In Bed with a Rogue (20 page)

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Authors: Samantha Grace

BOOK: In Bed with a Rogue
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“I live here,” he said with a raise of his eyebrow. “My name is on the deed, in case you’ve forgotten.”

She stuck out her tongue, then bounded around the table to plop in the chair beside him.

He leaned back as if affronted by her nearness. “There are five other chairs. Must you sit on my lap?”

“I am not on your lap, but you are in my usual spot. Your name isn’t on this chair too, is it?”

Mother clucked her tongue. “Now, children, no quarreling.” A bright smile accompanied her scolding. She moved slowly to the closest chair and lowered into it with a grimace.

“Her rheumatoid is bothering her more in the mornings,” Eve confided in him. “She didn’t want me to tell you so you wouldn’t send for the doctor.”

Mother narrowed her gaze at his sister. “Eve Lorraine Elizabeth Thorne, I told you not to trouble your brother.”

Sebastian turned to the page with Hillary’s apology and slid the newssheet to his sister. “It is not troubling me to know about your ailments. I’ll send for Dr. Campbell this afternoon.”

Mother harrumphed and settled her napkin in her lap. “He will only tell me to take a nip of brandy at bedtime. I don’t need his expertise, thank you.”

“And have you followed his recommendation?” Sebastian asked.

“Ladies do not partake of brandy.”

Eve looked up from the newssheet with a sigh, but he couldn’t tell if it was a happy or sad sigh. “It is really over now, isn’t it?”

“What is over?” Mother asked.

He addressed her question rather than leaving it to Eve to explain and let it slip he’d been involved in a duel, however non-life-threatening it was. “Benjamin Hillary has issued an apology in today’s paper and proclaimed Eve blameless in their broken betrothal.” He held up a staying hand when he saw the panic on his mother’s face. “He didn’t useher name.”

Mother wilted on the seat, her age suddenly showing in the lines of her face.

He patted his sister’s shoulder. “It is over, and I expect you will have a wider selection of gentlemen from which to choose your husband. You could do much better than Sir Jonathan, so there is no need to make a hasty decision.”

“I like Sir Jonathan. He’s interesting.” Eve flipped through the pages until she found the gossip section.

He ruffled her hair. “Well, you may marry whomever you choose.”

“Oh, look!” She sat up straighter. “There is something about the run-in with Lady Lovelace in here. She was abominably rude, but Helena defended you quite well. Then Lady Norwick took up our cause. But Helena was magnificent.” Her gaze darted to him before returning to the column. “You would do well not to cross the lady, Bastian.”

“I haven’t crossed anyone.” He bent over his sister’s shoulder to read the piece again. “Helena was involved?”

His mother cleared her throat, sending him a quelling look across the table.

“Pardon me. Lady Prestwick, I mean.”

Eve paid no attention to their mother’s censorious ear and continued to prattle. “You couldn’t very well expect her to hold her tongue when Lady Lovelace insulted you. The harridan said you were mad, just like Papa.”

Mother gasped at the same time Sebastian winced. He hadn’t wanted either of them to know what others had been saying about him or to remind them of Father’s last years.

Eve blinked her big brown eyes innocently. “Papa was not mad, and neither are you, Bastian. Helena quashed that rumor at once, so you needn’t worry about hearing it again.”

He smiled affectionately at his younger sister. He didn’t believe the rumors would never surface again or that their father had been sane, but he was happy to support her fantasy. “I must thank Lady Prestwick when I see her next.” His heart sped at the reminder he would see her again soon.

Eve tipped her head to the side. “What is that?”

“What is what?”

“That
look
. Your face got all soft and dreamy when you spoke of Helena.”

“It did no such thing.” He scowled and picked up his toast.

“She is correct,” Mother said quietly. “And you did use her Christian name a moment ago. Have you developed an attachment to her?”

He shoveled a bite of eggs into his mouth, followed by a hunk of toast. He refused to be teased this morning. Yes, there was attraction, but an attachment? Hardly.

Maybe he had gone a little soft at the thought of seeing her again, but another place was hard with anticipation. And
that
was lust. He’d experienced it enough times to recognize it for what it was, but it wouldn’t do to argue his position with the females in his family.

