“Good evening, Mr. Huntington,” she said, arching a brow, as if daring him to break his control even more.
He drew in a few rough breaths and then forced himself to say, “Good evening, Miss Oliver.”
He turned on his heel and marched away, back toward the party they had each abandoned for their own purposes. Away from the temptation he could not surrender to again. Even if it meant every night he was here would be one he dreamed of her and took his pleasure in his hand in frustration.
Chapter 8
“I keep thinking about that servants’ entrance into the dressing room,” Barber said, sifting through his notes without looking up at Derrick.
A good thing, too, or he likely would have commented on the far-off expression Derrick knew was plastered on his face. How could it not be? All he could think about were those two kisses from the previous day.
“Yes, the servants’ entrance,” he repeated, dragging himself back to the present with difficulty. He shifted papers around on the desk that Roseford had provided in a private chamber where he and Barber could work. “It’s the perfect opportunity to access Lord and Lady Winford’s chamber, even when they’re in it. And we…I found a few places where the countess might hide her jewels, as well.”
“We?” Barber repeated. “Are you royalty now, Huntington?”
“Something like that,” Derrick said with a chuckle he hoped would put his far-too-clever friend off the scent. How else could he explain taking Selina Oliver into the room, investigating with her? Barber would tear into him. Derrick would deserve it.
“Are you certain you’re…well?” Barber asked, pushing his papers aside and leaned forward. His dark eyes were filled with worry, and guilt tugged in Derrick’s chest.
“I’m fine,” Derrick lied. “Right as rain.”
Barber tilted his head. “Seeing Gillingham before we left London brought back memories for me—I assume it is the same for you. Not all of them good. And being here, amongst these toffs, it must be odd after being out of that life for so long.”
Derrick shifted, thinking of what he’d told Selina about his grandfather. About his past. And what she’d said in return. That unexpected confidence had stirred up some old feelings. Ones he’d thought he’d buried.
“Gillingham nearly lost his life for us,” he said softly. “You and me and all the others. So I suppose I do feel a sense of responsibility when it comes to this case because we’ve involved him. As for my family, certainly being back in halls like this, Your-Gracing and my-lording all these…toffs is the best word…well, it’s odd. Perhaps I’m not on my top game, just as you suggest.”
Barber shook his head. “You’re always on your top game, mate. You don’t have any other option, it seems. Run, run, run. Go, go, go. It’s what makes you the best. But if there’s something I can do to help—”
Derrick lifted a hand to stop him. He couldn’t let Barber go on offering him assistance when the problem was Derrick’s cock and what it so inappropriately wanted.
“Don’t worry about me, friend,” he assured him. “When the Winford party arrives today, I will be more than ready to play the game.”
Barber looked as though he might say more, but before he could, there was a knock on the chamber door. Derrick turned toward it. “Yes?”
The door opened and the Duke of Roseford stood in the entryway. “Gentlemen,” he said. “I’m sorry to disturb your work. May I come in?”
Derrick and Barber both pushed to their feet and Derrick nodded. “Of course, Your Grace. What can we do for you?”
Roseford stepped into the chamber and softly shut the door behind him. His face was lined with worry as he paced around the room. “Ah, good. It seems you’ve been set up well here. I assume your private accommodations are comfortable, as well?”
“Very much so, Your Grace,” Barber said with a brief, questioning look at Derrick. “Your home is beautifully appointed and both of us have been made to feel most welcome.”
“And you are,” Roseford said, facing them. “Genuinely. You are both a wonderful addition to the party. All my brother’s kind words about you have proven to be true. But I have…concerns.”
His gaze flitted to Derrick as he said those words, and Derrick’s stomach clenched. Did Roseford know? Did he know about what had happened with Selina? Had she told him in a fit of conscience? Had someone seen them imprudently kissing in the hallway? That was a recipe for being called out or kicked out. And Barber would be furious, rightly so, as would Nicholas Gillingham.
