Seduced (10 page)

Her cousin waved her off. “I know, I know. You’re only speaking in hypotheticals when it comes to taking lovers and such.”

Claire squeezed her hand, then left her to follow the others to the garden. Letty stayed behind a moment, fighting the pain that rose up in her with Claire’s words. No one knew the sting of a one-sided affection better than she did.

And she would never make that mistake again. No matter what she decided about Jack Blackwood.

“When are you and Claire leaving London?”

War looked up from the decanter he was pouring from and smiled. The expression was more common on his brother’s face now that he was married, settled, happy, but it still shocked Jack when he saw it. His younger brother had always been a quiet, serious type, never filled with much light.

Jack would always thank Claire and her daughter for that change in War. It was their love that had brought his brother happiness. He also credited Claire with encouraging War to continue their brotherly relationship after their awkward and almost deadly reunion six months before.

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” War asked as he handed the scotch over.

Jack shrugged. “You
are
a terrible nuisance,” he teased.

War grinned wider and motioned Jack to a comfortable chair before the roaring fire. They had finished their usual Sunday supper hours before and Claire had left them to themselves and gone to bed early, complaining of a slight headache. Jack had almost envied the way War went straight to her side, taking her hand, speaking to her softly.

That kind of connection was nothing but trouble for a man like Jack, of course, but the intimacy of it was undeniable. It had taken Claire several minutes to convince War that she was not ill and just wanted to go to sleep.

No one cared about Jack that much. He knew that full well.

“I assume my presence here must remind you that there are other paths beyond the criminal one for men like us,” War said, interrupting Jack’s wayward thoughts.

The smile Jack had managed to keep on his face while his mind wandered fell. Leave it to War to touch on serious topics now. Especially ones he was not in the mood to discuss.

“I like my path just fine,” Jack said, sipping his drink.

War lifted his brows like he didn’t believe it. “As you wish. But tell me, how bad has it gotten since you shot your main rival between the eyes?”

“I shot Jonathon Aston for
you
,” Jack reminded him. “For Claire and her daughter.”

War’s jaw set, as it always did when they discussed that awful night. “If you hadn’t done it, Aston would have killed Claire just because he couldn’t have her. You saved her life, I know. I wasn’t judging the action. I would have done it myself had I been conscious. I just know that act opened the door for new competitors. And it must be chaos in the underground.”

Jack took another drink. How he wished War didn’t know quite so much about his life. War was too aware of the truth to believe the lie on Jack’s tongue. The one that dismissed the danger that had multiplied when Aston died.

“There are contenders for the throne,” Jack said with a dismissive shrug. “I wouldn’t lie about that. But they are pups all. I am not concerned.”

War leaned forward and held his gaze relentlessly. “Your expression says otherwise.”

Jack ground his teeth. In truth, he wasn’t worried about most of the men who pursued him. They were too weak individually to do him much harm. They were also too stupid to work well or for very long together.

But it was the unknown man who bothered him most. The unidentified one who hung like a ghost in the shadows.

He looked up from his drink to find War staring at him expectantly.

“You are out of the business, War. Let it go,” Jack insisted.

His brother’s mouth tightened, and he downed his own drink in one swig. “Yes, I suppose I should do that. Since I’m married now and leaving London behind very shortly, letting it be is my best course of action. But you are my brother, Jack. If you need my help, you obviously know where to find me. I hope you know you may turn to me if you need to do so.”

“I wouldn’t drag you back into the mud, Warrick,” Jack said softly. “You are too clean now. Though I appreciate the offer regardless.”

Jack couldn’t believe he was saying that. There was a time he would have done almost anything to get his brother back at his side. But War had been badly injured six months ago. Even now, Jack saw his brother’s slight limp, knew there were terrible scars beneath his shirt. It put things in perspective, he supposed.

His life might not be worth saving, but War’s was.

“You could come work for me,” War pressed.

Jack hardly held back a bark of laughter. “Clean up horse shit? Oh, please, tell me more.”

War shook his head. “You’re already in sales, Jack. I could use someone to talk to those interested in my services.”

“They can talk to Claire. You and I know full well she’s going to end up your true partner in this endeavor.”

“She’s pregnant,” War said softly.

Jack jolted. He might have expected that news. He knew War and Claire were deeply and passionately in love with each other. But a child?
War’s
child? One that shared their blood?

“A few months along,” War continued. “Since we only just wed and there is enough talk circulating about her return to Society and her marriage to a man like me, we decided not to tell anyone just yet. We’ll reveal the truth to her family before we leave London.”

“Congratulations,” Jack said, lifting his glass.

War nodded, doing the same, and they drank to his unborn child. Jack looked at War closely as they did so. There was a smile on his brother’s face unlike any he’d ever seen before. But there was also some tension around his eyes.

“You will be a good father,” he offered.

War met his gaze. “Will I? We never had a role model for that, did we?”

“No.”

He and his brother likely had different fathers, based on their mother’s ways. The man who had ended up raising them for the bulk of their lives had helped to sell her body on the street, drank to excess and had nearly killed them both through beatings.

“What if I turn into him?” War asked.

Jack shook his head immediately. “You are a hundred times the man that bastard was. You could
never
be like him.”

“I used to bust heads for you on the street,” War pointed out quietly. “I’m no stranger to using my fists to get my point across.”

