Stolen Kisses

by Suzanne Enoch

  “You what?” Richard gasped, his fair complexion going even paler.

  Jack nodded. “And stripped him naked. And left the bottle of wine in his hand.”

  “Good God.” Richard looked over his shoulder as though to make certain they were not being overheard. “Did you kill him as well, then?”

  Jack eyed his companion, then glanced away. “No—but I suppose I deserve that. Let me start from the beginning.”

  “Yes,” Lord Hutton agreed faintly, “please do.”

  “Dolph Remdale lost to me at hazard, couldn’t pay, and offered up a diamond pin to cover his wager. I took the bauble, though I suspected it wasn’t his to give. So I made certain Wenford then saw me with it. He agreed to make good on it so he could get it back.”

  “I recall hearing about a bellowing match between the two of you a few weeks ago,” Richard said. “Just for once, you might attempt to handle things in a conventional manner.”

  Jack shrugged. “At any rate, Dolph came by the next morning, we traded insults and the pin, and he swore he’d ruin me. I was rather hoping he’d call me out, but the coward didn’t take the bait.”

  “That was wise of him,” the baron commented, “considering your history of dueling and his future as the Duke of Wenford.”

  “Yes, I’m getting to that. A few nights later, I was at White’s when Wenford came by to make amends. Still feeling rather aggrieved at His Grace, I offered him a bottle of port from my private stock, rather than my hand. Early the next morning I went to the Bentons’. I had…left my gloves there. Wenford had gone there just ahead of me to see Lilith, and expired on her floor in the midst of proposing to her.”

  He hoped Richard would swallow the slightly skewed tale. In the past, Jack would have been highly amused to relate the entire sordid incident. But not where Lilith was concerned.

  “And for some perfectly valid reason you are about to explain to me, you didn’t go to the law, and you didn’t inform me,” his companion grunted.

  “Lil was there alone. I was completely at sea, and decided to save her from the scandal Wenford’s death would cause her.” He looked sideways at Lord Hutton. “And you and I aren’t speaking, so I would hardly have come here.”

  “Ah.”

  “Therefore, I took charge of the remains and disposed of them as I saw fit—and in a manner which everyone in London has by now discussed in detail.”

  “If I may ask a question?”

  Jack nodded.

  “If you and I still aren’t speaking, then why are you here now?”

  Jack was accustomed to keeping things to himself, either solving or ignoring his own problems. Coming out and explaining himself and his circumstance was supremely difficult. He took a breath. This was his first, last, best, and only chance to have Lilith for himself. “I came to ask for your help, Richard.”

  “Why, did you kill another peer and need another convenient cellar to dump him in?”

  With some difficulty he ignored Lord Hutton’s sarcasm. “As we were removing Wenford from the Bentons’ floor, Lil dropped an earring. Dolph found it with Old Hatchet Face’s remains in his cellar.”

  Richard’s brow furrowed. “I haven’t heard any such thing.”

  Jack nodded. “That’s because the only one Wenford’s shown it to is Lilith, to force her to wed him.” The baron would have interrupted, but Jack raised a hand. “It strikes me as rather odd that a man who’s hell-bent on claiming his uncle has been murdered would manufacture a bottle of port, and then hide the one true piece of evidence of possible foul play.”

  Richard’s expression sharpened. “What do you mean, he ‘manufactured’ the bottle of port? You said you gave it to Wenford.”

  “I gave Old Hatchet Face a bottle of port. Not the one found in his study.”

  “And you know this is an entirely different bottle because…”

  “Because when I broke into His Grace’s study the night before his body was discovered, the bottle wasn’t there. I don’t think Wenford even returned home between White’s and calling on Lilith. More likely, he trundled off to his nephew’s and informed him that he was going to marry Lil and get a son, and would no longer be paying Dolph’s gambling debts.”

