Suzi Love (22 page)

“How noble of you. Cayle St. Martin, once again slaying my dragons.” She whirled from her pacing to confront him.

“And what of your agreement with Julia?”

“As Anthony pointed out, marrying me will not cause a scandal, it will prevent one for you.”

“And I’m causing an outrageous scandal, one to be prevented at all costs. Even if the cost is your loss of freedom.”

“If you carry on as you are, flaunting your knowledge of the consortium at every opportunity, thumbing your nose at dangerous men, there’ll be consequences. I care deeply for you, Becca. I don’t wish to see harm befall you.”

“Does caring mean loving?”

His expression instantly hardened. “I’ve learned from my father’s example that love is a term used by people who want something from you. It never lasts. But as my duchess, you’ll have everything you require.”

“Except a man who loves me.” Even as she recognised how perilous it was to persist, she wanted to goad him into revealing something more. She needed something from him other than the announcement of a business attachment, or the grudging admission of a deep caring. What she wanted, all she needed in a marriage, was destined to be forever beyond her reach; however, she knew she’d never be content to settle for less.

“Love is a foolish notion,” he announced with a small grimace of distaste. “With your penchant for scientifically proven facts, your research would have shown you it doesn’t exist.”

A month ago, even a week ago, Becca would have agreed. All her life she’d studied information, analysed it and accepted the conclusions. With her sisters, she’d researched lovemaking, not love. Now, when love had hit her like a bolt of lightning, she felt disorientated, unable to reach a reliable conclusion. Unable to process the facts.

She only knew that the man before her must never discover how she felt. His embarrassment would lead to even more humiliation for her. She needed to dismiss him without arousing his suspicions. Had to distance herself from him and she had to do it immediately. It would hurt, it would hurt a lot. As an awkward child, Cayle’s protection had been a blessing. As an adult, Cayle’s assistance, his involvement in her life had become something she counted on. But depending on someone else was a luxury she couldn’t afford and she was dimwitted to let herself think she could, even for a few weeks.

Saying goodbye to him would be like cutting off an arm, but if the alternative was that he or his brothers risked their lives, she had to find a way to cut him loose. But, oh my goodness, the pain was going to be enormous. Much, much worse than when Cayle had left without explanation four years before. She did the only thing possible to save them both face. “While I appreciate the noble gesture, Cayle, it’s just that, a gesture. An empty one at best. And one which I have no hesitation in refusing.”

The momentary look of relief on his face told her everything. It had been a spur of the moment proposal, one he instantly regretted.

“I’ve vowed never to marry, never to become beholden to any man. I intend keeping that vow.” Leaving him slightly taken aback by her refusal, she turned and fled to the door. In two lengthy strides, he caught her by the arm and spun her to him.

“Are you crying,” he demanded roughly, catching a tear on his finger.

“Of course not. I’ve received many marriage proposals and I’ve never cried when I refuse them. Yours is no different. Simply another way of controlling a woman.” This time, she fled the room, bunching her already rumpled gown to run up the staircase as if escaping a demon. Him. He was the angel of love and the devil incarnate.

She heard him snap at Thompson as he went out the door to his waiting carriage. Fine, let him be angry. She felt angry too. A momentary insanity had possessed him when he proposed marriage to her when he clearly didn’t want her as a wife.

She’d read the panic on his face when he asked. And the relief when she’d refused him. Freeing him had been the right thing to do. But that didn’t stop the ache.

In her body and in her heart.

Cayle couldn’t do it. He couldn’t even contemplate climbing the steps of a brothel and bedding another girl after tasting even a small sample of the pleasure to be had with Becca. Despite her baffling rejection of his marriage earlier in the evening, he still wanted her. And her alone.

His first reason for accompanying three acquaintances from his club to Mistress Duval’s was as a way of avoiding Becca and her family. If he kept busy elsewhere, he wouldn’t succumb to the temptation of scaling the wall to visit her bedroom. God knew he wanted to. With every fibre of his being he longed to see her, to touch her, and more importantly, to make love to her. He’d no one to blame for his unrelenting state of painful arousal but himself.