Jack tensed, hating the guilt that passed through him like a slow wave.
He
was the one who had dragged his younger brother from the hellish home they’d grown up in. He was the one who’d turned War into the muscle for his operation a few years later.

“I know you,” Jack said. “You are a good man.”

War grunted as if he weren’t certain and said, “I suppose we’ll see if that is true.”

“Think about Francesca,” Jack said, referring to Claire’s two-year-old daughter from her relationship with Jonathon Aston, the child she and War had risked everything to save.

War’s face relaxed. “I do love Francesca,” he admitted.

“Even when she is screeching at the top of her lungs, demanding what she can’t have?”

“Even then.”

Jack leaned forward. “And you’ve never thought of raising a finger to her, have you? At her worst?”

“At her worst, I’ve thought of trying to rupture my own ear drums,” War chuckled. “But never hurt her, no.”

“And if someone threatened her—”

“I would kill them slowly,” War said with a scowl. “Painfully.”

“Then I think you will do fine with the new baby,” Jack said, leaning back in his seat. “I think you’ll love that new baby as much as you love Francesca and Claire.”

“I already do,” War said.

Jack sighed. “Then I suppose you should go join your wife in bed like the old, boring family man you’ve become.”

“I think I shall,” War said, setting his empty glass aside.

Jack joined him on his feet and extended a hand to him. “I can show myself out.”

To his surprise, his brother caught his hand, dragged him forward and hugged him hard. War pounded him on the back a few times and then released him.

“I needed that brotherly talk,” he said, his voice suddenly unsteady. “Thank you, Jack.”

Jack swallowed past the unexpected lump in his throat. He had missed War. He still missed War. But he was so glad they had come to some kind of understanding between them. That they could be brothers again even if they would never again be partners.

“Good night, Warrick,” Jack said, allowing his brother to leave the parlor first. He followed and headed for the foyer as his brother turned for the staircase that led to the chambers above. As Jack entered the space, Warrick’s housekeeper, Mrs. Dayton, met him with his gloves.

“Thank you, Mrs. Dayton. Good night,” Jack said.

“Wait, sir,” the woman said, casting a quick glance over her shoulder toward the stairs where War had disappeared seconds before. “I, er, have something for you.”

“You do?” Jack asked.

She dug into the bosom of her gown and pulled out a wrinkled note, which she handed over to him. He stared at it, then at her.

“Care to explain?” he said.

Mrs. Dayton cleared her throat and said, “Well, Mr. Blackwood, Lady Seagate stopped by here the other day to see Mrs. Blackwood. When Mrs. Blackwood went to fetch something for her, Lady Seagate found me and gave me this, asking me to give it to you when you came for your regular supper tonight.”

Jack stared at the note with wide eyes. If Letitia had gone to so much trouble, there must be something important she had to say.

“Thank you, Mrs. Dayton,” he said, shoving the letter into the inside pocket of his coat. “Good night.”

She held the door for him and he left. His horse was already ready for him, of course, and he swung up onto it, handing the young groom a coin for his trouble. As the boy skipped off to his bed, Jack pulled the letter out again. By the light of the house, he could read it.

He broke the seal and unfolded the pages. Letitia’s handwriting was even and tidy, but feminine, with flourishes where there didn’t need to be. He smiled before he began to read.

Mr. Blackwood, I would like to speak to you at your earliest convenience. Is there a place where we could meet that would be private? Not my home, somewhere more neutral? Send me word at your earliest convenience to let me know your reply. Letitia.

He read the words again before he refolded the letter and put it into his coat. He urged his horse into movement and maneuvered him onto the street. As he rode off toward his lair, he considered what she’d written.

After their last encounter, almost a week ago now, he had been fairly certain that Letitia would never wish to see him again, let alone speak to him. He had been jealous of her companion, a feeling he despised and hated to acknowledge. He had turned that jealousy into something even uglier.

She hadn’t deserved that.

And yet when he kissed her, she’d kissed him back. Urgently. Sweetly. With need that was coiled within her like a long imprisoned snake.

But certainly that was not the reason for her to wish to meet with him. Her brother was more likely why she wanted to speak. He sighed at the thought of yet another set down from the lady, yet another insistence that he do the impossible: control a seventeen-year-old’s desire for adventure.

“But why a neutral meeting place?” he asked himself. “She could have easily broached this subject to me at War and Claire’s as she has before.”

Even more interesting was the fact that she had signed her note as Letitia rather than Lady Seagate. He had been taking the liberty of addressing her by her given name for some time, despite her correcting him. Now she offered her first name to him.

“Curious,” he muttered out loud.

He was left with more questions than answers by her unexpected contact with him. And it was an undeniable lure to see what exactly it was she wanted from him.

He turned away from the finer neighborhoods of London and toward the worst parts of the city. As he rode through poverty and despair, he frowned. He wasn’t about to bring Letty to his lair. Not only did he not want her to know its location, but it wasn’t safe there, not for a woman like her, and not under the current circumstances.

But there was one place he could think of that would be safe and private. A perfect place for them to have their meeting.

So he urged his horse faster, eager to arrive at his home. Eager to write her the note that would eventually lead to the answers to his questions.

He only wished those answers didn’t mean so much.