Authors: Kate Pearce

Simply Carnal (20 page)

BOOK: Simply Carnal

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Helene shuddered. “It was set up to amuse a group of bored aristocratic gamblers and has turned into the sort of place where no one is safe. I don’t even believe the play is honest, so the chances of losing and being forced to engage in sexual acts against one’s will is extremely high.”

“Mr. Delornay doesn’t strike me as the kind of man who would get involved in such underhanded dealings.”

“You would think he’d be satisfied with what we have here, wouldn’t you?” Helene bit her lip. “But he has always craved the unusual and the forbidden. In truth, I think he goes there to spite me.”

Elizabeth had nothing to say to that, her mind busy with the revelation that Christian might have underplayed his explanation as to the Demon Club and what it meant to him.

Madame Helene extracted her hand from Elizabeth’s and sat back, her expression concerned. “I did not mean to worry you, Mrs. Smith. I assumed you knew of this club.”

Elizabeth got to her feet. “I did know about it, but like you, I was under the impression that Mr. Delornay no longer enjoyed going there.”

“I thought so, too, and then I saw his face today, and he didn’t deny his association with the club.” Madame shook her head. “He just told me to mind my own business.”

“That sounds just like him.” Elizabeth headed back to the door. It wasn’t her place to disabuse Madame of her notions about her son. From what she understood, their relationship was difficult enough at the best of times. “I’ll go and ask Madame Durand to bring up some tea.”

“That’s all right, my dear. I have to go and meet my husband at home.” Madame hesitated. “When you see Christian, ask him to reconsider his position about the business, will you? Oh, no, that is hardly fair. I’ll write him a note.” She looked at the desk. “Do you know where he keeps his pens and paper?”

Elizabeth moved to the desk and started opening the drawers. The top drawer was shut, but the key was in the lock, so she opened it. “Here you are, madame.”

Madame Helene wrote her note and placed it on top of another letter that already lay on the desk. “I’ll leave this here.” She glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. “Oh, I must be going. Please see that Christian gets this, won’t you?”

“Of course I will, madame.”

Elizabeth waited until Madame Helene collected her things and left the room before turning to clean up the desk. She stoppered the ink, replaced the pen, and tried to put them back when she noticed something wedged in the back of the drawer. She opened the drawer as fully as she could and coaxed the metallic object out.

She frowned as she turned the silver bangle around and then read the inscription on the inside. Why did Christian have her mother’s bangle in his desk drawer? The door slowly opened and she looked up into Christian’s cold eyes.

“Has my mother gone?”

As he walked toward her, Elizabeth continued to study him. “Yes. She seemed upset. Why didn’t you tell her that I scratched your face?”

He shrugged. “Because it is none of her business.”

“She thinks—”

“I know what she thinks, and it is still nothing to do with her.”

His brusque tone made all her warning senses come alive. “Are you feeling quite the thing, Mr. Delornay?”

His smile was lethal and so cold it made her want to hide from his sight. “I’m
feeling
like a man who is tired of impudent females questioning him about matters that don’t concern them.”

He might as well have slapped her face. She absorbed the unexpected hurt and held up the silver bangle instead. “Then perhaps you might care to explain why I found my bracelet in your desk. This does concern me.”

He came around the desk to examine the bangle more closely. “How do you think I got it? I removed it from your jewelry before Ambrose returned it.”

“You went through my possessions?”

“You left them in your pocket. If it hadn’t been for Ambrose’s vigilance, you might never have seen them again. Perhaps you should take more care of your belongings.”

His sheer brazen effrontery made her momentarily speechless. “I was almost abducted! I was hurt!”

“I know that.”

“Yet you still went through my things.”

“And I take full responsibility for doing so.” He sat in his chair and looked up at her. “The bracelet has a hallmark and an inscription on it.”

“So?”

“It is possible to trace such things back to the jeweler who made them.”

Coldness seized up Elizabeth’s breathing. “I didn’t know that.”

He smiled. “I was hoping you didn’t.” He slid his hand into his pocket and handed her a small velvet bag. “You’ll probably want this back as well.”

She undid the drawstring and found her missing locket. Wordlessly, she looked up at him.

He shrugged. “You are very like your mother.”

She stared down at the now-restored locket and took a slow, deliberate breath. “You had no right to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Investigate me.”

“I have every right. You are living here at my expense, and I am responsible for you.”

She raised her eyes to meet his cool gaze. “How would you feel if I had done that to you?”

