I cannot be tempted by such a man.
“Now, speaking of the bedroom.” He picked the rope up off the floor and walked toward her.
“What are you going to do with that?” She backed away.
“Do not look at me like I am a demon.” He stopped walking. All trace of the humor that had been there before had vanished into sternness. “I am not such a man. It is late. You can sleep while I see to my patrons.”
He took her elbow and steered her back to the bed head.
As he began to tie her wrists against the wooden frame, her eyes shifted between him and the bed, realizing he was expecting her to sleep on his bed.
The whole idea was so intimate.
“Does this hurt?” he asked once the rope was tied.
She rearranged for a moment, testing the restraint.
“A little.”
“How about now?” He loosened the hold, earning her questioning gaze.
“That is better.” She sat on the bed, watching as he made to leave the room.
“Get some sleep, Miss Beckett. When you wake, your brother will be here.”
As he reached the doorway, she called out to him.
“My Lord?”
“Yes?” He hovered in the door, looking back at her.
Her eyes admired his figure again. He was so tall that he took up most of the doorway. His suit fit him well, flattering the broad shoulders and evidently toned waist. His legs were long, too, tapering down into fine black boots.
Still, those gray-blue eyes stared out. Strong with not a trace of evil in them.
How could such a man be a murderer?
She swallowed against the words she was going to ask him. “It does not matter.”
“Good night, Miss Beckett. As difficult as it may be, try to sleep.” With those words, he left, leaving her to look at her wrists in wonder against the bed head and replay the moment that he had loosened the rope.
He had loosened the rope to make sure I was not in pain. Why did he do that?
Chapter Six
“Why are you laughing, My Lord?” Pip asked as the two of them made their way down to the gaming rooms.
“I told her a lie. I said we had prostitutes here, and she believed me.” Alexander shook his head, scoffing as they entered the card room. Around them, patrons were already busy playing their games. “I can scarcely understand it, Pip. She truly believes me capable of such things!”
Her reaction had made him laugh, but he had found himself enticed by her again. That kiss he had wanted to repeat so badly as she stood by the mirror, making a mess of his cravat. He had conjured images of him tearing her own dress in such a way.
He shook the image from his mind.
He hated the profession of prostitution. In his business, he had, of course, encountered gaming halls that did have prostitutes – the situations that the women had been put in haunted him. It was disgusting enough that such women had been forced into their professions; he would not allow it to happen under his roof.
The Seven Sins Gaming Hall on the same road welcomed the profession, much to Alexander’s concern.
“What are we to do with her?” Pip asked as he handed Alexander a leather-bound book, illustrating who their patrons were that evening.
“I do not know. We will have to find some use for her – a way that she can repay the debt she now owes to me.”
“What could repay it, My Lord? She has ruined your reputation. All of your–”
“Yes, I know, Pip.” Alexander closed the book again. Most of his regulars were in attendance. He cast a glance around the room – there were men playing bridge, whist, and hearts, to name a few. “The first step is to fetch her brother.”
“The boy at her house?”
“Yes, you and Thomas can go now. I would like him here when she wakes up.”
“That is–” Pip appeared to be weighing up his thoughts.
“Pip,” Alexander looked at him with a small smile, “I would say you are tempted to speak out of turn again. You are making it a habit these days.”
“My apologies, My Lord, but may I?”
“Yes, you may.”
“Bringing her brother here is a risk. Is it not?”
“It is, but contrary to the woman’s opinion of me, I am not a monster. That boy has no one, Pip, only her. They have no servants and no other family. I do not like the idea of a lad as young as that waking without the one person who loves him nearby any more than she does.”
“I will go now. You said collecting the boy was the first step. What is the second?”
“Deciding what to do with Miss Beckett.” He looked back down at the leather-bound book as he thought aloud. “And persuade her that I am no killer.”
Cleopatra was struggling against her anger with overwhelming tiredness. Her body was exhausted from the day’s events and the shock of that evening.
Despite this, she still attempted to escape. Yet the Earl had tied the rope around her hands far too well. She considered again how the man had demonstrated his wish not to harm her. It unsettled her as she grappled with the ropes.
She soon abandoned her efforts. The knots were fastened too well for her to have any chance of escape, and she had heard the Earl lock the door when he left.
She kicked off her leather boots and pulled herself up properly onto the bed, relaxing back into the plush pillow and soft blankets.
She was admiring their comfort when she drifted to sleep. The last thoughts in her mind were of the Earl’s gray-blue eyes and the way he had kissed her, holding tightly to her waist.
