Lords of Retribution (Lords of Avalon series)

by Richards, K. R.

  Stephen grinned, “You are anxious to get home this time. Normally you stay a week or more after returning from a mission and partake in the delights to be found here in the city.”

  “True, but I found my younger brother is here in London and that leaves my sister, Elowen, at home alone. Besides, I’ve been gone over a year, I am eager to spend the summer in the quiet of Cornwall. Perhaps I might even remember how to play my piano.” Marrek chuckled.

  “I won’t try to convince you to stay, my friend. It sounds as if you miss your home. Truth be told, your case involving Burrow lingered on too long, over four years. You came to London when needed and it has kept you from your home too often. Enjoy your summer at Penhallow. I won’t send for you unless it is absolutely unavoidable.” Lord Lyndhurst grinned at him then added, “I have heard about your piano. You have never seemed the type to me.”

  “I enjoy it,” Marrek shrugged. “And no one hears me play except the family.”

  “I remember those days when I used to be called out on his majesty’s business and gone for weeks, months, even a year at a time. Though I am the head of The Department now, and I work many hours a day, I primarily remain in London. I can come home at some point in the evening to my family. It does make a difference.”

  “I have been thinking I am getting too old for this end of our business.” Marrek raised his brow as he rose from the table. “Damn near lost my life in India this time, as I told you earlier.”

  “You’re the best man I have. You are far from old. You are much younger than I am. Rest for the summer, Marrek, you will feel differently come the fall. You and I are much alike. The craving for danger is in our blood.”

  Marrek doubted he would feel differently. He was not as fond of the danger as he once was. He had Kitty to think of now. As well as her babe. He had plenty of time to make his decision before the fall. “If I don’t see you before dawn, we will hear from one another soon, I trust.”

  “Of course you will,” Stephen laughed. “As second in command I have to keep you abreast of Department business. However, you will see me tomorrow morning. I intend to breakfast with you before you go. We are friends after all, and it’s been a year since I’ve talked to you in person. As it is, I must get to the offices early tomorrow. Have a good night, Marrek.”

  “Good night, Stephen.”

  Amelia Whitely positioned the hood of her cloak so her face would remain in shadow. In this seedy part of London, she would remain safer if none on the dark, dismal streets saw her flaming red hair or her beauty. Damn the Leader! She had waited for him for over an hour in the dingy tavern. The appointment had been made three days ago. She wanted to sell the diary of Percy’s ancestor to him and get out of London. He never showed.

  Once a member of polite society, she was no longer. She had left her bore of a husband, George, in Glastonbury and subsequently saved her lover, Percy Davitt, after the incident where he nearly perished at the hands of the Avalon Society at Stonedown Manor. She took him to safety and nursed him back to health, only to learn he had perished at the hands of the Avalon Society at Wychcombe House in London. The leader sent word to her within an hour of Percy’s death. She cleared out the London lodgings she and Percy shared immediately. He gave her the address of her current lodgings and told her she would be safe there until he could make other arrangements.

  She sold the sapphire yesterday and had not made nearly enough to set herself up in another location, perhaps Edinburgh? Dublin? She didn’t know where, only that she had to leave London. She planned to pose as a widow, change her name and try to work her way back into a small, local society somewhere far from Town where she would not be recognized. As soon as she could sell what she had to the Leader.

  Unfortunately, word of the happenings in Glastonbury had made it to the parlours of London, no doubt due to the death of the horrid Viscount Dalworth. She was in hiding, for the Avalon Society and the authorities were looking for her. Her reputation as a lady of station within society was utterly ruined.

  She clutched her reticule tightly against her body for it contained the article that would secure her future. She could not sell it to the Avalon Society. They would certainly have her arrested as Percy’s accomplice.

  The leader of the organization Percy worked for was her only option. She was highly irritated he had not kept the appointment at the tavern tonight. Of course, she had no idea who he was or what he looked like. She would have to send a message tomorrow morning to the obscure little Inn down the lane and address it to Mr. Robert Johns, which was no doubt a false name.

