The Rogue's Seduction

by Georgina Devon

  Three shadows moved in the darkness between two buildings, but no one came forward. What is going on here, he thought, finally beginning to think about where he was and that he was alone. He was a brave man and not particularly afraid, but hoodlums attacked in gangs. Even he, with his cane and the sword it hid, would be hard pressed to fight off a large number of men.

  ‘Who goes there?’ he demanded, forgetting about the possibility of a horse.

  He turned to face the opposite side of the street. One of the shadows separated from the others and came forward, empty hands held up in the dim light provided by the moon and stars. No gas lamps lit the road here.

  ‘Jus’ me, guv. Wonderin’ if ye’d have a bit o’ money for a starvin’ man?’

  Perth watched the man approach. The other two shadows, men, edged outward on each side of the one coming towards him. Perth flexed his gloved fingers. His leg muscles tightened. The bite of cold air on his face, the tang of soot on his tongue and the chance of danger to his life combined to energise him. This was living for him. This is how he felt with Lillith. The realisation hit him like a blow and took his breath away. No wonder he wanted her so badly. She made him feel alive, as though his life was worth living.

  The thugs moved closer, forcing Perth to pay attention to the present. ‘I’ve nothing for you,’ he said flatly. ‘Take your friends and be gone before something happens that you will regret.’

  The man stopped while the other two came forward and edged to either side of Perth. In one smooth slide, Perth pulled the sword from the cane. The steel shone sharply in the dim light. The advancing men paused, then rushed forward as one.

  Perth backed up until the building was behind him, then stood his ground. The sword flashed as he countered the attack that had started in earnest. He felt steel hit flesh and one of the men yelped.

  ‘Gor, ’e’s got me. The devil take ’im.’

  That man staggered and turned aside leaving two men. Perth’s mouth twisted into a wicked grin. The odds were getting better.

  ‘Leave now,’ he said through clenched teeth, ‘and no one else will be hurt.’

  The two remaining thugs fell back, but did not depart. He heard them muttering and braced himself for another attack. It came as soon as he had anticipated. The sword flashed and the one on his right dropped the cudgel that had been raised above his head poised to strike. The heavy wood hit the ground with a thud and the man who had held it whirled away, a stream of filthy language pouring from his mouth like bilge running down a sewer.

  Perth watched the second man flee. ‘You are by yourself now. Do you think you can do what three of you could not?’

  The man slunk back. Perth stepped forward and picked the cudgel up in his left hand.

  ‘’Twas suppose ta be easy,’ the man growled. ‘Nothin’ ta worry about. That be w’at the cove said. Damn ’im.’

  ‘Ahh, the light dawns.’ He could turn this to his advantage, Perth thought. ‘I will double whatever you were offered to harm me if you will take me to the man who hired you.’ Even though the light was bad, Perth would swear he could see avarice tighten the other man’s face. ‘That will give you my money and what the other has already paid you up front. And you will share it with no one.’

  The thug rubbed his jaw. ‘T’at’s a idea. But w’at’s to insure you’ll pay me? Got the blunt on ye?’

  The man was definitely greedy. Perth reached into the inside pocket of his coat and pulled out a leather bag that jangled. He tossed it to the thief. ‘My first installment. Tell me when and where you are to collect the second part of your fee for tonight’s work and I will meet you there. Then you will get more from me, and I will meet face to face with the man who arranged this attack.’

  The scoundrel eyed Perth warily. ‘And ’ow do I know you ain’t just sayin’ this to get away?’

  Perth laughed outright; the idea was ludicrous. ‘Because I could run you through where you stand without a moment’s hesitation.’

  The man took several rapid steps back.

  ‘But I want positive proof of who hired you and your word is not enough. Besides which, he probably did not even give you his name. Very likely he did not even hire you himself.’

  ‘Five this mornin’,’ the man said in a rush and named a place near Nightingale Inn in the East End. A very unsavoury place, but popular with the young bucks. Perth knew the area well.

  ‘I will be there. Now be gone.’

