Joss and The Countess (The Seducers Book 2)

by S. M. LaViolette

  Hugo just laughed.

  Joss stared at his ruined cravat in the mirror, momentarily annoyed he’d not let the other man tweak it. Instead, he did what he could to neaten his appearance and then took the door that led from the study—or the office, as Melissa called it—through a middling sized dining room that sometimes was used for private parties—into the receiving room.

  And also right into the middle of a rather heated conversation.

  “—and before that would ever happen you’d find your prick twisted into a knot you’d never be able to untie,” an American voice Joss recognized said.

  Hugo threw back his head and roared with perhaps the first genuine laughter Joss had ever heard.

  “Miss Finch?” Joss said, unable to keep the disbelief out of his voice.

  The older woman turned to him, her poke bonnet obscuring her face from any angle except straight on.

  She stood up from the wing chair where Hugo had seated her, and upon the back of which the other man was now leaning, his curious, sharp eyes flickering from Joss to Miss Finch and back again.

  “Mr. Gormley.” Her eyes rolled over him with the crushing weight of a mail coach. “Look at you, fine as a fivepence.”

  Hugo gave another delighted laugh. “I like her.”

  Joss looked up from the tiny woman. “Thank you, Mr. Buckingham, you may go.”

  “Actually,” Hugo said his eyes flitting between them, “I’d rather stay, if you don’t mind. If Miss Finch here is to be a new member, I’d like to be the first to offer my services.”

  “Hugo.”

  “Hmmm?” His dark eyes shifted from Miss Finch, who’d been staring up at him with an expression that should have turned him into a pillar of stone.

  “You may go, Hugo.”

  Hugo heaved a dramatic sigh. “Very well. I shall have tea sent up.” He strolled toward the door, taking his time and making sure Miss Finch had ample opportunity to see all his wares. The door closed and the woman turned to him, shaking her head.

  “It’s true, then—this is an expensive molly house—complete with man whores. Who’d have thought such a thing?”

  Joss was astounded to feel his face heating. “Please, won’t you sit?”

  She pursed her lips and lowered her tiny form into the chair she’d just vacated, her hands closed protectively over the reticule she clutched in her lap. That was how Joss knew she was not quite as comfortable as she might appear.

  “I apologize if Hugo said anything to upset you.”

  She barked a dismissive laugh. “I thought you knew me better than that, Mr. Gormley.”

  Joss just smiled.

  “I suppose you’re wondering why I’m here?”

  Among other things—like how she’d found out about the place to begin with. Had Alicia told her?

  “I found the letter Mrs. Griffin wrote to her ladyship.”

  Joss’s eyebrows shot up.

  “You needn’t give me such a snirpy look. I knew she was up to something—and I had a feeling you were part of it.” Her hands flexed restlessly on the bag in her lap. “She’s been a wreck since you left.” She cut him a sharp look. “I trust that is all sorted out now?”

  Joss opened his mouth, but then closed it. It was hardly his place to tell Alicia’s servant what they’d decided in between their lovemaking sessions.

  “Oh, don’t feel like you’re betraying a confidence. I could tell how it was when she came early this morning. She is, at long, long last, happy.”

  Joss could not keep the smile from his mouth.

  “And I know she is confident her man Shelly will find Lady Elizabeth. I daresay the two of you have made plans. I already know she means to take Miss Lizzy away from that disgusting monster.” She stopped, her chest rising and falling so violently that she had to take a moment to compose herself. “But I know something her ladyship doesn’t know—I know why Miss Lizzy might not have enough time to wait for Shelly to find her. I think you need to know the truth.” She inhaled and held it, and then gave Joss a look he’d never seen on her face: one of fury, revulsion, and despair.

  Joss’s happiness drained away. “Why are you telling me this? Why aren’t you telling her?”

  “If I tell her, she will kill him.”

  Joss slumped back in his chair. “Good God, what is it?”

  “I fear you might do likewise when I tell you.”

