Chasing Benedict (The Gentleman Courtesans Book 5)

by Victoria Vale

  Benedict’s father blanched, a vein in his temple pulsing. “You wouldn’t.”

  “I just exposed a gossip peddler in my own dining room. I wouldn’t suggest testing me.”

  Benedict thoroughly enjoyed his father’s defeat, as the man was left with no choice but to obey. He shouldered his way through the other guests, blowing through the door without a look back.

  Benedict took Alex’s arm before he could follow, feeling as if he might burst. “I could kiss you right now.”

  Alex smiled. “You could, but I wouldn’t recommend it. Save it for later. We aren’t done yet.”

  Chapter 13

  Alex stood back as Ben and his father entered the antechamber and noticed the final person he had invited to join them. He wouldn’t let himself feel relief until this final piece had fallen into place. Without it, Ben would never be free to move on with his life.

  “Dr. Pruett,” Ben choked out, taking a step away from the wizened man rising from an armchair in the corner. He was frail, stooped and gray-haired with cloudy eyes. From what Alex had gathered, the man relied on burly footmen to restrain his patients so he could administer his barbaric treatments.

  Alex had found that the mad doctor wasn’t purposely malicious, but simply a man whose methods were fading out of practice. He was a relic of a dying generation of doctors, his brutal methods the only thing he knew.

  “Pruett!” Viscount Sterling exploded. “What the devil are you doing here? You have been handsomely compensated to adhere to my commands, and I gave you strict instructions to stand by in London and wait for me to send word!”

  Clapping the viscount on the shoulder, Alex shoved him down into the nearest chair. “That was true until a few days ago when Dr. Pruett’s response to my letter arrived in the post. You see, the good doctor here wishes to retire, but finds that torturing people at the behest of their family members too lucrative to quit. His livelihood depends on it.”

  Dr. Pruett raised a bony finger. “See here, my lord … as I have explained, my methods are scientific in nature and not meant to harm the body but to purge it—”

  “Yes, yes, and I’m the bloody queen of England,” Alex groused. “Do let me finish.”

  “Of course, my lord. My apologies, my lord.”

  “As I was saying,” Alex said, turning back to the viscount. “I have offered to grant Dr. Pruett his wish, purchasing a cottage in the county where his daughter and grandchildren live, and paying a generous settlement for enjoying his twilight years. However, my generosity has a condition, one that the doctor is willing to fulfill. This agreement is only binding if Miss Milbank can be convinced to do her part.”

  Ben had drawn closer, his initial shock at seeing the mad-doctor abated. He looked as if he were taking in a riveting play at the theater.

  Cynthia stood with her arms crossed defensively over her chest. “What more do you want from me? You’ve taken everything else.”

  “Just this final thing.” He gestured toward the final remaining chair, upon which sat a writing box and a fresh sheet of paper. “You will sit here, with the four of us as your witnesses, and offer written testimony of the events that led to you sneaking into Ben’s bed while he was drugged and using him without his consent.”

  Ben flinched at his side, but Alex stayed him with a steady hand. Cynthia looked to the viscount, who appeared to be on the verge of spontaneous combustion.

  “You said he wouldn’t remember!” Cynthia accused. “The opium was supposed to make him forget.”

  “I could never forget that I wouldn’t willingly touch you if my life depended on it,” Ben snapped. “The rest came back to me eventually.”

  “It was for your own good,” the viscount growled. “Marriage could have changed you, stoked your natural urges. But you were too content to wallow in vice and sin. Too busy chasing this one’s arse cheeks all over London instead of shaping yourself into the son I deserved!”

  “You deserved nothing!” Ben roared, lunging at his father until they stood almost nose-to-nose. “You had everything a man could want—the perfect wife, three healthy sons, more money than you could possibly spend in your lifetime. And still, it wasn’t enough! Mother wasn’t good enough, so you broke her spirit. I wasn’t good enough, so you beat me, berated me, and treated me like a dog! Yet you wonder why I hate you so much it has become like poison in my veins … but no more. I was done wanting you to love me and accept me years ago, but now, I’ve decided I’m done allowing you to occupy space inside my mind, to haunt me from a distance, and force me to live in fear. As of this moment, you are dead to me.”

