Chasing Benedict (The Gentleman Courtesans Book 5)

by Victoria Vale

  “I never asked you to do any of it!” Nick roared. He was standing now, hands clenched and trembling at his sides. “I didn’t need you to be my father. I only ever needed you to be my friend.”

  “And as your friend, I cared enough to help you. I tell Aubrey everything because of the five of us, he’s the levelheaded one. He knows how to solve problems, and he can do it without panicking and making matters worse. If I never confided in you, it’s because I didn’t think you could handle it.”

  Nick snorted and shook his head. “Your overinflated opinion of yourself is astounding. You take pride in being the one to sort everyone else’s problems and clean their messes, but you neglect your own! You’ve been falling apart for months, and we can all see it! But do go on about what a scapegrace I am. If that’s what you must do to make yourself feel better, then have at it.”

  Before Benedict could voice the blistering retort lingering on his tongue, Calliope shot to her feet.

  “Stop it, both of you,” she said, a sharp command injected through her words. “Nick, we are a guest in Alex’s home, and you are being unconscionably rude. You haven’t seen him in years, and should take this time to grow reacquainted. Benedict, Nick has been hurt ever since that night at Boodles over the things that were said. However, he ought not have begun this conversation at the table. If the two of you wish to argue or bludgeon one another, I suggest you do so outside and leave Alex and I to our meal!”

  Nick plopped down into his chair like a naughty pupil who’d just had his knuckles rapped with a ruler. His wife glared at him while taking her seat, as if to quell any lingering rebellion. Benedict followed suit, forcing himself to eat though his stomach was now in knots.

  He’d had no idea Nick felt that way. Throughout their long friendship, Benedict had always been the one Nick came to with a problem. Since university, Benedict had deftly maneuvered Nick out of dangerous situations, secure in the knowledge that as long as they were friends, he would be there to continue in that way. Benedict wasn’t privileged to have many friends, and for years, Alex and Nick had been the only ones. If Nick hadn’t wanted his interference, he’d never said so, and he certainly had never acted as if he didn’t.

  The meal went on with the strained silence broken only by casual conversation between Alex and Calliope. Benedict rediscovered his appetite, his stomach begging for sustenance after the long day of training. He gorged himself on lamb and potatoes drenched in a rich sauce, pork pie with a flaky crust, and two slices of pound cake. He guzzled wine to dull the ache in his head, and did his best act as if this were a normal meal shared by friends.

  When it ended, they returned to the salon, where Alex and Calliope fell into talk about fabric and gowns. Nick and Benedict sipped their port and stared at one another with silent animosity. It wasn’t until Calliope approached to tell her husband she was ready to turn in for the night that Nick finally spoke.

  “I won’t apologize for the way I feel,” he said. “But I am sorry if you felt blindsided by what I said. If we aren’t friends anymore, I suppose I would understand.”

  Benedict laughed. “I see no reason to end our friendship over a row. It isn’t as if we’ve never had one before.”

  “True enough.”

  “You are stuck with me, I’m afraid.”

  Nick took his wife’s hand to lead her away. “Sooner or later, I suspect it will be me taking care of you.”

  Once they were alone, Alex came to sit beside him on the love seat. Their sizes pushed them tight against each other, and Alex’s hand fell onto his thigh.

  “I’m sorry,” Benedict mumbled. “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

  “Think nothing of it. Nick has always had a quick temper and never knew how to hold his tongue until the right time. He baited you.”

  Benedict scoffed and laid his head against the back of the sofa and closed his eyes. “He does it like no one else can.”

  “Even me?” Alex teased.

  Benedict opened one eye to peer at Alex. “Even you, though you have certainly given him competition.”

  With a deep sigh, Alex leaned into him, his head falling against Benedict’s shoulder. Benedict laid his hand atop Alex’s and took in the sweet smell of him.

  “You smell like cake,” he said.

  Alex chuckled. “Good enough to eat?”

  “Definitely. Only, I don’t think I possess the energy just now. Besides, I thought you wanted to discuss something with me.”