  They locked eyes, a sick feeling welling inside him.

  “You must give me your word that you will not kill Selwood in the course of helping Miss Lizzy. You must. If you do not, I’m afraid you are condemning that poor girl to a nightmarish future.”

  The door opened and one of the maids entered carrying a tray.

  “Thank you, Mary. You can just put it down; Miss Finch will serve.”

  The door closed behind the maid and Joss shoved both the table and tea-tray out of the way, and then leaned forward and rested his forearms on his thighs.

  “I will not kill Selwood. Now, tell me all of it. Do not hold anything back.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Alicia was in her study looking at the newest report from New York on her canal investment.

  ​She had a man who saw to her general business—she read far too slowly to be able to deal with it all herself—but the canal scheme was a pet project of hers.

  ​Right now it looked like all stumbling blocks had been removed and the project would move ahead. Not on schedule, but no more than eight months late.

  A sharp knock on the door made her look up from the spidery handwriting of her business associate in New York City. Maude entered before she could speak.

  “Please come in,” Alicia said dryly.

  Maude ignored the unsubtle dig. “This just came for you.”

  She glanced down at the handwriting and did not recognize it. When she broke the seal her eyes dropped to the bottom: Joss.

  “Darling,”

  Alicia read the word at least four times—and for once it was not because she couldn’t understand it.

  “I’m terribly sorry, but I’m afraid I have to put off our meeting tonight. I have a family crisis I must attend to. I’m not sure how long it will take, so don’t expect me tomorrow night, either. Don’t fret, Alicia, it is only a short delay. Know that I love you and will be thinking of you every moment we are not together.

  Your devoted love,

  Joss”

  “Well?”

  Alicia looked up in surprise. She’d forgotten Maude was still there.

  “Why do you have that foolish grin on your face?” She dropped her jaw and goggled with a star-struck look.

  Alicia laughed; there was nothing quite like a conversation with Maude to bring a person back to earth. Abruptly.

  “I shan’t be meeting him tonight—and maybe even tomorrow.”

  Maude grunted. “It’s all for the best.”

  Alicia had to bite her lower lip to keep her mouth shut. She’d almost immediately regretted telling the older woman her plans—but then Maude would need to understand what was going on if she were to move swiftly when word came from Mr. Shelly that he’d found Elizabeth.

  “Is everything ready if we should need to leave in a hurry? Have you gone through my dressing room and packed my trunk?”

  Maude smirked at such an obvious dismissal. “I have. Would you like to inspect the contents?”

  Alicia turned back to the desk, which was covered in papers she still needed to read. “No, I would like you to leave me alone.”

  “You will be dining in tonight?”

  “Yes. In fact, tell cook that I’ll just have something up here. I daresay I shall be here late into the night.”

  “That sounds an excellent idea.”

  The door shut behind her before Alicia could ask her what was so bloody excellent about it.

  ∞∞∞

  Joss hated leaving The White House in Hugo’s hands, but after speaking to Maude that afternoon he’d known he had little choice. He nee
ded to see Selwood now—if not yesterday.

  ​He’d warned Maude to be ready to leave on a moment’s notice. He’d also sent her with a message for Alicia, begging off seeing her tonight and tomorrow. He’d hated to lie to her, but telling her what he was going to do would only cause her pain and worry.

  ​Joss walked up the steps to the front door of Selwood House just after dark. He wasn’t surprised when Beamish informed him that the earl and countess were not at home to visitors this evening.

  Undaunted, Joss had given the old butler a message for Lord Selwood and had gone around back to wait by the servant entrance.

  Lord Selwood kept him waiting until ten-thirty before he sent his messenger.

  Joss saw Annie before she saw him. She poked her head out the servants’ door and squinted into the dark alley that ran back to the mews.

  Joss stepped out of the shadows and Annie started.

  “Well,” she said, after giving him the once over, “Look at you.”

  He could have said the same thing. Annie looked as if she’d aged five years in the few weeks since he’d last seen her.

