Jo Beverley - [Rogue ] (18 page)

The marquess's words caused drunken nods from around the table.

"Don't see the boiling in oil, though," drawled the marquess. "Need a damned large pot."

"Can worms eat someone alive?" queried Mr. Cavanagh with a frown. "Now, snakes maybe..."

"Can't get snakes in London," pointed out Viscount Amleigh.

"What about the torments too horrible to mention?" asked Mr. Cavanagh.

"Name one."

"Almack's," broke in the marquess, surely one of the greatest prizes on the marriage mart.

There was a groan of assent at this from all.

Silence descended. Eleanor hoped the matter would now be forgotten, but the marquess turned mischievous blue eyes on her. "My dear lady, I think you must adjudicate and set the punishment. It is said women can think up more hideous torments than men."

"But I have no desire to visit hideous torments on anyone," she protested. "Least of all my husband."

"Fie on you!" he teased, eyes twinkling. "Remember his earlier slight. And though you did not actually take the oath, you became a member of our company and should abide by its rules." Eleanor discovered he had a way of trapping her eyes that made her hot all over.

"Luce," said Nicholas dryly, "remember she's spoken for."

She looked at her husband in alarm; he did not appear angry, but a challenging glance did flash between the two men. The marquess laughed. "Can't blame me for trying. Here I am, honor bound to marry, and all I ever meet are simpering ninnies... In the respectable way, of course."

"I was going to ask the last time Blanche simpered," said Amleigh, then cast a horrified look at Eleanor and went red.

Eleanor could guess who Blanche was. Another French whore. The marquess was not discomposed, however, and said, "Never, thank God," He turned back to Eleanor. "You still have to choose a punishment, dear lady."

Eleanor looked around helplessly. Apart from that brief and surely unnecessary intervention, Nicholas was standing back to let her solve this for herself. She glared at him. He saw it and grinned at her. If there had been a pot of boiling oil to hand, she would have dumped him in it willingly.

It was Lord Middlethorpe who came to her rescue. "Luce, you ask too much. A woman needs to hate to be cruel. I have a penalty to suggest." A mischievous smile twinkled in his eyes as he said, "As Nick violated our rules, he can no longer be a member unless he undergoes the initiation ceremony again."

This was greeted with instant acclaim.

Nicholas laughed and said, "Francis, you devil!"

But he walked around the table to where Eleanor sat and dropped elegantly onto one knee. He took a small silver knife from his pocket. "I'm afraid it's clean. Doubtless I can find a rusty old one such as I inflicted upon you if you so wish."

His eyes held hers. The handsome marquess could have stripped naked at that moment without distracting her attention. She wanted to tell Nicholas to stop the nonsense altogether but knew it was better to let it go forward. She willingly agreed to him using the clean knife.

He recited in dramatic style. "I, Nicholas Edward Martin Delaney, do hereby pledge myself to the service of this Company of Rogues; to defend each and every one, individually and as a group, from all malicious injury, and to never cease in my endeavor to bring horrible vengeance to any who might injure one of my fellows. If I should be forsworn, or if I should again reveal to any person the secrets of this Company, may I be boiled in oil, devoured by worms, or inflicted with other torments too horrible to mention."

Then, very slowly, with his eyes on Eleanor, he pushed the point of the knife into the palm of his hand until the blood spurted. She could not help her hand moving out in a gesture to stop him.

He rose smoothly and held up his hand.

"Gentlemen, are you satisfied?"

They chorused their approval.

"And is my wife now a member of the Company of Rogues entitled to its protection?"

Again they shouted agreement.

He pressed the wound with a napkin. When he removed it she saw the bleeding had already stopped. He held out the wounded hand to Eleanor and drew her to her feet and away from the table.

"I once promised to protect you," he said softly as they walked down the room. "I have been a little slow in taking up my duties."

"I sometimes would imagine you, a knight in armor, carrying me away to a magic castle. In a way, I suppose that dream has come true."

He led her out into the empty hall and closed the door on the renewed conviviality. "You have a forgiving nature, Eleanor, which gives me cause to hope. Do you mind very much that I am sending you to bed? If I can sober those rascals enough, I have some very dull business to conduct."

More business. But his business was his mistress, wasn't it? Eleanor started to wonder whether events had truly spun out of his control or whether it had all been planned.

"No, of course I don't mind leaving," she said. "I would have left earlier if you wished. I'm sorry about that business with the knife," she added, watching him. "I should have been able to think of a better solution."

"It worked out very well, in fact," he said calmly, confirming her suspicions. "Summoned up the old days nicely." He raised her right hand and planted a warm kiss upon the old scar. It was the first time he had done anything so casually intimate, so lover-like, and she felt a frisson of response pass through her body.

"This has always been a social gathering," he continued against her palm, warm breath fluttering over her skin, "but now I want to put the company to use once more. Not least in providing you with a bevy of escorts for the many occasions when I am otherwise occupied."

Madame Therese, she thought with a stab of pain that effectively blocked any pleasure his attentions brought.

He did not notice and continued, playing absently with her fingers. "You will be the most envied woman in England."

She kept her tone cool, hoping the mists of wine in her brain were not distorting her performance. "Most hated, you mean. Even I know there are three of the most eligible bachelors in England in that room. I will have my eyes scratched out."

"Not if you make judicious introductions," he said with a smile. "I must go back."

He kissed the fingers of her right hand, each one separately and lingeringly. All Eleanor's wine-relaxed senses responded.

"I will sleep in the dressing room tonight," he said. "I will be late to bed and have to be off early in the morning. I travel to Hampshire. I don't know how long I'll be gone, but I'll be back before that damned family dinner. When is it? Friday? Call on any of these fellows, especially Middlethorpe, if you have need."

