The rider brought the horse to a halt several feet away. “I believe I have something of yours,” he said mockingly.
Dante frowned up into the darkness as he recognized that voice. “Devil?”
“The same,” Sebastian Trentham, the Marquis of Deveril, drawled as he swung a leg over the horse’s neck to slide down to the ground. His movements were sure and fluid despite the fact he was holding something in his arms.
No, not something, but someone.
Bella.
Dante’s heart went cold as he realized she was unmoving in Devil’s arms. Another of The Sinners, Deveril had always been known to his close friends as simply Devil.
Dante had no idea what the other man was doing in Hampshire at all, let alone this late at night. Or how he came to be carrying Bella on his horse with him.
“She ran into me, literally, about a mile from here,” Devil said briskly when Dante made no reply.
His heart lurched to a stop. “You ran her down?”
“Strictly speaking, she ran me down,” the other man murmured derisively. “But as Thunder is so much bigger than she, she obviously came out the worst of the encounter. I do not think she has suffered any serious injury but… Careful,” he warned as Dante finally managed to snap himself out of his daze and stepped forward to take Bella into his own arms.
“Give her to me,” he all but growled at the other man.
“Fine.” The surprise at Dante’s aggression could be heard in Devil’s voice as he relinquished Bella’s light weight into Dante’s arms. “I believe she fainted rather than suffered any harm from Thunder’s hooves. I am a little worried she has not regained consciousness, however.”
Dante barely listened to the other man as he turned and began striding back toward his hunting lodge. He was vaguely aware of Devil walking beside him rather than remounting his horse, but his own attention was concentrated on returning Bella to the hunting lodge and not in making conversation. Devil seemed no more inclined to talk either. No doubt the other man would explain his reason for being here when it suited him to do so. Devil was an absolute law unto himself and always had been.
Dante made short work of the walk back, anxious to get Bella back into the warmth. Once in the candlelight, he would be able to check her for injury.
She was still unconscious when Dante laid her down on the couch. Her cheeks were a little pale, but her breathing seemed normal, and he could see no obvious injuries after folding back her cloak.
“Drink some of this.” Devil held out one of the two glasses of brandy he had just poured. He’d remained outside briefly in order to secure his horse and see to its needs before coming inside.
Dante grimaced. “It was my having drunk too much of that which helped lead to this situation in the first place.”
Devil sipped his own brandy. “Explain.”
So Dante explained the events of the previous evening—omitting the more intimate parts of the past few days—finishing with his need to drink tea after consuming half a bottle of brandy, and making the mistake of leaving Bella alone while he went to fill the kettle.
“That all sounds perfectly reasonable to me.” Devil made himself comfortable in one of the armchairs. As tall as Dante, he had mid-brown hair and eyes so dark they appeared almost black: probably another reason the Sinners had nicknamed him Devil while they were at school together.
“What are you doing here?” Dante prompted curiously.
The other man shrugged. “Nik thought your note to him sounded a little strained and wondered if perhaps it might not be better if I took over where this particular lady is concerned.”
“Nik can go fu—” Dante broke off with a wince as he realized he was allowing his emotions to get the better of him.
His mood and state of mind were none of Devil’s doing. Or Nik’s either.
But Dante certainly had no intention of leaving Bella alone with Devil. For some inexplicable reason, his friend’s bored disinterest in the ladies only seemed to make them want him more. Dante had no reason to suppose Bella would be any different, and she was his, damn it.
“Your assistance is unnecessary,” he refused stiffly.
Devil glanced at the reclining Bella. “Do you think she is the guilty lady?”
He sighed heavily. “I think her having run away twice, the second time successfully, points in that direction, yes.”
“My running away is a direct result of your own despicable behavior in having kidnapped me,” the subject of their conversation accused as she gingerly moved into a sitting position on the couch. “Like any captive, I took the opportunities presented to me in order to try to escape.”
Dante watched her remove her cloak and bonnet, straightening her hair after the latter. “How long have you been awake?”
Bella met and held his gaze. “Since you insisted on carrying me back here. But I was tired and winded after running and then being knocked down by a horse, and decided it was the least you could do when you are the reason I am here at all.” She ignored Dante’s hiss of disbelief as she turning her attention to the second man in the room. “Lord Trentham, the Marquis of Deveril,” she recognized. From what she had heard of the two men’s conversation, Deveril, also a Sinner, was yet another agent for the Crown.
He was also recognized as being one of the most handsome men in England, his brown hair fashionably styled, his features saturnine, his dark eyes glittering, his tall physique muscular and fit. He was also one of the most eligible gentlemen in the country, possessing a vast fortune as well as his title.
He now rose to his feet and gave her a formal bow. “Lady Aston.”
She raised her eyebrows at the formality. “Do you also believe me guilty of treason?”
His brows rose at her immediate attack. “I have no opinion on the matter,” he dismissed.
“And yet you are here on the instruction of Dominik Sinclair, the Duke of Stonewell, and a spymaster for the Crown?” She gave Dante a triumphant glance as she saw from his expression that she had correctly guessed who the Nik was mentioned by the marquis earlier. That she was also correct in her assumption he was that third party and so spymaster for the Crown spoken of by Dante.