  “How do you like working here, Annie?”

  She snorted. “Well enough, not that I had any choice.”

  “I heard you were caught stealing—you’re lucky you aren’t in jail.”

  She propped her fists on her hips and glared up at him. “And who might you have heard that from? That old cat who wanted her job back, I’ll wager.” She gave him a scathing look, her sharp eyes cataloguing his clothing. “And you—back working for her, are you?”

  “Did Lord Selwood send you to fetch me?”

  “I certainly wouldn’t come looking for you otherwise.”

  “Then perhaps you should take me to him, Annie,” he reminded her gently.

  She turned on her heel and Joss followed. It was late and the kitchen was empty but for a pair of young scullery maids sleeping in front of the massive stone hearth.

  Annie turned to Joss as she led him up the servant stairs.

  “You know that old witch got me dismissed without even a recommendation.”

  “You ended up here quickly enough. Don’t try and say you weren’t taking money from Selwood to spy, Annie.”

  “Oh, Mr. High-and-Mighty—like you’ve never done anything wrong.” Her eyes narrowed to slits. “You’re a whore.”

  If she thought the accusation would hurt him, she was even more naïve than he’d believed.

  “That is true, Annie.”

  She deflated before his eyes. “I’m sorry for sayin’ that, Joss, I am.” She launched herself at him, almost setting them both on fire when she forgot she was still holding a candlestick.

  Joss took it from her tightly clenched fingers and set it on the step above before taking her in his arms.

  She cried so hard he worried somebody would hear her. But nobody came and Joss let her weep until only small sniffles were left.

  He gave her back a last stroke and then set her at arms’ length.

  “Oh, don’t, I must look a fright.”

  Surprisingly, she didn’t. Annie was that rare woman whose looks were enhanced by tears.

  “You know this house is not a good place for you.”

  The look she gave him told him plenty.

  “Has he tampered with you, Annie?”

  She shrugged, her eyes hopeless. “Oh, what does it matter? He’s not the first—although I think I’ll tell him it’s his baby I’m carrying.”

  “Oh, Annie.”

  “You needn’t worry,” she snapped, “we both know it’s not yours.” She spun around, striding ahead of him.

  She opened a door and gestured him into a library. The Earl of Selwood was sitting behind his massive desk.

  “Thank you, Annie.” The earl didn’t stand, but watched Joss with a wide grin, his eyes glittering with amusement. “You may leave us.”

  Joss felt, rather than saw, Annie hesitate beside him.

  “That will be all, Annie.” This time the earl was not smiling and the door immediately clicked shut.

  Selwood lounged back in his chair. “What a surprise to see you, Gormley.” His brow wrinkled. “Were you here to apply for the groom position?”

  Joss ignored the feint. “I think you know why I’m here, Selwood.”

  “That would be my lord to the likes of you.” All traces of humor were gone.

  Joss merely looked at him.

  “It would seem your association with my dear step mamma has given you an inflated notion of yourself.”

  “I know what you’ve done to your sister.” Joss could see the other man was far too interested in playing a game of cat and mouse and the last thing he wanted to do was give the earl what he wanted: the pleasure of tormenting him.

  Selwood’s eyebrows shot up and he steepled his fingers, resting his elbows on the arms of his chair. He cocked his head. “Oh, and what is that, pray?”

  “Do you really want me to say the words out loud?”

  Selwood gave an insouciant shrug. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

  Joss made no attempt to hide the loathing he felt. “She’s your sister. How could you rape anyone, not to mention a crippled young girl in your care? Your own flesh and blood? Your—”

  Selwood waved a negligent hand but his facial muscles had gone taut. “Oh please, save your drama for those who would believe such lies.”

  “Release her into the care of her stepmother and I will not expose you for the monster you are.”

  The earl laughed. “Do you really think anyone would take your word over mine?”

