If He's Tempted

by Hannah Howell

  Watching the overweight man struggle out of his carriage, Olympia had to slap a hand over her mouth to stop herself from gasping aloud. “That is . . .”

  “It is. I always knew he was a bastard but I had never thought he was a pervert as well.”

  “Perhaps he is here for the women.”

  “Girls, not women. If he is here when we bring Dobson around then that swift rise in politics he has been enjoying will meet a swift death. I wonder if this is how Mother got so much power.”

  “She knows who comes here. She knows and she uses it to get what she wants.”

  “That should help me and Andras get her claws out of my sister. This is not, unfortunately, the proof needed to bring her down. She has made her place in the very highest echelons of society and just because she knows a man who goes to a place like this is not enough to destroy her. In truth, she will probably use it to an advantage, claiming ignorance of his evil behavior, all the while delicately dabbing at the corners of her very dry eyes with a delicate scrap of lace.”

  “Aye, the poor-foolish-woman-that-I-am-look-who-I-trusted-and-who-abused-that-trust performance, most often done before the largest crowd of gossips ever assembled.” Olympia smiled when she felt his soft laughter against the back of her neck. “And look there, it is Minden.”

  “Yes, the swine. And the man who entered before him would be one of the ones who now slams the door in Minden’s face.”

  “With a grand show of self-righteous outrage, I suspect.”

  “Of the loudest kind.”

  “Do you believe we have seen enough now?”

  “We have. Let us go and talk to Dobson.”

  “You are looking most fine, m’lady,” said Dobson and grinned at Brant’s scowl. “What brings you two to my office at this time of night?” He waved his two guests toward the chairs facing his desk.

  “I did not know you worked the night through, Dobson,” said Olympia as she sat down, crossing her legs and ignoring the fierce look Brant gave her as well as the sly laughter she could see in Dobson’s eyes.

  “Night is when most of the bad things happen, m’lady. I will admit, however, that I am not often here at this time of night. Just had a fair piece of work to do.”

  “We have just come from Dobbin House and believe the owners there have my half-siblings inside,” said Brant, pleased to see all the teasing light abruptly fade from Dobson’s eyes.

  “Tell me you did not go inside that place, m’lady, or touch anything,” said Dobson.

  “Had to promise the earl the same thing and I kept my promise. All I touched was the hand of a small, desperate boy. I did not like having to leave him there.”

  “If you are sure that the house holds your three half-siblings, m’lord, then we can soothe m’lady’s distress about having to leave a wee lad in that hellhole.”

  “The boy she spoke to,” Brant said, “recognized my brothers when I described them. He actually saw them arrive. The boy is also no street urchin, but his mother sold him into the life. So with the reward I have posted and the one the boy might bring, it could be a profitable job for you and your men.”

  “Which will suit them well. Me? I would knock that place into a pit and bury it without asking a ha’penny. Just do not have me going in there based on a guess or a lie. I could catch a few very important people bare-arsed in there and I like my work.”

  “We are certain,” Olympia assured him. “You would be as well if you could have spoken to young Henry.”

  “Then I must ask what you mean to do about your mother this time, m’lord?” Dobson crossed his arms on top of his desk and leaned toward Brant. “You now have a lad who could point a finger at her and might soon have a few men who could do so as well.”

  “I mean to make her pay for her crimes, Dobson. It will not be easy but I will see it done. The boy is but a piece of it. Alone, his word against hers will carry no weight at all, nor will the testimony of any of the other boys or the ones running that place. As for the ones of better blood that may be caught out tonight, they will be very busy trying to save themselves and I do not believe the fact that my mother may have blackmailed them into getting her something she wanted is anything that will help them. I cherish a hope or two that someone will be willing to drag her down with them, but my mother is cunning and I suspect she has covered her tracks or protected her back very well.”

  “Even the cunning ones trip over their own feet now and then.”

