Tempting a Sinner (7 page)

From her startled expression he guessed she hadn’t expected him not to pounce on her confession immediately. But he needed a moment to think. He took the tray down and received the thanks of Lizzy and Mrs. Goodman, who gave him a whole bottle of brandy and two glasses to take back upstairs with him. He didn’t doubt that his father was involved in some way, but why had she admitted it so easily? What was he missing?

He paused outside the bedroom door, aware of his headache returning and the stiffness in his wounded shoulder. Despite being able to ride, he still wasn’t at his best either mentally or physically, and he needed to be at the top of his game with Malinda. She’d always been as sharp as a pin. It was one of the reasons why he’d spent so much time with her when they were both children following the army. His father hadn’t liked it, but Benedict had felt more at home with Sergeant Rowland and his family than with his own.

He’d missed her.

He’d pushed her memory ruthlessly to the back of his mind because it hurt too much to think about what he’d done, and how he’d allowed himself to be manipulated by the man who was supposed to have his best interests at heart. But he supposed his father would argue that he’d done what he needed to extract his son from a scandal. And Malinda hadn’t helped. She’d seemed equally determined to get rid of him.

He pushed open the door to discover that she’d fallen asleep in the bed, one arm pressed over her eyes, curled up like a child. He removed his shirt and breeches and hung them close to the fire to air. Perhaps this was for the best. Tomorrow they’d reach London, and all the resources of his personal empire would be available to him. He’d be able to keep her more at a distance and use his mind instead of his cock to make the decisions that needed to be made. He’d never had to make that distinction before. But she was the first woman he’d ever made love to. He hadn’t realized until she’d left him and he’d embarked on his years of debauchery how unusual the connection they’d shared had been.

It seemed that time hadn’t changed that at all. She was fire in his arms, and he was incapable of denying his lust for her. But hadn’t that been his downfall the first time around? His inability to separate his emotions from the facts? Whatever he felt for Malinda, he had to remember who he was now, and the painful process he’d embarked upon to rid himself of such weaknesses in his personality. It shouldn’t be too difficult. He was nothing like his younger self and was known as a cold-blooded bastard. If Malinda thought to manipulate him, she’d soon learn her mistake.

He uncorked the brandy bottle and took a long slug. It would help ward off the pain of his injuries while he tried to get some sleep. He drew the covers over Malinda and climbed into bed beside her. It felt surprisingly right to sleep next to her. It always had. With a sigh, Benedict checked that his knife and pistol were close by and went to sleep.

“I
hope you don’t expect me to stay at Alford House.”

“As I don’t live there myself, it’s highly unlikely.” Benedict turned briefly to look at her as they waited for a heavily laden cart to pass across the junction. They’d left their weary horses at one of the many inns, and were continuing in a hackney cab.

London seemed twice as grim and three times as crowded since the last time she’d ventured into the city. Malinda hated the smells, the filth of the streets, and most of all, the beggars who hung around every corner or followed you, tugging at your skirt or sleeve. It wasn’t the beggars themselves she disliked—God knows, she could’ve easily become one herself—but the sheer number of them, and the sense that she’d never be able to help them all overwhelmed her.

“Do you have your own house?”

“I do. I also have lodgings at my place of business.”

“Otherwise known as the Sinners Club?”

He glanced at her again. “You seem remarkably well informed. Who told you about the Sinners?”

“I can’t quite remember. So you have an office there?”

“Yes.” He hesitated. “I also have a more ‘official’ place of work on Whitehall, but I tend to conduct most of my business from the Sinners.”

“Why is that?”

“Because most of the people I associate with have no wish to be seen anywhere near a government building. They prefer to remain anonymous.”

“That makes perfect sense. Where do you intend to leave me?”

“I’m not sure.”

“It’s most unlike you.” She studied his unsmiling profile. “To be so indecisive.”

“We’ll go to the Sinners first, and speak to my partner. I’m sure he’s been wondering where I’ve been.”

“Do you think he’s the one who sent those men?”

“It’s possible. But I thought you said they asked for you by name.”

“That’s true.” She frowned. “And he is hardly likely to know about me, is he?”

“You’d be surprised what Adam Fisher knows.”

Before she could ask him to explain that dry comment, the hackney drew up outside a very respectable-looking white-stucco town house in a pleasant square. Benedict stepped out of the cab and paid the driver before offering her his hand. They ascended the steps of the house together. The door was flung open by a liveried footman.

“Lord Keyes! Good morning, my lord!”

“Good morning.” Benedict kept moving. “Devil take it, I should have used the back entrance. I don’t wish to advertise my presence to the masses. Is Mr. Fisher in his office?”

“I’m sorry, my lord.” The footman looked crestfallen. “I was just surprised to see you. I’ll ask Mr. Maddon if Mr. Fisher is here.”

As he apologized, the servant tried to keep up with Benedict, who was walking rather too fast for Malinda’s comfort. Intrigued by her first glimpse of the inner workings of a gentlemen’s club, she tried to slow her steps so that she could take in the lofty ceilings, the dark-paneled walls, and the austere portraits.

