by Monica Burns
“No,” Jane shook her head. “I told him that if he were willing to submit to me, he’d be waiting for me a week from tonight.”
“Do you think he’ll come?” There was a guarded note in Angélique’s voice that made a smile of irony curve Jane’s mouth.
“I don’t know, but while I didn’t state it outright, I’m sure he knows I’ll not see him again if he doesn’t return.”
It was a chilling thought. She hadn’t realized it until now, but if Tobias didn’t come next week, it could jeopardize everything. She’d already taken a great risk even agreeing to let Tobias serve her, but what had happened between them tonight could change her life completely if he didn’t return next week. Jane swallowed hard as Angélique patted her hand in a gesture of confidence. Gently, the Frenchwoman nudged Jane’s shoulder with her own and smiled.
“Then we will think positively,” Angélique said in a firm, matter-of-fact voice. “It is a good sign that he even discussed the possibility of submission with you, ma petite. He has never done so with any of the Ladies he has been with in the club.”
“And if he doesn’t come?” Jane looked at the Frenchwoman with a mixture of fear and worry.
“That is for us to consider then. The future is yet undecided, and until then, we will not think of it.”
Chapter 8
Tobias leaned back in his chair and stared at the paperwork in front of him. It had taken him most of the week, but he’d finally narrowed down Angélique’s list of possible traitors to three names. The most obvious suspect was Ashcroft. Tobias knew he was biased where the Viscount was concerned, but he couldn’t help believing the man was guilty.
More than a year ago, Ashcroft had arrived intoxicated at La Maison des Plaisirs Sombres and become belligerent with another club member. Tobias had brought the altercation to a quick end, but the viscount had been livid at the interference and taken a swing at him.
Tobias had promptly dropped the nobleman to the floor, and Ashcroft had hated him ever since. It wasn’t just their mutual distaste for each other that strengthened Tobias’ suspicions. Until just little more than a week ago, Ashcroft had been deep in debt before he became flush in the pocket and had paid off all of his creditors. So far, Tobias had been unable to ascertain from where the man’s funds had come.
While the Viscount’s possible motives made him the prime suspect, experience had taught Tobias to eliminate every possible suspect before reaching a final conclusion. Fingers drumming on the oak side arm of his swivel chair, Tobias’ gaze drifted to a folder next to his investigative notes on Ashcroft.
Malcom Turner’s murder trial was less than two months away, and while the man was far from a likeable character, Tobias truly believed in the man’s innocence. Eyes closed, he leaned back in his chair and released a loud sigh. It was one thing telling Sir Arthur Hughes that their client was innocent. It was another matter altogether giving the old barrister enough evidence to prove it in a court of law. One hand rubbing the throbbing vein in his temple, Tobias looked at the papers strewn across his desk once more.
A soft chime from the wall clock sounded the hour, and he pulled out his pocket watch to verify the time. Six o’clock. He was due at Culverstone House at eight. With a grunt, he turned off the oil lamp on his desk then lurched out of his chair. The wood floor creaked noisily beneath his feet as he crossed the room to the coat rack. In a slow motion, he rolled his head in an effort to loosen the muscles in his neck.
Christ almighty. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been wound so tightly. Tobias grimaced with self-recrimination as he yanked his coat off the tall wooden rack. The last time? From the moment he’d first set eyes on Mystère almost two weeks ago, he’d been like a stallion champing at the bit. Following the woman into that damned room at La Maison des Plaisirs Sombres had taken him to the brink of submission. No Lady had ever done that to him before.
“Fuck,” he muttered as he shrugged into his coat. “She’s dangerous. And you’re in enough trouble as it is, Lynsted.”
If only his body would listen to that warning. The inner office doorknob was chilly beneath his hand. The contrast between the cool metal and the fire slugging its way through his veins did not go unnoticed by him. The door swinging open, he reached up and turned off the gaslight on the wall.
As he stepped into the foyer of the small suite of offices rented out to him and three others, Tobias locked his office behind him. Soft, shadowy light from two of the smaller offices spilled its way through the glass windows of each door indicating others were working late like him. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of movement and turned quickly to confront the danger.
