasped.

            "I didn't say a damned thing." Lucien
said under his breath. Gilles nodded as Joss came in to announce dinner.

            At the table, discussion turned to the family's
plans for the summer. The season was all but over and with Gilles recently
inheriting Longwood, there were now two options for summer retreats.

            "You're sure you don't want to come with us
to Winthorpe, Madeline?" Mirabelle asked while ignoring Lucien's foot
rubbing her calf.
Perhaps higher
? He wondered as he reclined and
stretched. She pursed her lips and glanced at him out of the corner of her eye.

            "Goodness, no! The two of you would be
terrible company. You're always taking yourselves off and making such a racket.
I think you need a little more time to yourselves." Madeline winked at
Celine and the two laughed, Alastair looked like he wanted to bolt from the
table, Elise chewed her lip to keep from laughing, Gilles glared at Lucien and
Mirabelle became absorbed with her tart. Lucien's cravat felt as if it had
become too tight and his face felt warm. He cleared his throat.

            "Right. So, Mirabelle and I will go to Winthorpe
the day after Haverford’s ball in Richmond and then join you all at Longwood a
month or so before the season starts. When do you plan to leave?" He
looked at Gilles and Alastair.

            "A few weeks, I think. Elise has been
sitting for Westmacott; I want to make sure he has all he needs to recreate her
before we leave." Everyone around the table began to murmur in excitement.
The collection of marbles at Longwood was impressive and a bust of Elise would
be an excellent addition. It was also a romantic way for Gilles to show Elise
how lovely she was.

            Lucien looked at Mirabelle. He decided he'd like
a portrait of her. Perhaps a few. One for his study and one for a more private
location...

            By the time the family left, Lucien was a little
bit drunk and very ready to take his wife to bed. At the stairs he stopped
Mirabelle and told her to dismiss her maid for the evening, that he'd like to
undress her himself. From the way she smiled and the darkening of her eyes,
Lucien could see that she liked the idea. A moment later, he passed Mary in the
hall. She bobbed him a curtsy and passed him a knowing glance.

            He was shaking his head when he shut the door
behind him.

            "Mary is a pest." He mumbled as he
walked towards Mirabelle. She was pulling pins out of her hair. It reminded him
of the first time he kissed her. Lucien leaned down to kiss her neck but found
it obscured by lace. "What's this about? It's not your usual style."
He flicked at it and wrinkled his nose.

            "It isn't and Mary isn't exactly pleased
with you either." Mirabelle smiled as she pulled the scarf and turned to
face Lucien. His eyes widened when he saw all the marks. She pulled her bodice,
revealing a neat impression of his teeth on the soft flesh of her breast.

            "Breakfast?" He asked but he knew it
must have been. Mirabelle had looked so fetching in the morning light and then
she'd licked marmalade from her lips. Lucien had to have her. He dropped his
fork and knife and dragged her into his study. He'd pushed Mirabelle on to the
couch and dove upon her. If he wasn't mistaken, she probably had similar
imprints on her hip and inside her thigh. She'd tasted so divine that the
memory of it had driven him to the point of madness until he sought her out
later in the afternoon.

            "I suppose it was worth it." Mirabelle
giggled as she turned and lifted her hair so Lucien could deal with the buttons
down her back.

            It didn't take long before he was undressed and
she was removing her stockings. Lucien watched as she rolled them down each
leg, her foot resting on the vanity stool. He let his head fall to one side as
he took in the firm round globes of her bottom. He sighed as she stood and
glanced to the top of the vanity where she'd discarded the wisps of silk. A
single white rose caught his eye. He was about to ask where it had come from
when Mirabelle turned and dropped to her knees before him.

            She took his erection in her hands and began
stroking. He looked down to see her staring up at him seductively as her tongue
slid from between her lips and swept around the head of his cock. Lucien let
his head fall back and groaned as he pushed a hand into her hair. Mirabelle had
mastered the skill and knew exactly what he liked. She opened her mouth wide
and he felt her lips sliding down the length of him as far as she could manage.
Lucien shut his eyes and pictured her derrière. He decided some rearranging was
in order. He reached down and after some tugging was able to get Mirabelle to
her feet.

            "I wasn't finished!" She pouted.

            "You can continue. I thought I'd make us
more comfortable and join you." She was intrigued and let him lead her to
the bed.

