When Tempting a Rogue (14 page)

He lifted his head and glared at his brother. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

Archer shrugged. “I admit that I’m normally the dramatic one in the family—I do have the most flair—but Grey and I are worried about you.”

“You needn’t be. I’m perfectly fine.” He was looking at Archer so he didn’t see Grey move. The slap to the back of his head almost sent him crashing into the table nose first.

“Ow!” he cried, shooting his brother an incredulous and furious glance. “What did you do that for?”

Grey shrugged. “Thought it needed to be done.”

Archer raised his glass. “Well played, Your Grace.”

Trystan rubbed the back of his skull. “I think it’s time for me to leave London again,” he said, only half joking.

His eldest brother scowled at him. “It’s time for you to grow the hell up and go after what you want. If that’s La Rieux, go get her. If not, find someone else— because this side of your personality is pissing me off.”

Grey’s words could have easily sent him into a tantrum of epic proportions, but that in itself was a sobering thought. His brother was right. He needed to grow up. He thought he had, but really he hadn’t. Where Vienne was concerned, he was still acting like the spoiled boy he’d been when she first took him to her bed. He blamed her for this mess, when really he had started the whole thing by insinuating himself in her life. He wanted her to see him differently, but he continued to treat her as a woman who had broken his heart and cast him aside. He expected her to trust and believe in him, when he wasn’t willing to give her the same courtesy.

What if she hadn’t been playing games at Angelwood’s party? What if her reaction to him was real, driven only by attraction? What if she honestly wanted him as much as he, admittedly, wanted her?

What if he had been given a second chance to win her heart? It wouldn’t be easy, as distrusting as she was. She would fight him tooth and claw, but he had already established how well they worked together, and maybe this time she wouldn’t be so quick to run away. He would have to treat her like a feral cat and coax her to him with patience and care.

Or with a butterfly net. He smiled at that thought.

“He’s gone mad,” Archer remarked to Grey.

“Have not,” he responded. The whiskey had gone to his head, but he still had all his faculties about him. “I just had an epiphany.”

“I do hope it’s not contagious,” Archer replied with mock seriousness.

“No,” Trystan answered, clapping him on the shoulder. “Unfortunately for you, Arch, common sense cannot be passed on.”

“H
aven’t seen anyone skulking about, Mrs. La Rieux. Been quiet as a church ’round here.”

Vienne did not correct the head of Trystan’s hired private guard. He could assume she was, or had been, married if he wanted. Though it was the
Englishness
of it that irked her mostly.

“Thank you,” she told him. “I appreciate how diligent you and your men are.” That diligence was no doubt why she got the threatening note, because the villain couldn’t get close to the site.

He doffed his cap to her, bid her a good day, and went on his way. She assumed he and his men slept during the day in order to patrol the entire night. When he was gone, she went back to inspecting wallpaper for the ladies’ powder room. Pale gold with turquoise and green birds, or a pale cream with pastel flowers? Her natural inclination was to the gold, so she decided on the cream instead.

“I like the gold,” came a voice from the door.

Vienne squeaked and then silently cursed herself for doing so. She rarely ever startled, but she hadn’t been paying attention.

She glanced over her shoulder. Trystan stood in the doorway, bright eyed and freshly shaven in a dark blue coat and tan trousers. Had he decided to grace her with his presence and attention? She looked away. “I’ve decided on the cream,” she replied civilly.

He chuckled. “Of course you have. You missed breakfast.”

She shrugged and set the wallpaper swatches on a nearby workman’s sawhorse. “I assumed you were no more available this morning than you have been the past few.”

“I should have sent ’round a note. My apologies.”

Her brow drew together, and she hesitated a moment before turning to face him. “An apology. How very novel.”

He stepped into the room. “Actually, I was thinking that you and I spend a foolish amount of energy misunderstanding one another and then apologizing for it. It would be so much less taxing if we simply talked, wouldn’t it?”

That was not the reply she had anticipated. “Yes. I suppose it would be.”

“Excellent. I’ll go first. Vienne, I apologize for thinking you’re trying to manipulate me. I assume that since you rejected me years ago your only interest in me is to have me under your control, especially since I was so . . . underhanded in how I became your partner.”

She gaped at him. When he said they should talk, he meant it. “I accept your apology. I will admit that at first I wanted to be the one in charge, but now I find there’s a certain degree of comfort in having someone to help shoulder responsibility. To be honest, I must confess to suspecting that your reasons for wanting to work with me were based on revenge for me breaking your heart . . .”

He smiled. “You think a lot of yourself, don’t you?”

There was no malice in his tone, but she wasn’t quite certain how to take his remark. A rueful grin curved her lips. “Sometimes. But so do you.”

“True enough.” He moved closer and leaned his shoulder against the wall where she stood. “Vienne, I like you. I like working with you. I think you’re a beautiful woman and I would like nothing more than to share your bed or have you in mine, but I don’t want to ruin our business relationship, which is what I think would happen if you were to decide to end the affair. And you would end it. I think we both know that.”

Vienne glanced down at her feet, unable to bear staring into his nonjudgmental eyes. “I decided a long time ago that trusting people only led to heartache, and I do try so very hard to protect myself from hurt. I cannot argue with you, Trystan. You are right, I would probably end things. Better yet, I would hope to stop it before it ever started, and not because I worry about getting hurt, but because you have become one of the last people I would ever want to injure, and I would injure you. I do not think I could avoid it. We are from entirely different worlds, are entirely different people.”

