Mastering a Sinner (13 page)

13

“T
here is still no sign of Harry Maclean?” Diana asked Charlotte.

“No.” Her friend sighed. “I suspect your Mr. Maclean is right, and he’s run off to Scotland or made for France.”

“But what will happen if he doesn’t return?”

“I told you. We can wait. Revenge is a dish best served cold.” Charlotte winked at her.

“You are a bloodthirsty wench.”

“For Harry Maclean? Yes, I suppose I am. He destroys people, Di, he uses them and then discards them.”

“I know, love. Perhaps with him gone, you can finally decide what you wish to do with the rest of your life.”

“I’m quite happy here.”

“In the pleasure house?”

“Why not? We don’t all aspire to marry and become an aristocrat, Diana.”

“I did what was necessary to survive. Why are you criticizing me now?”

“I’m not. I’m—” Charlotte got off the bed and went over to her chest of drawers. “I have something to show you.”

She came back to the bed with a large leather-bound book and set it on the covers beside Diana.

“What is it?”

“It’s one of the record books from St. Hilda’s School for Girls.”

“Good gracious! Where did you find this?”

“I didn’t. Nico did.”

“But why didn’t he give it to me?”

Charlotte gave her a sidelong glance. “You’ll have to discuss that with him yourself.” She opened the book and a wave of damp and mildew emerged. “I assume that when the school closed down so suddenly, everything was sold to pay the debts.”

“But who would buy an old book already full of writing?”

“You’ll have to ask him about that.”

Diana fixed Charlotte with her most intimidating stare, but her friend remained unperturbed. “This book concerns the year you and I arrived at the school.”

“Of course. Nico is nothing but efficient.”

Charlotte continued to turn the pages with the tips of her fingers, grimacing at the smell. “We both arrived when we were quite young. There is a question mark beside each of our dates of birth. It seems they had to guess our ages. I for one don’t remember anything about my life before that, do you?”

“Not really,” Diana admitted. “The odd flash of a woman’s face, or a hint of her scent, but not much. Does it mention who sent us to the school?”

Charlotte sat back. “It says who originally paid our fees.”

“But I thought we were charity cases.”

“Apparently not.”

“But that makes no sense. If we had family members willing to pay for us to attend, why weren’t they contacted when the school failed?”

Charlotte tapped the page. “Read your entry.”

Diana found her spectacles and squinted down at the crabbed script. After a moment she slowly raised her head. “No wonder Nico didn’t want me to see this. It says my fees were paid by the Earl of Westbrook’s estate.”

“So you finally have your proof.”

“It would seem so.” Diana shook her head. “I can’t quite believe it. I don’t understand why Nico didn’t tell me.”

“He must have had his reasons.”

“To prevent me from destroying the very lucrative amount of business he enjoys with the Sinners? Perhaps I don’t know him as well as I thought.”

Charlotte reached for her hand. “Promise me you will talk to him before you do anything too outlandish.”

“Oh, I’ll talk to him.” Diana got up and shook out her skirts. “I wonder whether he’s at his office right now?”

“I know for a fact he is not.”

“Then where
is
he?”

“When he dropped the book off to me, he said he would be out of town for a few days. He probably knew that I’d tell you what he’d found.”

“Oh, I’m sure of it.” Diana smacked one palm against the other. “Damn him!” She paced the carpet. “I don’t need to wait for him to return. I could go to the countess and tell her what I’ve found out.”

“But that would be cruel.”

“I know!” Diana practically shouted. “I like the woman, but if her husband is my father, don’t you think she deserves to know what a rake she married?”

“
Everyone
knew he was a rake. He even had a nickname, the Savage Rake. Faith married him anyway. If you have a shred of regard for the woman, you will await the earl’s return, and ask him directly for an explanation.”

“The Earl of Westbrook is due back in London this weekend.”

“Yes, which means you might as well wait until Nico comes back and tells you what he knows before you go barging in there and make a fool of yourself.”

“I will not be the fool.” Diana sighed. “But I do not want to shame my employer. Dammit, I
admire
the woman. It isn’t her fault either.”

“Then
wait
. For goodness’ sake, Di, you’ve waited twenty-odd years already to find out who your father is. What difference will a couple more days make?”

 

“A letter for you, sir.”

“Thank you, Maddon.” Alistair used his paper knife to slide between the thick envelope and the black gargoyle seal and eased out what appeared to be an invitation.

His name was written in slanting script in the center.

“The Demon Club requests the pleasure of your company on the last Saturday of the month for the repayment of your debt by whatever means possible.”

Alistair finished reading aloud and studied the words again before flipping the card over. There was an address on the rear, a time, and another line of text. “There is no need to reply to this invitation. You will be present.” He grunted. “Well, that’s rather direct.”

With a sigh, he put the card down in the center of his desk and stared at it. He had a sense that Harry wasn’t going to return in time to deal with the Demons. All he could do was write them a note declining the invitation and reiterating why. He had a horrible feeling that his wishes would make very little difference. Would they come for him in his apartment and kidnap him? Or would they use more subtle methods to entice him to their side?

Whatever they did, he had to try to reason with them. Reaching for a sheet of paper, he wrote a short note, reminding them that it was his brother who had incurred the debt, not him.

A discreet knock on the door revealed Maddon, who took Alistair’s letter and then paused. “There is a matter I wished to discuss with you, Mr. Maclean. It concerns some unusual activity within the household.”

“Go ahead.”

“James reports that someone has been upstairs in the attics accessing the Sinners Club records.”

“And when he says ‘someone,’ I assume he doesn’t mean one of the founding members or Lord Keyes and Mr. Fisher.”

“No, sir.”

“Well, I haven’t been up there, so who else could it be?”

Maddon hesitated. “He thought he saw Lady Theale.”

