Conspiring with a Rogue (25 page)

“
Not much besides the fact that you needed me to act like I was madly in love with you.” Jonathan shrugged. “She was actually quite confusing. How’ve I done so far?”

“
You were splendid,” she lied. He’d done passably, if she discounted the fact that his gaze had returned frequently to Drake’s muscular form. Jonathan could not still be here when Drake returned. If Drake spent too long in the other man’s company he would no doubt deduce the truth of Jonathan’s preferences.

She needed to explain herself quickly and bluntly and send Jonathan home. The problem was she could hardly explain her choice to herself.

She certainly could not say that to Jonathan. She cleared her throat. “You see, Mr. Sutherland and I were betrothed. I left him without warning and now he wants to seduce me, most likely to get even with me by leaving me heartbroken.”

“
And will he?”

“
Will he what?”

Jonathan reached out and grasped her hand. “Will he leave you heartbroken?”

“
Most certainly.” She squeezed Jonathan’s hand. “But I’d rather have a shattered heart and the memories of his seduction.”

“
So you plan to let Sutherland seduce you?”

Heat tinged her cheeks. “Yes.” She forced herself to meet Jonathan’s open, frank gaze.

“
Then why did you send Lady Audrey for me?”

“
It’s very complicated. I thought I wanted him to go.”

“
And then he was before you in all his male glory.” Jonathan grinned cheekily.

“
Something like that,” she mumbled, her mind flashing a picture of Drake’s perfect chest, muscled abs and long, powerful legs.

Jonathan released her and shoved his hands in his pockets. “You might gain more than pleasure if you’re not careful. You can’t possibly pass as a man if you’re carrying Sutherland’s child. I can get you what you need to guard against that, if you wish it.”

What she wished was that the ground would open up and swallow her in. If the heat burning her cheeks and neck was any indication, her face was surely beet red. “You would do that for me?”

“
I’ll do it immediately. Now, what else do you wish me to do?”

“
Will you pretend to be a horribly possessive man who is madly in love with me to make Drake jealous?”

“
My dear, there’s no need to pretend the latter. I do love you madly. You introduced me to Murray, and without him…” Jonathan shrugged.

“
Your life would be empty.”

“
Worse than empty,” Jonathan agreed. “And what of your life without this man, Sutherland?”

The mere thought of her desolate life ahead made her shudder. She wrapped her arms around herself to ward off the chill of loneliness. “I can’t think on it. There’s simply no choice in the matter.”

“
There’s always a choice,” Jonathan said in a voice so low she almost missed it.

She knew about Jonathan’s choices. “Do you miss your family still?”

“
Desperately.”

“
And Wendell?”

Jonathan tapped a finger over his heart. “Sometimes I wonder how my heart can still be beating without Wendell in my life. But if I had stayed—” He waved a hand in the air. “You know the rest.”

She nodded. How unjust the world was. Impulsively, she reached out and hugged Jonathan. They were so much alike. Two people forced into choices they would have never made unless there was no other option. Jonathan loved his home, but more than that he had loved Wendell, who he could never be with again. Jonathan had fled, just as she had, to protect the one he loved the most. That Jonathan loved a man, just as she did, did not bother her in the least, though she knew very well just how disgusted most people would be if they found out. Jonathan and Wendell could have paid for their love with their lives. She sighed. “We all make the best of the choices forced on us, don’t we?”

“
We do, dearest.” Jonathan brushed a kiss on her cheek, and as he drew back, the air moved with the scent of cigars, whiskey and maleness. Pure Drake. A long shadow fell over her and Jonathan. She jerked out of his arms, but before she could twist to face Drake, he had turned her to him. His brown eyes burned through her soul and set it to flames of desire and fear.

“
I presume Johnnie-boy knows all your secrets?”

Whitney ran a hand over her trousers, her heart beating in triple time. “He does.”

“
Excellent. Then he’ll understand you have to come with me for Lillian’s sake.” Drake grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her down the steps before she could protest or agree.

“
Wait a blessed minute,” Jonathan said.

Whitney expected Drake to stop and face Jonathan, but he didn’t even pause. He barreled toward his phaeton and then suddenly stopped. He gave her a hard look. “Well?”

She squared her shoulders and raised her chin but climbed into the carriage with as much manly dignity as she could muster. Drake clambered onto the driver’s seat after her as Jonathan appeared, huffing, beside the stepladder. “Where are you going?”

Whitney glanced at Drake. “To Lloyd’s Coffee House, I presume?”

Drake gave a curt nod and snapped the horses into motion before she could even offer Jonathan a proper goodbye.

She pursed her lips and tapped her foot against the wooden floorboards as the phaeton jostled down the road. The cool wind and steady movement of the carriage reminded her of the last time she had ridden with Drake. The day had ended with them lying in the grass while his lips worked magic on hers. Excitement pumped through her veins, making her squirm until she caught his gaze on her, and she forced herself to still.

“
You do not need to drag me hither and thither. I told Jonathan everything. Well, almost everything. He understands we’ll be working together to find Lillian, and he has reluctantly agreed to accept the situation. I’ve sworn to him you won’t touch me.”

“
Kitten.” The word was a deep growl laced with the promise of a thousand slow caresses. Drake’s hand came over her leg and trailed up to her thigh, where he massaged her gently before releasing her. “You should never promise things you’ve no hope of keeping.”