            Lucien lay diagonal across the bed on his back. He
reclined on his elbow and signaled for her to join him. Mirabelle crawled on
her hands and knees towards him and his cock throbbed painfully. She stopped at
his hips and looked at him, awaiting his guidance.

            "Straddle my waist as if you're going to
ride me but face the other way." Lucien's voice was hard and deep. Her
eyes widened and lit up when she realized what he was suggesting. Mirabelle
swung her leg over him and giggled as she scooted her backside up his body. The
sight of her perfect bottom wiggling back and forth as it came towards his face
made his cock jump. A moment later, Lucien felt her hands close around him and
she began to stroke. He hooked his arms behind her thighs and swiftly jerked,
pulling them over his shoulders. Mirabelle shrieked in surprise and he inhaled
deeply as he buried his face in the warm heaven between her legs. She moaned
rapturously as he felt her mouth close around him. What proceeded was a
friendly competition to see who could make the other person louder. Lucien won
but not by very much.

Chapter 26

“Good afternoon, Joss.” Alastair
handed his hat and cane to the butler as he was let into Clerendon House. “Is
His Grace in the study?” The butler’s face reddened and he cleared his throat.

            “His Grace is in his study but I'm afraid he is having
a private… conversation with Her Grace.”

Alastair raised a brow and was
about to ask for an explanation when he heard a crash from within the study. He
tensed and began to rush towards the room when he heard his sister scream
Lucien’s name. His instinct was to kill the man and his hand was within reach
of the door when he heard Mirabelle yell “Now! Yes!” and shriek. Alastair
stepped back from the door, stunned. He turned and stared at Joss.

“As I said, His Grace is in the
middle of something, I imagine. Would you like to wait in the Library, sir?”
The butler gestured towards the room farther down the hall. Alastair nodded and
followed, trying to unhear the events in the study. Once he was seated in the
library Joss offered to bring tea.
Would they be that much longer?
He
wondered. He hoped not. This wasn't a social call; he had urgent business with
Lucien. He declined the tea and Joss left.

Mirabelle spent a lot of time in
the library. Alastair could see her presence in the room. She had a terrible
habit of leaving books in piles on tables and the floor. She turned the corners
of pages down. When he was young, Alastair would place bookmarks in her books
and unfold them. It used to irritate him to no end. Now, it made him miss her.
A pair of her slippers peeked from under the lounge opposite him and a blanket
rested on the arm where one hadn't been before. He could only imagine Joss’
frustration. It wasn't like the old man to allow anything to be out of place.
While the library wasn't in disarray, it wasn't up to the butler’s exacting
standards. But Mirabelle had her habits. She liked to drift from book to book
through the day and read certain books in certain places; she liked them to be
where she left them. She was always leaving her slippers and shawls around the
house as well.

Alastair was comforted with the
knowledge that Clerendon House had become her home, that she had settled in
peacefully. Well, not completely peacefully, if the ruckus in the study was any
indication. Choosing to focus on the fact that Lucien and Mirabelle were both
happy and compatible, he put aside the awareness that his best friend was doing
unspeakable things to his sister. Alastair stood and began pacing. He couldn't
wait much longer.

Fortunately, Lucien strode into the
library a moment later. He looked relatively presentable. His clothes were slightly
rumpled, his skin was flushed, his lips were swollen and his expression was
overly relaxed. Alastair could smell Mirabelle's perfume on him as well as the
unmistakable scent of sex. He felt a brief flare of hostility and his jaw
twitched. As soon as Lucien smiled in welcome, it receded.

“Sorry. We weren't expecting you.
Mirabelle ran upstairs to change; she'll be back down shortly.” He went to the
sideboard but Alastair stopped him.

“There's no time for that. I was
about to leave without you.” Alastair looked towards the door. “One of my men
was going through Whitrose's accounts and discovered another warehouse. I've
got runners watching it and waiting for me before they go in. I assumed you'd
want to be with me. I have a carriage out front, we need to go now.” He didn't
wait for Lucien’s reply and was already in the hall.

“Of course!” Lucien was a step
behind him. Joss was hurrying for the door, collecting hats, coats and canes.
“Joss, tell Her Grace that it was extremely urgent and that I'll be back as
soon as possible. She isn't to wait on me; I don't know how long I'll be.”

“Yes, Your Grace.” Joss responded
as he opened the door.

Once in the carriage and rolling
towards the docks, Alastair filled Lucien in on what his man had discovered.

