Temptation & Twilight (28 page)

“Let me know when you’re ready to begin.”

“I will never agree to it, you know.”

“You will.”

She had to. It was the only chance left to him. Seduce her with a love story that defied centuries. A love story that mirrored their own.

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12-01-31 4:04 PM

THE DOOR OPENED on the third violent rap of the brass knocker.

“May I be of service?” The steely eyed, pinched-mouthed butler looked down the long length of his nose in hauteur.

“Tell Sheldon the Marquis of Alynwick is here to see him.”

“His lordship is not in this evening.”

“My apologies. Perhaps in my attempt at politeness, you did not understand me,” Iain snarled as he placed the toe of his boot on the step to prevent the butler from slamming the door in his face. “You will go now and inform Sheldon that Alynwick demands an audience, and if he denies me, I will tear down this door and any other door that keeps him from what I want. Is that understood?” The butler sniffed. “Very well, my lord. If you will wait here.” The door slammed shut.

Iain was left staring at the black painted door and brass knocker in the image of a lion’s head. It took no more than a minute for the butler to return and open the door to him.

“His lordship will see you immediately.” Shrugging off his greatcoat and hat, he handed them to the butler, who passed them along to a footman before he escorted Iain down the long, mahogany-panelled hall to Sheldon’s study.

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Throwing back the doors, the man announced in tones that conveyed immense distaste, “The Marquis of Alynwick.”

Sheldon glanced up from the middle of the floor, where he was busy attempting to make a black dog sit still.

“Jack!”

Sheldon roared the name, but the dog came bounding over to Iain, his tail wagging so voraciously that his whole back end was swaying.

“Down!” Iain ordered when he jumped up on him. The canine obeyed, much to Sheldon’s obvious surprise. Iain petted the animal behind the ears as a reward for listening. The dog licked his hand as though it were a sweet.

“Jack, go lie down.”

Reluctantly, the dog obeyed, prancing to a blanket on the floor near the hearth.

“Forgive him. He’s just learning his manners. But from what I heard of you at the door, you’re not one to be impressed by good ones.”

Setting his teeth together, Iain fisted his hands at his sides. “I’m not a pandering, toadying aristocrat, no. Why waste time on niceties using double entendres when a succinct statement derives far more satisfactory results?” Sheldon watched him, his gaze steady and knowing.

“I am neither pandering nor toadying, either. I’ve spent too many years in the East, dealing with those who do not care for the British way of evasiveness and betrayal hidden behind gentility. Sit,” he commanded, motioning to the chair before his desk. “Drink?” Overnight, it seemed, a bar had been set up. There hadn’t been one present last night when Iain had searched the study. “No, thank you.”

“Tea? Brandy?
Scotch?
” he asked, his gaze sly, as if BOUND GALLEY EDITION March 23, 2012

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the bastard knew Iain’s tongue was hanging out for a wee dram of
uisge beatha,
the water of life. But he’d be damned if he took anything from the Earl of Sheldon.

With a shrug, Sheldon poured himself a large measure of brandy from the decanter on a side table, then took a chair behind his desk. Setting the glass down, he moved a pencil over onto an unrolled piece of parchment, manoeuvring the tip so that it rested against the Templar cross fixed on the corner, ensuring Iain’s gaze would be drawn to it.

Cunning scoundrel…

And this was the sort of man Elizabeth had spent her time with? The man she had thought to share Sinjin’s diary with? Sheldon was as dangerous as a two-headed cobra.

“You will forgive the disarray of my study, I hope. I have had a locksmith in today to add new locks to my windows, and the maid has not yet been in to clean up the workman’s wood shavings.”

Iain refused to allow his gaze to slide to the windows.

He would not give any confirmation to the answers Sheldon was seeking with his veiled statements.

“Infidels, thieves and murderers abound in the metropolis,” he replied. “It’s good to watch your back.”

“Indeed.” Sheldon sat back in his chair, reached for his brandy and took a leisurely sip. “Although years spent abroad have given me an edge, I think. They have a way about them, in the East. A certain relish and technique for subterfuge, ambush and revenge. One picks that up quite quickly when one is raised amongst them.”

“I wouldn’t know. I was raised by a Highland clan in the wilds of Scotland. We Scots have our own way of vengeance and retribution.”

“I shall have to remember that.” BOUND GALLEY EDITION March 23, 2012

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“See that you do.”

Leaning forward, Sheldon replaced his glass atop the desk and ran his tanned hands across the parchment, fanning them out so that the paper lay flat. “To what do I owe this somewhat expected visit?”

“You know very well what is on my mind.”

“Lady Elizabeth York.”

“You’re a quick study, Sheldon.”

“I only state the obvious, a trait we share, I think. We share something else, too. The fact that Elizabeth York is on both our minds.” He glanced up, his gaze daring Iain to refute the truth. “Isn’t she?” Iain’s eyes dropped down to Sheldon’s hands. He had a horrid, gut-wrenching visual of those dark hands traversing the pale curves of Elizabeth’s naked body. It made him grit his teeth and strive for control. Especially when he still had the scent of her clinging to his fingers.

What he was doing was underhanded, most especially to Elizabeth. But a desperate man would do anything.

Even cut off his arm. And Iain was desperate enough to do just that. Although he had tried, unsuccessfully, to make himself believe that this visit was part of his duty to Sussex and Black, and the Guardians. As such it was his obligation to investigate Sheldon and discover what he knew about their order. But he was here for Elizabeth, his Beth.

“Leave her be, Sheldon.”

The earl cocked his head, studying him. “You think I’m toying with her, or that I mean to harm her?”

“I don’t know your true intentions.”

“They aren’t to hurt Elizabeth, I assure you.”

“
Lady
Elizabeth,” he muttered between set teeth.

