“There you are,” came a whisper from across the room, as he stepped into the library. Moonlight shining into the windows showed that the lovely Lady Elling was wearing a thin silk wrapper and nothing else. Her long blonde hair was artfully arranged to one side of her neck. “I was beginning to think you would not come.”
As she walked toward him, exposing bare legs beneath the wrapper, his cock instinctively hardened. It had been almost a year since the last time he’d been with a woman. Other than his interlude with Rosalind.
Enough of that.
He slowly walked toward her. She reached up and put her arms around his neck, pressing her breasts against him, pressing her feminine mound against his cock.
“Ohhhhh,” she purred. “You are excited to see me.” She playfully moved her hand down his chest, to his waistband. She expertly opened the placket of his trousers and gripped his cock. She stroked him a few times, then slyly removed her hand.
“Come upstairs,” she said. “We’ll be much more comfortable.”
With that, she turned and slowly walked away, her hips swaying from side to side. She expected him to follow.
After a moment, he did.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Hal had been surprised to receive the urgent summons from Madame Thurmond shortly after noon the next day asking him to call on her. His suspicion that something was afoot only deepened when he was shown into her personal sitting room without having to wait.
“Thank you for coming so quickly, Lord Hal,” said Madame Thurmond from an expensive settee that wouldn’t have looked out of place in Mayfair. “Would you care to join me for tea? Or would you like something stronger?”
Hal considered the woman, so demurely dressed. She was at once friendly and business-like. And her eyes were as cold as ever.
“Something tells me I may need a stronger refreshment. Whiskey, if you please.”
The Madame nodded at the well-dressed, muscular footman who looked like he’d be more at home in a bare knuckle fight than waiting at tea. After he gave Hal the whiskey, Madame Thurmond dismissed him.
“Lord Hal, what I have to discuss isn’t pleasant. It grieves me to do so because you have been one of this establishment’s most valued clients. You have never started a fight, nor abused the girls. Your reputation in the beau monde is such that I have gained clients simply because it is known you frequent my establishment. Your loyalty has been much appreciated.”
“I’m sure my blunt hasn’t gone amiss, either,” said Hal, as he took a sip of his drink.
She nodded her head. “As you say. A generous patron who pays on time is always valued. Yet, I find myself the bearer of bad news. An intermediary to someone who seems to bear you some ill will.”
Hal’s only response was a raised eyebrow.
“It seems you have become romantically involved with the Earl of Heffner’s niece,” said Madame Thurmond carefully. When Hal said nothing, she continued. “You and she recently came to my establishment and secured the services of two of my girls. If that information ever got out, your Miss Sutton would be ruined.”
Hal had to call on years of hiding his emotions to keep from raging at the woman across from him. “No one would believe such an allegation.”
“Really? Not even if her rather identifiable birthmark were mentioned? You were observed that night in the room. If that information gets out, your Miss Sutton will be cut by everyone in your world, even if you do marry her. Hypocrisy runs rampant among your set, accompanied by a ruthlessness that would compare favorably to the meanest cutthroat.”
Hal could barely hear her, for the sound of blood rushing through his veins. He’d been so stupid. So very, very stupid. He should have known they might be watched. But all he could think about that night was making Melanie his own. And now he’d ruined her life. Even if he did marry her – and there was no choice for him now – she would never live this down. Thurmond was right. The ton would never forgive this scandal. Even if he paid the blackmail demand that he knew was coming, he’d never be free. He could bankrupt himself and his entire family and he’d never be free.
“Who hired you?” asked Hal.
“If he wanted you to know that information, I suspect he would have contacted you himself.”
“Whatever he’s paying you, I’ll double it. Triple it. Give me a name. I’ll make it worth your while.”
Madame Thurmond looked like she was seriously considering the offer. Finally, she shook her head. “He’s not paying me. He has information that could be very bad for me if it reached the wrong people. If I don’t do this for him, I might as well sign my own death warrant.”
