Wicked Deception (2 page)

“
You’re hired, boy,” Oran
announced as he deposited him onto the deck. The little boy looked
about for a place to hide; scurrying behind a rain barrel nearby.
“If you’re hungry follow me, lad. I’m too damned old to chase you,”
he called over his shoulder. “Let’s see what Tulley left us before
he hit the taverns, shall we?”

Nicholas smiled fondly as he remembered
how he fought the man in those days; disbelieving in any kindness
shown him. He was fed, clothed, and protected by the gruff seaman
those months he sailed with him.

Oran soon decided his new cabin boy
needed the stability of a home. Nicholas took to the life of a
sailor. He was often found dangling in the rigging like a monkey.
Oran thought it best Nicholas went to live with his other sons at
his home in Norway.

Nicholas argued it, wanting to be a
sailor like him. Oran refused and dragged him to the large estate;
arguing he needed to be educated first.

Once there, he was introduced to the
man’s five strapping sons. All older and bigger than him; they
glared at Nicholas as their father brought him into their home.
Oran’s wife died in childbed five years before bearing their only
daughter. The little girl lived only three days longer than her
mother. They were reared by servants now while their father was
away.

They all five took turns tormenting him
when Oran went back to sea. Soon Nicholas was tackling the oldest
named Thor to the floor; hitting him so hard he was left alone by
the rest. They soon grew to call him brother.

Oran adopted him and he remained at his
home. They never spoke of what happened to him until the night he
died. He was sixteen when Oran died that winter in Norway after a
long bought of illness.

Thor was now the head of the family
business at twenty-three; smuggling in earnest after the French
Revolution. Eric, the second oldest at twenty-one, was also manning
his own ship.

Thane was away at school then. When he
learned of his father’s illness, he came home from the university.
When his father died, he never returned and joined the family
business.

Dane took it the hardest and hid away
in his mother’s garret painting. His works lined the halls of the
Van Ryker estate, each so provoking it was a wonder he never
studied in Paris. Dane soon took up a ship with his brothers when
he ran out of walls to fill.

Gareth was the baby of the five
brothers and a year older than Nicholas. He was white-faced with
dread when he stepped out of his father’s room that night. All of
them were unable to conceive the man they worshiped was
dying.

Nicholas was the last to see him before
those wise pewter eyes closed forever. He listened to his father’s
last words, heard his sage advice, and wished he could do as he
asked.

Let it go,
Nicky
, Oran begged him then, his
fever-ravaged words falling on deaf ears. The old man sat up in
bed; seeing the demons reflected within his adopted son’s eyes and
fell back, sighing in dread. Nicholas never listened to the only
man he called Father. He was determined to make his fortune and
return to destroy the men who hurt him.

Nicholas tried to forget. Catherine’s
love made him believe he could put the past where it lived. He
cringed within his soul when the nightmares came back. No amount of
her love would cleanse it from him. It lived like a dark thing
within him, buried and waiting.

The thirst for vengeance grew
unquenchable after discovering the damning list. Thomas Sullivan’s
secret drawer opened up a Pandora’s Box revealing the names of
those he sought. He was looking for evidence to prove the imposter
and Lady Iverleigh were involved in a plot against his wife. He
didn’t expect to find the list.

The imposter who posed as Edward
Thornton thought to pick up where Clarice left off. He took to
blackmailing her rich and powerful clientele. All Thomas Sullivan
did was poke a stick at them until they circled the brothel. When
Yvetta, Clarice’s predecessor, went missing; Nicholas knew the
nobles were involved. When young Lord Seaton was found floating
face down in the Thames; he was sure of it.

The birth of his son Devlin brought him
joy and the nightmares from his youth. The discovery of the twisted
noblemen’s identities gave him new purpose. He followed them and
watched them, waiting to end their miserable lives.

The Duke of Rudd, Lord Francis Wingate,
carefully hid his penchant for boys from his peers. One of the
richest and most influential men in England; he didn’t fear
discovery. The man and his three cronies shared the same pastimes.
They thought themselves safe until Nicholas came forward with his
knowledge of the list. Now he bided his time to see what Rudd would
do.

Clarice Devereaux provided them their
entertainments for years, but grew weary of dumping dead children.
When inquiries from the authorities began the mount; the Madame
found a way to make it worth her time. They paid to keep her
silence.

In the end, her foul greed was her
downfall. They no longer wished to pay. Clarice died in her office
one night. They said her heart gave out. Nicholas suspected she’d
been poisoned, though he couldn’t be sure who did the deed. The
contents of her safe were gone, stolen by Thomas
Sullivan.

Sullivan looked for the diary he’d lost
one night while entertained by one of her women. He’d erred in
leaving his satchel unattended, letting it fall into Clarice’s
hands. Then she blackmailed Lilly with its secrets. The Countess of
Iverleigh was determined to get the diary back by any
means.

Neither of them could have known what
hell they unleashed when Sullivan took the list. The names on the
list were old and powerful ones. They didn’t want their secrets
known. Had Sullivan not been shot by another; he was on borrowed
time the moment he took it.

Twenty years hadn’t changed much.
Clarice Devereaux was older and harder than granite. She never
recognized him as the boy he once was when he came back. He was
there to enjoy her women then, but he had another motive too. She
never saw the contempt in his gaze as he looked about her
establishment. She never suspected he’d been the one to sneak to
her cellars and let the children out of the cages.

Those acts satisfied his need to do
something about the evil he knew existed there. He was to find it
wasn’t enough. He knew he should put it all behind him. The demons
from those days would destroy him. The thought of Lord Rudd and the
others harming another child fuelled his renewed hatred. He
wouldn’t stop until the four men were dead. Then, he hoped for the
nightmares to end.

