Wicked Seduction (3 page)

“You know,” she said, keeping her voice light, “I would think that such a punishing victory over the earl would make one quite thirsty. Would you care for some tea?”

She had meant to appeal to his male pride by emphasizing that he had just won his battle, but it was her last word that threw him. The boy blinked and his mouth lost some of its fury.

“Tea?” he said.

“Yes, tea,” agreed the man. He clearly wasn’t winded by his efforts, and so the words came out as courtly as if he had just rode in from Hyde Park. “Tea would be capital. Don’t you think so, Alex?”

Maddy didn’t wait for an answer. “Lovely!” she cried as she reached behind her for Rose’s cup. It was the only one at hand, as Maddy had finished hers. “Here. You’ll have to tell me if it is how you like it.”

She extended the cup toward the boy, but he was still straddling the earl, who was busy moaning and bleeding and thankfully not further inciting the man. His wife, Lily, was not so intelligent. She huffed and stepped forward, ready to snatch the teacup away.

“Of all the ridiculous—”

“My lady!” the butler cried, obviously smart enough to grab his mistress and haul her backward. “Perhaps it would be best to allow Miss Wilson and Master Kit a moment to manage the boy.”

“The boy needs to be taken out back and whipped!”

The man—presumably Master Kit—glared at the countess, his hackles rising. Maddy knew it wasn’t appropriate to think of a man having hackles, but that was exactly what he looked like. A dog shifting his shoulders before an attack.

“Tea is most soothing, don’t you think?” she inserted desperately. “Just the thing after heavy exertion.” Then with a sudden lack of sense, she did the one thing she’d been told never, ever to do: get between men as they are pummeling one other. She stepped over the bags and wedged herself between the wall and the large pirate’s knee. If he lost control of the younger one, then she would have nowhere to go. Thankfully, one glance at the man’s eyes reassured her all the way down to her toes. His eyes were steady, his gaze clear. And with a slight nod, he told her that she was not in any danger.

She couldn’t know that, of course. It was irrational to trust either pirate in this situation, but she did. So she smiled her thanks and returned her attention to the boy. “There,” she continued as if her heart weren’t beating right in her throat. “I have managed to not spill the tea, which is a minor miracle. Please do try it.”

She extended the cup and saucer to the boy. And when he still did not move, she actually bent down and brushed his right fist with her hand. As if by magic, his fingers jerked opened and she was able to set the cup and saucer in his palm. Then she turned her attention to his other fist, which was wrapped tightly around the earl’s cravat.

“Oh dear,” she said, making sure to keep her tone light. “It appears you have gotten some blood on your hand.” She pulled a white linen handkerchief from her skirt and held it out to him. “May I clean it off for you? My father was a doctor, so I am quite capable with wounds. Gentle too, even if I do say so myself.”

She held out her hand for his and waited with everyone else as he just stared at her. Thankfully, it was time for the older one to play his part.

“I think tea would be most helpful,” he said. “I’m going to loosen my hold, Alex, so that you may take a drink. Be polite now. Don’t spill it on her dress.”

The boy blinked, reason obviously beginning to sink in. He only needed a bracing tone to complete the process.

“Sir,” she said, hoping she sounded just like his mother. “I must insist that you stop bleeding on the earl. It really isn’t done. Come, come, let go and give me your hand.”

Then the boy spoke, his voice rather high given that he was half strangled, but no less clear. “It’s not my blood,” he said.

The older pirate huffed in disgust. “My leg is beginning to ache, Alex. So release my cousin and drink some of the damned tea.” And with that, he slowly, steadily relaxed his grip. He moved gently, but Maddy could see the control he exerted. At the first sign of madness, he would be there to haul the boy back.

Alex didn’t move. He did, however, take a deep breath and open his fist. The earl’s head dropped back to the ground with a
thunk
.

“That’s it, boy,” said the older pirate. Then he tried to straighten but flinched at the movement. “Jesus, that hurts.”

Maddy risked a glance in the man’s direction, noting for the first time the lines of pain etched into his handsome face. She recalled now that he had limped when he first entered the room. It hadn’t seemed to slow his efforts to capture the boy, but obviously the strain was beginning to tell.