“You have no need to go behind my back about anything. I don’t lie to your face, Mrs. Smith. I’m not the one trying to keep my identity a secret and refusing to accept anyone’s help.”

For a moment she yearned to tell him the truth, but his cynical gaze reminded her that he wouldn’t believe her even if she did. Who would? She knew her story sounded like she should be locked away in Bedlam forever.

“I cannot tell you the truth.” She gathered her courage and her recently discovered anger—anger he’d allowed her to express for the first time in years. “And why should you care anyway? At the beginning of our relationship, you made it abundantly clear that you wanted nothing more from me than sex, and I believe I have provided that to your satisfaction.”

He blinked slowly at her and revealed absolutely nothing. “You are quite right. Pray forgive me.”

She clutched the bangle to her chest and stalked away from him.

Christian watched her leave and then picked up the note his mother had left for him and threw it unread into the fire. He’d ignore the initial offer of fifty percent of the business as well and hope that it was forgotten. Had he been fighting a phantom enemy all these years, or had the notion of owning the pleasure house outright simply helped protect him from the messy business of emotions?

He stared into the fire and tried not to think of Elizabeth’s stricken expression when she’d left him. He’d finally achieved what he wanted and made himself invulnerable again, and for what? The pleasure of seeing those around him walk away? Where was the joy and satisfaction in that?

A knock on the door brought him back into the present, and he looked up to see Ambrose bearing a pile of mail.

“Mr. Delornay, I’ve heard back from the College of Arms, and they have confirmed the Walker crest and the family’s title. Apparently Elizabeth’s father was the third son of an earl.” Ambrose put the letters down on the desk and went still. “What’s wrong?”

Christian took a deep breath. “Nothing is wrong. Why do you ask?”

“You look as if someone has stolen your favorite possession.”

“I’m fine!” Christian snapped.

Ambrose took a step back. “Yes, I can see that. I suspect that quarrelling with both your mother and your lover in one morning might be enough to upset even you.”

“I don’t pay you to spy on me.”

“I have eyes, Mr. Delornay. Pardon me for using them. I thought you paid me to be aware of what was going on in this house.”

“I do. I don’t pay you to meddle in my family’s private business,” Christian said softly.

There was a moment of silence, and then Ambrose inclined his head a frigid inch. “Indeed, Mr. Delornay. Let me remove my unworthy carcass from your magnificent presence and count my sins in the kitchens where I obviously belong.”

He turned on his heel and walked out, slamming the door behind him, and Christian hissed a curse. He only needed for Paul, Emily, and his newly found half brother to turn up and he would succeed in offending every single available member of his extended family.

He reached behind him and took a bottle of brandy from the shelf and contemplated his options. As everyone would now spend the rest of the day ignoring him, he had the perfect opportunity to drink himself into a well-deserved stupor. At least he knew the pleasure house would run perfectly well without his help.

C
hristian woke up with a headache, which was hardly surprising considering the amount of brandy he had consumed the previous day. What was surprising was that he was in his own bed and that his clothes had been removed and taken away. He opened one eye, inhaled, and realized Ambrose was placing a tankard of ale and a large mug of coffee beside his bed.

“Good morning, sir.”

Christian struggled to sit up against his pillows as Ambrose opened the curtains to let in some light.

“Good morning, Ambrose.”

“Will you be requiring breakfast, sir?” Ambrose asked, his expression wooden, his manner that of the perfect deferential servant.

“No, I think the ale and coffee will suffice.” Christian cleared his throat. “Did you put me to bed last night?”

“I believe that was one of the Kelly boys, sir. I asked him to assist you after I ascertained that you were unable to walk unaided.” Ambrose took out some clothes from various drawers and laid them on the bottom of the bed. “Do you require a bath, sir?”

“Perhaps later,” Christian said. “Ambrose, I ...”

But before he could complete his sentence, his friend had bowed and left him alone. Christian stared at the door and sighed. Apologizing to Ambrose was always difficult. In truth, apologizing to anyone had always been hard for him. It was no wonder most people saw him as an arrogant, cold bastard.

He glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece and realized it was almost twelve. Despite his headache, he drank the ale and then the coffee and forced himself to wash and get dressed. He approached the kitchen warily, but there was no sign of Elizabeth, his mother, or Ambrose, so he was able to check the newspapers without interruption.

His eye was caught by a reply to the advertisement he had put in the paper to flush out RR. The bastard had agreed to meet “Elizabeth” at the same newspaper office at three that afternoon. Christian smiled grimly. At least he could do something to move matters along.

