Seven Nights in a Rogue's Bed

by Anna Campbell

  The door swung open and Mrs. Bevan stumped into the library. “ ’Ee has a caller, maister.”

  With a snap, Merrick shut the book he held. “I said nobody was to be admitted this week, Mrs. Bevan.”

  The woman didn’t budge. “I bain’t aboot to bid the Duke of Sedgemoor back on his pony.”

  Sidonie watched a strange expression flicker across Jonas’s face. Not gratification but not precisely hostility either. “Where is His Grace?”

  “Kicking his heels in the hall but he doon’t look the patient type.”

  A grim smile flicked up the corners of Merrick’s lips. “He’s not.”

  Sidonie surged to her feet, horror and humiliation colliding in her belly. She and Merrick had been so isolated, she’d almost forgotten that she risked disgrace being here, not just for herself but for her whole family. “He can’t know I’m here.”

  With a decisive gesture, Merrick slid the book back onto the shelf. “Hide on the balcony. I’ll get rid of him as soon as I can.”

  As Sidonie skittered up the narrow, winding stairs to the mezzanine, Mrs. Bevan left to fetch the duke. Sidonie hardly had a chance to huddle against the balcony floor before she heard the door open again.

  “Your Grace,” Merrick said coldly. Something in his voice made the hairs stand up on Sidonie’s nape. He sounded like the man who had taunted her upon her arrival.

  “Merrick,” a deep voice replied in a neutral tone.

  A barbed pause ensued. Curious, Sidonie slid forward to peep over the edge. From this angle, she had a clear view of Merrick’s face. He was in one of his inscrutable humors, his expression set and the scars standing out vividly. All she saw of the other man was ruler-straight, raven hair and an impressive set of shoulders in a dark blue coat.

  “To what do I owe the pleasure?” Merrick sounded like he lied about “pleasure.”

  “I was passing.”

  Merrick didn’t dignify that answer with a response. Castle Craven wasn’t on the way to anywhere. Sidonie knew that was why he’d chosen it for his assignation with Roberta. “I didn’t hear a carriage.”

  “I rode up from Sidmouth. My sister Lydia has settled on an estate outside the town with her new husband.”

  The duke shifted and at last Sidonie saw his face. She muffled a gasp of admiration. He was breathtakingly handsome, with chiseled features, like a hero from a legend. His outer perfection threw Merrick’s disheveled ugliness into stark relief. The two men were of similar height and age but there any likeness disappeared.

  “So you decided to look up a fellow you haven’t had a private conversation with in over twenty years?”

  “Richard suggested I come.”

  “Oh, well, that explains it.”

  After the sarcastic rejoinder, another of those electric silences descended. Sidonie couldn’t define the relationship between the two men. It was more complex than mere dislike or a meeting between incompatible acquaintances.

  “Devil take your overweening pride, Merrick. I’d have left you to rot, but Richard insisted that I warn you about Hillbrook’s threats.”

  This time Sidonie’s soft gasp of dismay was clearly audible. Dear Lord, what on earth was wrong with her? Her heart thudding triple time, she cowered against the balcony floor. She prayed she’d ducked before the duke caught sight of her.

  “What the deuce was that?” the duke asked sharply. She couldn’t see whether he glanced up at her hiding place. “Have you got a woman here, Merrick? Is that the reason for sequestering yourself in this damned inaccessible ruin? When I went to your offices, it took forever to wheedle your whereabouts out of your head clerk.”

  “No woman worth her salt would endure Devon in November.” Jonas sounded careless. Sidonie hoped his tone proved more convincing to the duke than to her. “Your imagination plays tricks on you, old man. Mice infest these old houses. Any rustles or bumps are purely down to rodents in the wainscoting.”

  The duke’s lack of response indicated skepticism. Sidonie’s heart raced at a dizzying speed as she waited for him to inquire further. Although surely that would be a breach of manners for the famous Duke of Sedgemoor. Even she, in her isolation, had heard His Grace was a paragon of decorum and virtue. He seemed an unlikely associate for the disreputable Jonas Merrick. But they must share some link of amity or commerce or why else was the duke here?

