The Bachelor Bargain (Secrets, Scandals, and Spies)

by Michaels, Maddison

  A laugh escaped him, but it was without humor. “My past is my present and my future. It is always with me and informs everything I do. And if you think the leader of the Lads is merciless, do you know what I did to the man who raped and murdered my mother, nearly eleven years ago to the day? The terrors I visited upon Edward Flintock for daring to defile my mother and then kill her?”

  The pit of her stomach fell. “I imagine you killed him in return.”

  “You would think so, wouldn’t you? But actually, I didn’t.”

  “You didn’t?”

  “No. He’s very much alive to this day,” he assured her. “Not the same man he once was, but alive, nonetheless. You see, after he did the things he did to my mother, I caught him. I beat him. I locked him in a basement. Then I went and fetched a doctor.”

  That didn’t really sound too terrible, but Livie could tell by the tense line of his shoulders that there was more to it than just that. “That was good of you…”

  He gave a bitter laugh. “I don’t think Flintock thinks it was so good. You see, I offered the doctor one thousand pounds if he could keep the man alive after I was done with him.”

  “Done with him?”

  “Yes, you see, I wanted to make an example of him.” Seb was staring beyond her, clearly seeing the man from his past. The man who had taken his mother from him. “And I wanted to make sure he could never do to another woman what he did to my mother. I wanted him to survive and serve as a reminder of what happens to those who hurt mine. First, I cut out his tongue. Then, I cut off his ears. Then both of his hands. And then finally, I cut off his dick.”

  Livie flinched at his words, but he wasn’t paying her any attention, staring off into the past as he was.

  “It took the doctor some time in between each infliction of an injury to cauterize the wounds and stabilize him before I could move on to the next area, and several times it looked like the man wouldn’t make it,” Seb said. “But the doctor had great incentive for him to survive, and he did. So now Edward Flintock is barely capable of surviving himself, let alone hurting anyone else. He begs every day out in front of a building in Mandago Street that I own. Alive, but no longer a threat to anyone, with no tongue to talk with, no penis to rape anyone with, and no hands to touch anyone with. I make certain he’s given enough supplies to get by on, in addition to the small change he makes begging.”

  “After what he did to your mother and then what you did to him, why would you help him survive?” Livie whispered.

  Seb shook himself, bringing his attention back to the here and now. “Why? Several reasons, actually. Firstly, death was too easy a punishment for him after the atrocities he did to my mother. He kidnapped her, then brutalized and raped her over and over again, until she was dead from her internal injuries, a battered and broken shell of the once vital woman she had been. And do you know the only reason he did all of that?”

  Livie shook her head, feeling sick to her stomach at what the poor woman must have suffered in her final moments.

  “Because he wanted to gain control over my territory and unseat me. And he thought using my mother would be the key to doing so, while also showing others he was even worse than the Bastard of Baker Street.” Taking in a breath he looked out the window. “I let him keep his eyes, only so he could have a daily reminder of what I did to him each and every time he looks in a mirror, and so he can see the looks of repulsion on the people who pass him by in the street.

  “His punishment also served a much larger purpose, and continues to do so; by allowing him to beg on one of the busiest streets in the Rookeries, I remind all who pass him every day, myself included, of just what I am capable of.”

  “You pass him every day?”

  “Yes. I get my carriage driver to travel past him as he begs on the corner of the street, on the way to my office each morning, so I, too, am reminded of what happened, and what it felt like to lose my mother. To have a constant reminder that loving someone is a weakness others can exploit. That is why I do what I do, Livie. It reminds me to never to let anyone too close.”

  Confusion swam in her head. She’d heard rumors of a man such as he described, though she’d never realized Sebastian had been the cause of the man’s injuries. “Have you done such a thing again?”

  “I haven’t had the need to.” Seb was staring at her, almost as if he were trying to see what was going on in her head. “Though I probably would have the other night, if I’d caught the man who took you.”

  Livie didn’t know how she felt about his revelation.

  “So, you see, I am not someone who can be reformed or changed.” He shrugged, though Livie got the sense he wasn’t anywhere near as blasé as he appeared. “I have done terrible things in my life, and though I believe they were justified, they were terrible, nonetheless. Do you still think we come from the same world, you and I? Do you think a duke, or an earl, could do anything even close to what I am capable of? To commit such violence against another?”

  Livie shook her head. “No. I doubt it.”

  “I don’t just doubt it,” Seb replied. “I know they couldn’t. Are you scared of me now? Of what I’m capable of doing?”

  “I think I am more scared for you,” Livie admitted. “And how you choose to keep punishing yourself for what happened to your mother, which was not your fault.”

  He rubbed his hand across his chin. “But do you not punish yourself, too, for your own mother’s death? Blame yourself?”

  Livie went to deny it, but she couldn’t. “I do. But at least I don’t push people away.”

  “But that is exactly what you do. What you have done for years.” He glanced down at her cane and leg. “You believe you’re not worthy of love or marriage because of your limp, don’t you? And because of that you’ve never let any man get close to you. Always on the offensive, happy to tell yourself they show no interest because of your limp. But the truth is you’ve always repelled them to keep your heart safe. Yet you let me get close to you last night. Do you want to know why you let me fuck you?”

