Lord of Sin

by Madeline Hunter

  Her heart was already so sick she could not move. “What matters be those, sir?”

  He sat down and tried to appear sympathetic. The result was theatrical. His face assumed the right expression, but one could tell it was not sincere. “I regret to tell you that I have been instructed to terminate your lease on this property.”

  Bride managed to swallow her reaction. Thankfully, her sisters did not display emotions either. But then, they had been sitting here, waiting for this announcement for hours, and she had known what was coming as soon as she saw Mr. Young.

  She tried to find the composure to think straight. “Then take the land. We only ask that the house and garden remain for us. We have no need to farm the rest. What you saw being used as you arrived is all we require.”

  “That will not be possible.”

  “The house was built by my father. The lease on this land beneath it is by a separate indenture, and good for many years to come.”

  “The duchess’s solicitors say the indenture is flawed, and unenforceable by you. You are free to challenge that decision, of course.”

  The glint in his eyes made him look smug. He knew that challenge would be nigh impossible, and very expensive.

  Bride wished she had brought the pistol in with her.

  “Leaving us this house will hardly inconvenience Sutherland’s sheep,” she said. “It is a small thing, and the income we pay will be in addition to whatever comes from the land itself.”

  “The house has other uses, however. It is of good size, and suitable for the family of the man who will be steward of the husbandry in these glens.”

  “In other words, the duchess is too miserly to build a new house, so you will throw us out of this one.”

  “That is one way to say it, although it is well she cannot hear your disrespect. If she did, or if I got angry on her behalf, I might be inclined to forgo the generosity I was intending to display in her name.”

  “What generosity would that be?”

  “I am authorized to pay you for the house and stable so that you can resettle. I will require your signature, giving up any claims through that old lease. It would not do to hand you such a handsome sum only to have you use it to petition the courts.”

  “How handsome a sum?”

  “One hundred pounds.”

  The mood of doom instantly lifted. Her sisters’ long faces relaxed.

  Bride’s humor improved, too. At least they would not be destitute. With that amount, they could buy a house elsewhere, with a freehold that Sutherland could never violate. They could still live there and continue their work.

  Seeing she was amenable, Mr. Young reached in his coat and removed some money. He handed Bride the banknote.

  “This is a very large note, sir.”

  He laughed. “Never seen one for a hundred, eh?”

  “We would prefer silver, or even smaller notes. Fives and tens.”

  “I don’t carry sackfuls of notes with me, Miss Cameron, nor the silver to pay such an amount. You just take that to any bank, even a Scottish one. You can get your silver there.”

  Bride handed the note to Joan. Joan glanced at it and blanched.

  “One wonders why the duchess does not use Scottish banks, Mr. Young. Their notes are as good as the Bank of England’s.”

  “The business affairs are handled in London, not in the Highlands. You ever get out of these hills, you will understand how the world works. Money is money. No reason to be a Jacobite about it.”

  Joan’s eyes widened with mock innocence. She held up the note as if admiring it. “Oh, my, this came all the way from London?”

  “Of course. You don’t think notes that big are blowing in the air up here, do you?” Mr. Young took great mirth in their ignorance and his own worldliness.

  Joan looked at Bride helplessly. Bride felt limp from her head to her knees. She tried to hold herself together as their lives fell to pieces in the silence.

  “It is getting dark,” Mr. Young observed. “I need to be going. You take that money and get yourself to somewhere else. My man will bring the paper for you to sign in the morning. I will expect you out in two days.”

  Bride rose so he would get himself to “somewhere else” at once. She had the urge to cry, and would be damned before she allowed this lackey of Sutherland’s to see it.

  She escorted him to the door and watched him stride to the stable. Another man waited on its eastern side, with two horses. The rising cloud of smoke could still be seen against the darkening sky.

  She closed the door and returned to the library.

  From Mary’s tears and Anne’s expression, she could tell that Joan had given them the bad news.

  She took the note from Joan. Through brimming eyes, she looked down at a worthless forgery that she dared never hand to a bank.

  Worse yet, it had been pulled from another one of her father’s stolen plates, and had been passed all the way south in London.

  CHAPTER

  NINE

  Don’t you agree that she is being very rude?” Ewan asked.

  Colin rubbed a towel through his wet, golden hair as they washed in the dressing room of the boxing club. “Well, it sounds like you did not actually request that she inform you when the papers arrived.”

  “Is that what the world is coming to? We now need to demand acknowledgment of settlements worth fifteen thousand pounds?”

  Colin smiled in the damnably private way he had, as if he was smiling to himself alone. “Is there any particular reason why she would not want to communicate with you, McLean?”

  Ewan decided his cravat needed retying. He peered in the looking glass and dealt with it.

  “From your avoidance of my question, I assume you seduced her,” Colin said. “That was not entirely honorable of you.”

  “I did not seduce her.” And he had not, at least not entirely. “However, if I had, it would not have been entirely dishonorable, either.”

  It seemed to him that his “not entirely,” when taken together, reduced the potential dishonor to zero.

