Fearless

by Lynne Connolly

  He had three fingers in there now, and when he tugged, he half pulled her breast from its confines. His lips left hers, barely, and he glanced down. The heat in his eyes when he looked back at her face was almost unbearable. She felt helpless, unable to say anything or fathom where they were going. But every cell in her body pleaded for more.

  He ran his thumb over the flesh he’d exposed. She shivered, and her mouth fell open as the most uncivilized sound fell from her. He responded to her long groan by kissing her again. Responding to him, she curved her hand over her waist, seeking an opening. She ached to touch bare skin, needed his warmth, the intimacy of him with nothing between them.

  His kiss turned lascivious, openmouthed, and his breath came in short, choppy gasps as he pressed his mouth to her cheek, her throat and farther down to her shoulder. Although the bones of her stays dug into her painfully, she wanted more. The pain was a delicious counter to the caresses he was pressing on her, sending contrasting thrills and driving her out of her mind.

  “You’re the most passionate, responsive creature I have ever met,” he muttered as he touched her skin with his mouth, as if trying to kiss every part of her he could. “And to think I nearly let you go.”

  His words made her head spin. That was, until the realization slammed into her. He let her go? Yes, he did. And she didn’t want him, this man who would take her and wreck her. She had no skills, she could not hold someone as brilliant, as passionate as he was.

  Her back was against the door so she had nowhere to go, but she jerked sideways. As he followed her, intent on more, she held up her hands.

  “No, Val. No.”

  With a sudden movement, he straightened. Tipping his head back, he sucked in two noisy breaths before he spoke, his chest expanding. “I’m sorry,” he said to the ceiling. Then he lowered his head and gazed at her, a laugh forcing itself out. Gently, he brushed her hands aside and took over the task of restoring her breast to its proper place. “Dear God, Charlotte. What were we thinking?”

  “Val, I…” She tried again. The tide of passion was receding, or at least getting into controllable levels.

  He caught her hands once they were free, raising one to his lips and then the other. “No, it was my fault. I should know better than that. I have no excuse, except…” He bit his lip. “No, it would be cowardly to blame this on you.”

  She ploughed on. “Val, I need you to let me go.”

  His eyes widened. “Even now, with this passion lying between us?”

  At least she’d succeeded in knocking him off-balance, too. He’d unnerved her, which was one reason she needed to talk to him. “Yes, with this.” She made a fuss of shaking out her skirts. “Because of this.” Nothing but work but the truth, but she had not realized that articulating it would be so difficult. Lifting her head, she folded her hands before her in her usual gesture. Neatly, quietly, without fuss. Assuming her normal posture gave her strength, drew power into her. It wouldn’t be so bad. He’d understand. “It’s too much, Val. If you do this to me, I will become your slave. As I became my father’s slave. With him I had no choice. He is my father. He may rule my life until I marry.”

  “Yes, until you marry. Are you comparing me with him? The Dignified Duke?” He laughed harshly as he pronounced the derogatory name society had labeled her father. “Do you think I would make you stand in my presence?”

  “No. I think you will enslave me in a different way. This is more dangerous because I’m compliant with it. I’ll go willingly. I can do nothing else. Your experience, your confidence, your passion—it all goes to making me obedient. Submissive.”

  A wild look sparked his eyes to life but was gone immediately. What had she said?

  “You will learn. I know passion can make a person helpless, unable to break away, but that will pass, I swear.”

  “That’s exactly the point, Val. You will move on. I will not.”

  “No, no.”

  She would not let him speak. He would persuade her, and then she’d be lost. “It’s the truth, Val. Since when have you stayed with a woman for more than a year? Six months? Your affairs are notorious. I can’t live like that, wondering who is next and where I stand in your list. You are a philanderer and worse. Only your family has kept you from serious scandal.”