“Would you, um, like a cup of tea as well?” It was a silly thing to offer, but it was the only thing she could think of right then. And then the most incredible thing happened.

His eyes warmed, his lips softened, and she thought,
He is the most incredible man in the world.
He was standing there, in obvious pain, his arms wrapped around a feral boy, and yet he had the presence of mind to smile at her. In that one moment, she saw kindness, warmth, and something that she could not name. Nobility, perhaps. Or simply a man who matched her ease with the absurd. He had no trouble at all speaking of tea while holding off a child intent on murder.

“I’d rather prefer grog right now,” he said, “but I doubt you have any at hand.”

“I haven’t the tea either,” she quipped, “but that didn’t stop me from offering it, now did it?”

Then the countess chose that moment to assert herself. Really, the woman had the worst timing. “Grog, tea, good God, Miss Wilson. Tell him to get off Michael!”

Fortunately, the butler was there to soothe his mistress. “In a moment, my lady.” Then he snapped his fingers. “Simpson, go fetch the doctor, quick as you can.”

“And the guard,” inserted another matron.

Both pirates tensed, and Maddy was close enough to see the older one’s eyes darken. But the boy was the danger, so she simply leaned forward and touched his hand.

“Is it too cold?” she asked. “Should I get more?”

He blinked at her and she gestured to the teacup. She held his gaze, relieved beyond measure when he finally, slowly lifted the cup to his lips while the older man relaxed his hold. Everyone watched, though she doubted any but the man had the air of taut readiness. If Alex should go wild, he was there to restrain the boy.

Instead, the adolescent abruptly grimaced. “Sweet!” he gasped.

Oh yes, Maddy recalled too late. Rose liked her tea extra thick with sugar. Enough to make anyone’s teeth ache.

“Oh dear. I’m so sorry.” She held out her hands. “Shall I get you another?”

The child pulled back as if she were about to take away his favorite toy. “I like sweet,” he rasped. Then as if to prove his words, he downed the rest of the drink in one gulp. Then he set his cup down with a click. It was hard enough to break the fine porcelain, and Maddy instinctively winced. So did the man and the boy, for that matter, as all three of them looked worriedly at the cup. How absurd that they worried about a tea set while the earl was beginning to moan.

Fortunately, the china remained intact, and the boy passed it back to her with hands that shook. Maddy took it, her gaze steady on his face. She saw no trace of madness anymore. Even the image of a feral dog was gone. Instead, she saw a haunting pain in his eyes. And fear. Bone-deep fear as he looked from her to the earl then up to the man who was just now straightening to his full height in the tiny space.

“What should I do?” he asked, his voice low, panic trembling just beneath his words.

Mr. Frazier shrugged. “Not much to be done, Alex. Stand up, let the servants do their job, and deal with the rest as it comes.”

“But they’ve called the watch.” And just like that, Maddy saw sanity start to drain from his eyes. “I won’t be locked up again. I won’t!”

“That’s just what’s going to happen, young man,” screeched Lily. “Now
get off my husband!
”

“No!” bellowed the boy, and quick as a flash his fists were raised and he was on the move. In truth, Maddy couldn’t tell if he was attacking the countess or just trying to push past her to escape. But it didn’t matter. Before anyone could do more than gasp, Mr. Frazier intervened.

He grabbed the boy then wrapped an arm around his neck. Alex flailed, his eyes bulging and his legs thrashing, but his movements were uncoordinated with panic. Mr. Frazier grunted as blow after blow hit his legs and Alex’s nails dug into his arms, but he did not relax his grip. Maddy stared transfixed as he gritted his teeth when blood began to run down his forearms, but his eyes remained apologetic. Obviously, he didn’t want to do this, but there was no choice. And bit by bit, the boy’s struggles slowed. Alex’s eyes fluttered, then rolled back in his head. A moment later, Mr. Frazier was pulling him backward to lay him gently on the floor.

“Oh! That was simply masterful!” cried Rose from the side. In truth, Maddy had forgotten the other women in the room, but trust her cousin to remind everyone that they were still there. Indeed, Rose was clapping her hands in applause, clearly oblivious to the regret plain on Mr. Frazier’s face.

Meanwhile, Maddy knelt down beside the boy to feel for a pulse. Her eyes told her that he still breathed, but she had never seen someone squeezed to unconsciousness like that.

