The Bachelor Bargain (Secrets, Scandals, and Spies)

by Michaels, Maddison

  “And that is why you are not in charge, Lance,” Seb said. “You don’t think beyond what’s in front of you.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” Lance demanded, his jaws grinding tightly.

  “It means that of course I want to know if a gentleman is seeking to have a lady murdered.” Information like that was powerful. “If you’d seen beyond the mere request as to how we could use that knowledge to our advantage, then you would have shown initiative to lead, rather than merely follow.”

  “And if you weren’t so caught up with this Lady Olivia and her business, you would lead better, my friend. She’s having a weakening effect on you,” Lance retorted. “You’re becoming soft.”

  Seb’s lips pulled tightly at the corners. “Soft, am I? You’re welcome to challenge me, if that’s the case.” He was talking about leadership of the Baker Street Gang, which he was still in charge of, even though Lance did most of the coordinating of the gang itself as Seb was too busy focusing on his legitimate businesses. A fact he knew Lance sometimes resented.

  But if Lance wanted to challenge Seb, it would be a bare-knuckled fight until one of them was dead. There was no other way to assume leadership. “Well? What are you waiting for? If you disagree with my leadership, then challenge me.” His words were clipped and as cold as ice.

  “For God’s sake!” Rowan stood and strode over next to them. “Will the two of you stop this? We clearly have a problem with this Lads gang and we need to sort it out together, not fight with one another.”

  For a tense minute, neither Seb nor Lance backed down, but then Lance sighed and took a step back. “I’m sorry, I just haven’t seen you so interested in a woman before, especially one so far out of your reach. To be honest, it’s thrown me slightly.”

  “Well, you can rest assured I’m not trying to reach for her.” He, more than most, knew better than to dally with a lady. Even if thoughts of doing so had consumed him of late. “Rowan’s right, we need to focus on the threat.” He turned to Rowan. “Find out if Lady Olivia is the target, and, in the meantime, task three of our best men to keep watch on her and protect her. Tell them if even a scratch is to befall her, they will answer to me. And tell them to keep their distance; I don’t want to worry her or attract any unwanted attention. They will have to dress the part to be hanging out in Mayfair, too.”

  “I will see to it,” Rowan affirmed.

  “Also, if we don’t catch him sooner, ensure our men are in place to apprehend this McGinchy when he attends the boxing match on Thursday. I’ll be there myself, watching from my box.”

  Rowan nodded. “Consider it done.” He paused at the door. “You two aren’t going to kill each other if I leave, are you?”

  “Go.” Seb’s voice brooked no argument, and with hands held in the air, Rowan left. Seb glanced back to Lance, who was watching him carefully. “Your informant was either fed false information or purposefully assisted in trying to set me up.”

  “I know,” Lance said. “His information has been reliable up until this morning’s events, which is why I trusted the content of it. But don’t worry, he will pay for his mistake, and depending on whether it was accidental or deliberate, will dictate whether he pays with his life or just a good beating.”

  “Good. I don’t want to have to question the information I get from you ever again. Are we clear?”

  “Crystal.” Lance gave him a mock bow and sauntered out of the room.

  As Seb had told Livie, he couldn’t truly trust anyone, and he was beginning to suspect that that was true of Lance most of all.

  The thought was a truly disappointing one.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The next morning, when Livie made her way downstairs to the breakfast room, it was to be confronted by the unusual sight of her father, seated at the head of the table, with her three brothers standing and crowding around beside him. They were all intently looking down at the flyer her father was holding, with surprise and alarm in each of their expressions.

  “Have you seen this yet, Livie?” Justin, the youngest of the three but still older than Livie by two years, asked as he glanced toward her while she made her way over to them.

  “What is it?” she asked, her cane swinging along next to her as she came to stand beside them.

  “Something that is causing quite the stir,” her father answered, holding out the paper to her, his weathered hand sure and steady. “A pamphlet warning the bachelors in Society to beware.”

  Trying to contain the excitement coursing through her, Livie took the paper from him and stared down at the bold print.

  Bachelors beware.

  No longer shall your vices and follies remain unknown.

  No longer shall your prospective fiancées be forced to wed you in ignorance. The Bachelor Bounty Gazette will be released in a fortnight and will critique three of you each month, listing in detail your deficiencies and failings.

  For those who keep secrets and prey on the weak and innocent, you will be exposed, with all of your dirty little secrets laid bare to one and all.

  No longer will you be able to stay hidden behind your titles or family connections. If you dare to trifle with the affections of young ladies with no thought to the consequences, take heed of this warning, for in ruining a young lady, you will guarantee your own destruction.

  Bachelors, you have been warned…”

  Elation filled her with the words. She hadn’t had a chance to actually see the pamphlet before their runners collected it yesterday and began to distribute it, but it was just perfect, striking the right chord between warning and threat.

  Etta was a genius with words. An absolute genius, for if this didn’t scare all of the scoundrels out there, Livie didn’t know what would. “This is marvelous!” She glanced toward her family, noting the expressions of consternation on their faces. “What? You don’t agree?”

