If He's Dangerous

by Hannah Howell

  “Ah, Olympia returns and she has brought company,” said Iago as he stared out the window.

  Argus set aside the papers he had been reading and moved to the window. “Interfering woman.”

  “Undoubtedly, but, by the look of it, she did it because Lady Lorelei was out wandering about without any guard. It looks as if Todd waits to escort her home.” He looked at Argus. “Do you not have a few things to say to her before she leaves?”

  “I should leave it as it is,” Argus said even as he hurried out of the room to catch Lorelei before she went too far.

  He nearly ran right into Olympia as he hurried out the door. Grumbling at her about how she should mind her own business, he stepped around her and went to catch up with Lorelei. He had no idea of what to say to her, knew it would probably be best for both of them if he just allowed her to think him a rutting swine she was better off without, but he could not let her go.

  “Lorelei,” he said as he caught her by the arm. “Walk with me in the garden for a little while before you go home.”

  The first thing that entered her mind when he said that was how he had mentioned the old oak in the garden as a perfect place for a tryst. “Why?” she demanded.

  Argus smiled in what he hoped was an inviting way, with a hint of apology behind it. “To talk.” He tugged on her arm and, after a moment of resistance, she started to walk to the garden with him.

  Lorelei glanced behind her and did not see Todd anywhere. Men, she thought, were all allies when it came to matters of romance. The odd one out knew how to play least in sight. Determined not to simply fall into his arms, she moved away from him the moment they entered the garden and sat on a bench, away from the oak tree.

  “What did you think we needed to talk about?” she asked, eyeing him with suspicion when he sat down beside her.

  “So cold to me,” he murmured, “but you have some right to your anger.”

  Some? she mused. She would like to see how amiable he was if two children suddenly appeared claiming her as their mother. “I believe the fact that you have two children is something you should have told me. At the very least, before we became lovers. It was a great surprise to me when they showed up at my door.”

  “Aye, I suspect it was. I was little more than a lad who thought himself a man when I became a father, Lorelei. It is difficult to explain because I find it a little embarrassing that I could have been such a cocksure little irritant. Two mistresses, both older than I, but a nice accessory to my manliness during my first year in London. The births of Darius and then Olwen were a shock. Despite my idiocy, I did know to take care because I did not wish to become diseased. I found a way to pay both women a nice sum on a regular basis to care for the children, but as soon as they began to show their Wherlocke heritage, both women wanted nothing to do with them. I took my sons and that nice sum to Penelope.”

  “At least you saw to their welfare,” she said, finding that she did not like the tone of disgust in his voice when he talked about his younger self.

  “I tried, but did not keep a close enough eye on matters to realize Penelope was being robbed of most of the funds I and others sent her to care for the children, or to see that heaping that responsibility on such a young girl was very wrong. That has since been sorted out, but, in the years that I continued to live my life as I pleased, albeit with a lot less cockiness and need to show the world I was a man, I lost them.”

  “No, Argus, you have not lost them, you but share them.”

  He looked at her. “I suppose that is true, but it is still due to the fact that I was a negligent father who was far too interested in his own life. And, please, do not tell me that I was young, for that is no real excuse. I revealed my Wherlocke blood in my casual neglect of my own offspring.”

  “Wherlocke blood indeed,” she muttered wondering how a grown, intelligent man could be so wrongheaded. “You were an unmarried gentleman and they were not your heirs. Most men would have forgotten them the moment they climbed out of their mothers’ beds. You at least saved them from their mothers’ fear and the streets. They love you, so you cannot have failed so badly. You will always have to share them though but not because of what you did.”

  “What do you mean? I left them with Penelope, allowed that young girl to raise them.”

  “And she was clearly a good choice. You must share them more because of the children that joined them there. Each one of them arrived because they had been rejected by the one person who should have loved them no matter what, their mother. Each time a child arrived those who knew exactly what he was suffering met him and they gathered him into the flock. That is their bond and that is what you share them with.

  “It appears that many of the adults in your family have suffered as well, but I doubt it was something that was discussed with the young children. Children understand each other better anyway. So they held on to each other, protected each other, and eased each other’s pain. You could have been with them almost all the time and I doubt you could have conquered that bond once it was made. I doubt it will ever break.”

  He kissed her. “You have a wonderful way of seeing what others cannot, seeing into the heart of it all. You are right. They have a bond nothing will change. I saw it, but I did not look hard enough. The only little girl that is in the group was sheltered and coddled by the children from the moment she arrived. They even stood between her and her mother, who was tossing her into Penelope’s lap while calling the poor babe the devil and all manner of nonsense. Penelope told me that they all looked at the woman and told her she could just go away, that Jude was theirs now. I was touched by the tale and proud of the children, but I did not really understand what had happened.”

  “They claimed her.”

  “That they did, as the ones who had come before claimed each one that followed.”