“I can protect you. I’ll get the Duke of Lynwood to help. He can do anything.”
“Ah, Lord Hal, I think you overestimate his grace’s reach. In this case, he cannot help. If I thought he could, I would’ve blackmailed you myself. But, no, I am bound to help this bastard. He has laid out his demands in this note. You won’t recognize the writing, for he dictated it to me.” She handed him the letter. “I have no doubt he will ruin your Miss Sutton if you do not pay. I believe there’s a good chance he’ll do it anyway, just for sport.”
“You sound like you wish for me to devise a permanent solution to our mutual problem, madam.”
She shrugged. “I certainly wouldn’t mourn the man if he were to disappear,” she said.
“I’m surprised you haven’t taken care of the problem yourself,” said Hal. At her lifted brows, he continued. “One does hear things about you.”
“I’m flattered,” she said. “Even if you didn’t mean it as a compliment. You have a problem on your hands, Lord Hal. He gives you a deadline in the letter. I suggest you meet it. In the meantime, I must prepare for my evening business. Take care. And good luck.”
* * *
Hal was not looking forward to his meeting with Lynwood. As a brother, Liam was fair, even if he did sometimes let his temper get the better of him and throw the occasional punch. As Lynwood, he was the head of the family, the latest in a long line of noblemen who had served King and country. While Lynwood had never taken his title too seriously – he was remarkably human for a duke – he was well aware that he owed something to his ancient line. And so did the rest of the family.
That sense of duty, plus the terrible mood he’d been in did not bode well for this meeting. Hal wasn’t sure what was bedeviling his brother. Lizzie told him she had her suspicions, but wasn’t sharing what they were. Jane and Vanessa thought it was a woman, but Hal thought that was the least likely possibility. He assumed Liam had a mistress because celibacy wasn’t popular among Kellington males. But he had no idea who she was. And he certainly doubted anything a mistress did could put Liam in this foul of a mood.
He supposed it was possible that his brother was in love. Hal had seen the softer side of his brother during those terrible months after their parents had died. Liam had seemed to know precisely what Hal needed to get through those dark days, when Hal himself had no idea how he’d make it. Despite the age gap and the difference in temperament between them, Hal had always felt closest to his eldest brother.
Which was significant because Hal fought not to be close to anyone.
He found Liam in his study when he came home. But instead of paying close attention to his ledgers, he was staring out the window, though Hal couldn’t for the life of him see what the man was studying so intently.
“We need to talk,” said Hal, having decided there was no way to avoid it.
As if sensing something was urgent, Liam rose from the desk, then motioned to the chairs near the fire. “What do you wish to discuss?” he asked, when they were both settled.
For an instant, Hal thought of fleeing, but then began telling his tale. All of it. He spared no part of the story from the infantile bet up until his meeting an hour earlier with Madame Thurmond. He didn’t precisely tell Liam the extent to which he’d compromised Melanie, but he might have done nothing more than kissed her hand and she’d st
ill be ruined after their visit to Madame Thurmond’s.
When his story had finally been told, he felt enormous relief, even knowing what would come next. Liam would rage – rightly so – about the damage he’d caused Melanie and the Kellington name.
Liam took a deep breath. “Do you love her?”
It was the last question Hal expected from his brother. “If you’re asking whether I’m willing to do the right thing and marry her, I am. She is innocent in all of this. Indeed, she has risked her reputation and even her life….”
“Do you love her?” asked Liam again, staring intently at his brother.
Hal had been the recipient of that all-seeing gaze before, usually right before he was presented with evidence of his latest wrongdoing. But to be on the receiving end in these circumstances was most disconcerting.
He cleared his throat. “Love is such a foolish emotion….”
“Hal,” said Liam, beginning to show the telltale signs of a slipping temper. “If you don’t answer my question I may throw you out the window. Do you love her?”