The tension flooding his limbs drained out of him at the sight of a small rat scurrying its way back into a hole in the wall. He shook his head at the false alarm. Being aware of his surroundings was necessary when working in the East End. He’d made enemies over the last few years, and he’d learned to be prepared for any threat. Tobias snorted with anger.
“You weren’t prepared for the snake hiding inside the walls of La Maison des Plaisirs Sombres.” He shook his head in self-disgust. “And Culverstone caught you by the balls without you even seeing it coming.”
The observations made his stride fierce with anger as he crossed the wood planked floor to the office suite’s front door. Tobias violently pulled out his skeleton key to the outer door and jammed it into the lock. Locking the front door after dark was a precaution every occupant in the suite took to keep their offices and persons as safe as possible.
As he stepped out into the street and locked the door behind him, he grimaced at the stench filling his nostrils. Somewhere in the dark recesses of a nearby alley, the rotting remains of an undeterminable substance spilled its rancid breath into the street. The sun had set an hour ago, and the crowd on the street had quickly changed from that of the working class to a far more disreputable one.
Loud laughter echoed noisily out into the fall night air from a nearby tavern. Across the street from him a small group of lightskirts openly displayed their wares across the street. Tobias ignored their loud invitations and strode quickly down the street toward one of the intersections where he could hail a hansom cab. He’d stayed later at the office than he’d planned. If he wasn’t quick about it he’d be late for dinner at Culverstone House.
It had been almost three weeks since he and Jane had reached an amicable agreement regarding their upcoming marriage. As Culverstone had demanded, Tobias had called on Jane daily and had been her escort almost every evening to foster the appearance of a courtship. It had impacted his business dealings far more than he liked.
The only thing that had enabled him to patiently endure one evening social after another was Jane herself. In a relatively short time, he’d become quite fond of her. Quiet and reserved, she’d demonstrated a logical mindset that challenged his own thoughts and observations. She’d grasped the basics of his work and had provided him with a different perspective with which to consider Turner’s case and two others. She would make a fine wife for a solicitor.
On numerous occasions, she displayed a mischievous, dry humor that contradicted her restrained manner. He was certain her subdued demeanor was the result of living under the Earl’s autocratic rule. Still, she possessed a quiet feminine strength that always assuaged his tension whenever he was near her. Tobias frowned. Not only did her calm serenity soothe him, far too often she had the ability to arouse the dark beast inside him.
“Christ almighty, Lynsted,” he muttered with vehemence as he walked past a man sitting inside the doorway of a building. “What the fuck possessed you to ask for one night in Jane’s bed?”
The answer was simple. Lust had prevented him from thinking straight. The strength he’d seen in her had fired his imagination to possibilities he should have known better than to even consider. He knew damn good and well it was impossible to expect his future wife to indulge him when it came to his dark needs. It was why he was finding it s
o damned difficult to resist Mystère, and what she had to offer him.
Not even in the despondent shadows of the East End had he ever found the resolution to a problem so elusive or difficult. If Mystère had been any other Lady, her demand for his submission would have been easy to ignore. He would have easily walked away with his base needs addressed, but his secrets intact. But something about Mystère tugged at him.
The power she’d wielded over him in just one hour of privacy had created an insatiable need for more. It was a thirst he didn’t dare expect Jane to satisfy. It also highlighted the dilemma he faced regarding his forthcoming marriage.
Jane and he might have agreed to lead separate lives once they were married, but even the hint of a scandal would humiliate her. He liked Jane too much to thrust her into the jaws of a society eager to devour its victim with vicious gossip. Someone had betrayed him to Culverstone, and that traitor was still a threat despite the earl’s blithe reassurances. Culverstone knew nothing about people. The bastard barked out orders, and his title forced people to obey his commands. The earl would never even consider the idea that someone might go against his dictates.
