If He's Tempted

by Hannah Howell

  “Was he?” Brant asked Abel, dreading the answer.

  “Well, the maid did say her brother was,” Abel paused and frowned, “his lordship‘s last frolic.”

  And there it was, Brant thought, the blow he had been waiting for. “It appears my father frolicked quite a bit before he died,” he muttered.

  Yet another half brother. Yet another child his father had bred and left to be no more than a servant in his household. One could be left to believe that his father had decided to fill his need for workers by simply breeding them. It also appeared that his mother was finally working to rid herself of all living reminders of her husband’s consistent unfaithfulness. The fact that, in doing so, she also punished the child and filled her purse she no doubt saw as an added and pleasant benefit. She cared nothing for the fact that she was destroying an innocent child. Suddenly all the food he had eaten churned in his belly with a vengeance.

  Olympia took one look at Brant’s pale features and quietly sent everyone else out of the room. There was a great deal that needed to be discussed but Brant was too deeply shocked to participate yet. She moved to the sideboard, poured a small glass of brandy, and went to his side. As she held the drink out to him, she lightly stroked his dark brown hair, which was only lightly tied back in a queue. It was something she did to comfort all the boys when they had need, yet the urge to comfort Brant was only a small part of what she experienced as she touched his thick, silken soft hair.

  “Not sure I should drink this,” Brant said even as he took the brandy she had poured for him.

  “Why not?” Olympia reluctantly removed her hand from his hair, certain he might soon guess the fact that it was no longer a completely innocent caress.

  “I have become too fond of drink,” Brant murmured as he stared at the amber liquid.

  Olympia pulled a chair closer to his and sat down facing him. “You begin to think you have reached that point where you have too much need of it.”

  “Yes. I have not had any since the night before you came to Fieldgate and I was just wondering if I have gone so long without at any time during the last few years. It has not truly been so very long this time, either, yet I now fear that one drink could well lead to too many others. It is also still morning.”

  “And you have just had a grave shock.”

  “I believe I have had quite a few of those since you first appeared at my door,” he drawled and smiled faintly.

  “If you wish my opinion on it, I do not believe you are a drunkard. That is often a thing I can easily sense about a person, despite how well some can hide it from others. I do not sense that weakness in you. I can, however, get you something else to drink, if you would prefer it.”

  He shook his head and took a drink. The heat of the brandy quickly spread through his body, pushing aside the numbing effect of shock. By the time he finished the drink, the shock that had held him so tightly was gone but the pain of the knowledge he now had still lingered. He studied the empty glass and was relieved, however, as a certainty gripped him. It told him that he would not be looking for peace through the thick cloud of too much drink this time and he set the glass down on the table.

  “I knew my father was a faithless swine,” he said quietly, “but I never heard talk of any bastards being bred. Considering the number of beds he played in that was remarkably blind of me. Even blinder of me to live amongst brothers, to allow them to serve me and mine, and not even once recognizing them for who they really were.”

  “And why should you?”

  “Because my father was feckless in all he did. At some time in my life it should have occurred to me that he might carry such feckless behavior into the beds, hedgerows, and taverns he frequented.” He grimaced. “He bred six children upon my mother, after all. Three when he was a robust young man and three when he was an aging roué whose every sin was carved into his face and body.”

  “Most of my kinsmen are clever fellows, cautious in many things, yet most of them can also claim an illegitimate child or two.” She placed her hand over his tightly clenched one where it rested against his thigh. “The only sure way to avoid breeding a child is not to bed a woman.”

  “Ah, but your relations do not hide the fact that they have children, claiming and caring for them as best they can. In fact, no one in your family attempts to hide those children away and they certainly do not put their children into service at their own residences.”

  Olympia tilted her head, leaning closer so that she could smile directly at him. “You have met the children Penelope cared for. Can you see any of them in service to anyone?”