  She gasped at his crudeness and how he was debasing what they’d shared. “Don’t presume to know why I did anything.”

  “You allowed me to fuck you,” he continued, “because I’m a safe choice. You know it’s impossible for us to marry, so you can have your fun with me without any consequences. You can protect your heart and maintain that air of aloofness you’ve perfected. Can you deny it?”

  “I…” She could feel the tightness rising in her throat and had to blink to hold the tears at bay. She would not give him the satisfaction of letting him know how his words were affecting her, like a dagger through her heart. Even if they were partially true. “I don’t know what last night was. But I do know it wasn’t so cut-and-dried as what you are making it out to be.”

  “Of course that’s how it was.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “And more the fool I am for allowing it.”

  “Allowing it?” A sense of anger rose within her. “You didn’t allow anything. I chose to give you my virginity. And do you want to know the true reason I did?” She took a deep breath and raised her chin. “Because, fool that I am, I’ve fallen in love with you.”

  “If you think yourself in love with me, then you are a fool.” His words were brimming with vehemence. “What you are feeling is lust. A feeling that will pass all too quickly.”

  “Don’t you dare presume to tell me what I am feeling!” Livie’s hands squeezed into fists. “I know what I am feeling, and as foolish as it may be, I love you, Sebastian. I love you, even though I know there can never be a future for us. I love you, knowing my heart will be broken by doing so.” She could already feel it starting to ache. “But at least I’m honest enough with myself to admit it.”

  “You are being hopelessly naive.”

  She pressed her lips together and nodded. “You’re right, I probably am. But bett
er to be hopelessly naive and to have loved and lost, than to never have loved at all. I may have kept most others at arm’s length, but not those I love and trust. Whereas you keep everyone away from you, refusing to trust or love anyone.”

  “I do that to keep people safe!” He yelled before dragging a hand through his hair. “My mother died because of me. She’d finally gotten her life together, had married a good man who loved and cared for her, she’d had a daughter in wedlock. But she lost all of that because of me. She died because of me.” His voice was a tortured whisper. “And if you continued to love me, you would die, too. I will not allow that to happen.”

  Then he turned on his heel and, without glancing back, strode down the corridor to the entranceway and out of sight.

  Livie did all she could to hold back the tears. She wouldn’t cry over him. She couldn’t, or she wouldn’t stop.

  Even if her heart was shattering into a thousand pieces.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  “What do you mean he’s gotten away again?” Seb said in a deadly whisper as he stood looking into the empty room down by the tavern at the docks some four hours after he’d left Livie.

  Four hours of replaying in his head the words she’d whispered to him that had caused him to break out in a cold sweat, every time he remembered her saying them… I’ve fallen in love with you. She obviously had no idea how dangerous love was, because if she knew, she never would have said that. She never would have risked the heartache such feelings inevitably caused.

  Not that she really could be in love with him. She was simply in lust, as he’d said.

  But there was time later to think about such things. Now he had to turn his attention back to where the hell this man was.

  The boy, whom Lance had tasked with keeping a watch from a distance on the Lads and their movements, was wringing his hands with an expression of terror plastered on his face. “I’m sorry, boss,” the boy stammered. “I got a note from Mr. Trantor.” His eyes flicked up to Lance, who was standing next to Seb. “It said I could go get some lunch. So, I did…”

  “I sent no goddamn note to you, boy,” Lance roared, as he grabbed the boy’s jacket and pushed him up against a wall. “Can you even read?”

  “N-n-no, sir,” the boy stammered. “But Minch can, and that’s what he said the note said.”

  “Put him down,” Seb directed Lance as his eyes turned to the man named Minch.

  After ten more minutes of questioning both Minch and the boy, it became clear that their two men had been duped. Minch had pulled out the note, which wasn’t in Lance’s handwriting, though neither Minch nor the boy had known that, but they’d happily gone along with the instruction saying they could take a break and have some tucker, even without any replacements to keep an eye on things.

  “He must have known we’d found him and were watching him,” Lance said once they had sent the two men on their way and were alone in the room where the Lads had been staying.

  Seb began to wander around the small space where his quarry had been only a short time ago. “Why the hell didn’t you and a couple of our men go in and grab the damn bastard and lock him up until I got here?” Lance had been his right-hand man for too long not to have thought of such a thing.

  “You left very specific instructions with Rowan that no one was to give away our presence, let alone touch the fellow until you arrived!” Lance fired back, squaring up to Sebastian. “Don’t you dare get angry with me for following instructions and doing exactly what you asked. Like I always damn well do ever since we were children!”

  “I also left specific instructions that we were to have eyes on him the whole time. Fuck!” Seb began to pace the edge of the room. “Where the devil could he be? Where would he go?” He pulled out his fob watch and glanced at the dial. “He’s got an hour’s head start on us. He could be bloody anywhere. And where the hell is Rowan?”

  “He’s chasing some leads as to where they could be headed,” Lance replied.

