Seduced

by Jess Michaels

  Letty laughed weakly. “As am I.”

  “There is nothing wrong with deciding to take your own happiness,” Claire said, smoothing a curl away from Letty’s face. “Life is far too short and unpredictable to do otherwise.”

  Letty bent her head. “Yes, I have lived that truth. Noah’s illness came on so suddenly, none of us could truly prepare. I know he left behind a great many things undone, unsaid, unconfessed.”

  “Then learn from his loss and don’t do the same,” Josie said softly. “I’m sure it’s what he’d want for you.”

  Letty thought of Aaron. He’d said something similar, though perhaps for slightly different reasons. It was like the stars were aligning, all pointing toward one answer.

  To take a lover. But not some gentleman—to take a lover like Jack.

  Audrey returned to the parlor with her hands behind her back and a wicked smile on her face. “Jude gave this to me a few months ago and we have gotten a lot of fun out of it. But it truly gives some practical advice in these matters, including how to approach a gentleman who you’d like to take as a lover.”

  She held out the item behind her back, and the room gave a collective gasp.

  “Is that The Ladies Book of Pleasure?” Claire squealed, snatching it from Audrey before Letty could take it.

  “Yes,” Audrey said, glaring at her older sister pointedly. “For Letty.”

  “Oh, I know,” Claire said, flipping open the plain leather-bound book. “I’ve just always wanted to see it.”

  The others moved closer, including Letty, and she gasped. There, in full detail and color, was a picture of a man bending a woman over a chair…taking her. She turned her face in shock, trying to ignore the heat that seemed to spread through her whole body.

  The others seemed more interested than surprised, though Josie and Mary did shift slightly and exchange an embarrassed glance.

  “G-goodness, it is exactly as everyone has said all these years,” Josie stammered.

  “Yes, it’s very naughty,” Audrey said with a laugh. “You will at least get a little titillation from the book, Letty. But as I said, it does have some good advice. Take it for a while and see if it will help you think up a plan of approach.”

  Letty stared as Claire pushed the book at her. Take it? Read it? God, she wasn’t ready for that. Just the one picture made her heart drop into her stomach and her legs wobbly.

  “Er, I—”

  “Do it, Letty,” Claire said, forcing the tome into her hands at last.

  Letty took it with reluctance and sighed as she crossed to her reticule. She slipped it inside, taunted by how she could still see the top of the book even when she pulled the strings to tighten it.

  “I think we’ve tortured poor Letty enough,” Mary said. “Audrey, you said those roses you’ve been struggling with are finally trying to bloom. Why don’t we get some air and see them?”

  Letty shot her friend a grateful look and watched as the others gathered themselves to go outside into the garden. It had been a very interesting day, indeed, and now she had a great deal to think about. Mostly if she was brave enough to approach a man to become her lover.

  Hell, Jack. That was who she thought of. Only she had a few questions before she could dare contemplate the idea with any seriousness.

  Claire was at the rear of the group of her cousins, and Letty moved forward to catch her arm and hold her back.

  “Claire,” she said. “I did want to talk to you about one other matter, not related to this problem.”

  Claire nodded. “Of course. What is it?”

  “Well, you know that I met War’s brother, Mr. Blackwood, at your wedding and later sat with him at your gathering a few days ago.”

  Claire chuckled. “Mr. Blackwood. Does Jack despise it when you call him that?”

  “He keeps trying to correct me, yes,” Letty admitted, bending her head as she thought of how much more intimate their brief relationship had become despite her insistence on using formal address with the man.

  “What about him?” Claire asked gently.

  “I have had a hard time reading him, I admit,” she said, treading lightly. “Certainly he isn’t like the men I’ve met in Society.”

  “No, War and his brother are entirely unique,” Claire said. “I think my husband got the better of that, but Jack is actually far more decent than he’d like the world to think.”

  Letty’s brows lifted slightly at that tidbit. “Is he? That was what I wondered. After all, the rumors about who he really is, his criminal activities…well, one would be led to believe he isn’t a decent man. But then he speaks so eloquently and can be…surprising.”

  Claire tilted her head. “This sounds like a far deeper line of questioning than I usually get regarding Jack.”

  Panic swelled in Letty’s chest. Had she gone too far, revealed too much? She tried to sound nonchalant as she continued, “What do people normally ask?”

  “Usually they just want to know if he’s truly the Captain Jack, notorious ruler of the underground.”

  “Well, I ask further because…because…” Letty struggled for a good reason before she struck on the perfect one. “Because of Griffin. My younger brother has become rather obsessed with the man, I fear. He wants to follow in his footsteps into a life of crime. I’ve spoken to both of them about it, but I’m trying to determine Mr. Blackwood’s character to know if I have reason to be more concerned than I already am.”

  “Ah,” Claire said slowly, still examining Letty’s face in a painfully direct way. Then she nodded. “If it is a character reference you desire, I can say that there is far more to Jack Blackwood than his reputation or his behavior may imply. He is loyal to a fault, he adores his brother despite a painful shared past and he is trustworthy.”

  “Trustworthy?” Letty repeated. “How do you mean?”