  “Are you serious, Livie?” her eldest brother Alexander exclaimed, his blue eyes narrowing as he peered at her in undisguised stupefaction as he stalked over to a chair and sat down to her father’s right. “This…gazette thing, is going to be nothing more than a gossip rag, seeking to disparage many of us with lies and nonsense.”

  “That is not true, Alex!” Livie defended as she took the spare seat across from him. “It clearly states it will target only men who seek to hurt or use innocent ladies.”

  “Well, we don’t know who they’re seeking to target first, do we?” her middle brother, Griffith, spoke as both he and Justin sat, too.

  “Indeed,” Justin added. “It could even be one of us who’s critiqued, couldn’t it? And such a thing would ruin my career prospects, not to mention taint all of you.”

  “Exactly!” Alex nodded his head. “No one knows who is to be targeted.”

  “And that worries you all, does it?” Livie asked, eyeing them as she raised her coffee cup while the footman brought over the coffeepot.

  “It would worry any man, my dear,” her father said as he, too, raised his cup for a refill.

  “It should worry only those who are scoundrels, should it not?” Livie turned to her father. “I think it is well overdue that men are held to account for their actions when it comes to ruining young ladies.”

  “If this gazette reports the truth of things, then yes, I agree,” her father conceded. “But as Alexander said, who knows what they will report?”

  “I’m certain it shall be the truth,” Livie declared.

  “You’re always far too optimistic for your own good, sister,” Alex said, shaking his head.

  “And you, brother,” Livie countered, “are always far too pessimistic.”

  Alexander was the brother with whom she either got along well or had the worst fights with. And inevitably, if they fought, it was based on their diametrically opposed beliefs of the good in others. Livie tried to always see the best in people, whereas
Alex could only ever see the worst.

  “In any event,” her father spoke. “I daresay it will be an interesting fortnight until the thing is published, while Society has a grand old time speculating about who will be the first three bachelors to be critiqued.”

  “I’m looking forward to such speculation.” Livie took a sip of her coffee and relished the very idea. “It’s about time Society starts to gossip about the gentlemen instead of the ladies. And brothers, you should have nothing to fear, unless of course you have ruined any innocent young ladies in your past.” She pointedly looked across the table at the three of them, who all shook their heads vehemently with denials springing from their mouths like a tap.

  She was somewhat amused at the look of displeasure in all three of their handsome faces. Sitting there, frowning, they all looked very much like their father, even if their temperaments were nothing alike at all.

  Alexander, being the eldest, was the epitome of what a future duke should be; refined, conservative, and very traditional when it came to certain things. Livie had expected him to be somewhat critical of the gazette, along with her father, as they were very similar in nature. But Griff and Justin were completely opposite, as both were much more lighthearted and enjoyed a good laugh.

  Griff was particularly carefree, with a reputation for being a dashing flirt with the ladies and extremely gifted at games of chance, much to her father and Alexander’s displeasure.

  Justin, on the other hand, was the more studious of the two, with a desire to become a doctor and help others. Which is why he’d been pursuing a career in medicine, and by all accounts would make a fine doctor when he graduated at the end of the year.

  Her father, and Alex of course, had initially been resistant to the idea of having a doctor in the family. It wasn’t usually done for a duke’s son to go into such an occupation, but Justin had convinced them of his passion for such an endeavor and when he’d also gotten their godmother’s approval, there was little resistance left in either her father or Alex. After all, though her father and brother would happily stand up to anyone in Society, Aunt Demelza was an entirely different story.

  “Well, let us hope you are correct and they do list only those who are scoundrels,” Griff said. “For I have my doubts, because who knows what sort of story and lies a new publication, and I do use the term loosely, will conjure up to ensure sales?”

  “They’re bound to,” Justin declared. “They won’t be able to help themselves.”

  “Shall we place a wager on it then?” The idea came to Livie in a flash, and she could see the interest in all of her brothers’ eyes at the notion. “If you’re all so certain the gazette will lie.”

  “Go on,” Griff said.

  Livie thought for a second. “How about, if any details about the men the publication critiques are proven to be lies, then I will ensure Aunt Demelza never tries to play matchmaker for any of you again.”

  Keen interest radiated from them.

  “You could do that?” Justin’s interest turned to suspicion. “How? You know our godmother is determined to see us married.”

  “Contrary to our wishes,” Griff added.

  “Leave the hows to me,” Livie placated. “Just know I will do it if I lose.”

  “And what if we’re wrong?” Alex spoke up. “What if we lose the bet?”

  “If it is as I claim, and the gazette critiques only true scoundrels, publishing the truth instead of lies, then you, my brothers, will attend three balls of my choosing and dance every dance with all of the poor wallflowers littered around the room, all but forgotten. You will ensure not one young lady goes without a dance from each of you. Oh, and you will extol the virtues of the gazette while you dance with the ladies.”

  “What? No!”