Deveril did not confirm or deny her comment regarding Stonewell’s involvement. “I am here to offer my assistance in proving your innocence or guilt.”
She snorted. “I fear you are a little late in your intent when your friend over there has already mentally stood me in front of a magistrate, seen me found guilty and sentenced, and is now waiting for that sentence to be carried out!”
“His friend over here has done no such thing,” Dante defended impatiently.
Bella gave him a dismissive glance before she turned her attention back to the marquis. “I hope you have brought good news, my lord?”
“Inconclusive so far, I am afraid, ma’am.” He grimaced. “The Monroes have not been found as yet, but we have several men searching the roads to Scotland for the inn in which they might have decided to spend the night.”
“Their trip will be a wasted one,” she assured him with certainty. “I very much doubt the Monroes are any more guilty of treason than I am. The only thing I am guilty of is being gullible enough to have trusted Dante.” She shot him another resentful glare before once again looking at Deveril. “I believe I should prefer, as has been suggested by the Duke of Stonewell, if you were to take over proving my innocence, my lord.”
Dante rose abruptly to his feet. “You may prefer all you please, Bella, but I am the one who shall prove you innocent or guilty.”
“You have already found me guilty without so much as a shred of evidence to confirm that belief,” she returned heatedly.
“If you were not such a hotheaded little minx who is shortly to have her bottom soundly spanked—”
“You will not dare to lay a hand on me—”
“Now, now, children,” Deveril drawled, dark eyes dancing with humor at their behavior. “Personally, I think all this will look
clearer in the morning. For myself, I have had a long day and would like to go to my bed,” he continued unabashed in the face of Dante’s glare in his direction. “Might I suggest the two of you do the same?”
Bella felt the warmth in her cheeks at the openly curious glance Deveril gave Dante. Nor could she or Dante deny the speculation in the marquis’s dark eyes. She had pleasured Dante in his carriage earlier. The two of them had shared a bed and lovemaking the previous night.
That would not be the case again tonight. “I concur, my lord.” She stood up. “I will wish you both a good night.” She did not so much as spare Dante a second glance as she swept from the room and ascended the stairs.
Dante waited until Bella had turned at the top of the staircase and disappeared down the hallway before muttering, “Little witch.”
Devil chuckled softly. “One who seems to have bewitched you, my friend.”
As she had bewitched Mr. Rogers the previous night.
Dante did not even bother attempting to deny there was a sexual tension between himself and Bella. How could he when it was so palpable, Devil must be able to hear it in every word they spoke to each other. “She is utterly infuriating.”
“No more so than you are.” Bella’s words floated softly down the stairs.
Dante drew in a deep, controlling breath. “Listeners never hear any good of themselves.”
“Nor do pigheaded inebriates.”
Dante ignored Devil’s snort of laughter to answer Bella. “You are responsible for my having turned to drink.”
“I did not force the brandy down your throat.”
“Go to your bedchamber,” Dante snapped his exasperation.
“Yes, Father.”
He scowled at the taunt. “I will be coming upstairs shortly to administer your punishment, as I promised I would if you ran away and put me to the trouble of following you.”
“You can try,” was followed by the sound of a door firmly closing.
Dante was sure Bella would have turned the key in the lock too. But if she thought that would stop him, then she was mistaken. He actually relished the chance to kick down the door to her bedchamber. It exactly suited his current mood of both frustration and relief that she had been returned to him unharmed.
Now he knew how a parent felt when their child got themselves into a dangerous situation through their own stupidity. Relief mixed with anger. Relief that Bella had come to no lasting harm. Anger and the need for retribution for her having put herself in danger in the first place.
Father, he snorted inwardly. Hah, he would very shortly show Bella just how un-fatherly his feelings were toward her.
Devil rose lithely to his feet. “I can see you have this situation well in hand,” he derided.
Dante glared. “Taken in hand is what that young lady is shortly going to be for having disobeyed me.”
His friend eyed him speculatively. “You have the look of a man who will enjoy administering that punishment far too much.”
He chuckled softly as he rose to his feet. “I advise you to ignore any cries for help you hear coming from Bella’s bedchamber tonight.”
“I am so tired after the long ride here, I shall sleep as if I am dead,” Devil assured him. “But just in case, I shall place a pillow over my head to block out any strange noises.” He paused at the bottom of the stairs. “It would also seem my presence here is superfluous, and that I must return to London and begin pursuit of my own lady spy,” he added with a frown.
He eyed the other man curiously. “Whose name did you draw from Nik’s top hat?”
“Alys Newcomb,” Devil revealed heavily.
Dante was starting to see a pattern developing here. And to wonder if the drawing of those names from Nik’s hat had been as random as they had appeared at the time. Devil, he knew, would rather have chosen the name of any woman but Alys. At the same time as the other man would not risk allowing any of the other Sinners to pursue her. Much as it had been for him with Bella.