“Did he?” Alistair frowned. “And have you asked her if this is true?”

“I decided to speak to you first, sir. Lady Theale has been asking me a lot of questions about the origins of the club. I thought that bore mentioning as well, sir.”

“What kinds of things has she been asking about?”

“How the club was formed, where the Pelly family came from, and about the Earl of Westbrook.”

“How interesting.” Alistair considered this new twist. “I will talk to Lady Malinda and the countess and ascertain if Lady Theale has been given some task that we don’t know about to search the archives.”

“That would seem an excellent way to proceed, Mr. Maclean.”

“I appreciate you bringing this matter to my attention, Maddon.”

“You are welcome, sir. I greatly respect Lady Theale, but I would not wish harm on the countess. I’ve known her since she was a young girl.”

After Maddon left, Alistair stared at his steepled fingers. Diana had insisted that her job at the Sinners had nothing to do with her involvement with him or with his brother, Harry. If she was telling the truth, it didn’t mean she wasn’t after something else entirely, but what?

Information of some kind, obviously, but was it a private matter or one that threatened the security of the nation? A person who desperately needed money might be prepared to sacrifice anything to survive, and he sensed Diana was a survivor. She’d managed to claw her way out of the pleasure house by marrying a member of the minor gentry. And now she had
him
by the balls—literally.

Having him in her power, why hadn’t she asked him to help her with whatever matter she was investigating? Did she already understand that his loyalty to the owners of the Sinners was completely separate from how he felt about her? Perhaps not. Most people imagined that a man who wanted to be dominated in the bedroom wanted to be dominated in his real life. But Diana at least should know him better than that.

Was she simply waiting for him to submit completely so that she could make him do whatever she asked? And devil take it, when she ordered him to do something, he truly wanted to obey her with all his heart.... He’d even offered her his soul.

“Mr. Maclean?”

He jumped as Lady Theale knocked briefly on his door and sailed into his office, a letter in her hand, her spectacles perched on the end of her nose.

“Yes, my lady?”

She paused to look down at him, her expression alert. Sometimes it was hard to reconcile the way she dealt with him in bed with her efficiency at the Sinners.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m quite well, my lady. How may I help you?”

She turned to his door and locked it. “This was just delivered for you.” She placed a letter on his desk and a large, flat velvet case that looked as if it might contain jewelry. “There was also a note for me. Shall I read it to you?”

“If you wish.”

She pushed her spectacles further up her nose. “Dear Lady Theale, thank you for a most enjoyable evening. Your slave was everything he should be and more. If you ever need him taken care of, Lady Jane, Thomas and myself would be more than willing to offer him a place in our bed. Minshom.”

Alistair swallowed hard and eyed the jewelry box. “What is it?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you open it and see?”

He cautiously undid the gold latch and revealed the sleek black satin lining. Sitting on the surface was a narrow silver collar and a set of cock rings. Long, thin chains hung from either side of the collar, which he assumed attached to the rings. Alistair rubbed his finger over the brightness of the metal.

“What does his letter say, Mr. Maclean?”

Alistair opened the enclosed note and read it aloud. “This is for you, Maclean. It is discreet enough to wear under your normal clothes, yet allows your mistress to know that you are entirely hers. If I owned you, I must confess that I would keep you oiled, and naked and collared like this at all times purely for my pleasure. Minshom.”

Diana sat on the edge of his desk and gently lifted the collar from its satin cushion. “It has my name engraved on it. That was rather presumptuous of him.”

Alistair stared at the silver circlet, his mind in chaos. To be
owned
. To wear her collar for him permanently . . . How could he do that when she might be about to betray the very people they worked for?

“Mr. Maclean?” She replaced the collar in the box.

He slowly closed the lid. “It is very kind of Lord Minshom to think of me.”

She was silent for a long while until he finally looked up at her. “You aren’t willing to wear it yet though, are you?”

He shook his head.

“Then put it away.” She slid gracefully off his desk and onto the floor. “Unless you wish to visit Lord Minshom and thank him in person?”

“No, my lady.” He couldn’t repress a shiver. “I do not want to do that.”

“Yet you are still not willing to bow your knee completely to me.”

“I have given you more than I’ve given—”

She held up her hand interrupting him, her polite smile firmly in place. He had a terrible sense that he had hurt her, but no idea what to do about it.

“I have another question. Do you know exactly when the Earl of Westbrook is arriving?”

“Why do you need to know that?”

She blinked at him and he winced. Her abrupt change of subject had made him answer her more sharply than he should have. And now he would have no opportunity to find out if she was upset about him not wanting to wear her collar.

“The countess asked me to check.”

He sat back in his chair. “I sincerely doubt that. The countess is always aware of her husband’s plans.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“That perhaps you wish the information purely for yourself?”

She went still. “Have you been speaking to Nico?”

“I haven’t seen him all week. Is there something you wish to tell me, Lady Theale?”

“No, Mr. Maclean, there is not.”

“Because your business is with the earl.”

“Exactly.” She curtsied. “Good morning, Mr. Maclean.”

“Lady Theale.” He spoke to her back as she was already heading for the door. “Why are you so interested in the Earl of Westbrook?”

She unlocked the door with an audible
click
. “That is my business.”

“If it affects anything within these premises it is my business too.”

She turned to face him. “This has nothing to do with you.”

“Only my employer.”

“You are employed by Mr. Fisher and Lord Keyes.”

“To
run
the Sinners in its entirety, which includes all matters involving the Westbrooks.”

She sighed. “Mr. Maclean, you are simply being difficult because you feel vulnerable. You believe I intend to compromise your position in some way. I understand your concern, and I repeat that this matter has nothing
whatsoever
to do with you, your horrible brother, or our relationship. Am I making myself clear?”

“Then tell me what’s wrong.”