If He's Tempted

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If He's Tempted Page 15

by Hannah Howell


  Enid sighed. “I suppose we will be keeping this one, too. Now, tell us what happened, m’lady?”

  “Did the boys not tell you?”

  “They did but I wish to hear the story from you.”

  Lightly stroking the kitten and pleased when it slowly stopped trembling, Olympia told them what had happened to her. It was difficult to keep the fear at bay when she recalled her feeling of utter helplessness. Someone had attempted to hurt her or even kill her. As she remembered who the men had said was the one they obeyed the orders of, she suspected just who that might be. There was only one person such ruffians would call m’lady and she had to wonder if Brant’s mother had decided she was a risk too big to keep alive.

  “We sent word to Brant,” said Stefan.

  “Oh. I wish you had not. He is meeting with Andras today concerning what needs to be done to get his sister free of that wretched woman.”

  “He needs to know that you have been attacked. We all know who ordered it done, too. David heard them talking about a lady ordering it done. Something needs to be done about that woman.”

  “I know. I am just not sure exactly what can be done just yet.”

  “He is the earl. No matter what the woman has managed to get some fools to grant her, any true court, any true judge, would quickly end her rule in favor of the earl.”

  That was probably true, Olympia thought, but the moment they went to the courts, it would not be able to be done quietly. “It would be such a scandal,” she murmured.

  “Not as great a one if she ended up hanging for your murder.”

  “Ah, true. I best rest a little then, for I suspect he will arrive soon and I shall have to tell my tale all over again.”

  Enid rid the bedchamber of her scowling nephews with an efficiency Olympia could not help but admire. She then forced Olympia to take a drink of a potion that would ease her pain. When she tried to remove the kitten from Olympia’s neck, however, the animal hissed at her, and Olympia waved Enid away.

  “Wretched beast,” Enid muttered but there was no real anger in her voice. “Its legs were not hurt badly though the rope and its struggle left a wee burn. It was not worth your life, however, and that is what you would have lost if those boys had not been following you.”

  “Why were they following me?”

  “Because I told them to. Now, rest.”

  “Such a tyrant,” Olympia managed to say just before Enid’s potion yanked her into sleep.

  Brant looked at the young man seated across the desk from him. Andras Vaughn had the look of many of the men in the Wherlocke-Vaughn clan, that utterly annoying handsomeness with a touch of mystery that drew women to them like a flame drew moths. Andras was slender and tall yet Brant suspected there was a dangerous strength in that graceful body that would surprise many. He also had blue eyes that held a strong hint of green. Brant was tempted to ask the man what his particular gift was for he was certain it was one that suited his choice of profession.

  “All of this information certainly paints a dire picture of Lady Mallam but, if she has gained the power you believe she has, then it will do little more than hurt her reputation somewhat,” Andras said.

  “Only somewhat?”

  “She is one of the reigning ladies of society. Women either fear her or revere her. You, on the other hand, have been marked as that most despicable of creatures—an ungrateful son who has sunk himself in sin thus breaking his poor mother’s heart.”

  The Vaughns obviously had the same tendency toward ill-placed levity that their cousins the Wherlockes did, Brant decided. “What you are saying is that I must catch her with actual blood on her hands.”

  “Perhaps not but all of this, no matter how fascinating, will not be enough. It is weakened by the fact that most of your witnesses are not of the right social class. The only one who is, is young Henry Understone and he is but five years of age. Not a good witness against a woman of your mother’s standing.”

  “And ending my mother’s hold on my sister?”

  “You would have to be a vicar for a few years to gain that because of your reputation. Or, your mother would have to have a quite spectacular fall from grace. I need a creditable witness. Well, perhaps need is not the correct word. It will make it easier to get what you want if we have a more creditable witness.”

  “Not very hopeful.”

  “No, but now that you have begun to gather such information, I may be able to use it to make the ones who gave her custody of your sister begin to change their minds. No matter how your mother has strengthened her place in society, you are still the earl and that will count for something.”

  “It has not managed to open a single door for me yet.”

  Andras opened his mouth to speak but frowned when there was a loud noise and shouting coming from outside the office door. He stood up and moved to open it. The moment he did so young Daniel ran inside and moved to put Brant between him and the harassed clerk who had followed him.

  “That will be all, Carter,” said Andras. “The boy was expected.”

  The moment Andras closed the door, Brant looked at Daniel. “Has something happened?”

  “Lady O got hit in an alley. Me, Abel, and David saved her but she got a few hard hits,” Daniel answered.

  “How badly is she hurt?” Brant began to don his coat and hat.

  “Not too bad, but she will have a lot of bruises and they knocked her about a bit.”

  “Go,” said Andras when Brant looked at him. “I will continue trying to find something we can use against her to break her power.”

  Brant was hurrying out the door with Daniel at his heels a moment later. He knew the boy spoke true when he said Olympia had not been hurt badly but that did little to ease his need to see her as quickly as possible, his need to see for himself that she would be fine. By the time he reached the Warren he had regained most of the calm Daniel’s message had stolen from him. Then he walked into Olympia’s bedchamber and saw her.

