Debra Mullins

by Scandal of the Black Rose

  She closed her eyes on a wave of shame, remembering all too vividly how he’d made her feel. How wickedly wonderful…

  “Would you have believed me if I’d told you the truth?” she whispered, looking at him again.

  He studied her face. “I knew something was different about you.”

  “But would you have let me go? Or would you have continued to try and convince me to lie with you that night?”

  “All I could think about was becoming your lover.” He let out a deep breath. “God help me, I still think about it.”

  “Stop.” She shook her head, fighting the sinful urges rising within her. “We can’t. You know that.”

  “You should have told me the truth at Vauxhall,” he murmured near her ear. “Before I knew how you feel in my arms.”

  “That night was a mistake, one I can’t afford to make again.” She touched his shoulder, drawing his gaze to hers. “Open the door, Rome.”

  “God.” He sucked in a harsh breath and took a step back from her. “Just my name on your lips is enough to make me forget myself.”

  “I belong to Lord Haverford.”

  “And always have.” His expression grew stony. “So why would you pass yourself off as a whore in Vauxhall Gardens, at a dinner party for a bunch of drunken young bloods?”

  “My reasons are somewhat complicated.”

  “Simplify it for me. Why would you take such a chance with your future? What if one of those fools had forced you?”

  “I tried to leave. You stopped me.”

  “Why, Anna?”

  “I—”

  “Why?” he demanded harshly. “I deserve the truth. Is someone paying you?”

  “What?” Completely confused, she could only stare at him.

  “Is someone paying you to ruin my family?” He took her by the shoulders. “Tell me who it is, damn it!”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

  He dragged her to her tiptoes. “You tricked me into betraying my cousin, Anna. I will know why.”

  “I didn’t—”

  “If Marc finds out, we are all of us ruined.” His hot breath swept the sensitive flesh of her ear, surprising a shiver from her. “If no one paid you, why did you do it? What was a sweet little virgin like you doing in a place like that?”

  “I was looking for someone,” she whispered, her body humming with a wild hunger that she couldn’t control. The heat of his hands made her flesh prickle even through the silk of her dress. His scent surrounded her, and the maleness of him overwhelmed her in the tiny space. Her mouth watered to kiss him again.

  “Who? A lover?”

  “No.” She shook her head wildly, dislodging a hairpin in the process.

  “Who then?” he demanded.

  She stared straight into his eyes, her lips an inch from his. “The man who killed my brother.”

  Of all the possibilities, here was one he had never entertained.

  Rome straightened, ignoring the temptation of her mouth. “What do you mean? I thought your brother was killed by footpads.”

  “Everyone thinks that.” She gave a mocking little smile. “Except me. I will find the true murderer, and I will prove that Anthony’s death was no random act.” Her eyes glittered with fervor, and a flush swept her cheeks. Her passionate loyalty touched him, and it was all he could do not to pull her back into his arms.

  “You cannot continue to put yourself and your reputation in danger,” Rome said.

  “You’re right. Open the door.”

  “In a moment. Anna, be reasonable. You’re a woman. You can’t investigate something like this.”

  “I can, and I have been.” She tilted her chin in challenge.

  “Don’t forget what happened at Vauxhall. Had I been less a gentleman, you would have lost more than your locket.”

  “Which is why you have imprisoned us both in this closet. Because you’re such a gentleman,” she taunted.

  He shoved her away. “Little fool. You have no idea the depth of my will.”

  She lost her footing for only an instant, then rallied. One curl had dislodged itself and curved along her cheek and neck. He wanted to twirl that lock of hair around his finger, inhale her sweet scent as her body moved beneath his…

  “All I know,” she whispered, watching him warily, “is that the next act will be starting, and I am here in a closet with you instead of sitting beside the earl.”

  The mention of Haverford helped him clamp down on his hunger. “I have no wish to give the gossips anything to chew.”

  “Then open the door, and we forget anything that has passed between us.”

  “Can you forget?”