“Yes.” The word was out before Hal could do anything about it. The truth was out. It was suspended in the air between the two of them. There was nothing Hal could do to snatch it back. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to. It was like he was trying out the emotion, and entrusting it to the one man in the world who knew how much he’d suffered and lost so many years ago. “Yes,” he said in barely more than a whisper. “I do love her.”
“Then you’ll marry her and we’ll put the considerable weight of the House of Lynwood toward squashing this blackmail scheme. I’m sure Aunt Agatha will be so thrilled to have you married that she’ll personally draw the cork of any man or woman who would dare sully Miss Sutton’s name.”
Hal was astonished by his brother’s heartfelt response. He had no doubt in his mind that Lynwood would don the armor of old and fight this battle for him. He also knew the rest of his family would close ranks with him. An odd welling in his chest made him clear his throat.
“But here’s the peculiar thing,” he said. “I’m not sure the lady will have me. I mean, there’s a chance she may have little choice but to go back to America with that prosy Parker. I don’t want her to come to me because she has to. I want her to want me. I want her to…love me. And I don’t know how to make that happen.”
There was a moment of silence in the room. Hal waited for what Liam would say.
“Good God man, did someone cut off your bollocks?”
That wasn’t what he’d been expecting.
Liam continued. “You’ve been charming women since you were in the cradle. Every woman in the shire was head over ears in love with you. Even with your dual hobbies of drunkenness and debauchery, the females of the ton swarm around you. You can’t tell me this Miss Sutton of yours is immune to your charms.”
“Like someone who has had the measles and has no fear of getting them again.”
Liam looked at him askance and Hal half feared he would make good on his threat concerning the window. Instead, Liam continued. “That’s not the way our sister tells it. She, Jane and Vanessa believe your Miss Sutton is quite taken with you. Besotted. In love.”
“What did they say exactly?” asked Hal. “Did Mel give any indication of what she thought of my manner of courting her? Or perchance did she say anything about my looks?”
“Bollocks, Hal. Bollocks. They didn’t go into detail in their report other than to say they liked her very much and sincerely hoped you wouldn’t muck up the entire thing. They would like to have Miss Sutton as a sister and I confess that I am looking forward to getting to know the lady better myself. I have no other details. Please do not ask. Put the plan in motion. Rest assured you have everyone’s support.”
Hal felt lighter than he had in days. Months, if he were honest with himself. He hadn’t felt this way since before he’d begun spending time with Charles Francis.
Hal grinned and rose to take his leave. He faltered because there was something so out of character about Liam’s mood as of late. “Liam, if you want to talk…”
“You’ve become a bloody female, Hal. Next, you’ll be making a quilt for the vicar. Out. Now.”
Hal took his dismissal with good grace, and was about to change before calling on the Earl of Heffner. But before he could put his plan into effect, he received his second summons of the day. And this one was just as urgent.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Hal hoped that Inspector Stapleton’s summons to Newgate prison meant there was a break in the case of the missing women. Mel would be furious that he didn’t bring her to the meeting, but there was no way he’d expose her to the hellhole that was Newgate.
Located at Newgate Street and Old Bailey, the prison held men, women and children. It was divided into two areas: a Common area for poor prisoners and a State area for those who could afford to pay for better accommodations. But even the State area lacked basic amenities such as clean water and decent sanitation. While Newgate was generally considered to be a safer gaol than the barges, countless prisoners still lost their lives to disease and violence.
As Hal entered the central courtyard of the prison, he could only imagine the despair of a person being sentenced to the stone fortress. He passed by the spot where they held public executions and was doubly relieved he’d made the decision to leave Mel out of this. He hoped to conclude his business quickly and leave the building of the damned.
The guards at the gate had been expecting him. Inspector Stapleton was well known and probably feared by the guards – most of whom were reportedly corrupt. But Hal was quickly ushered to the State area, where he met Stapleton at the door.
“I’m glad you could make it so quickly, Hal,” he said. “If this information is true, we could learn who’s behind the disappearances.”
