In Bed with a Rogue

by Samantha Grace

Sebastian entered Maggie Montgomery’s fashionable brothel that evening in a less than pleasant mood. His duties at the House of Lords had consumed most of his day and evening, so that he hadn’t had time to call on Helena before setting off on his nightly rounds.

  God, he missed the smell of her skin and her taste on his tongue. If she weren’t so skittish about him calling at her town house, he would go there after his search was completed. Perhaps she felt differently about allowing him into her home after their encounter at the theatre, but he would be wise to wait for her invitation. She felt strongly about being in control of such things. Not that he blamed her. She was an independent woman with no need for a man.

  He smirked. Or so she thought.

  A beast of a man dressed in livery blocked the doorway to Madam Montgomery’s receiving room. “Greetings, Lord Thorne. It is a pleasure to welcome you this evening. This way, if you please.”

  “Thank you… Charles, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  It had been a lucky guess. As far as Sebastian could tell, every man under Maggie Montgomery’s employ was named Charles. Sebastian followed her man through the large room where two young bucks waited to be entertained. One was red-faced and perched on the edge of a gold brocade chair as if he was waiting to be called before the headmaster to answer for an infraction.

  Sebastian raised an eyebrow at him. “Does your nurse know you’ve escaped the nursery?”

  His blush deepened and as soon as Sebastian passed he hissed, “This is foolish. I’m leaving.”

  Charles held the door open for Sebastian, and he entered a cozy sitting room outfitted with plush crimson fabrics. “Madam will not be pleased you are scaring away her clientele.”

  “I will pay her doubly for any lost business I caused.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  Maggie strove to create an air of sophistication by dressing her men in finery and tutoring them in proper speech, but just as in every brothel, the men were employed to keep order. If a gentleman were to forget his manners, Maggie’s men would give him a refresher lesson in the back alley.

  Sebastian had always been a gentleman through and through when he’d visited the brothel in the past, which afforded him special treatment. He would be wise not to jeopardize his position as one of the madam’s favorites. Not that he had been there in years or intended to return after tonight. Brothels were a young man’s playground.

  Charles moved to a sideboard and poured two fingers of brandy into a tumbler before carrying it to him. “Is there anything more I may do for you, my lord?”

  Sebastian raised his glass to him. “You’ve been a great help already.”

  The man hadn’t been gone long before a side door opened and Maggie swept in with four girls trailing in her wake. “Lord Thorne, how lovely to see you again.”

  He rose in deference to her and kissed her hand as he would with any lady. Her spicy lavender perfume burned a trail up his nose and he rubbed it absently. She smiled, her face more handsome when she was happy, and motioned him to take a seat.

  “Come along, girls.”

  The hired girls hustled to do her bidding and lined up in front of him.

  “I have selected only the best for you, my lord. You may choose whichever pleases you.”

  Sebastian fought to keep a frown from showing on his face. He wouldn’t want Maggie to mistake his displeasure as any of the girls’ fault. “They are all beautiful, madam, but I was hoping for an audience with you.”

  Her mouth puckered and her green eyes appeared as dull and hard as malachite. She obviously felt slighted by his request.

  Maggie had always been touted as a tasty morsel, and with her flaming tresses and voluptuous figure, she had collected many admirers. But she had given up whoring when she became a madam. It must have been around the time he’d stopped wearing short pants, he imagined.

  “I only wish to talk, madam, and I will pay well for your time for I know how valuable it is.”

  Her expression didn’t alter. For a moment, he wondered if she intended to call Charles in to teach him a lesson in manners. She snapped her fingers, and the girls scrambled to leave the room, two bumping into each other. Once they had cleared the room, she sat in a chair across from him and folded her arms. “I don’t do dirty talk no more either, Lord Thorne. What is this about?”

  Ah, there was the streetwise woman she kept hidden from most.

  “I’m looking for a girl.”

  She glowered. “I just showed you four. Did you find fault with all of them?”

  “I am looking for a particular girl. Rumor has it she was traded from a brothel in Whitechapel.”

