If He's Dangerous

by Hannah Howell

  “Thank you, Max.” He grinned at the man. “You have proved to be very skilled at doctoring people.”

  “With so many young boys to watch over, that should come as no great surprise.”

  “Why does the duke take in so many when he already has seventeen of his own?”

  “His Grace cannot abide to see a child in need. Nor can he abide the thought that, for lack of funds, a child of his family might go without a full education. I consider it a good thing for another reason. It ensures that the younger Sunduns and all their young kin are not little more than strangers. They are family.”

  “Yes, that is a good thing. Olympia said that Squire Dunn grew up with His Grace and his boys run free here. Family, not simply relations.”

  Max nodded as he pulled a fine silver watch from his pocket. “I must leave now, for His Grace has a meeting with his steward and I need to make certain he recalls it.”

  As soon as Max left, Argus tried another series of movements just to see at what point his ribs protested what he was doing. There were not many twinges of pain, but he made careful note of each one. He was not sure how long it would take to end the threat Cornick presented, and he had no intention of doing anything that would destroy what healing had occurred. He then finished dressing and went to see where his family had wandered away to.

  He found Olympia sitting in the parlor, sipping tea, and staring out the windows. For just a moment, she looked sad. Argus moved toward her and that look abruptly disappeared as she turned to greet him.

  “So, are you now unwrapped?” she asked.

  “Yes, but Max has warned me that I should be cautious in what I do. I may not have been as damaged as was first thought, but he is right when he says that, once injured, the bones will remain weak for a while.” He sat down beside her and asked, “Are you well? When I first entered you looked very pensive, or sad.”

  “Pensive, of course,” she said so quickly that Argus knew she was lying, but he decided not to press her on the matter. “This is a very troublesome business.”

  “Very. It does not help that we can find no information on Cornick. I have to think that what information I found before was set out for me to find.”

  “It still makes no sense that we can find nothing. The duke appears to have information on everyone.”

  “True. Leopold was fascinated.” He exchanged a quick grin with her. “Where are the others?”

  “They went into the village. They claimed they needed a few things, but I suspect they have gone to listen to the talk in town, gather some gossip, and ask some questions. Before they left, Leo sent word to his people about Wendall, the man who owns the house where you were held prisoner.” She shivered.

  “That is over, Olympia. Firmly in the past,” he said quietly. “I am healed now and Cornick will pay for what he did.”

  She briefly clutched at his hand. “I know. Him and whoever that we is. I pray, for the sake of the youngest members of our family, that Cornick and his ally, or allies, are but a very small group of idiots. And, what happened to you proves just how far they are willing to go to get what they want. That terrifies me.”

  “I, too, hope that we are dealing with a very small, very secretive group. I am also hoping that someone in the government is behind it, for their knowledge of the various gifts within our family is limited to those of us who have worked for them.”

  “Ah, there you are,” said Leopold as he strode into the room, Iago and Bened right behind him.

  Argus watched as the men helped themselves to some wine. “Anything happen in the village?”

  “In other words, did your spying gain you any information?” said Olympia.

  Leopold sprawled in a chair facing Argus and Olympia and grinned at her. “The duke is loved by all, but a few quietly admitted that they speak first to Max if there is a problem they need tended to,” he replied as Iago and Bened sat down. “A few also complained that a certain widow is making a complete fool of herself over the man, for he has had three wives and does not want another. Nor does he need one for he has thirteen sons. There were even a few who thought that, while it was true that he did not need or want a wife, he should perhaps get one anyway for he is only six and forty.”

  Argus choked on his wine and grimaced when Olympia slapped him on the back. “Well, I suppose that could be true for Lorelei told me that the man was married when he was fourteen and a father by fifteen.”

  “Obscene if you ask me,” said Iago. “He was naught but a child himself at the time.”

  “True,” agreed Leopold. “And even, what? Two and thirty years ago having someone so young get married would have been considered unseemly. However, until the current duke, the Sunduns had great difficulty producing sons. There was great rejoicing when a second son was born to the old duke, but the heir died and left behind only two daughters. The duke raised them.”

  “Fascinating,” drawled Olympia, “but just what does all that have to do with our troubles?”

  “It has something to do with us, in a small but important way. Every man, woman, and child on Sundun lands knows they must alert the ducal household to any stranger who is doing more than simply riding through on the way to somewhere else. That there is someone out there whom the duke sees as a threat.”

  “And you believe they will do that?”

  “I do. The duke’s people are loyal to the bone. I found no lies when they spoke of him, not even a hint that someone was merely saying what they thought I wished to hear, all the while quietly seething with anger. The duke settles all problems quickly, keeps his people housed comfortably, fed well, and working so that there is a coin or two for spending. He also tends his lands well and keeps his rents reasonable. And, even better, when he does make an appearance, he speaks to all he meets and knows all their names, their children’s names, and so on.”

  “Astonishing. One has to marvel at his prodigious memory.”

  “Quite. It also seems that he has a lot of men working here who are named Gregor. Seven of them I believe. Their grandfathers settled here about sixty years ago. All Scots. The accents are still very thick.”

