Sins of a Virgin (Sinners Trio)

by Anna Randol

  Gabriel knew he must look like a madman but he could do nothing to temper his emotions.

  “When the allied troops entered the city after Napoleon abdicated, I was assigned to whore myself—”

  Distracted as he was, he refused to let her use that term. “Retrieve information.”

  Her lips quirked upward. “Call it what you will. I was assigned to retrieve information about a plot to free the emperor before he was sent to Elba. We were at a ball held in honor of the return of Louis the Unavoidable. I led my target to the room I’d prepared, but a man rushed past us as we entered. I assumed we’d surprised another amorous couple. But on the bed was a young woman.” When Madeline placed the brooch back on the table, her eyes remained lowered. “She’d been strangled and positioned as you described.”

  The room dropped away and rushed back with blinding speed. The blues and greens adorning the walls roiled together and Gabriel sat heavily next to Madeline.

  There was another victim.

  Gabriel caught Madeline’s hand. “Did you notice anything about the killer?”

  She shook her head, the proud tilt of her chin ruined by two crimson blotches staining her cheeks. “No. I was . . . involved with my target.”

  Gabriel exhaled. To have come so damned close, only to be kicked back to the start, hurt a thousand times worse than not knowing at all.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault.” He rubbed the heels of his hands against his eyes.

  When Madeline remained silent, he looked up. Her hands were clasped together so tightly her fingertips had darkened to purple.

  “Isn’t it? The man I was with was too drunk to realize what he’d seen so I just led him away. I didn’t even tell anyone about the body.”

  “What would you have done? The killer undoubtedly left to avoid discovery.”

  “I could have followed him as soon as I saw the body.”

  Gabriel’s regret disappeared under something very akin to panic. “So he could have killed you, too?”

  “But that’s not what stopped me.”

  Gabriel caught her hands, untangling her fingers. “I don’t care what stopped you.”

  “You should.”

  “But I don’t.”

  “Madeline—”

  She jerked away from his hand. “Have there been any other murders in England similar to your sister’s?”

  Gabriel frowned. He could hardly return to sentimentality after the change in topic. “Two weeks ago, a schoolteacher, Molly Simm, was found strangled. Her body was arranged like Susan’s.”

  “In London?”

  Gabriel nodded.

  “Do you have any suspects?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then why are you protecting me and not investigating?”

  “Her case was assigned to someone else. I was deemed too close.”

  “But you wouldn’t be able to let that—” Her eyes suddenly widened and her lips parted. “You are investigating, aren’t you? This and your sister’s murder. That’s why you wanted seven years of my bidders’ financials.”

  “Madeline—”

  “Some of my suitors are your suspects. You used my auction to cover your investigation.”

  Gabriel waited with his hands clenched at his sides. He deserved whatever recriminations she threw at him.

  “Clever. Who are your suspects?” she asked.

  Gabriel searched her face for some sign of her true reaction. “I shouldn’t have kept the truth—”

  She cut him off with an impatient wave. “It was a good plan. I would have done the same thing in your situation.”

  He couldn’t believe his revelation didn’t affect her at all. “I hid my intentions.”

  She raised her brow. “And I put you in danger by not telling you the truth about my past. Now, who are your suspects?” Her lips pursed slightly and her attention riveted on his face. “Judging by your actions, Lenton must be one.”

  “No longer, his whereabouts are accounted for the night of the Simm murder.” Gabriel rubbed the back of his neck. “I believe it was Billingsgate. His family crest is the most similar to the sketch.”

  “Family crest?”

  Even though he’d initially hidden his investigation from Madeline, he now found himself sharing every last detail. At first he spoke out of guilt for hiding the truth, but then he continued because he wanted to know Madeline’s opinion and see if she could find anything he overlooked.

  “The landlord couldn’t tell you who rented the room the body was found in?”

  “No, he said a street urchin had paid for it. These weren’t places where the landlords bothered to ask questions.”

