If He's Tempted

by Hannah Howell

  The bitterness in his voice coated every word and Olympia had to struggle against the urge to wince. She wondered if he still mourned his lost love, and then immediately doubted it. He had not seen Faith for a year before he had discovered that his own mother had sold the woman to the brothel where she was cruelly murdered. It had been two years since that discovery. A touch of grief for chances lost would be reasonable even after so long but Brant did not strike her as the sort of man to cling to such a loss like some mournful poet. Something else kept him bitter and angry, but she knew now was not the time to try to work out that puzzle. Agatha needed their help and her cause held a great deal more urgency.

  “Can you not simply refuse to consent to the arrangement?” she asked and frowned when he looked a little embarrassed. “You are the head of the household, are you not?”

  “I am, but, let us just say that my power has been severely reduced, especially as concerns anything that pertains to my sister Agatha.”

  “How was that done? Law always puts the man in the ruling position.”

  “Well, I suspect some very attractive bribes were used. Perhaps a little blackmail. And, I also aided in my loss of power with my own less than sterling behavior over the last two or three years. Mother demanded full control over Agatha and got it. I was thinking of how I might get my sister out of Mother’s reach, especially since I cannot just send her to school as I did with my brothers, when all chance to do anything was abruptly taken away from me. It was as if Mother had somehow heard of my plans soon enough to ruin them.”

  “Ah, well, I suspect she did just that. I believe your butler is her man. I began to suspect there was something amiss here when there was no response to any plea Agatha sent you or any of my messages. Debauched though you might be,” she said, ignoring his frown, “you never seemed to me to be the sort of man to be so, well, rude. Then when the man so disdainfully dismissed me and refused me entrance . . .”

  “You knocked him down.”

  “I realized my suspicions were right.”

  “Ah, so that was what happened. Your acknowledging your own suspicions flattened him.” He smiled when she scowled at him and he could hear Thomas snickering. “Shall we have a word with Wilkins?”

  “I believe that is a splendid idea.”

  “I can have one now and then,” he murmured.

  Olympia ignored him. “Shall we speak to him in here or in the hall?”

  “I shall have your man bring him in here and help him into a seat.”

  She watched Brant walk to the door. For one who spent far too much time buried in a bottle or a woman, he was still a fine figure of a man. There was a graceful strength to his walk. Broad shoulders required no padding to make his coat fit superbly. His long legs were shaped perfectly and clearly well muscled. To remain so fit, there had to be times when he was not sunk deep in the damaging ills of debauchery.

  Olympia began to feel a little flushed and warm again and scowled. That made no sense to her. She was no schoolroom miss unused to dealing with men, and far past the age where a pair of very fine gray eyes set in a handsome face should be enough to make her heart beat faster. When Pawl dragged in Wilkins, who was very unsteady on his feet, she forced her attention to them. She refused to embarrass herself before the earl with signs of some foolish infatuation.

  The moment Wilkins was seated with Pawl standing behind him, the man began to sweat and all the insolence he had shown Olympia rapidly disappeared. She looked at Brant as he stood in front of Wilkins and decided the butler’s nervousness was warranted. Brant was every inch the Earl of Fieldgate at the moment and, she sensed, a very angry earl as well. No one liked to be spied upon. To be spied upon by a mother he had disowned yet continued to support most generously had to gall the man.

  “I have been told that my young sister Agatha has been attempting to reach me concerning some trouble she is having, yet I have seen not a word from her in weeks,” Brant said. “The baroness,” he nodded his head in Olympia’s direction, “has also sent me messages concerning the very same troubles for nearly a fortnight but, yet again, I have seen nothing, heard nothing.”

  “M’lord, you have been indisposed,” began Wilkins and then he hunched his shoulders in a self-protective gesture as if he could defend himself against the fury darkening Brant’s eyes.

  “Do not attempt to cast the blame for this upon my shoulders. I may have sunk myself too deeply into a pit of debauchery to still be considered respectable, but I have not done that so deeply that I would miss or forget weeks of desperate messages from my own sister. Most days I am able to tend to the business that keeps us all fed and clothed. I believe I was more than capable of reading a message or two from my sister or the baroness as well. Why did I not see or hear anything, Wilkins?”

  Wilkins replied in an unsteady voice. “Her ladyship warned me that your sister was having some childish fit over the marriage being arranged for her and that you should not be troubled by any of it.”

  “Should not be troubled by the news that my mother means to force my sister, a girl newly turned sixteen, into a marriage with a man more than thrice her age, a man so debauched and reviled that even his great riches can no longer gain him entrance into any of the better homes? So reviled that despite his good birth he is considered by most to be no better than some dockside heathen?”

  “Her ladyship warned me that you did not like the man she had chosen for young Lady Agatha.”

  “Did she? So you not only denied me the right to read my own correspondence but you discussed the matter with my mother. Since you apparently bow to her ladyship’s will, and not mine, I believe it is past time you joined her household.”

  “But, m’lord . . .”

