12. Early Hours, 10 September, 1826

Derek sat in bed, reading some estate ledgers, which never failed to put him to sleep. However, in the wake of all that he"d been through that day, not to mention the loss of two thousand pounds to the blackmailer, he was still wide awake.

Thank God he"d had Col with him for the trip to the graveyard. They"d been directed to leave the money in a crypt where the door had been left open. That had been the hardest part. What if some other criminal had been dogging their steps and stole the blackmail money? What if he had to come up with another two thousand? What if the loss infuriated the blackmailer and he doubled the amount? What if...? God, would sleep never come that night? At the rate he was going, sleep might never come again.

He threw the ledger to the floor, turned off the room"s gas light, and lay flat again, closing his eyes and hoping for the best. Not ten minutes later, he swung his legs back onto the floor and padded barefoot to the settee at the foot of his bed. If a cushion could speak, the one resting on the settee at the foot of his bed was shouting now. The lonely puffed parlor accoutrement beckoned to him in the dark, and the minute he picked up the silly, bright floral reminder of Cassandra Collins, her scent flew up and nearly bowled him over.

For long minutes back beneath the counterpane he told himself merely breathing in her scent might be all he needed to calm himself enough to sleep. But at the first deep inhale, his cock leapt from sleep-ready soft to rigid high alert. Derek groaned and reached into the drawer in the chest at the side of his bed. He was going to need a lot of oil before morning.

As he lay squirming uncomfortably and embarrassed by the depraved sexual depths to which he seemed to have plummeted, he reflected that he paid a veritable king"s ransom to maintain not one, but five mistresses less than a quarter mile from where he now lay in a foment of throbbing need and shame. He could of course visit any one of the women and be reasonably sure of a warm welcome, except perhaps from Adrienne. He was almost relieved that she was obviously in the throes of renewed passion with Captain El"s burly bodyguard, Obadiah. That meant one down and four to go. God, what a tangle.

He poured a bit of the oil onto his hands and took his demanding cock in hand. He didn"t even have to spend time building a fantasy to bring himself to spend in pleasure. The moment he took a long stroke ending with his thumb circling over the tip, the vision of Cassandra splayed in his bed, open to him, filled his line of vision behind closed eyes. His imagination then seized the reins, relieving him of any further guilt or responsibility.

Her lush mouth opened in a wide smile to welcome him when he pushed his cock up between her full breasts. When her clever hands squeezed the sides of her breasts, trapping his naughty prick, he groaned aloud and was thankful he"d given Bharat the night off to visit his family in Limehouse. His rapid release soiled not only the sheets but the poor cushion he thought he"d placed far enough away to be out of the line of fire.

After that quick interlude, he oiled his hands again anticipating the fullness already returning. He was almost grateful the poor woman was not actually there in the dark with him. His cock could be greedy when the object of his fantasies was the dark-haired, hazel-eyed Mrs. Collins.

Since the cushion was already soiled, he decided the delightfully scented fill-in for his tempting housekeeper might as well serve as a poor substitute for what he was sure was her warm, wet cunny. He"d laved on plenty of oil onto his cock so that he could prolong the pleasure, the same way he imagined he would once she was truly in his bed, in the flesh, with her long, lithe legs wrapped tightly around his waist whilst his cock plunged into her depths until she fell apart in his arms.

He hated to think of what she"d been through before she came under Captain El"s protection. But he was determined to claim her as his own and make sure she never spent another moment in fear of another employer. She was going to be his to love, and protect...no matter what he had to do.

10 September,1826

Ormonde Mansion Servant Quarters, Grosvenor Square

Dickie shook his head to clear his thoughts. "Let me get this straight. You two are half-brothers and grew up together on the old Marquess"s Norfolk estate?"

"Right." The brother with the unmistakable height and green eyes of the old marquess replied.

"I"m the one born to Mrs. Godet..." He stopped a moment before adding, "...on the wrong side of the blanket."

"He kept James"s birth a secret and threatened the midwife and servants if anyone revealed Mrs. Godet"s baby hadn"t died. He was brutal toward both of us growing up in the country, so we stayed together to protect ourselves," the young heir to the Ormonde title added. "And now we"re trying to find his sister."

"If you mean Adrienne, she"s safe, under the protection of the Earl of Framlingwood. But the marquess has sworn to have her killed, transported, or hung for attacking him with a vase and disfiguring his face all those years ago."

Her brother, who"d introduced himself as James Godet, held up his hand. "All I want is to see she"s taken care of. I don"t want her alone in the world, fending for herself." He had Adrienne"s dark good looks and the same raven hair.

His brother interrupted. "Once my blasted father gives up and leaves this world, I plan to settle a portion on James. He"ll have a fine home in near Glasgow with plenty of income to take care of himself and his sister.

"We"ve been looking for a long time without any luck until we heard about the attack over on Bond Street, and the gossip sheets named Adrienne as the woman assaulted."

James continued, "We assumed it was an assassin hired by our father, but we haven"t been able to find any evidence he"s retained anyone to harm her."

"And the marquess has been dying for the last month. He hasn"t left his bedchamber in all that time. That"s why we"re here in London." Adrienne"s brother gave Dickie a pleading look. "Since you seem to know her well, please tell me she"s being well treated and protected."

Dickie gave him a broad smile. "She"s under the protection of the Earl of Framlingwood, but her bodyguard is Obadiah Lassen, the best in London. He"s in charge of security at Goodrum"s House of Pleasure." He then turned a dark look on both of them. "He"s a mountain of a man, and God pity any ruffian who tries to snatch Adrienne...and that includes you lot or your father. Now let me go so I can let her decide whether or not she wants to meet you."

11 September,1826

Number One Townhouse, Grosvenor Street

Obadiah ripped through the last cloth bond securing his left foot to Adrienne"s bed. He growled in triumph and leapt to his feet. Since he felt like thrashing someone, he padded over to the bell pull for Young Rutherford. He picked up his trousers and shirt from the floor and pulled them on whilst waiting for the little conniving bastard of an under-butler.

When Young Rutherford tapped on the door, Obadiah flung it open hard enough to rattle the hinges. The little Babe of Grace stood flanked by his older Abram Cove brothers. He could have taken on any of the Rutherford gang brothers one-on-one, but together? Obadiah might or might not survive the resulting battle royal. And even if he did, the old man, Toplofty would get him in the end. The five brothers were quiet as the grave but the glowering looks on their faces would have caused a lesser man than Obadiah to take immediate flight.

"I suppose you lot are proud of yourselves, helping a woman humiliate the only man who loves her."

Young Rutherford was the only one of the brothers stupid enough to challenge him. "I"d think a man who really loves a woman and acts like it, wouldn"t end up tied to her bed being humiliated." With that, the brothers turned, like a regiment of soldiers, and headed back down the hallway toward the servant passageway to the kitchens below.

Obadiah stood silently for long minutes after the Rutherford Gang"s exit. He recalled the early morning hours when Adrienne had ripped loose one of his bonds before running like a scalded cat. If he were honest with himself, he"d been more aroused than humiliated when he"d awoken from being drugged and tied to her bed.

He"d brought all of this torture upon himself. His pride and jealously had caused him to endanger the only woman he"d ever loved. She"d lived most of her life never feeling safe. And now he might have been the cause of adding one more terror for her to bear on her own slender shoulders.

He"d been angry when last they"d made love, and he"d forced her to keep his seed. Now she"d told him she might be with child, his child. Christ! She was probably wandering the stews of London, alone. What the hell was wrong with him? He had to find her and fast. And then he"d take that hellcat directly to a vicar.