  She was asleep and Enid was just changing the cold pack upon Olympia’s face, revealing the deep bruising on the side of her face. Brant stepped closer to the bed to look at her and softly demanded Daniel tell him what had happened. When the boy repeated what one of the men had said, anger quickly became a hot flood in Brant’s veins.

  “I will return shortly,” he said and walked out.

  It was not until he had gotten to the door of the Mallam town house that he was able to grasp even the smallest shred of control over his anger. He pounded on the door and pushed past the butler when the man opened it. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a footman run toward the small blue parlor his mother favored and, shoving the butler aside once again, he strode toward it.

  There were several new and expensive pieces of furniture in the small parlor he noted as he strode in. Sitting on a settee covered in a rich deep blue, his mother looked at him. For one brief moment he glimpsed surprise and then a hint of fear in her expression, but she quickly regained her control.

  “You have been banished from this house,” she said.

  “’Tis my house, Mother. I but allowed you to bar me from it but that is not what I have come here to speak about. I will let my lawyers sort out such matters.”

  “Say what you will and then leave.”

  There was indeed a coldness in her voice, he thought. It went deep into the heart of her, although he had to wonder if she even had a heart. The cold had always been there, he realized. She had given none of her children any affection. Over the years that cold in her had grown worse, burrowed itself deeper into her heart, but it had undoubtedly been with her from the day she was born. Olympia was right. There was something missing in Letitia Mallam.

  “You had Lady Wherlocke attacked today,” he said bluntly and saw only the faintest of reactions to his bold accusation, the merest flicker of an eyelid.

  “You are being quite absurd. Why should I order anything done to that woman?” She glanced at him. “Or is she just another one of you
r many doxies? I suppose she is of a slightly better quality than your usual choices although the Wherlockes are not highly regarded everywhere.”

  “Do not play this game with me, Mother. I begin to think you believe your own lies. I am not some dim-witted drunk you can fool. I may have spent far too much of the last few years steeped in drink but you should remember that I also managed the estate and my investments enough to send you a princely sum every quarter. Heed me now, I have sent away all your spies and retaken my home. Fieldgate, if you do not recall where I live, is no longer your little hunting ground. And, yes, I have also discovered a veritable horde of Father’s bastards.”

  “He had no right to put his by-blows in my house.”

  Her voice was still so cold Brant was surprised he did not see her breath forming in the air. “Neither Fieldgate nor this house is yours and they never have been. It might be best if you try to recall that from time to time. I fear your allowance may be trimmed so that I may sort out all these half-siblings. It is something that is long overdue.” He could see the smallest twitch at the corner of her left eye and knew the mention of his father’s bastards was not a subject she could maintain that icy calm she could wear like armor. Nor was the threat of lessening her income something she would accept lightly.

  “You have no right to do that. It was an agreement made between us and you must honor it. You are, after all, a gentleman born and bred. Perhaps you best read it.”

  “No, I do not have to read it as I helped write it up and read it most carefully. I will see that it is made null and void as quickly as I can. As far as I am concerned the attack upon Lady Wherlocke has ended all agreements between us. You did not hold up your end of the bargain.

  “I was moving slowly to bring you down, but no more. I know what you have been up to, m’lady, and once you did not see it fit for you to obey the contract then neither shall I. I was willing to forget you even exist but you could not be satisfied with staying here, enjoying the place in society you have made for yourself, could you? You had to play your games again. Well, they will fail this time.” He leaned so close to her that he could almost taste the fury he could read in her eyes. “If you ever try to hurt Lady Wherlocke again, I will do far more than warn you off. Do not believe, for one single moment, that the fact that we share blood will make any difference to how hard I will come down on you.”

  Afraid he was about to do something he would forever regret, his hands actually itching with the need to slap her until the icy grip she had on herself shattered, he left. He had warned her. That had to be enough. He could not make himself feel confident of that, however, as he returned to the Warren and Olympia’s bedchamber. His mother was arrogant and she had gotten away with her many crimes for so long it might well prove that only her own death would put an end to it. She probably thought herself too clever to be caught and too arrogantly sure of her own cleverness.

  When he entered Olympia’s bedchamber, he saw that she still slept and moved to pour himself a tankard of the cider she favored and kept in her chambers. He actually wanted a large drink of brandy but he resisted the urge. Instead he sipped at a nicely spiced cider and sat down in a chair close to the side of the bed.

  Olympia’s face was even more brilliantly bruised than when he had left. There was no swelling because of Enid’s swift and judicious use of cold compresses, but he hated to see her this way. She had not deserved this, was only trying to help him. Brant felt the bite of another failure in keeping someone safe.

  And then he saw the kitten. It was watching him, its golden eyes peering out from beneath Olympia’s chin. Thinking it had to be uncomfortable, and probably unhealthy, for Olympia to have the creature so close, he reached out to move it and it hissed at him. Just as he thought to try and grab it by the scruff of the neck fast enough to avoid all those claws and teeth, Olympia opened her eyes and looked at him.

  “They should not have dragged you away from your meeting with Andras,” she said. “Did they tell you what happened?”