“Of course, Your Grace,” Derrick said cautiously. “What is on your mind?”
He braced himself for the answer as Roseford took a long step toward them, his gaze still locked on Derrick. “The Winfords will arrive today. I’ve had word it will be some time after luncheon.”
Barber nodded slowly. “Very good. Then we can really begin our investigation.”
Roseford shifted, his discomfort evident on every line of his face, every restless movement of his body. He drew in a deep breath, and Derrick braced himself, but instead of confronting him about Selina, Roseford asked, “Will you two discuss the danger to them when they arrive?”
Derrick blinked, shocked that he had misread the situation so entirely. When he didn’t answer immediately, Barber stepped forward, shooting him a pointed look as he said, “Well, Your Grace, that is a consideration we must make on many of these cases. To reveal or not to reveal.”
“And why would you…not, if you don’t mind my asking,” Roseford pressed.
Derrick shook off his reactions, his bad assumptions, and focused. If he didn’t, it was only going to cause more trouble. “The Winfords were not the ones who hired us, Your Grace. We are simply using the threat against them in order to find the Faceless Fox.”
Roseford nodded. “I understand that and it makes sense on one hand. But on the other, these people are my guests, even if they are not my friends. They are coming to my home with a certain expectation of security and safety. I’m a bit uncomfortable with knowing there is a threat against them, but not telling them the truth. The danger is real, is it not?”
“The Fox has never been violent. In fact, just the opposite. Even in tricky situations, he uses his cunning, not weaponry or his fists. Not a single victim has ever been in physical threat of any kind, even the smallest.”
Barber sniffed behind him. His partner always complained that Derrick was too quick to defend the Fox. Where Derrick respected some of the man’s clever methods, Barber only saw a criminal.
He ignored the sound of derision and continued, “I understand your concerns. They speak very highly of your respectability.”
Roseford laughed at that. “Perish that thought. Certainly never spread it around, I have a reputation to uphold, you know.”
Derrick and Barber both laughed at the quip, and it was genuine. It was impossible not to like the man.
“For now,” Derrick continued, “I’d like to leave what we’re doing a secret. If only so that Lord and Lady Winford act naturally and don’t alert the Fox to the truth about our presence here. The fewer people who know the truth, the less likely it is that he’ll realize we’re right on his tail.”
Roseford seemed to ponder that for a moment, then nodded. “Very well, that makes sense. I assume if anything changes, we’ll reevaluate at that point.”
“Indeed,” Barber said. “And keep you apprised about anything that requires your assistance.”
“Thank you. I’m not trying to be troublesome or interfere in something I know nothing about. I just feel a certain obligation to my guests and my family.”
“Understandably,” Derrick said, his mind flashing to one of Roseford’s family members in particular. The man would be furious if he knew Derrick was allowing Selina to flit around in this investigation. And kissing her. And wanting to do far more than kiss her.
“I’ll leave you to your work,” Roseford said. “I need to see my wife, and then we’ll ready for the arrival of our
final guests. Until later, gentlemen.” He inclined his head, then left the room.
When he was gone and they were alone, Barber speared Derrick with a sharp gaze. “What were you concerned about when he came in?”
“Concerned?” Derrick said with a scoffing laugh he hoped covered the truth. “What could I be concerned about?”
“I saw your face,” Barber pushed. “I know you.”
“Damn but you do, it’s annoying as hell,” Derrick said with a chuckle. “I like Roseford, I do. He seems a decent fellow. I just don’t want him interfering, even with the best of intentions.”
Barber narrowed his gaze, and Derrick could tell he didn’t completely trust the lie. But he sighed as he retook his place and pulled his paperwork back toward him.
“You’re not wrong,” Barber said. “And that’s why we don’t generally involve outsiders in investigations. It only ever leads to trouble.” He glanced up. “Also, you’re a bloody awful liar, at least to me. But you can keep your counsel on your troubles if that’s what you like. I just hope it won’t endanger our case.”
