Conspiring with a Rogue (23 page)

Sin took a long draw off his cigar, then blew the smoke out. “Sad, but true. The entertainment in my life has diminished, Whitty.”

“
I doubt that.” She was likely his entertainment. “What lord was seen leaving a certain lady’s house on Saturday night?”

“
Lord B. Deuced sniveling fellow.”

So he had read the first line. That proved nothing. Whitney glanced at the next sentence. “What lady tripped over her own dress and fell into the fountain at Vauxhall Gardens?”

“
Lady M.” Sin grinned. “Must we continue? I’m sorry my attention was diverted. Did Sutherland offend you, ravish you, compromise your innocence?”

The questions were soft, but Sin’s gaze pierced her. He knew, blast him. He knew what she and Drake had done. And now what? Did he intend to save her honor by ensuring she end up with the man who had taken it?

She threw the sheet on the desk and wandered over to the settee. She sat next to Sin and across from Drake. The only chance she had against Sin was boldness and shock. She must shock him and get him to relent. “I gave Drake my innocence.
Willingly
. And now I intend to spend the rest of my life with another man who will undoubtedly be here any minute.”
God willing
. “I do not need to be saved by you or anyone.” Surely, surely, this would do the trick and make them both go.

“
Save
you
?” Sin shook his head. “Whitty, I’m not here to save
you
. I’m here for
Sutherland
. It’s really very simple, if you’ll just pay attention.”

She nodded, despite her frustration.

“
You’re looking for Lillian Lloyd. Sutherland here—”―Sin pointed at Drake— “is in business with Mr. Lloyd.”

Whitney’s breath caught as she met Drake’s gaze. “You are?”

Drake nodded. “For quite some time now. I import his coffee for him.”

“
Oh, dear. Is this what you meant when you said we were temporarily linked?”

Drake’s mouth pulled into a seductive smile. “
One
of the things I meant. We can discuss the other in
private
.”

Heat instantly pooled between her legs. She shifted in her chair, crossed her ankles and cleared her throat. Did mortification show on one’s face? She forced herself to speak. “How does your business with Mr. Lloyd have anything to do with my search for Lillian?”

Drake sat back in his chair, his fingers coming to his jaw. He rubbed absently as he stared at her. “To be honest, I’m not completely sure. It’s a feeling.” He touched his stomach. “Here. The problems with my ships sinking started a month ago. When did Lillian disappear?”

“
One month ago today.”

“
That was my fear. Do you see?”

She did see. She leaned toward him, her hesitation to allow herself too near him subsiding under her natural curiosity. “You think your sinking ships and Lillian’s disappearance are connected?”

He leaned toward her so close she could clearly see the shadow of unshaved whiskers on his jaw, his lips pressed together in concentration, the slight frown line between his eyebrows. She longed to reach out and kiss the frown lines away, kiss all his troubles and worries away. As if he discerned her thoughts, he reached out and took her hand, turning it palm side up. He traced a finger down one line on her palm. “Lloyd, Lillian and I are like the lines on your palm. The courses of our lives are linked somehow. The problem now is figuring out how.”

His touch made breathing hard, thinking clearly—even harder.

“
Any ideas?” she murmured.

“
One. I think there’s someone out to either ruin Lloyd or force his hand in some way, and they don’t mind who they destroy in the process.”

“
They hurt his coffee business and distract him,” she answered, her heart hammering, her thoughts soaring faster than she could keep up with. “And Lillian, dear heavens…”

Drake squeezed her hand. “By taking Lillian, whoever it is has effectively turned all Lloyd’s attention to finding his daughter. And until he does, his role as head of the insurance board at the Society of Lloyd’s will suffer. I have an interest in finding Lillian Lloyd.”

He did, blast it all. And she could use his help as well as Sin’s. Lillian’s life could be in grave danger. Whitney sighed with the weight of her choices. None were good. She had to risk letting Drake help her in order to help him. But his help did not have to be in her presence. She could make this work. “All right. You and Sin can question Mr. Lloyd. Find out who his enemies are.”

“
I may already know,” Drake replied. “And I do plan to question Lloyd, but with
you
. As for Sin, he already has an imperative assignment.”

“
What?” Whitney demanded, disbelieving Drake’s claim, based on the flash of surprise in Sin’s eyes. She needed no louder warning than the slip in her cousin’s usually blank countenance.

Scrutinizing her with a frown, Drake flicked his gaze to Sin and back to her. “Rutherford is going to a twilight masquerade dinner at Lord Cadogan’s tonight.”

Whitney glanced between her cousin and Drake. How much should she tell them? Did she really have a choice? She took a deep breath. “Cadogan is the last man I think Lillian saw before she disappeared.”

“
And there’s a bet in White’s books that he said he could seduce her,” Sin added.

“
Dear Lord,” Whitney whispered. Her mind raced with the possibilities of Lillian’s fate.
Murdered, seduced, worse.
She gulped with fear.

“
It’s settled,” Drake said. His hard voice brooked no dissent. “Cadogan might be dangerous. You will come with me, and Sin will go to see Cadogan.”

“
No,” she blurted, jumping up from her chair. Things were moving fast. Fast out of her control, and fast into Drake’s. She could not go with him. She could not be seen with him in public and risk Mrs. Blightson making her threat of destroying him a reality. “I can’t go with you.” Was she actually shrieking?

“
Why?” Drake and Sin demanded at once.

Why? Yes, why
? What a fine, superb question. One she did not have a clever answer to. She could not give the truth, and it seemed her skill for spinning tales had run out of yarn.

