Benedict's Challenge (Regency Club Venus 3)

by Carole Mortimer

  Chloe looked troubled. “Do you believe I am capable of being cruel to her?”

  “No, of course not,” he dismissed impatiently.

  “I believe Jimmy—James, as I am now inclined to agree with you in regard to his having lied about his having originated from the slums of London. I believe his consideration toward your sister to be genuine rather than contrived for any nefarious reason.” There was a gentle rebuke in her tone.

  Benedict felt a wave of shame, similar to the one he’d had earlier, in having even voiced such an accusation to the younger man. It was, as Jimmy so rightly said, as insulting to Beatrix as it was to him.

  He looked down at his feet. “I believe so too.”

  “Then you owe both James and your sister an apology.”

  Benedict glanced up at her. “There are not many women—anyone at all, in fact,” he corrected dryly, “who would dare upbraid me in the straightforward manner you do not hesitate to do.”

  She looked at him from beneath her lashes. “I do not mean to overstep.”

  “And I was not criticizing you.” He sighed. “I know I am guilty of sometimes forgetting to be considerate of other people’s feelings.”

  “And I believe most are intelligent enough to realize it is a defensive action rather than deliberate cruelty on your part.”

  Benedict eyed her admiringly. “You really are one of the nicest and kindest young ladies I have ever met.”

  Chloe chuckled. “I am both nice and kind?”

  “Very much so.” He nodded, knowing he had never liked any woman as much as he did Chloe.

  Although, perhaps like was too lukewarm a word for how he felt whenever he was with or even thought about Chloe. The hardening of his cock from just being alone with her again was evidence of that.

  She smiled at him warmly. “It is very pleasant to be conversing with you like this again, Benedict. Not that we have not met at dinner every evening and talked politely together then,” she continued hastily. “But—”

  “But we were never alone and so could not be completely ourselves,” Benedict murmured huskily as he stepped closer.

  She looked at him shyly. “I have missed you, Benedict.”

  “And I you.”

  “Do you—” Chloe broke off with a frown as someone knocked on the door.

  “Yes?” Benedict prompted tersely at the interruption.

  The study door swung open. “Now, is that any way to greet one of your oldest friends?”

  Chloe stared curiously at the gentleman standing in the doorway.

  He wore no hat, gloves, or overcoat, having presumably left them with Carlton when he arrived. He was very tall, with fair hair brushed back from his harshly etched features, and eyes of the deepest blue Chloe had ever seen. He had large but graceful hands. His black superfine was tailored to the muscular width of his shoulders and chest, with a dark blue waistcoat buttoned over a flat stomach, and pale gray pantaloons fitted to muscular long legs. His black Hessians were splotched with mud. Evidence he had arrived here on horseback?

  He looked every inch the gentleman, from his stylishly overlong hair to his soft leather boots, as Chloe would have expected of a close friend of Benedict’s.

  He turned that dark-blue gaze toward her. “Am I right in thinking you are Miss Chloe Gordon?”

  She eyed him warily, not sure how he even knew of her existence, let alone her name. “I am, yes,” she confirmed slowly.

  He nodded. “My name is Julius Soames, and I am pleased to meet you.”

  “He is Lord Julius Soames and the Earl of Andover,” Benedict put in dryly.

  “And I am still very pleased to meet you,” the earl said, mocking Benedict’s formality.

  “Your Lordship.” Chloe affected a curtsey.

  Benedict wasn’t sure he altogether cared for the way in which Julius was looking at Chloe. Almost as if she were a tasty morsel he was contemplating eating for his next meal.

  Chloe was his, damn it. The woman he would protect with his life.

  Not just because she was some random female he felt an obligation to protect, but because he had fallen in love with her?

  Benedict believed that to be the case, yes.

  After years of dismissing any thought of love, he had only to look at Chloe to know happiness. A happiness that, without him having realized it, told him Chloe had taken up residence inside his heart. She was his heart.

  “So.” Julius straightened. “Shall we discuss my findings now, or will I wait until Mr. James Metford is able to join us?”

  Benedict’s eyes narrowed. “That’s who Jimmy is, then?”

  “Oh, indubitably.”

  “Then why—”

  “We should wait until we are all together to discuss either of the matters you requested me to look into further,” Julius agreed. “In the meantime, with your permission, I should like to go and pay my respects to Beatrix.”

  “Of course.”

  Chloe waited until the two men had bowed formally to one another and the Earl of Andover had left the study before speaking again. “How did the earl know my name? And what did he mean by discuss either of these matters?” She eyed him suspiciously. “Matters you apparently requested he look into on your behalf. One of the two was obviously Jimmy’s identity, but did the other one concern me?” Her voice rose in her agitation.

  “Chloe—”

  “No.” She stepped back as Benedict would have reached out to grasp her arm. “You asked a complete stranger—he is a complete stranger to me,” she insisted when Benedict would have protested, “to poke about in my private affairs. If you had wished to know more of my situation, then you should have asked me first. Instead, you chose to ask one of your friends to do so without my knowledge.”