  She let go a sigh of relief as she reached her meager lodgings. She unlocked the door and quickly closed and locked it behind her.

  As she walked toward the simple wooden table to set down her reticule, she noticed a man sitting there, half in shadow. She let out a gasp at precisely the same moment she set her bag on the table.

  “Mrs. Jones? Or would you rather I use Mrs. Whitely? I have a key. I let myself in. You remember I procured these lodgings for you.”

  “Yes, thank you. I go by Jones now,” she stated as she stepped closer so she might see his face. When she looked upon the man’s features, even in the shadows, she knew immediately who he was, despite the humble, worn clothing he wore. She hoped he hadn’t guessed she recognized him. That might not be good for her.

  “Why are you here? You told me to meet you at the tavern.”

  “We had an appointment. I instructed you to go to the Tavern. I decided I preferred a cozier setting for our meeting.” He reached for her reticule sitting upon the table, opened it and removed the diary. He lit the lamp upon the table, the flash of light illuminating his features for an instant. He eased back into shadow and opened the worn leather volume.

  “Sit, Mrs. Jones.” He motioned to the empty chair across the table.

  “Give me my payment or hand the diary back,” Amelia demanded, trying not to show her fear.

  “Relax, Mrs. Jones. You’ll get your due. Sit back while I peruse the volume.”

  Still keeping her back rigid, Amelia slid into the chair. She kept her eyes on him as he turned the pages. After what seemed like hours to her, when in truth it was only a few minutes, he finally looked up from the diary.

  “Is this all Percy had?”

  “Y-yes, the diary from Esau Davitt is all I have.”

  “I was under the impression there were letters from Esau Davitt’s son.”

  “I know nothing of them. I only knew of the diary.” Amelia swallowed hard. She watched the man. She had the letters, but she did not have any money in her hand yet. She might need them to bargain with the gentleman further.

  He shrugged. “About your payment,” the gentleman continued, “I will set you up in a fine house. You will have clothes, jewels, servants and even a monthly allowance. You will live well. I’m in need of a mistress currently.” He rose and walked toward her chair.

  “I can’t give you the amount of money at present that you require to leave the city. Most of my funds are tied up in investments. In time, you can save enough of your allowance and you will have the amount you need to leave London. I can even arrange for you to leave England if you desire. You can go to Rome, Paris, wherever you wish.” He removed the hood covering her head and let it fall back. He lifted her chin with his fingers.

  “You do have beauty. And red hair is the mark of a passionate woman.” And a whore! “Can you please a man well?”

  Amelia didn’t have a choice really. Therefore, she had to play along until she figured something out. She wanted money to leave London, not to become someone else’s mistress. Luckily, pleasing men had never been a problem for her. “Of course I can.”

  The gentleman unfastened the frog holding her cape closed allowing the garment to fall around her shoulders. “Prove it.”

  She reached out toward the fall of his trousers.

  He caught her wrist. “Any woman can pleasure a man with her mouth. Not every woman can make a man want he
r. Take off your clothes and make me want you. I like a mistress who can seduce me, with her mind and body.”

  Amelia rose from the chair. He didn’t budge. She allowed the silk of her gown to slide up his torso. She pressed her breasts against his chest. Her hands moved to her back. She undid her fastenings as she rubbed her breasts against him. His eyes darkened. A good sign.

  In a few moments, she was clad only in her transparent, lace trimmed chemise and stockings. She put one foot upon the seat of the wooden chair. She lifted the hem of her chemise and began stroking herself. She made a good show of it and felt her cheeks flush as she gave herself pleasure.

  “Take off your chemise,” he ordered.

  She obeyed. She noted the large bulge in his trousers. Another good sign. She licked her rouged lips as she boldly studied the evidence that proved he was aroused.

  “Give yourself release.”

  Amelia knew exactly how to do so. She did it quickly and expertly.

  “Very nice. Sit on the edge of the bed.”

  He came to stand before her. He unfastened his trousers and produced his large, hard erection.