  “Yet obviously the killer wanted the bodies found or he would have disposed of them.”

  Despite the gravity of their discussion, Gabriel was entranced by Madeline’s face as she examined the clues in her mind. The slight narrowing of her lips. The way she stared as if the answer was just beyond his shoulder. “I’ll speak to Ian and Clayton and see if they remember him from Paris.”

  How could she not see how unique she was? How many women would sit and discuss the details of a murder when she had dozens of suitors waiting to fall at her feet?

  “When exactly was Miss Simm killed?”

  “Thursday the second. She left the school at four and her body was discovered at ten that night.”

  “I’ll find out where Billingsgate was.”

  He didn’t want her anywhere near him. He tensed as he realized there was one more layer to his deception. “Billingsgate is dangerous.”

  “In what way?”

  “He is cruel and often violent to his bed partners.”

  Her reply took two seconds too long. “I suspected as much.”

  “I wouldn’t have let him win the auction. I would have told you.”

  She shrugged. “Why? Catching a murderer is more important than my silly auction.”

  “I’d never have let it go that far.”

  She laughed, but the sound was hollow. “Why are you so worried about my feelings? I already told you I understand. I’ve done this most of my life, remember. I’m used to the mission, or in this case the investigation, taking precedence.”

  Gabriel wanted to shake her until her calm shattered and she railed at him as she must long to do. “I never did anything that I thought would endanger you.”

  “Enough. Do you want me to scream and fall apart?”

  “Yes, if that is what you want to do.”

  She smoothed her skirt. “I don’t. I never fall apart while there is a task to be accomplished.”

  Gabriel recognized this mask and knew he’d lost even more ground than he’d feared. “And after that?”

  “That is my concern. Now as I said, I will get the information on Billingsgate.”

  Could he let her? It might be his best chance. She could get information he’d never be able to. But if Billingsgate was the murderer and he discovered what she was doing . . . A horrific possibility slammed through him. “Could the murderer have seen you in Paris?”

  She tilted her head as she considered. “Perhaps.”

  “Could it have been Billingsgate?”

  “I suppose. I don’t remember him being there, but quite a few Englishmen were to celebrate the fall of Napoleon.”

  “The man who sent the threatening note said he knew you from Paris. What if he didn’t know you from your past as a spy but from that night of the murder? When you came to London and hired me—”

  “It would have appeared as if I had gone straight to the man who was hunting him.”

  “But then a week passed and nothing happened. He realized you didn’t know his identity.”

  Her body went utterly motionless in the way that masked her agitation. “The man at the ball. He might have taken some of my hair. I thought my hair had snagged on one of his buttons. Or that he’d just been cruel.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “But if he’s the murderer, then every
thing would make sense. I would need a brooch, after all. But why didn’t he leave after he recognized me the first time?”

  “Perhaps he made plans but didn’t see the need to follow through with them. Or perhaps he saw the chance to tie up loose ends like he did with Bourne.”

  A few heartbeats of silence passed before Madeline reached for her cup of tea and sipped it, a near feline smile curving her lips. “Your killer has left behind far more loose ends than he thinks.” She held up her fingers as she ticked off her points. “Noblemen are never alone and if he’s cruel, we will find someone who will talk. We can track when he was in London and Paris. He needs to have a brooch made. And I already know Billingsgate wants me. If he’s threatened me twice, that means he thinks he’s far smarter than us.”

  Gabriel stared at her a moment, realizing yet again that he’d underestimated her strength.

  Yet he would still be mad to let her help. It would put her in danger, and he couldn’t lose her. He was no longer able to delude himself that he’d be willing to give her up at the end of the auction.

  “You cannot lose this chance to catch him. I’ve been in far more dangerous situations before,” Madeline said.

  “But not because I put you there.”

  “I’m putting myself there.”