“We thought we'd had all of his
nests uncovered but this last one may be his most valuable. He was careful to
cover his tracks but my detective is incredible with deeds and accounts. It
appears that Whitrose was a key player in a white slavery ring. This warehouse
appears to have been a holding area for women until they could be moved to
ships for transport.” Alastair pulled a piece of paper from inside his coat.
Lucien’s repulsion was visible as he handed the sheet to him. “As you can see,
the holding company is called White Rose. Not a sensible move on his part. I
assume he meant it not only in reference to his name but the product he was
importing. I can't be sure if it was sheer hubris or total stupidity. I'm
beginning to think he had some very powerful people in his pocket.”

“And you've had nothing in regards
to the body in the warehouse fire?” Lucien asked as he passed the paper back to
Alastair.

“No. Everyone is assuming it's him.
Sources in the area say that he had been hiding there for approximately two
weeks.” Alastair took out his watch, they should be close and the runners
should still be waiting.

“None of my investigators have
turned up anything either. I'll keep them looking. I don't like it, it seems
too easy.” Lucien looked out the window. Alastair knew he was becoming tense as
they got further from Mayfair. While he never enjoyed heading into the darker
areas of London, Alastair was not as affected as Lucien and his brother. Both
were staunch defenders of those they considered weak and helpless. Gilles was
quick to right a wrong by jumping into a fight and bending others to his will.
Lucien’s obsessions were justice and reform. Knowing a man like Whitrose was
using his power to exploit the poor and working classes offended him deeply.
Alastair never knew how Lucien would react when they ventured into the slums,
stews and docks. While he wasn't indifferent, he wasn't driven to save every
soul he met as Lucien was. Providing small, temporary solutions wasn't going to
change the grand scheme of things.

The carriage rocked to a halt.
Alastair stepped out and determined that they were a short distance from the
warehouse. He gestured for Lucien to follow and they made their way carefully,
trying to avoid drawing unnecessary attention. Alastair saw Inspector Digby and
approached him.

“Has anyone gone in or out?” He
asked as he scanned the front of the building for any information he could
obtain. All of the windows were filthy; no one had wiped them from either side
to see in or out. Debris was piled against the doors; they hadn't been opened
in a long time. He made his way around to see the next side as Lucien and Digby
followed.

“No, sir! Thing’s been like a tomb
all afternoon. None of the people we've questioned saw anyone coming or going
for months.” Digby whispered as they hurried around the building to examine the
third side.

Alastair saw it. A door had been
opened, trash had been pushed aside just enough to allow a body to squeeze
through.

“There.” He pointed and Digby
signaled to his men. Alastair nodded to Lucien and crossed the street, his hands
pushed into his pockets and he tried to look as if he was supposed to be
milling around the docks. Once he reached the far side of the building he
dashed against it, the door was just around the corner. He looked along the
wall behind him and saw no signs of disturbance. There was only one door in
use. He felt Lucien’s shoulder against his as Digby scurried in place next to
them. “We’re unarmed. Send your men in first. We’ll give them a few minutes.
They know not to disturb anything?” Digby nodded. “Good. Let's go, then.”

With that, Digby waved and pointed
at the door and a dozen runners leapt from various hiding places and ran
towards the door. Digby saluted Alastair and Lucien and followed them in.
Alastair listened carefully for the sound of an altercation but it remained
silent. He took out his watch and waited two minutes. Once the time had passed
he replaced it and nodded to Lucien. Both stepped away from the wall and
slipped around the corner and through the door.

The air was heavy with dust and
Alastair detected the putrid smell of a corpse. There was enough light to make
out crates and the swiftly moving figures of the runners as they looked for any
living inhabitants. Lucien was following the smell. Alastair stayed close to
him as he catalogued the detritus around them. They were near a corner where
the crates had been piled the highest when they heard a tiny voice.

“Help us!” It cried. Lucien rushed
between the crates. Alastair swore as he dashed after him. The runners hadn't
been back there yet and neither had a weapon. Once his eyes adjusted to the
light, Alastair saw a small girl lying next to the decaying body of a woman.
Lucien squatted next to the child. He'd brushed the hair from her face and was
whispering to her.

“Alastair! She needs food and
water, fast!” He urged. Loath to leave him alone, Alastair stepped out of the
corner and called to the first runner he spotted.

“Two blocks west, there's a tavern,
get some food. Hurry!” He yelled. As the man ran for the door, he grabbed
another. “Water. Find water as fast as you can.” He pushed the man towards the
door as Digby ran towards him.

