His Sinful Touch

by Candace Camp

  “Sabrina’s not ‘my lady,’ but yes, we must make sure she’s not married to him—and if she is, figure out how to get her out of it.”

  “That, dear brother, would not be an easy task.”

  “I know. But I have no intention of sending her back to that lot.”

  Con regarded him in silence for a moment, then said quietly, “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

  Alex shrugged one shoulder. “Love? I barely know her. Indeed, I don’t know her.”

  Con snorted. “Don’t be daft. You have the look of the Moreland male in love—like you’ve just been struck between the eyes with a cricket bat.”

  “Don’t start all that Moreland love-at-first-sight lecture again.”

  “It’s worked well enough for all the others. I don’t seem to have that ability any more than I can foretell the future or whatever it is you do.” A certain wistfulness touched his face before he grinned and went on. “It would certainly be nice to have Anna here. Maybe she could tell us what happened to Miss Blair.”

  “I don’t think she’s all-knowing, Con. She just gets flashes of events that are going to occur.”

  “She knew where those murders happened—she felt it at the scene. Remember?”

  “All too clearly. I remember tossing up my accounts.”

  “It was rather gruesome.”

  “In any case, I am able to feel that sort of thing, too, and it hasn’t helped me a bit. Although...I have found that I can do more than I realized. I’ve been working at it a little since Sabrina arrived, and I’m getting rather good at getting at least some sense of a person who’s emotionally connected to an object. I’m able to detect the gender most of the time now, and I can even distinguish in some vague way whether I’m getting the same person from various objects. It works better the more recent it is.”

  “You can identify the person?”

  “I don’t know who they are. I can’t describe them. But I can recognize it as the same sensation that was connected to something else.”

  “I don’t know why you were the one to get the talent. Your ability would be much more useful for me. Although...” Con mused. “What would be best is to be able to tell when someone’s lying—the way I can tell you are when you say you don’t love Miss Blair.”

  “I didn’t say I didn’t love her.”

  “No, you just avoided it. Which, I must add, is another thing you’re terribly good at.”

  “The devil take it, of course I care for her. I could care a great deal. It would be the easiest thing in the world to fall in love with Sabrina.”

  “So what’s stopping you?”

  “I don’t want to fall in love with her! It could be disastrous. She doesn’t know who she is.”

  “She does now—Miss Holcutt told her. That’s what she is good at, knowing everything.”

  Alex chuckled. “You’re rather hard on Miss Holcutt. She’s not so bad.”

  “She’s not bad at all. Ever. And that is her problem. But we’re talking about you and Miss Blair right now. Why does her lack of memory stop you? She’s the woman you know now, whatever her past may be. I can’t imagine that her lack of lineage would make you hesitate.”

  Alex made a face. “Of course not. And it’s not because I’ve known her such a short time. I trust my instincts, as we all tend to. I know who she is right now. But what’s going to happen when she remembers her past? I want her to recover her memory because it distresses her that she cannot. I want her to look at me then and say, ‘Oh, yes, you are exactly the man I want.’ But what if she doesn’t? She might be a very different person when she comes back to herself.”

  “You really think she would change that much?” Con cocked a skeptical eyebrow.

  “I have to consider the possibility. Don’t roll your eyes at me. I’m trying to be practical. To do the right thing. It would be vastly unfair of me to take advantage of her vulnerability. To woo her, knowing that she’s grateful to me, to us all, and needs my help, that she can’t really weigh me against the other men she knows.”

  “Well, she knows Peter Dearborn. I think you can safely say she likes you better than him.”

  “You can be very irritating.”

  “So I’ve been told.”