  Merrick’s voice developed an edge of impatience. “What’s William saying?”

  “He’s threatening you with death and ruin, claiming he’ll report you for sharp practices over that lunatic emerald scheme. He loathes you.”

  “That’s hardly news.”

  “Are you saying you didn’t bend the rules in dismantling the company?”

  “Nothing likely to bring the law down on my head. Did I have a word in certain ears about the mines? Perhaps. But the enterprise was doomed to founder well before I shot holes in it.”

  Panic jammed in Sidonie’s throat, choking her. Was William even now taking his frustrations out on his defenseless wife? She’d never been able to save Roberta from William’s violence before, often as she’d tried, but it was torture to be so far away and not know what was happening to her sister.

  “You’re a dashed cold fish, Merrick.” Sidonie raised her head in time to see the duke’s expression harden into disdain. At least his attention was now on Merrick and not on any possible eavesdroppers. “I knew coming here was a waste of time. I’ve delivered the warning as I promised Richard. I’ll see myself out.”

  Merrick sighed audibly. The belligerence seeped from his stance and he gestured to a chair. “Sit down, for God’s sake, and take a glass before you go. It will be dark by the time you’re back in civilization.”

  “Don’t inconvenience yourself.” But the duke subsided into one of the leather chairs and watched with a discontented air as Merrick filled two glasses from the decanter.

  “Your health,” Merrick said drily, raising his brandy to his guest and leaning with apparent indolence against the massive desk.

  “Your continuing health is the reason I’m here,” His Grace said after a sip.

  “My cousin has never hidden his wish to expunge the bastard filth from the family escutcheon.”

  “Richard saw him at White’s last week. The man seems to be undergoing some kind of collapse.”

  “A financial one, anyway. He borrowed heavily to buy shares in the mines. My information is he has nothing left to repay his debts.”

  “He blames you for that.”

  “So he damn well should. My whole life I’ve done my best to ruin him.”

  “Which is no more than he deserves, whatever opinion I harbor of your methods.” The Duke paused. “I can’t help feeling sorry for Hillbrook’s wife and children, though. They haven’t wronged you.”

  Jonas shrugged. “It can’t be helped. At least they won’t starve on the streets like many another who made the mistake of investing in William’s ramshackle projects.”

  Sidonie’s hands tightened into fists. How could he speak so heartlessly of Roberta’s sufferings and the fate of her children? After all, much as Jonas might hate William, Roberta’s sons were blood kin to him. This afternoon he’d spoken with more compassion about Greek villagers who were strangers. The impulse to tell Merrick of his birth receded under a wave of sick anger. He sounded so smug as he spoke of William’s ruin and Roberta’s looming destitution.

  “You mightn’t be quite so sanguine if you heard the man.”

  “He’s sworn to destroy me before.” Merrick took an unhurried sip of brandy. “And as you see, often as he’s tried, I’m still here.”

  “Richard seemed to think he was close enough to complete breakdown that the threat was worth heeding.”

  Dread oozed down Sidonie’s spine. Dear God, let Roberta be all right. At least the boys were in school and out of their father’s immediate reach.

  “You and Richard might have saved my bacon in the past. It doesn’t mean that as a result you owe me a
lifetime’s protection.”

  “I came here in good faith.” His Grace passed Jonas his empty glass.

  Merrick straightened in obvious dismissal of his guest. “And I assert my right to disregard your warning. I appreciate your concern, but I can protect myself against William’s pathetic plots.”

  The duke rose and surveyed Merrick with frustration. “God forbid the great isolated monument to his own self-importance, Jonas Merrick, should accept aid.”

  A strange expression that might almost be shame or remorse flickered over Merrick’s face. Yet again Sidonie realized that, despite the confidences she’d forced out of him over the last days, she understood very little about her mercurial host. “Through bitter experience, I’ve learned that I’m better fighting my own battles.”

  “Not always.”

  A silence fell, heavy with unspoken words that Sidonie could only guess at. “No, not always. But at least now if I fail, I go down alone.”