  “Stap me, the Sunduns were sheltering Mac-Gregors while they were still a proscribed clan. That could have caused them a great deal of trouble, what with all that Jacobite business.” Argus shook his head. “But no word of any strangers yet.”

  “Nay,” replied Leopold. “And no word from my people yet, either.”

  “These people have covered their trail very well.”

  “It would seem so, but my people are very good.” Leopold sighed. “Unfortunately, good or not, such things take time. The fact that there is a chance someone in the government is behind this means it might take even longer. Caution must be taken so as not to alert the ones behind this. It would help if we could get information on that fool Cornick,” Leopold muttered. “I do not know how you could have found anything about him to prove he was either good or bad. Whatever was shown you is long gone. And, yes, I had my men go through the papers you told me about, but they found nothing. They must have been taken and whoever did so was very good at his job.”

  “This just keeps getting worse,” said Olympia. “All that you are saying points to someone with a very long reach and power. Government.” Leopold nodded and she frowned. “And the part of the government where falsified papers and ones who can steal things from people without even disturbing the dust on the desk are easy to come by, causing no hard questions or raised eyebrows.” She looked at Leopold. “The part of the government all of you work with.”

  “I know. And that is why it will be difficult to quickly get the answers we need, but we will get them. My superior is enraged that there is even the hint of one of his people being behind this. He understands all too well that, if our family is put in danger, especially by his own people, he will rapidly lose the Wherlockes and Vaughns as tools he has found very useful in the past.”

  They talked over what other things they could do to try an
d get Cornick until Argus’s head began to pound from the strength of his frustration. He needed some air, he decided, and left the house, stepping out into the back garden. A stone bench was placed beneath an old tree and he sat down there, resting his head back against the gnarled bark on the thick trunk.

  There had to be something he was missing, something that would help them catch Cornick and whoever was behind his acts. Argus knew Charles had talked a great deal during the violent visits he had paid him, but, unfortunately, the sound of fists pounding on his flesh made most of what the man had said indecipherable and hard to recall. He did not want to think about his time in that cold, damp prison, but it was time to do so. Argus was determined to pull all memories of his captivity out of hiding.

  “Are you certain there is a spirit out here?” asked a sweet, lilting voice that yanked Argus out of his dark thoughts.

  He looked through the dappled shade of the tree he sat under to see Iago, Lorelei, and her little cousin standing near a thick brick wall at the back of the small garden. They all stared at a small doorway set into the wall. All except for Lorelei’s young cousin, who seemed incapable of looking anywhere but at Iago. Argus was not sure how his cousin endured it.

  “Aye,” replied Iago. “I can see her even now, sitting right in front of this wall, facing us.” He pointed to a place a foot or so to the right of the small door.

  “Is she clear to see? Her gown and all? Her face?” asked the young girl, surreptitiously stepping closer to Iago as she stared at the place he had pointed to.

  “She is a bit misty, Miss Lilliane,” Iago replied. “I think she has been here for a very long time.”

  “Why does she not go to heaven?”

  “I have found that a spirit lingers because the person it belonged to felt there was something that needed to be done yet, something that needed to be finished. When that is done, most of them fade away.”

  “I was hoping we might see something, even if it was but a shadow.”

  “I think, Lilliane, I would rather not see too many ghosts,” said Lorelei as she subtly hooked her arm through her cousin’s and pulled the girl close to her, away from Iago. “I also think it is about time for your dancing lesson. You had best get back to the house.”

  For a brief moment the girl hesitated, and Argus almost laughed at the sight of her being torn between two desires. Then she made a hasty curtsy and fled to the house without a backward glance. Argus decided he could stop hiding away now and stood up.

  “I am sorry, m’lord,” she said to Iago. “Lilliane . . .”

  “Is a sweet child experiencing her first love, infatuation, fascination, call it what you will. It will fade.” He grinned at her. “As mine did and the woman, and her husband, were very happy about that.”

  Lorelei laughed and then saw Argus stepping out from the shade of the huge old oak, the one that several of her ancestors had actually fought a battle over to save it from becoming a mast for a ship. The sight of him made her smile even more. That was dangerous, and she knew it, but there was no halting the welcome she knew she gave him in her eyes and her smile. He took her by the arm to lead her back into the house and began to discuss Iago’s ghost.

  “It is sad,” she said as she sat down in the parlor and he served her some wine after Iago politely took his leave. “I think I will try to find out if there are any old tales of some lost or murdered girl in the family histories. I do not like the thought of some poor spirit being stuck here so long, wanting to get something done, but none of us able to see and help her.”

  Argus only briefly wondered where his family had all disappeared to, for no one had mentioned any plans, and then he turned his full attention on Lorelei as he sat down beside her on the plush settee. He was dangerously close to the very woman he should be running away from, but, for the moment, he did not care. After watching her with her young besotted cousin and Iago, seeing how carefully she dealt with the girl and how she showed no doubt that Iago was telling the truth, he needed to be near her.

