Wicked Deception (6 page)

The thought of marrying anyone but
Catherine made him refill his brandy glass. No, he wouldn’t
remarry. What was the point? Did he want to go through that again?
No, a thousand times no!

He’d recently met a promising new
actress named Angeline Weston. The gorgeous platinum blonde beauty
was the crème of the theatre. He had dinner with her after one of
her plays recently. She was amusing and willing but he resisted
making her his mistress.

He had only one mistress in his heart;
one woman he wanted above any other. She could never be his. The
torment of it proved humbling these last months. After Lillianne’s
trial he’d thought to put the whole matter behind him. The matter
showed up on his doorstep each day to remind him.

Catherine didn’t feel the same. She
loved her husband. It was wrong for him to continue to feel this
way. She offered nothing but friendship to him now. They were never
alone together as a rule. She brought a servant with her every time
she came to Iverleigh Manor to see Giles.

He knew she did it for Nicholas, to
assuage his jealousy. Gabriel had to let her go and free himself
from this maddening triangle once and for all.

He was determined to resolve these
issues with Lord Rudd quickly for that reason. He knew much about
the man and knew it would be highly difficult to discredit him in
the eyes of society. He was far too wealthy and
powerful.

All deferred to the Duke. Even the king
was said to seek Francis Wingate’s council. The Duke had a great
many allies in his front pocket and many more in his back. Nicholas
already confronted the Duke with his crimes. Gabriel questioned
whether Rudd would seek to silence him too.

His face paled when he recalled his
conversations with Seaton long ago, after Thomas Sullivan stole the
contents of Clarice’s safe. Seaton died mysteriously, not long ago.
A robbery they said, yet what was he doing alone on the street?
Seaton was too much of a coward to have walked along the Thames the
night he was set upon. His eyes darkened with anger.

They all believed him to be
blackmailing them when they discovered Clarice left him the brothel
in her will. Did they still? His eyes narrowed as he thought on it.
It was possible Rudd may see him as a threat now as Seaton and
Dartmouth had.

He cursed when he pulled the list out
of his pocket. Farwell, Billingsley and Weldon were all powerful
lords. Nicholas’s monsters were all untouchable within society. He
knew it would be far more difficult to bring these men down than
his former wife. Nicholas wanted his vengeance. A warning voice
within him told him to leave it alone. He wanted them to pay for
what they’d done to his friend. The price may mean all their
lives.

The enormity of it made him sit back
and assess the situation. They hadn’t a prayer in touching any of
these men in court. Even with his help, Nicholas couldn’t possibly
destroy them that way. Everything in him told him to walk away from
it now. He thought of the way Nicholas screamed in his sleep,
listened to his begging and pleading for it to stop, never knowing
what he meant by it all until now.

He wished he’d never known what his
friend was seeing in his sleep at those moments. After going into
the cellar at the brothel and finding the children there; he
couldn’t ignore it now. He closed his eyes and bent his head into
his hands and dropped the list on his desk, his face composed in
dread.

~ ~ ~

Catherine’s son was born late one
night. Nicholas was pacing the study in front of the Dunleavy’s
steward, holding a whiskey glass Brian kept refilled as the night
wore on. Brian was smiling broadly as he watched Catherine’s
husband wear out the Persian under his boots. He’d been reluctant
to admit he liked the man. He’d been outraged to see Lady Catherine
arrive alone and heavy with child weeks before, her husband
suspiciously not in attendance.

Whatever occurred, the couple worked
the matter out. He could not argue the love between the pair.
Nicholas doted upon Lady Catherine, much like his previous employer
had his wife. Her dainty beauty and his towering strength
complimented the other so strikingly; he found them much made for
each other. Nicholas could hold his drink as well, he noted with a
satisfied grin, seeing his stash dwindle in the hours they waited
for word.

“
Have you and Lady Catherine
picked out a name yet, Captain?”Brian asked, uncorking another
bottle and pouring himself a glass.