  Silence trembled between them. Finally, she said, “We must.”

  “I shall remember you warm and wanting in my arms until my last breath.” He closed his eyes, struggling for discipline. Her scent seduced him in the close quarters, like some ancient enchantment. He knew what she felt like in his arms, how she kissed, the soft sounds she made as she found her pleasure. His body clamored to finish what they’d started that night at Vauxhall.

  “Rome.” Her whisper wrapped around him like an embrace. “I wasn’t playing a game. I wasn’t trying to hurt your family, but merely seeking the truth.”

  “I believe you.”

  “I’m just trying to find out who killed my brother.” She touched his arm, and he opened his eyes to meet her earnest gaze. “Perhaps we can help each other.”

  His body surged to life at the soft words, and his primal urges strained the leash of his will. “What are you talking about?”

  “My investigation. You can help me. You can go places I cannot, and you have a friend within the society.”

  “No. I will not help you put yourself in danger.”

  Her mouth thinned. “Then I will continue alone.”

  “I can’t allow that.”

  She lifted her gaze, showing him the determination in her eyes. “You can’t stop it.”

  A gauntlet, boldly thrown between them.

  He hauled her into his arms and kissed her. He hadn’t meant to. Knew it was wrong. But dear God, the taste of her…

  She stood on her tiptoes and responded to his kiss, opening her mouth and pressing herself against him with an eagerness that stunned him. He caressed her cheek, her throat. His fingers brushed the chain of her locket, warm from her skin.

  What was he doing?

  He broke the kiss and stepped back so quickly that she swayed, off-balance. He put a hand on her shoulder to steady her.

  “Oh, my God.” Grasping his arm, she reached up and touched her lips with a trembling hand. Distress widened her eyes as she stared at him. “Why did you do that?”

  “I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”

  She took another breath, then noticed her hand still on his arm. She snatched it away. “Forget what I said. I think it’s best we try to avoid each other.”

  He folded his arms, amused despite the grimness of the situation. “How do you propose we do that? Haverford is my cousin, and besides, we need to continue our conversation about your brother’s killer.”

  “That conversation is over.”

  “No, it isn’t.” He’d seen the determination in her eyes. She would continue to search for her brother’s killer, no matter what it cost her.

  He couldn’t allow that. Better to keep her close…and safe.

  “I’ve decided your idea about becoming partners has merit,” he said.

  “Partners? For all I know, you’re involved. Why else would you be at that dinner party?”

  “If I were involved, you’d likely be dead by now.” He ignored her look of stunned horror. “Oh, come now. I was there for the same reason you were.”

  “So you say.” She tried to appear indifferent, but he caught her furtive glance at his hand, bare of any jewelry.

  “I am not a member,” he confirmed as she raised her gaze back to his.

  She didn’t even try to pretend. “Then
what were you doing there?”

  “Investigating.” He arched his brows. “So many questions. Are you certain you don’t want to join forces?”

  “I cannot trust you, sir.” Blushing, she glanced away.

  He sobered. “In this matter, you can. If you change your mind, send word through Lavinia. We can meet at her house to exchange information.” He opened the door and extended his arm. “Now allow me to see you back to your seat.”

  “Insufferable man.” She placed her hand on his arm with obvious reluctance.

  He reached past her to close the door behind them and seized the moment to whisper in her ear, “You suffer me quite well, actually.”

  A glare was her only response.

  Anna was shaking as they made their way back toward Haverford’s box. Rome had made the connection between her and Rose. He’d claimed he was investigating the society as she was, that he wasn’t a member and therefore wasn’t party to Anthony’s death. Dared she believe him? She wanted to.

  But was the desire to trust him rooted in sound logic or the wild emotion spawned by his kiss?

  And partners? Even if he was innocent as he claimed, this attraction to Rome could only lead to disaster. Yes, she had convinced her parents to bring her to London so she could investigate her brother’s death, but she also wanted to be a dutiful daughter and marry Lord Haverford. Every moment she spent alone with Rome endangered that future.