  …

  Five hours later, after chasing several fruitless leads, Seb stood pacing in his office alone, all his men, including his office clerks, sent out since this morning trying to track down any information on where the last of the Lads gang were now hiding.

  It shouldn’t have taken this long to track them down, not with Seb’s resources. They had to have a traitor in his organization, and when Seb found the bastard, he’d gut him for his treachery.

  At least Livie and his sister were safe. He’d just gotten off the phone to the man he’d left in charge of security at his estate, and all was fine, with the ladies having just had dinner and were now reading in the library. No signs of trouble. Thank goodness.

  For a moment, the last conversation he’d had with Livie flashed into his mind, and all he could hear was her telling him she loved him. A part of him had so desperately wanted to believe her. But, of course, deep in his heart he knew she didn’t actually love him. No one could love him knowing what he was capable of. She was in lust, that was all. And the sooner she realized that, the better for both of them.

  Just then Rowan and Lance ran through the door, both looking flushed and with sweat running down their foreheads.

  “I’ve received word,” Rowan panted. “The leader of the Lads and three of his men were spotted boarding a train about an hour ago. They were heading to Cambridge. He must know you’ve taken them to your estate.”

  “And I reckon he must also know you’re not there to protect them,” Lance added. “Otherwise, he wouldn’t have risked going and possibly having to confront you.”

  “Goddamnit!” Seb walked over and slammed his fist against the wall, causing a hole in the wall plaster. “He organized this. It was a trap to get me back to London.”

  “It looks like it,” Lance agreed. “I did think we’d found him too easily earlier, but he’d obviously put out word where he was, so we could. All in a ruse to lure you away from your estate and get Lady Olivia on her own.”

  “How did he even know she was there?” Rowan asked.

  “We’ve got a traitor in our midst,” Seb bluntly replied.

  …

  “You’ve been unusually quite all evening,” Demelza pronounced as she carefully settled herself on the settee beside Livie in the library. They’d all retired there after dinner, with Charlotte on the far side of the room, happily playing the pianoforte. “It wouldn’t have anything to do with Colver’s abrupt departure this morning?”

  Livie put down the book she’d been trying to read, and read being a very loose term for being unable to do anything but skim through the pages. “Why do you say that?”

  “My dear, it doesn’t take a fortune-teller to see that something transpired between you.” Demelza tapped her fingers on the end of her cane as she stared at Livie. “Are you going to tell me what happened?”

  Tell her what happened? How could she tell her godmother that she’d fallen in love with the most unsuitable man in the world for her? That he’d rebuffed her love. As much as she knew Demelza loved her, her aunt would never understand. Would be scandalized, in fact. But a part of Livie desperately wanted to tell someone, and Demelza was the next best thing to her mother. “I wouldn’t know where to start. Besides, you’d be shocked.”

  “I think you’d be surprised at my reaction.” Demelza reached across and patted Livie’s hand. “I was young once, too, my dear, and Sebastian Colver is a wickedly handsome man, regardless of his background. If I were your age, I’m sure he would have set my heart aflutter, as he’s done to yours.”

  “’Tis that obvious, is it?” Livie didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

  “I’ve known you since you were born.” Demelza squeezed her hand. “Of course it is obvious to me, for I was once head over heels in love, too.”

  “To the late duke?”

  “Good Lord, no,” Demelza exclaimed, before her eyes s
wung over to the window, staring out into the darkness beyond. “No. The man I gave my heart to was completely unsuitable. He was a groom in my father’s stables, you see.”

  The news shocked Livie. Demelza had never breathed a word of such a thing before.

  “Jacob Mallory was his name, and he was magnificent.” Her aunt sighed deeply. “So strong and handsome. He certainly turned my head. And I turned his.”

  It was hard to imagine anyone turning Demelza’s head; her aunt was so formidable and aloof. “What happened?”

  “Nothing, of course.” Demelza blinked and turned back to Livie. “What could happen? My father was an earl and Jacob was but a groom. Nothing could ever come of it, but still, knowing that, we fell in love. Jacob begged me to flee with him to America, to start a new life together. A life where our differences in social stature wouldn’t matter.”

  “You didn’t go with him.”

  “No. Instead I married a duke.”

  There was a sad smile on her aunt’s face, an expression Livie had never seen on her. “Do you regret it?”

  “Perhaps, sometimes,” her aunt allowed. “But in the end, I had to think of my family first. I couldn’t simply run away to America, as much as I perhaps wished to. Marrying a commoner, and a groom at that, would have ruined my family’s social standing, making them little more than pariahs. Besides, if I had let my heart lead me, I would never have seen your mother again, or been a part of your and your brothers’ lives.”

  “Surely things are different now,” Livie said. “Sebastian is no groom—”

  “No, he’s the King of the Rookeries,” Demelza interrupted. “A fact that will create far more of a scandal than if you were to run off with a groom.”

  “I’ve fallen in love with him,” Livie whispered.

  “I know you have, my dear. It’s written all over your face.” Demelza eyed her steadily. “But do have a care, Olivia. It is not just yourself who will be affected by the decision you make regarding Mr. Colver.”