  A tiny tic showed at her eyebrow.

  “Her name is Lavinia. Perhaps you’ve heard of her.”

  She shook her head.

  “Come now, Mags. You are not a good liar. Is she under your employ?”

  She hopped from the chair and strode to the sideboard to pour herself a brandy. Her back was rigid. “There are no girls by the name of Lavinia working for me. What do you want with her?”

  “What concern is it of yours if you don’t know the girl?”

  She turned with the tumbler in her hand. As she sipped the drink, she watched him carefully.

  “She is important to someone who is important to me,” he said. “All I need is to know how to reach her. My, uh…friend would like to reconnect with her. They were childhood playmates.”

  The hard lines around her mouth eased. “You have a mistress. Now I understand why you’ve been away so long. I suppose they became close friends working together. That happens, but it’s best for your ladybird to say farewell and forget her friend.”

  He would let Maggie think he was doing his mistress’s bidding. It seemed easier than explaining about Helena and her connection with one of the madam’s girls, not that he fully understood it himself. “It’s not for you to decide what is best for my friend,” he said.

  “Fair enough, but I’m afraid I cannot give you information about Lavinia. I was paid well to keep my mouth shut.”

  Once Maggie mentioned money, negotiations were at hand. Sebastian hid his pleasure behind a mask of indifference. “And how much to open your mouth again?”

  “I gave my word, Lord Thorne. My word is my bond.” She slanted a smile in his direction. “I did not, however, promise I wouldn’t write down her address in exchange for a hundred pounds.”

  “My, that is a well-defined promise you didn’t make.” Sebastian returned her smile. “How fortuitous that I happen to have a hundred pounds I can spare. Shall we complete our business now?”

  Her hard eyes bore into him. “We have no business, Lord Thorne. You were not here and never spoke to me. Do we understand each other?”

  “Perfectly. Who are you again?”

  She rolled her eyes and a reluctant smile spread across her ruby lips. “I hate that I’ve missed having you around, my lord.”

  “I hear that often.”

  An hour later, Sebastian stood outside a modest town house on the edge of Chelsea, trying to make sense of the darkened windows and silence. He’d been certain the address would lead him to a lively gathering of the demimonde where one engaged in all sorts of debauchery and merrymaking. Instead, he found what appeared to be arespectable household.

  Bollocks. If Maggie had lied, she would have to answer to him, hulking beasts in livery be damned. He returned to his carriage. His footman opened the door for Sebastian to climb inside and awaited instructions. Fleetingly, Sebastian considered stopping at Helena’s on his way home despite his earlier concerns. She would be thrilled to learn he had gotten a lead on Lavinia. She might even be grateful.

  A slow grin spread across his lips. Perhaps exceedingly grateful.

  His eagerness faded as he considered the possible impact the evening could have on her, however. He didn’t know yet if the information Maggie had given him was real. How could he raise Helena’s hopes when there was a chance of disappointing her
?

  He couldn’t. He swiped a hand down his face, weariness seeping into his bones, and sank against the carriage cushion, then peered at the house once more. Before involving Helena, he should discover who resided at the town house on Walpole Street.

  “Take me home,” he said with a sigh. A hollowness expanded in his chest as he realized it had been over twenty-four hours since he’d held Helena.

  Very well. He could admit that was different too.

  ***

  Helena listlessly twirled her parasol as she, Eve, and Lady Norwick meandered through Hyde Park with Fergus trailing behind them. He claimed he had no interest in ladies’ chitchat, but she had twice caught the Scot chuckling over one of her companions’ quips.

  Eve and the Countess of Norwick were equally matched in wits, and Helena enjoyed their company a great deal. Usually. Today, however, all she could think on was Sebastian. She’d been trying all afternoon to inconspicuously introduce the topic of what business kept him away from her.

  He had not attended charades at Lady Orham’s town house last night, and today Eve had arrived at Helena’s home with only Lady Norwick in tow. Since their encounter at the theatre, she’d seen neither hide nor hair of him. Was he done with her so quickly? She knew his attachments were short-lived, but surely not this soon.

