Listening to McLeish extol his own greatness nearly had Lord Alexander St. John at screaming point, but he fixed an interested look on his face while he let his mind wander to Lady Katharine, his thoughts touching over her like a caress. He wanted to kiss her, to taste her sweetness, to allow his tongue to sweep the inside of her soft mouth while his hands explored her body. Oh, God. He had to pull his thoughts back from the direction they were heading before McLeish noticed that his groin was suddenly hard and hot from just thinking of Katie.
Feigning a large yawn, he apologized to McLeish as he excused himself. ‘I thank you for a delightful evening, Robert, but I find I am extraordinarily tired and if I am to discuss business with you tomorrow in any sort of reasonable fashion, I will retire now to my bed.’
‘Yes, yes, Alexander. I understand perfectly. I will meet you at nine at the warehouse.’
‘Ah, Robert. A little later would be better. I will need to arrange things on board my ship first.’
‘Of course, of course. Whatever suits. Until tomorrow.’ He turned to scream for the Chinese houseman, who Alex could see was already waiting in the shadows. ‘Tong! Show Earl St. John out and bring me another whiskey. Quickly!’
Alex started to correct McLeish about promoting him to Earl while his father still lived, but even another minute spent in the company of this appalling man would be too much.
“Two nights ago,” Lady Rebecca Jamison said, “the woman we engaged at the Women’s Betterment Society to tally the Stock Exchange ledgers — our friend — was murdered. The killer was still inside Peggy’s house when I arrived. Her slayer stopped at the back door and stared directly at me, memorizing my features.”
Her pronouncement was flat-voiced, deadly calm.
“Thankfully, his immediate concern was escaping with our two accounting books. But when the cache identifies me as the woman who saw their lackey’s face, I am certain they will send him to dispose of me as well. They are peers, titled and wealthy, and cannot risk being exposed as members of an illegal group. If we cannot stop these men, brutes who employ cold-blooded assassins to do their dirty work, I will certainly be the next to die.”
The Duke of Sherwyn’s chilled blood turned to ice.
Embracing Scandal (Scandalous Siblings) by Suzi Love. Lady Rebecca Jamison saves her family from financial ruin by investing in railways, but when a greedy syndicate murders her friend, Becca is forced to beg assistance from Cayle St. Martin, the new Duke of Sherwyn. https://books2read.com/suziloveES
Keep Calm and Read my Scandalous Siblings Series Books 1-3. The scientifically gifted Jamison siblings beg assistance from the St. Martin clan to battle a greedy railway investment syndicate. https://books2read.com/suziloveES
Embracing Scandal By Suzi Love Book 1 Scandalous Siblings. Lady Rebecca Jamison saves her family from financial ruin by investing in railways, but when a greedy syndicate murders her friend, Becca is forced to beg assistance from Cayle St. Martin, the new Duke of Sherwyn. https://books2read.com/suziloveES
Scenting Scandal Book 2 Scandalous Siblings Series. Lady Laura Jamison uses her extraordinary olfactory senses to sniff out her perfect match, but after she evades an assassin’s bullets, twice, she is forced to accept the protection of their family friend, and her nemesis, Richard St. Martin, the Earl of Winchester. https://books2read.com/suziloveSS
The Jamisons join the St. Martins at the duke’s country estate but a December snowstorm doubles guest numbers. #Holidays #FamilySaga #HistoricalRomance https://books2read.com/suziloveDS
Belatedly recalling that he was speaking to a British peer, McLeish pulled himself together and shrugged off his outburst. ‘Never mind that sordid story, my lord. How about another shot of my fine whiskey?’
Nearly choking on rising bile, Lord Alexander St. John forced himself to take his leave as politely as he would have from a London drawing room. ‘I thank you, sir, but as I sail on the morning tide so I must bid you farewell.’
He wanted to punch the bastard in his smug face after witnessing the disrespect he’d shown his daughter. He’d heard the stories of the man’s abuse of his daughter and his cruelty when dealing with his plantation laborers. If he’d remained in the same room as that vile man for another minute, he would not have been able to contain his rage. The only thing holding him back was knowing that McLeish’s moods were mercurial. Tonight, he had wanted his daughter to appear enticing but Alex feared the aftermath if he’d shown Lady Katharine any special attention. McLeish would do anything to leave these islands and return to London and becoming part of the St. John family would ensure he would be accepted back into London society, despite the cloud he departed under previously.
Relieved to escape the house without further conflict, he strode down the garden path lit by flares and walked away from the house. Once out of McLeish’s view, he turned into the gardens. When a soundless lips in a gesture of silence and beckoned Alex to follow. Wordlessly, they descended to the small cove where Tong Lee stopped and pointed. Alex could make out a huddled figure on the beach, staring fixedly out to the ocean. Not wanting to scare her, he cleared his throat softly to announce his approach. Nevertheless, she started in fright and fear.