  “That will be torture.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  She couldn’t tell who said what, as all three of her brothers’ voices exclaimed over the top of one another. “Good gracious, what is so wrong with dancing with some ladies while praising a publication if it does expose scoundrels?”

  “You know perfectly well, if we ask them to dance, their mothers will already be planning their weddings with us,” Griff grumbled.

  “And we’ll forever be bombarded at every single ball thereafter,” Justin added. “We’ll never get a moment’s peace.”

  “Why the hell do you seem to think this gazette is going to be so wonderful?” Alexander narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “What do you know that we don’t?”

  “Nothing, dear brother. It is as you said, I am an optimist.” She did have fun throwing his own words back at him. “Well, brothers? Are you prepared to put your money where your mouths are? Do we have a wager?”

  Reluctantly all three nodded.

  “Excellent!” she declared before reaching across and grabbing a triangle of toast with one hand, and her cane with the other as she stood. “Now if you will excuse me, I am off to visit with Lady Chilton today.” She was also going to pay a visit first to the new warehouse housing the gazette, the address she’d received via a note delivered yesterday afternoon. But such a visit her family had no need of knowing about.

  “Alice’s sister?” Justin asked.

  “Yes.” Finally, Alice’s sister had relented and agreed to see her again, after their somewhat terse visit a fortnight ago. “I suggest you boys get your dance cards ready for you shall be needing them shortly.” And with that she strolled from the room, cane in hand, while whispers of her brothers’ grumbles followed her down the corridor.

  Today was promising to be a very good day indeed.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Livie strode up the steps to Lady Chilton’s town house and rang the bell. From the corner of her eye, she could still see the three men whom she’d first noticed yesterday out the front of her house trying to appear unobtrusive, dressed like gentlemen, their bearing suggesting they were anything but. They were too big and strong and their hands too rough.

  And now here they were again, this time keeping watch on her down the adjacent alley. They’d followed her from her house to the new warehouse and had still been loitering down the street when she’d emerged half an hour later.

  Sebastian had obviously sent them to keep an eye on her, as she recognized one from his office earlier in the week. The man could have sent a note, of course, and advised her of the fact. Rather inconsiderate of him not to, especially as he’d had ample opportunity in the note he’d sent with the warehouse’s location.

  Men really didn’t think sometimes.

  The door opened, and Lady Chilton’s butler appeared. “My lady,” he acknowledged. “The countess is expecting you.”

  Livie returned her attention to the purpose of her visit. She’d sent a note to Alice’s sister yesterday, begging for another opportunity to discuss trying to discover the scoundrel who had ruined Alice, but she really hadn’t expected an answer back from the lady. Especially not after how their last visit had gone, a fortnight past, when Livie had first broached the topic of finding the man responsible for Alice’s demise.

  The countess hadn’t been at all receptive to such a suggestion, and then when Livie had mentioned she thought Alice had been murdered by the fiend and she intended to unmask him, Lady Chilton hadn’t been impressed, to say the least. She’d cut short the visit, without assisting Livie in the slightest, declaring Livie should not further risk damaging her dead sister’s reputation, and she should let Alice rest in peace.

  Which was the problem. Livie didn’t believe Alice would rest in peace until the villain was found and exposed. But to do so she needed the guest list of those who attended the house party Lady Chilton had hosted at her country estate three months earlier. The party where Alice had been seduced and started her liaison with whomever the man was.

  She needed Lady Chilton’s cooperation, because not having that list was makin
g the task of narrowing down the suspects extremely difficult. And it was important to Livie to expose him in the very first edition of the gazette.

  Following the butler through the entrance hall and down the corridor to the sitting room, Livie could only hope that perhaps after thinking upon it, Lady Chilton had changed her mind, even if Livie couldn’t quite imagine a lady of such firm and rigid convictions doing so.

  As they passed a mirror hanging on one of the walls, Livie got a quick glimpse of herself. She didn’t look any different after being kissed senseless only a day ago. She’d rather thought she might…

  Goodness, that kiss. She’d been able to think of little else except his lips upon hers. It had been exquisite and thrilling. And she couldn’t help but want more.

  Did that make her a wanton? Is this what Alice had felt when she’d first kissed her scoundrel? Had a kiss been the start of Alice’s demise?

  The butler walked in ahead of her and announced her name before turning and ushering her inside. Elegantly seated on a red velvet settee in the middle of the ornate sitting room was Alice’s sister, Lady Chilton. The woman was around eight years older than the girls themselves, so they’d had little to do with each other over the years. Not to mention that Livie found Lady Chilton to be rather pompous, particularly as the lady was so vocal about the proprieties being upheld and subsequently was very critical over Alice’s friendship with Etta, whose father was “in trade” as Lady Chilton despairingly called it.

  To say that Alice and her sister had been as different as night and day was somewhat understating the matter. Probably why Livie hadn’t had much to do with Lady Chilton in the first place.

  Lady Chilton’s butler bowed to them both before retreating, closing the door firmly behind him and leaving the two ladies alone.