  “The thing is, what if this claim of marriage isn’t a lie? She could be married, and she’s not the sort of woman who breaks her vows. If she remembered after we...after she’d committed herself to me, it would cause her a great deal of pain. If she loved me but felt obligated to him, she would be torn. Or maybe he’s telling the truth, and she did love him. That’s possible—maybe his father is merely obnoxious, but he had nothing to do with their marriage. Or maybe she loved some other man. She’s twenty and beautiful. How likely is it that there aren’t men lined up, wanting her? Or that she hasn’t fallen in love with any of them? Whoever it was, she would feel guilty because she had been unfaithful to him—and guilty for hurting me when she went back to him.”

  “That’s a lot of speculation.”

  “It’s hardly a well-ordered situation.”

  “You think too much about everyone else’s wounded feelings and what they want or deserve. What about you and what you want?”

  “I am thinking of me,” Alex protested. “Don’t you see? How can I give her my heart when I know she may realize she doesn’t love me? What happens when this deep Morelandesque love isn’t returned?”

  Con looked at him for a long moment, then sighed. “I don’t know.” He finished his drink and set aside his glass. “Makes it even more imperative to find out the truth about her, then, doesn’t it? I’m going upstairs now to get out of this idiotic disguise. Come with me and we’ll decide what we’re going to do once I look normal again.”

  “Or as normal as you can look.” Alex followed him out the door.

  “Ha. Any criticism of my looks only reflects badly on yours,” Con retorted.

  They went up the stairs, amiably exchanging brotherly insults. At the top, they heard the sound of women’s voices coming from the small room their mother had taken over as her office. The men exchanged grins.

  “Sounds like Mother has taken the girls captive,” Alex said. “I guess Sabrina didn’t make it to her room to rest.”

  “The mind boggles at the idea of Mother and Miss Holcutt exchanging ideas.”

  They turned in that direction, and as they drew near, they heard the duchess speaking in a tone that brooked no argument. “...the time for extreme action! Women are fully capable of deciding their own destinies.”

  “Of course they are,” Miss Holcutt replied in a cool, precise voice. “But surely a woman can be strong and accomplish much without having to perform outrageous stunts.”

  “Chaining oneself to the prime minister’s railing is not a stunt. It is a very apt symbol of the blatant slavery in which women have been held for centuries. Moreover—”

  The twins stepped into the room as Alex said, “Careful, Mother, you’ll frighten our guests away.”

  “Ha! I doubt Miss Holcutt is the sort who will cut and run.” The duchess’s eyes were sparkling, her color up, and it was clear she was enjoying herself thoroughly.

  Apparently so was Miss Holcutt, if high color and bright eyes were any indication, though she sat with the same prim correctness she had downstairs, with her hands folded in her lap. Of Sabrina, there was no sign.

  “Where’s Sa—Miss Blair?” Alex asked, glancing around the room.

  “She’s taking a nap. I was leaving her room when I ran into the duchess,” Lilah explained.

  “Yes, we have had a most invigorating chat. I can’t tell you how good it is to have a discussion with someone of the opposing viewpoint who can actually think.”

  “No doubt.”

  The duchess came over to her sons, reaching out to pull Con into an embrace. “I didn’t have an op
portunity to greet you before, love. How are you? And why are you wearing that horrid disguise? Some case, I take it.”

  “Yes. The Divine End congregation. They thought they, the righteous group of eighty-one, would be transported straight up while the rest of us would plunge through great cracks in the ground down to the fiery pit. Though why anyone would choose those eighty-one souls to spend eternity with, I cannot imagine.”

  “Eighty-one? What a peculiar number,” Miss Holcutt said, then looked a trifle embarrassed and added, “Not that it’s anything but nonsense.”

  “They decided eighty-one was the sacred number because three times three is nine and nine times nine is eighty-one, so that’s the maximum extension of the Trinity. Personally, I thought three times three times three would be the most trinity-invoking, but I suspect their leader wanted the worldly possessions of more than twenty-seven people.”

  “Well, I do hope you are going to change back, Constantine dearest,” the duchess said, patting his arm. “Those checks are dangerous to one’s eyesight.”

