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Authors: Maggie Robinson

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So this is where he’d spent the past few days. Well, not in
this
room, but above in his mistress’s bed in a
ménage à trois
. But for all she knew, here, too. Ben was not afraid of a little rugburn. The fact that the third party was male puzzled her, for Ben had never shown an inclination in that direction as far as she knew. Although maybe that’s why he admired her in trousers, she thought grimly.
A little ormolu clock ticked on the mantel. Evangeline imagined the fluffy Veronique counting the hours until Ben came to her. She had to admit to herself he was worth the wait—December’s indiscretions had been beyond satisfying. But January had come, and Evangeline had not kept him sufficiently intrigued to prevent him from going back to his old ways, not that she had tried. If anything, she had probably pushed him right back into Veronique’s arms.
She straightened her shoulders and stood as she heard Ben thump down the stairs. He had the grace to look shamefaced as he entered, his ruddy cheeks matching the scarlet tassels on the sofa cushions, his magnificent body clad only in a black-and-gold striped dressing gown. His feet, Evangeline noted, were bare, and she stifled the urge to stomp his toes into the Persian rug.
“This isn’t what you think,” Ben began.
“Don’t bother trying to explain. I had a visit from the Earl of Dustin this morning. He deputized me to tell you he plans to kill us both if news of his wife gets out, and that he won’t buy this house or your whore from you. He wants to see you as soon as you . . . finish up here. And you’ll be happy to know the paper went out without a hitch this week, although I cannot guarantee next week’s issue. I quit.”
“What? No, wait, Evie!” Ben caught her coat sleeve as she tried to get past him.
The last thing she wanted was a scene within hearing of his exquisite little mistress, who must be lurking somewhere about, ready for action as she was well-paid to be. “Let go of me at once,” she hissed.
“I won’t.” He had on his earnest puppy-dog face, the one she hadn’t seen in ten years. “Please sit down and I’ll tell you everything.”
“Your words will mean nothing. You know I planned to leave
The List
anyway. I’ll just leave sooner than expected.”
“Give me a minute to tell you—”
“I’m sure I don’t want to know, though it doesn’t take any intellect to figure it out. But really, it’s none of my business. Why should I care what you do and who you do it with?” Her nose was as high in the air as she could make it. Pray let him believe she didn’t feel a shred of anything but contempt.
“I haven’t done anything! Well, not much, at any rate.”
“I’m not stupid, Ben. I admit I was naïve in thinking you had changed—”
“I have, I swear! I’ve stayed here for a very good reason. You say Dustin knows his wife has left him?” His hand remained on her elbow, its warm pressure seeping through the fabric and heating her skin.
“Don’t tell me you’ve had her, too. Wherever do you find the time?”
“Enough, Evangeline.” Suddenly the puppy barked. Ben no longer looked so anxious to please her. In fact, he looked like he might even be growing irritated.
Lord Benton Gray’s lack of anger was legendary. When faced with anything that would cause an ordinary mortal to snap, he presented an unruffled, calm demeanor. When Evangeline had broken with him all those years ago, she’d had to push—and push hard—to get him to go away. He’d been amusing company these past weeks, quick with a quip and untroubled by many of the things that caused her concern. It was nearly a relief to see the spark in his eye and hear the growl in his words. She much preferred a worthy opponent, was in fact fairly itching for a fight.
If only the delicate, delicious Veronique was not within shouting distance.
Ben shoved her back down into the cushions. “Be quiet now, if you can. Yes, I have been more or less here since I left the office. I’m sorry I abdicated my responsibilities, but I did it for you.”
“For
me
? Am I to be pleased you’ve been drinking and drugging and fornicating for days?”
“I’ll admit to the first two. Veronique will tell you my part in the other was minimal at best.”
“How very comforting,” Evangeline sneered.
“Oh, Christ, do shut up. You are so damned self-righteous it’s sickening.”
“How dare you criticize me, you—you libertine!”
“If you continue to interrupt me I’m going to have to kiss you, and right now I find I do not especially want to.”
Evangeline found no words to respond to that, so she crossed her arms and waited. Whatever lies he would say were bound to be ridiculous. She watched as he fiddled with the fringe on a curtain. The weak sunlight was enough to halo his golden head, although anyone less like an angel would be hard to find.