Derrick forced himself to meet Barber’s eyes. “It won’t,” he promised. “I’ll be sure of it.”
That seemed to appease Barber, for he went back to organizing his notes. But Derrick’s own words did nothing to appease himself. He knew the trouble he was in. He knew the cause of it. And he knew he had to get back into total control now or risk more than this case.
* * *
Selina stood on the drive beside her brother, watching as a carriage came up the long road from the gate toward the estate house. Her heart jumped as she watched it, because she knew her quarry was inside. The necklace she had been longing for since she heard of its existence, the woman who deserved the loss of such a beautiful thing—everything was coming together at last, and she could barely keep from bouncing with excitement.
As the carriage pulled onto the drive, she hesitated, for she felt a prickle up the back of her neck. Like she was being watched. She turned and looked up at the house. The front parlor window had its shades pulled open and there, standing at the glass, was Derrick Huntington.
Not a huge surprise considering her quarry was tied to his own investigation. Of course he would come to watch the arrival, read the situation as he so frustratingly could. Except he wasn’t. He wasn’t looking at the hustle and bustle on the drive.
He was watching her. His gaze burned into her from behind the glass, and she felt her body react even if it shouldn’t. Even if she didn’t want it to. When he looked at her with that stern, focused stare, she wanted things that went beyond a seduction to gain control. She wanted more than sex for fun or to make her true motives invisible to him. She wanted pleasure. She wanted burning, powerful sensation. She wanted all the promises she saw in those eyes, the ones he tried to fight. And it had nothing to fucking do with a necklace or the Faceless Fox.
Just like the previous night in the Winfords’ chamber hadn’t been about the jewels or his investigation. She had…told him things. About her life, about her past. Things she didn’t speak about to anyone. Why? How had he drawn that from her without effort?
Was it the darkness of the room, where confession felt safe? Was it the strange, powerful energy that seemed to course through them? Was it the thrill of the hunt, one she rarely shared with another person? Vale might be her associate, but she only did research, distraction when necessary. The Fox worked alone. Until last night when Selina had searched the room alongside a man bound to hunt her down.
In the end, perhaps it didn’t matter why she’d whispered about her past, her father, to Derrick. She’d done it, and now she was…vulnerable. She couldn’t be vulnerable. Not with what was to come.
“Selina?”
She jolted as she realized Katherine had laid a hand on her arm and drawn her back to the situation right in front of her. She pivoted around and found Lady Winford standing before her. The woman was lovely, no one would deny her that. She had thick, rich auburn hair that was done just so, bright green eyes and a wicked sneer on her lips as she glanced up and down Selina’s form.
“May I present our sister, Selina Oliver,” Katherine said, squeezing Selina’s elbow gently in a movement of solidarity.
She needed it, for though the countess gave a polite greeting, it was clear she thought nothing of Selina. Because everyone in Society knew exactly what Selina was. Or at least most of what she was.
The nasty expression on the countess’s face was almost the same as if she had whispered the words they loved to say behind Selina’s back. Bastard. By-blow. Illegitimate. Not our kind.
“Lady Winford,” Selina forced herself to say. “I’ve heard so much about you. What a pleasure to finally meet you.”
She could risk that lie because she doubted this woman remembered the real first time they’d met. In passing at some other party. When Selina had watched her berate a servant until the girl was weeping hysterically. The servant had been sacked, out on the street before the next morning. And Lady Winford had flounced off with a smirk on her face, ready to go back to her damned party and dance the rest of the night away.
She wouldn’t remember Selina. She probably wouldn’t remember the servant. People like her never did.
“Indeed,” Lady Winford said with a sniff.
“And this is Lord Winford,” Katherine said, motioning to the man coming up to stand beside his wife.
