Benedict's Challenge (Regency Club Venus 3)

by Carole Mortimer

  The questions she asked now were for herself.

  Lord Gordon currently appeared to be fighting an inner battle. He finally gave up as the vitriol poured from his lips. “Niamh showed herself to be an ungrateful chit when she refused my proposal of marriage,” he bit out contemptuously.

  Chloe was stung into defending her mother. “She was everything that was kind and gentle.”

  “She was an idiot who later fell in love with and chose to marry my younger but untitled and much poorer stepbrother.”

  “Which proves my point of her not being in the least contrived or mercenary,” she maintained stubbornly.

  “Do not talk back to me, girl, or I’ll make sure you regret being alive,” he warned harshly. “I warned Gerald against marrying her, but he wouldn’t have it, always maintained their love for each other was and always would be enough. Well, I might have had to wait almost twenty years, but I am certainly the one who has had the last laugh, because after they both died, I could do as I wished with their beloved and overindulged daughter.”

  Chloe’s heart clenched at this reminder of how much her parents had loved her. “Such as lie to me, starve me, and whip me whenever you felt so inclined.”

  “Yes, all that,” he confirmed without apology. “I found it especially gratifying when I could imagine that it was Niamh I was starving and beating.”

  Chloe gave a shudder. “I cannot believe my parents would ever have left my guardianship to someone as wicked and cruel as you. Nor can I imagine my parents having left me completely destitute and so at your mercy.”

  “There was no money, just the burden of you,” he sneered. “And in return for my generosity, you have behaved the ungrateful wretch.”

  She gasped. “For what have I been ungrateful? Being locked up by a sadistic monster—” She broke off as Lord Gordon’s hand hit the side of her face with such force, she was almost knocked off her feet.

  Chloe thought she heard a gasp from behind one of the walls, but she concentrated on staying out of Lord Gordon’s reach as she cradled her painful cheek. “You are a monster,” she repeated defiantly. “And I shall thank God every day that my mother was wise enough never to agree to marry you.”

  “You ungrateful little bitch.” He glared his dislike of her. “Perhaps I should just leave you here?” He glanced at their surroundings. “It will give me great pleasure to think of the men here pushing your legs apart and taking you, again and again, night after night—” He broke off when the door behind him burst open, his eyes wide as Benedict strode purposefully across the room, an expression of thunder upon his handsome face as he grasped the older man about the throat.

  He used that leverage to drag Lord Gordon back until he had him pressed up against the wall with his feet dangling several inches above the carpeted floor. He thrust his face close to Lord Gordon’s. “You may thank your step-niece for the fact that I am not currently beating you to within an inch of your life, you worthless piece of—” He broke off to draw in a long and steadying breath. “You will shortly be going to prison, where it is to be hoped that your fellow prisoners, most, if not all, having led a far less privileged life than you, will subsequently make your time there a living hell.” He allowed the older man to slide down the wall far enough he now stood on his tiptoes.

  “On what charges will I be sent to prison?” the older man managed to bluster past that hold on his throat.

  “A claim of unlawful guardianship and theft of that child’s inheritance after illegally declaring her dead,” another man voiced quietly.

  Lord Gordon tilted his head so that he could look at the somberly dressed gentleman standing near the doorway, and next to him, Julius Soames and Jimmy. “I recognize Andover, but who might the two of you be?” He glared at them.

  Jimmy straightened to his full height of just over six feet. “I am Lord James Metford.”

  “Any relation to the Earl of Ipswich?”

  Chloe could see Jimmy fighting an inner battle with himself before he released a determined breath. “I am the Earl of Ipswich.”

  Lord Gordon snorted. “The last I heard, that title belonged to Adrian Metford.”

  “The last he heard too,” Jimmy acknowledged scornfully before he glanced at Benedict. “I have decided to correct that error at the earliest opportunity.”

  Benedict could see from the determined light in Jimmy’s eyes that the younger man aimed to do much more than that, and that his reason for doing so was Benedict’s sister, Beatrix.

  “I will come with you,” Julius Soames offered. “In the meantime… Mr. Glover, I believe you have more to say on our present situation.”

  “Glover,” Lord Gordon echoed sharply. “As in Glover, Glover, and—”

  “Eccles, yes,” the solicitor confirmed. “I was the legal representative of your stepbrother and his wife, and subsequent to that, your step-niece. The step-niece you informed me, and produced a death certificate to confirm it, had died in the same accident as her parents. In view of Miss Gordon’s presence here tonight, I take it that death certificate you produced for me was counterfeit and you had procured it for illegal purposes?”

  “Prove it,” the older man spat.

  The solicitor stared at him coldly. “Presenting a false paper as evidence your step-niece was dead is illegal and has serious consequences. As does your unlawful imprisonment of that niece within your home. And the acquisition of her inheritance with that same false death certificate.”

  Gordon’s face went white, then took on a grayish tinge, as if it had finally dawned upon him that his past and present actions could, and would, result in him serving a long prison sentence. “She is a willful and disobedient child and—”

  “Chloe is not a child,” Benedict snapped. “Nor, where you are going, will she be any of your concern.”