  He grinned. “I’m going to change right now. Then I’m off to investigate the Dearborns. Alex, it seems to me that it might be good for you and Miss Blair to go back to her London house, give it another try.”

  “Oh, no! You mustn’t,” Lilah protested, and the others turned to her in surprise. “I mean, well, of course you can, but I don’t think it would be safe for Sabrina to leave the house, with that man watching it.”

  “What?” Alex stiffened. “What man? What are you talking about?”

  “The man standing across the street, staring at the house. At least, he was there a while ago when Sabrina and I came upstairs.”

  “Perhaps you should ask Miss Holcutt to work at your agency, Con,” his mother said in an amused tone.

  “It was Sabrina who noticed him, actually.”

  “Where?” Alex asked. “Show us where you saw him.”

  Miss Holcutt swept out of the room, followed by Con and Alex and the curious duchess. She led them to the bow window and its plush window seat. “Oh. He’s gone. He was right there by that lamppost.” She pointed. “No, wait! There he is. He’s farther down the block, by that carriage.”

  All of them leaned in, peering at the figure beside the carriage.

  “Are you sure that’s him?” Con asked. “It’s a long way away.”

  “Unless you think there are two men wandering about this street dressed in workman’s clothing and wearing green caps.” Lilah raised an eyebrow at him.

  “Yes, yes, I didn’t mean to insult your eyesight,” Con responded. “Wait here—keep an eye on him. I’ll be back in a tick.” Con took off down the hall at a trot.

  “Where is he off to?” Lilah asked.

  “I’d guess he’s looking for his spyglass,” Alex replied, studying the carriage. Below them, a maid walked past the house in the opposite direction, and a hackney rattled down the road, but Alex didn’t bother to glance at them. “Do you recognize that carriage, Miss Holcutt? Could it be the Dearborns?”

  “I don’t know, but I would guess that they aren’t at their London home often enough to have a carriage here, unless that’s how they arrived in London.”

  “Probably renting it, then.” Alex wished Con would hurry up.

  “If that is them in the carriage.”

  “I think it’s unlikely that this isn’t related to them.”

  Con returned, spyglass in hand. “Here.” He handed the instrument to Lilah. “See if you can tell who is in that carriage.”

  “Me?” Lilah looked up at him in surprise.

  “Yes. You know them better than any of us—you’ll be more able to tell if it’s one of the Dearborns.”

  Lilah nodded and held the instrument up to one eye. She jumped as a window loomed before her. “That’s so close.”

  “Yes, it’s powerful. Here.” Con gently pushed the glass downward toward the carriage. “Just move it slowly. It’ll come into view.”

  “Oh! There he is. Yes, that is definitely the man who was standing across the street. I can’t see anyone in the carriage, just an arm on the window. A man’s arm, but his face is too far back in the shadows.” She watched silently.

  Alex wanted to snatch the spyglass away from her and look through it himself, but he refrained. He wasn’t sure why he felt so restless. There was nothing the man could do, just sitting there in the carriage.

  “He’s moving now,” Lilah said.

  “Who? The carriage?”

  “No, the man standing beside it, the one watching the house. He’s headed away from here. I think he’s leaving.”

  “What about the man in the carriage?”

  Lilah shook her head, then stiffened. “He’s leaning forward now, he’s looking up at the house.” She jumped back, lowering the spyglass. “I’m sorry—he just seemed so close. Yes, that’s Mr. Dearborn. I don’t know if Peter is with him. I only saw the man on this side.”

  “Maybe he’s going to take over the watch,” Con suggested. “A chap loitering about the lamppost was sure to draw attention eventually. A carriage will provide better cover.” He glanced at Alex. “Alex? What’s the matter?”

  “What do you mean?” Alex jammed his hands in his pockets.

  “You’re nervous as a cat,” Con retorted. “You keep glancing around.”

  “I don’t know. Just Dearborn watching the house, I suppose. It’s only... Something feels wrong.”

  “Wrong how?” Con narrowed his eyes at his brother.

