Night of Pleasure (29 page)

They all seemed to be staring at him with cold intent waiting for him to make his move.

The calling bell rang in the distance.

Derek adjusted his coat and approached Lord Brayton, intent on saying what he needed to say so he could get out, because it was rather obvious based on the statues alone that this house was designated for things he didn’t even want to know about. “I’m Holbrook’s brother, Lord Banfield. We haven’t formally met but I was hoping to have a quick word with you.”

The man rose to his booted feet and straightened, his massive muscled framed looming to what appeared to be a full height of six feet and five inches. His dark brows came together, emphasizing the long jagged scar that ran from the left side of his ear to the bottom front of his jaw. “I know who you are. How did you know I was here?”

“I tried to wave you down earlier when you were getting into the hackney but you didn’t hear me. So I followed you.”

Brayton stepped toward him. “Is there a problem?”

Although the man was incredibly big and looked like he could chew lead bullets for breakfast, after the sleepless night Derek had, not even Hercules was going to stop him from putting this to rest. He veered in close and imparted in a very cool tone, “I’m going to ask you some questions and you’re going to answer them.”

Those gruff features hardened. “You’re incredibly bold to be coming up to my face like this. I point at a person and they die.”

Derek leveled him with a hard stare. “If you think I’m intimidated by the fact you ate too much beef growing up, you ought to take your treasonous British arse back to Persia…
spy
.”

Brayton stared. “Don’t take your bedchamber problems out on me. I got my own.”

Derek whipped his top hat aside, sending it rolling off to the side and fisted his right hand hard. It trembled from the effort he took to keep it from flying. He swore to himself, for Clementine’s sake, he would try to understand this situation. He swore to it. “This isn’t about my bedchamber problems. This is about my wife. My wife didn’t grow up in a sheltered home like other ladies. As such, things affect her more greatly. Which means I have to protect her in a way not even her own father did.”

“Nasser knows that.”

What else did this Nasser know? “Does he also know I love her? Does he know that? Does the
fucking bastard
know that?”

Those features darkened. “I don’t take kindly to a mere civilian addressing the prince as if he were worthy of disdain.”

Apparently, thunder was trying to send a storm. “A mere civilian? You’re calling me, a viscount, a mere civilian? You’re clearly standing in the wrong country, boyo. Setting aside what I think of this entire situation, herein is the problem I’m
really
having. Whenever I ask my own wife what her association is with Nasser, I get the same answer:
no
answer. In fact, she panics. Never mind that a part of me
is
jealous knowing she is devoted to a man I know nothing of, I’m actually more worried about her safety and state of mind than I am about losing her to another man.”

Searching his face, Brayton said, “Her safety and peace of mind is assured. His Royal Highness is heir to the throne of Persia.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “A royal bloodline hardly assures me of anything. Royalty is well known for greater perversions than your average honorable man. And I doubt he is honorable. An honorable man does not convince a young, engaged woman to join him in Persia. Nor does an honorable man violate a respectable woman by obligating her to keep secrets she can’t even share with her own husband. What the hell does he want from her? Does he want her body? Her mind? Her soul? All three?
What
? Because I’m trying to understand.”

“I cannot speak for what His Royal Highness wants.”

“I’m asking you to help me understand my wife. Because she
needs
me. And I therefore need to understand this situation.”

Brayton shifted his scarred jaw but remained indifferent. “If you do not understand your own wife, my lord, perhaps it is time to give her to someone who will.”

What the hell was this? What did they want from her? Derek felt his breath burn in his throat. “She belongs to me. Do you understand? Not Nasser but
me
.”

Those ice blue eyes held his gaze. “If she belongs to you, then why are you standing here trying to convince me of it?”

Derek’s nostrils flared. It was like a game. “I suggest you tell this Nasser, wherever the hell he is, he better not
ever
show his face to me. Or I will duel him and kill him.”

Brayton stared. “You would have to go through me first.”

Derek stared back. “How about now?”

“Don’t make me laugh. Your cock is hanging over the wrong shoulder.”

“I’m so glad you noticed its size. Are you jealous?”

A muscle ticked angrily in that jaw. “His Royal Highness intends to call on you in the next few days to discuss this entire situation and why he ultimately did not make
your
wife his wife, even though she pleaded to be with him up until a few days ago. Sadly, I think I understand the poor girl. You’re like a dog chewing its own leg. Hell, I’d run, too.”

Derek stepped back, feeling the very blood leave his own head. The beautiful girl he first met who had cradled him at his worst hour was no more. Everything she told him was a lie. She had planned to marry her so-called
friend
all along.

Brayton cleared his throat and thumbed toward the entrance. “You have a shadow.”

A what? Derek swung toward the entrance and froze.

Clementine lingered, her silk pleated bonnet crookedly affixed on her head as if she barely had time to put it on. Her gloved fingers clutched her reticule as she stared at him. “There is more to it than what he just said.”

Derek shifted his jaw, his body tensing. He always thought himself capable of forgiving her anything, but not this. Not lying to him and agreeing to belong to another. He could hardly breathe. “You
lied
to me. You told me to trust you. You told me to—”

“If you think you understand me and this situation, Derek, you’re wrong. I never lied to you. I simply couldn’t tell you what we agreed on. I couldn’t—” Lowering her gaze, she opened her reticule and with trembling hands pulled out her silver casing of cheroots. “Dearest God, this whole situation is nothing short of a mess. Please just…just allow me to smoke something. So we can talk.”