  His face suddenly blanked of expression. She blinked. Was he as good at hiding his emotions as she was? But no, a glimmer remained, and he sighed, shaking his head. Like everything else about him, that did not last long. “That is true. But I learned that I am not as wild as some. Not as depraved, I might say.”

  She would not allow him to distract her. “Maybe, but I am not betrothed to them. Let me go, Val. Unless you want to ruin me, let me go.”

  His lips firmed. “Not to Kellett.”

  “Yes. He is my choice. He is gentle, kind, and true.”

  Val laughed harshly and his eyes flashed. “You think so? Let me tell you something about Lord Kellett.”

  “No!” She refused to listen. He would only blacken Hervey’s character, and Hervey did not deserve that. “Let me go.”

  “If he’ll take you after this.” He prowled closer.

  She held up her hands, warding him off. “After what?”

  “After the scandal we created tonight.”

  She faced him defiantly. “I set out to create a scandal. I wanted to become as notorious as you are. Then my father will work harder to release me from the contract. Your parents wanted me for you because they thought I would be a steadying influence on you. So what if I become as wild as you?”

  If she hadn’t been a lady she’d have damned him to hell when he threw his head back and laughed.

  “One evening dressed in a mildly scandalous manner will not accomplish that, my lady. You’ll have to work harder than that. Perhaps you already have.”

  “Perhaps I have.”

  “Not in the way you might want. How many people saw us come in here? It only takes one, and she murmurs it to her friend, and they go about the room, increasing their story exponentially. Some leeway is allowed to us because of our betrothal but not this much.”

  Shock arced through her with the force of pain, a slash of recognition. He was right. She had no idea how long they had been in here. Half an hour, perhaps? As if to mock her, the clock in the corner chimed the half hour. “I will not marry you,” she said, gasping the words as she turned and wrenched open the door, bursting out of the room before fear overtook her again.

  Her father was waiting outside. He grabbed her arm roughly. “We are leaving,” he said, before dragging her away.

  Chapter 10

  After he’d put himself to rights, Val left the room, feeling foolish and angry. There was a lot of anger around tonight. He’d heard her father’s voice and was not surprised to hear from the gossips that the duke had hauled his daughter away. He could do nothing about that, not yet, but he would.

  He’d heard enough. The duke was a tyrant. Now he had met Charlotte’s sister, much became clear. Louisa was eighteen, under the age of consent and probably the trump card the duke held to keep Charlotte in check. He would do his best and encourage his father to help him get her away, though there was little he could do about it if the duke chose to keep his youngest daughter for another three years.

  All he had was the signed marriage contract, and he would not let that go easily. At the moment it was his only weapon, his only way of striking back against the man who aimed to take Charlotte and make her into God knew what.

  The news about Janey had crystallized what he felt and what he knew he must do. Even if she did not want him when he was done, he had to give Kellett the right-about. Val could not allow the man anywhere near her.

  As he left the room he met the stares boldly, but for the first time he felt shame at what he did. He truly had not intended to make her situation worse. He strode through to the ballroom, intent on finding Kellett. He would make his position clear before he left, and the man would listen to him.

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nbsp; Darius came up to him. “He’s in the card room. He was waiting for her to emerge, but her father got there first.”

  Val studied his brother in silence until he regained the sangfroid he was famous for.

  Darius jerked a brief nod. “You’ll do.”

  Val had never deceived his twin before, not as thoroughly nor as completely. He surprised himself with the ease he used putting on his society mask. Perhaps Charlotte had inspired him. He’d seen when she’d tried to assume her usual mien and privately rejoiced when she was unable to do so with him. He was breaking through to her.

  His course was set. Kellett would never have her if he had anything to do with the matter.

  “Did you tell her about Janey?” Darius said quietly.

  His every sense revolted. “How could I? How do you tell a respectable woman that? She would likely refuse to believe me in any case.” Then she would believe he was a liar as well as fickle.

  “She should be warned.”

  Val shook his head and moved on, leaving the ballroom in favor of hunting his quarry.

