by Sara Bennett
“It was the same at school. He protected me from the bullies, made sure I wasn’t too homesick. I relied on him . . . too much. When we came home again, nothing had changed, our father was probably more distant than ever, and spent most of his time reading in his study or walking the countryside. He didn’t need us, barely acknowledged us.
“Anthony stayed down here, running the estate, quite happy with country life. When our father died, I was off in London, enjoying myself. I had a substantial allowance and saw no need to spend it wisely, and I found plenty of people who were only too willing to help me spend it. I was a fool, but I was a happy fool, or so I thought.
“Then I met Evelyn.”
Tina waited while he sought a starting point to the next part of his story. She was not surprised to hear about his wild years—it was part of his current reputation as a rake, and the reason he was an expert on what women wanted from their men. Not an expert on me, though.
“Evelyn was an actress. Not a famous one but she had a number of parts in famous plays and musicals. The gentlemen flocked to see her, as you can imagine. She was just as beautiful then as she is now, and hard not to notice. I set her up in her own little house, paid her bills, bought her clothing and jewelry. She seemed content with the arrangement—I think she’d done the same before with several other men.
“She just happened to be in my rooms one day when Anthony turned up, and he was smitten. She gave the impression that she was, too.”
“That must have hurt you.”
Richard gave a humorless laugh. “I was jealous and hurt. My own brother—the brother I looked on more as a father—had taken the woman I believed myself in love with. I see now that it wasn’t as simple as that. Evelyn later admitted that she’d been interested in Anthony all along, he was the heir and had more to offer her than I, and when she had the chance she made her move.”
“She still believes you are her property, you do know that?” Tina said dryly. “She warned me off. Do you have an understanding with her?”
Tina didn’t know what she expected him to say but she squeezed her hands into fists as she waited.
“Tina”—and his voice sounded weary—“Evelyn is the most entirely self-centered person I have ever had the misfortune to encounter, and I will celebrate the day I finally get her out of my life.”
Her tension eased, and she found herself tucking a hand under her cheek, moving a little closer to where Richard was lying.
“But I have an obligation,” he went on, choosing his words carefully. “If not to Evelyn, then to my brother. He loved her, poor fool, and he would want me to look after her.”
Richard was an honorable man, Tina already knew that, but it was a shame he couldn’t be a little less honorable where Evelyn was concerned. Although if he had been, Tina admitted to herself, she wouldn’t love him.
She sighed. Yes, difficult as it was to acknowledge, she did love him. Did that make her a fool, too, like Anthony?
“When he confessed to me that he and Evelyn were going to be married, Anthony tried to make it up to me. He knew how betrayed I felt—I was a selfish creature, I admit it, but I suppose I’d only ever had my brother to look up to and to care for me. To have him suddenly betray me, as I saw it, was desperately painful. He apologized over and over again and said he would do anything to make up for his action. But he was unable to give me the one thing I really wanted. So I turned my back on him and refused to see him.
“I didn’t know it then, but Anthony had been recruited by a group called the Guardians; they work for the government in matters that require secrecy.”
“You mean spies?” she said ironically. “I think I gathered that.”
“Anthony had a mission to find a man known only as the Captain. I think he did find him and was following him, but the Captain found out and, his identity under threat, struck out and killed Anthony. He was found here, not far from the house. They brought him home, and incredibly he was still alive. His wife didn’t send word to me, so I never knew. He lived for three days and never regained consciousness. He died here without my being able to tell him how much he meant to me and how sorry I was. I know he was unconscious but . . . it would have meant a great deal to me to see him once more.”
Tina was shocked. It was obvious Evelyn wasn’t a nice person but to do such a thing was cruel. She felt angry tears stinging her eyes and wiped them away with her sleeve.
“The servants were here, too, and were like family to him, after our mother died. You mustn’t think he was alone with no one but Evelyn. They made his last days as comfortable and bearable as possible. I know, because they told me.”
“What happened next?” Tina demanded huskily.
“When Anthony died, I was recruited by Sir Henry into the Guardians, and I learned that his death was probably due to the Captain. I vowed then that I would not claim any part of his legacy—the house, the rights as heir—and I would not make a happy life for myself by marrying—I knew I didn’t deserve to be happy—until I found the man who had killed my brother and brought him to justice.”
“Oh,” she said softly. “The promise. Now I understand.”
She was ashamed to think how she’d disregarded his promise, thought it nothing important, and persuaded him to break his vow for her own pleasure. He hadn’t been lying to her, not then at least. He’d been frank and honest. If anyone should feel mortified, then it was Tina.
“I couldn’t tell you everything. I’ve never spoken of my work outside the Guardians. Can you forgive me, Tina? I know I’m asking a great deal, I know I’ve hurt you and made you distrust me, but I want us to be friends again, at least.”
If she were Evelyn, no doubt she would use this moment to her full advantage, extracting all sorts of promises from him, making him beg and grovel, but Tina wasn’t Evelyn. And she didn’t want revenge. She just wanted him.
With a soft cry, Tina threw herself into his arms.