  Not until the man was well away did Perth sheath his sword. The cudgel he kept, a grim smile making him look sinister. He would take it with him to the meeting.

  By the time he entered his own foyer, it was nearly time to turn around. Fitch, who acted as butler and valet, met Perth at the door.

  ‘My lord,’ Fitch said, turning his nose up. ‘You are drenched.’

  Perth peeled his coat off and then his gloves. His beaver hat was ruined. He handed Fitch his cane. ‘This will need cleaning.’

  Fitch’s eyes widened momentarily, but he said nothing.

  Perth grinned. ‘Yes, I saw some action.’

  ‘Luckily for you this is the first time. Some of the places you frequent are less than pleasant.’

  Perth laughed out right. ‘Since I have attempted to take up with Lady de Lisle, my life has been one great adventure.’

  ‘Lady de Lisle? Surely she is not the reason you had to use this sword.’ He pulled the weapon from its case and studied the dried blood. ‘A good cleaning and oil will make it good as new. Although…’ he held it to a candle ‘…it appears to be nicked. A whetstone will fix that.’

  ‘Make it quick, Fitch. You and I have a meeting in less than an hour in a disreputable part of town and we might find that cane a life-saver.’

  Fitch turned and headed to the kitchen while Perth mounted the stairs two at a time, headed for his chambers.

  Inside his rooms, he stripped quickly and donned clean, dry clothes with no concern that they were not fashionably tight. ’Twas better to have loose clothing in case he found himself in a dangerous situation again, and he could easily dress himself without Fitch’s help. All the time, his mind whirled.

  He felt excited and alive. The sense of danger and accomplishment combined to make him aware of everything around him, the heat of the fire, the sound of the wind blowing by his window. This is how he felt with Lillith, ready to take on anything, but he had not recognised the heady delight he took in her company for the same aggressive pursuit of accomplishment he had felt in the army. No wonder he wanted her so badly.

  He missed being in the army and the camaraderie along with the knowledge that he did something useful. London and the pursuits of a man of leisure had bored him, and he had not even let himself realise that. Lillith had given him a goal, something to strive for. Now this situation with her brother—for he had no doubt Wentworth was behind the attack on him—gave him another reason to win her.

  He had to be right about Wentworth having spent all of Lillith’s settlement from de Lisle. There could be no other reason for her brother trying to push her into marriage. But why did the man want him out of the way when he had only recently tried to marry her to him? Very likely because Wentworth knew Perth would not pay the brother’s debts as de Lisle had and another man might.

  He went to his wardrobe and grabbed a navy greatcoat. The less conspicuous he was the better.

  Downstairs, Fitch waited with the cleaned sword replaced in the cane. Perth took the weapon and put a new beaver hat on his head at a rakish angle.

  ‘Like old times, my lord,’ Fitch said, a gleam of anticipation lightening his face.

  ‘Have you ordered horses brought around?’

  ‘Of course,’ Fitch said, drawing up in affront. ‘We might not be in the army now, my lord, but I still know how to prepare.’

  The area of London they shortly found themselves in was not a place to leave two thoroughbred horses without having someone stand guard.

  ‘Here, you,’ Fitch said, motioning to a
youth standing in front of the pubs. ‘Watch our mounts and you will be well paid.’

  ‘Better paid than if you steal them,’ Perth added, flipping a coin toward the boy who caught the money with alacrity.

  The youth bit on the metal. ‘The real thing.’

  ‘See you do as we say,’ Fitch emphasised, ‘or you will be the sorrier for not.’

  The boy gave Fitch a scornful look, but he held tight to the reins of the two horses.

  Not waiting to hear the final words between his servant and the street urchin, Perth headed to the corner where the thug had said he was to meet the man who had hired him. Along the way, Perth saw several youths he knew in passing. One of them waved at him, but Perth ignored him and kept going. The young man did not follow.

  Rather than stand obviously where the meeting was to take place, Perth positioned himself back away and in the shadow. Fitch soon joined him, his hand on the pistol he kept primed in his pocket. The thief arrived shortly after, but the man responsible was late.