  As if to drive the point home, Ben went to the other end of the room and turned his back.

  The viscount tried to follow, but Alex impeded him, pushing a firm hand against his chest.

  “You are as much a fool as I always thought if you ever believed I could love a worthless, twisted creature like you,” the viscount spat. “What a sight the pair of you make—a deranged sodomite and his foppish mollycot.”

  Alex reacted before he could think, sending his fist flying at Sterling’s jaw. The man staggered against the wall, then slid to the floor, dazed and bleeding from the corner of his lip. Alex felt the eyes of the others on him, but spared them no mind as he loomed over the person who had tried to destroy the man he loved.

  “You don’t have to love him, because I do,” he said, shaking his aching left hand. “And I will continue to love him in a way you never did, starting right now. Miss Milbank—”

  “I’m nearly finished,” she called out, much to Alex’s surprise.

  Alex hadn’t noticed that during the exchange, she had already sat to begin composing her statement. He turned back to Sterling. “My lord, did you know it only takes the word of two physicians to declare a man insane and have him committed? Considering what you did to Ben, I assume you do. You see, it has occurred to me that only a madman would arrange for his son’s rape. No sane man would do such a thing to his own flesh and blood. Why … I do think that would make you a prime candidate for Bedlam.

  “You sniveling little—”

  The viscount’s outburst and attempt to rise was quelled by Alex’s foot against his chest. He pinned Sterling down, not bothering to stifle the primal urge to inflict pain. The viscount grunted and squirmed beneath his shoe, but was unable to free himself.

  “I may be a fop and a molly, but I will break every bone in your face for what you’ve done to Ben,” Alex rasped. “Now pay very close attention. If you so much as sneeze in Ben’s direction, I will inform anyone and everyone of influence the contents of Miss Milbank’s letter. I might not be able to have you prosecuted for such a foul act, but I can ensure that no one of society will see you as a gentleman ever again. No decent home will be open to you, and what little power you possess will evaporate in an instant.”

  The viscount sneered, his eyes dancing with mocking amusement. “Have you forgotten that I have insurance of my own? A certain collection of letters that would prove the ruination of not only Benedict, but yourself.”

  Alex rolled his eyes at the predictable threat. Reaching into his breast pocket, he came out with the bundle of old, wrinkled pages tied together with twine. “Are you referring to these letters?” At the viscount’s grunts and rumblings of outrage, Alex laughed. “You aren’t the only one who knows how to throw his weight around as a peer, and in case you have forgotten, the Vautrey earldom and Osborne name are older and more esteemed than your own. If I was able to convince and pay someone to steal these letters from your home, what else might I be capable of?”

  “I don’t need the damned letters,” the viscount growled, all traces of his amusement gone. “The mere whisper of your nature into the right person’s ear would be enough.”

  Alex inclined his head toward Dr. Pruett, who had watched this entire exchange in curious silence. “That’s where Dr. Pruett and his colleague come in. If you breathe a word about Ben or myself to anyone, I will call upon them to declare you
insane. You will be left to suffer a slow and painful death in Bedlam, where you will find no sympathy or mercy. If you value your freedom as well as your life, I suggest you return to Norfolk and never show your face in London or Kent again. I will take it as a personal threat if you do, and I’ve been known to act irrationally when threatened.”

  “I’m finished,” Cynthia said from her corner of the room.

  “Very good, miss,” Dr. Pruett replied, retrieving a seal from within the satchel hanging from his arm. “If you would be so kind as to retrieve that taper, we will seal it properly.”

  As they set about that task, Ben remained stony and silent, leaving Alex to finish off the viscount. “Am I understood, Sterling?”

  The viscount refused to answer at first, glowering at Alex as if contemplating murder. Alex pressed his full weight on Sterling’s chest, producing gurgles and panicked flailing.

  “All right,” the viscount managed between wheezes. “All right, goddamn you! I agree!”