“He’s alive,” said Mr. Frazier, his voice thick. “Just asleep for a while.”

Maddy looked up and extended her handkerchief to him. Her other hand was pressed against Alex’s pulse, feeling it beat strong and steady beneath her fingertips. Meanwhile, Mr. Frazier simply stared uncomprehending at her already bloodstained scrap of linen.

“For your arms,” she said softly. “You’re bleeding.”

He blinked and looked down at himself. “So I am,” he said. He took her handkerchief, but it was far from useful. It only smeared the blood already drying across his tan skin.

“I’m sorry—” she began, but her words were cut off as she was roughly shoved aside by the countess as she scrambled for her husband. Maddy stumbled, caught completely off guard. She would have landed in an undignified heap if it weren’t for Mr. Frazier again. His hands were quick as they kept her from the floor, then he easily lifted her up, guiding her to stand safely protected between him and the wall.

Meanwhile, the countess was alternately snapping orders and dabbing ineffectively at the earl’s cut lip.

“Don’t move him,” Maddy warned. “His ribs are likely broken and . . .” Her voice trailed away. No one was listening to her as the footmen worked together to lift and carry the man to his bedchamber. Just as she feared, the earl cried out, turned white as a sheet as he grabbed the nearest footman’s ear, then sunk unconscious, much to everyone’s relief.

“It’s all right,” said Mr. Frazier at her gasp. “With luck, his ribs are cracked, not broken. Alex isn’t that strong, and Michael’s got a good deal of padding. But it’ll hurt like the very devil when he wakes.”

Maddy thought his words were for her alone, but apparently the countess had very sharp ears or perhaps simply a very big temper. He’d barely finished speaking when she abruptly rounded on him, her finger pointing straight at his heart.

“This is all your fault! How dare you come here and bring that . . . that animal into my home!”

“He’s a boy, Lily.
That
is what happens to boys who are taken by Barbary pirates.”

“I don’t care what happened to him! Get out of my house. Get out now!”

Mr. Frazier’s reaction was quiet. A simple flinch, barely noticeable by anyone at all. Except Maddy was right behind him, pressed against the wall. She felt the impact of the countess’s words in the way his breathing completely stopped and his body tightened almost unbearably. And then it was gone as he sketched a shallow bow.

“As you wish, Lily.”

Maddy doubted the countess heard. The woman had already stomped off after her husband while all around them, the ladies erupted into noise and movement. Like a gaggle of disturbed geese, she thought distractedly, her gaze going to Rose. But she couldn’t see her cousin as Mr. Frazier’s rather large shoulders blocked her view. And then when she was about to step around him, the butler abruptly appeared before them.

“Best go now, Master Kit,” the butler intoned. “The watch has been called. I couldn’t stop it. Have you a place to stay?”

Kit shook his head, his gaze dropping to the unconscious boy at his feet. “We just arrived. The ship is barely habitable, but—”

“Come with us,” Maddy inserted suddenly.

Butler and pirate both turned to her, their brows raised in surprise. She couldn’t blame them. It wasn’t at all the thing for an unmarried woman to be inviting pirates to her home. Especially as it wasn’t really her home but her uncle Frank’s. She was just the poor relation they housed. But there was no help for it now. The invitation had been issued, and Mr. Frazier was looking at her with a gratitude that seemed to warm the air between them.

“I’d be most grateful,” he said. “The boy needs to remember what it’s like to be in a home, not locked down on a ship. A real bed on dry land will ease his nightmares, but I haven’t any English coins as yet for an inn. I was hoping that Michael . . .” His voice trailed away on a sigh.

Put like that, she couldn’t possibly change her mind. “It’s settled then,” she said briskly, as she turned to the butler. “Would you summon our carriage please? And make sure to bring his bag.”

Then she took a deep breath, knowing there was one last thing for her to do, much as she regretted it. It was petty of her, of course, but she had enjoyed being the only woman holding Mr. Frazier’s attention. But sadly, her cousin would be traveling in the carriage with them, so she had to make the introduction. Her stunningly gorgeous and titled cousin. The one who had men falling at her feet like raindrops.

But she had to. So she touched his arm, forced a smile, then gestured to the side where Rose was bouncing on her toes beside them, clearly beyond anxious for this moment. “And please, allow me to introduce my cousin Rose.”