He walked back to his study and found the information Ambrose had received from the College of Arms. The family address corresponded with the address the jeweler had given Christian for Elizabeth’s father. The current title owner, Michael Walker, the Earl of Spentham, appeared to be the older brother of Elizabeth’s father.

Christian spent some time contemplating the best way to tackle the Walker family and decided that a letter from a pleasure house might not be the most favorable approach. Instead, he drafted a letter and included with it a note to his father’s solicitors asking them to act for him in the matter. He also stressed the need for a speedy resolution to the matter and that cost was not an issue.

He wrote the name of the solicitors on the back of the sealed letter and went back down to the kitchen where Seamus Kelly was watching the door. It took him but a moment to send Seamus on his way with a few coins and instructions on how to find the solicitors’ offices on Columbia Road.

When Christian turned back into the kitchen, Ambrose was there talking to Madame Durand. Christian waited until they had finished and cleared his throat.

“Ambrose, may I speak to you in my study?”

“Of course, Mr. Delornay.”

He followed Ambrose to his office, closed the door behind them, and leaned against it.

“I’d like to apologize for my behavior yesterday.”

Ambrose met his gaze and nodded, his expression inscrutable.

Christian sighed. “Ambrose, I mean it. I had no right to speak to you like that. You
are
family.”

“I am not and I never will be.” Ambrose’s smile was sweet and full of regret. “You were right to correct me. Sometimes I forget my status here.”

“Please, the fault was entirely mine. I allowed my mother to upset me, and then I compounded my errors by getting annoyed with Mrs. Smith when she found her silver bracelet in my desk and rightly called me out on it.”

“Ah.”

“None of which was your fault, of course, so getting angry with you was not fair.”

Ambrose regarded him closely for a long moment. “Your mother means well.”

“I know that.”

“So does Elizabeth.”

“Now that is a different matter altogether. She lies to us, Ambrose, and I don’t understand why. She told me yesterday that even if she did explain herself, I would never believe her.”

“I got that impression from her too. She seems to believe that whatever she has done has put her beyond help or redemption.”

“Mayhap she murdered her husband.”

“If that was the case, surely there would be no need for all this subterfuge? Her husband’s family would simply call in the authorities to deal with her.”

“Then what?” Christian frowned. “She said it comes down to money, and I assume there is some truth in that. But there must be something else... .” He looked up at Ambrose. “By the way, I’m going to attempt to meet up with the infamous RR today at the newspaper offices. I’ll need someone to pretend to be Elizabeth.”

“Perhaps Marie-Claude will help out. She is fond of Elizabeth.”

“Everyone is fond of Elizabeth,” Christian muttered.

Ambrose gave a reluctant laugh. “Actually, Elizabeth reminds me of you, your mother, and the kitchen cat—self-contained, imperious, and willing to kill if necessary.”

Christian glanced at his watch. “I’ve asked my solicitors to contact Elizabeth’s family, and my mother will have new information as to the French side of the business by the end of the week. Hopefully we will have this all cleared up soon.”

“And Elizabeth will be free.”

“I hope so.”

Even as Christian said the words, he hated them. He didn’t want her to be free. He wanted her naked, under him, and swearing never to leave him. But if he tried to keep her, wouldn’t he be just as bad as all the other men in her life? She had to make her own choice. Judging from their current combative relationship, he doubted she’d want to stay within a mile of him.

“Mr. Delornay?”

“Yes, Ambrose?”

“I fear to say anything to upset you, but I believe you have come to care for Mrs. Smith.”

Christian took his time looking up into Ambrose’s all-too-familiar face. “Yes, I do believe I have.”

At precisely three o’clock, Christian and Marie-Claude, wearing Elizabeth’s black bonnet and pelisse, entered the newspaper offices. There was no sign of anyone else waiting, so Christian found a seat for Marie-Claude and inquired of the clerk at the counter as to the correct time.

As he conversed with the clerk, the outer door opened and a man came in and headed straight for Marie-Claude. It took Christian only a second to turn around and block his path.

“Richard? What in God’s name are you doing here?”

His half brother looked as surprised as Christian felt as he nodded in the direction of Marie-Claude. “Good afternoon, Christian. I’m here to meet with a client of mine.”

Christian pointed at Marie-Claude. “This woman here? You are RR?”

“Indeed. Are you acquainted with her?” Richard frowned. “I wish I’d known that earlier, as it would have saved a lot of unnecessary bother.” He started to walk toward Marie-Claude, but Christian grabbed his arm.

“That isn’t the woman you seek. I arranged this meeting because I wanted to meet the man who was attempting to abduct my acquaintance.”

