If He's Tempted

by Hannah Howell

  Looking into the eyes of the angry boy who had the voice of a man and promised to be tall, Brant inwardly cursed but kept his voice calm. “Never. I but came to say good night to her, and apologize for what my mother tried to do to you, and to her.” He bowed to the boy. “I apologize to you as well.”

  “There is no need,” said Ilar. “I was not harmed.” He grinned. “And I discovered that I am far from helpless as well. That is a good thing.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Is my mother in danger because she is helping your sister?”

  “Yes, she is but she will not stop until this is done no matter how much I tell her she should. She says she has given my sister a promise and will see that it is fulfilled.”

  “Ah, of course. My mother would never break a promise. I understand now. Good night, m’lord.”

  Brant murmured a good night and watched the boy return to his bedchamber. He had known almost from the start of their adventure that Lady Wherlocke was an honorable woman. The confidence her son had in her keeping of a promise revealed that her honor was a deep part of who she was. He found that a little too alluring.

  Just as he was starting to remind himself for what he thought had to be the hundredth time that he was no good for her, something brushed up against his leg. Brant looked down at the tabby that had been brought in to feed the kitten. A quick glance around revealed no small shadow and he looked back at the cat.

  “You should return to the room and to your new child,” he quietly told the cat and the cat responded with a slow blink but never moved. “I have no box of sand in my bedchamber.” Still the cat did not move. “Well, come along then.”

  The cat followed him into his bedchamber, looked at the bed, and jumped up on it. After several moments of circling, it settled down right in the middle of the bed. Brant shook his head, prepared himself for bed, and then, after losing a staring match with the cat, he slipped beneath the covers, contorting his body a little to fit in around the cat. Lady Olympia Wherlocke, the beautiful baroness of Myrtledowns, had a lot to answer for, he thought before closing his eyes. He just hoped he did not wake in the morning too stiff to move.

  Chapter 15

  Pawl met them at the door as they pulled to a stop before the Warren. He looked at the two cats in the small cage Olympia carried and scowled. “So that is where they went.”

  “Sorry about that, Pawl,” said Olympia as she let him take the cage from her. “Just put them back in my bedchamber.”

  “How is Ilar?”

  “Just fine but it appears the enemy has upped the stakes.” She frowned as she heard female voices coming from the drawing room. “I have company?”

  “Your cousin Quinton Vaughn has arrived. It seems he saw to a small bit of business for you in Scotland.”

  Olympia turned to smile at Brant who stood behind her. “He found the stolen girls.” She hurried off to the drawing room hearing the click of Brant’s boots as he followed her.

  Inside the drawing room were seven girls. He doubted any one of them was older than fifteen. Thomas sat next to a thin, frightened young girl with curly brown hair and huge brown eyes, holding her hand and patting it. Brant supposed that was his other aunt.

  And then the man in the room stood up and smiled at Olympia. She gave a glad cry and hurried over to hug him. If not for that very distinct look of a Wherlocke, Brant knew he would be suffering far more than the small pinch of jealousy that he was. This had to be Quinton and, if Brant was any judge, Olympia’s cousin was the sort of man women flocked to. He was not only well over six feet in height, he had broad shoulders, long black hair that he did not bother to tie into a neat queue but let flow over those big shoulders, and was impeccably dressed. When the man looked over Olympia’s shoulders and studied Brant like he was some new kind of bug, Brant had to fight to quell the urge to go over and punch the man right in his elegant nose.

  The introductions took awhile as each girl was identified. Thomas took them off to find some place where they could all clean up and rest while Pawl arrived with some food and drink. When Olympia sat down on the small settee, Brant was quick to sit by her side. He just smiled at the cold look Quentin Vaughn gave him as her cousin settled his big body on the settee facing Olympia. As she told Quentin a severely edited version of everything that had happened so far, Brant poured himself a cup of coffee, briefly wondering if he could get Enid to teach his cook how to make the brew. Then he recalled that he was in dire need of a whole new roster of servants at Fieldgate and would undoubtedly have to replace many of the ones at the town house as well.

  “There were only six girls?” asked Olympia as she poured tea for the men.

  “No,” replied Quentin. “There were twenty but several were from the port town the ship was docked in, a few more had me leave them at their homes along the way as we traveled here. Aside from Thomas’s aunt, the rest live in the city. They all made it very clear who had stolen them away from their homes.”

  “My mother,” Brant said and sighed.

  “If your mother is somewhat slender, not too tall, and still a handsome woman despite her age, then, yes, I suspect it was your mother. Young Anna, Thomas’s aunt, said the woman acted toward them all as if they were no more than cattle. She arrived in a carriage with a huge footman, looked all the girls over and then demanded payment from the ship’s captain.”

  “That certainly sounds like her. Did you see my mother then?”

  “No, that description was given me by some of the girls as they were all in the hold and the woman actually came down to inspect them. One lass said that from the way the woman looked them all over she had expected her to ask them to show her their teeth next. I do believe I got them all out of there before any physical harm was done to them. They were soon to be shipped out when I arrived with my men and then they did not have to worry any longer. The captain does not either,” he added with a cold smile.