As Hal followed Stapleton into the building, he was hit with a rush of fetid air caused by too many unwashed bodies held in one place along with the toll of disease and death. With a sickening lurch in his stomach, he wondered what it must be like in the Common area.
Stapleton led him down several corridors. They passed large cells, some of which were crowded with prisoners. Others held only two or three in a space that could accommodate four times that number.
Stapleton explained the penal process as they walked. “Each prisoner pays for his keep. The more you pay, the more amenities you receive. You can purchase anything from extra time in the communal area to having fewer people in your cell. There are, of course, other, less savory items for sale.”
Hal tried very hard not to think of what the latter referred to. They turned a corner and were midway down the corridor when they heard a voice from one of the nearby cells.
“Oi! Lord ‘Al!”
Hal turned to see a man hailing him from the cell they had just passed. He was one of only half a dozen occupants of the cage. Hal recognized him as a former bully boy at Madame Thurmond’s. And while the man had certainly been in better health when Hal had known him previously, he looked considerably better off than many of the men they’d passed.
Though Stapleton had warned him not to get too close to any of the cells, Hal stopped to speak to the man. From what he remembered, he’d been dismissed from Madame Thurmond’s for using too much force on too many occasions. “Bleaker,” said Hal.
“How kind of you to remem’er me, milord,” said the man, bobbing his head. “You always was a good ‘un.”
Stapleton moved closer to Hal. Out of the corner of his eye, Hal noticed Stapleton had a hand on his club. Bleaker noticed, as well.
“Tell the China Street pig there ain’t no use for that,” said Bleaker contemptuously.
Stapleton showed no reaction to the derogatory phrase, other than the stone-hard stare he was known for when dealing with criminals.
“You’ll keep a civil tongue in your head, Bleaker,” said Hal. “Inspector Stapleton is an excellent Runner, as well as a friend.”
Bleaker’s demeanor chan
ged completely. “Didn’t mean no harm by it,” he said with a smile that revealed rotting teeth. “But I’ve a reputation to keep up. Can’t be seen cozying up to the law.” But from his expression, he looked like he’d be just as happy beating both Stapleton and Hal with the club.
Hal began to move on.
“Beggin’ a moment of yer time, milord,” said Bleaker. “But I was wondering wot you ‘eard from Madame Thurmond.”
“What do you mean?”
Bleaker studied him for a moment, then shrugged. “Nothin’. Just starved fer any bit of news from the outside world. Don’t get much of it in ‘ere. Jus’ wonderin’ if you still visited the old place. For a while there, it looked like you spent more time there than at yer brother’s grand ‘ouse.”
“Yes, well, that is all in the past,” said Hal, as he prepared to move on. “Take care of yourself, Bleaker.”
Hal took a guinea out of his pocket and was about to give it to the man, who’d already put his hand through the bars to take it. But before Hal’s hand was within reach of Bleaker, Stapleton took the coin from him, then pulled him back. Stapleton drew a few shillings from his own pocket, then lightly tossed them on the ground near Bleaker’s feet. The flash of pure hatred in Bleaker’s face when he looked at Stapleton shocked Hal.
“It’s for your own good, Bleaker,” said Stapleton. He nodded toward the cell’s other prisoners, who’d been watching their exchange with interest. “They’d slit your throat for a guinea. But a few shillings won’t interest them. Lord Henry, we should go.”
Hal had already taken a step backward and was none too eager to linger. “Bleaker,” he said to the man in dismissal.
“Lord ‘Al,” said Bleaker, as he picked up the coins. “Might see each other again, we will. And I never forget a kindness.”
It was obvious he also never forgave a slight.
Hal joined Stapleton, who continued down the corridor. “Thank you for stopping me,” he said. “I’m no fan of Bleaker’s, but I wouldn’t want the man to die because I gave him a coin.”
Never Run From Love (Kellington Book Four) Page 22