“
Please, Brian, just call me
Nick, will you?” he asked as he drank down the heathenish Irish
brew, his blue eyes amused as they met his. “I haven’t thought of
any, but if I had, my wife would have the last word.”

Brian grinned as Catherine’s husband
acknowledged his wife’s authority without a trace of resentment,
much like Lord James had with his Countess. He smiled as he saw
this, thinking Catherine found the perfect mate.

“
I might suggest one then. I
know she had a fondness for Lord James’ younger brother, her Uncle
Aidan,” Brian remarked and nodded, accepted a cheroot from the sea
captain, glad the man didn’t have grand airs like Lord Iverleigh.
“Sad though, he disappeared years ago, never seen him
since.”

“
What happened to
him?”Nicholas asked and was relieved the man refilled his glass.
His nerves were frazzled having been woken to Catherine’s cries
hours ago. He was grateful for the distraction as the steward kept
him occupied with his talk of her uncle.

“
He was a trifle wild,
Captain; I mean Nick. Lord James was always bossing him around,
telling him what to do, declared he was going to a university. One
day he just packed it all up and left here. A lot of sad lassies
saw him go. He was as devil-may-care as you can
imagine.”

“
Never heard from again, you
say?” Nicholas mused and chuckled, admiring a man who could leave
such wealth as this to strike out on his own.

“
Oh, we heard from him,
letters and such, but Lord James never got over it,” Brian mused
and laughed. “He went to America and followed the other brother,
Lord Devlin. Lord James was fit to be tied both his brothers left.
Aidan’s doing right well for himself. Last I heard he lives in New
York there. Given Thornton’s death and that snake Sullivan’s
dealings, it’s doubtful either of them learned their older brother
is dead. Lady Catherine’s been through so much, I doubt she ever
got around to writing to them of it. Damn shame they couldn’t have
all made up before he died.”

Nicholas nodded, thinking the same. He
would have to get the addresses for his wife, thinking Catherine’s
Uncles should know their older brother was dead. The children
needed their Uncles back in their life. Thinking of the boys made
him grin, knowing they ran wild in his household.

Jaime was the most defiant at twelve.
He was determined to shun his title and become a sailor like him
and his older brothers. Cullen drove them all into fits still with
his outrageous pranks.

He allowed Jaime his dreams, but he was
a lord, whether he liked it or not. Their Uncle Devlin was the
children’s rightful guardian. He knew he only pushed at this
thought to pry Gabriel’s hold free of his wife. He thought of
writing to the men himself.

Any Irishman in his own mind wouldn’t
want an English peer raising his nephews. He had other motives and
he knew it. Despite Gabriel’s continued loyalty to him; he was
worried to lose his wife. He told himself he was wrong to be so
insecure with Catherine’s love showered upon him. Thinking of the
unfair means he had used to steal her away from Gabriel long ago
convinced him he would lose her back to him one day.

He worried of it in the darkest depths
of his soul. She never admitted it aloud, but he knew something was
regained in her memory. He felt it now, railed against it, but it
was there. She could never hide her feelings from him. He knew
better than to ask, decided he didn’t want to know anymore. His
wife loved him, of that he was sure. Whether he deserved it or not
no longer mattered.

~ ~ ~

Catherine looked down at the reddened
face of her son with joy in her eyes as the midwife tended to her,
her pain forgotten as she looked down at him. She smiled as she
counted his fingers and then his toes, marveling at his dark head
against her breast, already showing it would one day be as dark as
hers.

Nicholas accepted his son from the
midwife. A smile of pure pride radiated as he looked down at his
second son. His eyes were glistening with a look every father has
when given a son, with no offense to their daughters. It was a
moment Nicholas would never forget as long as he lived. His legs
were a bit wobbly as he slid into a seat beside his wife’s bed,
seeing her smile with such obvious joy as well.