  He put his arm around her, relieved that she did not pull away, did not even tense. What he wanted to do was make love to her, but not because she stirred his desire by simply sitting there smelling so sweet. He wanted to make sure that he had not lost the passion they had shared. Cautiously he stood up, took her by the hands, and pulled her to her feet.

  “You were right to be angry,” he said as he took slow steps backward toward the oak tree. “I should have told you before we became lovers. I love my sons, but sometimes I look at them and see that arrogant little fool that I was then and it pains me. It was not something I wanted you to see in me. Now, I wish to apologize to you properly.”

  Lorelei eyed the oak looming up beside them and shook her head. “If you are leading me behind that tree, I doubt a proper apology is what you intend, you rogue.”

  He grinned as he pulled her behind the huge trunk, immediately hiding them from the view of anyone in the house. Argus gently pushed her up against the trunk and kissed her. When she slipped her arms around his neck, pressing her soft curves against him, the tight ball of worry that had settled in his stomach from the moment he had seen her with his sons, faded away. Her passion for him still burned hot.

  Lorelei briefly wondered if she was giving in too easily, forgiving him too quickly, and then decided she was not. He had spoken of how the boys had come to be, even shared his disgust with the boy he had been back then. It was neither of those things that touched her heart, however. It was his saying that he had not wanted her to see him as the boy he had been back then. He did not want to be diminished in her eyes, and a man did not worry about such things unless the woman and her opinions mattered.

  Letting a little gasp of pleasure escape her as he nuzzled her breasts, she decided it was good to forgive. It also allowed her to begin her campaign to show him that he was loved, loved for all he was, and even for that arrogant man-child he had once been. If Olympia was right, Argus wanted that and she intended to give him so much love that he found himself craving it.

  Lorelei basked in the heat of the desire he stirred within her. She only flinched briefly in surprise when he slid his hand between her
legs to stroke her. Desire swept away the momentary flare of unease over such a personal touch and she quickly welcomed his touch, welcomed the passion it brewed in her.

  “Wrap your legs around my waist, sweetheart,” Argus said as he undid his breeches, not surprised that his fingers were clumsy, for he was shaking with the need to be inside her.

  “Should we not lie down?” she asked even as she did as he asked.

  “Ah, love, you will learn that there are many ways to find the delight we both crave.”

  When he joined their bodies with one swift thrust, Lorelei decided he was right. Her last clear thought as she drowned in the desire they shared was to wonder exactly how many ways there were.

  “I think I should go to the gatehouse and shoot him,” said the duke as he watched Lorelei slip up to the house and disappear through one of the lesser-used doors.

  “I believe that might upset her, Your Grace,” said Max.

  “When I decided to just step back and not insist upon proprieties or traditional wooing, I had hoped this would not happen. Do you have any doubt that he has ruined her?”

  “None at all, although I would quibble over the use of the word ruined.”

  Roland turned around to glare at his butler and best friend. “You saw her. Are you going to try and tell me that she has not been indulging in a very hearty tryst?”

  “Not at all.”

  “I could not deny her the chances to see him. He was the one who put that shine in her eyes. Perhaps that was a mistake.”

  “Shine, Your Grace?”

  “Shine, glow, sparkle.” He waved one hand in the air. “Life. Lorelei is three and twenty and has been wooed by some very fine men, yet there was never that glow, that interest that makes the eyes shine. The first time I heard her say his name I saw that shine. At last my daughter had found the right man, the one that made her feel alive.”

  “He is obviously doing a fine job of it.”

  “Max! She is his lover. I would be willing to bet on it.”

  “And I would be a fool to take that bet for I would lose.”

  “He should be here asking me for her hand in marriage.”

  “He should, but it will be a while before that happens. The man believes that what he is dooms any marriage he may make. Lady Olympia whispered that to me a day or so after she arrived and quickly saw how the wind was blowing. He has seen nothing but misery in the marriages in his family up until the more recent ones. He thinks of it as the Wherlocke curse. Vaughns, too, I suppose, if what I read was correct. Lorelei has to change his mind.”

  The duke frowned. “There have been bad marriages in the family?”

  “Many of them with wives leaving husbands and husbands leaving wives and none of them taking the children with them or having anything to do with them. If one carefully studies the information you have on them, it is there to see. The gifts they have are passed on to whatever children they have and that appears to be the breaking point in many a marriage.”

  “Sad, but what does that have to do with him marrying Lorelei?”

  “Do you wish to marry again after your experience with your last wife?”

  “Damn my eyes, no. So what happens? Do I just sit back until she presents me with a fatherless grandchild?”

  “No. He will come to his senses before that happens. I have watched them, Your Grace. The man will probably not admit it, but he is besotted. He may try to leave, but he will be back.”

  “I hope you are right, Max, because I really do not wish to shoot him. It is messy, it will make Lorelei cry, and I do rather like the fellow even if he is seducing my daughter.”

  Chapter 14

  “Father, Axel and Wolfgang want us to go fishing with them.”