  “As I hope she will. Howbeit, I believe my part in all of this must be kept very quiet.” He explained about Agatha. “I have to make certain that does not happen. I need to retrieve the power she has stolen from me before I strip all of hers away. I can do the latter much easier if she remains ignorant concerning how much I am doing and how much I know.”

  “Not sure that is going to work for you for very long.”

  Brant shrugged. “I will take what time I can gain. If I must, I will storm the town house and take my sister out of there. That will then put my mother in the position of being on the defensive.”

  Dobson got up and reached for his coat. After shrugging it on, he walked to the door and bellowed for someone named Jack. He told the tall, handsome young man who came running to get together ten of their men and a carriage or two for prisoners before shutting the door and returning his attention to Brant and Olympia.

  “One thing you have not mentioned is what you plan to do with the children that will be taken out of there tonight,” said Dobson, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

  “I will take them with me to start with,” said Olympia.

  “Could be a fair number of them.”

  “I have a big house and I doubt most of them will remain for long. Three have homes to go to although I believe young Noah should not return to the family townhome,” she added, glancing at Brant.

  “No. He will stay with me and Thomas as will Ned and Peter,” said Brant.

  “There are orphanages, workhouses and the like for the children,” began Dobson, his distaste for such places clear to hear in his voice.

  “And we both know what they are like most of the time,” said Olympia. “No, I will deal with the children.”

  Dobson shrugged. “I suspect many of them will just run off once we arrive.”

  “Oh, no, I do not believe so. You see, they are chained to the beds.”

  Still reeling a little from how quickly Dobson had gotten his men ready and headed to Dobbin House, Olympia stood beside Pawl as she watched the man lead his men into the place. Dobson, with his talk of orphanages, workhouses and the like, had seemed unconcerned about what happened to the children after he got them out of Dobbin House but Olympia had known the pose was a lie. Dobson probably cared too much having suffered in a few of those places as a child.

  The smashing of the door was sweet music to her ears. After what she and Brant had told Dobson, he had placed his men in strategic spots all around the house and they were soon catching the escaping patrons. Outraged cries from some of the ones who thought themselves far too important to suffer this sort of treatment soon filled the air. She cared about none of it, her gaze fixed upon the door where the children would soon come out.

  “’Tis rather demeaning to be hiding in the carriage this way,” said Brant, his words a little muffled by the curtains pulled shut to hide him.

  “You are too well known, m’lord,” said Olympia.

  “Someone might recognize you.”

  “I truly doubt that as I go about very little in the city, attend few societal events, and am dressed like a man. Ah, here come the children.”

  And it broke her heart to see them. Most of the ones being led out clutched tightly to their blankets, looking dazed and fearful. Most of them were also very young, the boys far outnumbering the girls. A few of the girls looked as if they were past puberty but Olympia doubted it was by much.

  She stood up a little straighter when Dobson led four boys over to her. It was not hard to recognize
little Henry because he stared at her with wide eyes filled with shock and hope and when she held her hand out, he rushed to her side and grabbed hold of it. The three other boys watched her warily after Dobson left them with her.

  “The earl waits for you in the carriage,” she said and the recognition in the eyes of all three boys told her they had found the right ones. “Thomas is waiting at my home.”

  While the other boys attempted to slip into the carriage without exposing Brant to any prying eyes, she reached down and lifted Henry up into her arms. When the boy wrapped his arms around her neck and tucked his face up against her throat she had to swallow hard several times to keep from crying. She would give him awhile to recover before pressing him for more information about his parents.

  “Carriages are loaded up with the children,” said Dobson, who had willingly lent his men to drive the extra carriages that would be needed. “Near thirty of them although the older lasses are already speaking of going home. Are you certain you want them all at your home?”

  “They need a place to sleep for at least tonight, but perhaps more. They need clothing, food, and so forth. It will be fine, Master Dobson. One thing the Warren is accustomed to is being packed full of children. We can sort out who they are and if they have somewhere else to go later.” She nodded toward the wagons filled with the men and women from inside Dobbin House. “What happens to them?”