Chapter 37
Richard began to kiss her, desperate to return to the heady days he’d spent with her at Arlington Hall, when his life finally looked to be sailing out of rougher seas and into calmer waters. She seemed more than willing to oblige him, and as he cupped her breast through her nightgown, stroking the taut nipple, she moaned softly.
Suddenly neither of them was able to bear clothing between them, and he was tugging at her nightgown while she was tearing at his shirt, both frantic in their efforts to be naked. Their mouths fused, hot and needy, and he grasped the soft globes of her bottom and drew her against him, so that she could feel the rigid length of his erection.
She was already wet and ready for him, and moments later he was entering her. She welcomed him in, hooking her leg over his hip and pushing against him. The sideways position was new to her, but she didn’t seem to be fazed by it, not his Tina.
“Marvelous girl,” he gasped, his mouth open against her breast, suckling her as she let her head fall back and moaned in ecstasy.
“Splendid man,” she managed, and then one more thrust and she was shattering around him, her body quivering while he groaned into the soft place between her shoulder and neck, one of the places he’d been dreaming of these past few days.
It was over all too soon for Richard’s liking.
She curled against him, as if she wished she could enter his skin, and although her unbound hair was tickling his nose, he didn’t move. Not an inch. He loved her, and she loved him, and all he needed now was to capture Sutton, bring the Captain to justice, and take possession of his home from Evelyn.
Not a great deal to ask.
Sutton crept toward the bed, and it wasn’t until he’d reached it and stood, staring down on the shape under the covers that he realized he’d been tricked. It was too late then of course. He felt the barrel of a pistol pressing painfully into his kidneys.
“Who are you?” a voice rasped, but even so he could tell it was a woman. Was this the little lady he’d come for? He didn’t think so. He couldn’t imagi
ne her with a gun at his back.
“I’m a friend of Miss Smythe,” he said with a rough laugh. “Didn’t she tell you I’d be visiting her tonight?”
The gun pressed harder, but he remained still, and then it was withdrawn. He heard her step back but wasn’t inclined to try to overpower her, not until he knew what he was dealing with.
“Turn around,” she hissed.
Slowly, carefully, he turned to face her and wondered if his surprise was evident on his face. It was the beautiful lady of the house, her bright hair like flame around her shoulders, a shawl over her nightdress, her feet bare on the bedroom floor. He spent a moment in silent admiration before raising his gaze to hers and found her eyes as cold and heartless as he knew his own to be.
It seemed they were well matched.
“You’re no friend of Miss Smythe. You’re the one they’ve been talking about, the one who’s come to kidnap her. Or kill her.”
It wasn’t a question.
Sutton gave a little bow, expecting any moment to hear her call out for help or to feel a bullet plowing through his flesh and bone. But neither happened.
“I don’t like Miss Smythe,” she said at last. “She is interfering with my own plans. I’m not going to stop you taking her. But you might want to try the room at the end there.” She nodded over her shoulder toward the farther part of the house. “And you might want to wait until my brother-in-law has finished with her.” And then she smiled at him.
He felt his body harden instantly and made a move toward her, but the pistol came up, perfectly steady, aimed with deadly accuracy.
“I’m not interested,” she said. “I’ve always found intercourse overvalued. Make use of Miss Smythe instead, I’m sure she won’t mind.”
Sutton gave a guffaw. “I think I could make you interested, but another time.” He moved sideways, toward the door, and she followed his movement, the pistol trained on him. He knew he’d be back one day. She’d said she wasn’t interested in him, but she was thinking of pleasure, and he guessed she might be more interested in pain. Like him.
With a regretful smile he closed the door.
The corridor was lit by a candle behind glass, flickering slightly in the movement of air. Sutton made his way silently toward the room at the end, aware of sounds coming from inside, familiar sounds.
Good. It was just as she’d said. The woman was in there with Eversham. Well, that was useful; he could deal with them both at the same time.
“I’m sorry I made you break your promise,” Tina whispered, her cheek pressed to his. He pulled her closer. He wasn’t quite sure how he’d achieved it, and he accepted that when it came to his own ladylove he was no expert, but he was enjoying the sensation of having her compliant in his arms once more.
“Tina, I wanted to break my promise. You were just too delicious, and I couldn’t play the martyr any longer.”
She giggled. “And now we’ve broken it again.”
“Have we?” he said with pretended horror.
She smiled against his skin. “I love you. Can I say that? You told me you loved me, and I was horrible to you. With reason,” she added, lifting her face to look at him sternly. “But I do love you, and I want to tell you so every day and every night.”
“Only if I can make love to you every day and every night.” He stroked her cheek, tucking her hair behind her ear. “This business with the Captain is nearly over anyway, but even if it weren’t . . . I want to marry you. Anthony would think I’m insane refusing to be happy until his killer is caught, he’d laugh at me. I just . . . I had to . . . for his sake . . .”
She gently kissed his lips. “I know you had to, Richard, and I love you all the more for the man you are.”