The key grated in the lock. Catherine
sat up from dozing in the chair, sighing in annoyance as she
struggled to get up. She was very pregnant and not in the best of
moods. She was irritated at her clumsiness in these last
weeks.

It was late. He was out all night
again. The continued fear he strayed from their marriage dogged her
steps when she heard the front door open. She gazed up at the
mantle clock with a glare. Three o’clock in the morning! He’d
better not use the lame excuse he couldn’t sleep again to explain
his absence from their bed.

Her green eyes flared as she went into
the foyer, surprising him as he quietly snapped the door shut
behind him. He stared at her; his handsome face devoid of emotion.
She walked near, dreading to smell a whore’s perfume upon
him.

She looked up at him and he flinched
from the hurt he saw in her face. The lovely planes were taut with
anger and worry. How different things were now? The last six months
their marriage had taken a drastic turn; his nighttime activities
the source of many heated exchange. A house that once rang with
laughter and love now stung with bitter words muffled behind closed
doors.

“
Where have you been?” she
demanded quietly as her blood began to boil. “And do not lie to me
again, Nicholas! I’m not a fool! You disappear from our bed every
night and come home at these ungodly hours! At least have the
decency not to lie about it. You’ve found another woman; it’s
obvious enough to me!”

Nicholas glared down at his tiny,
very-pregnant wife. He stepped away and would have passed her. She
grabbed his coat sleeve and stayed him.

“
No you don’t! Don’t you
walk away from me! You will tell me the truth or you can turn
around and leave. I won’t have it!” she cried, eyes filling with
tears of rage. Seeing his hesitation; she took it for guilt. She
stepped back, her hand covering her quivering mouth. Nicholas
reached for her but she flung his hand away. “No! Don’t touch me!
So much for you loving me forever; you rotten, lying bastard!” she
cried bitterly and backed away from him. He watched her cry and
said nothing.

“
I know you’ll believe what
you will, Catherine. It’s far from what you’re thinking,” he told
her wearily, voice tight with anger as she continued to sob. “I
haven’t been with another goddamn woman! I want no other!” He
reached out to snatch her to him. “I can’t tell you where I go, so
don’t ask it. You must trust me on this.”

“
I’m your wife,” she snapped
back, glaring up at him with her hands on her hips. “If you can’t
tell me what’s going on after everything that’s happened to us;
then you don’t love me at all.”

“
It doesn’t concern you,
Catherine,” he flung back, blue eyes filled with resentment. “Go to
bed and leave me be. I won’t be set upon by you with your damned
accusations anymore. If you wish to believe me with another; than
do so. I weary of your nagging. I remind you; I’m not the one who
goes to see their old lover every day, so cease with your constant
needling of me!” he shouted and set her away from him.

Catherine blinked in hurt. She gazed up
at the man she loved more than life in desolation and fled the
foyer. Tears blinded her as she made her way to their
room.

~ ~ ~

Nicholas watched her and didn’t follow
as she took the stairs as fast as her condition allowed. He cursed
as he heard their door slam to the bedroom above, knowing it would
be locked to him this night. He set aside his cloak and cursed
again under his breath and went to his study, pouring a brandy and
flung himself into a chair. He lit the lamps and a cheroot, shaking
in frustrated rage. He raked a hand through his unruly ebony mane,
eyes narrowed.

The scene replayed itself often. He
knew the damage he did to his marriage. It was starting to show.
Catherine thought him unfaithful. She was insecure in the advanced
stage of her pregnancy. She thought him too weak to wait until
after the child was born. He could see her torment and knew her
pain.

He closed his eyes in sorrow. Six
months passed since Lilly was put to death for her crimes against
his wife; a reminder of everything they fought for then. He was
letting it slip away now with his need for vengeance.

The Countess of Iverleigh was dead;
hung for her many crimes and misdeeds. They should be happy,
awaiting the birth of their third child, not squabbling daily as
they often did. He knew unless he finished this business with Lord
Rudd and the others, there would be no coming back to what they
had.

Catherine no longer trusted him. It was
obvious. He could see it in her eyes. Who could blame her? Every
night he was out hunting the men who tortured him as a child;
looking for them in places he knew only from his nightmares. Each
night he came home to see the love dwindling in her gaze when he
refused to tell her the truth.

Nicholas was reminded each day what he
had to lose when she went to see her son at Lord Iverleigh’s
residence. He knew Gabriel still loved her. A part of her would
always love him too.

They didn’t speak of it; pretended it
wasn’t there. With trouble in his marriage, it was the last place
he wanted his wife. He knew Gabriel well. If Catherine gave him the
least sign; he would take her from him forever.

What he did now was madness. He risked
the woman he loved to punish these men from his past. Every day
brought him closer to killing them and closer to losing
her.

He tossed back the brandy and poured
another, too depressed to do anything than drink away his pain. He
longed for Tieghan’s sage wisdom, knowing the giant would tell him
what to do. His old friend had his own troubles. He searched for
Elise Sinclair with little luck these last six months.

Trouble greeted his brothers when they
went way home the year before; their wives to be exact. Honest to
their own detriment; the brothers confessed their activities while
here to Claire and Natalia. He delayed answering all the letters
that came from his family members now. He glowered at the letter
from Thor.

It thanked him in a sarcastic tone for
all he’d done to keep Eric and Dane out of mischief while they
stayed in London. The pair was feuding with their wives the year
before and sought sanctuary at Clarice’s brothel.

Then there was the letter from Natalia;
Eric’s estranged wife. She was threatening to kill his brother
before she came looking for him. Claire, Dane’s wife, wrote that
her husband was never visiting him again. Gwynn wrote one word in
the middle of the page; one he dare not repeat. Right down the
line; he was harassed by them all.