  She wished the earl would ask her to wed him and be done with it. Once she had his ring on her finger, she would surely be able to resist the lure of Roman Devereaux.

  Which begged the question—why was Haverford hesitating?

  “We’re later than I thought,” Rome said, bringing her back to the present.

  She glanced around and realized he was right— many of the theatergoers had returned to their seats. “Dear Lord, we’ll be missed!”

  They stepped up their pace, rounding a corner near Haverford’s box, then slowed, seeing the earl waiting for them. He was not alone; Dennis Fellhopper and his sister Charlotte were conversing with him. As alike as two peas, the fair-haired, blue-eyed duo had recently returned to London after several Seasons in the country.

  “Be calm,” Rome murmured. “No need to panic.”

  She shot him an incredulous glance, then smiled as Haverford looked up and saw them.

  “There you are,” the earl said. “I had just thought to look for you.”

  “My apologies. I was detained by an acquaintance.” Anna removed her hand from Rome’s arm and took her place beside her suitor.

  “Well, you have arrived in the nick of time. The next act is set to begin.” Clearing his throat, he turned to the man and woman waiting politely for introductions. “Mr. Fellhopper, Miss Fellhopper, this is Miss Rosewood,” Marc said. “And this is my cousin, Mr. Devereaux.”

  “Charmed as always, Miss Rosewood,” Fellhopper said. “Mr. Devereaux, a pleasure.”

  “You know each other?” the earl asked, glancing from Anna to the Fellhoppers.

  “For many years,” Charlotte said. “Anna and I made our debut together.” The sweet-faced blonde cast a shy glance at Rome. “But I have not had the pleasure of Mr. Devereaux’s company until now.”

  “Fellhopper. Miss Fellhopper. It is indeed an honor to meet you both.” Rome acknowledged them with a quick bow. “If you will excuse me, however, my sister awaits my return.”

  “Of course,” Haverford said.

  “Another time,” Fellhopper replied.

  “Good evening, Mr. Devereaux,” came Charlotte’s soft reply.

  He gave a polite nod and walked away. Anna’s gaze lingered on his back until Haverford’s voice returned her to the conversation.

  “My cousin is just returned from the war,” he was saying.

  “How brave he must be,” Charlotte breathed, also looking after Rome.

  Haverford cleared his throat again, his face curiously flushed. “Indeed. I would have bought a commission myself had my responsibilities to my estates not taken precedence.”

  Charlotte turned her big blue eyes on the earl. “We all do our part, my lord.”

  His ears reddened. “Indeed, as you do your part to assist your brother.”

  “Charlotte is a wonderful hostess,” Fellhopper said, with a fond smile.

  “She is indeed,” Haverford agreed. He looked at Anna. “Fellhopper and I have business dealings together, and I have spent many a comfortable evening at his home in Leicestershire.”

  “How lovely,” Anna said. She found herself glancing over to where she’d last seen Rome, then, horrified, jerked her gaze back to her companions. Luckily, Lord Haverford was facing the Fellhoppers and had not noticed her blunder.

  The signal sounded for the next act, and the Fellhoppers took their leave.

  “Fine people,” Haverford said, leading her back to his box.

  “Indeed,” Anna agreed, determined to finish the evening without further adventure.

  They took their seats just as the curtain rose.

  Anna’s mother leaned close to her daughter. “You were gone quite a while, dear,” she murmured.

  Anna shrugged and smiled in apology, hoping that would be the end of it.

  “And your hair is mussed,” Henrietta continued, arching a brow.

  Anna raised her hand to discover a lock of hair had indeed slipped from its pins and dangled from the back of her upswept curls. Anxiety rushed through her, and she searched her mother’s expression for some hint of disapproval. “How curious.”

  “Not really.” Mrs. Rosewood smiled fondly, her eyes darting to Lord Haverford, who sat enraptured in the performance. “I notice the earl is looking a bit flushed.”

  “Oh?” Baffled now, Anna cast a sidelong look at Haverford. He did appear a bit flustered, come to think of it.

