Four Times a Virgin (Irresistible Aristocrats Book 2)

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Four Times a Virgin (Irresistible Aristocrats Book 2) Page 25

by Suzi Love


  He gently pulled it away. “Jeezus.” His eyes closed, but then he hauled in a deep breath and lifted his head.

  His face was a picture of shock, horror and pity, and his agony was more than she could stand. She sobbed, breath-seizing sobs that shook her from head to toe and sent tears rolling down her cheeks. Once her emotions escaped, she couldn’t rein them in and her sobs increased, rolling on and on. Max dropped to his knees and gently pulled her towards his shoulders, tucking her into him and holding her until her weeping wound down and ended with a stream of hiccoughs and wheezes.

  She pulled away and sat back, trying to brush her wet cheeks with the backs of her hands. Though what she really wanted was to fling herself into his arms and feel them close around her and know that she was safe from any more shocks and horrors. If only she could hand over her problems to someone else, for once.

  “Here, let me.” He used his handkerchief to blot her face and dry her eyes, before dropping it onto her lap. He clearly thought she wasn’t done with her bout of self-pity, but she had to collect herself and continue with her plan.

  He pulled up a footstool and sat before her, wedged between her knees so she couldn’t escape. Max wasn’t about to let her go again, so her next decision had to be whether to reveal everything and accept his solid support when she confronted her fourth man, for she was certain that was who had attacked her at the theatre; or bluff and lie and, for the second time, give him his marching orders.

  “This time, you’ll tell me everything. The entire story, and I’m not budging from this room until I’m certain you’ve spilled every last secret. You know who attacked you, don’t you? Was it your fourth man?”

  She nodded. Despite having spent several years trying to come to terms with the treachery involved, she shook with a mixture of horror and abhorrence. “He’s a monster.”

  “I was also a monster when two evil men sent me to rob you of your innocence.” He smiled and stroked the skin of her inner arm, a soft and soothing touch. “And yet, when you’re lying under me, naked and open, you don’t call me a monster.”

  “Mmm. I’ve called you many things, but never monstrous.”

  “I know. When you climax, you call my name loudly and often, and not once have you called me a monster.”

  “Even at sixteen, I saw you as another victim and knew that any monstrous notions had been beaten into you over many years.”

  “The others were victims, and yet you’ve now met and made peace with them. All but one. You have to tell me why you’re shaking in your shoes and can’t speak about him?’’

  “Apart from him wanting me dead?” Her jest fell flat, and Max kept his steely gaze fixed on her. Inwardly writhing, she held her head high. “Fine. I first discovered his name in the Earl’s account book, but wasn’t certain what it meant. Gertie and I have spent every spare moment sifting through those boxes you’ve been giving me each week and reading your grandfather’s letters.”

  “I’ve read boxes of his letters, over and over, but couldn’t connect all those names and places and the amounts of money mentioned.”

  “None of it made sense to us either, until the last dozen letters we read yesterday.”

  “That last box was one I found by accident, and only this week, because it was hidden in a wardrobe under some gowns and shawls that must have been left by my mother. Her room was locked and the staff weren’t allowed inside.” He sighed. “I begged the housekeeper to let me see my mother’s belongings once, but Augustus held the keys and she would have been dismissed if she’d tried to let me into my mother’s room.” He shook his head. “So what was remarkable about those last letters?”

  “The same name from the Earl’s earlier account books cropped up, alongside my name.”

  He frowned. “William and I saw your name on one letter, along with your stepbrother’s, plus the mention of seven hundred pounds. But we decided that referred to years ago when you and I …” Max shuddered and closed his eyes, and she knew his agile mind had made the connection. “Oh, God, no.” He shook his head. “Tell me it’s not true.”

  She and Gertie had made the same mistake as Max originally, but they’d then held a magnifying glass over the faded date on the letter. The date hadn’t been seven years ago, but much later.