  Twenty minutes passed. The thief began to fidget, but Perth and Fitch remained steady. Perth decided the tardiness was something Wentworth would do to a lackey he considered unimportant. He would not be surprised if Wentworth did not show. As far as Wentworth was concerned, the deed was done and to meet the thug and pay him the second half of the money would be a waste of blunt Wentworth did not have. The thief would never be able to find Wentworth so the man was safe.

  After sixty minutes, Perth stepped forward. ‘’Tis unlikely that you will ever again see the man who hired you.’

  The man had an ugly look on his face. ‘Flash cove, ’e’d better ’ope he don’t see me again.’ His head tilted and a calculating look sharpened his narrow face. ‘’Ow about the blunt you owe me?’

  Perth’s face sharpened. ‘I have already paid you as much as I intend to. The second half was dependent upon my meeting the man who hired you. That has not happened.’

  The man took a menacing step forward.

  ‘I would not do that if I were you,’ Fitch said, moving from the shadow where he had remained. ‘I have a primed pistol in my pocket, and I won’t hesitate to use it.’

  The man backed down, but greed still sharpened his features. ‘W’at if I finds the cove?’

  Perth shook his head. ‘Not good enough. I want to confront the bastard myself.’

  The thug grunted acknowledgment of Perth’s desire, but did not back away.

  ‘We are leaving now,’ Perth said. ‘Do not follow us.’

  The man flashed a crooked grin that showed brown teeth, where he had them. ‘Wouldn’t think o’ it, guv.’

  But he watched them collect their horses and he heard one of the flash coves who frequented the nearby pub call the dangerous man Perth. Wouldn’t take too much to find his lordship again, for he had no doubt the man was a lord. He was too arrogant not to be.

  Perth rode silently home. Fitch followed. Not until they were inside and Perth was unceremoniously throwing clothes into a duffel did either speak.

  ‘My lord,’ Fitch said aghast. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘I am packing.’ Perth dug in a drawer for a clean shirt. ‘Where did you put my shaving kit?’

  Fitch fetched it from the shaving stand where it stood in perfect sight. ‘Where are you going? And what are you going to do about the person who paid to have you hurt?’

  Perth cinched the saddlebag. ‘I am going after Lady de Lisle who has gone to the country. As for the person who wanted me hurt, I have a good idea who he is.’ A fierce grin creased his cheek. ‘I intend to deal with him yet.’

  Fitch nodded in satisfaction. ‘Wentworth is where I’d put my blunt.’

  Perth gave his man a narrowed look. ‘How do you know so much?’

  ‘Has to be.’ Fitch picked up one of the shirts Perth had discarded in his search for a cravat. ‘You are chasing his sister, and he has never wanted you in the family.’ He gave Perth a knowing look. ‘He has already managed to do harm to you once before.’

  Perth’s face hardened. ‘I was young and stupid then. Ten years have made a vast difference.’

  Fitch nodded. ‘Now you carry a cane with a sword at all times.’

  ‘Just so.’ Perth slung the saddlebag over his shoulder and strode from the room. ‘Don’t expect me until you see me,’ he said.

  Chapter Twelve

  Lillith stood naked before her mirror. Multi-branched candelabra flanked both sides of the glass and the fire added more illumination as well as warmth. She turned so that her side was reflected and studied her profile.

  Was her stomach slightly rounded instead of nearly concave as it had been? She ran her palms over what she perceived to be a slight bulge. She was over three months. Surely she showed. And soon she should feel the babe move. Perth’s child. Her child. She felt a quiver of excitement.

  The door slammed open.

  Lillith crossed her arms over her hips and spun around, intending to severely berate whoever had the effrontery to barge into her private rooms. She gasped. Perth stood framed in the doorway.

  ‘Oh, my lady,’ Agatha begged, standing on tiptoe behind the Earl and peering over his shoulder. ‘I’m ever so sorry. He barged in the front door and climbed the stairs before anyone knew what he was about. He would not wait.’ She wrung her hands and tried to push past the Earl, who effectively blocked the entrance.