“On Friday, a woman came to the office looking for you. Lady Dustin. I don’t even know what her first name is,” Ben mused. “She wanted you to write one of your character assassination pieces on her husband. I believe you said you’ve had the dubious pleasure of meeting him this morning. He’s a bully and a tyrant. I told her I’d help her get away from him, and have done so. With any luck, she’s over the border by now—that is, if she and her little boy and Callum and my second housemaid aren’t stuck in a snowdrift.”
“What?”
“Is your hearing deficient? I’ve just confessed to being a White Knight, fighting off a dragon of a husband, just the sort of thing you’ve been doing for two years. It hasn’t been a picnic distracting the bastard, either, but between Veronique and some of the other Janes, we managed.”
The Janes
? It was the ton’s nickname for the dozen women who lived on the street. None of them had such a commonplace name, however. Evangeline knew there had once been a Carmela, and there was now a Victorina and a Mignon and a Persephone, goddesses all. Ben had spent four days with more than one mistress, but according to him it had been for a good cause.
He had helped Lady Dustin—whatever her Christian name was—flee her husband? Why would he do such a thing? A man might exercise his husbandly rights any way he chose, and his wife had to endure whatever choice he made. If the earl had beaten the countess, no one would be expected to step forward.
But Ben had.
“I don’t understand.”
“I’ve probably done a stupid thing—if Dustin finds out I’m complicit in the disappearance of his wife, he’ll kill me and then you can go back to running
The List
alone. Quite frankly, I feel half-dead now. A bullet might be a welcome thing.” Ben moved toward a decanter of brandy and poured some into a tumbler. He swirled it about for a few seconds, then tossed it back. “Hair of the dog. What we need to do now is neutralize the man, convince him to go abroad or, if we’re lucky, shoot himself. I can’t keep his wife at Castle Gray forever.”
Evangeline’s mouth dropped open. “You’ve hidden her in your
home
?”
“What else was I to do? The poor girl was desperate. Dustin punishes his son to torment her. He breaks people’s arms. You’d never know it to look at him, would you?”
Evangeline thought of Lady Imaculata’s father, equally innocent-looking. One never knew what went on within a man’s mind and behind closed doors.
“How do you know she was telling the truth?”
Ben gave her a sharp look. “Give me some credit. At first I was wary, but after I spent a few minutes with her, I just
knew
. She reminded me of—of people I’ve known who are living in terror of some man’s fist. Only in this case, Dustin doesn’t lay a hand on her, only the people close to her. That’s almost more vicious.” He moved away from the window and sat down opposite, his bulk looking somewhat comical in a dainty tufted chair. “I didn’t want to involve the paper in any more scandalous stories, but now I’m not so sure. Perhaps we should fix it so Dustin never has the power to hurt anyone again.”
“What can we do?”
“I was rather hoping you’d think of something. I’ve done all I can here, keeping him chained to Veronique’s bed while his wife got away. I was hoping he’d stay a full week—that way, traces of his wife’s journey would be harder to discover. If he hires that chap Mulgrew, we’re sunk.”
“The private investigator? Why don’t you hire him first? Pay him to mislead Dustin,” Evangeline suggested.
“By God, I knew I liked you for a reason. That’s a brilliant idea. Mulgrew’s got a sterling reputation as a family man. I don’t think he’d want to bring a wife back to such a husband.”
Evangeline remembered he’d brought back Lady Imaculata from France, but then no one had told him about Lord Egremont’s peculiar attentions to his daughter first. She felt the headache she’d been harboring since she crossed the threshold of Number Two Jane Street fade ever so slightly. “And you really want to write about Dustin on the front page?”
“Let me think about that when I’ve got a clearer head. We’d have to witness his bad behavior and make sure others do, too. Maybe I should throw a party.”
“All that liquor had gone to your head. You are not making the slightest bit of sense.”
Ben grinned. “Oh, yes I am. I’ve been thinking about selling this house. What could be more entertaining than to invite a bunch of proper gentlemen to view it and Veronique? We could have an orgy, with Lord Dustin smack in the center.”
“He doesn’t seem to be inclined to be your friend at the moment,” Evangeline reminded him. “And was most unimpressed with Veronique.”