The other men had all been well in their cups when they’d discussed a visit to the brothel to round off their night’s entertainment. Having spent a boring hour pretending an interest in gaming, Cayle had tried valiantly to escape to his home and his lonely thoughts, but the men had insisted. His second reason had been the more pressing because these men were associates of Baron Mitchell and Viscount Melrose. Once they’d mentioned a rendezvous with them, and Bennett, at their favourite brothel, Cayle had allowed himself to be coerced.

But now he felt only regret. And self-loathing.

• • •

Neither the baron nor the viscount had appeared by the time the three Cayle arrived with deserted him for an adventure with three willing ladies in another room. He’d refused their invitation to join them. Even the watered down wine he consumed in the parlour didn’t help.

A redhead with green eyes and enormous bosoms spilling over her décolletage seated herself on his lap, attempting to entice him upstairs with soft words and brazen caresses. Nothing helped. The woman he wanted wasn’t here. Most probably, she was tucked up warmly in her own bed, exactly where he wished her to be after returning from the dinner that had been on the Jamison’s program for the evening. But he also wanted to be in her bed. He refused to consider the idea that she would put her theory to the test and find a willing rake to experiment with. She wouldn’t dare, would she?

Knowing that thought would niggle at his brain until he passed by Grosvenor Square and checked on the men he had deployed around the house there, he attempted to rise. The woman wriggled suggestively in his groin before he could bid her a fond goodnight but his attention was snagged instead by a well-known voice coming from the steps. He stopped. Bennett was descending and bidding farewell to one of the house girls.

One he’d obviously had no compunction in bedding. One that looked the image of Becca and similar enough to the one on his lap for them to be sisters. Another redhead with green eyes. And young, very young. Cayle shifted the girl sideways off his lap and moved to stand face to face before a startled Bennett.

“Bennett.”

“Sherwyn.”

Arthur visibly squirmed and glanced away. Then he straightened his back and turned to face Cayle. “I didn’t realise you were frequenting this establishment. Gossip says that your stepmama has your balls tied in knots. Rumour also has it that you must remain celibate or Julia — ”

“Enough. My personal life is none of your affair.”

Arthur erupted with an evil sounding chuckle.

“Ah, so I’ve found your Achilles’ heel, Sherwyn. Your delightful stepmother.”

“Once again, I will recommend that you mind your manners.”

“Or what, you’ll call me out. We all know your reputation at duelling.” He sneered again. “Or rather, your reputation at avoiding duels.”

Cayle seethed. He was a word away from lunging at the idiot and pound him into the floor but knew this was neither the time nor the place. He had no wish to read his name smeared across the
London Tattler
in the morning. No wish to create more distress for Becca.

• • •

Bennett’s shrewd glance took in the redheaded woman still clinging to Cayle’s arm. “Ah, I see now that your tastes mirror mine. Beautiful young girls with hair the colour of sunset.”

Cayle struggled to control his fury at the assumption they had similar tastes in harlots. He untangled the girl’s arm and moved away from the bottom of the stairs before he spoke.

“I haven’t been upstairs, as you have. Your present fiancée, the delightful Margaret, will undoubtedly be irked to hear you are still smitten with redheaded women. Ones who are the image of the woman you were going to marry before her.”

Bennett’s face turned a mottled red. During their schooldays, he’d been jealous of Cayle’s popularity, his wealth, and even his future title. Nothing had changed.

“Bennett, it has been confirmed for me by several of my sources that you are holding meetings here with both Baron Mitchell and Viscount Melrose.”

The man looked nervous. Scared even. But Cayle had no time to feel sorry for him. This spineless snake deserved all he got. He was a threat to the Jamison’s security. “The gentlemen I do business with are no concern of yours, Sherwyn.”

“I’m making it my concern because it has an effect on the Jamison family.”

“I’ve done nothing wrong.” He glanced around the room, checking they couldn’t be overheard. “All our dealings are fair and above board.”

“You do realise that the consortium, of which you are a member — ”

“You’ve no proof. Memberships are private.”

“I do have proof. On several occasions, your meetings with Mitchell and Melrose have been noted.”