  Gabriel recognized the gleam in her eyes, the same she’d had the night when they tracked Toole. She wasn’t only willing to help. She wanted to. Needed to. Madeline would never be a woman content to sit idly by. And if he tried to force her away from the investigation, he’d be tearing away a vital part of who she was. He would have to trust her.

  But that didn’t mean he couldn’t also protect her. “From now on we tell each other our plans.”

  “Regarding the murder investigation. I don’t agree to more than that. My auction is my business alone.” But then she leaned toward him, her cool façade vanished.

  His acceptance of her help had earned her trust and forgiveness in a way his apologies never could have. But that concession wasn’t enough. But from now on he’d be content with nothing less than all of her.

  Including her heart.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Madeline paused at the edge of the trees. Women in modest gowns smiled demurely at the gentlemen around them. They sipped bland punch and flirted. It could have been any society event, save one distinction—at the end of the night, a gentleman could take his dance partner home or back to the brothel to finish the evening. All for an extremely hefty fee, of course.

  Lady Aphrodite was the hostess of the scandalous late night fete at Covent Garden. She’d invited Madeline with a single condition—that Madeline not arrive and draw attention from her girls until halfway through the party, and then that she leave before it ended.

  It had been much more difficult to persuade Lady Aphrodite to allow Madeline to send an invitation to Billingsgate yesterday. Now Madeline’s assignment was twofold, to prove him a murderer and keep him as far away from their hostess as possible.

  Since the party had been under way for over two hours, the brightly colored paper lanterns adorning the trees had begun to droop from the moisture in the air. The sparkling punch bowls made of ice sat in lopsided puddles. But the event was a success, and the weather had done little to dampen the enthusiasm of those gathered. The champagne flowed freely and the resulting high spirits suited Madeline’s purposes perfectly.

  Her gaze swept the crowd until she found Billingsgate. He was leaning over a diminutive brunette, who waved her fan in quick, agitated flicks. The color of her cheeks indicated anger. Or perhaps drink. No, definitely fury. Her movements were too controlled and the color hadn’t spread down her chest. Every time the woman tried to back away, Billingsgate crowded closer, his jaw tightening. Madeline didn’t doubt this man enjoyed violence.

  “Let’s bring him to his knees,” she whispered.

  Gabriel stood a respectful distance behind her. Even though the separation was by her order, it set her teeth on edge. She slipped back so she stood shoulder to shoulder with him.

  “All we need tonight is to gain access to his financials. Don’t allow Billingsgate to lure you away.”

  Perhaps she and Gabriel could disappear instead. They could— Before the thought could fully form, she dismissed it. She had a murderer to trap.

  And an auction to finish.

  Madeline frowned. It had taken far too long to remember the auction.

  Gabriel’s hand rested on her arm. “Madeline, I need your agreement. I refuse to put you at further risk.”

  She blinked at him, only vaguely recalling what he’d asked of her. “Of course. I’ll stay within sight.”

  “Madeline! Huntford!” Danbury strolled to her side. “I’d begun to fear you’d chosen another event.”

  Gabriel released her arm, and she smiled at Danbury. “How could I do that when you chose this one?”

  He raised her hand to his lips. “How, indeed.” Tucking her hand through his arm, Danbury addressed Gabriel. “Excited to be done with this? Only one more day, then her virginity becomes the concern of another man.”

  Gabriel’s face remained impassive. “Quite.”

  “Well, I’ll deprive you of her a bit earlier, if she’s amenable to the idea?”

  “Of course.” Madeline let habit save her before she humiliated both of them by refusing.

  “So have you picked a beautiful lady to bring home?” Madeline asked as he led her away.

  “Only if you’re willing.”

  Madeline smiled despite Gabriel’s gaze burrowing between her shoulder blades. “You can’t purchase me at an event like this.”

  “I was under the impression that even you had a price.”

  “But also a timeline.”

  Danbury laughed. “Fine, I’ll wait to prove my point. But I will win you to save my friends from heartache.”