  He needed her clean scent, her purity and sweetness to wash away the dark memories he had been wallowing in before she and Iago had interrupted. She was his savior, his torment, and his pleasure. She was everything he could ever want, he suddenly thought. She was clever, kind, had the sort of open mind that allowed her to accept his family and its gifts, and she made his blood burn with just a smile. And, she was the daughter of a duke, so he would certainly be marrying up, whispered a cynical voice in his head.

  “You are frowning so fiercely,” she murmured. “Do you think I should just ignore the ghost?”

  “Nay, if you wish to try and discover who the poor woman is, do so. I have always thought it a good thing to bring peace to a restless spirit.” He stroked her hair, a few thick strands having been pulled free of her pinned-up hair by the breeze in the small garden. “You have very beautiful hair,” he whispered, enjoying the thick silk of it beneath his fingers.

  To her dismay, Lorelei felt herself blush. “It is just red.”

  He kissed the hollow at the base of her ear, and she shivered, delighting him. “You do not take compliments well. It is the deep, rich red of an excellent burgundy. Warm, thick, soft as the finest silk.”

  Placing his hands on either side of her face, he slid them up her cheeks until his fingers were buried deeply in her hair. There was a slight flush on her cheeks and her lips were slightly parted as she stared into his eyes. Argus had the fleeting thought that he could look at that face forever and then kissed her.

  For one brief moment, Lorelei considered pushing him away for a change, but then he pulled her close to him as he thrust his tongue into her mouth, and she surrendered. Such fire and need were too tempting to turn away from. Before she lost all ability to think clearly, she told herself that one could not make sweet memories by resisting that temptation. There was a ferocity to Argus’s passion that stirred her blood and she wanted to savor it, wallow in it.

  Argus soon had Lorelei beneath him on the settee. The feel of her there, her soft body embracing his so perfectly, put him into a fever of need. A little voice reminded him that she was a maid, but he shrugged it aside. She shared his passion, of that he had no doubt, and it was that heady sharing that he badly needed right now.

  A faint touch of cool air followed by the heat of Argus’s mouth against her skin was Lorelei’s first warning that he was undressing her. The thought that she ought to protest such a thing since they were in the parlor, in the middle of the day, entered her mind and was swiftly silenced when he kissed her breasts. The way he teased the tips of her breasts with his tongue soon had them hard and aching for more. A soft cry of pleasure escaped her, and she arched up against him, when he gave her more, his mouth closing around the crown of her breast. Each slow draw of his mouth pulled at her desire until her whole body ached with need for him.

  He was tormenting her other breast with his clever, skilled mouth while sliding his hand up beneath her skirts when a sound slashed through the passionate daze Lorelei had fallen into. She clutched at his shoulders and tried to ignore it, but it pressed upon her mind until she began to tense as she listened more closely. When she realized she was hearing the voices of young boys drawing closer to the house, their young laughter coming in through the open window, she nearly cried out in horror. Instead, she pushed at Argus’s shoulders, hard enough to shake him free of passion’s tight grip.

  “My brothers are coming here,” she said, trying to wriggle out from beneath him.

  A heartbeat later he was on his feet, tugging her off the settee, and straightening her disordered clothing with skilled speed. She touched her hair but decided it was no more disordered than it usually was at that time of day. Lorelei resisted the urge to look into the mirror when Argus stepped away from her. She knew she would see kiss-swollen lips and other faint signs of what they had just been doing. She could only hope that her brothers were too young to notice such things.

  In silent accord they sat facing e
ach other on the matching settees, each holding a glass of wine Argus had hastily poured them. She could not help but marvel at how quickly he had banished all sign of their lovemaking. He was so skilled that she had to wonder how he had come to be so, but hastily banished the thought. At least this time she was the one to push him away, she mused as she sipped her wine. She then wished that Argus would kiss her in some place where such interruptions could not occur.

  It also astonished her that they could sit there sipping wine as if the passionate moments they had just shared had never happened. If not for the fading flush on Argus’s cheeks, and the way he had to struggle to even out his breathing, she might think that Argus’s desire was easily doused. Her body still burned with need. It was comforting to think that his did as well.

  The twins, Axel and Wolfgang, strode into the parlor a moment later and Lorelei had to smile. They looked a great deal like her father, even to their untidy clothing. Despite the fact that they were very prone to getting into trouble, they displayed excellent manners as they greeted Sir Argus and gave her the message they had been sent to deliver. Apparently Mr. Pendleton and Miss Baker had had a rousing argument and now Miss Baker was weeping. In her father’s eyes, a weeping woman was a catastrophe of biblical proportions, and Lorelei was not surprised he had immediately sent for her.

  “Ah, well, then, I had best go and see what I can do,” she said as she set her wineglass down and stood up.

  Argus stood up as well and a plainly awed Axel stared up at him. “Damn, he is tall.”

  “Axel, watch your language,” said Lorelei, although she had to agree and idly wondered how it was that their bodies fit so well together.

  “Pardon, sir. Pardon, Lolly. My stars, he is tall!” Axel sounded so much like their Aunt Gretchen, Lorelei had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. She nodded to Argus, who was obviously fighting to hide a grin. “I am certain I will see you again soon, Sir Argus.” She smiled sweetly at him. “Such a shame that this time it is I who must run.”