  She had always found the gentleman attractive when she saw him from afar in Town. He was different from any of her previous paramours, much more dignified. His physique was more than acceptable. His strong features made him appear disagreeable, yet his cock and the look of pleasure on his face as she took him in her mouth said otherwise. She had to admit, the size of his hard, rigid cock was impressive. She might actually enjoy being his mistress. She took him deeper into her throat.

  He pushed into her mouth further. He used her mouth for a time. She was skilled. She took him deep. “Yes, that’s it Amelia. You do have some desirable skills in that area. Now,” he said hoarsely as he pulled out of her mouth. “Turn over, Mrs. Jones, and get on your hands and knees. Face the other way.”

  Amelia was actually anticipating having the feel of that big cock inside her. She did as he bid. She allowed him to spread her legs wide. Once she felt his tip at her opening, he spoke.

  “If you want to be my mistress, you must pleasure me. I’ll stand here, you do all the work and you have five minutes to make me come.”

  She heard the click as he closed his watch. She arched, pushed back and took him deep inside her. She raised her bottom and leaned back taking in the entirety of him. She began to move her hips slow at first, then faster. She felt one of his large hands at her hip. His fingers dug deeply into her flesh.

  The gentleman smiled as he glanced at the wooden box beside her bed while she serviced him. He already knew the letters he sought were in there. He searched the room before she arrived.

  He had been watching the woman for days and knew she was comely and had a body made for pleasuring a man. Percy had always bragged on her sexual skills. She had ample breasts, her hips were a trifle wide. Her bright red hair proclaimed her a whore.

  Had she only been honest with him, he might have truly considered taking her on as one of his mistresses. In truth, his stable was full. He had four very skilled mistresses that catered to his varied sexual needs.

  He brought his hand, fingers splayed to connect hard with one cheek of her bottom. She flinched at the slap. He admired the print of his hand on her derrière. He began to participate. He was a busy man and he must be on his way. He drove into her, fast and deep. “Do you like that, Mrs. Jones?” he asked gruffly.

  “Yes,” she managed. Amelia did like it. She had been wary of his offer at first, but it might have its advantages. She had actually enjoyed pleasuring him. She enjoyed what he was giving her now.

  He pumped himself into her harder. She cried out with pain or delight as she found her release. He wasn’t certain which, nor did he care. He remained silent as the pleasure came to him and he filled her cavity with his seed.

  He had already put himself to rights and was leaning on his cane when she was able to turn herself around and sit on the bed. She was breathing quite hard from her pleasurable experience.

  “You’ll be hearing from me tomorrow. I’ll take the diary with me tonight.” He turned and took a step toward the door. “Oh, I nearly forgot your first payment.” He turned quickly to face her.

  Amelia caught the movement out of the corner of her eye. Why was he turning around to face her so quickly? She saw the glint of flashing silver. There was nothing she could do.

  As the woman fell back upon the bed, he could see the dark stain spreading upon the coverlet beneath her as the blood gushed from her throat. He took her chemise from the chair and wiped off the ten-inch blade of his sword cane. He allowed the fine lawn to fall to the floor when he was done. He retracted the weapon back into his cane.

  He walked to the bedside table, lifted the lid off the box and removed the letters. He looked to the bed and saw the gaping gash in her throat. Her eyes were open, glassy, staring at nothing. She was dead.

  “It’s a pity you lied to me, Mrs. Jones, even more of a pity that you recognized who I am. That made too dangerous a combination for my liking. I suspect you would have made quite a diverting mistress for a time. That was quite an enjoyable little romp. Thank you for that.” He smiled, placing the letters and diary in his coat pocket. He left Mrs. Jones’ shabby lodgings, closing the door behind him. There was absolutely no reason to lock it.

  Chapter Nine

  Roseland Abbey, June 1834

  The large party congregated at dawn on the drive of Roseland Abbey to begin their journey to Cornwall. The members were somewhat subdued, having just attended Charlie’s funeral the day before. The sadness of Charlie’s family had affected many.