Chapter 2

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Kit said, barely looking at the beautiful blonde. He could tell from Owen’s frantic expression that time was slipping away fast. If they didn’t leave now, they might very well be spending the night in gaol. With that thought in mind, he bent down and hoisted Alex into his arms. Thank God the boy hadn’t grown into his adult weight, otherwise Kit’s leg would never support the task. As it was, he worried that he wouldn’t be able to walk the distance required.

“Oh my,” breathed the real beauty, the brown-haired angel with the pretty voice and the kind eyes. “Are you sure you should do that? We could probably fashion of liter of some sort.”

Kind and smart. She had correctly guessed his difficulty and made a suggestion without pointing out his damnable leg. But they didn’t have time, so he shook his head. “I’ll be fine,” he said as he began maneuvering his way toward the front door. Owen rushed ahead, pushing the gawkers out of the way. Meanwhile, the blonde chose that moment to hiss to her cousin.

“But we can’t take him home with us! He attacked the earl! The countess will give us the cut direct, and then neither of us will ever marry!”

Kit didn’t bother to look as the shrill noise cut through his thoughts. In an odd way, the sound was comforting. It had been nearly a decade since he’d heard a spoiled beauty in hysterics. It brought back his childhood and the vague urge to tease the woman out of her tantrum. But just then Alex began to stir and he had to focus on maneuvering quickly through Michael’s drawing room.

“Hush, Rose, of course that won’t happen,” returned the brown-eyed angel.

“You know Father will never allow this. You shouldn’t have invited them. It’s your country ways. They just don’t serve in London!”

Kit made it out the front door, but he didn’t know which carriage was theirs. So he paused, watching the women as they moved forward still whispering loudly between them.

“It will be fine, Rose. It’s very proper with your father there. And the countess will not cut us. We’re helping her husband’s cousin.”

“But he attacked the earl!”

The angel sighed, her expression clearly exasperated and a little guilty. It had been seven years since he’d last been in polite society, but he did recall that as a rule, unmarried women did not invite men home with them. A gentleman would find a way to stay at a hostelry. Fortunately, it had been a long time since he’d been a gentleman, so he could conveniently ignore the prompting of his conscience. He wanted to stay near the women—both of them—and that whim he could indulge. What he truly wanted with the angel, however, even he wouldn’t do. Meanwhile, a carriage pulled up, one with a crest on the side and a footman leaping to assist.

“Your carriage?” he asked, turning slightly toward the women.

“Yes, yes,” the angel rushed to say.

Meanwhile Alex was definitely stirring, and he murmured to the boy. “You’re safe. You’re fine. Just stay quiet a moment more and we’ll be away.”

“He’s not safe!” gasped the girl. “He’ll murder us all!”

“Rose!” the angel gasped, clearly at the end of her patience. “Just get in and be quiet.” She didn’t even wait as the beauty huffed dramatically and stomped into the carriage. Instead, she gestured to the footman. “Thomas! Do you think you could help us please? Perhaps support the boy’s head?”

The footman jumped to assist, and Kit gratefully surrendered some of the boy’s weight. “Help me lay him on the seat,” he said, and together he and the footman maneuvered around the gasping beauty to set the boy down. Then finally, blessedly, he was able to straighten his back and leg.

“Maddy!” squealed the girl inside. “He’s waking up!”

“Hush! Don’t startle him!” snapped the angel. “Sir, if you would step inside and comfort him. Perhaps help him sit up, then I could sit with Rose.”

“And we can be away,” he finished for her. Those words were spoken to the driver as much as to the lady. Both nodded their understanding as he ducked inside. Alex was indeed becoming alert, his eyes wide with panic as he pushed himself upright. But one look at Kit and his breath steadied out. “That’s it, boy. Just a moment more and we’ll be on our way. Mind, we’re in the presence of ladies, so be on your best behavior.”

The boy nodded, his gaze going to the blonde as he managed a tremulous smile. But it was the brown-haired angel who spoke as she entered the carriage. “I’m so glad you’re awake. My name is Miss Madeline Wilson, by the way. And this is my cousin, Lady Rose.”