  Argus looked at his sons and then looked out the window of the parlor that overlooked the front of the gatehouse. The duke, a half a dozen children, and a morose Mr. Pendleton all stood waiting. His sons had been at Sundunmoor for only three days and yet they had already been accepted into the fold. Argus was not sure what to make of that, but could not deny the boys a day of fishing.

  “Go on then,” he said, “but behave yourselves. Do not repay the duke’s kindness with mischief and bad manners.”

  “I will go with them,” said Stefan and followed the boys out.

  Argus watched the group walk away. Stefan strode beside the duke, obviously already deep in some discussion with the man. He recalled what Darius had said concerning the duke’s aura. The boy had claimed that it made you want to smile. Argus could not argue with that. For all of his eccentricities, the duke was truly a good man, one who cared well for his people and loved his small army of children, his own as well as the ones he had taken in.

  He crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. From what Lorelei had told him, two of the duke’s three marriages had not been good ones, but the man remained content with his life. Argus could not help but wonder if he could learn a few lessons from that, and then shook his head. The Sunduns did not have to deal with the curse that burdened the Vaughns and the Wherlockes. His children would never tell him that some ghost was seated at the table, or make the vicar take his talk of devils and damnation back to the church and never return, or look at her father and ask why Mother had made love to a man who was not her husband on the settee in the morning room. Olympia tended to jest about that now, but he knew the furious loathing her mother had heaped upon her that day could still sting when it ghosted through her memory.

  And just why did reminding himself of all that old misery make him want to go and find Lorelei? he asked himself. The answer quickly came to him. She soothed him, eased the old pains, and made him think, if only for a little while, that he might be able to live a normal life with a loving wife and children. It was a shame that she was the daughter of a duke, a stinking rich duke at that. He was not a good choice for any woman, but certainly not for one who could have any man in the kingdom. Just thinking of Lorelei with another tied his stomach into knots. He really needed to make up his mind about what to do with her, aside from getting her naked, he thought wryly.

  “Ah, there you are.”

  Argus looked at Leopold, but his pleasure over being pulled out of his thoughts faded fast with one look at Leopold’s serious expression. “Is there some new trouble?”

  Leopold handed him a letter. As Argus read what their cousin Andras Vaughn had written his blood ran cold. Other members of their family were being watched and followed. Someone had already attempted to grab Andras right off the street in front of his home.

  “So, even though the one after me still lurks around here, whoever began this now tries to grab someone else. We had considered that, but I had strongly hoped that we would be proved wrong.”

  “So had I.” Leopold glanced over the second letter he held. “There is also some good news. My people believe they now know who is behind this. The man is being watched very carefully.”

  Argus was not sure how good it could be when Leopold was looking at the letter as if it said that anyone who touched it would contract the pox. “Anyone I know?”

  “Sir Sidney Chuffington.”

  “That little bastard! Now I understand why I was tricked so easily. That is the man I asked to look into whether Cornick could be trusted or not.” Argus felt like an utter fool for a moment, and then realized he could not have had any idea, for all he had done was ask the man the government trusted to do what he did best, find information on someone.

  “And what he gave you all appeared quite well documented, I suspect. Chuffington was always good with documentation.”

  “What I do not understand is why he would do this.”

  “Power. He is close enough to the top and all of its secrets to learn how our gifts can and are used. He wants all that under his fist. Or, from what you told us, he thinks he can take those gifts and use them to get him the power he craves. Who knows, perhaps money and women as well. As I said, he is now being watched very closely. He will not be a problem for l
ong. And we may have finally discovered who Charles Cornick is.”

  “Do not tell me that the duke has failed to collect information on some family in this country.”

  Leopold grinned. “Oh, no. The man’s papers and books are a treasure, one I have now been given permission to peruse whenever I please. King and country, you know.”

  “One day you will finally beat that horse to death. So, what have you discovered about Cornick?”

  “Your Charles Cornick may actually be William Charles Cornick Wendall the Third.”

  “Well, no wonder we could not find him. We were using the wrong name. Related to the fool who is letting his fine country house rot while he bleeds his lands and tenants dry?”

  “The man’s brother. Cornick acts as his brother’s steward and is a minor clerk in Chuffington’s office, although it seems he has had to retire to the country because of a sick relative. As far as we can tell the Wendall who actually owns that property has no idea what is going on, or what his brother has been doing. He trusts his brother, the fool, and fancies himself a man chosen by God to bring the Bible to the poor pagan natives of the world. At the moment and for the last three months, he has been in Africa. Preaching, I suppose.”

  “It appears that all this trouble may soon come to an end.” Argus was pleased, so did not understand why his heart felt as if someone’s fist was squeezing it.

  “Ye-es, and so you can bid adieu to the fair Lorelei and run back to your life as it ever was. Empty.”

  Argus blinked in surprise at the thread of anger in Leo’s voice. “I am not a good choice for Lorelei.”

  “She plainly disagrees or she would not be slipping over here each night to meet you in the garden.”