  “Thank you so much, Quentin,” said Olympia. “We must have done her some damage now since we emptied that Dobbin House. I just wish we could rescue everyone.”

  “The rescue of the girls did not hurt her finances, Olympia, as it is clear she had already gotten her payment for them,” said Brant. “The loss of the captain might be more damaging. If nothing else, it will mean she must arrange something else. I just wish I could say for certain that that will be a difficult thing for her to do.”

  Quentin finished off a small cake and then shook his head. “It is a filthy trade but it has gone on forever and will continue to go on. We saved some and those we saved will be much more aware of the dangers out there. I did discover, Fieldgate, that many of the girls were taken from lands belonging to you, the Earl of Fieldgate.”

  “She means to help herself to all of my people then, to treat my lands as if they are some market.” He sighed. “I had thought it was just the bastards my father bred but Thomas’s little aunt is no blood of mine. She is just a pretty young girl.”

  “Pretty young girls have been victims before and will be again. That is something you will never stop. So how do you intend to stop your mother?”

  The fact that none of the Wherlockes appeared horrified that a genteel woman, a mother and pillar of society, would do such things as sell children told Brant that the family had suffered. They had also seen a lot of suffering. Olympia had also been told all of that had happened when Ashton had met his Penelope and saved her from trouble.

  At times Brant still reeled in shock over all his mother had done when he thought about it. He did not even wish to search for other crimes she may have committed in the past for he had too much to accept now. More horrors would surely break him. He carefully explained yet again how he was trying to soften the blow to the family for the sake of his siblings and the name of Fieldgate. With each new thing he discovered about his mother, those reasons began to look selfish and uncaring.

  Quentin nodded. “You have three who have not even stepped out into the world much yet. To suffer the kin
d of scandal this could bring down on their heads could break them. One needs some tempering before standing straight and proud while the storm rages over your head. And your sister deserves her chance to make a good marriage.”

  “Mother feels she has taken care of that by negotiating a marriage agreement with Lord Sir Horace Minden.” Brant nodded when Quentin stared at him, his eyes slowly widening. It appeared Wherlockes and their cousins the Vaughns could indeed be shocked.

  “That is something you had best hurry to stop. He is filth and it is a wonder he has not been gutted before this. From all I know and have heard there is no perversion the man will not try or does not like to indulge in. I have also heard that he likes virgins because he thinks bedding them will rid him of the pox that is eating away at him.”

  “Lord Fieldgate?” Pawl called from the door. “Andras Vaughn has just sent you a message. He would like to meet with you as soon as possible. Do you wish to reply? The boy he sent is waiting.” He nodded when both Brant and Olympia paled.

  Shaking free of the horror of his mother selling her child to a man riddled with the pox and sensing his hopes rising, Brant went to talk to the boy Andras had sent, made sure he understood the reply, and gave him a shilling. He hurried back into the drawing room and smiled at Olympia. Perhaps matters would now begin to go their way.

  “I must change and go speak with Andras,” he told her.

  “Of course.” Olympia stood up and, not caring what Quentin thought, gave Brant a brief hug and a kiss on the cheek. “I will pray that this is the news you have been looking for.”

  The moment Brant left and Olympia retook her seat, she could feel Quentin’s gaze on her. She idly wished she did not have the sort of family that felt it had the right to stick their long noses into all private business within the family. She could not complain too much, however, for she was guilty of that little sin herself.

  “Just how good a friend is Fieldgate?” demanded Quentin.

  “Do you forget that I am a baroness,” she said, ignoring his snort of laughter over her announcement, “and a widow of six and twenty? I do not believe it is necessary for you to know such things. What goes on between me and Brant is none of your concern.” The look on Quentin’s handsome face told her he was just patiently waiting for her to finish and not really listening. She wanted to hit him.

  “And he has a mother who sells babies to the flesh markets.”

  She sighed. There was that to consider. Her family would not be the shelter it was to all of their kin if they did not worry when one of their own became connected to such a man.

  “Brant is not involved in all of that.”

  “Oh, I know that. Could see that right away. He does not have that taint.”

  “He would be pleased to know that as I know he worries. How could one not when it is the person who bore you? But, he will end her crimes in one way or another.”

  Quentin nodded. “I could see that as well. Honest man. Good man. Also a man so stuffed with guilt that it could take form, step outside of him, and walk along his side as a brother.”

  “That much?”

  “He is fair to choking on it. He believes he is a failure,” Quentin said, his eyes taking on a faraway glow. I suspect it is for far more than that girl of his Penelope and her man found, what, two years ago?”

  “Yes, it has been that long at least. But, he did not fail her. Her father was a vicar, and when he told Brant Faith had run off with a soldier, what else could he do but accept it? He had no reason to believe such a well-respected man of the cloth would lie to him.”

  “No, he did not, but that does not stop a man from thinking he could have done more.” Quentin smiled at her. “We are what our nature makes us, love. We believe it is our duty to protect the smaller and weaker.” He laughed when she glared at him. “You can get as angry as you wish. It will not change that, either. I doubt you will find any man who would not believe what a vicar said but there will still be that little voice in a man’s head suggesting he could have done something else, asked one more question or done one more small thing that might have shown him the truth in time for him to save her.”