  To Sidonie’s surprise, a short laugh escaped the duke. “Well, you’ve always been ready to beat your own path to hell. Who am I to offer you a rope to climb out of the pit you’ve dug yourself?”

  “A damned presumptuous busybody,” Jonas said without a trace of warmth to rob the insult of its sting. “Does it look as if William is taking his anger out on his wife?”

  Furious denial made Sidonie clench her fists against the tiles. Surely Merrick wouldn’t make her family’s humiliations public. The duke looked surprised. “I didn’t know he did.”

  Merrick shook his head. “I wondered if he sought other targets, seeing I’m presently out of reach.”

  “Richard said he could only rant about you being Satan’s spawn and how he’d laid evidence with the magistrates. Apparently Hillbrook hadn’t been home in three days when they encountered one another. He seemed to be hitting the brandy hard. Richard seemed to think…”

  “Richard’s an old woman.”

  The duke’s expression hardened into hauteur. Even Sidonie’s brief observation indicated that he was a remarkably self-contained man. Despite Merrick doing his best to taunt him, he’d maintained his equilibrium. “You’re a dashed ungrateful sod, Merrick. But then you always were.”

  Merrick performed a mocking bow. “What do you want, Your Grace? Paeans of gratitude?”

  “I told Richard you’d pay us no notice. You’ve paid us no notice since Eton. My conscience is clear. You, my dear childhood companion, can go to the devil under your own auspices.” The duke turned on his heel and stalked from the room without a backward glance.

  Merrick remained where he was, staring thoughtfully at the closed door. Then he raised his head to Sidonie, unerringly finding her. “Was that edifying?”

  “No,” she said in an arctic tone, standing and negotiating the steps until she stood facing him. “You really don’t give a farthing about what William might do to Roberta, do you?”

  “Oh, I care very much what William does, bella.”

  She turned toward the door, too angry to bandy words. “I have to go to her.”

  He leaned away from the desk and caught her arm. “No, you don’t.”

  “If he’s losing his mind—and it sounds like he is—she’s in more danger than ever.”

  “Last night, Lady Hillbrook was hearty and hale and enjoying herself prodigiously at the Nash ball. With her husband nowhere in evidence, you’ll be pleased to learn.”

  Sidonie was too surprised to draw away. “How do you know?”

  Merrick looked bored, but she’d discovered he assumed that expression as a way of concealing his thoughts. “I set a man to watching her after you told me William beats her. If anything untoward happens to Roberta, I’ll know.”

  Sidonie hissed with scornful dismissal. “Don’t lie. We’re in Devon. Roberta’s in London, miles away.”

  “I have a network of couriers and carrier pigeons all over England. News takes mere hours to reach me, wherever I am. Mr. Bevan runs a complex for the birds in the east tower. I can show you if you like.”

  “Oh.” Sidonie’s anger evaporated and she sagged in his hold as her knees gave way with relief to hear Roberta was safe. Again he left her utterly bewildered. But the duke’s visit had firmed her intentions. She had no choice but to delay informing Merrick about his inheritance. She’d need the marriage lines to control William’s behavior, now he faced bankruptcy. They were her only leverage against his temper. “Why would you bother? You don’t like Roberta.”

  He shrugged. “It pleased me.”

  “So you already knew William intended to report you to the magistrates.”

  “Yes.”

  “But his behavior is erratic enough to send your friend down here.”

  Jonas’s laugh was bitter. “Sedgemoor’s not my friend.”

  “He obviously remembers you fondly if he’s willing to brave the road to Castle Craven.”

  A spark of grim amusement lit Merrick’s eyes. “We share a similar plight.” He released her and subsided into the chair the duke had vacated. He gestured to the chair’s twin at his side. “I take it you’ve never heard the gossip.”

  As she sat, Sidonie almost found it in her to smile. For a man without a legal name, he could be astonishingly lordly. “You know I don’t get out into society.”

  “Even so, you knew all the stories about me.”

  “You’re family.”