From the corner of his eye, he saw the dog’s head BOUND GALLEY EDITION March 23, 2012

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come up. Senses alert, the animal watched them, obviously aware of the very dangerous hostility in the air.

“All right, then. Lady Elizabeth. She’s a remarkable woman. I’ve never met one like her. I could spend hours talking to her.”

“You have, it seems,” Iain growled.

“What has she told you?”

The question was asked in a mild, almost artless way that spoke volumes. In trying to seem relaxed and almost uncaring, Sheldon was revealing a great amount of anxiety.

“She has not told me anything, but I was with Sussex when she informed him of your little stroll this afternoon.”

“Ah.”

He would not have Sheldon thinking that Elizabeth had gossiped about him, or that she had been purposely questioning the earl to extract information that she could share with them. He still didn’t know who or what Sheldon was, and he would not have Elizabeth in danger.

“So Sussex sent you over here, did he?”

“No, he did not. I came on my own volition.”

“Because you love her.”

It was not a question, but a boldly stated fact. One Iain would not deign to answer, because when he admitted it, when he finally said the words aloud, the first person to hear them would be Elizabeth.

“You came here tonight to tell me to stay away from her, is that it? You’ve discovered that she and I share much in common, and that I have requested she join me on my latest expedition.”

Sheldon slid the etching closer to the edge of the desk so Iain could see it. “Elevations of Temple Church. I’m BOUND GALLEY EDITION March 23, 2012

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sure Elizabeth told you of my interest in the Knights Templar, and the artefacts and mystery surrounding them.”

“She did. What I’m wondering is what you stand to gain by bringing her there with you.”

“The pleasure of her company? The excitement of sharing a find with someone who understands my enthusiasm? Elizabeth has just as much zeal as I for the Templars. Or did you not know that?”
Christ.
The bastard was perfect for her! The thought nearly knocked Iain from his chair. How he hated to admit such a thing, but it was there, staring him in the face. The Earl of Sheldon was everything Iain wasn’t—

kind, gentlemanly, well-read; everything a woman like Elizabeth should want in a husband and more. They shared the same interests, they talked with ease—but they could not possess the same elemental passion that Iain and Elizabeth held for each other. That was a rare phenomenon, a meeting of souls and hearts, and every other ethereal thing he could think of. There was simply no way Elizabeth could feel that—could allow herself to feel that—for another man.

Suddenly, Iain narrowed his eyes. “What are you about, Sheldon?”

Surprised, the earl held up his hands. “As you can see, I have nothing to hide, Alynwick. I’m an archaeologist with a love of Templar lore. I came into my title quite accidentally, and have been in England only a short time.”

“I’ve asked around about you,” he said, “and there is precious little anyone knows about you, or your time spent abroad.”

“I don’t doubt it.” The bastard didn’t even look surprised that Iain had taken it into his head to investigate him or his past. “My family is a very small one, and since my father spent much of his time in the East, the BOUND GALLEY EDITION March 23, 2012

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few connections and friendships he had while growing up here have all but disappeared.”

“Convenient.”

“If a bit lonely.”

Iain decided to ignore that statement, and the image of Elizabeth filling that void for Sheldon.

“While there were few who knew me, there was no end to the people willing to impart to me what they knew of the Mad Marquis.” Sheldon’s hazel eyes flickered up from the pencil he was holding, landing on Iain. “Like you, I decided after you nearly choked me to death at the Sumners’ musicale that I did not, indeed, know enough about you.”

Iain should have expected no less, but still was shocked. Not that anyone wouldn’t relish the idea of gossiping about him. But he hadn’t thought Sheldon the type to go searching for information. He’d believed him bookish, concerned with literary salons and art—not the type to exert oneself to investigate a man’s past, or break into his study.

The earl was a puzzle. And Iain loathed puzzles. He definitely had no patience for them.

“And what did you learn?” he asked in a bored tone.

“Anything of use, or was it all the usual nonsense, a di-gest of my sexual escapades?”

“There were any number of those. I confess you put the most virile of the male species to shame by your prowess. But I found something of interest there.”

“I doubt it. I’m only exciting when it comes to my sexual appetites and the scandals they create. Other than that, the ton doesn’t give a damn.”

“You were raised by an abusive mother.” Iain had murder in his eyes, he knew, as his gaze narrowed on Sheldon. How had he learned that?

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“Your parents separated when you were young. Your father left you in her care, having no need of you until, it can be presumed, he desired to mould you into his heir.

Your mother’s father was the laird of the Clan Sinclair.

The old man was a tyrant and so, all the accounts say, was his daughter.”

It had been the main attraction for his father, his mother’s innate strength. He’d wanted that bred into his son, so that when it came time to take his place, not as the Marquis of Alynwick, but as a Brethren Guardian, he would have a backbone of steel.

His father had known what his mother was like. How she raged at any imperfection. She was not maternal. Not soft and loving. She had raised Iain to be immune to any emotion, and when her lessons did not work, his grandfather had taken over the task.

Most of all, Iain had learned to be selfish and self-serving, putting his desires before anyone else’s. A leg-acy that most parents would cringe away from, but not his. They’d relished it. He was strong in both body and mind. He needed no one. Not even them.

“When your grandfather died on a deer hunt, you took his place as laird. You were ten. Your first act as chieftain was to see to the removal of your mother to another house—in Sterling. Far, far away from you.” She had deserved it, damn it. He’d been ten, and yet she and the chieftain still beat him. He could never please her, so he’d pleased himself instead and sent her packing.

He never saw her again.

“You were laird for six years, and a highly regarded one. Courageous and strong, and respected by the other chieftains. They saw quite a promising man in that youth.

Then one day your father rode into the Highlands, whisk-ing you away. When you returned, there was nothing left BOUND GALLEY EDITION March 23, 2012

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