  “You’ve had a difficult evening. It can wait. Let’s go to bed.”

  Benedict offered no argument, his overeating at dinner having made him drowsy. His body would pay for it in the morning, but just now he didn’t care.

  Once alone in his bedchamber, Alex dismissed both their valets. They helped one another disrobe, hands lingering and caressing in places. Benedict had been aroused all day, rushing through his training so Alex could take him to bed and deliver on this morning’s promise. However, Benedict was drained both physically and emotionally, and would likely fall asleep before Alex could even begin. All he had the strength for was a slow, lingering kiss—one filled with unspoken promises.

  Then, they fell into bed together, Alex curled up against Benedict’s body.

  Chapter 11

  “I’ve said it before, but must reiterate how dreadfully dull London is this time of year. I cannot help but wonder what scandals are occurring within the country estates of the ton’s most outrageous members.”

  -The London Gossip, 14 February 1820

  For the next sennight, Alex watched Ben and Nick interact with one another, curiosity plaguing him. He and Ben hadn’t spoken much of his life during the years they were separated, and Alex was reluctant to ask. Part of him didn’t want to know about the string of men Ben had taken as lovers. Another part of him felt as if he had no right to ask when he hadn’t disclosed the final development that had come of his marriage to Katherine.

  However, there never seemed to be a good time to broach the subject. Ben spent his days training while Alex entertained Nick and Calliope. Alex found his friend’s wife to be lovely, and her presence helped ease much of the tension between Ben and Nick. The two rarely spoke beyond a few pleasantries, and Alex constantly worried that another row would break out between them, leading to things being said that couldn’t be taken back.

  His nights with Ben left no time for talk, as they grew reacquainted in other ways. Ben had changed as a lover, becoming more demanding, more dominating. Alex reveled in it all, finding that his arousal was heightened by this change in Ben’s demeanor. They never revisited the possibility of Alex being the one to make love to Ben. Alex had begun to suspect Ben wouldn’t allow it because he didn’t fully trust him yet. Alex knew what he needed to do to gain that trust, and the longer he waited, the more impatient he was to have done with it. Not just so that Ben would allow him the one intimacy he’d been denied during their arrangement, but because once Ben trusted him again, there was room for more. Alex had faith in the love of their past, knowing it could be rekindled and strengthened. His aim had always been to convince Ben to stay with him and ever leave. Seeing him walk the corridors of Vautrey Park, run the paths during his training, and sleep in Alex’s bed had only increased that desire until it became all he could think about.

  Aside from his own secret, Alex began to suspect he knew what Ben was keeping from both him and Nick. Now that Alex knew that the London Gossip was Cynthia Milbank, he couldn’t stop thinking of that night at the duke’s ball. Even from a distance, their conversation had seemed heated and volatile. Surely what Alex witnessed had been a negotiation. But what had been the terms? Why was this woman so dead set on ruining Ben and the other courtesans?

  He had mentioned Cynthia to Ben only once since that disastrous dinner, only to be put off. Ben seemed as reluctant to speak of it as Nick had been. After days of wondering and being frustrated, Alex decided it couldn’t hurt to do a little digging. One morning, he invited Nick to join him f
or his daily ride. They took a long, scenic route, alternating between bracing runs and loping trots. When they came upon a shallow creek, they dismounted to allow the horses to drink.

  Doffing his hat, Alex paced toward a nearby tree and leaned back against it. “Calliope is lovely. I can tell she’s been good for you.”

  Nick smiled, a dreamy look softening his face. “She has been. I’d never thought I would marry, you know. But my Anni … she was simply too perfect to resist.”

  “Anni?” Alex prodded.

  “It’s her Bengali name. Her father changed it to Calliope when he brought her here from India. The only people who use that name are myself, her father, and her lady’s maid.”

  “It’s beautiful,” Alex replied. “I’m glad for you.”

  Nick’s expression grew serious. “And I am sorry for your loss. I didn’t know the countess well, but she was known to be a wonderful lady.”

  “She was,” Alex said, choking back the grief tearing through him. “I … miss her sorely.”