  “It was only Daniel and, yes, he told me what happened.” He frowned at the little cat. “Are you certain you should have that little beast so close to your face?”

  “It was terrified. I fear it is why I was caught in that alley. I heard it cry out and, even though I knew it was unwise, I had to go and see if I could help.” She quickly told him all that had happened and was not surprised to see the anger on his face. “I know I made many foolish mistakes.”

  “Aside from going out alone, no. You went to shops very close to here and in the day. It should have been safe or, well, as safe as this city can ever be. Daniel told me that it was a woman who had told the men to hurt you and that it was surely my mother as they kept saying, ‘m’lady’ told them to do it. That she wanted her son to be alone.”

  “Aye, they said that. I am sorry. What I would like to know is how she found out that I cannot ignore an animal in need. Someone has been finding out all they can about me. It appears we are not the only ones doing some spying.”

  “I cannot think how she found out about you at all.”

  “There are always ones watching in the city. It has been clear to us for a while that she is very skilled in gathering information.”

  “I was so angry,” he murmured as he stroked her bruised face lightly, needing to touch her yet worried about adding to the pain she had to feel. “I went to see her. Stormed in and threatened her. Told her she is to leave you alone. Reminded her that she is only allowed to call that house hers on my sufferance, that now that I know about my father’s bastards I will see to their care and that could well mean she gets a smaller allowance from me each quarter. A few other things as well, but that is the gist of it. Not a wise move at all.”

  “Considering all she has done and how she probably knows we are hunting her down, I do not think it such a bad thing,” Olympia said and quickly smothered a yawn. “She was certain to find out about us and maybe even guess at our plans for her sooner or later.”

  “You were right.”

  “Then you must tell me what I was right about before I go to sleep. It should make for a few pleasant dreams. It is not often any man tells a woman she is right.” She grinned when he just grunted.

  “About the coldness in her. Both you and Artemis noticed it. I should have for she had no interest in us, her own children. It runs deep and I believe it has always been there. Not that I try to make apologies for her actions, just that I feel a bit of a fool for never seeing it at all. Simply believed she was not one who cared much for children but had done her duty to our father.” He sat up straight and said firmly, “And now you see why you must never go anywhere alone. Not only has she turned her attention to you but she is more than willing to kill you simply for helping me.”

  “I will be most careful from now on. Did Andras have good news?”

  “Not really but he is eagerly working on it.” He stood up and kissed her on the cheek. “Sleep. You are yawning so fiercely there is a chance you could accidentally swallow your little companion.”

  He was pleased to see her close her eyes. Barely a heartbeat later she was sleeping soundly. Brant felt the sharp stab of guilt. He had failed to keep her safe. Each bruise on her fair skin was a slap in the face, a sharp reminder that he was failing her as he had failed so many others. For a brief while, after they had become lovers, he had thought he might be able to have all he had ever wanted in life, but the attack on Olympia had shown him that he was not a good protector. It was best if he remained alone. When that thought hurt more than he thought it ought to, he hurriedly left the room.

  Chapter 12

  “There is no need to follow me around as if you expect me to swoon at any moment,” Olympia said as she entered the room where breakfast was being served, her nephews close at her heels. “I am fully recovered from my injuries after a full week of being kept captive in my bedchamber.”

  Brant stood up and held a chair out for Olympia, fighting a smile at the way she glared at Art
emis and Stefan. He was surprised she had remained in her bedchamber for as long as she had, but it had been far from some sort of imprisonment. Olympia had used the time needed to recover from the battering she had suffered carefully finding safe places for the last of the children from Dobbin House and gathering every tiny whisper of information that the boys, Brant, and many another collected for her. She had spent more time at her writing desk than in her bed and had enlisted the aid of her vast family in the search for information on his mother.

  “You are still quite colorful,” he murmured as he watched her fill her plate with food, fleetingly touching the fading yellowish bruise on her face.

  “And shall be for a while longer, I suspect, but nothing hurts now,” she replied as she poured herself some tea. “But, I begin to feel uncomfortably caged.”

  “Despite the veritable river of visitors coming to see you?”

  She laughed. “True. There were a lot. Ask a Wherlocke to dig up anyone’s secrets and they gleefully leap at the chance.” Olympia looked at him and added quietly, “It should not be long now.”

  He nodded as he spread some freshly churned butter on a piece of toasted bread. “I should not have gone to confront my mother. I see that more clearly every day. It merely allowed her to begin to cover up her many crimes.”

  “Which is something she cannot do, Brant. There are too many crimes. Too many people she has bribed, blackmailed, or merely tempted into joining her in those crimes. We may have only a few witnesses to point the finger at her as part of such crimes, but the numbers are slowly growing and will continue to grow. Then there are all the ones she uses to gain information. In truth, I think most of those who bow down to her commands are coerced in some way. Dobson said he got very little information from any of the gentry caught at Dobbin House. They will not be of any use to her now, of course. They have all fled the city and gone into hiding.” She scowled at the scone she was about to smother with clotted cream. “I would rather they had all been hanged.”

 

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