But
this
is
different
. Sebastian shook his head slightly, trying to dislodge the annoying thought from his mind. How was his association with Helena different? Because he wondered what churned behind her troubled eyes at times? Because he wanted to hold her and soothe her hurts when she mentioned her husband?

The
bloody
bastard
. Sebastian would like to drive his fist into Prestwick’s fat face, even though he didn’t know what the man had done to Helena, and it was ludicrous to want to fight a dead man.

Fine
. That part was different, but nothing else.

“It’s odd,” Eve said, “but Helena had that same soft look on her face last night when she spoke of you.”

His gaze snapped to his sister’s face to see if she was laughing at him, but she looked pensive, as if trying to puzzle out what she had seen on Helena’s face last night.

It was called sexual contentment, but he didn’t want to discuss such things with his mother or sister.

“I’m sure it was nothing, poppet. Eat your egg before it gets cold.”

“No, it was something. Of that I am sure.” She drummed her fingers against her lip. “I hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but now I am thinking it’s possible she has formed an attachment to you too, Bastian.”

A soft chuckle slipped from his lips followed by a heartier laugh.

Eve drew back with a scowl. “I wasn’t making a jest, and I don’t see what is funny about love.”

Laughter spilled from him again, earning a darker look from his sister. He stifled his humor. “You are right, of course. There is nothing funny about love. Forgive me.”

But Helena? In love with him? That was laughable. Eve knew nothing about the goings-on between men and women, so he could understand how she would get attraction and affection confused. Not wishing to disillusion his sister, he returned to his breakfast. “If you don’t want your egg, I will eat it.” When he reached for her plate, she smacked his hand.

“Your name is not on my plate either.”

Seventeen

Sebastian entered Maggie Montgomery’s fashionable brothel that evening in a less than pleasant mood. His duties at the House of Lords had consumed most of his day and evening, so that he hadn’t had time to call on Helena before setting off on his nightly rounds.

God, he missed the smell of her skin and her taste on his tongue. If she weren’t so skittish about him calling at her town house, he would go there after his search was completed. Perhaps she felt differently about allowing him into her home after their encounter at the theatre, but he would be wise to wait for her invitation. She felt strongly about being in control of such things. Not that he blamed her. She was an independent woman with no need for a man.

He smirked. Or so she thought.

A beast of a man dressed in livery blocked the doorway to Madam Montgomery’s receiving room. “Greetings, Lord Thorne. It is a pleasure to welcome you this evening. This way, if you please.”

“Thank you… Charles, isn’t it?”

“Yes, my lord.”

It had been a lucky guess. As far as Sebastian could tell, every man under Maggie Montgomery’s employ was named Charles. Sebastian followed her man through the large room where two young bucks waited to be entertained. One was red-faced and perched on the edge of a gold brocade chair as if he was waiting to be called before the headmaster to answer for an infraction.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow at him. “Does your nurse know you’ve escaped the nursery?”

His blush deepened and as soon as Sebastian passed he hissed, “This is foolish. I’m leaving.”

Charles held the door open for Sebastian, and he entered a cozy sitting room outfitted with plush crimson fabrics. “Madam will not be pleased you are scaring away her clientele.”

“I will pay her doubly for any lost business I caused.”

“Very good, sir.”

Maggie strove to create an air of sophistication by dressing her men in finery and tutoring them in proper speech, but just as in every brothel, the men were employed to keep order. If a gentleman were to forget his manners, Maggie’s men would give him a refresher lesson in the back alley.

Sebastian had always been a gentleman through and through when he’d visited the brothel in the past, which afforded him special treatment. He would be wise not to jeopardize his position as one of the madam’s favorites. Not that he had been there in years or intended to return after tonight. Brothels were a young man’s playground.

Charles moved to a sideboard and poured two fingers of brandy into a tumbler before carrying it to him. “Is there anything more I may do for you, my lord?”

Sebastian raised his glass to him. “You’ve been a great help already.”

The man hadn’t been gone long before a side door opened and Maggie swept in with four girls trailing in her wake. “Lord Thorne, how lovely to see you again.”