A titled girl, then. And her poor relation, he guessed, given that the angel’s clothing was an obvious castoff from the blonde. The color and style were completely wrong for a statuesque brunette and more suited to the doll-like blonde. Add to that the slightly worn state of the crest on the carriage and the fading livery of the footman, and Kit formed a picture of his hostess’s family. An earldom, he guessed, well past their prime and probably struggling for every penny.

“A pleasure, of course.” Kit did his best to bow in the tight confines of the carriage. Then he gestured to his side. “I am Mr. Frazier as you already know, and this is Master Alexander Morgan, now much recovered from his recent bout of insanity. Right, Alex?”

Alex flushed, obviously embarrassed, but that didn’t stop him from staring at the blonde.

“You’re quite beautiful,” he said, obviously smitten.

“Oh, sir!” she simpered, clearly pleased.

Kit glanced at the angel, expecting to share a look of amused tolerance with her. Instead he found her expression sad more than amused, and resigned more than tolerant. Kit felt his eyebrows raise. Perhaps the angel was unaware of her own appeal and much too used to being passed over in favor of her rather young and obvious cousin. Meanwhile, the blonde was beginning to speak, making sure to punctuate her words with many bright smiles and coquettish looks at them both.

“It’s really quite exciting to have you both here with us, but you know, my cousin doesn’t always understand London ways. She’s from the country, you know, and not really wise to the ways of town. You understand, of course, that—”

“Actually, Rose, I was thinking that there must be some way for us to turn this to our advantage. After all, Mr. Frazier is the cousin to an earl. Surely you can think of something.” She glanced at the men. “Rose is very clever at this sort of thing.”

Kit smiled, not in the least bit fooled. Obviously the angel had some skill at manipulating her cousin. Far from being offended, he was rather entertained. He remembered the subtle fencing of words as one might remember a boyhood game.

Meanwhile, Rose was softening. “I suppose, but you know what Papa will say: One charity case is quite enough.”

Unfair! To throw that back at the angel, and in front of male company no less, was the mark of a cruel woman. And given the angel’s quiet acceptance of the slight, Kit knew that she was treated to such comments frequently. So he was roused to defend her, though he had to search through his memory for the most appropriate words.

“I am capable of paying,” he said softly. “And I would count myself in your debt. Indeed, the charity you extended to us demonstrates a true and good heart. I wonder that you are not buried in suitors. Is all of London blind?”

He spoke to the angel and was gratified to see her eyes widen in surprise. But naturally, the blonde took the words as her due. “Well, as to that, an earl’s daughter is not free to marry whomever asks, you know.” There was a wistfulness in her tone and an openness of emotion that caught Kit by surprise. She wasn’t truly cruel, he realized, just young and very spoiled, as was typical for an earl’s daughter. “As for payment, I’m sure you can discuss the details with my father.”

He nodded and was about to respond when he saw the angel’s eyes on Alex. Her expression was troubled.

“Miss Wilson?”

“I was thinking perhaps that we should call for a doctor.” She smiled gently at Alex, and Kit found himself feeling oddly jealous of the boy. “I know the blood was mostly the earl’s but perhaps, just to be safe—”

“No doctor is needed,” he interrupted, more harshly than intended. “Some simple food and rest on land would do us a world of good.”

“As you wish,” the angel said as she nodded slowly, her eyes lowered. She looked appropriately demure, but Kit could tell there was a wealth of thought behind her quiet facade.

“Miss Wilson,” he began, but again the blonde spoke and everyone had to wait in silence for her to finish.

“Was I to understand, Mr. Frazier, that you were captured by pirates? Barbary pirates? I thought that’s what the servant said, but I couldn’t be sure, you understand. Such a fantastical tale! And you escaped, no less! Oh please, you must tell us how you did it! And were you, Mr. Morgan, equally enslaved? My goodness, how horrible!”

“It was, Lady Rose. It was quite horrible,” he responded, his tone flat and discouraging. But the lady was not one to take such a hint.

“Of course it was!” she exclaimed. “But however did you escape? Was it very dangerous? We are going to a musicale tonight, perhaps you could join us? Oh, possibly not, not attired as you are. But perhaps tomorrow?” She babbled on with her questions. Thankfully, they arrived at their location long before he was obliged to answer any of them.