  Henrietta patted her daughter’s arm. “As long as you are discreet, dear, I have no objection to anything you must do to secure his lordship’s affections.”

  Anna gaped. Her mother thought she and Haverford had…“Mama!” she hissed, cheeks burning.

  Henrietta merely gave her a nod of approval, then relaxed back in her seat to enjoy the rest of the play.

  Despite her best intentions, Anna couldn’t stop herself from glancing at Rome. His knowing look did nothing to help the situation.

  She turned back to face the stage and suffered through the rest of the performance, wishing she’d never walked down that dark path at Vauxhall Gardens.

  Chapter 9

  On Friday at three o’clock, Rome arrived at the office of Edgar Vaughn. His heart pounded as if he were a schoolboy who had just received high compliments from his instructor. If he presented himself well at this meeting, his dreams of a career in diplomacy could become reality.

  Upon stating his name and his business, he was directed to Rupert Pennyworthy, Vaughn’s secretary.

  “Mr. Devereaux,” Pennyworthy said, with a pained smile as he rose from his desk. “I know you have an appointment today with Mr. Vaughn, but he has been unexpectedly called out of town.”

  At the news, Rome’s heart plummeted to his stomach. Had Vaughn changed his mind about hiring the son of Oliver Devereaux?

  He should have expected this.

  He forced a polite smile to his lips. “How unfortunate. I would, of course, like to schedule for another day.”

  “You’ll need to speak to Mr. Vaughn about that.”

  “Of course.” It had been problematic enough obtaining the first appointment, as Edgar Vaughn was notoriously difficult to contact. Securing a second appointment might prove challenging, if not impossible.

  He thought briefly of asking for Marc’s assistance, then immediately rejected the idea. He would obtain this position on his own merits, without trading upon his connection to the earl.

  The slender young man came around the desk. “Mr. Vaughn can only see you for a few minutes, as he must leave London shortly. This way, Mr. Devereaux.”

  “Vaughn is here
?” he blurted, unable to hide his surprise.

  “I’m sorry, perhaps I gave you the wrong impression.” Again that pained smile. “Mr. Vaughn will see you, but you must keep the visit very brief.”

  A huge smile spread across Rome’s face. “I appreciate his making time for me.”

  Pennyworthy led the way to Vaughn’s office, announced Rome, then took himself off as discreetly as a whiff of smoke.

  “Devereaux! Come in. My apologies, but I only have a few minutes.” Edgar Vaughn shuffled through papers on his massive desk, shoving some into a satchel and others into his desk drawer.

  “Your secretary told me.” Rome closed the door, glancing around at the elegant splendor of the décor. “Quite a handsome office, sir.”

  Vaughn gave a short bark of laughter. “Impresses foreign dignitaries. I’d be happy enough in something less opulent.”

  Rome grinned. “I understand.”

  “You would, I’d imagine. Do sit down, Devereaux.” As Rome took a seat in one of the plush leather chairs in front of the desk, Vaughn gave him a short, piercing look that seemed to sum up Rome’s character in mere moments. “Military man, weren’t you?”

  “Yes. I recently returned home from the Peninsula.”

  “Not easily shaken, then. Good quality to have in this position.” Vaughn shuffled more papers, sorting them into two piles. “I’ve read the reports, of course. Your commanding officers speak very highly of you.”

  “It was an honor to serve under them.”

  Vaughn gave a bark of laughter. “Very diplomatic answer, Devereaux.”

  “No, just the truth.”

  “Even better.” Vaughn yanked open another drawer and grabbed a small velvet bag, which he tossed on the desk. The strings had not been pulled closed, and the contents spilled across the surface with a clatter. “Botheration!” Vaughn exclaimed as gold coins scattered over the solid mahogany.

  “Allow me to assist,” Rome said, bending down to scoop up the few coins that had fallen on the carpet.

  “Not necessary,” Vaughn insisted as he gathered coins back into the bag.