In the early hours of the morning, Alexander returned to the bedroom. He had expected to find Miss Beckett still angry and trying to break free from her confines. Yet he found her sleeping peacefully on one side of the bed with her hands still fixed by the rope to the bed frame.
There was something both tranquil and disquieting about the sight. Her sleep gave him comfort, but the rope made his guilt rise again.
After locking the door, he hid the key somewhere she would not be able to find it and crossed the room toward her, allowing his gaze to analyze her closely. Now she was asleep, and he had the freedom to look at her without fear of being caught.
Why is it that such a beautiful woman could detest me so much?
His eyes traveled from the leather boots she had kicked off on the floor to her small feet wrapped in stockings and tucked under the edge of her petticoats. His eyes continued to wander up past her skirts to the petite figure accented by the corset and the curves of her body. The dark-green material flattered her coloring.
Her ebony hair had now completely fallen out of its updo, resting behind her in a crown of black curls. Her eyelashes were just as dark, framing eyes that were now closed. Her lips were peacefully pressed together, recalling to him their passionate kiss.
Whatever she says, she did return that kiss for a moment.
He considered her accusation against him as he watched her, thinking of what he would do himself if he were in her shoes. Had he lost a brother who was so deep in debt, he contemplated what his own actions would have been.
He loosened the cravat around his neck as he acknowledged he sympathized completely. Had he lost such a loved one as she had, he would also want revenge on the killer.
Yet, he was not responsible for the man’s death.
A new feeling bloomed in his stomach, one that surprised him. It was not only a desire to persuade her that he really was innocent of the crime but also a desire to see Miss Beckett have her justice on the real killer.
Suddenly feeling ashamed, he hurried to release her hands from the ropes. Gently he placed them down in front of her as she was curled on her side, relieved when she continued to breathe evenly and show no sign of waking.
He moved to the bottom of the bed and lifted a comforter that had been draped there. He covered her carefully, tucking the blanket around her form until she made a sound in her sleep.
He crept slowly away, rem
oving his jacket, cravat, waistcoat, and boots quietly, ensuring he would not wake her. He placed each one neatly in his wardrobe. Everything in his life had a place – he kept it all smart and tidy. Clutter could cause a mess all of its own, and he tended to avoid mess where he could. It was what helped him stay in control of two independent lives.
The thought of a mess drew his eyes back to Miss Beckett. He tried not to dwell on why he had covered her with the blanket.
It was to ward off the chill. That is all. She will be unable to repay me if she falls ill.
Determined that this was his answer, he moved to the other side of the bed and laid down in his loose cotton shirt and dark trousers.
He would attempt some sleep, even if he knew his dreams would be taunted by images of Miss Beckett’s dark eyes staring up at him in surprise from underneath him in that carriage.
Cleopatra blinked her eyes open to find sunlight streaming through the magnificent curtains. It took a minute to remember where she was when her gaze surveyed the space.
The windows were draped with rich teal curtains to cover their great expanse. There was a large fireplace, dominated with expensive marble and simple ornaments, including a gold clock that chimed on the hour.
At the thought of the bed, Cleopatra looked down to where she lay. There was a blanket draped over her, and her wrists were no longer bound to the bed head.
Did the Earl do this?
As the thought occurred to her, she looked back over her shoulder to see the Earl was asleep next to her.
The realization that she had slept next to the Earl made her want to scramble from the bed and run as far as possible.
It is so improper!
Yet the sight of his short dark hair tousled from sleep prevented her from moving. His face was at peace, not even disturbed by a twitch caused by dreams.
He was not properly dressed. Clad in just his long dark trousers and his loose cotton shirt that hung open, revealing part of his chest, Cleopatra felt the blush return to her cheeks again.
Her eyes traveled down the length of his body, admiring him.
She was just debating why he had released her hands, what possible motivation the murderer could have for being kind to her when he moved in his sleep.
It startled her; she was about to move away when his arm moved up around her waist. She gasped as she found herself pulled against him. He was embracing her in his sleep. She tried to breathe deeply, but she found it difficult to ignore all the places they were touching.
It was so improper, yet her body did not pull away. She was marveling at the strength of the muscle in his arm around her waist and the tone of his stomach behind her back.
You are such a fool, Cleopatra. Do not be distracted by him!
She chastised herself and began to move. She could not stay in this position. If anyone discovered that she had spent the night, then her reputation would be doomed. She had to escape his arms.
She attempted to sidle forward on the bed, but his arm merely tightened around her, preventing her from moving.