  “Chloe—”

  “I said no!” She took another step away as he reached for her again, tears balanced precariously on her lower lashes. “You had no right to do that. None at all!” she choked out before turning on her heel and running from the room.

  All Benedict could do was let her go.

  And know that, because he had not been completely honest, he had once again pushed a wedge between himself and the woman he now knew he had fallen in love with.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Are your other guests merely tardy, or will neither of them be joining us for dinner at all?” Julius drawled as the two men sat in the drawing room, enjoying a glass of whisky together before dinner.

  Benedict’s lips thinned. “I have a feeling it is going to be the latter. They are both exceedingly angry with me at the moment.” He grimaced.

  Julius looked amused. “I did chance to hear shouting coming from your study when I returned from visiting Beatrix.” He eyed Benedict questioningly.

  Benedict had felt that, after the way Chloe had reacted so badly to the reason for Julius’s arrival, he ought to explain the situation to Jimmy before he and Julius met later that evening at dinner. Jimmy’s immediate response had not been favorable, and he had once again slammed out of the house just minutes later. He was now choosing to make himself absent from dinner this evening. As was Chloe.

  Benedict was unsure what to do about it.

  Julius’s glance was sympathetic. “Beatrix was very pleased to see me, and am I wrong in thinking she is so much happier than she has been for some time?”

  “She is, yes,” he confirmed.

  “Ladies,” Julius continued, “and it would appear some gentlemen,” he added dryly, “do not, as a rule, care for unexpected surprises. Especially ones where they feel their privacy has been invaded.”

  He scowled. “I believe I have managed to ascertain that for myself, thank you. Damn it, I was only trying to help when I sent you that second letter, explaining what else I had learned about Jimmy and Chloe.” He stood up restlessly.

  The other man grinned wryly at his obvious irritability. “Miss Gordon is an exceeding beautiful young lady.”

  His eyes narrowed. “And?”

  Ju
lius’s expression turned deceptively innocent. “I was merely making an observation.”

  Benedict released a heavy sigh. “I am no good at dealing with the emotions of others, Julius.”

  To his credit, Julius managed to hold back his humor this time. “You are no good at discerning your own emotions either.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  The other man gave him a pointed glance but added nothing to his previous statement, preferring to take another sip of his whisky instead.

  Benedict glared at his friend and then immediately felt childish for doing so. He had asked Julius for his assistance. It was only natural the other man should now have an interest in the two people Benedict had asked him to make enquiries about.

  Something Benedict had not taken into account when he made that request to Julius was that Jimmy would feel Benedict had overstepped the boundaries of their friendship and Chloe would be angry with him for the same reason.

  How was he supposed to help either of them without this knowledge?

  “I believe you might—I know you would feel the same way,” Julius corrected, “if the positions had been reversed.”

  Benedict had no idea he had spoken the previous words out loud until Julius answered them.

  His friend was right, of course. Benedict had reacted very badly to learning that Jimmy had been so curious about Beatrix, he had visited her in the east wing without Benedict’s knowledge or permission to do so.

  Because of that, he now realized where he had gone wrong with this situation too. Chloe and Jimmy were not ungrateful for his assistance. They merely wished he had consulted them about things which affected the two of them before he had acted. Such as writing a second letter to Julius with the new information about them to aid in the other man’s investigations into both their pasts.

  “Dinner is served, my lord.”

  He turned to look blankly at Carlton as the butler stood expectantly in the doorway. “Could you send one of the maids to check if Miss Gordon will be joining us? And perhaps a footman to the stables to do the same with regard to Mr. Brown?” He shot Julius a grimace when the other man choked slightly on a swallow of whisky.

  Carlton looked startled. “Miss Gordon and Mr. Brown departed some hours ago, my lord.”

  “Departed to where?”

  “The estate, my lord.”

  Benedict gave a shake of his head. “I’m sorry, but I thought you said…” His brow furrowed into a deep frown as he sat forward. “Miss Gordon and Mr. Brown left the house and estate earlier?”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “To go where?”

  “They did not say, my lord.”

  Benedict’s fingers gripped the glass in his hand so tightly, they were in danger of shattering it. “Why the fuck did you not come to me the moment they announced their plan of leaving?”

  Carlton, having never heard Benedict so much as raise his voice until earlier this afternoon, now widened his eyes at his aggression and language. “They did not announce it, my lord. They simply left.”

  “How?”

  “I have since learned that Mr. Brown made enquiries of the household staff, and, armed with that knowledge, I believe he and Miss Gordon walked the mile or so into Tipperton, where a public coach was expected to arrive at seven o’clock this evening and then, shortly thereafter, depart for London.”

  “Fucking hell!” Benedict exploded, not needing to look at his pocket watch to know that it was now gone eight o’clock and his two “guests” were long gone. “And did none of you have enough sense to come to me the moment Mr. Brown began making those enquiries?”

  “Benedict!”

  He turned to glare at Julius. “The two of them have left here, the one still suffering from the bruises he received after being set upon by thugs, and Chloe, also having sustained injuries and with nowhere to go once she reaches London.”

  “Presumably, they will stay together?” his friend suggested.

