In Temptation and Damnation with the Earl: A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Violet Hamers

  “Oh, he did.” Demian nodded with a small laugh. “Sadly, I have no wish to marry. So, when he could offer nothing else as collateral, I had to threaten his life.”

  “So, you took his life from him?” Cleopatra looked down at her lap. The man disgusted her. “You thought he was dispensable?”

  She had never known such hatred. Had her hands been free from their restraints, she would have clawed at him, thrown her body at him in anger, and in need of revenge.

  The pistol was pushed into her neck, forcing her to lift her head.

  “Do not judge me, My Lady.”

  She glared at him, committing to memory the face of her brother’s murderer.

  “Put the pistol down, Demian,” Alexander took another step forward, urging him to press hard with the weapon. “I will give you anything you want, just release Cleopatra.”

  Seeing his face in such emotional pain had Cleopatra straining against the rope.

  “It is not really about her,” Demian shrugged. Alexander’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, not following the conversation.

  “If it is not about Cleopatra, then what is it about?”

  “I want to see you ruined, Alexander,” Demian declared with triumph. Alexander opened his mouth and closed it again, grappling for words.

  “Ruined?”

  “That is right, so here is the first step. Your money, or your wife,” he moved his finger to the trigger.

  Cleopatra stiffened in her seat.

  “No! I’ll give you the money!” Alexander called with such force; his face was turning red. “I will give you every penny I have, just let her go.”

  Demian laughed. The sound was hollow.

  Cleopatra’s eyes flicked to Alexander, realizing what he was prepared to give up in order to keep her safe.

  “Did you know my Father always preferred you?” Demian turned the pistol toward Alexander; the action was wild, gesturing with it as though it were an extension of his hand and not a weapon.

  “Your Father was the best of men.” Alexander held out both hands, trying to placate him again.

  “Oh, how he would talk of you. Constantly tell me how you were the more intelligent one. You were not even his blood!”

  Cleopatra could see the confusion in Alexander’s face, he shook his head, struggling for words.

  “I looked up to your Father as though we were family. We grew up like brothers, Demian. Why do you hate me so?”

  “Because you were his favorite!” The cry tore through the air, leaving an empty silence after it. “He even said it on his deathbed, did you know that? Asked me why I could not be more like you.”

  “I never meant for you–”

  “Be quiet.” Demian turned the pistol back to Cleopatra. Alexander fell silent at the order. “He was thinking of giving you the Seven Sins rather than me, did you know that?” Demian paused, waiting for an answer. Alexander shook his head. “Then it turned out you were an Earl.”

  He scoffed at the word, drawing out the syllable as though it tasted foul in his mouth. “Of course, the cherished boy would have such a fortune. Your good fortune fell into your lap.”

  “It was not like–”

  “I said be quiet!” Demian barked again. “Then you opened another hall in direct competition?”

  “It was not competition. I told Marcus I was going to open a hall myself one day.”

  “He loved that,” Demian pressed the pistol to the top of Cleopatra’s neck. Her breathing grew short and quick. It was a slow movement, more deliberate than his others. “You took everything from me. So,” he turned his eyes down to her, “maybe I could take everything from you too.”

  “No, Demian, listen to me–”

  “Cleopatra?” The voice astonished Cleopatra. She flicked her eyes round to see the doorway behind Alexander.

  It was John, speckled with ash across his cheeks and clothes. His small eyes were looking between the three of them.

  “John?” her voice was but a whimper. She had already lost one brother to the madman beside her, and now her other brother was in the room with him. Despair grew in her chest.

  “Boy, I told you not to come back here.” Demian lifted the pistol from her neck. The revelation that Demian knew John had both Cleopatra and Alexander looking around in wonder.

  “But…that is my sister.” John stepped forward, tears pooling in his eyes. “What are you doing to her, Demian?”

  “What did you do to my Brother?” Cleopatra snapped up to Demian. He ignored her. He moved the pistol and pointed at John.

  No! Not John!

  “Leave, Boy, or I shoot.”

  Fear leaped into the boy’s face.

  “No!” At Cleopatra’s cry of terror, Alexander moved. He stood between Demian and John.

  “Step to the side, Alexander,” Demian ordered, gesturing with the pistol.

  “Never.” Alexander shook his head. John had his hands in the back of his jacket, hiding behind him. “I will not let you harm a single hair on the boy’s head, Demian. So, you will just have to shoot me instead. Will that not make you happy? Your anger is with me after all, not them.”

  “That is not what I had in mind,” Demian smiled. “How about your wife, then?” He turned the pistol back to Cleopatra.