  “You— I— She—” Gordon leveled his vindictive gaze upon Chloe. “Your mother was a harlot who lured my brother into—” His words ended abruptly as Benedict, no longer able to tolerate the older man deliberately hurting Chloe, landed a punch upon the shorter man’s jaw.

  His eyes rolled to the back of his head, the blow having knocked his head back against the wall behind him, before he slowly slid down to land on the floor in a crumpled and unconscious heap.

  Chapter Sixteen

  One week later,

  Bayliss House, London

  “Lord Benedict Winter, my lady,” Cotton, the butler of Chloe’s Aunt and Uncle Bayliss, announced evenly.

  Chloe’s heart gave a leap at the knowledge Benedict was here.

  At last.

  Because she had last seen Benedict a week ago, when he delivered her here the morning after that scene at Club Venus.

  Her step-uncle had been removed from Club Venus by two burly policemen who had been brought there by Mr. Glover. Lord Gordon had been locked away ever since, awaiting trial and sentencing by a judge. Mr. Glover had assured Chloe that, with the testimony of Lord Winter, the Earl of Andover, and Lord Metford, it would be a very long time until Lord Gordon once again saw the light of day. That legal gentleman had also ensured Chloe’s inheritance was returned to her from Lord Gordon’s vast bank account.

  Chloe was now a very wealthy young lady.

  And she had never felt so miserable in her life.

  It had been a long but productive week. A time during which she had been tearfully reunited with her aunt and uncle. Once Chloe was recovered enough from her ordeal, her aunt had taken her out to the shops to order a dozen dresses to be made and to buy pretty things to complement them. A maid had been engaged to assist Chloe with styling her hair and caring for those gowns and accessories, to make her ready for when she was presented into Society on Saturday and also to ensure Chloe was appropriately dressed to visit her aunt and uncle’s friends and to be included on the evenings they entertained at home.

  Yes, it had been a very busy seven days—and Chloe had missed seeing Benedict for every single minute of every one of them!

&n
bsp; She knew from staying with him at the Winter estate in Surrey that Benedict was a busy man, and no doubt the demands on his time in London were even higher.

  Nevertheless, Chloe would have welcomed even a brief letter from him asking after her welfare and perhaps informing her as to his own health and that of his friends. But there had been nothing. No note, and certainly no visit from him.

  But he was here now!

  Part of Chloe was so excited, she could barely breathe, and the other half of her was furious with him for having just delivered her here and then, for all intents and purposes, abandoned her. As far as he knew, her aunt and uncle might be even crueler guardians to her than Henry Gordon had been.

  They were not, of course, but Benedict had no way of knowing that.

  “Send His Lordship in, Cotton,” her aunt instructed as she rose to her feet, the two women having been occupied with their embroidery. “I do not believe you need me here, so I am going to leave you and Lord Winter alone to talk.” She smiled when Chloe gasped at this flouting of the social etiquette that an unmarried man and woman should not be left alone together. “The two of you traveled here quite alone on the morning he delivered you to us. I believe the two of you might be alone again here now,” her aunt teased at Chloe’s surprise.

  She felt the warmth of the blush entering her cheeks, because in the past, she and Benedict had done so much more than simply be alone together. Her aunt and uncle had not asked her about the time she had spent under Benedict’s care, but it would seem they had drawn their own conclusions nevertheless.

  Except Chloe was so nervous at seeing Benedict again, she didn’t know how to be alone with him. “Please, Aunt, do not—”

  “Lord Winter, Your Ladyship,” Cotton announced.

  The very air seemed to move in announcement of Benedict having entered the room, but Chloe knew she would have sensed him standing behind her anyway. There seemed to be an invisible string between her and Benedict, and today, it was alerting her merely to his presence in the room.

  Her aunt reached out to gently squeeze Chloe’s forearm. “All will be well, pet,” she soothed before stepping past Chloe to greet her guest. “What a pleasure it is to see you again, Lord Winter,” she greeted before leaving the room.

  Again?

  When had Chloe’s aunt last seen Benedict? A week ago, Chloe instantly chided herself, when he had brought her here to Bayliss House. Her aunt and uncle and Benedict would also have met in the past at the many Society events during the Season.

  “Can you no longer even look at me, Chloe?” he now prompted huskily.

  Chloe spun to face him, cheeks burning, her gaze accusing. She raised her chin, refusing to be in the least intimidated by how much a lord Benedict looked today in a somber brown superfine, white linen, gold brocade waistcoat and tan pantaloons tucked into brown-topped Hessians.

  “Should I wish to do so?” she challenged. “When you have not even been polite enough to send me a note informing me of your own good health and that of Jimmy and the earl?”

  Benedict’s heart was pounding so hard and so loudly merely from seeing and being with Chloe again, he felt sure she must be aware of it. Although, she gave no sign of doing so as she continued to stare at him with those haughty blue eyes. She looked beautiful in a gown the color of daffodils, her skin creamy, her golden curls secured at her crown, as was fashionable.