He rose in deference to her and kissed her hand as he would with any lady. Her spicy lavender perfume burned a trail up his nose and he rubbed it absently. She smiled, her face more handsome when she was happy, and motioned him to take a seat.

“Come along, girls.”

The hired girls hustled to do her bidding and lined up in front of him.

“I have selected only the best for you, my lord. You may choose whichever pleases you.”

Sebastian fought to keep a frown from showing on his face. He wouldn’t want Maggie to mistake his displeasure as any of the girls’ fault. “They are all beautiful, madam, but I was hoping for an audience with you.”

Her mouth puckered and her green eyes appeared as dull and hard as malachite. She obviously felt slighted by his request.

Maggie had always been touted as a tasty morsel, and with her flaming tresses and voluptuous figure, she had collected many admirers. But she had given up whoring when she became a madam. It must have been around the time he’d stopped wearing short pants, he imagined.

“I only wish to talk, madam, and I will pay well for your time for I know how valuable it is.”

Her expression didn’t alter. For a moment, he wondered if she intended to call Charles in to teach him a lesson in manners. She snapped her fingers, and the girls scrambled to leave the room, two bumping into each other. Once they had cleared the room, she sat in a chair across from him and folded her arms. “I don’t do dirty talk no more either, Lord Thorne. What is this about?”

Ah, there was the streetwise woman she kept hidden from most.

“I’m looking for a girl.”

She glowered. “I just showed you four. Did you find fault with all of them?”

“I am looking for a
particular
girl. Rumor has it she was traded from a brothel in Whitechapel.”

A tiny tic showed at her eyebrow.

“Her name is Lavinia. Perhaps you’ve heard of her.”

She shook her head.

“Come now, Mags. You are not a good liar. Is she under your employ?”

She hopped from the chair and strode to the sideboard to pour herself a brandy. Her back was rigid. “There are no girls by the name of Lavinia working for me. What do you want with her?”

“What concern is it of yours if you don’t know the girl?”

She turned with the tumbler in her hand. As she sipped the drink, she watched him carefully.

“She is important to someone who is important to me,” he said. “All I need is to know how to reach her. My, uh…friend would like to reconnect with her. They were childhood playmates.”

The hard lines around her mouth eased. “You have a mistress. Now I understand why you’ve been away so long. I suppose they became close friends working together. That happens, but it’s best for your ladybird to say farewell and forget her friend.”

He would let Maggie think he was doing his mistress’s bidding. It seemed easier than explaining about Helena and her connection with one of the madam’s girls, not that he fully understood it himself. “It’s not for you to decide what is best for my friend,” he said.

“Fair enough, but I’m afraid I cannot give you information about Lavinia. I was paid well to keep my mouth shut.”

Once Maggie mentioned money, negotiations were at hand. Sebastian hid his pleasure behind a mask of indifference. “And how much to open your mouth again?”

“I gave my word, Lord Thorne. My word is my bond.” She slanted a smile in his direction. “I did not, however, promise I wouldn’t write down her address in exchange for a hundred pounds.”

“My, that is a well-defined promise you didn’t make.” Sebastian returned her smile. “How fortuitous that I happen to have a hundred pounds I can spare. Shall we complete our business now?”

Her hard eyes bore into him. “We have no business, Lord Thorne. You were not here and never spoke to me. Do we understand each other?”

“Perfectly. Who are you again?”

She rolled her eyes and a reluctant smile spread across her ruby lips. “I hate that I’ve missed having you around, my lord.”

“I hear that often.”

An hour later, Sebastian stood outside a modest town house on the edge of Chelsea, trying to make sense of the darkened windows and silence. He’d been certain the address would lead him to a lively gathering of the demimonde where one engaged in all sorts of debauchery and merrymaking. Instead, he found what appeared to be arespectable household.

Bollocks
. If Maggie had lied, she would have to answer to him, hulking beasts in livery be damned. He returned to his carriage. His footman opened the door for Sebastian to climb inside and awaited instructions. Fleetingly, Sebastian considered stopping at Helena’s on his way home despite his earlier concerns. She would be thrilled to learn he had gotten a lead on Lavinia. She might even be grateful.

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