  “I will give you anything, just do not harm her!” Alexander cried loudly. Cleopatra winced at the force of the pistol against her temple. Her eyes were so squinted; she barely saw the small form of John as he dashed out from behind Alexander. “John, stay back!”

  Yet it was too late. John dived toward Demian with a roar of anger. Alexander leaped forward behind him, trying to catch up. Demian turned the pistol toward them, down at John.

  “No!” Cleopatra screamed the word, seeing the two people she loved running toward a pistol.

  I love them both.

  Demian fired.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  As John tackled Demian’s leg, Alexander got hold of Demian’s wrist and the pistol went off. He had forced it down to the floor, away from John – the bullet landed in the floorboards beneath their feet, splintering the wood.

  Demian was fighting against Alexander, trying to pull his hand clear and point the pistol toward him. Alexander forced him backward, pushing him away from John and from his Cleopatra.

  He bent Demian’s wrist back so far that he cried out, dropping the weapon to the floor. With one punch to Demian’s face, he fell on the ground – his head struck the wood, and he was knocked out, completely unconscious.

  The sound of people running reached Alexander’s ears. He grabbed the pistol from the floor and pointed it toward the doorway just as the butler and another of Demian’s staff appeared there.

  “Stop!” he shouted.

  They both fell stopped, not daring to step forward.

  He breathed heavily as his eyes turned to Cleopatra and John. The boy was releasing her hands; there were tears on his cheeks as he mumbled something.

  “John, come here,” as her hands and body were freed, she knelt to the floor and beckoned him to her. The boy collapsed into her arms.

  The butler in the doorway shifted on his feet. Alexander walked toward them, still bearing the pistol.

  “Do not move. Demian will be reported to the constable for this. He will see his days out in prison or at the end of the noose. Do you want to join him?” To his words, both men took a step back.

  “Cleopatra, I am so sorry, it was me,” John managed to say through gasping cries.

  “I am so glad you are safe.” Cleopatra was holding the boy to her chest, brushing his dark hair. Her arms bound him tightly to her, as though she would never release him again.

  “It was me. I did it.”

  “I do not understand, what did you do, dearest?” Cleopatra reared back enough from their embrace to look in John’s eyes, her hands cupping the boy’s cheeks as her fingers tried to wipe the tears away.

  “I started the fire. He made me do it.” He pointed down at Demian on the fl
oor.

  “You did?” Cleopatra’s eyes were wide. She looked up to Alexander and then back down to John.

  Alexander watched them with confusion, noting how they both had ash on their clothes and in their hair.

  “What fire?” he asked, but they did not listen.

  “Dearest, why would you start the fire?” Cleopatra asked.

  “Demian took me.” John was crying, his little gasps loud in the room. “He said if I set fire to the Wicked Souls that you and I could go home. That you could get away from him,” he pointed to Alexander.

  Alexander felt his hold on the pistol loosen.

  The Wicked Souls is on fire.

  Alexander felt empty. He stood before the carcass of the Wicked Souls building. The fire had been put out, but all that remained was black plaster, burned furniture and broken pieces of wood from the walls and flooring.

  It’s gone.

  Behind them, the fire cart was being packed away. Buckets were being recalled by the owners of neighbors and people stood looking at what remained of the blackened building.

  Beside him, Cleopatra was holding tightly to John. To Alexander’s surprise, John’s other hand was pulling on his trouser leg. He looked down at the boy.

  “Yes, John?”

  “I am sorry,” the boy said, with fresh tears spilling across his cheeks.

  “I know,” Alexander nodded and patted the lad’s head, offering comfort as he returned his gaze to the destroyed building. “It is not your fault, John. It was Demian’s.”

  Alexander was devastated. He had lost the very heart of his existence for so many years.

  He had put so much work into the building, toiled just as Marcus had taught him to do in order to make the place prosper, and yet in one evening, all of that was gone.

  He rubbed at his face, wishing he could push away the pain, but the two people stood beside him stopped him from despairing too much. A few minutes ago, he had been convinced that he was going to lose them both.

  I could have lost Cleopatra.

  That would have been unbearable.

  “My Lord?” Pip appeared at his side. The boy was covered in ash.

  “Pip! Thank God, are you well? You are not hurt.” Alexander took the lad’s shoulders, checking him over.

  “I am fine, My Lord. I helped to put the fire out.”

  “Thank the Lord.” He embraced the boy briefly, too relieved to care for propriety. “No one is hurt? Please tell me that.”

  “Everyone is safe,” Pip stepped back with a nod. “What has happened to you?” He gestured to the three of them.

  “I have a story to tell you,” Alexander shook his head. “But our old friend Demian from the Seven Sins is to be arrested.”

  “Arrested? So, he sent that note?”

  “He did.” Alexander looked back to Cleopatra.