  “No, Wilkins, I will heed no more of what you have to say unless it includes other secrets you have kept from me. The ones who work for me owe me their loyalty. You have chosen to give that loyalty to my mother instead. Now, before you leave to join the one you truly work for, I would like the names of any others within my household that she holds in her service.” When the butler said nothing, Brant shrugged. “I suspect I can determine who on my staff bows to my mother without your help.” He looked at the boot boy, the child that was by blood his own brother. “Perhaps, Thomas, you would be so kind as to accompany Wilkins to his rooms and make certain that he takes only what is truly his when he leaves.”

  Wilkins leapt to his feet, startling Pawl, who had stepped back to allow the man to leave the room. “You would put that misbegotten brat in charge of me? I am the butler. He . . . he is naught but the boot boy and a by-blow.”

  Brant crossed his arms over his chest and studied Wilkins. “Might I remind you that you are no longer the butler in this household? Did you just miss the moment when I quite clearly dismissed you? I am curious, however, to know just how long you have known the truth about young Thomas.”

  “From the beginning, m’lord,” Wilkins replied, the regret he felt over being forced to tell the truth clear to hear in his voice. “Her ladyship made it very clear to all of us that no one should speak of the matter. Ever. Especially to you. It was a shame she preferred to keep hidden away.”

  Shaking his head, Brant asked, “Are there any others?”

  “I can tell you about the others, m’lord,” said Thomas. “You do not need to talk to this fool about it.”

  “You watch how you speak to your betters, lad,” snapped Wilkins.

  “Out,” Brant ordered Wilkins, knowing that he was very close to hitting the man and he refused to stoop to such behavior. “Gather up what is yours and leave here now.”

  It was several moments before Wilkins, still reluctant to be escorted by Thomas, had to accept his fate. Pawl went along with the boy to keep an eye on the butler. Olympia watched as Brant walked to a window and stared at the sadly neglected gardens it overlooked.

  “It appears I have paid a gardener to do naught as well,” he muttered. “When I discover what the man actually does instead of te
nding to my gardens, I will send him trotting off to my mother right behind Wilkins.”

  Olympia knew the words of annoyance about the neglected garden were not the subtle change of subject some might think. Or even just a quiet statement of annoyance over the many machinations his mother was involved in within his own household. Brant was in shock. She could read the echoes of the strong emotions wrenching through him; they marked the air wherever he stood. The man was groping to accept the truth he was far too intelligent to ignore. He may have turned his back on his mother, but she had never taken her claws out of him, had continued to keep a close eye on all he did and said.

  Not certain what to do, Olympia moved to stand beside him. It was not a comfortable place to be as it left her sadly torn between the urge to comfort and the urge to demand that he hurry up and do something to help his sister. Accustomed to stubborn, even moody, men, Olympia quietly studied the neglected garden, could see the bones of an elegant design amongst the overgrown flowers and weeds, and decided Lady Mallam cared nothing about Fieldgate. It did not fill her coffers enough to make the woman happy. Olympia also suspected that the blatant neglect of her son’s properties probably delighted the woman. Lady Letitia Mallam was not the sort to have even her own blood turn a back to her and ignore what she wanted of him.

  “I suspect my family can help you find trustworthy, hardworking people to replace the ones your mother has corrupted,” Olympia said.

  “And why should your family care to assist me?” he asked as he leaned against the thick wooden frame of the huge window and looked at Olympia.

  “You and Ashton are very close and Ashton is now a part of the Wherlocke-Vaughn clan.”

  Brant knew it was foolish but he was deeply touched by her words. It had been a long time since he had heard anyone say such things. Through his own actions he had lost touch with most of his friends. Ashton was married and his other closest friends did not care to join him once he had begun to sink so deep into debauchery. Cordell, Whitney, and Victor were busy doing the tour of the various estates holding grand house parties, none of which Brant had been invited to.

  That good feeling began to fade beneath anger although he was not truly certain exactly what or whom he was angry at. It was just wrong that his only offer of aid and support should come from a young woman he barely knew. The fact that there was no one else close at hand was not fully his fault either, despite his poor behavior of the last two or three years.

  “I do thank you, m’lady, but this is my trouble, my family, and I will tend to it.”

  “I believe you will have more than enough to do, m’lord, since it is not just a new staff you must needs tend to, is it?”

  “The fact that my sister Agatha is in dire need of whatever assistance I can give has not escaped my attention.”

  Olympia knew she should just step back and say nothing for a while. The man was getting angry. She knew it was not really an anger aimed at her, but whatever he said or did if he let that anger loose would be directed right at her. She was the nearest target, the bearer of the bad news. Backing away from an argument was not in her nature, however.

  “If you wish a fight, m’lord, then I am more than ready to give you one. But, if all you are looking for is someone or something to shake a fist at, mayhap you should take a walk until your blood cools.”

  Brant cursed and began to pace the room. He was being forced to look too closely at the wreck his life had become in the last few years and he did not want to see it. Seeing it made him also see what he could have done differently. For one thing, he would not be wondering what he could do to help Agatha for he would have her in his home, out of reach of their mother’s plots and schemes.