‘It is only I, Alexander. Please do not fear me. I didn’t wish to alarm you, but I needed to be assured of your well-being before I sailed.’
ance”As the Duke of Sherwyn, you’ve entree into the best houses and social events.”
After a scowl towards the ceiling, he muttered, “Thanks to my stepmother, I’m forced into it. But what does my recent social popularity have to do with your current predicament?”
“In daylight, with other ladies, I can stroll about the streets. Visit shops, sometimes slip unnoticed into the twice-weekly stock auctions at the Hall of Commerce in Threadneedle Street. And I’ve already searched the desks of many of the mere misters and lesser peers of the lower orders of the consortium, as their houses aren’t guarded like fortresses.”
“Do you mean to say you entered these men’s homes and rifled their papers?”
“Well yes, but–”
“Are you mad?”
“I risked little, because those sort of houses cannot afford a footman guarding every passageway. Especially not on occasions such as those I attended, where every footman is needed to fetch drinks for belligerent guests. Slipping into those libraries was child’s play.” She sighed. “What I cannot do is visit the homes of the highest ranking peers to scour their correspondence for any that bears the special seal of the consortium. Nor secure enough privacy to copy any incriminating letters I may find. Someone always hovers, and watches, at those type of houses.”
He paced before her like a restless panther, an angry scowl pulling his face taut. His fine looks had always turned heads, but this brooding beast carried a lethal combination of strength and menacing masculinity. She shivered. His newly acquired arrogance of bearing enhanced, rather than detracted from, his magnetism, although this time, she knew to avoid his magnetic pull.
“You intend searching the houses of every peer in the city who is making money from stock shares?”
“No, no, not all of them. We’ve done a lot of research–”
“We?”
“My family have become quite adept at research. We’ve narrowed our search to gentlemen known to invest in railway expansions in a large way. Our final list is of those we consider to be involved in the inner, and most secret, tier of the syndicate. It contains eighteen names, the majority of whom are high-ranking peers.
“Bloody hell, Becca.” He ground the expletive out through clenched teeth. “You’re out of your depth. I’ve been involved in similar commercial groups. They’ll stop at nothing for the sake of money.”
“Nevertheless, we need certain details you may overhear at clubs about certain gentlemen having sudden windfalls. Or things gleaned at certain balls and soirees.
“Unbelievable.” Both hands went up in the air. “That’s certainly as clear as muddy water.”
“Clear or not, I’m asking you to trust me. To help me.”
She held out both hands, palms up, and hoped he wouldn’t notice their tremors. “With your assistance, I can verify more names. Collect proof of each one’s involvement and hand it over to Scotland Yard. Time is of the essence, as we’ve now less than two weeks.”
She watched him absorb, assess, decide. In under a minute, he guided her to his desk and seated her before it.
“Make a start. List the names of every man you suspect to be a member.” He placed writing materials before her. “Then list those you consider inner tier, and include their ranking.”
Richard, Earl of Winchester, groaned. Heaven save him, for lust had addled his wits. Contrarily, if he’d read similar thoughts on the face of any drooling young pup, he’d have leapt across the pews and planted him a facer. Embarrassed himself, and Lady Laura Jamison, with his possessiveness. The gossips would squeal with delight to see him break his own rules and behave like an obsessed suitor.
Far better that onlookers saw the relationship between him and Laura as sparring siblings because, in private, his indifference was becoming harder and harder to maintain. More so, when Laura studied him surreptitiously, or so she thought, and compared him to other men. When she recorded his suitability as her mate as part of her quest to ensure the survival of the human species. Blast the woman and her speculating eyes, because no matter how sexually innocent her assessments of his anatomy might be, his body leapt to readiness faster than any seasoned street walker lifted her skirts.
And damn his randy thoughts for creating so many pictures of them cavorting in his bed. In that arena, if nowhere else, he was certain their passionate natures would prove a perfect match. He clenched his fist at the thought of giving up something else. The intelligent and strong children their couplings would produce. Because if he had Laura’s body under him once, he’d be old and wizened before he tired of her.
The finger prodded her chest again. Gently yet insistently. But his voice softened. “And I, the man, and the duke, choose you. You, Lady Rebecca. Do you think I can’t decide for myself, for my family, for you and me, what’s best?”
“But that’s what I’ve always done. It’s always been up to me to work out the best plan for everyone and then make it happen.” “In the past, that’s what happened.”
“But even now, it’s up to me to keep everyone safe. You said yourself that neither my family, nor the society, could go on without my making these types of decisions. I’m always the one with the clear head. In time, you’ll see that I’m right to walk away from you when this is finished.”
“No, no. This isn’t finished by a long shot, sweetheart. There has to be some consolation in my life for taking on control of Julia and my brothers, for assuming the family titles and topping up our coffers.”