Tobias’ world was a different one altogether. Once someone found their victim’s weak spot they exploited it. Until he found the traitor, Tobias and every other member of the club was at risk. Worse, when the earl had blackmailed Tobias into marrying Jane, the nobleman had failed to take into account the world Tobias worked in every day. The minute Jane became his wife, she became just as vulnerable as he. That was something he knew Culverstone hadn’t considered when he’d blackmailed Tobias.
He frowned. It was bad enough Jane was already at risk from the dangers of the world he worked in every day. The men he worked to bring to justice wouldn’t hesitate to use Jane as a way to strike out at him. It was a sobering thought. He needed to caution her to always be aware of her surroundings. The idea of something happening to her made Tobias’ stomach knot with dread.
“You’re a fool, Lynsted. You should have laughed in Culverstone’s face and let the chips fall where they may,” Tobias growled in self-contempt. “You could have survived the scandal, and your friends sure as hell wouldn’t have deserted you.”
A sudden yearning to see his mentor, and the house he’d spent many happy years in, swept through him. Last week, he’d sent word to John and his other childhood friends about his upcoming nuptials. All of them, except Samuel, had responded with enthusiasm. His friend had obviously read the resignation running through the lines of Tobias’ letter. Although Samuel hadn’t stated the obvious, he’d subtly inquired as to whether Jane was privy to all of Tobias’ secrets.
From the first moment they’d met, Tobias and Samuel had been the best of friends. John had often said they were more like brothers separated at birth. It was an accurate observation. Tobias and Samuel were like brothers, and their friendship over the years had deepened their bond. Other than his mentor, Samuel was the only other person alive who knew his darkest secret. The two of them had even discovered the forbidden world of submitting to a woman on the same night.
A week after they’d both finished their apprenticeships, they’d gone out celebrating. Their drinking and carousing had led them to Madame Solange’s. He didn’t know whether the brothel madam had recognized his and Samuel’s sexual need for something more than the usual bed play, but she’d attended to them personally. Solange had shown first him, and then Samuel, the pleasure one could find at the hand of a strong woman.
The experience had changed them both, and their membership in a forbidden world of pleasure had cemented their friendship. It was why he understood his friend’s query as to whether Jane knew of Tobias’ carnal need for something more in the bedroom. Samuel was attempting to warn him as to the dangers marriage could bring. It was an unnecessary admonition on his friend’s part. Tobias was acutely aware of the slippery slope he was on thanks to Culverstone’s blackmailing scheme.
The piercing sound of a woman’s scream drew Tobias up short. Another cry echoed out of the dark alley on his left. Without thinking twice, he sprinted forward into the dim light of the narrow back street. The fetid smell of the alley assaulted his nostrils as his eyes adjusted to the reduced lighting. A sharp crack of a hand against flesh tugged Tobias’ gaze to the shadowy figures several yards away from the alley’s entrance.
Cold anger surged through him as he saw the man strike the woman again. It was a scene he’d witnessed far too many times before. The old rage seething inside him, Tobias raced forward and slammed his body into the bigger man. The man landed on the backstreet’s slimy cobblestone with a loud grunt of surprise and cushioned Tobias’ downward tumble.
Free of her attacker’s grip, the woman staggered away to cower against a brick wall. Tobias rolled away from the man and scrambled to his feet. In the shadows of the alleyway, he saw anger flash across the man’s beefy features. As the man came up off the ground in a flash of movement, Tobias noted that despite the man’s girth, his opponent was quick on his feet.
“What the ’ell! Who do ye think ye are putting yer nose in me business?” the man snarled.
“I don’t like it when a man hits a woman,” Tobias said in a quiet voice.
“Molly’s me wife, and I’ll do what I like with ’er.”
The moment the man uttered the woman’s name, Tobias shot a glance toward the slumped figure against the wall and recognized the woman as one of his informants. Damnation. So this was Ned Hopkins. On more than one occasion, Tobias had seen Molly sporting a bruise here and there, but she’d always brushed it off as having slipped or fallen. It was a story he’d heard as far back as his childhood. He narrowed his gaze at the man.