  Colin buttoned his waistcoat. “You are responsible for her, so it is murky, at best.”

  “She made it very clear that I am not responsible for her. Not in the least. She even refused a settlement for herself. She is one of those irritating women who thinks the slightest attempts of a man to help her are suspect, and who would prefer to live in a garret and eat moldy cheese before accepting assistance. She has not written because she likes to be stubborn.”

  “You are making a disaster with the cravat.”

  “To hell with it, then.” Ewan pulled on his coat and aimed for the street, with Colin in tow.

  “Perhaps you should write to her, if you are concerned,” Colin suggested as they waited for their horses.

  “I’ll be damned if I will. Nor am I concerned. I merely said I find it rude that she has not written.”

  “You are surprisingly vexed about the matter. If I did not know better, I would say you had developed a tendre for her.”

  “If I were going to develop a tendre for a woman, which I never will, it would not be this female. She is just shy of being a shrew. Now, come to the house with me. It is almost finished and you must see it.”

  As they rode through Mayfair, Colin casually broached another matter. “How is that investigation progressing?”

  “Did your brother set you to spy on me?”

  “Not at all. The situation is very serious, however. I am interested, just as anyone would be.”

  “I have begun to make discreet inquiries. You may tell Adrian that thus far they have produced nothing of use.”

  “Truly, my brother has not—”

  “Oh, tosh. Of course he has. However, I have added a strategy to my plan and you can help me. I will be conducting as much business as possible using notes, especially in the gaming halls. That way I can inspect the notes circulating, to see if there are more forgeries. If you did the same, it would give me more specimens.”
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  “If it will aid you, I will begin at once.”

  They arrived at the expansive houses of Belgrave Square. When they reached Ewan’s, a groom appeared at once to take their mounts.

  Colin gazed up at the restrained classicism of the house’s facade. “Do you get lost in it?”

  “Every day. However, the world would cease its rotation if earls did not live in ostentatious luxury. It is doubly my duty to spend my inheritance, since my uncle rarely parted with a guinea except for prints. He left an obscenely large fortune for me to squander.”

  “Save some of it for the future. You will have a wife soon who will want to do some squandering herself.”

  Ewan entered the house. It still tickled him to realize it was his. He had thoroughly enjoyed the spree of choosing the furnishings without asking their price. He had been able to obtain the best, when in the past he would have gladly settled for merely tasteful.

  “I will ignore your reference to marriage, Burchard. I cannot go out in society without every conversation turning to likely brides for me. I do not need your hounding me into my own castle with the harping.”

  Colin handed his hat to the waiting servant, then followed Ewan up the stairs. “My apologies. It is just that Mrs. Norton has intimated—”

  “I am sure she has. She has been intimating little else to me for weeks.” Ewan climbed the stairs with determination. “I am done with her, by the way. It will be all around town in a day or so.”

  “Bit harsh, don’t you think? You cannot blame her for being hopeful.”

  Ewan did not blame Jasmine Norton for being hopeful. He did blame her for being greedy, however.

  Last night, when she saw the necklace he had bought her, she could have at least pretended delight in the gift before commenting that she had hoped for a different one. He might have overlooked her escalating avarice, then, even though she had boldly set her heart on a necklace that cost over a thousand pounds.

  Instead she had pouted and sulked like a child, and even insinuated that if she did not get what she wanted, he should not get what he wanted.

  It was moments like that which made Ewan wistful for the bygone days when he was too poor to buy necklaces. Women accepted him for what he was then, and came to him for pleasure and fun, not jewels. That innocence was hopelessly gone. Whether ladies of the court or courtesans of the night, women would be trying to use their favors in an unseemly game of blackmail now.

  He put thoughts of Mrs. Norton, and the scene that had ensued when he broke with her, out of his head. He led Colin into the drawing room. As he did, he heard a faint rumble coming from the other chambers on the floor. It seemed the unpacking had not been completed as quickly as Michael expected.

  “This house has a very special lay of chambers, Burchard. The ballroom is over there, but look, on this side here is the main drawing room. This is where I will entertain the Earl of Lyndale’s boring acquaintances.”

  “Very stately,” Colin said, surveying the Aubusson rugs and damask upholstery. “Not nearly as welcoming as your apartment, but that cannot be avoided, I expect.”

  “I know what you are thinking. You are trying to picture the party here, the one a fortnight hence that I am planning. Have no fear, good friend. Follow me.”

  Ewan paced down the room to large double doors at the end. He swung them open. “Here, in the house’s corner, is the library.”

  “Your own library is respectable, but there must be a thousand volumes here.”

  “Those fellows who design interiors buy them by the weight, much like plaster and moldings. I will rebind the ones I want to keep, and replace those I don’t.” He walked to a side door and beckoned Colin. “The second drawing room is right behind this door. Not so large, but big enough.”

  “What are those sounds?”

  “That is Michael unpacking my collection, and preparing a special surprise for you.”