  Benedict sincerely hoped Chloe could not see the bulge in the front of his pantaloons in response to being with her again. “As you can see, I am quite well. As are Julius and Jimmy. Beatrix too.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  “I called upon your uncle yesterday—”

  “What?” she demanded. “You came here yesterday but did not ask to see me?”

  “Your uncle and I thought it best if I called separately today—”

  “Neither my uncle nor you have the right to make such a decision on my behalf!”

  “Chloe—”

  “No!” She held up her gloved hand as he would have lightly grasped her arm. “I am so angry with you right now, I am trembling with the emotion,” she admitted shakily. “You just left me here, Benedict. Abandoned me and have not asked once since as to my health and safety.” Her accusation lacked vehemence this time.

  “That is not true. Besides, I know the Baylisses to be decent people.”

  “Most people believed Lord Gordon to be an amiable duffer, a bit of a clown, but look how wrong they were about him!”

  Benedict was instantly consumed with the guilt of having been one of those people until a short time ago. “Are you feeling quite well?”

  “Obviously, I am well, but that is not the point!” she snapped.

  Benedict liked her like this. Her eyes were afire with anger, her cheeks a pretty rose color, her lips— Dear God, how he had hungered this past week for the touch of her lips or to have them wrapped about his cock as she sucked—

  Damn it, any more thoughts like that one, and he was going to spill inside his drawers like a callow schoolboy. “I called upon your uncle yesterday to ask if I might pay my respects to you and court you, with the aim of eventually proposing marriage to you,” he informed her softly.

  Benedict had spent much of the past week arranging the demands on his time into a more manageable, and more respectable, timetable—the latter in regard to having passed on his care of the ladies at Club Venus to a much older physician. He had now freed much of his time to allow for a betrothal and then a wife, and eventually, he hoped, children for him and Chloe to enjoy. The family, with the woman he loved, Benedict had believed he would never have.

  Chloe’s heart had stuttered and then stopped at the mention of the word marriage, and the air in her lungs remained there as she could only stare at Benedict.

  He wished to marry her?

  He had already asked her uncle’s permission to do so?

  She moistened her lips before speaking. “How far away do you envisage the voicing of this marriage proposal to be?”

  He gave a formal bow. “I am happy to be guided by you on that subject.”

  Chloe’s heart was now in danger of floating out of her chest before flying away completely. “In that case, today is as good a time as any.”

  Benedict’s eyes widened. “Today? But I thought—”

  “I believe I have already made my feelings on these wayward thoughts of yours more than clear.” Chloe stepped close enough to him that she could feel his warmth and breathe in his heady male musk. “Ask, Benedict,” she invited huskily.

  “I should have a speech prepared—”

  “Not necessary.”

  “So that I might tell you of my positive characteristics—and my negative ones.”

  Chloe’s lips curved into a smile. “I already know all of them, the positive and the negative.”

  “And love me anyway?” Benedict pressed hopefully.

  “And love you anyway,” she echoed softly.

  Benedict drew in a ragged breath and closed his eyes before opening them again. “I love you, Chloe. More than I knew it was possible to love anyone.” He dropped to one knee in front of her. “I will be eternally grateful if you would do me the honor of becoming my wife.”

  “Yes!” Chloe moved down onto her knees before grasping his hands in hers, her face alight with her inner joy. “I have missed you so much this past week, Benedict. I love you so much. To think of never seeing you again…” She shuddered. “It was not to be borne.”

  “Your aunt and uncle have already approved my suit, so if you agree, we can marry and be together always as soon as I am able to acquire a special license.”

  “Yes, please. I love you, Benedict. I love you so very much.” Chloe tilted her chin and offered up her lips.

  “I love you too, my darling Chloe,” Benedict murmured before he devoured her lips like a thirsty man in the desert.

  Some time later, the two of them lay in each other’s arms upon the chaise. They had not made love, as the
sounds of the rest of the household could be heard outside their intimate bubble, but they were as close as they could be without completing that intimacy.

  “I left your uncle in no doubt yesterday as to the ardor of my feelings for you,” Benedict admitted wryly when Chloe remarked on the fact they had been left alone for so long.

  She laughed. “And I have been sulking for the past week because of my ardor for you.” She looked up from where she rested her head against his shoulder. “How are Lord Soames and Jimmy?”

  He gave a satisfied grin. “They are on their way to Ipswich to challenge Adrian Metford’s claim on the title.”

  Her eyes widened. “Will they succeed, do you think?”

  “I believe so.” He nodded. “Not without a fight, but I have confidence they will prevail.”

  “And Beatrix?”

  Benedict smiled. “My sister is also well and anticipating meeting you and hopefully seeing Jimmy again soon. Enough of other people.” He turned so that they were facing each other as he gathered her tightly in his arms. “I love you, Chloe, and I am the luckiest man alive that you have agreed to become my wife.”

  She placed a gentle hand against his cheek. “I am the lucky one, Benedict, and I promise you we shall be very happy together. Always.”

  An “always” Benedict had never believed he could have but which he would cherish, as he would cherish Chloe, forever and always.

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