  Lillith’s teeth began to chatter with suppressed anger. She twisted around and grabbed the robe tossed across a nearby settee. She yanked it on.

  ‘Leave us, Agatha,’ she said. ‘You did nothing wrong.’

  She did not order Perth gone, for she knew by the look on his face that he was not leaving. He moved into the room and carefully shut the door behind himself. That very controlled action told her how furious he really was. His hair glowed damply and water from his greatcoat puddled on the pale green carpet. His Hessians were muddy. He looked as though he had ridden a great distance without regard to the inclement weather.

  ‘You are bold and your lack of manners more than apparent,’ she said coldly, hoping to sting his pride.

  He stripped off his greatcoat and threw it across the nearest chair. Fleetingly, Lillith thought the water on the garment would stain the finely embroidered upholstery but it could be replaced easily enough.

  ‘You left without a word.’

  His eyes bored into hers before his gaze dropped to her belly. He stepped forward and it was all Lillith could do not to edge back and away from his advancement. Clenching her hands in the robe’s belt, she stood her ground.

  ‘I don’t owe you any explanation of my comings and goings.’ She lifted her chin and hoped that the trepidation making her giddy did not show in her voice.

  He did not stop advancing until he stood scant inches from her. The tang of cold air and rain mingled with the familiar awareness of him. The urge to sway into him was great, even though anger at his method of entering her house still made her jaw ache from clenching it too much and too tight. She was so weak where he was concerned.

  ‘You are carrying my child.’

  His voice was deep and dark and dangerous. His eyes were black pools. Without warning, he gripped her shoulders and pulled the robe down to her waist. Her hands on the belt kept him from stripping the garment completely from her.

  ‘How dare you!’ she said, using one hand to futilely try to pull the silk back up to cover her breasts.

  ‘I dare a lot for you and the child you carry,’ he said. ‘Too much,’ he said harshly. ‘Too much.’

  She stared at him, taken aback by the hunger and need she saw in his face.

  ‘Does that surprise you?’ he asked bitterly. ‘Well, not as much as it does me. I thought I was over you.’

  His gaze ravished her, moving over the mounds of her breasts and making them swell with desire. She longed for his touch, at her bosom and at her loins. But…

  ‘Do you love me?’ she finally asked, the words barely a whisper as she forced them th
rough the constriction in her throat.

  His gaze came back to her face. ‘No.’

  ‘Ah…’

  The word tore from her like the moan of a dying creature. Pain ripped through her. She thought he had made her suffer before, but nothing like this final renunciation. She would slap him if she could, but her arms were pinned to her sides by the garment that his large hands still kept at her waist.

  ‘Get out,’ she said. ‘Get out of my life and do not ever dare to come back.’ She pulled in a ragged breath. ‘Or I will have you horsewhipped.’

  His face turned murderous. ‘As your brother did?’

  She blanched. ‘You lie. Mathias has many faults but he would never do that.’

  He sneered. ‘You say you would. Why do you suppose he would not do the same?’

  ‘Get out,’ she ordered, wrenching from his grasp.

  The shrill rip of silk filled the air. She was free from his hold, but stood naked before him.

  ‘Get out,’ she said again, forcing air into her labouring lungs. He stared at her, his gaze roving over her like a hot wave of passion.

  He swallowed hard and turned on his heel and left.

  Lillith watched in disbelief as he walked away. The door swung shut behind him. Silence surrounded her like a suffocating blanket. Cold assaulted her even though the fire blazed and the windows were shut and the curtains drawn. She wrapped her arms around herself and squeezed. Shivering, she picked up the remnants of her robe and tossed it into a corner. The sight of it was too disturbing. She crossed to a wardrobe and drew out another robe and donned it. Only then did she allow herself to collapse on to the settee.

  Her eyes were huge as she stared into the leaping orange flames of the fire. How could she have threatened to have him whipped like a common cur? No matter what he had said to her or what he had done, he was a man.

  Had Mathias really had him whipped? She cringed at the possibility. But it would explain the scars on his back.