“That’s just it, Hopkins,” Tobias said as he shook his head in disgust. “She isn’t your property.”
“Here now, how do yer know my name?” The other man eyed him with suspicion.
“It doesn’t matter how I know your name, but it does matter that you think this lady is fair game for your fists.”
“Lady,” the man snorted with laughter. “Molly ain’t no lady, and a good thrashing ain’t never hurt her none. Keeps ’er in line, it does.”
“Only a coward would hit a woman.”
Tobias’ anger simmered beneath a steely layer of control. He’d dealt with men of Hopkins’ sort before, and he despised them. He eyed the man coldly as Hopkins’ mouth tried to form words before the man snarled in anger.
“I don’t need no fancy gent telling me what to do. I can do what I like when it comes to Molly.”
“Then we obviously have a problem.”
“The only problem I see is you,” Hopkins growled.
With lightning speed, the man lunged forward and swung his left hand toward Tobias’ face. Tobias ducked beneath the man’s arm, barely avoiding Hopkins’ massive fist crashing into his jaw. At his opponent’s side, Tobias landed three quick punches to the other man’s kidney area. Hopkins wheeled around, and Tobias jumped back to take a defensive stance with his fists raised. A sneer curled the other man’s thin mouth.
“Ye think ye can beat me?”
“I’ve taken down larger men.” Tobias eyed Hopkins carefully. The man was no bigger than the bruisers he encountered while working a case, and he knew it wouldn’t be easy to take this bastard down. But he’d take the man down nevertheless.
“Sure ye ’ave.”
Hopkins uttered a jeering laugh as he leaped forward and swung hard at Tobias’ head. The man moved fast, and before Tobias could react, Hopkins’ fist landed squarely on the side of Tobias’ head. His ear ringing from the blow, Tobias sluggishly dodged the second swing of the other man’s fist. A loud guffaw escaped Hopkins’ mouth.
“Ain’t that just like a fancy gent,” Hopkins gloated. “All talk an’ no ballocks.”
“I’m not quite the fancy gent you think I am,” Tobias snapped.
Irritated that he’d allowed Hopkins’ words to make a tiny crack in his icy control, Tobias grimaced. He neede
d to curb his anger and remain level headed. Anything less threatened his ability to drop Hopkins like a rock. He danced forward and brought his right fist up under the other man’s jaw.
The force of the blow made the large man’s head jerked back. The moment he recovered, Hopkins roared with anger and lunged forward with his fists flying toward Tobias’ head. They found nothing but air as Tobias darted to one side. When the man passed him, Tobias landed two more punches to the man’s kidneys. One hand now pressed to his side, Hopkins whirled around to face him.
“Ye think yer something, don’t ye? Well ye ain’t. Ye’r a guttersnipe and not fit to be called a man.”
Dark, violent memories erupted in his head at Hopkins’ words. They pressed a hot wave of fury against his granite-like control until his jaw ached from the effort it took to keep his rage under lock and key. Tobias narrowed his gaze at the other man as he struggled to hold onto cold reason. To lose control meant he could easily make a mistake.
“Bigger men than you have underestimated me, Hopkins,” he said grimly with a shake of his head. Whether it was in disagreement or a simple attempt to keep his anger in check Tobias didn’t know or care.
As they faced each other Hopkins glared at Tobias before the larger man launched himself forward. Despite his opponent’s speed of attack, Tobias was ready for the assault. Hopkins landed a heavy blow to Tobias’ chin, but Tobias leaped to one side and slammed his fist into the other man’s eye. A wild flurry of punches later left both men gasping for air.
“When I’m finished with ye, boy, yer gonna be running home with yer tail between yer legs.”
Hopkins’ goading weakened Tobias’ steely control until there was only a thin layer between reason and the explosion of rage ready to erupt out of him. Desperately, he struggled to suppress the fury building inside him. Losing control meant surrender, and not since childhood had Tobias allowed himself to yield to anyone. Tobias’ struggle to maintain his reason cost him dearly as Hopkins threw himself forward.