  She glanced sideways at Eve and swallowed hard. She couldn’t bring herself to ask after him for fear her companions would know how hopelessly smitten she was. It was a sickness, pining for him as she did. How had it come to this? She had been determined not to succumb to his charm like every other lady in Town, but there was no help for it. Sebastian Thorne was irresistible, and worse, he knew it.

  A light honeysuckle-scented breeze grazed her hot cheeks, and she tried once again to attend to Eve and Lady Norwick’s conversation.

  “Has Sir Jonathan professed his feelings for you yet?” the countess asked.

  Eve’s dark lashes blinked in agitation. “Heavens, no! We’ve barely known each other a sennight.”

  “There is no specific time allotment for love, dearest. One can fall in love quite quickly, isn’t that correct, Lady Prestwick?”

  Helena startled at her question. “I…uh… Well, I cannot speak to such things.”

  Lady Norwick’s smile was too sweet and innocent while her chocolate brown eyes sparked with mischief. “Can’t you, my dear? What a pity. I thought for certain you were woolgathering about a particular gentleman a moment ago.”

  Eve covered a giggle with her hand.

  “I wasn’t woolgathering.” Helena fanned herself with her free hand, her body aflame now. “I was thinking.”

  The countess and Eve burst into laughter.

  “Not about Lord Thorne,” she blurted and winced. “I mean, I was considering what gown to wear to Almack’s next week.”

  Eve linked arms and hugged Helena to her side. “Don’t be embarrassed. I would be pleased to call you my sister.”

  Even as she shook her head to dispel any notions of a future with Sebastian, warm tingles radiated within her chest. How she would love to have a lasting relationship with him and claim Eve as family, but it couldn’t be. Not unless she abandoned her dream of finding her sisters and providing a better life for them. And she would rather die than give it up.

  Eve gasped, startling her from her reverie. “It’s Sir Jonathan. What is he doing here?”

  “Enjoying this lovely weather, I imagine.” Lady Norwick gave her a nudge. “You may go greet him, Miss Thorne, as long as he remains a respectable distance.”

  Eve didn’t require further encouragement and hurried ahead while Lady Norwick and Helena slowed their steps.

  “I’ve known Sir Jonathan since I was a girl,” Lady Norwick said, “and I’ve never seen him as taken with a young lady as he is with Miss Thorne.”

  “He seems like a decent man.” Sir Jonathan was untroubled by Eve’s broken betrothal and even less so by her unladylike curiosity. Helena appreciated that about him.

  “He is one of the better ones, I must admit. I felt certain he and Miss Thorne would get on if only they made each others’ acquaintance.”

  Helena stopped in the middle of the path, as did Lady Norwick. “You played matchmaker for Eve?”

  The countess shrugged one shoulder and a pleasant pink color tinged her cheeks.

  Lady Norwick had a reputation for being a force to respect, but rarely did anyone speak of her gracious spirit.

  Helena brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “Please don’t be offended, my lady, but what led you to help a young woman you had never met until recently?”

  “I could ask you the same, Helena.”

  A heated blush swept over her face. She resumed walking to avoid answering. She couldn’t admit to her agreement with Sebastian.

  Lady Norwick matched her pace and entwined their arms. “Forgive me if I was too forward. Naturally, I assumed we had similar motives. I know what it’s like to be judged by others, but whereas I earned my reputation for being bad ton, Miss Thorne did not. If I was given a second chance, how much more deserving is she? Everyone deserves a second chance at happiness, don’t you agree?”

  Tears pricked Helena’s eyes. The countess likely had no idea how much her words meant to Helena. Suddenly, she felt as if she had someone to confide in about her sisters. Someone who would understand and not judge. Yet, Eve needed Lady Norwick more than Helena did.

  “Yes,” she said on a breath. “Eve deserves a second chance.”

  And Helena could be a liability. If Society learned of her past, Helena’s association with Eve could make her an outcast again.