  She laid her hand on Max’s knee. “I wanted to spare you.” She moaned. “Because now, like Gertie and I, you won’t be able to wipe the idea from your mind. They planned it, all three men, together. Money was exchanged, but, fortunately for me, two of them died before they could proceed with their fourth auction for a night wit me. Gertie and I think that the last man alive has spent the last few months trying to dispose of any evidence against him, and failing that, will dispose of anyone who could testify against him. I presume he’s had us watched, and heard that you’ve been delivering boxes of papers here. He panicked and tried to kill me last night.”

  Max gasped. “I can’t believe he’d go that far. To try to kill you, and perhaps the rest of us, so he can cover his tracks.”

  “His wife is a harpy and will probably kill him herself if she learns what he’s done to cover his gambling debts. The only way to avoid exposure, and prison, is to rid himself of the family members he loathes.”

  “How can you speak of him so calmly?”

  She shrugged. “You forget that I’ve known him for a long time. He’s greedy and manipulative and has never been bothered with ethics or good behavior. The Earl, the old Duke, and my stepbrother organized the most despicable acts, probably more than we’ve uncovered. As the sole survivor, Peter would have arrogantly assumed he could continue by himself and not have to share the profits. But sadly for him, I returned to London because I wanted closure, and I wanted to see you again. Now, Peter’s only choices are to locate and destroy any incriminating papers, and do away with anyone he sees as a threat.”

  “Your own brother.”

  “Peter isn’t our blood relation, though we spent years together as family after our parents married.”

  Max had thought that Augustus’s death had freed him from people who enjoyed depravity and cruelty, and had assumed that Carina would name a peer that they only knew vaguely, and that the saga would end with him being jailed. But the cunning Earl had chosen his previous marks carefully and picked men known to overindulge in London’s entertainments: gamblers and men obsessed with very young girls.

  He steeled himself to ask, despite knowing the answer to his question. “The Earl truly knew that Peter was the fourth man and that he was buying his stepsister?’

  ‘Oh, yes. The Earl wouldn’t have turned down such a lucrative arrangement because he’d win in three separate ways. He’d punish Peter for selling him a useless wife who, despite being given to three different men, didn’t deliver an heir.”

  “Despite the Earl and his impotency being the problem.’

  ‘By his reasoning, three wives unable to bear children was the fault of women in general: that we are contrary and unaccommodating. Yet he’d been incapable of sex since contracting a disease from street whores, the only ones who’d suffer his perversions.’

  “Rather than concede that he was impotent from the pox, he punished his wives.”

  “Punished them to death. Well, except for me of course, because he died first.”

  “And the other ways in which he’d win?”

  “Gaining seven hundred pounds wasn’t to be sneezed at.” She gave a brittle laugh. “Plus, he’d settle his score with me by drugging me and handing me over to Peter, who’d relish swiving his despised half-sister. They knew that shame would drive me to the brink of despair, and to possibly to take my own life.”

  “Such a pity you’d didn’t get that chance, dear sister.” Peter stood in the doorway, a pistol in his hand. “If you’d disposed of yourself, I wouldn’t have to dirty my hands by shooting you.”

  Max leapt to his feet, but before he could move Peter raised his hand and leveled his weapon directly at Max.

  “No, no
t him!” Carina screamed. “Me, it’s me you want.” She shoved herself in front of Max, stretching against his arms when he tried to push her behind him.

  “Very touching, dear sister. If you’d shown me some of that warmth and concern years ago, we wouldn’t be standing here now.” He grinned as he waved the pistol between both of them.

  “You won’t get away with this,” Max said, easing sideways a step. He needed to distract the bastard so he aimed at him, and not Carina. “Though if you leave now, you can be halfway to the coast before we have time to alert the authorities.”

  Peter sneered. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re the ones leaving, though it won’t be for anywhere else in this world.” He chortled, a chilling sound that screamed insanity, before waving someone forward from the doorway with his free hand. “Bring them here, dearest.”

  Carina gasped when Clara, Peter’s wife, ushered Gertie and her sisters into the room and then stood beside her husband. Clara also carried a weapon and held it high for them to see. Her pistol was smaller than Peter’s and similar to the one Max had seen in Carina’s reticule, a lightweight gun made for women’s protection, though only dangerous when fired at close range.