  Brant smiled at the thought. “No. Never. I recall tales of young Hector when he played the page for the Lady Clarissa Hutton-Moore. If not for her physical abuse of the boy, the whole interlude would have been the source for many a hearty laugh.”

  She laughed and the warmth of her breath caressed his face. Brant was surprised at how swiftly his lust stirred to life. His fingers itched to be buried in her thick, black hair, only lightly confined by a ribbon that matched her beautiful eyes, and tumbling in long, heavy waves to her slender waist. There was the glint of lingering amusement brightening her eyes. Her full lips were parted slightly as she gave in to her amusement, and, suddenly, he just had to kiss her.

  When he leaned toward her and put his mouth on hers, Olympia’s amusement fled beneath a wave of heat. She knew she should pull away from him. It was too soon to act upon what he made her feel, too soon to be sure in her own mind that she wanted to explore the attraction between them to its fullest. Yet, she could not find the strength to move.

  Her whole body softened and she pressed against him as he wrapped his arms around her. She readily opened her mouth in response to the light push of his tongue. The way he stroked the inside of her mouth sent heat flooding throughout her body. His hands threaded through her hair only added to that hot need that swept over her.

  Olympia had enough sense left to realize that she felt no fear. She felt only want and need. A greedy desire to take even more pleasure from this man. It was not until he moved, his elbow knocking over the glass on the table, that she gained enough strength to retreat from the heady desire he had filled her with. She placed a hand on his chest and gently pushed. The fact that he immediately eased his hold on her only added to her belief that she could trust this man to treat her with care and respect.

  She stared into his eyes, the gray darkened almost to black by his desire. It was heady to have such a man show such passion for her. Olympia liked the way it made her feel to have such a man want her. She now knew why she had felt the pinch of envy when she saw how Ashton looked at Penelope.

  Brant looked at the woman that he now held lightly in his arms. Her lips were still wet and reddened from his kiss, tempting him as he had never been tempted before. He knew he should fight his desire for her. Not only was she a baroness with a very large family, most of it male, but there was an innocence about her that told him her short marriage had not taught her much nor had she indulged herself with any man since then. He was a man with a mother who thought nothing of selling innocent children into the flesh trade, a lot of dependents including what could be a vast horde of illegitimate siblings, and a reputation as a drinker, gambler, and womanizer.

  Before he could think of what to say, or give in to temptation and try to kiss her again, the boys returned. Each one eyed him with blatant suspicion but Olympia soon diverted their attention from him and how close he was to the woman they felt a need to protect. Brant hastily poured himself more coffee as everyone retook their seats.

  “I think we need to get out there and hunt for the maid’s brother and my brothers,” said Thomas. “We have been looking,” he hastily added with a glance at Brant, “but mostly for information on what Lady Mallam is about.”

  “Well, to be fair,” said Olympia, “we are now quite certain that Lady Mallam is behind the matter of the children going missing. Finding out who she is dealing with could lead us to th
e children.”

  “I know, but I am thinking we need to do both so as to hurry things along. Bad things could be happening to the ones taken away.”

  Brant had no doubt that very bad things were happening to the ones his mother had spirited away. “Perhaps I should go and talk with my mother,” he said even as he realized it would be a waste of his time.

  “I think you know that will do no good,” said Olympia, sympathy softening her tone. “She will do her best to either not speak to you at all or lie. We only know of her part in the last incident because a ghost spoke to Penelope.”

  “I pray we do not find any ghosts this time.”

  “As do we all. Howbeit, I think Thomas is right. We all need to push harder and look in more directions. Now the most important thing is to find those children.”

  Brant nodded. “You are right. Whatever we discover about my mother or Minden will just be an added benefit to finally putting an end to her crimes.”

  “You also need to speak to a solicitor. My cousin Andras Vaughn could help there and there will be no need to fear he might be compromised by whatever power your mother might bring to bear against him. Doubt there is anything she could use to bring Andras to heel as he is a surprisingly well-behaved man.” She was pleased to see the brief smile on Brant’s face. “He could begin to look into how you might regain full control of your own household.”