  “Aside from filling the pockets of me and my men, I see a few transportations, one or two hangings, and a lot of new residents of Newgate who will get a fine, warm welcome from the inmates once it is known what they did for a living.”

  “Other criminals will find what these men did wrong?”

  “Not all, but enough to make life miserable. A lot of the criminals sitting in Newgate were once poor wee lads who could be bought and sold for a pittance at any time and they all loathe the men who deal in it. Be sure to let me know if the children tell you anything of importance. I will be certain to let you know if we have anyone looking for any children. You take care, m’lady.”

  “Are you ready to come to my home, Henry?” she asked the boy still clinging to her.

  “Yes, m’lady. I would like that.”

  With Pawl’s help, Olympia got into the crowded carriage and settled Henry on her lap. She studied the three boys who were Brant’s half brothers and almost smiled. It was as if she was looking at Brant at various stages of his life. Ned actually had gray eyes and she had to think they had come from his mother for Brant’s father had had blue eyes, which Peter had. Ned and Peter looked bruised and she suspected they had never ceased to fight. Poor Noah looked absolutely terrified and sat as close to Brant as he could.

  “I need to ask this,” Brant said, his reluctance clear to hear in his voice. “Who took you there?”

  “That bastard Wilkins took us,” said Ned and then blushed and looked at Olympia. “Pardon, m’lady.”

  “Quite all right,” she murmured as she stroked Henry’s back.

  Ned looked back at Brant. “Wilkins found us in the village and he had brought along those two brutes from London. There was not much of a fight, sad to say, and next me and Peter knew we was tossed into that evil place.”

  Peter was barely at the age of puberty, Olympia guessed, and he was, in a word, very pretty with his soft blond hair an unruly whirl of waves and curls and his big blue eyes. Ned had more of a rough edge and his black hair was straight and a bit too long, but he, too, was not yet of an age to be considered even close to being a man. Little Noah had soft, green eyes and the same color hair as Brant. An angelic-looking little boy, she hoped he had not been at Dobbin House long enough to suffer much.

  “Noah?” Brant prodded. “You have not told us how you got there.”

  “Her ladyship came to me whilst I was pulling weeds in the garden. She had Holt the footman with her and he just reached out and grabbed me, slapping a hand over my mouth so I could not call for help. They brought me to that place and got a lot of money for me. She told me she was cleaning house and I did not understand. I do not go into the main house at all so how could I make it dirty? When I asked she just laughed at me and said I was born dirty and I would die dirty but at least she would not have to feed me anymore.”

  “You will stay with me and never have to see her again.”

  “Good but I would like to see my sister.”

  “I will see what I can do about that.”

  “Will you be sending us back to Fieldgate, m’lord?” asked Peter.

  “I can if that is where you wish to go. Get some rest tonight, soothe Thomas’s concerns, and we can talk about it in the morning.”

  Brant looked at her and there was such fury in his eyes she had to fight down an instinctive flash of fear. He had spoken so calmly to the boys, had stayed calmly within the carriage, that she had not really understood how much this was angering him. Beneath that anger was pain, however. A lot of pain and, she feared, a lot of guilt.

  She looked down at Henry, who was watching Brant with wary eyes. “Henry, can you tell us how you got to that place?”

  “I told you my mother took me and they gave her some money,” Henry said.

  “I know. I was just making certain that I had heard exactly what you had said. What is your mother’s name?”

  “Polly. That is what Papa called her. His Sweet Polly, he always said.”

  “Do you know what your father’s name is?”

  “Gerald.”

  “I need a little more than that, my darling boy.” She brushed the curls back from his face. “Gerald what? Gerald the Baker? Gerald the Butcher?” She was delighted when he grinned and hoped it meant he had not suffered too badly while trapped in Dobbin House.