  “He will betray, of course—it is part of his life.” Claire’s tone became very serious. “But if you extract a promise from him to keep your secrets, he will take them to his grave.”

  Letty found herself breathing a sigh of relief. One that was swiftly followed by abject terror. Was she really going to do this?

  “Are you certain you are only asking after Jack to protect your brother?” Claire asked softly.

  Letty shook her head. “Of course. Why else?”

  “Well, you two seemed to be talking rather intently the night of our party. And later when he found out you’d left without saying goodbye, he seemed troubled. Or as troubled as that man allows the world to see.”

  “I assure you, it is nothing more than Griffin’s well-being which worries me,” Letty said. Lied. Of course she worried about her younger brother’s path, but that wasn’t on her mind now. She was thinking of Jack’s kiss.

  Of Jack’s statement about losing control when he was with her. At first she’d thought he was only teasing her with his flirtation, but now she couldn’t help but dream…could a man like that want her?

  Would she be brave enough to find out?

  The very idea went against everything she had ever done, said or believed about herself. But if she could muster the courage, not only would she get more of those drugging kisses, but Jack could very well help her solve her other problem. He could help her open the door to a future again, a marriage, even children.

  She blinked away the emotions that flooded her and said, “You needn’t worry about Mr. Blackwood, Claire.”

  Claire smirked. “Oh, trust me, I don’t worry about Jack. He can take care of himself. But tread carefully, Letty. Whatever you decide, whatever you do when it comes to taking a lover, don’t lose your head. Giving your heart is a powerful, beautiful thing, but when done only from one side, it can be devastating.”

  Letty froze. Claire was talking about her taking a lover in the same breath as they spoke of Jack. “Claire, I—”

  Her cousin waved her off. “I know, I know. You’re only speaking in hypotheticals whe
n it comes to taking lovers and such.”

  Claire squeezed her hand, then left her to follow the others to the garden. Letty stayed behind a moment, fighting the pain that rose up in her with Claire’s words. No one knew the sting of a one-sided affection better than she did.

  And she would never make that mistake again. No matter what she decided about Jack Blackwood.

  Chapter Eight

  “When are you and Claire leaving London?”

  War looked up from the decanter he was pouring from and smiled. The expression was more common on his brother’s face now that he was married, settled, happy, but it still shocked Jack when he saw it. His younger brother had always been a quiet, serious type, never filled with much light.

  Jack would always thank Claire and her daughter for that change in War. It was their love that had brought his brother happiness. He also credited Claire with encouraging War to continue their brotherly relationship after their awkward and almost deadly reunion six months before.

  “Are you trying to get rid of me?” War asked as he handed the scotch over.

  Jack shrugged. “You are a terrible nuisance,” he teased.

  War grinned wider and motioned Jack to a comfortable chair before the roaring fire. They had finished their usual Sunday supper hours before and Claire had left them to themselves and gone to bed early, complaining of a slight headache. Jack had almost envied the way War went straight to her side, taking her hand, speaking to her softly.

  That kind of connection was nothing but trouble for a man like Jack, of course, but the intimacy of it was undeniable. It had taken Claire several minutes to convince War that she was not ill and just wanted to go to sleep.

  No one cared about Jack that much. He knew that full well.

  “I assume my presence here must remind you that there are other paths beyond the criminal one for men like us,” War said, interrupting Jack’s wayward thoughts.

  The smile Jack had managed to keep on his face while his mind wandered fell. Leave it to War to touch on serious topics now. Especially ones he was not in the mood to discuss.

  “I like my path just fine,” Jack said, sipping his drink.

  War lifted his brows like he didn’t believe it. “As you wish. But tell me, how bad has it gotten since you shot your main rival between the eyes?”

  “I shot Jonathon Aston for you,” Jack reminded him. “For Claire and her daughter.”

  War’s jaw set, as it always did when they discussed that awful night. “If you hadn’t done it, Aston would have killed Claire just because he couldn’t have her. You saved her life, I know. I wasn’t judging the action. I would have done it myself had I been conscious. I just know that act opened the door for new competitors. And it must be chaos in the underground.”

  Jack took another drink. How he wished War didn’t know quite so much about his life. War was too aware of the truth to believe the lie on Jack’s tongue. The one that dismissed the danger that had multiplied when Aston died.

  “There are contenders for the throne,” Jack said with a dismissive shrug. “I wouldn’t lie about that. But they are pups all. I am not concerned.”

  War leaned forward and held his gaze relentlessly. “Your expression says otherwise.”

  Jack ground his teeth. In truth, he wasn’t worried about most of the men who pursued him. They were too weak individually to do him much harm. They were also too stupid to work well or for very long together.

  But it was the unknown man who bothered him most. The unidentified one who hung like a ghost in the shadows.

  He looked up from his drink to find War staring at him expectantly.

  “You are out of the business, War. Let it go,” Jack insisted.

  His brother’s mouth tightened, and he downed his own drink in one swig. “Yes, I suppose I should do that. Since I’m married now and leaving London behind very shortly, letting it be is my best course of action. But you are my brother, Jack. If you need my help, you obviously know where to find me. I hope you know you may turn to me if you need to do so.”