  “I think enough people would pay attention that your credit in society would suffer.” He hesitated, and then decided to set the hook deeper. “And Alicia has told me how much your reputation matters to you. She, on the other hand, has no interest in politics or the ton. She also possesses enough money that she doesn’t need to care. She tells me that you are not nearly so downy. In fact—”

  Selwood lunged to his feet and gripped the edges of his desk. “You dare to threaten your betters.”

  Joss snorted, “If you are my better, then I am grateful to occupy the position I do.”

  For a moment, Joss thought the earl might come for him. But his expression shifted in a heartbeat, going from condescending to amused.

  “Oh, and what position is that? Between Alicia’s thighs?” He gave an ugly laugh. “Trust me, lad, I’ve occupied that position—and a good number of others—far more often than you can imagine.”

  Joss had warned himself he would have to deal with this and more.

  “The difference between you and me, Selwood—well, at least one of the differences—is that I don’t force myself on women. Now, tell me where your sister is being held or I’ll have to employ a bit of persuasion.”

  Selwood laughed, but Joss saw a flicker of worry in his eyes.

  He should worry because Joss could inflict a lot of damage before anyone could answer the earl’s summons.

  “It wouldn’t do any good if I did tell you. You’d need a battering ram to get to her without my approval.”

  “You just leave that to me, my lord. Now, I’ll have the name.”

  “Just what do you and that American slut—”

  Joss hadn’t even realized what he was doing until his fist connected with Selwood’s jaw. It all happened in slow motion: the sound of teeth clicking, the grinding thud of bone striking bone, and Selwood’s body slamming into a table full of decanters behind him.

  The sound of crystal shattering was deafening.

  Joss leaned down and picked Selwood up by the throat, shoving him against the wall, and not caring when Selwood’s shoulder went through the portrait of some long dead ancestor.

  He held the earl with one hand, pinning him by the neck. “Where?”

  “Sod. Off.”

  Joss backhanded him so hard he worried he might have knocked him out. But, no, his eyelids fluttered open.

  “Next time you sh
an’t get the back of my hand,” Joss warned. He squeezed Selwood’s throat, horrified by how rewarding the sensation was.

  The earl wheezed out a word but Joss couldn’t understand. He leaned closer. “Come again?”

  “Bethlem.”

  Joss reeled back as if struck. “You bloody, fucking animal—your own sister, in that place.”

  Selwood cracked a gruesome smile, blood covering his teeth and dripping from the corner of his mouth. “You’ll never get her out.”

  Joss struck him once in the solar plexus, driving him to his knees. “That is for Alicia,” Joss snarled. “And this,” he drew back his foot and released all his pent-up rage. “This is for your sister.” His boot caught Selwood square in the chest and knocked him back a good three feet.

  Behind him the door flew open and Joss heard the trampling of several sets of feet.

  “My lord?” Beamish dropped into a crouch beside his master. “Are you hurt?”

  Selwood was motionless, a thin trickle of blood running from the corner of his mouth.

  The butler sucked in a horrified breath. “I—I think you’ve killed him.”

  “I doubt we shall all be so lucky.”

  Selwood made a gasping, coughing sound and Joss turned on his heel and strode toward the door, where two men stood, one in the livery of a footman, the other wearing the rougher clothing of a groom.

  “Escort Mr. Gormley off the property,” Beamish called out behind him.

  Neither man looked willing to lay hands on him, but they certainly stayed close enough, and seemed intent on frog-marching him all the way out to the street—through the guest entrance this time.

  He ignored the footman and turned to the groom. “Thank you. I can find my way from here.”

  The man crossed his arms. “We’ll just watch and see you do.”

  Joss headed across the square.

  “And don’t come back, if you know what’s good for you,” the footman called after him.

  Joss just laughed.

  ∞∞∞

  Joss met Alicia’s investigator in a dirty inn on Lambeth Road that some enterprising wag had named The Laughing Lunatic.

  He could spot Mr. Shelly easily by Miss Finch’s colorful description: a dried-up stick of a man no bigger than a minute.