  “You broke into…” Richard trailed off and shook his head. “I don’t even want to know.” He bowed his head, turning the trowel absently in his hands. “You think Dolph killed Wenford, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  Slowly Richard blew out his breath. “You’re going to have the devil of a time proving anything. It will be Wenford’s word against yours. And you most definitely have the more spotty reputation.”

  “Thank you,” Jack replied caustically. “I’m already aware of that. Do you have any more helpful ideas?”

  “Considering what I heard this morning, I’m not certain there’s anything that can be done.”

  Something in Richard’s expression warned Jack that he wouldn’t like what was coming. “And what did you hear, pray tell?”

  “That the port remaining in the bottle in question was tested on a handful of rats. They died.”

  “So Dolph put arsenic in a damned bottle of port and left it in his uncle’s study,” Jack exploded, then swore. “It’s so bloody obvious, it’s pathetic.”

  “It’s obvious to you. To everyone else, you’re a blackguard who’s already killed a woman. What’s one ill-liked duke added into that equation? Especially one who’s stolen a piece of land from you?”

  Jack clenched his jaw and fixed his gaze on the long row of roses. “Not much.”

  Richard looked at him and sighed. “Miss Benton might come forward and attest that Wenford died in her presence and at a very early hour. It would put the bottle issue into dispute.”

  The marquis shook his head. “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “She hates scandal.” And he hadn’t helped the issue by rendering Wenford naked, though he still had a difficult time regretting the action.

  “Jack, I’m not certain you appreciate how serious this is becoming. The bottle clearly contained poison, and you were seen by numerous witnesses handing it, or an identical one, over to the old duke. You could go to trial for this, and then the true circumstances would come out anyway.”

  The marquis shook his head. “No, they would not. I’ll not put her through that.”

  “You’d rather let Prinny get his hands on Dansbury and see you off to Australia in chains, then? Our dear Majesty has been lusting after your estate for years, you know. It’s closer to London than Brighton, and it’d be considerably less expensive to convert into his idiotic ‘pleasure palace.’”

  “I’m aware of that. And yes, I would rather see Dansbury gone than break my word to Miss Benton.” Surprising as it was to him, it was the truth. He’d rather die than hurt Lilith.

  For the first time, a slight smile touched Richard’s face. “I see. Just how badly do you have it?”

  Jack shrugged uncomfortably. Being in love was new and precious enough that he didn’t wish to discuss it with anyone. Certainly not with someone who hated him. “Badly enough, I suppose.”

  “I owe Alison another ten quid, then. She said you were addle-brained over Miss Benton.”

  “I am not addle-brained,” Jack stated, annoyed. “Now, do you mind if we return to determining how I am to clear my name without involving Lil?”

  Richard cleared his throat. “Does she know about…your past?”

  “She knows I killed a woman, yes.”

  “Damnation, Dansbury,” Richard exploded, “I keep throwing bait at you, and you simply ignore it. For the last time, will you tell me what happened that night?”

  The marquis looked at him for a long moment. He wanted to, and for the first time, he thought Richard might actually listen. “After we come up with a plan,” he hedged.

  Richard threw up his hands. “That’s simple. Get Dolph to confess he killed his uncle to gain the inheritance. Short of that, I don’t think you have a p
rayer.”

  Jack straightened. “That’s what I thought. My thanks. Good day.” He started to offer his hand, but wasn’t certain the baron would take it. Instead, he headed for the garden gate.

  “Jack?”

  The marquis turned to face his brother-in-law. “Why did you decide to speak to me today, Richard?”

  He shrugged. “The other night, at Bea’s party, I saw you with Miss Benton. Your good side was showing. I simply hadn’t seen it in five years, and I’d forgotten you had one.”

  Jack nodded again and continued to walk away, then on impulse stopped. Lilith was so concerned with the importance of family, and it seemed foolish that he was barely allowed to speak to his. Little as he cared to admit it, he missed their easy companionship from time to time. And there were occasions when he actually disliked being alone.