  Nick seemed on the verge of saying something else, but Alex felt the inevitable question. He couldn’t allow Nick to ask how Katherine had died; not yet.

  “What happened between Ben and Cynthia Milbank?” he blurted

  Nick blinked. “I … what?”

  “We know now that she’s the London Gossip. Obviously, she revels in exposing people’s secrets, but I read the things she wrote about Ben. They were particularly mean … personal. Why is that?”

  Nick turned away and swore under his breath. Swiping a hand over his mouth, he sighed. “I can’t say.”

  “You can’t say?” Alex exclaimed. “None of this will go away with you and Ben keeping secrets for everyone. Aubrey knows something too, I could tell when I saw him in London. This woman has been able to take you unawares at every turn because the three of you don’t talk to one another. I suspect these other friends—Hugh and David—are just as much in the dark as you are, if not more so.”

  “Why do you care so much?” Nick fired back. “Ben was jealous of you and Katherine. He threw away your friendship for the sake of his own pride. You seem to have let him back into your life fairly easily, and now you’re concerning yourself with matters that have nothing to do with you.”

  Alex was shocked by Nick’s claim concerning Katherine. It made no sense. “Did Ben tell you he wanted Katherine?”

  “No, but it was obvious enough. He attended your wedding and then refused to attend another until those closest to him began marrying. He grew irate when anyone spoke your name, and became a right ass when anyone asked him how he’d come to hate you.”

  Alex slumped against the tree, suddenly weary. “You cannot blame him for our falling out. I wounded him, grievously, but I cannot tell you how. It isn’t my place to say.”

  “And it isn’t my place to tell you why Cynthia is out to get him.”

  “Isn’t it?” Alex challenged. “You said it yourself—sooner or later the time will come for you to be the friend who steps in to do something. This Gossip woman knows you all are the Gentleman Courtesans, and I assume she has proof. If we don’t help him, he’ll be ruined, and the rest of you along with him. Think of your wife, Nick. Think of how the scandal will affect her.”

  “Goddamn it,” Nick muttered. “I’d forgotten that you’re almost always right. I also forgot how much I hate you for it.”

  Alex chuckled. “You don’t hate me.”

  “No, I don’t. He’s going to know I’m the one who told you.”

  “And he’ll bluster and roar like he always does, but in the end, he’ll thank you.”

  Nick looked uncertain, but gave in. “You know that Mr. Milbank and Viscount Sterling were friends.”

  “Of course. I always suspected they were trying to align their families with a marriage between Cynthia and Ben.”

  Nick raised an eyebrow. “Well … they succeeded. Sort of.”

  “They were engaged?”

  “Few people knew, and Ben refused to go through with the marriage. He tossed her over before it could be formally announced.”

  Alex pushed away from the tree and began to pace. This was all news to him, but it made perfect sense. If the viscount had tried to force Ben into a betrothal, then it stood to reason it had happened after Alex had married Katherine. Had Sterling tried to punish him for running away with Alex or refusing to marry Cynthia? Alex wouldn’t be surprised if it were both.

  “I would imagine Cynthia was incensed to have been rejected that way,” Alex mused aloud. “But no one knew. Why not seek another husband instead of becoming a spinster and wreaking havoc on Ben and the rest of the ton?”

  “The Milbanks have been trying to claw their way into high society for years, and marriage to a future viscount might have been their best chance at cementing their place. If there is anything other than that, you’ll have to ask Ben. I know nothing else.”

  “You’ve been very helpful. I think I might know of a way to end this for good, but I will need your help. Ben can’t know. He’ll only try to take matters into his own hands, when what he needs is help. He can’t do it alone.”

  Nick looked at Alex as if he’d lost his mind. “This woman is dangerous, Alex. If we fail, not only will Ben kill us both, but everyone we care about will be ruined. You don’t know Hugh and David yet, but they’re good men. Both have wives who are expecting children—one this spring, and the other in the summer.”

  “I understand. The plan isn’t foolproof, but it’s sound.”

  “Are you going to treat me like Ben does and keep the details to yourself?”