He was thinking of making love to her again, only this time slowly, bringing her to her climax again and again, but suddenly she stiffened and her eyes opened wide in shock. She was looking at something just beyond his head, and sensing another person in the room, but too late to react, he tried to leap from the bed.
The blow was savage and took him hard on the crown of his head, and the next thing he knew he was drowning in darkness.
He fought against it, struggling to the surface again and again, only to be dragged back down. But slowly, through waves of pain and nausea, Richard fought his way one last time to the surface and pulled himself onto land.
He opened his eyes.
Someone was holding his hand and his head and shoulders were resting in someone’s lap, with a very feminine bosom pressed to his face. Just for a moment he thought it was Tina, that she was safe, that everything was all right. And then Evelyn said:
“Richard, oh Richard, something terrible has happened!”
And he knew everything wasn’t all right after all.
Chapter 38
Tina woke to complete blackness. As if all the light had gone out of the world and she’d been left without a candle. Was she still in her bedroom at Eversham Manor? It was when she struggled to sit up that she realized her error.
Her hands were tied behind her back, and she was having trouble breathing—there was something over her head. She deliberately slowed her breathing, calming herself, and found with her mouth open she was able to get enough air into her lungs. Gradually memory returned—the man had been in her room, the man with the cold eyes and nightmare face, and he’d struck Richard.
Richard had gone limp, without a sound, and lain in her arms like one dead, and although she’d tried to help him, tried to fight for them both, a sack had been placed over her head, and she’d been carried away.
For a time lack of air, shock, or sheer terror had made her lose consciousness.
It wouldn’t happen again, she told herself determinedly, and began to tug at her wrists to see how tightly she was bound. She must escape and get back to Richard; she mustn’t let this nightmare man destroy her happiness.
“So you’re awake at last.”
The voice was unfamiliar and close. Tina jumped.
“I thought I’d kidnapped Sleeping Beauty.”
“What do you want?” she said, and found her voice a hoarse whisper. “My family has no money!”
“I don’t want your money.”
She didn’t want to ask, she really didn’t, but the words spilled out anyway. “What do you want then?”
She heard him take a step, and now he was so close she could hear him breathing. Something cold, like metal, scraped across the soft curve of her breast above her bodice, and she flinched away.
“Very nice,” the man whispered, “very nice indeed.”
“Leave me alone. Mr. Eversham will come for me, and if you hurt me, he will punish you.”
“I’m terrified.” A breathy laugh accompanied the mocking words, but at least his footsteps moved away.
Tina slumped in relief, leaning back against the hard surface where she lay—it felt like a wooden settle or bench, and when she stretched out her foot, there was a definite gap between herself and the floor below. At least her ankles weren’t bound, and if she got the chance, then she could run, although running with a sack over her head and her wrists tied wasn’t ideal.
Just then there was a pounding on the far side of the room; it sounded like a fist on a door. She heard Sutton cursing and then a shout. Richard? Had he come to save her so soon? But it wasn’t Richard. Her hopes were dashed when the door was pulled open, and Sutton and the newcomer, obviously familiar with each other, began to argue.
She could catch a few words here and there, enough for her to understand they had had a serious falling-out. Her hopes lifted; any falling-out between these villains was surely a good sign for her.
“You fool . . . I knew I’d find you here . . . predictable . . . you’ll get us all caught and . . .”
She was finding it difficult to breathe again, there didn’t seem to be enough air in the sack, and there were dark specks floating before her eyes. In a moment she would faint, and then she would be helpless to stop them if they wanted
to harm her.
Tina cried out, struggling to sit up. And then, so suddenly she was blinded by the candlelight, the sack was swept from her head, and she could breathe. And see.
Her gaze focused on the man before her. He was holding a candle, the flame flickering and smoking, but it seemed brilliantly bright after such darkness. His features were familiar but she couldn’t . . . Tina blinked and then cried out in relief.
“Mr. Little! Oh thank goodness!”
But in the next instant she realized her joy was premature. This man was not her savior. He was just another of her enemies.
The words spilled out of her aching throat, even though she knew they’d be better left unspoken. “You’re the Captain, not Horace. You’re the Captain, and now you’ll kill me just as you killed Richard’s brother.”
Little stared at her and then threw an order over his shoulder to Sutton. “Get her some water.” Sutton did his bidding, but Little took the water from him and squatted down beside her. Gently he lifted the mug to her lips and held it while she sipped, only then realizing how very thirsty she was. At last she leaned away with a sigh. “Better?” he asked with his familiar smile.
Tina did not smile back, even though it would have been simple to do so, to fall into believing him her friend. Perhaps she could pretend that all of this was a terrible mistake, just like Horace’s arrest, and after a moment all would be explained, and she could go home.
And then she remembered Richard, hurt, perhaps dead, and her eyes filled with tears.
John Little’s brow creased with concern, and he began to search in his waistcoat pocket until he found a handkerchief, using it to dab at her cheeks where the tears were trickling. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he assured her. “I know you’re afraid, but there’s no need to be. And I won’t let Sutton hurt you, either,” he added, with a savage glare in the direction of the other man.