Read DefeatedbyLove Online

Authors: Samantha Kane

DefeatedbyLove (6 page)

Chapter Eight

 

 

“What do you see?” Simon asked as Daniel leaned against a
building, one leg bent behind him with his foot on the brick wall. They were
watching the offices of Ashbury and Son, a name that Daniel found extremely
ironic. Simon turned away to spit out a seed from the orange he was eating.

“I don’t see anything except you acting like a vulgar
ruffian,” Daniel admonished. “Must you spit things about?”

Simon laughed and took another bite of orange. “We’re on the
docks,” he told Daniel. “No one cares. They’re probably thrilled I’m spitting
orange seeds and not something entirely more disgusting.”

“I am not thrilled,” Daniel told him, shading his eyes as he
watched the people inside through an open door. “And since I’m the one who has
to stand beside you, please refrain from spitting in my general direction.”

“Keep it up and I’ll spit on your boots,” Simon growled.
“What have you learned so far?”

“If you had gotten your lazy arse out of bed this morning
you’d already know what I know,” Daniel snapped. “Instead you wander out here
when the sun is halfway through the sky and nearly expose my surveillance.”

Simon looked around with an exaggerated alarmed look.
“Egads, you’re right. The miscreants are converging on us now. Er, soon. Any
moment now.” He paused and looked around expectantly. “Nope, not a one in
sight. I think you’re safe.”

“You were much funnier in the war when people were shooting
at you.”

“So were you,” Simon said with a shrug. “Such is life. So
what do we know?”

Daniel sighed, feeling very put upon. “I discovered this
morning that the Ashburys are not very well liked among their competition,
which normally wouldn’t be surprising. But this goes beyond the norm. There’s
fear associated with them. I saw it in the eyes of the people I spoke with. No
one wants to talk about them, and if they do they’re looking over their
shoulders. There were some mumblings about shady dealings, bribes. The
consensus seems to be that they’re dirty, particularly the cousin who’s set to
inherit, Theobald Ashbury, old Ashbury’s nephew. But most distressing was the
insinuation that the deaths of some of their competitors were no accidents.”

He’d been shocked and saddened by the revelation that
Harry’s family was indeed vicious and cruel, as his wife had suggested. He
simply couldn’t picture Harry growing up amid that sort of atmosphere. No
wonder he’d left. What was harder to understand was his returning to his family
all those years ago, when he’d left Daniel. Had Harry truly thought returning
to them was a better alternative than staying with Daniel? Not for the first
time that morning he sighed in disgust and frustration. This was exactly why
he’d never looked for Harry’s family or investigated them before. He hadn’t
wanted to know, hadn’t wanted the sort of doubts and misery assailing him now.

“How did they die?” Simon asked, tossing his orange peel
into the street.

“Was that your breakfast?” Daniel asked, trying to keep the
horror from his voice.

“Yes, quite healthy. Now answer the question.”

“I had perfectly cooked beefsteak and eggs.”

“You always have perfectly cooked beefsteak and eggs. And
when I want some, too, I drag my arse out of bed and over to your house. How
did they die?”

“I’m not sure yet. Descriptions range from ‘mysterious
circumstances’ to ‘violent end’. I’m going to have to dig deeper.” Daniel
wasn’t happy about this development.

“So she might actually be right,” Simon voiced Daniel’s own
thoughts. “They might really be trying to kill her, if they’ve done that sort
of thing before.”

“They’ve never been implicated,” Daniel argued. “No one can
trace the deaths to the Ashburys.”

“Come now,” Simon chastised. “You have never been a believer
in coincidence. If it was one competitor, maybe even two. How many are we
talking about?”

“More than two,” Daniel conceded.

“Hmm,” was Simon’s noncommittal reply.

“All right, fine,” Daniel gave in belligerently. “They might
actually be trying to kill her.”

“None of it is her fault, you know,” Simon said softly.

“I’m not blaming her,” Daniel snapped, yanking his leg down
and spinning away. He began to walk briskly down the sidewalk. Simon ran to
catch up.

“We should have done this years ago,” Simon said, matching
his strides to Daniel’s.

“Done what?” Daniel wasn’t in the mood for Simon’s word
games today.

“Looked into Harry’s family and what happened to him.”