  “And how would he do that?”

  “By finding out how your mother got the power to push you aside as head of the household. That is very unusual. In truth, considering the sort of men who retain complete control of their households despite their various deprivations, I would say it is a near miracle.”

  Artemis nodded. “To give power to a woman when there is a man holding the title is unheard of.”

  “She got it and I know it is because she found men she could force to do her bidding,” Brant said. “Mother always did like to ferret out people’s darkest secrets. I have no doubt that blackmail and, perhaps, some bribery was used. I need to find out who she holds in her power.”

  “Then that is what we will do,” said Olympia. “Look for signs of the lost children, find out who was bent to your mother’s will and why, and get Andras to talk to you and start to use his magic to dig up all the ugly truth. And, of course, keep Minden from getting his filthy hands on young Agatha.”

  It was only a short time before everyone but her was gone. Olympia slumped back in her chair as she tried to put her thoughts into order. Brant and Thomas were off to meet with Andras. Her young boys, carefully culled from all the poor boys on the street, were off to try and find out where the missing children may have been taken, and her nephews were off to see what they could discover about Minden. Now all she had to do was decide what society event she could attend that would give her the best chance of getting some information.

  “I would rather be out on the streets with the boys,” she grumbled as she looked through the scattered remains of breakfast to see if there was anything left to eat.

  “Do not even think of joining them on that quest,” said Enid as she walked up to the table and began to collect up the dishes.

  Olympia stood up to help her only to be waved back into her seat. “Do you lurk outside the door waiting for me to talk to myself so that you can leap in with an answer?”

  “But of course. It is my favorite game. Either that or you talk to yourself far too much.”

  “I suspect it is the latter. And roaming the streets with the boys would be far, far preferable to dragging myself to some boring society event just so I can wade through bushels of useless gossip in the hope of finding some useful snippet.”

  “True, but the boys cannot do it nor, it appears, can the earl.”

  “How can a mother destroy the reputation of her own child?”

  “How can a woman sell children into a life of pure hell?”

  “There is that. We should have done something about her after finding out about her part in selling poor Faith to that madam.”

  “That was the earl’s right and he chose to simply cut her out of his life. I think he had that arrogance men often do concerning women and thought she might not have fully understood what she had condemned Faith to or that she would dare to continue in her evil ways after he had confronted her with his knowledge of her crimes. I think the woman counts very heavily on that arrogance in men.”

  “Quite possibly. This could all end very badly. He is appalled by what she has done but she is still the woman who gave him life. How harsh a punishment can he make himself dole out to her? Could he hand her over to the authorities for imprisonment or hanging? Could he do her harm himself? It is such a dark, troubling business.”

  Enid stroked Olympia’s hair. “I believe he will make certain she cannot do harm again. I also believe he will lose all softness, if he has any left in him even now, for the woman as he finds out more and more about just what she has done. He treats his wee half brother well and I know he offered a living or schooling to the others so he cares for ones of his own blood as a man should. Think how he will feel when he discovers just what she has done to those children.”

  “But he already knows.”

  “He thinks he does but he has not yet actually seen it with his own eyes.”

  “Ah, no, he has not. One can think one knows something but actually seeing it always makes a far stronger impression. He is still due a great many hard blows.”

  “And you mean to try and help soften the pain of it, aye?”

  “I think I do.” Olympia stood up and brushed off the skirts of her morning gown. “I best go and prepare myself for a day of weak tea and stale cakes. I have several little gatherings I can go to. Let us pray I get what I need from the first one or I shall come home in an evil mood.” She shared a grin with Enid and then hurried to her room to ready herself.