  Benedict’s scowl deepened. “I sincerely hope not, having seen firsthand the conditions under which Jimmy was living before becoming a patient in my infirmary.”

  Julius rose to his feet before addressing Carlton. “Could you please give our apologies to Cook? We shall not be requiring dinner this evening after all,” he said soothingly. “Perhaps you could have her prepare some cold cuts and bread instead, which we might eat during our ride to London on horseback?”

  “I will see to it immediately, my lord.” The butler gave a bow before hurrying away.

  Julius raised blond brows. “No point in taking your temper out on the staff, Benedict,” he reproved. “And what the hell did you say to Miss Gordon and Mr. Brown to have caused this reaction?”

  “What did I say?” he snapped in frustration. “I believe it was your arrival, and my confessing the reason for it, which set this course of action in motion.”

  Julius sighed. “You keep too much inside your own head, Benedict, without taking the feelings of others into consideration.”

  “So I have heard, several times,” he snapped. “Now, could we perhaps stop dwelling on what you perceive to be my faults and instead go and change into our riding clothes so that we might follow, and hopefully apprehend, my rebellious guests before they disappear into the bowels of the slums of London?” Benedict threw the last of the whisky in his glass to the back of his throat before placing the empty glass on a side table.

  Julius did likewise before the two men went upstairs to their respective bedchambers.

  “Perhaps we should not have left without first telling Benedict of our plans?” Chloe ventured to the man seated across from her in the public coach as she held on to a leather strap situated on the roof above her. A single lamp lit the inside of the coach.

  This early in the year, with the weather bitterly cold, both outside and inside the coach, and the sun having disappeared several hours ago, they were the only two people traveling in the public conveyance. It nevertheless smelled of unwashed bodies, with an underlying aroma of vomit, the latter no doubt spilled by several previous passengers as the coach swayed precariously from side to side. As it was doing now.

  Chloe was also swaying from side to side, despite the aid of the leather strap. “It now seems rather ungrateful of us to have done so,” she added when Jimmy remained silent.

  He looked at her with clear blue eyes. “What is your story, Chloe? And once it has been told, will your circumstances have changed in the slightest?”

  Chloe thought of her age of only nineteen, of Lord Gordon’s guardianship of her until she was one and twenty. “No,” she acknowledged heavily.

  Jimmy stared out into the blackness. “Nor will mine.”

  “Who are you really?”

  His smile was bitter. “I am Lord James Charles Malcolm Metford, the true Earl of Ipswich.”

  Chloe gasped. “Then why—” She broke off, shaking her head. “I do not understand.”

  “There is no reason why you should.” His expression hardened. “And if you tell another living soul what I just told you, I shall deny it to my last breath.”

  “I would never betray your confidence,” she assured him.

  “Why not?” he prompted curiously.

  “Firstly, because I like you,” she told him warmly. “Secondly, because I am sure your reasons for demanding silence on the subject are valid ones.”

  “They are, yes.” Jimmy’s voice had warmed and gentled.

  At his silence on the subject, Chloe accepted those reasons were obviously ones Jimmy would prefer not to talk about. How could she not accept it when there were things about her own past she had not told anyone but Benedict?

  A trust and confidence he had broken when he wrote to his friend Julius!

  Perhaps.

  Chloe now realized, the closer they came to reaching London, she had not given Benedict the opportunity earlier to defend himself on the subject before leaving his study.

  And now she had left him completely and would po
ssibly never see him again. She had decided to do so impetuously once she had spoken to Jimmy and learned he was leaving. But she had not thought those plans through properly, or what she was going to do once she reached London. Returning to Lord Gordon’s house was certainly not something she would ever do willingly.

  And never to see Benedict again…

  The very thought of it made Chloe’s heart ache. If she could turn the clock back and rethink her actions, she would not have—

  “What on earth!” Jimmy sat forward to look out into the darkness at the sound of raised voices outside before the coach came to an abrupt and rickety stop. “I should have bloody well known this would happen,” he muttered as he fell back against the bench seat.

  “What is it?” Chloe prompted sharply. “Are there highwaymen?”

  The practice of public and private carriages being stopped by armed men on horseback had mostly stopped since the policing of the highways had so often resulted in those robbers being apprehended, usually resulting with them swinging from the gallows.

  Jimmy grimaced. “Of a kind, yes.”

  The door beside Chloe was flung open before she could ask any more questions, and she literally felt the color draining from her cheeks when she found herself looking into the furious face of Benedict Winter.

  “Stay exactly where you are,” he warned Jimmy grimly as the younger man would have risen. Instead, Benedict took off his hat before he climbed inside the carriage to sit on the bench seat beside Chloe. He was dressed for riding in a heavy overcoat and thick leather gloves, his boots splattered with mud. “God, it is disgusting in here!” His aristocratic nose wrinkled with distaste as he looked at the stained seats and filthy floor.

  “I am so sorry it is not up to your usual impeccable standards, Your Lordship,” Jimmy scorned. “The quicker you state your case, the sooner you can be on your way.”

  Glittering dark eyes leveled on the younger man. “You may travel when and where you wish—”

  “Kind as it is to give me your permission, I really do not need—”