That made Daniel stop and confront him. “Why? What possible
reason could I have had to do that?”

Simon sighed and looked away. “Because he’s not dead to you,
no matter how you try to act like he is. Perhaps this would have closed that
chapter. Perhaps finding out about his wife would have done the trick.” He
turned back. “Has it?”

“What utter rubbish,” Daniel scoffed. “’Closed that chapter’
indeed. And I know he isn’t dead. I’ve always known that. But he might as well
have been. He made his choice and I made mine. My choice was to let him go and
move on. I’ve moved on.” To illustrate his point he turned and began walking
again, this time at a sedate pace.

“And she’s pulling you back.”

Daniel stopped abruptly at Simon’s observation. “Yes she is.
And I have no desire to revisit that place and time again.” He spun back around
to face Simon. “Yes, that’s it. She is to blame. You say she isn’t, I say she
is. She’s the one who couldn’t keep her damn legs closed. If she hadn’t gotten
herself impregnated—by a coachman of all people—I wouldn’t be here on the
rotting docks trying to find out if Harry’s family are the murdering thugs I
believe them to be.” He paused to take a breath.

“I will refrain from pummeling you in your disrespectful
mouth because I understand that your broken heart is speaking and not your
common sense,” Simon ground out between clenched teeth. “Her goddamn
husband—and I use the term loosely—ran off on her. She’s been alone for ten
damn years. I hardly think one indiscretion is enough to paint her in the
whorish light you just have.”

Daniel was immediately contrite. He of all people should not
throw stones. His entire house was made of glass. He knew very well his own
behavior the last ten years since Harry’s desertion had been whorish in the
extreme. He dropped his head back and stared blindly at the blue sky. “You’re
right,” he said. “I’m sorry.” He looked at Simon then, meeting his gaze
straight on. “And it was one indiscretion, I believe. I don’t think she was
lying about that.”

“No, I don’t think so either,” Simon agreed. “Not based on
her lack of kissing experience.”

“Just don’t be trying to give her more experience,” Daniel
told him with a smile. “I’m not sure she could weather that storm.” With
another sigh he delivered the dreaded news. “I’m afraid she’ll have to stay
until I can find Harry and bring his worthless hide home. He caused this mess
and he can clean it up.”

Suddenly a man stepped out of an alley in front of them.
“What have we here?” he asked with an accent straight out of one of London’s
rookeries. “I don’t think you belong here.” He was dressed in shabby genteel
clothes, what he must think passed for a gentleman, Daniel supposed.

“I don’t think you have any say in where I do or do not go,”
Daniel said, irritated at the interruption.

“Well, aren’t you Mr. High and Mighty?” the man said,
surprised at Daniel’s belligerent tone. “I think we do.”

Another man stepped out behind them, caging them in.

“Oh, dear God,” Simon said, as exasperated as Daniel, but
his ire was directed at Daniel. “You can’t avoid trouble even when you try, can
you?”

“This is not my fault,” Daniel said sharply. “You cannot lay
this at my door.”

“I fancy that cane,” the man in front said, gesturing to
Daniel’s walking stick.

“This one?” Daniel said. He held it up. “You haven’t even
seen the best part.” He pulled a stiletto out of the end. “Oh, I am sorry. It
still has blood on it from the last idiot who thought I looked like an easy
mark.”

The man behind them took a step back as Simon moved off to
the side and faced Daniel, keeping their would-be assailants in his sights.

“I don’t believe you even know what to do with that,” the
man in front of them sneered. “A little shit like you? Don’t make me laugh.”

Daniel flourished the stiletto, drawing both men’s eyes to
it, and then he struck out with his other hand hitting the man in front right
in the throat. He fell back choking, and in the confusion Simon spun around and
kicked the man behind them in the stomach. He fell to the ground moaning. Daniel
made a move toward the choking man and he turned and ran off, his hand to his
throat. Daniel looked back to see the fallen man stumble to his feet and
ignominiously run after his companion.

“Then we’re agreed,” Simon said, resettling his tall hat on
his head. “This is all Harry’s fault.”

They both turned in the same direction and began walking
away from the docks together. “Yes,” Daniel said vehemently, “it’s all Harry’s
fault.”