  She shook her head slightly. She couldn’t do that to her friend.

  Sebastian should know the truth about the woman he was seeking, and if he chose to withdraw his help, Helena must understand. She was willing to put her sisters above her happiness. If Sebastian put his sister ahead of Helena, she had no cause to complain.

  But the prospect still hurt.

  Eighteen

  After a bit of assistance from his servants, Sebastian learned the town house on Walpole Street belonged to the Marquess of St. Ambrose, a bachelor every marriage-minded mother dreamed of snagging for her daughter. It wasn’t the home where he resided—St. Ambrose lived in a grander house on Park Street bordering Hyde Park—but it was rumored the marquess paid calls to the young woman letting the town house.

  From all accounts, she was a great beauty who mostly kept to herself. Some speculated she was St. Ambrose’s mistress, but since she was never a nuisance to her neighbors, everyone tended to their own affairs. Despite Sebastian’s attempts to learn her name, her identity remained a mystery. This was the reason he was standing on her stoop, ready to go to the source for an answer.

  Late afternoon sun reflected off a brass knocker engraved with the initial S. It was warm to the touch when he grasped it to rap twice. He stood with his hands linked behind his back, waiting. There were sounds of movement from within, but several moments passed before the heavy oak door creaked open. A bespectacled woman with graying hair pulled back into a tight knot blinked at him through the crack.

  “Yes, sir?” Her voice quivered.

  He offered a disarming smile to ease her worries and pulled a calling card from his case. “Good afternoon. I am Lord Thorne and I am here at the behest of Lady Helena Prestwick. May I speak with the lady of the house?”

  The woman stared at him with parted lips. “The lady of the house, milord?”

  “Your mistress, Miss Lavinia…” Helena had never supplied him with a last name. “Uh, just Lavinia, I believe. It is important I speak with her.”

  Grooves in the woman’s forehead deepened, and the sound of heels clicking on the marble floor caught his attention before a soft voice reached them. “Who is it, Edith? Delivery men are to come to the back.”

  A woman with a face very similar to Helena’s came up behind Edith. She shared Helena’s eye color too, but there was a jaded light to hers Helena didn
’t have. “I will see to the gentleman while you return to preparing our tea.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  The taller woman patted Edith on the back, then filled the doorway to block his view. “What is it you want, sir?”

  “Are you Lavinia, the young woman formerly under Madam Montgomery’s employ?”

  Her glare would have struck him dead if she had that power. “I am no longer in the business of entertaining,” she hissed. “You should leave at once.”

  Sebastian balked. “Egads! You have misjudged the situation, miss.” How many other men had arrived at her door demanding special treatment? And she thought he was one of them. He felt slightly queasy. “I am here on Lady Prestwick’s behalf. Not to be entertained.”

  “I don’t know Lady Prestwick, so I’ll send you on your way.”

  As the door was being closed in his face, he called out. “Helena! Your sister, Helena, is looking for you.”

  He was guessing at their relationship, but the strong resemblance made it clear they were family. It wasn’t unusual to have illegitimate half siblings, nor was he concerned about what Helena’s father had gotten up to.

  The door froze an inch before it closed. Slowly, it eased open and frigid eyes narrowed on him. “How do you know about Helena?” she asked in a fierce whisper. “My sister died nine years ago.”

  He lowered his voice to match hers even though the street was deserted. “The devil she did. She is here in London, and she has been looking for you, risking her life in Whitechapel until her search led to Madam Montgomery’s.”

  The woman’s breath hitched and the moment it dawned on her that he was telling the truth showed in the softening of her face. She was a beauty, just as rumors suggested, but she lacked Helena’s warmth and hopeful air. He supposed he couldn’t blame her, though. Helena’s sister couldn’t have lived an easy life.

  “Please, I just need a moment of your time.”

  “Helena is alive,” she said more to herself than him and stepped back to allow the door to open. “Please, come in, Mr…?”

  He held out the calling card Edith hadn’t taken. “Thorne.”