If it weren’t for the fact that they were riding in an open phaeton and that she was dressed like a man, she would have jumped in his lap then and there. It occurred to her as she focused her gaze straight ahead and the streets went by in a blur that though she was allowing him to seduce her, in the end, he would get exactly what he wanted. He would break her heart, but she would gladly let him break it over and over, if only for one more moment in his arms.

From the outside, The Society of Lloyd’s appeared rather nondescript, a white-washed stone building with nothing to mark it as special save its imposing size and the blue and gold plaque beside the entrance door that read Lloyd’s Coffee House, 1691-1785, marking the date the Coffee House had officially become a society. But as Whitney stepped through the threshold of Lloyd’s, the pungent smell of coffee filled the air and animated conversation surrounded her. This was no ordinary place. She took in a deep breath, the underlying scent of coffee filling her senses and making her mouth water. There were some definite advantages to pretending to be a man, such as not being prohibited from entering coffee houses. “Can we get a cup of coffee?”

Drake stopped ahead of her and turned. “What’s that, Wentworth?”

The playful smile that quirked his mouth up at the corners caused her heart to skip. Every moment she spent with him brought her joy and pain combined. She had to be careful not to get lost in the joy and forget soon she would have to leave him again.

“
I said—”―she raised her voice so that she could be heard over the roar of conversation going on around them—“care for a cup of coffee?”

The towheaded boy who had been leading them through the coffee house peered around Drake’s broad shoulders. “Mr. Lloyd is in his office, but I can take you to the coffee room first, if you wish it, sir.” He blinked at Whitney with large blue eyes. Something about his appearance reminded her of someone, but she could not put her finger on whom.

Drake quirked a brow but left the choice to her.

“
The coffee can wait,” she said begrudgingly. On the list of important things that commanded her attention, savoring a rich cup of coffee among the fascinating melee of merchants, bankers and ship owners ranked second to learning all she could about the circumstances surrounding Lillian’s disappearance—something she’d failed to do in her previous conversation with Lillian’s father. “Take us to Mr. Lloyd’s office first.”

The boy nodded and continued his trek through the throng of men crowded around counters and tables. The room hummed with the buzz of animated conversation, pierced by the chink of china cups clattering against tables and countertops. She looked around the room, fascinated by the crowd as much as the building.

The ceiling seemed to go forever, ending far above her in evenly spaced circular windows where sunlight from the outside flooded into the room. She craned her neck as she walked and attempted to take in all the details. The beautiful stained-glass window with its rich blue, green and yellow panes of glass captured her attention. Drake stopped suddenly in front of her, and she barely missed barreling into his back. Thank God she had quick reflexes. He exchanged quick pleasantries with a plump older man before moving forward.

She focused straight ahead on Drake’s back as they continued, allowing her gaze to slide away only once to quickly take in the enormous iron clocks mounted on the walls. The way each clock ticked to a different time for different parts of the world fascinated her. A deep longing rattled through her bones. Once, she might have seen some of those unusual places, if she had married Drake as planned. He had wanted to take her traveling. She wiped at the moisture in her eyes, blinked rapidly and forced her mind to focus on the discoveries to tell Mr. Lloyd and what new information she needed to ask him.

They left the main room and followed the boy down a narrow hall, the noise fading as they went. The boy gestured to the door in front of him. “This is Mr. Lloyd’s office.” The lad pounded three times on the door. “Mr. Lloyd. You’ve visitors.”

“
Not now,” came a barked response.

The boy glanced apologetically at them. “Begging your pardon. He’s gotten surlier and surlier as the days have gone without locating Lilly. He’ll be pleased to see you, though, Mr. Wentworth. And of course you, Mr. Sutherland.”

Whitney studied the boy’s face. He must be close to the family to call Lillian by her nickname. He cracked the door open and stuck his head inside. She could not see Lillian’s father, but she recognized his growl at the unwelcome intrusion. She glanced at Mr. Lloyd’s employee to see whether the man’s dark mood bothered the boy, but oddly, he did not appear disturbed.

“
Mr. Lloyd.” A surprising amount of exasperation dripped from the boy’s tone. Whitney scrutinized him.
Do I know him?

“
Mr. Lloyd,” the boy tried again when he got no response to his first inquiry, “Mr. Wentworth and Mr. Sutherland are here to see you.”

A chair scraped, footsteps plodded against the floor and the lad jerked back as the door swung inward. Mr. Lloyd barreled through the door. “Why didn’t you say so?” he demanded with a frown.

Drake clapped Lillian’s father on the shoulder, cutting off the beginning of what surely would be one of the man’s infamous tirades. “Lloyd, he just did, you surly old goat. Leave the boy’s head on his shoulders, eh?”

Mr. Lloyd glared at Drake for a moment, until a reluctant smile crossed the man’s lips. “That’s what I like about you, Sutherland. You never hesitate to put me back in my place.” Lillian’s father motioned impatiently toward the boy. “Go on with you, Christopher.”

“
Christopher?” Whitney barely contained her surprise. “Christopher Lloyd? Lillian’s younger brother?” Good Lord, he had grown and had lost his baby fat. His face was lean, his hair cropped short. After a moment, she became aware of the silence surrounding her. Immediately, she looked at her companions.

Six pairs of questioning eyes regarded her at once. She focused her gaze on Mr. Lloyd, for he was the main one who needed to believe she was a competent investigator. She had to have his full trust. “From my inquiries into your family, I thought your son to be younger, more of the age of about twelve.”

Mr. Lloyd stared at her dubiously, shifted from foot to foot and then spoke. “He’s twelve.”