Ben snapped his fingers. “Words said to save his pride. Believe me, he’s been a happy man these past few days. He’s throttled enough throats and twisted enough arms to slake his depravity. He’s a brutal bugger.”
“And the Janes permitted this?” Evangeline wondered. No amount of remuneration would persuade her to subjugate herself to such things.
“They like me,” Ben shrugged. “I promised no real harm would come to them, and it didn’t. Arabella’s protector is at the Congress of Vienna so she had free time, and Mignon’s gentleman is laid up with the gout. They were at loose ends and a little bored, I think.”
Unbelievable
. But it really was not for her to judge. If she had been beautiful, she might just as easily found herself as someone’s mistress during the very lean years with her gambling father.
“You’ll have your work cut out for you to get Dustin back here.”
“Leave it to me. In the meantime, discover all you can about Dustin’s fortune. His habits and haunts and so on. You excel at that sort of thing. He’ll never know what hit him.” Ben beamed and it was hard not to be carried along by his optimism.
The day had been full of surprises so far. Who knew what would be next?
January 12, 1821
 
E
vangeline was feeling the thrill of the chase. Her blood had not sung quite in tune since Ben forbade her from trolling society’s underbelly for scandal. Her last stories had been of an uplifting nature, and thus unbearably boring. While she was still undecided as to the wisdom of exposing Lord Dustin’s sins in print, she at least was enjoying rummaging through the complicated network of his financial interests and friendships.
She had gone to her usual sources yesterday—the neighborhood servants and tradesmen who knew everything worth knowing. It seemed Dustin’s fortune was in steep decline. His young wife’s settlement—Allison was her name—had pretty much been run through, and he owed a great deal of money to his tailor. Though he dined at his club nearly every day, he had formed no warm relationships with his peers, although it was clear he wanted to impress them somehow. The gossip belowstairs was that he was a very hard man to work for. Evangeline was surprised she had not been asked to rescue one of his servants from cruel treatment already.
Lady Dustin’s family, while financially comfortable, was undistinguished. It had been quite a step up for Allison Barry to marry an earl, and they were now set on finding similarly situated husbands for their other daughters. A runaway wife would significantly compromise their ambitions, and Evangeline filed that away for future use as a bargaining chip if the Barrys could be made to sympathize with their oldest child.
Sifting through the details, she could not for the life of her see how they might shame Dustin enough to give up his bad behavior. He didn’t have close friends to shock or living family—apart from his wife and child—to embarrass. There were some men, Dustin probably among them, who could get sexually excited only when making others suffer. It might not even be possible for Dustin to change his nature.
Change . . . according to Ben, he had left his own wicked ways behind, even if Evangeline had thought otherwise at first. And it seemed he’d taken on a fair amount of personal risk, hiding Lady Dustin at his Scottish estate. If discovered, he might be accused by Dustin of alienating the affections of his wife in a criminal conversation suit. If Dustin chose to divorce his wife, she’d lose her son and that action would blacken Ben’s name far more thoroughly than Evangeline had ever done in
The London List
. Ben might consider all this a lark, with talks of orgies and subterfuge, but Evangeline knew there were serious consequences to his impulsive actions.
Even worse, Allison Barry, Countess of Dustin, would be destroyed.
Evangeline frowned over her bits of paper, and was so lost in thought she barely registered Ben’s arrival.
“Beautiful morning, isn’t it?”
Evangeline looked up. Sleet was pinging at the window. “What have you done now?”
“Sent out invitations. The party for Dustin’s demise is tomorrow night.”
“Tomorrow! But I haven’t come up with a strategy yet.”
“All taken care of. Or it will be, with your help.”
“You know I’ll help you.”
Ben hung his hat and coat on a hook. “I hope you won’t mind playacting a part again.”
“I thought you said I didn’t lie well,” Evangeline reminded him.
“Oh, you’ve got experience in this role. I want you to just be yourself, your Mr. Ramsey self. A young man out on the town. You are going to seduce Lord Dustin.”
Evangeline choked. “I beg your pardon?”
“You have noticed, haven’t you, that a certain kind of man finds you very attractive?”
“I can assure you Dustin did
not
find me attractive!” The man had been repelled by her and her station, thinking himself far above her.
