The Rakehell Regency Romance Collection #4

by MacMurrough, Sorcha

  She said as much to Philip when he tried to argue, "But Althea, you'll never be able to pull it off. Even if I were to agree to you trying to do anything so desperate, this is madness. It would be tantamount to suicide! I love my cousin, but I would never forgive myself if her rescue meant you destroying your own life and even that of your unborn child."

  She gazed at him levelly, not backing down one iota. "I'm not the naive virgin I was when they took me. I'm a wife, married now. I've learned things from Eswara and her son which have given me power I never had before.

  "And even more than power, I have an unshakeable confidence that I can defeat these men. Can vanquish them on my own terms as they tried to vanquish me. Turn their weakness against them. If we catch them red-handed with the girl, they will hang. Then everyone will be safe."

  "It's the red-handed part that has me sick with foreboding. Have you any idea--"

  "I think I do," she said coolly, meeting his gaze with such steadiness that Philip actually blushed, something he had thought himself incapable of after all his years in prison and as a debauched man of the world.

  "And the rest you're going to teach me. Tell me about your experiences as a quean, the kinds of things women liked you to do to them. Something that's also a male fantasy, that will make my offer irresistible. And you need to tell me about women and women too. I need to--"

  He shook his head and groaned in exasperation. "Matthew's never going to forgive me for this in a hundred years. And if I tell you, you probably never will either."

  She shrugged one shoulder. "Just look at it as an expansion of my education. I was so sheltered, privileged, smug. I would probably have lived my life as a pampered and bored little wife, content with a husband who spoke to me twice a day and took his conjugal ease upon me once a month if I was lucky.

  "Now I have passion, love, and a new way of looking at the world, which, if not precisely comfortable and easy, is nevertheless almost all I could wish for. The only thing lacking is the sense of closure. Of making sure that the men who did this to me pay for their crimes. No one will be safe else.

  "I don't know how many girls have vanished in Enfield and the surrounding villages in the past five years or so, ever since my step-brother came to live there. All I do know is that there have been several, and that's far too many to my way of thinking. I won't even talk about the number of ruined serving maids in the area."

  Her eyes were shining brightly, and her breath rasped in her throat.

  Philip looked at her, his dark sherry-brown eyes smouldering with hidden fury. "Maybe you should talk about it," he suggested. "All of it. And when you've told me, you might consider telling Matthew the parts you think he can bear. Otherwise not."

  Now it was her turn to blush.

  "He is a sensitive soul, is our Matthew, for all he's been a rake for so long. I would have given anything for love and intimacy. Other men flee from it as if from the plague. I'm so glad to see Matthew's found it with you. But sometimes honesty with him can be too much of a good thing."

  She met his eye candidly and gave a tight smile. "Then I shall never tell him what you've told me, if you don't tell him what I'm about to tell you."

  He put his hand over his heart. "Word of honour."

  "All right. You first."

  He rolled his eyes. "Where should I begin?"

  "Let's start with erotic fantasies."

  "But you know, not all of them are nasty and horrible," he said quietly. "Not if they are done with love, and caring. Bedroom games can keep a marriage fresh and lively."

  "I'll keep it in mind if I ever think Matthew and I are starting to go stale," she said with a grin. "I do appreciate you being concerned. But really, I do know the difference between love and compulsion. Between consensual sex between two people who care about each other, and the brutality those men subjected me to.

  "Matthew fears for me, blames himself. But I adored him as a child, loved him as a woman. I never knew how much until his finding me, rescuing me, laid his soul bare. And mine. It's cut him deeply, but I think the gash is starting to heal."

  "I don't want to reopen his wounds, and certainly not yours."

  "You won't. Now come, we haven't much time. Teach me everything I need to know about becoming a, a, what was the word you all used for Matilda? Ah, yes, I remember. All right, Philip, teach me how to be a nymphomaniac."

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Between Philip's coaching about sexual pleasure, the whole gamut from the sensual to the debauched, and what she had learnt about the human body from Eswara, by the time she reached The King's Arms Althea felt more than ready to face her foe.

  But it wasn't just the knowledge she had gleaned from an often blushing Philip which filled her with confidence now. It was also what she had revealed to him.

  It was a cathartic experience letting out all of the filth which had hovered in the depths of her mind. She had on occasion wept and been too overcome to say any more. Philip had been horrified, but a tower of strength. He had held her hand or put his arms around her whenever she'd needed him to.

  She commented after one particularly difficult session, "I adore all you Rakehells. You're such a wonderful band of brothers. I can't tell tell you how blessed I feel to have known you."

  He looked surprised and pleased, though his words belied his expression. "What, even a former male prostitute, ex-convict and blackmailer?"

  "Those are things you've done. They're not you."