  Alex backed away just as the doctor approached.

  “It is done, my lord.”

  “Good,” Alex replied. “Now get out of my sight. I will send word when your new lodgings are prepared. Hodge, see Miss Milbank to the room I selected for her. She is not permitted to leave until I escort her off my property in the morning.”

  Pruett and the butler left with a silent Cynthia in tow. Alex stooped to take Sterling by his lapels and yank him to his feet. The man’s feet scrabbled on the slick tiles as he fought to get free, to no avail. Alex wrenched open the door to the corridor and threw Sterling over the threshold. Two of his biggest, strongest footmen awaited his orders.

  “See the viscount off Vautrey lands immediately. He is not permitted within a mile of the gates.”

  Alex slammed the door just as the men each took hold of Sterling’s arms, dragging him to the entrance hall. When he turned, Alex collided with Ben, who was upon him with a strong grip and a guttural growl. Alex found himself pinned to the nearest wall, with Ben’s mouth assaulting him in a feverish kiss.

  Ben’s hands braced his jaw, his lips devouring and his tongue plunging as he went at Alex as if starving for the kiss. Alex was breathless when they pulled apart, Ben’s eyes bright and burning with a dozen different emotions.

  “You ridiculous, daring, beautiful man,” Ben said with a shocked laugh. “How did you … when did you … I have so many questions.”

  Alex stroked Ben’s cheek, now dizzy from his sensual assault. “Impressed, are you?”

  “Impressed is too mild a word, but it will have to do. When I get you to bed, I’m going to show you just how impressed I am.”

  Alex laughed as Ben kissed his neck, his day’s worth of whiskers tickling the tender skin. “It doesn’t matter how or when. It only matters that it’s over. You’re safe now, and so are your friends.”

  Ben pulled him close, his head rested on Alex’s shoulder. “I can never thank you enough. Everything good that has happened this past month has been because of you. I was dying, slowly and painfully. You brought me back to life.”

  “You fought for it all on your own,” Alex insisted. “I couldn’t do it all alone. You were always the strong one, Ben. I think, for a time, you simply forgot that.”

  Ben leaned back so they were eye-to-eye, one hand bracing Alex’s cheek. “I love you. I haven’t said that to you in so long, and I almost missed my chance to say it again. I love you, Alex and I always will.”

  Alex leaned into Ben’s touch, absorbing it along with those sweet words. Ben had mumbled them while half-asleep and drugged from the aftermath of lust. This was different somehow, more real.

  “And I love you,” he replied. “Whatever comes next, I want you to experience it with me. I don’t want ever want to be away from you again. I know we cannot have the same sort of life as those who love one another and can legally wed and freely share their devotion. But if none of that matters to you, it doesn’t matter to me. I just want you and Ella, and a long life devoid of all the hurt and destruction our past has given us.”

  “Yes,” Ben replied, giving Alex a short, soft kiss. “I want that, too. Now that you’ve offered me the world, you’ll never be rid of me. You’ll be stuck with me when I’m old and fat and curmudgeonly.”

  Alex laughed and poked at Ben’s hard, flat stomach. “You will never be fat, and you’re already an insufferable curmudgeon.”

  Ben gave Alex a playful push, then patted his belly. “Just wait until you’ve lived with me long enough. I only have two states—hard as a marble statue, or soft as a buttered roll.”

  “Fortunately for you, I happen to adore buttered rolls. And I think I will enjoy feeding you desserts and watching you grow portly and gray.”

  Ben took his hand and led him back to the door of the dining room. “And I shall enjoy watching you, skinny and balding, still traipsing about in your banyans.”

  “Perhaps I’ll add a turban to the ensemble once I begin to age. I think they look rather dignified.”

  Alex squeezed Ben’s hand, enjoying the moment of intimacy before they had to hide their true affection from their guests. It didn’t matter that only a select few would know what they shared. Alex was grateful that they could be who they really were, free from prying eyes and judgment when they were alone. They could become what they were always meant to be.

  “Whatever you’re wearing,” Ben said just before they opened the door. “I will love you in it … and take joy in stripping it off you and throwing it to the floor.”