  Ivan was already in the card room. Groups of people were sitting around half a dozen small tables. Some were laughing and enjoying their friendly game. Others were playing in earnest. The seasoned players had a way about them. Man or woman, they affected carelessness, but their gazes were sharply intent. Either that or clouded with drink. Some only played when they were intoxicated, but they won all the same. Recklessness could lead to riches. Or of course, it could lead to ruin.

  Val helped himself to a glass of rich ruby-red wine from one of the bottles standing on the sideboard. The company had made their way through quite a few already, even though the well-trained staff were busy clearing away the spent bottles.

  He took his time observing the company, waiting until his mind was once more coolly analytical. He would not undertake his plan until his head had cleared. The familiar sounds of clinking coins, soft conversation, and cards being dealt entered his senses.

  His quarry was sitting at a table with four others, a few coins on the table indicating their state of play. One gentleman glanced up, nodded at Ivan, and left the table. Nicephorus, Viscount Westwood, was taller than most gentlemen in the room. He even topped Darius and Val by an inch or two. He did not stop for a word, but passed through the other door in the direction of the ballroom after nodding to his cousins.

  “Reinforcements?” Val queried.

  “He happened to be here. I happened to mention that we would appreciate his help.” Darius nodded to the empty chair. “Off you go. Ruin him.”

  Trust Darius to know exactly what was in his twin’s mind.

  Val’s proficiency at the card table was well known, but these days he only played moderately. Before they had begun the insurance business, he had taken his playing to extremes. Known for playing deep and recklessly, he’d won and lost a great deal, but he appreciated the better odds and deeper stakes in his business venture and saved his acumen for that.

  Not tonight. “Good evening, gentlemen.” He took his place at the table.

  Kellett looked up sharply, an arrested expression on his face. He met Val’s eyes. If he rose and left, the Emperors would take that as an insult. He did not need Val to tell him that. If he stayed and played a hand or two he might survive the evening, but Val had plans to stop him leaving once he began to play too deep. He put his hand in his pocket and drew out some gold, dropping it in the cup carved into the wood by his place at the table.

  A gentleman glanced at him and then at Kellett. Word about Val’s disagreement with Kellett had obviously flown around the ball, as he presumed it would. He had not planned it that way but had taken her into that room in a whirlwind of anger and concern. However, he wasn’t above using it, if he had to.

  After murmuring excuses the two other gentlemen left the table. Val hardly saw them go. The tension in the room rose, and a few people filtered in. They were expecting a show. He intended to give it to them.

  Darius and Ivan took the other two places at the table and bade everyone a genial good evening.

  As Kellett pushed back his chair, Val dropped an item on the green baize. Diamond chips glinted as the article rolled over and settled.

  The cut steel buttons on Kellett’s waistcoat glittered as he heaved a breath. His dark eyes met Val’s. If his were any reflection of his brother’s, they were as hard as the stones in the tie pin he had just dropped.

  Val leaned back and crossed his legs at the ankles, but he never relented in his perusal of his adversary.

  Kellett reached for the pin, but with seeming leisure, Val put his hand over it. “It’s a pretty piece, is it not? You have to play for it if you’ve taken a fancy to it.”

  “I believe my initials are on it.”

  Val picked up the pin and made a play of examining it. “So they are.” Flicking a glance at Kellett, he raised a brow. “Is it a coincidence, or are you laying claim to it? I came by it in the most unusual place.”

  Kellett shrugged. “It could have been lost anywhere.”

  “In Covent Garden?” Val twirled the long pin between his fingers, drawing attention to the item.

  Kellett stiffened. “I go to the theater regularly.”

  “And to the other side of the piazza?” Val wasn’t talking geographically. The shock in his opponent’s eyes told him that he knew that. “Not every house there is as salubrious as the theater.”

  Darius and Ivan remained very still.