  "A man is judged by and is the sum of his actions," he pointed out quietly.

  "And the reasons for them," she argued. "You did it all for love. Love of your family. Just as you've become an amazing solicitor to help the poor and downtrodden, and look at all you've done to help me, and are doing now to help Patrice."

  "Done? I'll tell you what I've done. Allowed you to dredge up painful memories, and am corrupting you into the bargain," he said with a scowl.

  She shook her head. "No, for I asked you to take me, to help me carry out my plan. And I'm not going back to Somerset until she's safe and those men are in Newgate or dead," she said firmly.

  "Thank you."

  "Thank you."

  "What for? Dragging you into this?"

  "Listening, being so patient with me."

  "It's the least I can do after the hell you've been through. But if you want one free piece of advice, here it is. Don't ever tell Matthew even one fragment of all you've told me."

  "Just like you've never told Jasmine much of what you have told me," she guessed astutely.

  "No, you're right, I never have. Not because I don't love her enough, or fear her reaction, but for the same reason you want to not share it with Matthew. To protect the people we love. Jasime was just like you when we met, sheltered, unspoiled. It was bad enough her having to learn about my past after we were married. She took it in good part, but I know she sometimes wonders if I miss my old life."

  "And do you?" she dared to ask, thinking of Matthew's old raking days. "I promise I shall not tell."

  He looked stunned at the question and shook his head at once. "Not in a million lifetimes. I look at Jasmine and my soul sings. I look at my wonderful children, and know I would kill anyone who tried to harm my family."

  "Let's make sure it doesn't come to that, though. Our mission is to capture, not kill."

  "It depends on how many of the Rakehells and authorities come. If you think it's as many as a dozen men--"

  "I'm at least sure of nine. That will make it easier. And if they're all as debauched as my step-brother, I'm sure there will be some disgruntled servants who will cry rope on them in some way."

  "What if they don't go to the secret place every night?"

  Althea said grimly, "They will. Believe me. It's never a question of if, but when. And how long for. How many at the same time. When they get a plaything, they clearly make the most of it."

  "I'm so sorry."

  "You have no reason to be. You've never attacked a woman, now ha
ve you?"

  He looked aghast at the very idea. "No, never. Or a child. For heaven's sake, Patrice is an infant."

  Althea chewed a ragged nail, then caught the gesture and put her hand back in her lap. "That's the only thing that might save her. For one thing she might be a great deal more passive than I was, not be beaten so badly and continuously drugged into near-unconsciousness. For another thing, if she's so tiny and delicate, they might not be so rough with her. The more I fought, the more they tried to subdue me. The more excited they got.

  "Maybe if she weeps and cries they might even been moved by some sort of human compassion and not use her so brutally. Though with my step-brother, I can't tell. He hated me so much that perhaps that's why they were so savage. Or prehaps I'm thinking him worse than he actually is. Yet I truly think that he and his friends were determined to make me suffer in the worst way possible. So unless any of them have a grudge against Patrice, she will just be a pretty little plaything to them."

  "God, I hope so. I can't even begin to imagine her-"

  "Then don't," she insisted, squeezing his hand hard. "Don't let your imagination run wild, or your fears get the better of you."

  "I'll try not to, but all the while I can hear a clock ticking in my head."

  "Their opening gambit will be to starve her into submission. Get her frightened, cooperative. Or try to. That will have been the first few days. They might start on the fondling, or even have got up to the showing themselves and groping a bit stage. I have the feeling it's like a ritual. Part of some sort of bizarre paganism such as the Hellfire Club celebrated. An initiation into their debauched realm, with the deflowering part of it held in reserve. Though in my case I think Charles had something even more nasty in mind."

  "What makes you say that?"

  "Because I was taken to London, put in that strange room, and the brothel went up in flames so quickly."

  "Tell me about the room."

  "It was black and red, painted with strange symbols."

  "It does sound ritualistic. And you did use the words witch's coven before."

  She nodded. "So I'm sure there was more to it than mere kidnap and rape. And again, look how they tried to kill us when we were escaping. They were willing to kill to keep their secret. They had a contingency plan so complete they dared to burn down the brother. They weren't just worried that something might go awry, and planned to just flee. They wanted to make sure they left no evidence, and no witnesses if they could help it."

  "Aye, the poor girls. Antony told me at least four bodies were found in the house, three of them women."

  She shook he head and offered up a prayer for the souls of the dead.

  "So what could be so bad that they dare not even allow the people in the brothel, a criminal element, as it were to find out about it?"

  "Indeed. Which goes back to the larger question, if they were having such pleasure with you in Enfield, why risk so much to bring you to London?"

  She nodded. "Exactly. So, they were meeting someone, waiting for him. That was why I was left alone, and Matthew found me."