  “I should have done something about the woman,” he muttered.

  “Such as what? She is your mother, a countess. You probably cannot even threaten to beggar her to bring her in line. I suspect she has a few holdings of her own as well, does she not?”

  “She does, but nothing of any great value. Her lands produce a good income, adequate for a widow. It was her dower property. When she married my father she did appear to gain more and more access to all of his properties, her skill with the finances of them all making him amiable to the arrangement. And, she did keep the lands running efficiently and at an impressive profit for a while despite all his profligate ways. Then shortly after my father died things grew a little less profitable and efficient which is why I entered into some investments with my friends.”

  “In other words, as soon as your father was no longer watching her so closely or perhaps when all entailed lands went to you at his death, she was not so careful with the money.”

  “You believe she has been cheating me.”

  “I do.”

  He sighed. “That is highly possible. I have been the one dealing in the investments since the beginning so she gets only what I send her from that for maintaining her households. I have consistently had difficulty in getting all the accounts from the other properties but I did get the ones from this one. It being the main seat of the earls of Fieldgate, it was rather difficult for her, or the man of business my father used, to hide them.”

  Olympia had to bite her tongue to keep from asking him why he had not torn the woman’s greedy little hands off everything he owned. It was not her trouble, not her family. She supposed it was a hard thing to face. He would have had to accept that his mother not only sold the woman he loved into death but had been cheating him of his inheritance from the beginning. One crime, no matter how vicious and cold, could be excused, explained, ignored. Two could not be. What he was being forced to see was that his own mother was not simply cold and heartless to others, able to do things to others he found reprehensible, but she had no real feeling for her own children, either. He had faced that enough to try and get his younger siblings out of the woman’s reach but Olympia suspected a lot of the drinking and wenching were done to help him ignore the full, vicious truth.

  “There were a lot of inconsistencies,” he said quietly. “A lot.”

  “So she has been bleeding you dry for a long time.”

  “I suspect she started even before my father died. I was looking into it but now believe the men I had doing the work of unearthing the truth were already her men, never mine.”

  “Clever,” Olympia murmured. “She has probably been turning them to her side for years.”

  “Do you know, it should have been the first thought I had when I noticed some of the entries in the estate books were incorrect. It was subtle and I could see that subtle bleeding away of funds had been going on for a very long time. Yet, despite what she had done to Faith, I could not completely accept the fact that my own mother would steal from me, from all of her children for she has undoubtedly bled funds from every property my father willed to each one of us.

  “There could be excuses made for what she did to Faith. Nothing that would forgive what she had done but ones that could mitigate the horrible results of her actions. There is nothing one can think of to excuse the blatant theft from her own children.”

  “It all comes back to why she is about to sell Agatha to Minden.”

  “Money. Lots of it, I suspect. Why trouble yourself with a slow theft when you can get a lot of money quickly by selling your own child. I have the appalling thought that she may have done the same to my two older sisters although that was surely done with my father’s full consent, for he too loved money and was always in need of more. Nor did he bow to my mother’s wishes very often.”

  “Your older sisters are unhappy in their unions?”

  “Miserably so and have been for a very long time. When young and still idealistic, I did attempt to thrash some faithfulness and caring into their husbands but failed at that. They healed and continued on as they always had. Mary and Alice told me not to trouble myself again. Since then I have noticed that both of them have grown much harder, more bitter.”

  “You would not have had to trouble yourself for me. I would hav
e killed and buried them before you would have had time to be outraged.” She smiled faintly when he laughed. “I do not fully jest, you realize.”

  “Oh, I do indeed realize that.”

  “There has to be some way to get your sister Agatha clear of this mess. She is a sweet child and I shudder to think of that filth Minden touching her.”

  “It is good of you to care so much for what happens to my sister but I know of her troubles and can handle them now.” Brant thought that sounded a bit arrogant but could think of no way to soften the words. “It is my place as her brother to do so.”

  “I am the one who promised her the help she needed and thus I believe I have a place in the solving of this trouble.”

  “I am certain Agatha knows you have done all you are able to or should be expected to do. The thought that my sister would expect you to actually join in the solving of what is a private family matter is absurd.” The moment the words left his mouth, Brant knew he had just made a serious mistake.

  Chapter 4

  “Did you just call me absurd?”

  Brant almost took a step back from the feminine fury before him, but was proud of how he stood firm. He doubted there were many men who could do so before the look in Lady Olympia’s eyes. Although the woman had done a great deal to warn him about the danger Agatha was in as well as help his sister finally reach him, he could not allow her to get any more involved than she already was. His mother was a dangerous woman.

  “I did not call you absurd,” he said firmly. “I meant no more than the fact that you intend to ride to Agatha’s rescue at my side was somewhat absurd.” The way her full lips firmed as her frown became more of a scowl told Brant that he was not explaining himself well at all, was quite possibly just making matters worse.

  “Was I not the one who brought you the news about your sister?”

  “You were indeed, m’lady, but now it is my place, my duty, to help Agatha.”