  “Men can be such foolish creatures.”

  “We can but can you honestly tell me that, if any harm had come to your son, you would not have had the weight of guilt upon your own heart? You could not have changed what happened. You could not have even guessed that that woman would try to take the boy.”

  “I should have,” she said and then grimaced when she realized she had just proven Quentin right in his assumptions. He did not have to look so smug about it, however, she thought and then asked, “I know it is wrong to use our gifts in such a way yet cannot seem to stop myself from asking what else you saw. I so want to ease his heart and mind, foolish as that might be.”

  “It is the guilt I see that weighs on him the most. It is as if he carries the ghost of all he believes he has wronged or failed. The man needs to learn to forgive himself.”

  “But he has done no wrong.”

  “No, he has not, but unless he forgives himself for not being right there, sword in hand to protect everyone close to him, that guilt will remain.”

  “Bugger.”

  Quentin laughed. “Now, tell me how my daughter is. I mean to go see Juno while I am in the country and should like to be warned if there is anything troubling her. And then you can tell me how your son managed to keep himself from being taken away by that demon that calls itself Fieldgate’s mother.”

  Brant stared at Andras and then at the papers set before him before looking back at Andras again. “It is settled?”

  “You must just sign the papers.” Andras smiled and Brant thought the man was a little too close to being beautiful when he did. “I had not expected it to go so smoothly, either. I went to our cousin Leopold. He works in the government, although not in such things as this. I but felt he could name someone I might be able to talk to, maybe even get some help from so that we did not have to drag this all through the courts. The man was far more than helpful.”

  “I notice that you do not mention his name.”

  “And I will not as I promised him to keep his part in this as quiet as was possible. He is barely gentry as he likes to say it and cannot afford to be seen to be using his knowledge or skills to aid in anything that interferes with the affairs of ones as high up as a countess.”

  Brant nodded, still touching the papers that gave him care of Agatha as if he feared they would disappear. “It could end his career.”

  “Exactly. He did not think helping in this matter would hurt him but he could not risk it. He means to marry soon, you see. And, it appears that one of those children you rescued and returned to their family was the son of his closest friend.”

  “How fortuitous for me then.”

  “Exactly, although I believe he would have helped me anyway. He said that even though you had, er, misbehaved of late there should never have been any question of who was head of the house, even as concerned the youngest daughter, your sister. You are, after all, the earl.”

  “So how did he reverse all the decisions made?”

  “First he sniffed out the one who had made the final decisions, and why he would have done something so contrary to what any other man in that position would have done. Then he went and had a chat with the man. Of course that man dared not change his decision openly for the secrets your mother has on him could destroy his new marriage to a woman he dearly loves.” Andras frowned. “My new friend,” he grinned, “told the man to cease being a coward and tell his wife for even if your mother is declawed, others could find out the same secrets and try to use him for their own gains as well. Then it was off to a man one step higher up than that one, a man my new friend is very close to, and all was rescinded. That man has no secrets your mother could use against him. He is a rare creature in the halls of power, a blunt, honest, thoroughly clean man.”

  “It sounds as if there may be a few others. Sad that one has to
hunt them down in such a convoluted manner though.”

  “So what do you plan to do?”

  “Go and kick my mother out of my house.” He grinned. “I shall thoroughly enjoy that.”

  “You do not think it would be best if she remained where you could find her? You have not yet gained what you need to hold her own crimes and the threat of punishment over her head and thus confine her.”

  “Not quite.” Brant frowned even as he took the quill Andras offered and signed the papers. “I will give her a reprieve of a few weeks to pack her things, sort her affairs, and then move to one of her dower properties. My mother would never just flee. She requires her comforts, her society, her shops. She would never just run and hide, either, for she is blindly arrogant. I think she has held power over too many for too long and thinks herself beyond punishment.” He grimaced. “She may even not fully see that what she has done is wrong.”

  “Or care if it is,” Andras added softly. “If I may be direct . . .”

  “You may say whatever you wish.”

  “We are not our parents. While it is true that some illnesses of the mind and body can be carried through from parent to child, each child born of that parent does not have to carry the bad seed, if you will. You have no taint in you, m’lord. Your mother, however, does but I do not believe it is one that can be passed from mother to child.”

  “When did you meet my mother?”

  “Never. I but made it my business to be where she was from time to time after you came to me. Always know your enemy. I can see the taint in a person, the stain of guilt or madness or just disease. I can also nearly smell a lie. Your mother was a very difficult person for me to be close to but what twists her into what she is is not one of the things that can be passed on to a child. I think you are very fortunate that she was never maternal for such a taint could, through many different means, eventually stain a child even if it does not come through the blood.”

  “I have slowly come to realize that. None of my siblings have her coldness, as Artemis calls it. Not one. My older sisters are hard and bitter but that is the fault of their husbands. My younger brothers are good boys and Agatha is a sweet, loving girl. None of that came from my mother.” He smiled a little sadly. “It is sad, is it not, that one can actually find oneself grateful that one’s parents never actually had anything to do with them.”