“I know how hard you’re working to succeed. But it’ll never work if you have someone like me in your life.” “I don’t want someone like you, Becca. I want you.” This time his kiss was tinged with desperation. “Answer me one thing.” Her eyes widened. “Do you love me, minx? Do I still hold your heart?”
“Stop! It’s unfair to ask me that. Leave, please, just leave.” Turning away, Becca wished him gone before he glimpsed the fat tears collecting in her eyes. It was crucial that she remain strong. Even if it broke her heart to do so.As he reached the door, Becca heard Cayle mutter, “I will have you, Rebecca Jamison. I will not stop until I find a way.” She didn’t know whether it made her happy, or if it simply terrified her.
Nothing had prepared Lady Katharine Montgomery for the jumble of feelings overwhelming her when Alex worshipped her body, first with words and later with his hands and mouth. For years around this house, she’d been forced to appear dowdy, unintelligent, and totally self-effacing to never anger her father, or draw his wrath. Now, though, every degrading restriction was lifted from her mind, body, and life.
Her father was dead. Yesterday, she’d buried her hatred for the despicable man who’d given her life during the quarter hour it took to stand at his grave and, along with all the other hypocrites present, pretend to mourn as they buried his mortal remains. He’d cheated traders, beaten plantation workers, and horse-whipped her within an inch of her life. She and all the other mourners hoped he’d rot in hell.
Last night, she’d felt free to liberate the passionate nature she’d kept buried for six and twenty years for fear of her father’s explosive wrath. But one night with Lord Alexander St. John had changed everything. One night with a lover who was gentle and caring had her aching for more, more of Alex and more of life with him.
“Be warned, my lord,” the woman said. “I shall return. Tomorrow. Early. Very early. And if you refuse to speak with me, I’ll haunt your house until you are prepared to listen to me.”
Justin Tremayne, Viscount Hawkesbury, felt the air suck out of the room. Movements ceased, breaths held, no one spoke. Every person in the room, including the courtesans, was aware of the reason he’d spent four years debasing himself before the wealthiest members of the ton.
The reason he forced himself to get out of bed each day, to place one foot in front of the other and go through the rituals, the pretense of living a normal life. Why he arranged wild bedroom antics for women and men that he barely knew and certainly didn’t like or respect. His guilt festered like an open wound and the pain never lessened. His obsession was to locate his mother and two sisters, to bring them home, and try to make amends for his absence at the time his deranged father had evicted them.
Unable to reply, he shook his head, robbed of coherent thought, unable to believe her declaration. Unable to convince himself it wasn’t another misery-causing lie. Unable to gather the energy to conclude his night’s business. Nothing mattered above the bait she dangled before his nose, the thing he yearned for more than any other—to bring his family back to him. This tiny despot had forced him into negotiating with her.
“Bart, Thomas. I ask you to leave me to my visitor. Then I’m off to find my bed.”
Disgust suddenly flooded Viscount Hawkesbury’s body and the heart Justin had assumed was frozen in his chest clenched, hard. Despite being forced into unseemly money-making ventures, the three of them had vowed to remain, at heart at least, gentlemen. They all needed to take their places in society, which was why Justin never usually entertained this sort of female at his house. Too many watching neighbors and too many wagging tongues in this respectable neighborhood.
Had he now passed the point of no return? Had the indecent acts he’d committed, all to either survive or earn his some of the ready, tainted his thinking to this extent? It terrified him that his morals were as lost as those idiots who assumed a title and riches gave a man leeway to be rude, arrogant, and even to inflict pain on those they considered inferior. He’d picked out this woman and had intended using her as an example, encouraging her to pass along his message to the long line of societal whores who would continue to plague him. He wanted to stand in the street and scream and yell, “The Virile Viscount is finished!”
Behavior such as his here showed the arrogance he’d always deplored. Rude attacks on a woman were despicable, and it was especially ill-bred of him to tease and taunt what he now suspected was a well-bred lady. But he’d underestimated the woman’s pluck, or perhaps her determination to make herself heard.
“Be warned, my lord, I shall return. Tomorrow. Early. Very early. And if you refuse to speak with me, I’ll haunt your house until you are prepared to listen to me.” Her ferocious expression made him burst out laughing again.
Bart wiggled his eyebrows in a suggestive manner and held out his hand to encourage the woman to take a seat on the thigh of the woman he still held.
“I like her, Justin. Can I have her?”
“Feel free, Bart. If you dare! Though I suspect Thomas is correct. I’ve come to the unwilling, and unfortunate, conclusion that she’s not here to audition for the Harem.”
“Certainly not.” Her tone was icy. “I’m offering you an exchange. Your skill in tutoring my friends in return for information.”
“Regrettably, my services are no longer for hire.”
She inhaled so sharply he swore her ribs vibrated. Then she made her announcement.
“If I leave this room, I’ll take with me what may be your last chance to see your mother. Alive, at any rate.”