  Madeline batted her lashes, and led him closer to Billingsgate. “I like your nobility. Speaking of aching hearts, did you witness the horrendous rendition of Othello this season?”

  “I had the misfortune of seeing it just the other night.”

  “Please tell me you were there two weeks ago when Desdemona tripped and fell off the stage, landing in the pit with her skirts over her head.”

  “No, I didn’t have the good fortune.” Danbury chuckled, then turned to Billingsgate. “You were there, right? I can always count on you to be cultured.”

  He released the other woman’s waist and she fled. “Indeed, I am. But I was at my club that night.”

  She knew she was only supposed to charm him to gain permission to see his financials, but the chance to find gaps in his alibi was impossible to pass up. “Really? I thought I saw your coach by the theater. It had to be you. It had your crest.”

  “I don’t have a coach with my family’s crest. Not since my father’s day.”

  Curse it all. Madeline studied him. Why lie about something that would be so easy to corroborate? And why would there have been a sketch of the crest in the coachman’s room?

  Lord Boyle spoke. “I wish you had been at the theater. You took a damned fortune from me at the club that night.” She didn’t think Boyle was Billingsgate’s friend so she doubted the corroboration had been planned.

  “Surely you regained some of it after he left,” Madeline said.

  Boyle sighed. “Unfortunately, he never did. He just kept winning until dawn.”

  Gabriel’s suspect had an alibi.

  Her training kept her from wheeling about to see if he’d overheard. This would gut him. He’d be back to the beginning of his investigation with no clues. She wanted to go to him and pull him away from all this and never look back.

  As if her paltry presence would do anything to shield him.

  Madeline plucked a glass of wine from one of her suitors and sipped it. Murder investigation or not, she still had an auction to win.

  Billingsgate pressed closer, his hand caressing up and down her spine. His possessive touch was as
annoying as it was repulsive. But she still needed his financials. Gabriel would want to be positive.

  Billingsgate’s hand clamped around her waist. Madeline laughed and batted it away. “No sampling the goods without an invitation.”

  His eyes glittered. “You did invite me. Specifically, I believe.” His hand inched toward her breast.

  “Back away, Billingsgate. She’s not interested.” Gabriel’s voice was cold as he strode to her side.

  Madeline drew in a silent breath. Gabriel was cutting off his path for further investigation.

  For her.

  Billingsgate stepped back. “Why? The woman wants me.”

  Madeline remained silent.

  A mottled flush spread up his cheeks, but he seemed to recall himself at the last moment and shrugged. “I don’t mind if you play coy. It will make our night all the more enjoyable.”

  Knowing his taste for violence in the bedroom, his words chilled her. But he strode away.

  Gabriel looked pointedly at him, then back at her, silently asking if she wanted him to go after Billingsgate. She shook her head. There was no reason for Gabriel to risk the man’s anger. Gabriel stared at her a moment, then faded back through the crowd.

  She turned to her suitors and smiled, changing the shake of her head into something more dramatic. “A coy woman has no intention of following through.” She cupped her breasts through her bodice, drawing ravenous eyes, Billingsgate forgotten in their lust. But although she’d needed to draw their attention, the action felt wrong. Cheap. Dirty. “I have every intention of seeing this all the way to its climax.”

  Quickly, she lavished attention back on Danbury. Despite her lack of enthusiasm, years of experience allowed her to know the precise moment to lay her hand on his arm or slide her tongue over her lower lip. Which was fortunate, for while she tried to charm Danbury—handsome, rich, and interested Danbury—her mind focused on Gabriel.

  She’d been willing to leave the party.

  Had been willing? If it was up to her, she’d walk over to Gabriel and leave all this.

  But it was up to her, and that was the terrifying thing. She could throw herself into Gabriel’s arms and announce that instead of selling her virginity, she was going to give it away on a foolish whim of her heart.