  “At Eton, Cam Rothermere, the man you saw today, Richard Harmsworth, who sent Cam on his futile mission of mercy, and I were collectively known as the bunch of bastards.”

  This didn’t make sense. “But he’s a duke.”

  “I’m the only one of the three officially declared a bastard. The other two are merely the result of questionable unions that have kept tongues wagging for years. Because their fathers acknowledged them, Cam and Richard retained their rights and privileges. Cam’s mother overflowed with such family feeling, she shared her favors equally with the late duke and his younger brother. Nobody, apparently including the duchess, knows who fathered Cam, although at least his blood is unquestionably Rothermere. It’s a complete mystery who sired Richard Harmsworth. His mother never admitted who shared her bed, but when she produced Richard sixteen months after her husband left for St. Petersburg, her adultery was revealed. The late Sir Lester Harmsworth recognized the child as his in the absence of another heir, but there’s never been much doubt that he was absent at Richard’s conception.”

  The anger she’d felt over Jonas’s indifference toward Roberta stirred anew. She surged to her feet and glared at him. “I would have thought you’d be the last person to crow over another man’s illegitimacy.”

  He shrugged without rising. “Perhaps I appreciate having such exalted company on my dunghill.”

  “That’s horrible. And mean-spirited.”

  “You sound disappointed, bella.” His tone was snide.

  She blinked away tears. She knew it wasn’t the right time to challenge him. Whatever his feelings about his old schoolfellow—she still couldn’t decide whether they were cohorts or opponents—the duke’s visit had left Merrick in a prickly humor. “I thought you were a better man.”

  He laughed without amusement. “I told you I have no scruples. Dark deeds built my empire, tesoro. If the dark deeds harmed my cousin’s prospects at the same time, all the better.”

  “I’m sure it can’t be helped,” she said sarcastically.

  “Ah.” He surveyed her out of unreadable steel gray eyes. “So that’s what’s got you all het up.”

  “I can probably blame you for each of Roberta’s bruises,” she said, not trying to spare his feelings. “The mention of your name turns William into a maddened bull.”

  If Merrick were a cat, his tail would lash in warning. “Do you hope for some expression of regret?”

  She should step away and wait until they were both calmer. But some imp pushed her to needle him. “I’d like a return of the sister I remember, not the wreck she’s become after eight years as William�
��s wife.”

  He sighed and turned to stare out the windows at the encroaching night. His tone became less confrontational. “If it’s any consolation, I suspect William would have beaten his wife, whether I’d existed as a thorn in his side or not. He’s a born bully. Even before he officially became the Hillbrook heir, he was cruel to animals and smaller children. My father banned him from the house before he was seven for torturing a tenant’s son with a branding iron.”

  Sidonie was angry enough to ask the question that had troubled her since her first night at Castle Craven. “How did you get your scars, Jonas?”

  He glanced back at her, his features a mask of inscrutability. “The results of a misspent youth. I was attacked before I knew how to defend myself from those seeking my destruction. I’ve learned better since.”

  And those defenses were well and truly raised against her right now; she knew without him having to tell her. It must be as she suspected. He’d been scarred somewhere on the Continent when he traveled with his father. “Is that all you have to say?”

  His stern expression didn’t ease. “Yes, I think it is.”

  She marched toward the door with a dismissive flick of her skirts. “Then I can only echo His Grace’s sentiments. May you and your secrets go to the devil.”

  The beautiful, mobile lips twitched as he stepped forward to open the door for her. “I’ve been the devil’s minion for years, carissima. Never deceive yourself on that count.”

  Chapter Ten

  Sidonie’s eyelids drooped with weariness by the time Merrick joined her upstairs. It was past midnight, and she still wore the blue dress she’d put on earlier. She sat up in one of the gilded chairs by the blazing fire, determined to stay awake. Never again would he catch her unawares as he had last night. She’d wanted to stay angry with him after the way he’d rebuffed her in the library but he’d been such an urbane companion over dinner, her barbs had found no purchase against his smooth facade. It was difficult to keep sniping at someone who returned no reaction to one’s resentment.