“
I—”

“
She certainly can’t go with you,” another voice interrupted, surprising her.

Whitney jumped at the deep voice from the parlor entrance. “Jonathan!”

He pushed the door all the way open and strode into the room with Audrey on his heels. Jonathan stopped in front of Whitney. He reached to take her hand, and she cringed at the hurt it would cause Drake, but she forced herself to raise her heavy arm and grasp Jonathan’s hand.

“
Darling.” Jonathan brushed a kiss across her fingertips, then he offered Drake a polite, but overly long glance. “I’m afraid I can’t allow her out of my sight.”

Whitney wanted to cry with relief and horror, but a sudden movement to her right caught her eye, and all her relief fled, leaving only horror. Drake had moved to her side with the silence of a panther about to pounce, and judging by the murderous glare in his eye, Jonathan was the intended victim.

“
Please.” Whitney grabbed Drake’s arm and pulled at him. “Don’t make a terrible scene.”

Disbelief stilled Drake. Whitney was pleading for this man,
Jonathan
. She worried for
Jonathan’s
safety. Drake took a good look at his enemy—the man who had taken Whitney from him. Was his enemy really wearing a purple waistcoat adorned with gold flowers? Hell, yes, those were flowers and voluminous green trousers under his purple silk waistcoat. And he had rings on four fingers and three—one was apparently not ostentatious enough—
three
diamond pins.

Hellfire. Johnnie-boy was not only impotent, he was a fop. His shirt collar was so high and stiff, the dandy probably could not turn his head from side to side without pricking his cheek with a shirt point.

Drake stared for so long, Whitney huffed. He couldn’t help it. He was amazed that she loved the effeminate man standing beside her. “I’ve the name of a good tailor, if you’d like it,” Drake said.

Whitney gasped, and Johnnie-boy tugged on his trouser seam to smooth them.

The ridiculousness of the man defused Drake’s desire to kill him. Simple hatred would do. He threw his head back and laughed, until Whitney jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow.

“
You are a rude American,” her impotent lover mumbled.

Drake wiped the moisture from his eyes and met Whitney’s glare. “Thank God.” Drake motioned toward Johnnie-boy. “Look what being a polite Englishman turns you into.”

The room fell silent except for the ticking of an antique clock on the side table, which enhanced the tension vibrating in the air.

Whitney’s hand struck his face with a force he had not realized she had in her. The room erupted into a scuffling of feet and protest. Rutherford towed Lady Audrey toward the door, as the woman objected loudly. Johnnie-boy turned as if to retreat. Drake could not help but chuckle, but as Whitney reached out and grabbed the man’s arm, Drake’s amusement vanished. He wanted to rip the dandy’s arm out of her hold. Hell, he wanted to rip the man’s arm off his body.

Whitney’s gaze froze on Drake’s. “Now we’re even,” she said.

The skin of his cheek stung. He hated himself for his nastiness, but he hated her more. Even now, her eyes bright with anger, her cheeks flushed red and her small hands clenched around another man’s arm, Drake wanted her. Damn her. “We’re far from even,” he said.

“
Perhaps not, but there’s no need to continue.”

He rubbed his flesh, his anger flaring back to life. There was a need.

His need
. And it was definite and fierce.

If he was going to live the rest of his life without her, he had nothing but hell to look forward to. She was his other half, his soul. She had condemned him to perdition by making him love her, and
damn
her—he wanted her sentenced to the same miserable existence.

He would make her love him, beg him to stay, and then he would leave and take her pride, her soul and her peace when he departed. He smiled, and she blinked, a frown of confusion creasing her brow.

“
I’m sorry,” he offered, with a shrug and a sheepish smile learned long ago when forced by his father to ask for handouts. “You hurt my pride, and I retaliated by acting like a spoiled child. No more. I promise.”

She did not look convinced. Drake stepped toward Johnnie-boy and offered the man his hand. “Truce. You’ve won her. She’s yours.”

The dandy took Drake’s hand and pumped it up and down. “Splendid. I hate the nasty business of a jealous man.”

“
That’s interesting.” Drake disentangled his hand from the man’s grasp as he glanced toward Whitney. She squirmed so much she fairly danced in place.

“
It is?” Johnnie-boy’s face scrunched up in obvious confusion.

“
I heard you were a rather jealous fellow.”

“
You should be going,” Whitney interjected with a pointed look at Drake.

“
Because your new beau is so jealous?”

Johnnie-boy laughed. “I’m the least jealous man I know. I—”

Whitney hauled her “lover” against her. “Darling,” Whitney said in a voice that seemed too brittle for a woman desperately in love. Doubt sprang up in Drake’s mind, until she caressed the man’s cheek. “You know you’re jealous when it comes to me.”

The man took Whitney’s hand and petted it while staring foolishly into her eyes. “Of course I am jealous when it comes to you. It drives me stark raving mad when you’re around any other man. I was speaking generally.”

Whitney flashed Drake a triumphant smile. “See. That’s why I can’t accompany you to Mr. Lloyd’s. Poor Jonathan would be beside himself, wouldn’t you?”

“
Positively distraught,” the man confirmed and turned to cup Whitney’s cheeks between his hands. He brushed his lips against hers. A sound—
was that a moan?
—came from Whitney’s throat.

Hell and damnation. Drake’s gut clenched as he pictured Whitney and Johnnie-boy intertwined and naked in bed; then it unclenched at the thought of what they could never do together in bed. This man would never possess her as Drake had. Even now he wanted to have her under him again, begging him to love her.