The earl was an older man, far older than his wife, with a perpetual scowl and temples that had gone further gray every year of his marriage. The whispers around Town were that the man was miserable, despised his wife and hated that she crowed about inheriting her mother’s necklace. All of which could potentially be used against the couple. Selina would just have to watch how their interactions played out, how they moved together.
“My lord,” she said, smiling at the man. Of course his gaze moved to her breasts. God, these fools were easy to manipulate.
“Come into the house, why don’t you?” Robert said, his voice strained as he motioned the party inside. “I’m sure you’re tired after your long journey. My man Jenner will show you to your chamber and see to any needs you have before tea this afternoon.”
Lady Winford was complaining about something as she followed Robert into the house, all but dragging her husband behind her. As they went in, Selina and Katherine exchanged a look, and Katherine smothered a giggle.
“She is just as pleasant as I recalled,” she whispered conspiratorially. “Perhaps even more so.”
“Yes, she’s…something,” Selina said, forcing herself not to go too far. Temperance was best in these situations, and she had to find it even though she knew her own personality. Restraint had never been one of her virtues. She linked her arm through Katherine’s as they slowly made their way up the stairs to the house. “You and Robert are good to invite her to help your friend.”
“We take care of those we love,” Katherine said, with almost a faraway tone. Then she pivoted and looked Selina full in the face. “All of them. It’s the best thing we can do, isn’t it?”
Selina was torn by two different emotions. First was a strong pull at the idea that her brother and his remarkable wife…loved her. She’d believed they tolerated her, yes. Felt responsible for her, of course. Even liked her from time to time when she was particularly clever or reminded them of the good parts of Robert’s wild past.
But Katherine was obviously trying to say that it was more than all those things. And that touched Selina’s heart far deeper than perhaps it should have.
The other feeling that clenched in her chest at those words was colder. Sharper. If Katherine was saying that she and Robert loved Selina, that meant the love could be lost. If they knew the truth about her…if they found out she was the Faceless Fox, would they love her anymore? Could they?
Or would they abandon her like the rest of her family had all those years ago?
“Selina?” Katherine said, squeezing her hand gently as they sto
od in the doorway between the outside and the foyer. “You’ve gone pale. I hope I haven’t upset you.”
“Not at all,” Selina choked as she forced a smile. She refused to lose her new family’s love, for she wasn’t going to get caught. She was the Fox, damn it.
“Oh, it looks like Jenner is glancing my way, with a look of help all over his countenance. I ought to intervene before Lady Winford causes my staff to go on strike.”
Selina released her with a more real smile and watched as she hustled away, that easy expression of calm on her face. Katherine had been through a great deal. Scandal had once followed her. But now she seemed so comfortable in herself. She’d once told Selina that love had helped do that. Robert had allowed her to have faith where once she’d only questioned.
Selina turned away with a wince and found herself facing the parlor where she’d seen Derrick standing a short time ago. Was he still there? She ought not to go find out. Right now she was a bit discombobulated, off her game thanks to the emotional connection Katherine had implied. Selina shouldn’t face an…well, she supposed she had to call Derrick an enemy since he was hunting her.
And yet she couldn’t resist doing just that. She slipped away from the chaos of the foyer and into the room.
He wasn’t standing by the window anymore, but he was in front of the fire. Just standing there, arms folded, gaze focused on the door…as if he were waiting for her. He was not wearing a jacket. She could see it draped across the back of a chair behind him. Just a plain black waistcoat and the sleeves of his linen shirt rolled up to his elbows, revealing muscular forearms. One of them had a scar across it.
Behind her, the voices in the foyer faded as Jenner and Katherine finally convinced Lord and Lady Winford to go and see their accommodations. In that moment, Selina and Derrick were alone.
“Mr. Huntington,” she said at last, her voice far softer than it should be. The tremor there was something he would surely mark.
He cleared his throat, but his voice was still low and rough when he said, “Miss Oliver.”
The Heart of a Hellion: The Duke’s Bastards Book 2 Page 8