  Olympia watched Lady Nickerson waddle away and forced herself not to rub at the ache that was torturing her temples. The woman did love to talk and most of it was simply a repeating of nasty gossip. It was no more than she had gotten at the last three houses she had been to but this time was one time too many. It was time to give up, go home, and find out what clever Enid might be able to give her for the headache now pounding away behind her eyes.

  Just as she began to make her way to Lady Brindle to take her leave, more guests arrived. Olympia almost groaned in dismay for it was none other than Lady Mallam and young Agatha. She was proud of Agatha, however, when the young woman glanced her way but acted as if she had not seen anyone she knew. Agatha might be young but she had wit enough to know how to play the game they needed to play to free her from her mother.

  It was almost an hour before she was introduced to Lady Mallam by their hostess. Olympia had been ready to just give up and go home when the young, sweet, but a bit silly Lady Brindle brought Lady Mallam and Agatha over and introduced them. Although they had never been formally introduced before, it was clear from the look in Lady Mallam’s eyes that she knew exactly who Olympia was and that her opinion of her was not a favorable one.

  “Your family rarely attends such events, Lady Wherlocke,” said Lady Mallam.

  “I happened to be in the city to do some shopping and felt I should make the rounds,” replied Olympia.

  “I believe you have met my son, however. The Earl of Fieldgate?”

  “Yes, at the wedding of Radmoor and my niece. And again when my brother wed the Duke of Sundunmoor’s daughter.” She could tell by the flicker of irritation in the woman’s eyes that she did not like to be reminded of the many connections the Wherlockes had.

  “I was surprised that the duke allowed my son to attend the event as I fear he has fallen far from grace in society.”

  “Really? I did not think the duke had much to do with society.” The way Agatha suddenly found an intense interest in the drapes on the windows told Olympia that the girl was fighting the urge to laugh but, again, revealed she had wit enough to know that would be a mistake
.

  “I referred to my son. I heard that you and he arrived in town at the same time. It behooves me to warn you about him. He is not the sort a young woman of your stature should associate with, not if you wish to keep your place in society.”

  Olympia supposed she ought to be pleased that she now had proof that it was Lady Mallam herself who was blackening Brant’s name but all she wanted to do was punch the woman in the mouth. It was odd that such a woman could be so evil. Lady Mallam was attractive, age having done little to dim her classic beauty. Yet there was a coldness in her eyes, eyes exactly like Brant’s. Olympia knew that coldness went right to the woman’s soul. She also sensed that Lady Mallam hated her own son. She doubted she could ever understand that.

  “Fieldgate is the good friend of my nephew by marriage.”

  “Of course, familial ties and all. Yet, even those should be reconsidered when dealing with a man of my son’s ilk.” She reached out and patted Olympia on the arm. “You are still young enough to make a good match, m’dear. It would not be wise to allow even that close connection dim your hopes because your good name has been sullied by acknowledging a man like my son has become. It breaks my mother’s heart to say such things, but I felt you should know the truth.”

  Olympia was so angry she barely heard anything else the woman had to say as she took her leave, ushering a silent Agatha toward Lady Nickerson. That Lady Mallam acted as if that woman was her dearest friend told Olympia that Brant’s mother knew exactly how to spread her poison about him. There was a good chance she was now spreading a little poison about Olympia as well. The way Agatha tensed ever so slightly told Olympia that.

  Quickly taking her leave of her hostess, Olympia stepped outside and took a deep breath. London’s air was not sweet but it was far better than what she had been breathing in that little nest of vipers. She had forgotten how vicious the ladies of society could be. Olympia had the sneaking suspicion, however, that she was about to be strongly reminded. Lady Mallam knew she and Brant had arrived in town together. Whether that meant they were allies or not would not be something her ladyship would worry about. All she would want to do is make sure that no one would heed anything anyone might say in defense of her son and, if that meant destroying the reputation of someone connected to Brant through the thinnest of ties, she would do it without hesitation. Lady Mallam obviously held to the tactic of strike first and worry about the need to do so later.