“What is it?” He asked. Alastair
pulled him away from the crate shelter.

“A woman is dead and there's a
small girl with her that I assume is her daughter. She appears to be
approximately three years of age but if I account for malnutrition and the
other general effects of poverty, she may be as much as five. She doesn't
appear to have had any food or water for days. I haven't had a chance to look
at the body for more than a moment but I would guess that the woman has been
dead for four days, so the child hasn't eaten in at least that long. Probably
longer. I believe her death is imminent but Clerendon will want us to do all we
can to save her. I've sent for food and water.” Digby’s mouth hung open as he
processed all that Alastair had said. After a moment he nodded and slipped
between the crates. Alastair followed.

Lucien cradled the little girl in
his arms and was whispering to her. She was limp and almost unresponsive.

“We’ll have something for you soon
poppet. If you're a good girl and eat and drink, I'll take you to a sweet shop
and buy you anything you want. Won't that be lovely?” He crooned.

“Mummy made me promise to never
leave her unless I was with Ms. Willet.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

“Your mummy is with the angels now,
sweet. You’ll have to come with us.” He looked at Alastair and his eyes were
shattered, full of unshed tears.

“Going with mummy.” She sighed.
Lucien pulled her to him and made shushing sounds.

“She wouldn't want that, poppet.
She would want you to play and grow up to be beautiful and strong.” He begged.
Alastair sensed that the girl was fading. He squatted next to Lucien and
touched her face. It was cold. She looked at him though unfocused and nearly
shuttered eyes.

“Why did mummy bring you here,
little angel?” He made his voice gentle and warm like Lucien's.

“To see the man about Aunty Jane.
They had a fight and I hid ‘til he was gone and mummy wouldn't wake up.” She
drew in a weak and ragged breath. Alastair knew that if she hadn’t been
severely dehydrated and starved she would have cried. Lucien’s eyes were hard
as he stared at Alastair. He believed the man was Whitrose. He looked back down
at the girl and his expression softened.

“What's your name, poppet?” He
whispered.

“Charlotte. Like gran.” She smiled
weakly. “I'll see her soon too.”

“Not yet, alright? They're not
ready to see you yet.” Lucien began rocking her as he looked around. Just then,
one of the runners slid in with a bucket of water. He dropped to his knees and
produced a spoon. Lucien took it and held it to her lips. She pressed her face
to his chest. “Please! You have to drink this!” He tried tilting her back so he
could angle the spoon towards her mouth and her head flopped back. “No! Wake
up!” He dropped the spoon and patted her cheek. She didn't respond. He shook
her gently. Nothing.

Alastair felt her neck for a pulse.
There was none.

“Lucien.” He said softly. Lucien
looked at him, his eyes were wide and his lips trembled. “She's gone.” Alastair
placed her hand on her chest. Lucien shook his head and tears spilled from his
eyes. He lifted the girl from Lucien and placed her next to her mother. He
turned to Lucien; he was sitting against the wall, his knees up and his head in
his hands. Deciding to give him a moment alone, he gestured for Digby to follow
him through the crates.

“Did you find anything else?” He
gestured around the warehouse.

“It hasn't been used for months,
there's a lot of trash but no items of value or documents. This corner seems to
be a makeshift room; someone lived here for a few weeks.” Digby said. Alastair
nodded. He'd made the same assessment. Someone hid there until the woman was
killed. There was nothing to suggest who that person had been. Lucien emerged
and walked out the door. Alastair thanked Digby and asked him to look into the
details the girl had given them.

Once outside, Lucien walked back to
the carriage. Alastair followed, giving him a few paces. When they were inside
and moving, he looked at Lucien. His face was hard, he was furious.

“We don't know who was in that warehouse
or who that woman was looking for.” Alastair offered. Lucien looked at him for
several moments. He shook his head furiously.

“I'm sick of not knowing!” He
punched the side of the carriage. “If it was Whitrose, we don't know who the
first body in the warehouse was. It also means that he killed that poor girl’s
mother and probably sold or killed the woman’s sister. And as far as I'm
concerned, he killed that girl too.”

“If it wasn't Whitrose, then I
don't care who died in that fire. If it was, then it could have been anyone
living in the warehouse and completely unrelated to the case we’re trying to
solve now. As would be the woman, her sister and the girl. Digby will look into
the Willet woman, and find any information he can on a woman with a mother and
child named Charlotte and a sister named Jane.”