“But he will, when he thinks you are Miss Ramsey. But then he’s going to discover that you’re Mr. Ramsey.”
“You have been in the brandy and it’s not even ten o’-clock,” Evangeline accused.
“No, my angel. I am perfectly sober. Our aim is to expose Dustin’s perversity.”
“But he isn’t a molly, is he? And anyway, calling that
perversity
seems vastly unfair to the men who are made that way.” Evangeline had met several gentlemen of that persuasion over the years, and always felt the bias against them was most unfair, not to mention fatal.
“I agree absolutely. Dustin is about as masculine as they come, a bully who thinks his vicious behavior proves his manhood. Imagine his disgrace when he realizes the courtesan he’s been making up to in front of all his cronies is, in fact, a man. He’ll be shattered, and so mortified that he’ll happily accept my generous offer of passage to India to make his fortune.”
“
I
can’t be a courtesan,” Evangeline sputtered. “Look at me!”
“I am looking at you,” Ben said softly. “And you are lovely as you are, but with Veronique’s help, you will be dazzling.”
He was mad. Utterly deranged. And India! The whole scheme was—
Rather tidy. Dustin’s reputation would be ruined, and his financial position was already very shaky. He might just jump at the chance to absent himself from England’s shores and agree to leave his wife and child unharmed. With any luck, he might die of some dreadful Indian disease, too.
“I don’t know, Ben. I cannot see myself as a
femme fatale
.” She was mercilessly realistic about her shortcomings.
“You managed to snag me, Evie.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“There should be none of that with Dustin. No sharp words, no disparagement. Just all honeyed sweetness and seduction. Come, we haven’t a minute to waste. We’re going to Jane Street.”
 
It had taken most of two days before Veronique and the other Janes were satisfied with Evangeline’s appearance. Evangeline had been pinched, plumped, and powdered so that she was unrecognizable even to herself. Veronique had done something rather magical with stage make-up so Evangeline’s nose was just a shadow of its former self. Her eyes were ringed with kohl, her long lashes blackened, her lips and cheeks rouged. Her ice-blue spangled dress, left behind by someone named Lucy who had run off and married her protector, fit her angular body like a dream, and revealed assets Evangeline didn’t really have. Her wig was a glorious mass of golden curls, which was the most difficult thing to get used to.
“There. Feckin’ perfect.” Veronique had dispensed with her French accent sometime around teatime yesterday afternoon, for which Evangeline was grateful. “’e’ll not be able to resist you or my name’s not Veronica O’Brien. ’e likes blondes—gave Arabella a spanking she’ll not forget anytime soon. The man is a feckin’ pig.”
Evangeline nodded. She could endure a spanking for a good cause.
“Now, this is what you must do—no, don’t sit down, you’ll tear the dress. We want to save that for when you’re in the gent’s lap.”
Evangeline listened to her instructions until she thought her ears would bleed. Her heart hammered and her throat dried. She could hear the guests downstairs. The other girls were already down there, tickling chins and pouring Ben’s liquor with a heavy hand.
Every eye was on her as Veronique pushed her into the parlor. Ben grinned and winked at her, and she had to look away. The men outnumbered the ladies by far, and Evangeline noted they were all avowed cocksmen—Ben had gathered up the ton’s most notorious womanizers and promised them entertainment. But there were a few unfamiliar faces. One of them must be Dustin’s banker, and she knew some of his other creditors had also been invited this evening because she had written the invitations herself.
“ ’ere she is, messieurs, our latest
edition
to Jane Street’s
jeune filles
. May I present Evelyn? She is as yet without the protection of a suitable gentleman. Perhaps one of you will be
tres
lucky tonight,
hein
? What do you t’ink, Mademoiselle? Which of these so
gentil
gentlemen catches your eye?”
“I’m sure I couldn’t say,” Evangeline said, casting her eyes to her huge feet. She hastily tucked them under her diaphanous skirts.
“I’m all the man this lovely Amazon could ever want,” someone said to ribald cheers. But Evangeline would not be tugged over like a rag doll. Ben had promised to pave the way for Dustin’s attentions only.
“Bah. I should tell you, young Evelyn has, ’ow you say, special needs.
Preferences.