  “That day…in France—when I broke down the hotel room door to capture Genevieve, she went mad. She screamed and grabbed a knife, and came after me. I kept trying to shove her away, to get the knife away from her, but she wouldn’t stop screaming. She was making so damned much noise, shrieking bloody murder, and I was afraid those two blasted soldiers with her would come crashing in any moment—”

  “So you stabbed her.”

  Dammit, Richard. “They came close enough to hanging me the first time she betrayed us. I didn’t know where you were, and I couldn’t risk letting her get away—”

  “Why didn’t you tell me it wasn’t just revenge?”

  “You didn’t give me a chance.”

  Richard hesitated. “I suppose not. Blood all over the room, all over you, the look on your face, soldiers pounding up the back stairs…”

  “You had enough time to call me a damned murderer, as I recall.” Jack looked at his brother-in-law and shrugged. “You were my friend, Richard. After everything we’d been through…I was too hurt that you’d believe I could have done…that, for revenge. And then later, I suppose I was too proud.”

  “Jack—”

  He yanked the gate open. “But you were right. I am a murderer. I didn’t have to kill her, I should have found some other way.”

  Richard didn’t say anything, just watched him as he swung up on Benedick and rode back toward the middle of Mayfair.

  Jack’s next task looked to be at least as difficult, but just as necessary. It took some searching, but finally he found his quarry in one of Bond Street’s more exclusive rare gem establishments. “William,” he said, grinning, and slapped his young companion on the back.

  For once, William looked less than pleased to see him. “Jack, what brings you here?” he asked stiffly, quickly placing a diamond-studded necklace back onto the velvet bag which had held it. “I’m not supposed to be seen with you any longer. This morning Father spent twenty minutes preaching the gospel of avoiding the Marquis of Dansbury to Lilith and me. And poor Lili’s got enough to worry about, marrying that bore Wenford.”

  Jack glanced at the necklace. A thousand quid worth of stones, at least. “You bring me here, mon ami. I’ve been neglecting you, I fear. I intend to make it up to you. An evening at the Society, I thought.”

  “I’m occupied tonight, Jack,” William returned, still obviously distracted.

  Jack slipped an arm around the boy’s shoulders and edged him toward the door, away from any prying ears. “William, might I ask you a question?”

  “I’m rather busy right now. Perhaps we could—”

  “Have you ever engaged in sexual intercourse with anyone besides Antonia?” he interrupted casually, tightening his grip when William tried to break away.

  “Well, of course,” William answered indignantly, flushing. “I’ve not had as many conquests as you, I’m certain, but—well, what bloody business is it of yours, anyway?”

  “Intimacy tends to sway one’s heart when one is unused to it,” Jack said easily. “I’ve known some young fools, much less intelligent than you, who have misinterpreted lust for love, and offered for the first chit they bedded. Just wanted to be certain you know what you’re up to.”

  William pulled free, his expression angry as he shrugged his coat back into place. “I know what you’re up to, Dansbury. I’m not an idiot, even if I don’t have memberships at half the clubs in town. At least I can still get into them.”

  Jack kept his expression neutral. “I’ll overlook that, William, because your sister seems to find your repertoire amusing. But if you want to remain friends with me, I suggest you not continue in that vein.”

  William swallowed, then took a breath. “I love Antonia, Jack, and I’m going to ask her to marry me. Whether you like it or not.”

  Jack nodded. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t. I’m only saying you should make certain you’ve seen the true Antonia, not just the pretty face she’s painted for you. Answer me this. Have you ever disagreed with her? About anything?”

  “No,” William boasted, his face still flushed. “We agree on everything. That’s why we’re so perfect for one another.”

  “Have you ever known any two people who know each other well and who don’t argue?” His and Lilith’s various encounters immediately came to mind, and he stifled a smile.

  “Well, of course—”

  “I’ll wager you one thousand quid, William, that you can’t make her disagree with you. That she’ll voice no opinion that is not yours.”

  “And what would that prove?”

  Jack shrugged. “Nothing in particular. It might make you a fair wedding gift if you win.”

  “I could lie about it and say we did argue.”