  “I wouldn’t drag you back into the mud, Warrick,” Jack said softly. “You are too clean now. Though I appreciate the offer regardless.”

  Jack couldn’t believe he was saying that. There was a time he would have done almost anything to get his brother back at his side. But War had been badly injured six months ago. Even now, Jack saw his brother’s slight limp, knew there were terrible scars beneath his shirt. It put things in perspective, he supposed.

  His life might not be worth saving, but War’s was.

  “You could come work for me,” War pressed.

  Jack hardly held back a bark of laughter. “Clean up horse shit? Oh, please, tell me more.”

  War shook his head. “You’re already in sales, Jack. I could use someone to talk to those interested in my services.”

  “They can talk to Claire. You and I know full well she’s going to end up your true partner in this endeavor.”

  “She’s pregnant,” War said softly.

  Jack jolted. He might have expected that news. He knew War and Claire were deeply and passionately in love with each other. But a child? War’s child? One that shared their blood?

  “A few months along,” War continued. “Since we only just wed and there is enough talk circulating about her return to Society and her marriage to a man like me, we decided not to tell anyone just yet. We’ll reveal the truth to her family before we leave London.”

  “Congratulations,” Jack said, lifting his glass.

  War nodded, doing the same, and they drank to his unborn child. Jack looked at War closely as they did so. There was a smile on his brother’s face unlike any he’d ever seen before. But there was also some tension around his eyes.

  “You will be a good father,” he offered.

  War met his gaze. “Will I? We never had a role model for that, did we?”

  “No.”

  He and his brother likely had different fathers, based on their mother’s ways. The man who had ended up raising them for the bulk of their lives had helped to sell her body on the street, drank to excess and had nearly killed them both through beatings.

  “What if I turn into him?” War asked.

  Jack shook his head immediately. “You are a hundred times the man that bastard was. You could never be like him.”

  “I used to bust heads for you on the street,” War pointed out quietly. “I’m no stranger to using my fists to get my point across.”

  Jack tensed, hating the guilt that passed through him like a slow wave. He was the one who had dragged his younger brother from the hellish home they’d grown up in. He was the one who’d turned War into the muscle for his operation a few years later.

  “I know you,” Jack said. “You are a good man.”

  War grunted as if he weren’t certain and said, “I suppose we’ll see if that is true.”

  “Think about Francesca,” Jack said, referring to Claire’s two-year-old daughter from her relationship with Jonathon Aston, the child she and War had risked everything to save.

  War’s face relaxed. “I do love Francesca,” he admitted.

  “Even when she is screeching at the top of her lungs, demanding what she can’t have?”

  “Even then.”

  Jack leaned forward. “And you’ve never thought of raising a finger to her, have you? At her worst?”

  “At her worst, I’ve thought of trying to rupture my own ear drums,” War chuckled. “But never hurt her, no.”

  “And if someone threatened her—”

  “I would kill them slowly,” War said with a scowl. “Painfully.”

  “Then I think you will do fine with the new baby,” Jack said, leaning back in his seat. “I think you’ll love that new baby as much as you love Francesca and Claire.”

  “I already do,” War said.

  Jack sighed. “Then I suppose you should go join your wife in bed like the old, boring fa
mily man you’ve become.”

  “I think I shall,” War said, setting his empty glass aside.

  Jack joined him on his feet and extended a hand to him. “I can show myself out.”

  To his surprise, his brother caught his hand, dragged him forward and hugged him hard. War pounded him on the back a few times and then released him.

  “I needed that brotherly talk,” he said, his voice suddenly unsteady. “Thank you, Jack.”

  Jack swallowed past the unexpected lump in his throat. He had missed War. He still missed War. But he was so glad they had come to some kind of understanding between them. That they could be brothers again even if they would never again be partners.

  “Good night, Warrick,” Jack said, allowing his brother to leave the parlor first. He followed and headed for the foyer as his brother turned for the staircase that led to the chambers above. As Jack entered the space, Warrick’s housekeeper, Mrs. Dayton, met him with his gloves.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Dayton. Good night,” Jack said.

  “Wait, sir,” the woman said, casting a quick glance over her shoulder toward the stairs where War had disappeared seconds before. “I, er, have something for you.”

  “You do?” Jack asked.

  She dug into the bosom of her gown and pulled out a wrinkled note, which she handed over to him. He stared at it, then at her.

  “Care to explain?” he said.

  Mrs. Dayton cleared her throat and said, “Well, Mr. Blackwood, Lady Seagate stopped by here the other day to see Mrs. Blackwood. When Mrs. Blackwood went to fetch something for her, Lady Seagate found me and gave me this, asking me to give it to you when you came for your regular supper tonight.”

  Jack stared at the note with wide eyes. If Letitia had gone to so much trouble, there must be something important she had to say.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Dayton,” he said, shoving the letter into the inside pocket of his coat. “Good night.”

  She held the door for him and he left. His horse was already ready for him, of course, and he swung up onto it, handing the young groom a coin for his trouble. As the boy skipped off to his bed, Jack pulled the letter out again. By the light of the house, he could read it.