Again he had sobered her. He was leaving. "I am not completely helpless, you know," she said sharply, pulling her hand from his.

He touched her cheek gently with a finger. "Indulge me in my role as knight-errant, Eleanor. I have over ten years of neglect to make up for."

He placed the finger beneath her chin and kissed her lips. She could tell it was supposed to be a formal salute, but then his arms came around her and hers went of their own volition up to his shoulders, and it became a much more serious affair. They had never kissed in this manner before.

She felt wonderfully encompassed by his arms. Her fingers moved into his soft hair, delighting in the warm silkiness. Her lips were soft against his firmer ones, moving sensuously in response to him. The rich taste of port mingled with the taste that was his alone. Her tongue was shyly beginning to join his in exploration when he pulled back and looked searchingly at her as if he would say something of importance.

With his hands cradling her face he even started with, "I wish..." but then he sighed and let her go."It's late, Eleanor. You must be very tired. Good night, my dear. Sleep well."

She thought she saw reluctance as he turned and reentered the dining room. For a moment there he had desired her. Her, not any other woman.

The power of alcohol, Eleanor told herself as she climbed the stairs. But did they not say
in vino veritas
? She had not been immune to the effects either. If he had come to her bed tonight, she thought, and taken her in his arms, if he had unraveled her hair and kissed her as he had just kissed her, she would not have found it so hard to be responsive. No, she would not have found it hard at all.

Nicholas reentered the dining room and confiscated the port, calling for ale and coffee instead, despite the protests of his friends. When it had been served he gathered their attention.

"We have work to do again," he explained.

"Work?" queried Amleigh owlishly. "Christ, Nick, the last time the Company was in operation was in the sixth, when old Chisholme decided to pick on Miles 'cause he didn't like the Irish."

Miles laughed. "I wonder if he ever knew who dyed all his shirts and cravats green for Saint Patrick's Day?"

Nicholas grinned. "He knew, but he realized there'd be worse if he didn't stop. We had quite a reputation by then."

"So what do you want of us now?" asked Lord Middlethorpe.

Nicholas toyed with his cup for a moment, and that moment of untypical abstraction captured the attention of all at the table. "I have undertaken a task for the country," he said at last. "The government believes there is already a plot afoot to liberate Napoleon and reestablish his empire."

There were exclamations of horror and disbelief from the group. "Damn it to hell," exclaimed Amleigh. "I'll not stand for more of his madness!" He had served in the Peninsula before inheriting his title.

"Of course we'll do anything to help, Nick," said the marquess. "As one who could not go to fight, I would love a chance to strike a blow at the Corsican."

Nicholas saw agreement around the table. "Thank you. But before you commit yourselves, I must tell you my task. It is not, in fact, a very noble business. The person most prominent in this plot appears to be a Frenchwoman called Therese Bellaire. She is an adventuress, and a very successful one. I knew her four years ago in Vienna. We were, in fact, lovers." He continued to meet the eyes of his friends as he said, "It is my task to seduce her again and use my influence to persuade her to abandon the plot and betray the leaders."

Silence.

Then Lord Middlethorpe spoke. "But Nick, what of your wife?"

Nicholas colored slightly and at last looked away. "She will not be the first wife to find her husband has a mistress. I hope, however, she need never know." He faced them again. "If, as I suspect, this is all a mistake, I should be able to find that out quickly. If it is not, then I am sure I can soon persuade Therese to betray her colleagues for money, which the government is willing to provide. She is amoral. She does not know the meaning of loyalty."

It was Sir Stephen who spoke their thoughts. "Could you not have waited the wedding until this matter was settled, Nick?"

"No," he said flatly. "Eleanor is expecting a child."

The resulting silence was broken again by Lord Middlethorpe, speaking gently. "What is it you want us to do, Nick? We will help in any way we can."

The marquess added, "I don't suppose your Frenchwoman would succumb to one of us instead? I could bear such a sacrifice..."

Nicholas smiled at that. "No, I fear not, not even to you, Luce. Though you are all welcome to try if you wish. She has apparently set up an establishment in Town, a bordello, to be precise. It is her usual way. It will be a well-run place, I assure you. She has also just taken a country villa near Aldershot, where the favored few will be entertained. I've received an invitation already and am off tomorrow."

He looked around at his friends. They were regarding him with some doubt. "What I require of you first is your support for Eleanor. She knows few people in town. If you can provide escort and attendance at social events, make her known to your families, she may not notice the absence of a mere husband. If I cannot finish this business in the next few days, then I would like some of you to come with me to Therese's establishment from time to time. You can give me moral support, and perhaps in a group my attention to the lady will not be so obvious."

He hesitated slightly and weighed them. "Also," he said, "if you will connive at deception, I would like to use you each as excuses for my neglect of Eleanor. If the matter drags on, we are going to have a great many bachelor evenings."

He sat back to await their judgment. The gentlemen uneasily eyed one another and their leader.

Rolling an unwanted walnut backward and forward between his fingers, Viscount Amleigh said, "On balance, I think the Peninsula was easier than what you are doing."

Nicholas smiled at him. "I would certainly have chosen it."

"Unless you can complete this business very speedily," said Lord Middlethorpe, "Eleanor cannot help but be hurt."

Nicholas met his friend's eyes. "The marriage is not a love match, Francis. She is a sensible woman and understands the way of the world. If there is any hurt, I will make it up to her. My main concern is that she not feel any embarrassment. I hope my behavior need not become talked of in polite society."

Francis shook his head at this optimism, but he again offered his support and the others followed.