Stalking toward her he veered in and grabbed that silver casing and shoved it into his own pocket. “We’re done talking.”

She reached into his pocket. “Stop acting like this. I want my cheroots, Derek.”

He jumped away, keeping her from getting them. “Why? So you could stick it in your mouth and keep lying to me?” He stepped back in and breathed out, “You can have your Nasser, Clementine. Because I’m about to tell you something that may surprise you: I don’t want you. In fact, we’re getting a divorce.” He stalked around her and out into the corridor.

She scrambled in front of him, keeping him from leaving. Her features twisted. “Derek, you can’t— I…we’re married.”

He leaned in. “Don’t remind me. And don’t you dare come home. Go to your father.”

Her expression stilled and her own gaze narrowed. “Everything always has to be on your terms, doesn’t it?
Doesn’t it
? Well sometimes, Derek, your terms they…they
stink
. From the moment we met, you-you…
expected
me to mold myself into your arms as if I always wanted to be in them. And I’m sorry to say I didn’t. I’m sorry to say Nasser was a far better friend to me than you ever were. Because you only see me as something to possess. Whilst he sees me as someone to understand.”

It was as if she were proud of the fact that she had gotten involved with another man. His shock yielded to fury. “
Fuck him already and be done with it
!” he roared, unable to keep it in. “
Because I’m tired of loving someone who will never fucking love me!
”

Her eyes widened.

Lord Brayton stalked toward them, his gaze narrowing. “I suggest you and your fancy tongue full of emotions calm down before I send you through a window.”

Derek rigidly pointed at the man. “If you come up to me,
Hercules
, I’ll—”

“
Och, och, what is all this yelling
?” a French accented female voice called out from down the corridor. “A man who feels the need to raise his voice to the point of breaking my windows clearly knows
nothing
about control.” There were several quick claps as if she were hoping to use her own hands to command attention and silence.

Derek paused as the clicking of self-assured heels echoed toward them.

An older woman pertly hurried toward them, her elegant ivory morning gown rustling with her quick movements. Her silver hair, which had been meticulously arranged in fashionable curls around her pale, aged face wobbled with each determined step.

The flirtatious scent of mint pierced the air as she came to a sweeping halt before them. The woman’s blue eyes observed him. “Is your tongue always this foul?”

Derek swallowed, desperately trying to even his ragged breathing. He couldn’t believe he had roared
and
sworn at Clementine. He never thought himself capable of it.

Clementine stared at the elderly French woman. “Why…it’s you.”

“Ah. We meet again. We know the same people. How beautiful.” The woman stared at Derek, her pleased expression fading to contempt. “I am Madame de Maitenon,” she offered in a firm, refined French accent, “and in this house no man will raise his voice to a woman or use vile words even if that woman deserves it. Now apologize to her.” She waggled a finger in Clementine’s direction. “Make it worthwhile. Impress her
and
me. Or I will call for the authorities and have them resolve this.”

He felt like he had just been reprimanded by his own grandmother. He grudgingly turned back to Clementine, not because he wanted to but because he knew yelling and swearing was not who he was. She was making him into a person he didn’t want to be. A person he didn’t even recognize.

He swallowed and eventually offered in an even tone, “Raising my voice and swearing at you was uncalled for.”

Clementine met his gaze. There was a lethal calmness within her eyes. “What is uncalled for is your inability to respect the love you claim to have for me. Because
this
is not how people love, Derek. And no one knows that better than I.” She snapped out her gloved hand. “I would like my case of cheroots back, please.”

How was it he was always the villain? He stuck his hand into his pocket and pulled out her silver case. He numbly held it out.

Plucking it from his hand, Clementine held his gaze, flipped open the casing, pulled out a cheroot, and stuck it between her full lips, flipping the casing closed with a single click. “I think I have earned the right to at least one, my lord. Be it in front of people or not. Don’t you agree?”

He stared her down. “No. I don’t agree.”

“I wish I cared,” Clementine tossed back. “Watch me smoke.”

Madame de Maitenon sighed and plucked the cheroot out of Clementine’s lips. “Whilst I admire your spirit that is dedicated to putting more coal into his fire, when a lady puffs merely to prove a point, she has overstepped her bounds.”

Derek crossed his arms over his chest, holding Clementine’s startled gaze.

At least
someone
was on his side.

Madame took the casing, opened it and delicately tucked the cheroot back inside with the nudge of a well-manicured finger before closing it and handing it back to Clementine with the swivel of a wrist. “I intend to put your pretty lips to better use. Now tuck it away,
s’il vous plait
. Tuck it away.”

Clementine quietly tucked the casing into her reticule.

Madame de Maitenon let out a theatrical breath and eyed each of them, her blue eyes brightening. “What brings all of this youthful passion to my door? Mm? It is rather obvious you two are married. How long has it been since you have both taken your vows?”

Derek widened his stance. “We were married yesterday.”

“
Hier
?” A startled laugh escaped the woman. “You British do everything wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. You should still be in bed naked with your American bride, reveling in your newfound glory. Why are you both here? Why do you disrupt my way of life with
your
problems?” She stared at Derek.

Why indeed. Reveling naked in bed with his American wife would have been amazing. Though he damn well knew
that
wasn’t going to happen any time soon. Not unless he stuck a sword through Nasser’s oversized cock.

Madame quirked a silver brow. “Perhaps my age has seized my ability to hear.” She tapped her ear, causing her diamond earring to sway. “I believe I asked you a question.
Oui
?”