“You’ve been watching me.” Bennett’s high-pitched voice sounded like the squawk of a bird fleeing for its life. The man was nervous, scared.

“I’ve had some men following you for days, Bennett. I’m only surprised that a man of the baron’s calibre has not discovered that already. Careless of him, wouldn’t you agree, to let his cohorts movements to be documented by the constabulary.”

Shock marred his face. “Constabulary. I told you I’ve done nothing wrong.”

“That remains to be seen. So, here’s my proposal. If you want me to remain quiet about your predilections to a certain type of paid companions, you’ll reveal all you know about the workings of the consortium.”

Bennett grabbed his arm and drew him to the side of the parlour. “I can’t do that, Sherwyn. You don’t understand how dangerous these men can be when crossed.”

“Believe me, I’m beginning to understand all too well. Those men have gone beyond threats to Lady Rebecca and her family. One of them murdered the woman who kept the ledgers for the society of women they aid. Peggy. I suppose you heard that. Someone broke in looking for information and she disturbed him. He hit her over the head with her own paperweight. Now, they are threatening to kill Becca, or one of her sisters.”

Bennett visibly shook when Cayle took a step closer. “I never meant for Rebecca to be harmed. I told Mitchell about the Jamison’s successes in investments in strictest confidence. I didn’t know he would go after Michael. But Michael Jamison has a very acute sense for future commerce. Everything he touches turns to gold.”

“Michael is the one doing this?” Cayle pretended confusion.

“Of course Michael. Who else? His brother is too young to be involved in enterprise and his sisters are well … ”

When he waved his hand vaguely, Cayle prodded him to continue. “His sisters are what?”

“They are women. Mere women.” Cayle nearly choked. This idiot had almost married Becca yet he had no idea as to her level of intelligence or what she and her siblings had achieved, with or without Michael’s input. Swallowing his instinctive defence of Becca, Cayle chose his words with care, not wanting to arouse Bennett’s suspicions.

“You don’t think women capable of reasoning out the intricacies of commerce?”

The fool looked askance at the suggestion. “You jest of course, Sherwyn. Everyone knows women are quite capable of running a household in an efficient manner. Nevertheless, real matters of finance are always handled by men.”

Smothering his urge to reach out and strangle this pompous ass, Cayle inclined his head in agreement. “Naturally a woman needs a strong man to guide her in everything but the most trivial of matters.”

Bennett visibly relaxed as Cayle conversed in a low-key fashion about the difficulties of dealing with females in general. Then Cayle led the conversation back to the Jamisons. “So, you and the baron are confident that Michael will agree to join your organisation.”

“Mitchell promised that by applying a little pressure, Michael would be forced to agree. Once he’s a member, he’ll reveal his secrets to the latest plans he is now finalising. In another two weeks, there will be new releases of many ventures at the Exchange. To make the best monetary gains, the syndicate wishes to be aligned with Michael. Recently, he’s been funding railways so the consortium is rather desperate to understand how he makes such accurate predictions. He’s preparing another prospectus and we wish to know in advance for which railway.” He nudged Cayle in a playful manner as he continued to hang himself on his own petard. “And what helps Mitchell, helps me.”

“How is that?”

Cayle endeavoured to keep his tone neutral when all he wanted to do was unleash the feelings of disgust that welled up inside him at the thought of this letch coming anywhere near someone as good as Becca. The swaggering show-off had imbibed enough wine, enjoyed such a pleasant interlude upstairs, that his mood had mellowed. Mellow enough that he treated Cayle like a friend.

“If I play my part to perfection, Mitchell will guarantee my income for life. Enough to keep a wife and as many mistresses as I desire in the finest of style.”

Although keeping mistresses after marriage was common, Cayle felt sickened at the callous way Bennett arranged it. He felt a twinge of sympathy for Margaret and what she was about to suffer during her marriage. He was so concerned with his thoughts, that he missed what Bennett was saying at first.

“ … and of course, I’ve asked before but she refused me. But soon, I’ll be enormously rich. So rich that she’ll be begging to become mine.”

“I’m a little confused. Are you referring to your escort here tonight, the young redhead?”