Devil’s jaw was tight as he spoke again. “I will be leaving to return to London early in the morning.”
Dante nodded. “For what it is worth, you have my full sympathy in your dilemma.”
He remained downstairs for several minutes after the other man had gone to bed, knowing there was no need for him to show Devil to a bedchamber. The other man was familiar with the layout of the hunting lodge, having stayed here many times before. Devil knew which room was Dante’s, and obviously the closed bedchamber door would be the room Bella had taken for her own. Devil could have his pick of any of the other four bedchambers.
Dante took the time to bank up the fire in the hope it would stay in until morning. He also lit the range in the kitchen, knowing they would have need of it to cook with tomorrow. The pile of logs inside the house could be replenished in the morning.
When there seemed to be nothing more for him to do down here, Dante glanced toward the stairs.
Would Bella be waiting for her punishment as he had instructed she should?
Or would he need to kick the door down after all?
Either way, it was time that Bella learned he would not tolerate her rebellious nature another moment longer, most especially when it put her in danger.
Chapter 10
Bella was trembling as she lay beneath the bedcovers staring at the closed and locked door of her bedchamber. Surely Dante would not force the issue of her punishment when his friend was also now in residence?
Knowing Dante as she did, she doubted the marquis’s presence would deter him in the slightest from doing what he had promised he would.
Spank her bottom.
Why did even the thought of that send a shiver of both excitement and anticipation down her spine?
She did not remember her father, but her mother had been the gentlest of parents and Henry St. Just, the most amiable of stepfathers. As his father had been a kind stepgrandfather. Even the dowager, Agatha St. Just, had hurt Bella only with words rather than physical chastisement.
And yet the thought of Dante baring her bottom and spanking her caused Bella’s nipples to tighten and a dampness to heat between her thighs. He—
Bella tensed as a knock sounded on the door, her fingers tightly clutching the bedcovers against her breasts.
“I know you are not asleep,” Dante spoke quietly through the closed door. “Unlock the door and let me inside.”
It was no surprise to her that he had known she had locked the door.
“Bella!” His voice sharpened at her lack of response.
Realizing he was not going away, Bella quickly climbed out of the bed to cross the room on bare feet. Perhaps it would have been more sensible of her to have delayed preparing for bed until she was sure Dante had retired to his own bedchamber. As it was, she wore only her night rail, and her hair was loose about her shoulders and down her spine. “Stop talking so loudly,” she hissed. “You will disturb the marquis.”
“The marquis has promised not to listen,” he growled. “Now open the damned door.”
Bella was astonished at his comment regarding the marquis. She was also outraged enough to unlock and open the door before standing challenging in the doorway. “What do you mean, Deveril has promised not to listen?”
Dante raised a dark brow. “He has assured me he will not leap to your rescue when he hears your screams.”
She gave a snort. “I shall not scream.”
“We shall see about that.” He bared his teeth in a smile as he put her gently to one side and entered the bedchamber. “Close the door, Bella.”
There was a strange fluttering sensation in the pit of her stomach at the assured way in which Dante marched into her bedchamber as if he had a perfect right to do so. It was as if a part of her almost wished she could stop fighting him and just give in.
She could not, of course. Dante believed her to be guilty of a crime she had not committed. No amount of command on his part could prevent her from fighting against that. Against him.
“Close the door,” he repeated softly.
“Close it yourself.” Bella deliberately walked away from the open doorway. “And make sure you are on the other side of it when you do so— Dante!” she gasped as he crossed the room and kicked the door closed before turning to glare at her. “What will the marquis think—”
“He will assume—knows full well—that I am bringing you to task for your disobedience,” he assured her grimly as he strode toward her.
Bella took a step back to every one Dante took forward, until her thighs came into contact with the bed and she could retreat no farther. She held her hands up defensively “You cannot do this.”
“Watch me.” He continued to advance until he stood directly in front of her. “You can either kneel beside the bed and bend over, raise your night rail ready to receive your punishment, or I will do it for you.”
She swallowed as her mouth filled with saliva before going as suddenly dry as she saw the dangerous intent in those glittering dark green eyes. “I am not a child,” she protested weakly.
“And I do not intend to punish you as one,” he assured her softly.
“A spanked bottom is retribution for a child.”
“Not the way I intend administering it.”
Bella ran her tongue nervously across her lips. “How—”
“Kneel. Bend. Lift your night rail. Now,” Dante added harshly as she remained unmoving.
“This is ridiculous—”
“No, your behavior earlier tonight was ridiculous.” He glared. “You could have been attacked by a wild boar as you walked unprotected through the forest, and bled to death before anyone found you.”
Bella recalled those glittering eyes she had seen in the darkness and her mad flight to escape whatever predator was stalking her. “There are wild boar here?”
“A few, yes.”
She repressed a shiver. “I do not—”
“Do not force me to make you obey me, Bella,” Dante snapped.
There was no doubting the anger thrumming through his tightly tensed body. Bella continued to stare at him for several long rebellious seconds before she slowly turned to kneel beside the bed.
Wicked Surrender (Regency Sinners 2) Page 9