  She was watching him, her dark eyes wide with wonder. He wanted her to be in his arms, to know for certain she was safe.

  “Then, correct me if I am wrong, My Lord, but…” Pip’s pause drew Alexander back to look at him, “can you buy the Seven Sins now?”

  Alexander looked back down the road to where the Seven Sins was.

  His own gaming hall was destroyed beyond repair, it could never be saved, only demolished, yet perhaps now he had the chance to do what he and Marcus had always wanted.

  He could save the Seven Sins, make it what it was once again under Marcus’ ownership.

  “I guess I can.” He looked back to Pip with a smile. “Pip, would you fetch the Constable? I must see to Demian’s arrest first.”

  As Pip hurried down the road, Alexander grew aware of John murmuring something behind him to Cleopatra. He turned around to find her crouching before him. He stepped forward to listen in.

  “I wanted to save you,” John was saying as he stopped his tears, “from him.” He pointed at Alexander. “But I failed.”

  The words made Alexander feel as though the boy had cast a stone at his stomach. He did not blame John for his thoughts; to his eyes, it must have truly looked as though he had stolen Cleopatra from him.

  Cleopatra looked up to Alexander and back down at the boy.

  “John, that is foolish–”

  Before Cleopatra could finish, Alexander interrupted, moving closer to her side.

  “You are free of me, if you wish it.” His words created a new hole in his chest, but he clenched his fists together, determined to get through the words.

  Cleopatra snapped her head toward him and stood straight again, looking away from John.

  “What do you mean?” she asked, a note of panic in her voice.

  “As John knows,” he looked down at the boy, trying to swallow past his pain. “In a way, I took you from him.” He returned his eyes to her, haunted by the idea that he might not be able to see her beautiful face again.

  The dark features struck him again, too tantalizing in their regal beauty. “If you want to, the two of you are free to return home. You are free of me.”

  Cleopatra smiled. It gutted him.

  She is going to leave me.

  “I do not want to be free of you,” she smiled even more. Alexander unclenched his fists, too confused to answer. “I am in love with you.”

  His face broke into his own smile, her words lighting up a part of him he did not know existed.

  “You are?” he stepped closer her, taking her hands in his.

  “I do. I do not want to leave you.” She shook her head firmly. “I want to stay with you.”

  “Even bearing in mind the manner of our meeting?” He laughed, moving his hands from hers to around her waist, pulling her toward him.

  “Even with that,” she giggled, holding tightly to the lapels of his jacket. “Are you prepared to put up with me?” She teased with raised eyebrows. “I can be rather stubborn at times and I did sell your secrets to the newspapers.”

  “Put up with you?” He chuckled, lowering his lips toward hers. “In case you have not noticed, Cleopatra. I adore you.”

  “You do?” Her dark eyes switched between his, luring him in even more.

  “When Demian was holding that pistol to you…” he struggled for the words to describe just what he had felt, but he had none that could do justice to the depth of his fear, “I felt as though I had died myself.”

  He was about to kiss her, he was impossibly drawn to her, needing to feel her lips against his, but to their side, John was clearing his throat.

  Alexander looked away from Cleopatra, down to John, who did not look pleased.

  “Well, I have an idea.” He released his arms from Cleopatra with a wink for her that only she could see and crouched down to John’s level. “Perhaps you and I should start again, John. What do you say? I am your new brother now after all.”

  He extended a hand to the boy, ready to shake.

  John looked at him with suspicion, his dark eyes looking at the hand for a moment.

  “Very well,” the boy said finally and placed his hand in his. “If we are to start again, then, good evening, I am John Beckett.”

  “Good evening, John. I am Alexander Trevor, Earl of Larson.”

  As they shook hands, he lifted his eyes up to Cleopatra to see there were unshed tears of happiness in her eyes.

  “Well, John. First things first, I think we all need to go home to clean up, but after that, there is someone I would like you to meet.”

  Epilogue

  Cleopatra was holding tightly to John’s hands as she drew him into the west wing rooms. John was frowning from beside her, his confusion and intrigue apparent.

  “John, this is Allina.” Cleopatra released John’s hand and urged him to step forward as Allina rushed in; she was skipping, showing her excitement. “Allina, Dear,” Cleopatra stepped toward her. “I would like you to meet my brother, this is John.”

  “Hello, John,” Allina waved excitedly, “will you be living with us?”

  Cleopatra watched as Alexander came to stand behind her. He slid
an arm around her waist; the move had her leaning into him, too excited to be very far away from him.

  John’s face was slightly nervous as he nodded.

  “Do you like games? I do hope so.” Allina clapped her hands in front of her. This exclamation had John nodding eagerly.