  “You mean—”

  “Yes, I will have a salon just for my prized possessions. All the sofas and chaise longues are in there, too, just like my old chambers. I can hold the boring, obligatory functions in the big drawing room, while I lock off this other one. Or I can have parties with my old friends in this second drawing room and we can spill out to the library and even the big chamber if we choose.”

  “It sounds perfect. What is my surprise?”

  “Something just for you, my good friend, who has the sense not to get domesticated, and who would never want me to change. A special little gift.”

  Ewan swung open the doors.

  His gaze swept the room’s interior.

  He froze in shock.

  Colin looked around. “Impressive, McLean, and I am touched by your generosity. However, the one on the swing looks a little young.”

  The one on the swing was indeed young. Young and blond and laughing as she made the swing sweep back and forth.

  Ewan found his voice. “Good God.”

  “Does that mean they are not my surprise?”

  “No, but they are certainly a surprise all the same.”

  A big surprise. An astonishing one.

  The Cameron sisters had invaded his house.

  Not only his house, but his private retreat. He did a desperate scan and noted that only a small part of the collection had been unpacked.

  Too much, however. Anne sat on a sofa, her head tilted as she frowned at the little Renaissance bronze of the nymph and satyr that had been set on the table beside her spot.

  Mary squealed on the swing, showing a lot of ankle while a handsome footman happily gave her little pushes.

  The other two sisters were on a sofa in a corner, poring over a portfolio of engravings. Ewan noted gratefully that it was not one with erotic prints.

  Michael sat on the arm of the sofa, hovering over Joan and being worthless.

  Suddenly Bride noticed them. That made Michael notice, too. He jumped up and began collecting cups and dishes that displayed the remains of extensive refreshments.

  “Mary, stop that at once and make yourself presentable. Lord Lyndale is here,” Bride said. “Anne, stop peering at that odd statue. If you have not comprehended it by now, you never will.”

  Colin tipped his head close to Ewan’s. “Would these be the sisters you were telling me about?”

  “Yes.”

  “Would the formidable, severe one who is issuing commands be—”

  “Yes.”

  “I think I will be leaving. You can give me my gift another time.”

  “No. Do not leave. That is not necessary.”

  “Scares you, does she?”

  “Of course not. I could thrash her with one arm tied behind me.”

  “I am not so sure. If you survive, be sure to call on me and tell me all about it.” Colin fled back into the library.

  It entered Bride’s mind that she was seeing Lord Lyndale as stunned and discomfitted as she ever would. That was poor compensation for having to eat her pride, but it was something at least.

  The handsome blond man with Lyndale disappeared.

  Michael called for the footman and shoved a large tray in his hands. Then Michael turned to his master.

  “I did not know where else to put the ladies, my lord. Leaving them below in the kitchen did not seem proper. The furniture hasn’t arrived for the library yet, and Miss Cameron declared the main drawing room was too fine for eating and such. She found her way back here and declared this would do.”

  Lyndale finally entered the chamber. He glanced at the tray passing him on its way to the door. “Of course the ladies would require refreshments after their journey. You arrived in London this morning, Miss Cameron?”

  “Yes, on the early mail coach.”

  “I am, of course, delighted to see all of you again. However, if you had written, I would have seen that you were met. For that matter, I would have sent a coach to Scotland for you.”

  She had not written because the entire way here she kept trying to devise a plan that woul
d spare her from asking him for help.

  There had been no choice, however. Their meager funds had been completely depleted. She currently had less than five pounds in her valise.

  “To what do I owe the honor of this visit?”

  Lyndale tried to look welcoming, but his eyes still reflected shock. As he spoke, he strolled over to the table beside Anne and casually lifted the little statue. Without missing a step, he beckoned Michael and placed the little bronze in his hands.

  “We were thrown out of our home.”

  She proceeded to describe the visit from Mr. Young.

  While Lyndale listened, he calmly moved across the chamber, lifted a small painting off the wall and handed that to Michael, too. Although shadows had shrouded its subject, Bride had surmised it depicted Venus and Mars mutually admiring each other’s amorous attributes.

  “We barely had time to find wagons in which to pack our belongings and our studio,” Bride concluded. “Left with no resources and no home, I decided we had no course except to come here, since you demanded we seek you out, should we require assistance.”

  “Certainly. Most sensible.”

  Lyndale’s eyes lit on a stone relief hanging on another wall. Bride wondered how he would deal with that. It looked very heavy, and displayed a variety of couples enjoying one another’s company with creative vigor.

  She could see him assessing its weight and size. Finally, he merely walked over and took a position in front of it so his body blocked its view.

  “Well, here you are,” he said with forced joviality. “Now we must decide what to do with you.”

  “I have that all planned.” She’d had plenty of time to think about it during that long journey. “If the trusts were established—”

  “Of course they were. You may not have received the papers before you departed Scotland, but they were sent.”

  “I am sure they were. Since the trusts were established, we will have income once the funds pay. That will be some months, and the first dividend will not be significant, but it will still be enough. Until then, we will make do here. I will seek employment with an engraver, however, so we may be able to achieve independence more quickly.”