“
What do you say we name him
after your other uncle? This Aidan I heard so much about?” Nicholas
suggested. It was a quiet moment as she leaned back to watch her
husband speaking to the infant, informing him he was going to be a
great sailor one day. He slipped away to let her sleep.

She smiled and yawned, watching him
weave their son’s destiny like any father did when he held his son
the first time. Nicholas was no exception. Her husband had made him
the greatest sailor of all time before her lids fluttered shut and
she slept.

~ ~ ~

Lilly grumbled as she sat at her
dressing table, glaring in the mirror’s reflection at Lord
Dartmouth sleeping in her bed. She loathed the man, finding his
animal rutting tiresome and repetitious. The Countess thought of
her previous lovers and closed her eyes while Dartmouth did his
nasty bit of business. She tired of hiding away at his country
estate.

She applied powders to cover the
bruising at her throat, felt nauseated by her benefactor’s penchant
for choking her as he reached his climax. Each time she saw its
marks upon her, she was displeased to see her perfect ivory skin
marred. She gazed at Annabelle Hart, who lay lifeless upon the
floor next to the bed.

A pity she had to take the brunt of
Dartmouth’s lust. His mistress became quite nosy after Lilly’s
protector broke her out of prison. The woman made the mistake of
following him here. Dartmouth gave her what he reserved for
prostitutes or women he snatched from the streets.

Lilly looked on in boredom, only
wincing to hear Mrs. Hart’s bones crack. Annabelle soon lay still
under his pugilistic fury, battered and bloodied. He then shoved
Annabelle’s lifeless form from the bed and beckoned to her, still
covered in the dead woman’s blood. She found the whole experience
rather nauseating, but who was she to question Dartmouth’s quirks
in bed?

Lord Farwell liked to be spanked like a
naughty child during lovemaking and wept like one while he came.
Though she found playing mother preferable to playing cemetery
undertaker, she had to wake him. They had the matter of Mrs. Hart’s
body to dispose of before it started to smell up his country
home.

She dressed carefully, wondering when
he would let her in on the plan to destroy her little twit of a
sister’s life. He refused to tell her, saying Lord Rudd was pulling
the strings. She allowed a delighted smile as she thought of the
man who sent her the note while she was in prison waiting to
die.

Her admirer had yet to reveal himself,
saying only she had his undying love. She hadn’t felt such
excitement since she was a girl chasing the Vicar around his church
back at Dunleavy. The sweet praise warmed her heart. She received
five such flowery, love-filled notes over the months since
Dartmouth rescued her from hanging.

She memorized the address before
Dartmouth arrived, knowing the danger should he discover she was
corresponding with the stranger. She wrote the man since her
arrival and gave him the post to the village near Dartmouth’s
country estate.

The man wrote such heated lines to her
she worked herself into a dither with her own hand while in her
bath. The verses helped when Nicholas’s image failed to help her
feign lust for Dartmouth. He was careful to rein in his violence
with her, as he did with all women of his class, saving it for the
women he bought from the streets.

She shivered as she looked at
Annabelle’s beaten corpse, her skull having been bashed in upon the
bed frame at the height of Dartmouth’s fervor. The gag stuffed into
her mouth muted her screams as he mauled her like an animal. The
man was delightfully depraved and she wished him on her little
sister with a feral look in her eyes.

Dartmouth promised he would do much the
same to Catherine and she could watch. For that alone she endured
his insidious presence in her bed. She wanted her ardent admirer
more as the months wore on, his glowing letters keeping her sane as
she dwelled here in the country.

She thought it rather adorable when her
servants brought her the notes to the prison while her trial wore
on. They were the only thing that got her through the ordeal.
Dartmouth would kill her if he knew. The excitement of it made it
all the more scintillating.

Lilly vowed she would seek the man out
after Lord Rudd’s plans were brought to fruition. She decided she
would kill Dartmouth when he finished with her sister. She had an
idea the only reason she was alive was because Rudd commanded it.
She shivered delicately, her blue eyes narrowing in contemplation
of why Rudd hesitated to make a move yet.