She tried to look at him by turning her head over her shoulder, but she could not quite see his face. His even breathing showed he was still fast asleep.
Cursing at herself for having to initiate a touch between them, she grasped the wrist in front of her and tried to lift his arm from her body. She managed to lift it but a few inches when he moved again. He brought the arm out of her hold and back against her waist, but this time his hand clutched her waist too, pulling her flat against his body.
“I will be up soon…” he appeared to be speaking in his sleep, mumbling something into her hair, “wait a little longer.”
His voice was deep with slumber. Cleopatra closed her eyes, trying to ward off the feeling the voice had caused, coupled with the tightness of his arm.
“My Lord?” She decided it was best to rouse him; she could not stay like this. “Trevor?” Her attempt at a sharp voice had come out much softer than intended.
Rather than wake and draw his hand away, his arm moved across her waist, his fingers softly caressed the dress and moved to her hip, holding her there.
She waited with bated breath – half demanding it would not explore her further, half wishing it would.
His fingers gripped tighter, holding her hip to him. It conjured more images to her mind of him clutching firmly to her hips.
“No!” She tried to jump away from his hold on the bed. The sudden movement must have woken him because his hand snapped away.
“What? What is it?”
She leaped from the bed, looking down at him with heavy breathing.
“That was entirely inappropriate!” She threw the words at him and ran for the door, pounding her stocking-clad feet against the floorboards and ignoring the loss of her leather boots. As she reached the door, she tried desperately to open it, but it was locked.
From behind her, there was a deep chuckle. She looked back to the bed, leaning on the door to see the Earl sitting up in bed with a sleepy smile on his face.
“Pray tell me what I did that was so inappropriate? I am afraid my hands must have moved in my sleep. A pity, I would have liked to have remembered it.”
“You should not have let your hands wander so!” Cleopatra turned back to the door and pulled frantically on the handle – but the door merely rattled in its frame, much to the Earl’s amusement.
“You did not think I would allow you to escape so easily, did you?” He laughed as he stood from the bed, earning her gaze again.
“How long do you intend to keep me here?”
“Until you repay the debt you now owe me.”
“I owe you no debt!”
“You do. You have ruined my life when I never harmed your precious brother. So yes, you owe me a great deal.” He moved to his wardrobe and the standing mirror. He carefully reset his shirt and searched for a fresh waistcoat from the wardrobe.
“I do not believe you.”
“Then you will stay here until I can persuade you.” He looked at her in the mirror with a new smirk as he buttoned up the blue waistcoat. It matched the color of his eyes.
It made her walk toward him. She was unsure why, yet she wanted to be nearer, the better to see that smile. It made her stomach lurch.
“What will you do with me while I am here?”
“We shall start with something simple. Breakfast!” He pulled a smart black jacket from his closet, finishing his outfit. “Now, I do not want to bind your hands again.”
He turned to look at her. She walked around him, taking his position by the mirror to reset her hair and straighten the creases in her dress.
“Promise me you will make no effort to escape.”
She closed her eyes for a moment, detesting making such a promise, yet she had little choice.
“I promise.”
“Good, then replace your boots and I shall take you to the dining room. There I have a suggestion for you – an arrangement that will help you to atone for destroying my life.”
“What would that be?”
“We shall eat first.”
Chapter Seven
Cleopatra stood at the side of the room as the food was served.
Trays covered with cloches were deposited on the table by servants, tea was prepared and left steaming in pots, and a loaf of freshly baked bread was placed in the center.
The Earl stood on the other side of the table, briefly talking to a young blond lad about business.
They exchanged a few papers before the boy, Pip, left with a nod, leaving the two of them alone as the servants filed out.
“Shall we?” the Earl gestured Cleopatra to a chair and held it out for her to sit.
“When it suits your purpose, you have quite the appearance of a gentleman.” She furrowed her brow, watching him warily as she took the seat he offered.
“That is because I am one.” He pushed the chair toward the table, whispering the words in her ear.
The sudden closeness made her
flinch her head away and desperately try to ignore the excitement he had caused.
The Earl stood to take the seat nearest to her, at a right angle to her own, either pretending to ignore her reaction or genuinely missing it.
“A gentleman? You own a gaming hall, My Lord. That is hardly the occupation of a gentleman.”
“According to who?” He lifted his eyebrows, staring at her with those gray-blue eyes and making her fall still again. “Allow me to assume something of you, My Lady, as you have so clearly made many assumptions about me. You have never entered a gaming hall, am I correct? You have certainly never attended mine.”
In Temptation and Damnation with the Earl: A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel Page 5