  "It makes sense."

  "There was someone in London who was coming especially to see me," she repeated, trying to wrack her brains for more details. Charles had sold you to the man, and they were all going to watch me be, er, sacrificed."

  "Only Matthew got sent in instead."

  "Yes. But they didn't know who to expect. Not a regular, obviously a gent. Good Lord, it could be anyone in London. And who on earth-"

  Philip sighed. "It happens in the so-called gentlemen's clubs all the time. Willing or not so willing virgins are brought up and sacrificed for one man, or the delectation of many. Of course not all of them are virgins, but-"

  "Damn, and now we will never know..."

  "Unless he comes down to the country now to have his fun and we get lucky."

  "I don't know. It was a rather humble brothel, but in Town. Anonymous enough."

  "So, whoever it was doesn't or can't leave London easily, and certainly doesn't want to be discovered," Philip speculated aloud.

  Her eyes lit up. "Someone important, from the way they talked, someone who has association with the district, but lives in Londo now."

  "Aye," Philip said, nodding, "but who can't get away from Town that often. So it would have to be someone who worked in some profession or had a regular calendar, like an MP."

  "That makes sense."

  "Someone obviously afraid of scandal, powerful, wealthy. Someone who patronised that brothel regularly, or the owner of it owed a favour, perhaps.

  "Or he might be a secret shareholder in it?" she speculated.

  He nodded again. "All possible. I can jot down some of these thoughts in my pocket book, see what we find out as soon as Patrice is safe. I don't know if we will be able to locate the rogue, but my men and Oliver's haven't given up on someone from the burnt-down brothel singing like a canary sooner or later."

  "I hope so. Even if we catch the men in Enfield, it won't stop the ringleader from just moving his game to another arena."

  "We can also find out how many men from London are regular visitors to the district, if there's some sort of pattern or match with when the other girls supposedly eloped."

  "You might as well include Matthew on that list, Philip, and yourself," she pointed out mildly.

  "Not for the past five years, though, no. My family and I are only recently on speaking terms again, thanks to a bit of interference from my darling wife. As for your darling husband, I don't blame you for wondering a bit when he found you in such a bizarre set of circumstances, but he would never hurt you, and you were under your father's protection until he died. This has been going on for some time, but surely not under his nose."

  "Well, Charles can be clever when he wants to be, but you're right, he was more interested in tormenting me with tadpoles in my bed, not his todger."

  "So they've been recruiting, as it were, since these incidents first started."

  "You're the one who told me how seductive the forbidden can be."

  "Is that why you didn't struggle when Matthew arrived?"

  She sighed. "I was sure my mind was playing tricks on me when I saw Matthew there, but I was sure I trusted him even then. At least with my life."

  "It's he who has had a hard time trusting you. Love is a hard thing to accept if you've had little of it. It's such a rare gift. You feel so frightened it's going to be snatched away, that you don't always allow it into your heart. At least not straight away."

  "Was it like that for you and Jasmine?" she asked softly.

  He nodded slightly. "I knew I loved her. It took a bit more time for her to be convinced. Just as it probably did you, since Matthew was not exactly a lily-white young chap."

  She gazed out of the window at the sun rising higher in the sky as she pondered the question. "No, I think I always knew I loved him. He was the one who kept thinking that I would walk out on him. I hope he doesn't think we've eloped."

  He grinned and shook his head. "No chance of that."

  "You needn't sound so unflatteringly sure," she teased.

  "Er, well, at the risk of being ungallant, no other woman but Jasmine will do for me. Thanks for the offer, though."

  "Any time," she said with a pert toss of her head that had them both laughing good-naturedly.

  "But seriously, Matthew adores you. He might be a bit piqued, however."

  Althea shrugged one shoulder. "You have to trust your loved ones, or else it's all meaningless. Just as I have to trust him when he goes to Town or Bristol or wherever. It isn't easy, but it's better than the alternative, to blight our lives with awful suspicions. Really, to be fair, he's never given me a moment's cause for concern except when Matilda was in the area. And once she was gone, there was nothing to fear. Of course, I mistrusted her more than him. But that's all water under the bridge. She's gone now, gone for good."

  "How can you be so sure," he asked with interest.

  "Because
we faced her together, Matthew and I, and both told her where she stood in no uncertain terms.

  Philip raised his brows. "Good for you, my little tigress."

  She made a meowing sound and clawing gesture with her hands that set them both laughing.

  "Matthew is worth fighting for. So it was easy to stand up to her in the end."

  "And you lived to tell the tale."

  "In the end, she didn't even put up that much of a fuss. She knew when she was defeated. In fact, she knew all along that Matthew loved me. That we belonged together. It just took him a bit longer to figure it out than the rest of us."