Benedict didn’t alter his pace at all and swept her along, her arm tucked securely in his. The footman opened a door at the end of the long corridor and ushered them into a pleasant, well-lit room lined with bookshelves and a handsome walnut desk.

“I’ll bring you some refreshment, sir, and send Mr. Maddon to you at once.”

“Thank you.”

Malinda took a seat by the fire as Benedict paced the hearthrug, his hands folded behind his back, his expression inscrutable. Although the desk was piled high with documents and leather-covered books, there was a sense of emptiness about it. The fire was out and the desk so tidy that she had to imagine the occupant of the office was absent.

The door opened and a stately older man came in and bowed to Benedict.

“My lord, it’s a pleasure to have you back.” He gestured at the footman who hovered in the doorway behind him. “Bring in the refreshments, James.” He bowed again in Malinda’s direction. “I took the liberty of ordering some tea for you, ma’am. Cook will be sending up some cakes and other delicacies momentarily.”

“Thank you,” Malinda said.

“Where is Mr. Fisher, Maddon?” Benedict asked abruptly.

“I believe he has gone into the country, my lord.”

“Leaving the Sinners unattended?”

“Oh no, my lord. He established Mr. Lennox upstairs in the vacant apartment next to yours to oversee matters while he was gone.”

A muscle flicked in Benedict’s cheek. Gone was the charming man Malinda shared her bed with, replaced by an autocrat who reminded her all too forcibly of his father. She’d do well to remember that. The Marquis of Alford could be charming too. He’d certainly deceived her and her father.

“Do you wish me to open up your apartment, my lord? It will need airing and the fires haven’t been lit.” Maddon cleared his throat. “I must apologize. We were unsure of the expected date of your return.”

“No, we won’t stay here.” He accepted the cup of tea Malinda offered him with a curt nod. “As soon as Mr. Fisher returns, ask him to contact me at my other address.”

“I will do so, sir.” Maddon paused. “Do you intend to come in and oversee activities while Mr. Fisher is away? If so, I can inform Mr. Lennox that his help is no longer required.”

“I’ll definitely pop in and keep an eye on the place, but Mr. Lennox is welcome to be in charge for as long as he likes. And by the way, I don’t want him to know I’m back. In fact I’d rather we kept that information to the fewest number of people we can.”

“I understand perfectly, my lord.” Maddon paused. “There is an entertainment scheduled for the upcoming Friday—a troupe of exotic dancers from India. I don’t imagine you will need to be involved. Lady Westbrook has been coordinating affairs with the help of Mr. Lennox.”

“That’s fine by me, Maddon. You may, of course, inform her ladyship that I am back in Town. Naturally, if she wishes to speak to me, I am always at her disposal.”

In one indignant gulp, Malinda swallowed too much tea and scalded her lip. He’d said there was no other woman in his life. Yet, he professed undying loyalty to the unknown Lady Westbrook, who was obviously married, and presumably untroubled by that to inspire such devotion in the cold heart of Lord Keyes.

“Did you say something, my dear?”

She smiled sweetly at him. “I was merely blowing on my tea, my lord.”

The door opened again, and the footman returned with a tray of delicacies that he placed on the small table directly in front of Malinda. With a contented sigh, she ignored her former husband and helped herself to a plateful of beautifully prepared food.

“If that will be all, my lord?”

“For the moment, thank you, Maddon. Unless there is anything else you think I should know about?”

Maddon considered, his expression grave. “Most of the recent activity has centered around Mr. Lennox and the Dowager Countess of Storr.”

“I didn’t know there was a dowager countess. Isn’t that the title Jack’s in line for?” Benedict asked.

Malinda stopped chewing.

“I believe it is, sir. From what I understand from Mr. Theale, who has been doing some investigating for Mr. Lennox, there appears to be some confusion over whether the previous earl’s marriage was legal.”

“All the more reason to stay away from the Sinners until Jack sorts himself out. I have a suspicion he’ll manage it eventually, but he certainly won’t welcome my interference or advice.”

Maddon bowed to them both and withdrew, leaving Malinda staring at Benedict, whose mind appeared to be elsewhere.

“Jack Lennox?”

“Yes.”

“Is he by any chance related to the man who turned up on my doorstep a week or so ago?”

“Black-haired, blue-eyed, and persuasive enough to charm the birds from the trees?”

“That’s the one.” She glared at him. “So he
was
after you after all. But how did he know my name?”

Benedict glanced at the empty desk. “I suspect someone told him.”

“And how would Mr. Fisher come by that information?”

“That’s the part that’s worrying me. What exactly did Jack say to you?”

“He said that he was the personal secretary of a Mr. John Lennox, and that his solicitors were searching for a Malinda Keyes with news of a small legacy that was due to her. Am I to understand that Jack is actually his own employer?”