  When Carina took a step towards her mad stepbrother, Max frantically waved her away, saying, “Stay back. Let me deal with him.”

  “No, it’s me he wants.” With her eyes on Peter’s, she pointed at herself. “I’ll go with you if you let the others leave unharmed.”

  “Sorry, but it’s much too late for that. While any of you are alive, I’d always be looking over my shoulder and wondering if one of you had been brave enough to reveal all our sordid secrets to the police.” He glanced at Georgie who was closest to him and, to Max’s eye, looked remarkably composed considering that her stepbrother spoke of shooting her. “Not you, Georgie. You’re too frightened of your own shadow to walk into a police station with your complaints.”

  Max saw Georgie stiffen and hoped she didn’t pick this moment to prove her courage. He edged another few inches towards the side table, where he could see Carina’s sewing scissors and hoping he could pick them up without Peter noticing.

  “You’re wrong as usual, Peter,” Georgie said, stepping away from her sister-in-law and facing Peter.

  Carina and Max yelled at the same time, urging Georgie to move back again, but she ignored them and stood face to face with her brother and, by doing so, put herself in the firing line for both pistols. Gertie and Lucy looked frantic, but neither could move without risking Clara firing straight at their backs.

  “Georgie, please move away,” Carina implored her sister.

  Max could hear the desperation rising in Carina’s voice and knew that one of the women was about to risk their own life by drawing fire. He held up one hand and said, “Wait. Everyone stand still.” He looked between Peter and his bitchy wife, and decided she was the easier target. “Did you know that your husband has always been obsessed with Carina? So much so that he was willing to risk everything to spend just one night with her in his bed.”

  Clara gasped, staring at her husband with fury and horror.

  Max slid the scissors off the table and into his hand, hiding them behind his back as he walked forward two steps. “Ah, so Peter didn’t tell you how he paid Carina’s late husband seven hundred pounds.”

  She swung towards Peter, eyes wide and her pistol pointing straight at his podgy stomach. “Seven hundred! You sold my diamonds because you said we had no money.”

  “Be quiet, woman. It’s none of your business how I spend my money.”

  “Those diamonds belonged to my mother. You sold my jewelry so you could…”

  She waved her hand towards Carina and Max held his breath. He hoped to God Clara wouldn’t fix her attention on Carina, though her stunned expression showed he might be able to turn her fury back towards the husband who’d cheated on her.

  “Yes,” Max said. “He sold your valuables to satisfy his long-held obsession with his stepsister. So he could have illegal sex, incest if you like, with his drugged sister.”

  “Stepsister!” Carina unwisely yelled, causing Max to turn towards her and stare her into submission.

  The damn woman would be the death of him yet. He swung back towards Peter and Clara, thinking their momentary distraction would give him the opportunity to charge at Peter with his impromptu weapon: Carina’s scissors. The loud discharge of a pistol stopped him in his tracks. Stunned, it took a few seconds to comprehend that the smaller pistol had been fired, though the target hadn’t been one of the girls, but Clara’s own husband.

  Peter stared at Clara in disbelief. He clutched his stomach and, in slow motion, crumpled to the floor. Max jumped towards Clara and, using the scissors in a wide open position, jabbed her wrist.

  The woman gave an ear shattering screech and dropped her pistol, which Max quickly snatched up and shoved into a pocket. He swiveled towards Peter, spread at his feet on the floor, and did a fast search for the second weapon, only to discover that Georgie had already swooped down and twitched the gun out of her stepbrother’s lifeless fingers.

  Georgie dropped her arm and the gun dangled beside her thigh. She clearly didn’t know how to handle a weapon and her sheet-white face showed she was fast falling victim to shock. Very carefully, Max stepped towards her, anxious to remove the dangerous piece from her fingers, but someone else had anticipated the danger and moved beside Georgie. He gently unwrapped her fingers from the trigger and slid the gun out of her fist.