“
Abduct
her? What are you talking about?”

Christian stared grimly into his half brother’s puzzled face. “Perhaps we should adjourn to somewhere more private and lay our cards on the table.”

“I’m more than happy to do that.” Richard put his hat back on and headed for the door. “I have a hackney cab waiting outside.”

Christian arranged for Ambrose and Seamus Kelly to escort Marie-Claude back to the pleasure house and then got into the cab with Richard. They didn’t speak on the journey as Christian tried to comprehend his half brother’s bizarre involvement in a matter so close to his own heart. The cab pulled up at Philip’s town house and Christian sighed. He could only hope his mother and father were out and wouldn’t get to hear about this matter. He doubted they would be able to keep their opinions to themselves.

Richard left his hat and gloves with the butler in the front hall. Christian decided to hold on to his in case he had to leave quickly. Richard glanced at him as they walked deeper into the house.

“Would you object to coming up to my bedchamber? It is the only place where we might talk undisturbed.”

“And escape the notice of our esteemed parents?”

Richard’s quick smile reminded him of Emily. “They are rather prone to interfering, aren’t they?”

“You have no idea,” Christian replied as they started up the stairs. “They practically ruined Lisette’s wedding.”

“I heard you had a hand in that as well.”

Christian acknowledged the hit. “I didn’t say that I was above meddling in my sister’s affairs, did I?”

Richard opened the door into his bedchamber and Christian stepped inside. The fire was still lit, and the pleasant aromas of sandalwood and bay rum warmed the air. Christian took a seat by the fire and waited until Richard took off his cloak and joined him.

“I must ask what you meant about the lady almost being abducted,” Richard said.

Christian sat back. “And I must ask you to explain your involvement with this case.”

Richard considered him for a long moment. “All right. I’ll go first. A French family wishing to trace a woman who had disappeared from their château hired me through the British embassy in France. As she was English, the family was concerned she had either been abducted or had fled back to England. They asked me to find her and bring her safely home to France.”

“Why would anyone ask you to do such a thing? I thought you didn’t have an occupation.”

“I spent several years on the Continent and speak most of the languages fluently. I also made a lot of friends.” Richard shrugged. “Since the war, I’ve been asked to trace missing soldiers and family members, first by friends and later by members of the government. There is no formal arrangement and usually no payment involved, apart from some traveling expenses.”

“You do it out of the goodness of your heart?”

Richard half smiled. “I do it because I lost someone I loved in France during the war, and I hate to see others suffer when I could be helping them.”

Christian sighed. “And now I feel small-minded and petty and put in my place. Of course, you would be a hero, wouldn’t you? Does our father know about your work?”

“Of course not. And, please, don’t tell him.” Richard sat forward. “Now perhaps you might tell me your interest in this matter. How do you know Madame Elizabeth?”

“I am acquainted with her. That is all you need to know,” Christian said, and Richard’s eyebrows rose. “Apart from the fact that my mother is also involved with this and will not take kindly to anyone trying to hurt or abduct her protégé.”

“That is hardly helpful, Christian.”

“I’m not inclined to help you when you are in cahoots with Elizabeth’s enemies.”

“But they are not her enemies. They simply want her to return home.”

“By
force?
”

“What exactly happened?”

“After your last meeting, she was followed out of the office and her deceased husband’s valet tried to abduct her.” Christian paused long enough to judge Richard’s incredulous expression. “Are you still insisting you didn’t know anything about this plan?”

“Of course I didn’t!” Richard retorted. “I was engaged through the embassy!” He ran a hand through his short brown hair. “Was she all right?”

“She is now. Luckily I’d sent a man to watch her, and he was able to get rid of the valet.”

“I’m glad she was unharmed. She struck me as a very pleasant and upstanding woman.”

“She is. I want to meet the man who gave you this commission. I believe he might be called Armand. Is he currently in England?”

“I’m not sure.”

Christian looked askance at his half brother. “You’re not sure?”

“I wrote to tell him of Elizabeth’s refusal to return and suggested that if he wanted a speedy conclusion to the problem, he might prefer to come to England and see her for himself.”

“And he agreed?”

“He did. I haven’t heard anything since then, but I’m expecting him any day now.”

“I want to meet him, Richard.”

His brother’s brown gaze clashed with his.

“Why?”

“Because Elizabeth’s continued good health is important to me.”

“You are involved with her?”

“You could say that.”

Richard sat back and crossed his legs. “Her family seemed quite sincere in their desire to have her back.”

BOOK: Simply Carnal

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