“Yes, I have no idea what that was all about.” He frowned. “But then, Jack has always enjoyed playing games.”

She put down her cup. “He did seem rather surprised that I was the woman he sought.”

“But he didn’t mention my name in conjunction with yours?”

“No.”

“I wonder what Adam told Jack to persuade him to visit Alford Park? Possibly some version of the truth that didn’t reveal our connection.”

“Perhaps it was a coincidence. Maybe there really is a legacy due to me.”

“How likely is that?” His narrowed blue gaze landed on her and stayed put. “Why all this sudden interest in you, my love?”

“Don’t call me that.” She scowled at him. “And as I said, I’m not supposed to set foot in England. That’s why.”

“According to my father’s wishes.”

“Yes.”

“Why would you do anything my father asked you to? You dislike him intensely.”

She met his gaze. “Perhaps that’s why I came back after all.”

He stared at her for so long that she had to drop her gaze and fiddle with her napkin and tea plate.

“Malinda, what aren’t you telling me?”

“I don’t know what you mean. I thought I’d explained. I came to you to stop your father forcing me from England again.”

“But why was it important for you to come back after all this time?”

She shrugged. “Doris needed a home, and I knew Alford Park would provide us with one if I could just keep out of your father’s orbit.”

That piece at least was true. She hoped he’d remember that after she was gone, and honor his promise to protect her family. “Are we not staying here, then?”

“I don’t believe it would be wise to advertise our presence in London too widely.” He leaned one elbow against the mantelpiece and stared down into the empty fireplace. “I do have another place for us to stay.”

“So you said.” She heaved an exaggerated sigh. “I suppose that means I won’t be invited to the entertainment on Friday.”

He looked up, a hint of amusement returning to his expression. “I can only apologize. Even in such a discreet environment, your presence would be noted, as would mine.”

“Is it usual for a gentlemen’s club to offer such scandalous . . . entertainment?”

“It’s not your usual type of club.”

“In what way?”

“It was founded by a married couple whose aim was to provide a safe haven and support for those who served the government and their nation in less public ways. Men and women who risked their lives extracting royalists from the French Terror, or who spied on Napoleon’s army. Those whose sacrifice was often immense and yet were left destitute or unrecognized by their nation.”

“That was a very praiseworthy endeavor. I can quite understand how you became involved in it.”

“You can?”

“You’ve always been an honorable man, my lord.”

“Don’t talk rot.”

She raised her eyebrows as he scowled at her. “I’ve known you since you were twelve. You were always honorable. For God’s sake, Benedict, you married me!”

“And that worked out so well that you ran away from me as fast as you could.”

“I didn’t run, I—” She rose to her feet. “Shouldn’t we be going?”

He stalked over to her. “You ran away from me, and now you’re trying to do exactly the same thing again.”

She shoved at his chest. “It’s not the same at all. You’re the one who said we shouldn’t stay here in case we were recognized!”

“You ran because my father gave you money.” He wrapped his hand around her throat. “He showed me the promissory note with your signature on it.”

She slowly raised her head to stare into his intimidating blue glare. “That’s not true.”

“Are you suggesting he lied to me?”

She wanted to look away, but there, deep within his gaze, was her friend, the person she’d hurt so desperately in her panic to escape.

“Benedict, I swear, he didn’t give me any money.”

His fingers tightened around her neck. “Then why did you run?”

“Because it was the only thing I could do for you,” she blurted out.

“What the devil does that mean?”

“I didn’t want to ruin the rest of your life with my pres-ence.”

“So that’s how he did it.” He briefly closed his eyes. “He played on your conscience, didn’t he? Suggested that I’d regretted marrying you and was desperate enough to ask him to help me find a way out.” He stepped away from her. “God damn him to hell.”

She took two unobtrusive steps toward the door. “He was right, though, wasn’t he? You didn’t ask me to stay. We’d never have survived society’s scrutiny.”

“Do you think I cared about that?” he demanded.

“I cared.” She met his gaze. “I think we should go now.” She turned toward the door. “Is there a less public exit?”

She didn’t wait for his reply, just turned toward the least ornate door that she guessed would lead into the servants’ domain. It opened onto a small stairway, beyond which was a maze of rooms and a hallway that led to what looked like a door to the outside.

He caught up with her in the corridor, his hand firm on her elbow, and pressed her back against the wall.

“You don’t know where you’re going.”

“I never do. But I always get where I want to in the end.”

She glared up at him and, with a stifled curse, he bent his head and kissed her until she had to kiss him back. When he finally raised his head, she was still trapped against him and very aware that he was aroused, his shaft hard against the softness of her belly.

“My father has a lot to answer for.” His breathing was as ragged as hers.

He had no idea
. She reached up and cupped his cheek. “He did what he thought was right. If it makes you feel any better, my mother was equally adamant that I should leave you. She was as horrified by our marriage as your father was.”

He turned his head so that his lips brushed her fingers. “They should not have interfered in a matter that was ours alone to resolve.”