  With a grin, Alex placed a hand on Nick’s shoulder. “Not a chance. Here’s what we’re going to do …”

  Alex returned to the house after finalizing his plans with Nick in high spirits. If he could pull his scheme off successfully, Ben would be free of Cynthia. Their lives could finally settle into some kind of normality with nothing else standing in their way. Tonight, he was resolved to tell Ben about Ella, leaving no further secrets between them.

  Nick had gone off in search of his wife, so Alex took the steps two at a time. He would change out of his riding clothes before going to his study. He had letters to compose and invitations to send out. On the way to his bedroom, Alex drew up short before an open doorway. The small drawing room connected to his suite was occupied.

  Ben lay on the ground, surrounded by small parcels. Fisher stood over him, while two footmen continued packing the bundles around Ben.

  “What on Earth is going on here?” he asked.

  All eyes fell to him, but Alex was watching Ben, who lay shivering beneath what he now realized was a mountain of ice.

  “Rehabilitation for sore muscles,” Fisher replied. “First ice, then heat.”

  “Hopefully, I won’t freeze to death before we get to the heat,” Ben remarked, voice quavering.

  “If you can take a pounding in the ring, you can withstand a little ice,” Fisher fired back.

  “No one has ever pounded me in the ring. I do the pounding.”

  “Quiet!” Fisher admonished. “Save your energy for tomorrow’s training. I know you’ve been eating unapproved foods. I can see it all over you. Did you think me daft?”

  Ben groaned. “This would be so much easier if you were.”

  Muffling laughter, Alex backed out of the room. “I’ll leave you to it.”

  “Traitor!” Ben called after him.

  Alex made for his room, still chuckling as he rang for Simmons. They made quick work of his toilette, then Alex made his way to his study. After giving his steward orders regarding the invitations and who to send them to, Alex penned a letter to Aubrey and Millicent Dane. He hadn’t visited Millicent while in London, but they had written to each other frequently over the years. She was one of the few people who knew the truth about him and Ben, and he had taken comfort in her letters.

  Once finished, Alex left his desk, stretching his stiff neck and cracking his knuckles. Returning upstairs, he f
ound the door to his drawing room closed, though he could still hear Ben’s and Fisher’s voices. Cracking the door, he flinched as a wave of unrelenting heat slapped him in the face. Ben lay under a huge pile of thick woolen blankets, while two footmen fed a roaring fire. Alex noted the sweat glistening on Ben’s brow, his face flushed scarlet.

  Stepping into the room he met Fisher’s gaze. “Might I have a moment alone with Ben? I’ll feed the fire and follow any other instructions you might have.”

  Fisher glared at him with clear suspicion. “Keep the fire high and hot. He’s not to be let up for another half hour.”

  “Understood,” Alex replied as Ben muttered curses under his breath.

  A fireplace poker was placed in his hands, and the footmen followed Fisher from the room, closing the door behind them. Alex pulled at his cravat, the prickling heat of the room making his clothes feel too stifling.

  Pulling up a chair, he sat near Ben. “Why do you allow him to put you through this?”

  “Fisher’s the best boxing master in England,” Ben replied, his words coming out on rushed, stifled breaths. “I moan and complain, but the treatments work and his training put me in the best shape of my life.”

  “Fighting shape,” Alex murmured.

  “Of course. What else?”

  Alex ran a hand over his damp brow. “Ben—”

  “Don’t ask me how much longer I plan to do this,” Ben interjected. “I don’t know, and I can’t think of it now. I just … I need to fight. Do you understand?”

  “No,” Alex admitted. “I don’t. You walk about with bruises and a split lip. If your face isn’t destroyed first, your body will succumb to the abuse. Doesn’t it hurt? Don’t you want some relief from the pain?”

  “Pain is all I know,” Ben snapped, avoiding Alex’s gaze. “It makes me feel alive. It’s either pain, or returning to a state of numbness, and that numbness is what drove me to try to blow my own brains out. I need something, Alex, and you may not understand it, but it’s all I have.”