She likes to be under a man in every way. Under ’is t’umb, I believe you English would say. She desires a man who will keep ’er in ’er place. By whatever means
necessaire
.”
“Then I’m her man.” Dustin said, stepping forward like clockwork. The man was predictable to a fault.
“You do not look so
formidable
to me, Lord Dustin,” Veronique said dismissively.
“Looks are deceiving, you little bitch. I know what to do with my women. Here, I’ll show you. Come.”
Evangeline jumped at the command but couldn’t seem to move forward. Veronique gave her a little shove in the man’s direction.
“Good evening, my lord,” she said, her voice husky.
Dustin grabbed her arm hard enough to leave marks. “Let’s go upstairs and get this evening started. I trust you have no objections, Gray?”
“Why go upstairs? So many steps. So little time.” Ben gave the earl a bland smile. “You’re among sympathetic gentlemen tonight, Dustin. We like a good show. Nothing you could do will shock us. We’re unshockable, wouldn’t you say, my good fellows?”
There was a general roar of approval. Good Lord. There really was to be an orgy, with Evangeline at its center. Her cheeks flamed with heat, but she angled a padded hip into Dustin. “I’m game, my lord. Are you?”
“Always ready, my dear. Let me show you how ready.”
Evangeline was relieved she was wearing gloves, so the contact with Dustin’s erection wasn’t quite so acute. But she couldn’t avoid his mouth as he brought it down to slobber on her. She hoped her shudder could be taken as a frisson of desire, and she wrapped her arms around the man as though she were a delicate vine climbing a rotten trellis, rubbing gingerly up against him to the catcalls of the other guests.
How far would she need to go? The disgusting kiss was not enough. She needed to make him touch her
down there,
so he would feel the little—well, not so little—sand-stuffed replica of manhood that the girls had sewn up to tuck into her smalls. It was imperative she not give Dustin time to detect that her manhood was not real, so she was poised to rip off the blond wig and reveal her true gender. Well, her faux gender. It was all a bit of a Chinese puzzle box at this point.
The kiss seemed endless, and the blasted man seemed more interested in squeezing the batting in her bodice rather than her codpiece. It was Ben’s clear voice that reminded the earl what they were here for.
“For God’s sake, man, how long must we wait? The Janes are getting jealous.”
“I’ve plenty left over for them, too,” Dustin boasted as he came up for air, his lips slimy. “Are you wet for me, Evelyn?”
Evangeline batted a clumpy eyelash. “What do you think?” She drew his hand to her thighs just as he’d drawn hers to his.
It was comical to watch him turn white, then green. “What the hell?” he whispered. “What’s the meaning of this?”
“Do you feel how hard I am for you, Dustin?” she purred, dropping her voice an octave but speaking quite loudly. “It’s such a pity that Lord Gray wouldn’t let us go upstairs so we could have our usual privacy. But, as I said, I’m game.” She reached up as she had practiced, and the blond wig slithered to the floor.
“The devil! Evelyn’s not a whore! She’s—he’s a man!”
Much like the horrible kiss, the laughter was endless. Dustin was brick-red now, his fist raised.
“Ramsey! From the bloody newspaper,” he growled.
“Don’t bother hitting him.” Ben stepped forward, actually pulling out a quizzing glass and examining her as if she were a slug. “By all that’s holy, you’re right, Dustin. That’s my employee, Evelyn Ramsey. So that’s where you’ve been off to lately, having it on with old Dustin here. I’m afraid I’m going to have to fire you, my boy. I can’t have this kind of scandal associated with
The London List
. It’s bad for business. Whatever will your poor twin sister say? My heart breaks for her.”
Well, she had been looking to make an exit from the paper, and this was as spectacular a one as she was likely to get.
“That’s all right. Dusty will take care of me, won’t you, darling?”
“I never—you lying bastard! I’ve never touched him before, not once!” Dustin turned desperately to his audience. “You must believe me. I only fuck women.”
“And beat them, too, don’t forget,” Evangeline chimed in. “And your little boy when he gets in the way. But I like to be hit. So we should get on quite nicely.”
“Ev-
Evelyn,
” Ben warned. “Don’t press your luck.” He stepped in front of her. “Surely we can come to some amenable arrangement. My friends won’t gossip about this, will you?”

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