  The marquis gave a slight grin. “You won’t. You come from the same blood as your sister. You won’t lie.”

  William grimaced, glancing over at the bauble on the counter again. When he looked back at Jack, he was wearing his sly, self-confident expression. “When—when—I win this wager, you’ll purchase that necklace for me to give to Antonia. Agreed?”

  Jack nodded. “Agreed. But if I win, you have to consider what I’ve said here. After that, you do as you see fit.”

  They shook hands, and then the marquis strolled back out into the street, so pleased with the way things were going that he barely noticed the Countess of Devale cutting him. If Antonia St. Gerard reacted as he predicted, that was two down. Merely half a hundred to go.

  Jack turned Benedick toward home. Lilith would be at the Mistners’ this evening, and luckily they’d sent him an invitation before the latest rumors had caused the stream of cards that flowed to his door to dry into a miserable trickle. Before he proceeded with anything against Dolph, he wanted her permission. If she had truly decided to marry the buffoon, he would…well, he supposed he would flee to Spain or to America and then get himself killed in a duel, unless he could convince himself to kidnap her and make off with her to Gretna Green. Jack smiled a little. By God, he was getting soft-headed.

  With her forbidden to see him, he’d have to be careful tonight—the stakes of the game had been raised considerably. This wasn’t for amusement anymore. This was for forever.

  Though Aunt Eugenia had been certain His Grace would attend the Mistners’ with them, apparently Lilith’s prayers had been heard. The Duke of Wenford sent his regrets, but he had a meeting with his solicitors he couldn’t escape. It seemed almost too convenient, and Lilith spent the coach ride to the ball worrying that Dolph was out causing more trouble for Jack. After last night, Jack’s troubles concerned her at least as much as her own.

  She nearly tripped over Lionel Hendrick’s foot when, halfway through her waltz with the earl, she spied Dansbury. He stood just inside the doorway, talking with Ogden Price. Those nearest him had pointedly moved away, but he didn’t appear to have noticed. Lilith knew, though, that he had. At that moment, he glanced in her direction, offered her a slight smile, and returned to his conversation.

  He should not have come. She had heard with dismay the news that the bottle in Wenford’s study contained poison, so he must know about it as well, and would know that no
one would wish to speak to him, no woman would want to stand up with him for a dance. No woman except her, of course—and she didn’t dare. And yet he had come.

  “Lilith?” Lionel looked down at her, and she blinked. His smile was a bit strained, as it had been since her engagement, but at least he had been a gentleman about the whole thing. “I do hope when the invitations for your wedding go out, that you will not choose to exclude me. I think that we have remained friends.”

  Of course he wouldn’t wish to be excluded from the event of the Season. “I would not think of excluding you,” she answered, returning his smile.

  His expression brightened. “I am pleased to hear that.”

  Pen was waiting for her as the waltz ended and impulsively grabbed Lilith’s hand as she approached. “I think he does care for you,” she whispered, “because otherwise he would never be here tonight.”

  “Or he’s just very stubborn,” Lilith supplied, trying to keep reality and her dreams from becoming even more tangled with one another.

  “It’s so romantic,” Penelope continued. “Like Romeo daring to visit the house of Capulet to see Juliet.”

  “Romeo went to the Capulet party to cause mischief,” Lilith corrected with a slight smile, her gaze automatically going to Jack. He was looking at her again, and with his chin gestured off toward the back of the house. At least she thought he might have—it was such a slight motion that she couldn’t be certain. “He’d never seen Juliet before that night.”

  “Spoilsport,” Pen retorted. She glanced at the marquis. “I think he’s trying to catch your attention,” she continued in a low voice.

  “You think so, too?” Lilith asked. “But I don’t know what he wants. I can’t very well dance with him.”

  Pen squeezed her hands, then released them. “I will find out for you.”

  “Pen!” Lilith exclaimed.

  But her friend had already smiled directly at Dansbury, and then strolled over to the table to accept a glass of punch from a footman.