  “Alex!” The duchess stretched her hand out to touch his arm. “Are you all right? Is it one of your—” She stopped, casting a little glance at Lilah, and continued, “Are you feeling something?”

  “It’s nothing, Mother.” Alex shook his head. Lilah Holcutt was not someone they should be discussing his peculiar abilities in front of.

  “About Sabrina?” Con asked intently. “You’re sensing—”

  “Good God.” Alex froze. His chest felt peculiarly...empty. “You’re right. It’s Sabrina. She’s gone.”

  Chapter Twenty

  “WHAT?” LILAH HOLCUTT gaped at him.

  Alex whirled and took off down the hall toward Sabrina’s bedchamber. “Sabrina!”

  The others hurried after him, and Lilah cried out, “Wait. No. Sabrina’s sleeping. You can’t barge into her bedroom!”

  “The hell I can’t.” Alex flung open the door. He saw, as he had expected, a bed still pristinely made up. He began to curse.

  “How did you know...what happened?” Lilah looked around in confusion. “I don’t understand.”

  “Alex can—” Con paused, glancing at Lilah. “He has a connection to Sabrina.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Alex told Lilah tersely, grabbing her arm. “Where is she?”

  Lilah stared at him in astonishment. “I don’t know. How would I? I thought she was in here asleep!” She winced as his grip tightened.

  “Alex...” Con took his twin’s wrist. “Ease up. You’re hurting her.”

  “Oh.” Alex looked down at his hand in surprise. “I beg your pardon, Miss Holcutt.” He released her and stepped back, shoving his hands into his hair, willing himself to think. “Where could they have gotten in—”

  “Don’t be daft,” Con told Alex. “She’s probably just gone to...to the library. Or Wellie got loose and she’s chasing him.”

  “Chasing Wellie! Who’s that?” Lilah stared at him.

  “No, she’s not here. She’s—I can’t...” Alex felt as if he were drowning.

  “Oh, for goodness’ sake.” The duchess walked briskly to the bellpull and yanked it several times. “Let’s do something useful.”

  His mother’s unflappable demeanor calmed Alex, and while the panic didn’t leave him, he was able to tamp it down to a manageable
state. He drew a deep breath, and his brain began to work again.

  A maid hurried into the room and stopped abruptly, her face going pale at the sight of the group. “S-sir?” She looked from Alex to the duchess. “Ma’am?”

  “Where is she?” Alex barked. The guilty look in the girl’s eyes hinted at some secret knowledge, and Alex was convinced of it when she didn’t offer any answer, just swallowed and cast a desperate glance toward Con. “Did they pay you off to get inside and take her?”

  “No!” The maid gasped. “Who? I never—I never meant... I didn’t know it was wrong...” The girl ended on a wail and began to cry.

  Alex cursed, fighting the urge to grab the girl by the shoulders and shake her. Con went to the maid, his voice soothing and low. “Of course you didn’t mean anything wrong, Milly. We aren’t angry.” The maid cast an uncertain glance at Alex, but Con took her hand, drawing her attention back to him, as he smiled down into her face. “Just tell us what happened.”

  “She asked me to. I didn’t know it was bad!”

  “Sabrina?” Alex stared. “She asked you—”

  Con shot him a dark look and turned back to the maid. “Now, Milly, what did Miss Blair ask you to do?”

  “She wanted my cap and...and one of my dresses.”

  “The maid!” Alex straightened. “The devil! I didn’t even glance at her.”

  “What? Who?” Lilah and Con said at the same time.

  “A maid was walking past the house while we were watching the carriage,” the duchess said. “I registered the clothes and didn’t really look at her. How terrible of me, to dismiss her because she dressed like a servant.” She frowned.

  “Let’s worry about your social conscience later, Mother,” Alex said drily. “Right now, we have to get Sabrina back. Milly, did she say anything else? Where she was going? Why she wanted your clothes?”