  Jack stood talking to Trevan, Owen, Wyldhurst and Harry.

  “I will see you in about a week. Once I remove the artifacts from the safe house, I will stop by Swandown Manor and check on Charlie’s family before going on to Cornwall,” Jack offered.

  “Good. Lady Stanbridge will be expecting you. I told her as much yesterday. Are you certain you don’t want company?” Trevan asked again.

  Jack nodded. “I have to agree with Harry. It would attract less attention if I travel alone. Once I have the treasures in my possession, I will send a letter using our code, so you know I was successful, and I will send a message to you at every stop I make. If ill circumstances do befall me, you will have a good idea at what point in the journey I was waylaid.”

  “Be careful, Jack. If you see any Brown Coats, hold up in a safe place and send for us. There will be well over eighty men at Menadue once we arrive.” Harry Bellingham, Lord Glaston, the head of the Avalon Society, clapped Jack on the shoulder.

  “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.” Jack presented his comrades with his infamous lazy grin. He nodded and stepped back as they prepared to leave Roseland. He watched the procession of three carriages and almost sixty men as they left.

  His bags already packed and his horse at the ready, he went immediately to the stables so he could set out for Wiltshire.

  Once on the road, he could not stop thinking about Lady Tuesday Inwood, the same woman who had tormented his thoughts for the past four years. She was no longer a girl. Tuesday was a woman now. A beautiful woman. Every time Jack set eyes on Lady Tuesday Inwood she affected him. Being in her company these two days past had affected him in the same manner. He wanted Tuesday Inwood. He had but to look at her and he lusted after her. Yesterday afternoon, and still this morning upon waking he knew that this time there was a difference. This time he knew it was much more than lust.

  This time they had buried Charlie. Tuesday had been brave and strong, and had been a source of strength for her family. He was impressed by her strength, bewitched by her beauty and there was something more that drew him to her. Something he couldn’t quite name. He knew now that he wanted her, really wanted her. Enough to marry her.

  She had mostly ignored him. Yet he had caught Tuesday watching him out of the corner of his eye a few times. He knew she was still attracted to him, just as he was to her. He had seen it i
n her eyes when he took her hand yesterday. The telltale flush upon her cheeks after he kissed her hand also gave it away. He had been tempted to pull her to him and hug her. Then kiss her, for hours on end. Oh, he wanted to do much more than kiss her, but kissing her senseless was where he would start.

  Yes, Lady Tuesday had always been trouble for him.

  This time, there was less lust and more of something else. He wasn’t certain exactly what it was. After the Brown Coat business was finished, he planned to return to Swandown Manor and kiss Lady Tuesday Inwood quite thoroughly. Then he planned to court her and offer for her hand.

  Menadue, near St. Cleer, Cornwall

  They should have reached their destination the same day. After one and a half days of slow travel due to large amounts of rain from incoming summer storms, muddy roads, and having to stop at an inn for the night due to the inclement weather, the party did arrive safely at Menadue.

  Catherine marveled at the massive size of the crenellated, medieval gatehouse as their carriage turned from the road onto the drive. The long drive led to a massive house of gray granite, flanked on either side by beautifully manicured and extensive gardens. The grounds were enclosed by a tall, stone crenellated wall and surrounded by verdant green woods. The scene was idyllic and restful. She was happy to reach a place she could stay for more than one night, in any case. Her journey from Bath to Cornwall had been a long and emotionally painful one.

  Once their carriage had come to a stop in the courtyard, Ruan assisted Lady Burrow from the carriage. He whispered, “We will be staying here at Menadue until St. Erth reaches Cornwall.”

  Catherine nodded. Her stomach was still quite queasy from the long, bumpy ride from Devon. It was just past noon. She longed for a hot bath and a nap. In truth, she would like to stay in her room and sleep for days. The worry of her situation over the past months had caused her many a sleepless night. The last week had been the most trying experience of her life.

  “My Lady.” Morva sought out Lady Burrow. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”