  Max heaved a sigh of relief when Daniel, the man Georgie was to marry, eased the gun away and efficiently disarmed it, before securing it in his coat pocket. Max’s relief was so profound he could have married the man himself or, at the very least, hugged Daniel. In the end he didn’t need to embarrass Daniel, because Gertie and Lucy took his place and gathered both Georgie and her intended into their arms for a long hug.

  Clara had slumped to the floor beside her husband and was using the hem of her gown to staunch the flow of blood from her wrist wound. She rocked back and forth, moaning and cursing her unresponsive husband with language Max hadn’t expected her Ladyship to use, or to know. He felt Peter’s wrist, looking for a pulse, but when Carina caught his eye, he shook his head. The man was dead.

  As if the room wasn’t crowded enough, Carina’s ancient butler huffed and puffed his way to their side, clutching his chest and gasping for breath as if he’d run a mile. Max understood that the old man had run at least to the corner of the square when he saw three burly constables charge in.

  He raised his hand and silenced the chattering and squawking all around him, before succinctly describing to the constables what had occurred and asking that the ladies be allowed to recover in a separate room before they were questioned for their version of events. He’d presided, as a magistrate, over many dramatic circumstances on his estates and knew how long it would be before Peter’s body could be removed and his wife taken away to be questioned at the station.

  A footman was dispatched to summons his cousin, William, who was the best person to reveal all they’d discovered in the boxes of letters and papers. Bill could explain what he’d learned during numerous conversations over the past three years with nearly a hundred women, or their descendants. The more they’d discovered about Max’s so called sexual initiations, the deeper the quagmire, and despite his worry over the scandal that might ensue, Max had prompted William to share his findings with a mutual friend assigned to restructure the new police force.

  He was doubly grateful to his cousin at this moment, because Bill had insisted that preparations for a rendezvous, possibly involving Carina and made not long before Augustus’s death, had sinister undertones. His cousin was convinced that clandestine activities started years earlier were still proceeding, but under the control of a mysterious man who’d remained invisible.

  Thanks to William’s warnings, Max had doubled the guard around Carina’s house and had men following Peter and his wife, because Peter seemed t
he most likely person to want to harm Carina and her sisters and he held a special loathing for Gertie. Despite Daniel’s arms supporting her, Georgie looked to be wilting and Gertie to have aged another ten years. Max gave instructions for tea to be brought to the breakfast room and urged all the women, bar the soon-to-be-prisoner, out of this room and across to the hall to another where they could sit, talk and recover.

  Carina, barely meeting his eyes once, took charge of the staff and sent someone to also fetch Lucy’s admirer. He was, like Georgie’s new man, a stalwart who the girls could lean on, and who would stop Lucy’s fidgets and soothe her into amenability. And frankly, Carina needed all the support she could gather, because if her nerves had been strung tight during her earlier discussion with Max, now they were stretched to breaking.

  Four hours later, Max slumped into one of Carina’s armchairs and stared blankly at the low burning fire. Carina had thought to direct a maid to light it when rain had started outside and the temperature inside turned frigid. Peter’s body had been examined where it lay before being wrapped and carted away in an ambulance wagon. The cause of death was noted as a gunshot wound at close range above his stomach, which in turn had ruptured an artery, and bleeding had resulted in almost instantaneous death.

  Each person present had given their statement. The official verdict would read death by misadventure, the consensus being that nothing would be gained by holding a public trial for Peter’s widow, as within minutes of shooting her husband she’d retreated into some private world and was incapable of speaking. Carina has cleaned and bandaged her sister-in-law’s hand but had said little, either to the catatonic woman or to Max.

  He’d been informed that the four women from this household had all retired to their bedchambers and, after seeing that the constables and others who were milling around writing endless reports had been fed and watered, the majority of the staff had retired below stairs to recuperate. When Max had recovered enough energy to stand and walk, he discovered that a lone footman had been posted near the front door with instructions to lock the door after the last person departed.

 

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