“But you want me, don’t you?” He slipped a finger under her chin and forced her to meet his gaze. “Tell me I’m not the only one who wants to say to hell with it and have you right here and now.”

Oh.
His admission sent a shiver through her entire body. “No. You are not the only one.”

His answering smile was rueful. “Then we will have to help each other stay strong and resist temptation. I know how attractive I am, do you think you can stand firm against me?”

Stand
and
firm
might not have been the best words to use in the situation, but Vienne went along with his jesting manner. “I believe I might be able to keep my hands off you—with your assistance, of course.”

His eyes sparkled. “Of course.”

It was the perfect solution, and it felt as though they had just taken their relationship to a new level, so why did she feel like crying? It was a hollow victory. She would have rather he’d come in here and ranted and raved and then kissed her again, so she’d have the excuse to kiss him back.

She would never admit it, but she wanted him so badly she suspected she would be willing to risk their partnership and friendship for even just one night with him. Or an afternoon. Honestly, she wasn’t fussy.

“I ran into Menkins when I came in. He said things have been fairly quiet around here.”

Vienne swallowed. She had been dreading this moment almost as much as she had dreaded seeing him. She withdrew the note from her pocket. “Around here, yes. But not so much elsewhere. I received this the other day.”

Frowning, Trystan took the paper from her and quickly read it. “Bastard,” he muttered before handing it back. “He’s gone too far. Why didn’t you show me this before?”

She gave him what she knew had to be an incredulous look. “Perhaps because you were being a total buffoon? It’s not as though it happened weeks ago. I’ve only had that a matter of days. I’m telling you now, and that will have to be good enough.”

She could tell from his expression that he didn’t know whether to kiss her or strangle her. “Did you go to the police?”

“Yes. And I showed it to your inquiry agent. I’m not stupid, Trystan.”

“Good Lord, woman. I’ve never thought otherwise.”

They stared at each other a moment before giving in to the urge to chuckle. It was too absurd not to.

“Forgive me,” she said. “It is unfair, but I am accustomed to most men treating me as though I do not know what I’m talking about.”

Trystan grinned. “I don’t know how you modern women do it. Were the roles reversed, I think I might have shot someone by now.”

She shrugged. “I have.”

He chuckled. “Touché. I was at Brooks’s yesterday with my brothers when Earl Chase came up to me and asked how I could be part of a scheme that would basically lead to the downfall of the entire female gender.”

“Oh, he’s one of those ones who believes being able to buy everything in one place will lead righteous women down the path of greed and debauchery?”

“Something to that effect, yes.”

She made a scoffing sound. “Perhaps he is the one who sent me the note.”

“Did it smell like bourbon when you opened it?”

“No.”

“Wasn’t Chase, then. Though, it was someone like him, wasn’t it? Which means he’s of middle or upper class.”

“You assume it’s a man. It could be a woman.”

Trystan thought about it. “Not to be prejudiced, but I suspect there aren’t too many women who know how to construct a false step.”

“Not many aristocrats either,” she shot back. “Could you?”

“I confess I might be able to give it a go, but it wouldn’t look as convincing. However, our man—person—might have hired someone to make the step, and even put it in place. The smartest criminals know better than to get their own hands dirty.”

“Known many criminal sorts?”

“You don’t want to know.” He grinned. “Enough of this jabbering. We’ll go to Scotland Yard tomorrow and see what they can tell us.”

She raised a brow. “Now look who’s trying to take control.”

He rolled his eyes—in a manner that reminded her of herself. Obviously they were spending far too much time together. “Shall we go to the Yard tomorrow?”

“
D’accord
. That wasn’t so difficult was it?”

Shaking his head, Trystan offered his gloved hand. “Come with me. I want to show you the chandelier for the upstairs foyer.”

Vienne clapped her hands excitedly—like a child. “They delivered it? When?”

“Yesterday. Apparently the men installed it before heading home. I’m surprised you didn’t see it.”

“I was only here for a short time yesterday. I had club business that needed attending. Not all of us can afford to ignore our other concerns.”

Another grin. He smiled so easily—she loved it. “I have minions to take care of things for me. Shall we?”

She took his arm and allowed him to lead her from the room. They walked slowly, discussing how pleased they were with things, or what needed to be changed. She asked his opinion on carpet for the men’s hat-and-gloves section and he picked her favorite. It was a silly thing, but it pleased her to no end.

They had to climb the stairs to the first floor as the lift had yet to be installed. Vienne was more than willing to allow Trystan to go first. The memory of the fear she’d felt when the step gave way was still too fresh; and after receiving that damned note, she was far more anxious than she could ever be comfortable with. She despised being afraid, and if she ever found the man—or woman—responsible she would be tempted to give them a wound to match William’s.

“While we’re being honest with one another,” she began, ascending the steps behind him. “Did you by chance have any involvement in making my mess with my winged footman disappear?”

Trystan paused on the step, one foot braced against the next, hand on the banister. He glanced down, between his arm and body to look at her. “I might have. Would you be angry if I said yes?”

“No,” she replied honestly. “To be honest, I’m flattered. For the past eighteen years, I’ve had only myself to rely on. I’m humbled by someone caring enough to take action on my behalf.”

His expression turned thoughtful and slightly dumbstruck, as if he’d just seen a pig fly or a dog talk. “I’ve never thought of it that way. I’m always offended when my brothers try to protect me—as though they still think of me as a child.”

She followed after him as he began to climb again. “To them you will always be their younger brother. They would do anything for you. I envy that.”

“But you have older siblings, don’t you? I remember you telling me about them years ago.”