  “Gerald the Marquis.” He nodded. “Gerald Humphrey Thomas William Understone the fifth Marquis of Understone Hill.” He smiled after the careful recitation of his father’s name. “He made me remember that and said he would teach me all his titles when I turned six.”

  “Your father is the Marquis of Understone Hill?” asked Brant, shock making his voice somewhat hoarse.

  “But I call him Papa,” said Henry.

  “But your mother sold you to Dobbin House?”

  “She said she did not like me anymore and that she was mad at Papa. Said this would make him love her again instead of giving me all his love.” His bottom lip trembled. “I did not take it all. Just a little.”

  Olympia held the child close and stroked his hair. “Of course you did not take it all. Papas are supposed to love their little boys. You did no wrong.”

  “But he did not come to find me.”

  “That does not mean he is not looking for you. We just found you first.” Olympia prayed she was right about that. “Now, one last question. The lady with the eyes like his lordship’s? Did she see you?”

  “She was my company and why I had to take a bath. It was cold, too. She would pet me and tell me that she had great plans for me and that I was going to make her a very rich woman. She said Searle was a fool and let her buy me from him for pennies when I was worth thousands. I did not understand what she meant. I just wanted Papa to come and find me.”

  “We will see to that for you, lad.”

  Olympia looked at Brant and inwardly sighed. He looked ill. It made her want to go and beat Lady Mallam until she lost the last of her cold beauty and then chain her to a bed as she had left this child to be chained. Such thoughts were useless, however. Nor did she have the time to indulge that dream. She had several carriage loads of children who needed to be cared for and a man who needed to be made to see that he was not at fault for the evil his mother did. Olympia had the feeling the former was going to be far easier to accomplish than the latter.

  Chapter 9

  Olympia was exhausted by the time all the children had been settled down for the night. She could only hope none of them tried to slip away, that she had gained enough trust from them that they would stay long enough for her to help them. Smoothing down the s
kirts of the gown she had changed into, she made her way to the library to sit quietly for a while and sip some wine before she sought out her own bed.

  The first thing she saw when she entered the room was Brant. He sat in a chair facing the low-burning fireplace, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, and staring intently into a half-filled glass of brandy. Olympia quietly shut the door behind her, got the glass of wine she was thirsting for, and sat down in a chair facing Brant. He still looked pale but no longer as if he was about to empty his belly.

  “My mother is truly evil,” Brant said quietly, never taking his gaze from the glass of brandy.

  “What she does is evil, but I believe she is ill or deranged in some way,” said Olympia. “Perhaps she was even born with something missing. There is a cold emptiness in her eyes that I found quite difficult to look at.”

  “Henry said I have her eyes.” Brant finally looked at Olympia and found none of the disgust or fear in her eyes that he had worried about. “You changed your clothes,” he murmured, realizing he had enjoyed seeing her dressed as a man a bit too much.

  “The men’s clothes smelled of the city and I wished to be fresh, to try to remove the stench of that horrible place. Now, about your eyes.” She narrowed her eyes at him when he smiled faintly at her abrupt change of subject. “You have the same color of eyes as your mother, which is hardly a surprise, but yours are nothing like hers. When I looked into her eyes I saw no emotion, no depth, just the cold, hard determination to make me believe the lies she was telling about you. There is even a coldness in her voice no matter how hard she tries to behave in a correct, sociable way.” Olympia looked straight into his eyes. “You do not have that coldness inside of you.”

  “How can you be so certain of that?”

  “I would know. I may not have the sensitivity of some of my family, like Artemis, as that is not my gift, but I would know something like that. Artemis would most certainly know and he has not seen it in you. He had a small confrontation with your mother about a year ago, in the park where he had taken the children to play. She did not appreciate the presence of so many boisterous children as she was taking her afternoon stroll, with that rather large footman of hers. Artemis said that standing next to her felt much akin to hurling oneself into an icy pond.”