Maddy breathed a sigh of relief the moment she shut the door on the gentlemen. She had installed them in the housekeeper’s room. The bedroom was tiny, but the bed was large enough for two as it was designed for a husband and wife. Plus, there was a salon out front, one Maddy usually used to balance accounts and plan meals. This would afford them some privacy if they wished to remain apart from the rest of the family. That was safer for all around, for the family if the boy turned violent again, and for them as an escape from Rose’s incessant questions.

Mr. Frazier had handled them well enough. Unlike the boy, he was slow to anger and supremely tolerant. And yet something about him set her belly quivering and her chest tightening. Not quite in fear, and yet not in pleasure either. He was everything that was polite—soft spoken and direct with his words—and yet his eyes seemed to watch her, study her, and see much too clearly into her heart. It bothered her, and yet she was the one who insisted that he come home with them.

“What are they doing?” asked Rose from the door to the salon. She was surrounded by nearly their entire staff come to gape.

“Really,” Maddy snapped at the crowd. “I would think you all have better things to do right now. But if not, I’m sure I can find something for you.”

The threat worked wonders on everyone but Rose. While the family’s three servants disappeared in an instant, Rose simply tried to sidle past Maddy to the bedroom door.

“Are they sleeping? Don’t they want a bath or a valet or something? I really don’t think Father will like this, but if he can pay, then I suppose it would be all right. It is rather romantic though, don’t you think? Mr. Morgan collapsing and all after he saw my beauty. That’s what he said, remember? You are very beautiful.”

“Yes, of course I remember,” Maddy said as she took a firm grip on Rose’s elbow and steered her toward the hallway. “Though I don’t think he collapsed quite because of you, sweeting. I fear he’s suffered a great loss—”

“Yes, yes! And for the older one, imagine being captured by pirates and coming home to realize your fiancée has married another! Poor man! He probably doesn’t even know that his mother and grandmother are dead from that fever two years ago.”

Maddy froze, turning to frown at her cousin. “What do you mean? He said nothing of a fiancée.”

“Oh! Of course, you weren’t living with us then, and I wasn’t even out, but everyone heard the tale. The old one, Mr. Frazier was dead, and who should appear at the funeral but his fiancée, demanding a seat and acting just like one would expect from an actress. Clearly she was there just to find another gull because a month later she’s married to Lord Blackstone. Started increasing within the year.”

“Oh my. Poor man.” She glanced behind her at the closed bedroom door. He had said they needed to rest, but she suspected they wanted privacy more than anything. And food. She needed to send up a tray to them immediately. So she grabbed her cousin’s arm and led her down the hallway. “But what of the younger one?”

“Oh, I don’t think he’s related to anyone at all,” Rose answered dismissively. “But isn’t Mr. Frazier glorious? The way he handled everything!”

Maddy nodded, pleased that Rose now saw Mr. Frazier as a romantic hero rather than a social disaster. “Now help me decide what to say to your father. He’s due back from his club any moment now.”

“Oh,” said Rose airily with a wave, “just mention the money.” Maddy had managed to get them into the hall, but Rose abruptly stopped, her eyes going wide as she looked back into the salon. “Do you think he’s very rich? Gold and gems and the like? He doesn’t look rich, but he has just come back from God knows what hellish place.”

“Rose! You shouldn’t say such things!”

“What?” she said with a vague blink. “Hell? Or that he’s very rich?”

Maddy grimaced. “Both, and well you know it.”

“Of course I know it!” Rose giggled with an impish smile. “I just never thought to hear
you
criticize
my
language!”

Maddy smiled fondly at her young cousin, though the expression was slightly strained. Three years ago, Maddy had indeed cursed rather colorfully and frequently. After all, she had spent all her life with just her father, who had been busy with his patients. That left her to run with whomever caught her fancy, including gypsies who had taught her the most colorful words in her vocabulary. After his death, the adjustment to polite society had not come easily. But in the ensuing years, things had changed. Maddy had learned how to go on, what to say and when to stay silent. Rose, on the other hand, never saw the change. The girl delighted in painting herself as Maddy’s older and wiser instructor, even though the girl was eight years younger.

“Come on, Rose, you have to help me—”

“Rose! Madeline! Where are you?” Uncle Frank’s angry voice cut through the house.