  “I see.” Kellett lowered his gaze. “I will play you for it, sir.”

  Val had just told him several things, and he did not believe Kellett had missed one of them. He knew about Janey, and he had evidence of Kellett’s transgressions. Except that this pin was strictly evidence of nothing, unless Kellett laid claim to it. “So is it yours, sir?”

  “I may have owned one like it once.”

  Val had made a note of the hallmarking on the piece and made a rough sketch. He could identify it and the jeweler it had come from. But no court of law would accept it as evidence of murder, unless Kellett lay claim to it as his.

  He did not hold out any expectation of that, or of bringing a murder charge since no body was forthcoming. Nevertheless, Kellett would pay, in one way or another. If Val could not bring true justice, he would get it another way.

  “An aberration,” Kellett said, tracing a pattern on the table.

  His finger was not entirely steady, Val noted with satisfaction.

  “Every man tries something a little different from time to time, do you not agree?” His gaze went from Val to Darius.

  Ah. The threat did not have to be any more blatant. He was implying that he would expose Darius. He was not giving up without a fight. Val shrugged, although his heart missed a beat. Darius could be hanged for what came to him naturally.

  Val knew how to protect his own, and he would give his life for his brother. He picked up a wrapped pack of cards and broke the seal. “Whist?”

  They agreed, and he dealt. Casually he picked up the pin and secured it on his coat, where Kellett could feast his eyes on it.

  The first rubbers passed as the stakes slowly grew and the men threw guineas into the table as if they were pennies. Kellett had enough money to keep up with the trio. They would not beat him that way.

  Gentle murmuring from the onlookers did not interrupt them. People at the other tables continued to play. The chink of coins and gentle conversation was punctuated by the terse declaration of bets and a few desultory exchanges of conversation.

  “You have made quite a splash this season, sir.” Darius growled the words, obviously, at least to his twin, affected by Kellett’s threat. He was not talking about water.

  “Indeed.” Kellett dropped a two of spades. Hearts were trumps, but nobody used one.

  Darius won the play and placed a ten on the table.

  “I intend to continue. I have come to town to seek a wife.”

  Why? Did he want someone to torture, or someone to cove
r his torture of others? “There are many lovely young women making their debut this season.”

  “One in particular.”

  Val gathered the hand he had won and added to the small heap of coins in the center of the table. “Indeed. I fear she is spoken for.”

  “Not for much longer.”

  The man had a nerve. He knew Val was aware of his murdering ways, and yet he dared to threaten him?

  Or was he merely trying to anger his opponent? Val refused to be veered off course. He would not support his brother at the expense of his betrothed. He would win them both.

  “A contract is signed.”

  “It will be broken.”

  Val would rather kill him. Instead, he took the next rubber. By that time he was breathing steadily again, but anger simmered steadily inside him.

  Kellett paused in the act of gathering the cards for his deal. The emerald on the ring on his hand glinted like the eye of a snake. “I will have the lady, sir. I have the assets she requires. Her father is amenable to my suggestions, and I expect to be victorious soon.”

  Val raised a brow. “Interesting. How do you propose to achieve that?”

  “By asking.”

  “And what if I object?” Val bared his teeth.

  Kellett shrugged. “You will not, sir. You will be too busy elsewhere.” His sly glance at Darius explained his meaning.

  Fear streaked through Val. Had the bastard collected information about Darius? Would he lay that before a magistrate? Fielding of Bow Street had the reputation for incorruptibility. If Darius were caught in an illegal act in his jurisdiction, he would find himself in Newgate.

  Anger followed. Val would do more than win Charlotte from this evil specimen of humanity. He would destroy him. Nobody threatened the people he loved and walked away free and clear. Cold determination drove him now.

  Darius glanced his way but said nothing. He would have recognized his twin’s mood enough to know he could do nothing about it. Darius was always the more easygoing twin, despite Val’s usual casual manner. “I believe I can find time for both tasks.”