  After the party guests had been shown to their rooms for the night, Benedict, Alex, and the original four courtesans and their wives gathered in the drawing room for drinks. With Aubrey leading, they toasted to the defeat of the London Gossip and the permanent departure of Viscount Sterling. Port and sherry flowed as Benedict introduced Alex to Hugh and David and their wives. Hugh drew Alex into an absorbing conversation about painting, while Aubrey and Nick played at cards. Calliope sat at the piano to play for them, while Lucinda lingered nearby to chat with her. Regina and Evelyn sat side by side on the loveseat, shoes removed and pregnant bellies cradled by loving hands.

  Benedict stood back and watched them all with a deep sense of satisfaction settling over him. Just before they’d entered the drawing room, Nick had draped an arm over his shoulders and given him a little jostle.

  “Did you like that Gentleman Courters bit? Came up with it myself.”

  Benedict had laughed. “Of course, I ought to have known. Only you could have cooked up something so outlandish.”

  Nick had shrugged. “If you truly think about it, for all the times you insisted that we weren’t a matchmaking agency, it’s exactly how we ended up. You were just too damned good at your job, Ben. You found the perfect women for us and changed our lives. We owe you so much more than we gave tonight.”

  “Nonsense. I did it because you are all dear to me. No thanks are needed.”

  He smiled now as he thought of Nick’s comment regarding matchmaking. Apparently, that had been Benedict’s true talent all along—he simply hadn’t realized it.

  As his gaze fell on Alex, he was seized with the need to share what he had gained. The others would know who he really was, and what Alex meant to him. His earlier fears over being accepted had been shed the moment Benedict had killed the viscount in his mind. He didn’t wish true death on his father; he was simply content to live, pretending that the man was no longer walking this earth.

  Interrupting Alex’s talk with Hugh, Benedict took his arm and led him into full view of the room. “A moment, if you please,” he called out.

  Calliope ceased her playing, and Nick and Aubrey set down their cards.

  “What are you doing?” Alex hissed as Benedict’s hand snaked lower so he could intertwine their fingers.

  “Having done with the last of our secrets,” Benedict replied. “Do you trust me?”

  “With my life. I know you wouldn’t tell anyone who shouldn’t know.”

&nbs
p; Acknowledging the shocked and puzzled gazes of his friends, Benedict clung tight to Alex’s hand. “I could never repay you all for what you did for me tonight. I know your own families were at stake, but the lengths you went to … it showed me that we are all more than friends. We are a family, and families don’t keep secrets. I cannot express how sorry I am for feeling as if I couldn’t trust you with my own secret. For so long, I couldn’t rely on anyone, not even my own father … not my own self. But you four—my closest friends—and the women you’ve taken to wife … you’re the only family I ever had, and I want you to know who I really am.”

  Raising his and Alex’s joined hands, Benedict opened his mouth to deliver the rest when David’s voice floated from the other side of the room.

  “My God, he’s a molly!”

  Several pairs of narrowed eyes pinned David to the spot, and he winced, giving Alex an apologetic look.

  Alex took it in stride without missing a beat. “It’s true, I am. Oh, and so is Ben.”

  David was on his feet, disbelief morphing his features. Behind him, Aubrey watched from his chair while Nick slowly stood, his brow furrowed. Hugh remained silent, looking on with his typical perceptive gaze.

  “But … that can’t be!” David blurted. “When we were all bachelors, he … I mean … he ran through more Haymarket whores than any of us!”

  “There is also Celeste,” Nick offered. “I refuse to believe that any red-blooded man with sense would decline to—”

  “Dominick Burke, if you finish that sentence, I will murder you with my bare hands,” Calliope called from her place at the piano.

  “I wasn’t speaking of myself, Anni,” Nick replied with a sheepish grin. “I simply meant—”

  “That Lady Browning is a prime article,” David finished, failing to notice that his wife was glaring daggers at him. “Though she doesn’t hold a candle to my Regina.”

  The wife in question beamed and rubbed her belly, her ire soothed.