 

Daniel and Simon decided to start with Lord Michael
Kensington. Michael was an old friend from the war who had recently spent some
time in America with Harry.

“I haven’t seen him,” Michael said in surprise when Daniel
brought it up. “Not since I left New Orleans. You know that.”

Daniel took a deep breath. “Yes, I know that,” he said
patiently. “I’m asking if you know where we ought to look for him.”

They were at the home of Wolf and Veronica Tarrant. It was
also Michael’s residence, as the three were lovers and nearly inseparable.
Michael’s wife, Lady Aurelie, also lived there with her lover, Mrs. Agatha
Grimshaw. Wolf and Very’s daughter Katie, and Lady Kensington’s son Stephan,
rounded out the household. The boy was, of course, officially Michael’s, if not
biologically.

Daniel rubbed his forehead, feeling a headache coming on. He
always got one when he came here.

“He doesn’t keep me informed, you know,” Michael said,
clearly annoyed. “As far as I could tell, he doesn’t keep anyone informed of
his whereabouts, not even his business partner.”

“Let’s start there,” Daniel said, jumping on the small piece
of information. “How can I contact him?”

Wolf sat on the arm of Michael’s chair, leaning along the
back, toying with Michael’s hair. It was a blatantly sexual gesture as was the
sleepy look in his eyes and it made Daniel’s headache worse. The two had
obviously been happily fucking before they arrived, which would explain why
Very hadn’t come down. More than likely she could hardly walk at this point.

“Stop that,” he snapped at Wolf. He’d known the predatory
Tarrant since the war, as long as he’d known Simon. When he’d met Wolf the
other man was very nearly mad, silent and deadly and frighteningly odd. He bore
little to no resemblance to the happily married man he now knew. When he’d met
Michael it had saved him from self-destruction. On their return to England the
pair met Very, and their lives had been forever changed. But there were times,
like now, that Daniel saw a shadow of that early Wolf Tarrant. “You needn’t act
protective and possessive with him. I’m just asking questions.”

“I know,” Wolf said in that silky voice of his that could
say sweet nothings as easily as it could cut you like a knife. “But I’m the
jealous sort.”

Simon snorted. “No you’re not. You’re just still angry about
the fact we kept Michael’s secrets from you when he came back.”

“Exactly.” Wolf smiled humorlessly. “So I don’t trust you
not to lead him astray again.”

“Lead him astray? As if it were our fault?” Daniel
exclaimed. “He was the idiot who got himself embroiled in runaway slaves and
murder.” He tapped his fingers impatiently on the arm of the sofa. “And if I
remember correctly that was all Harry’s fault, as well.”

“Yes, Harry’s fault,” Simon agreed vehemently. “Blame Harry.
We are.”

Wolf sat up, a curious look on his face. “Oh, this is
interesting,” he purred. “Not only are we saying Harry’s name again, but he’s
being blamed. For what?”

“Now, I think you’re all being unfair,” Michael interjected.

“Be quiet,” Wolf said. “I want to hear what Daniel has to
say.” He tempered his order with a kiss for Michael’s temple. “You see,
darling, I was there when Daniel met Harry. I was there for the whole sordid
affair.”

“If I remember correctly, you clandestinely observed some of
it too,” Daniel said wryly. “You can thank me for Wolf’s expertise in bed
later, Michael.”

“True,” Wolf said without repentance. “A lad has to learn
somewhere.”

Simon plugged his ears. “I’m not listening.”

“You shagged him first,” Wolf reminded him. “Daniel hasn’t
got any tricks you haven’t seen firsthand.”

“I think I’m too young for this conversation,” Michael said
with an almost suppressed grin. “And I knew Harry then too, don’t forget. I
just didn’t know you or what he was doing with Daniel at the time.”

“Back to Harry,” Wolf prompted.

“Yes, let’s get back to Harry,” Simon agreed. “I want to get
my hands on the bastard.”

“This just gets better and better,” Wolf said, rubbing his
hands together. “Tell your Uncle Wolf all about it.”

Daniel couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m older than you are,
Uncle.”

“A mere triviality,” Wolf countered. “Don’t change the subject.”

“Mrs. Harry Ashbury appeared on Daniel’s doorstep the other
night begging for protection and asylum,” Simon said. “She’s innocent.”

“Not quite,” Daniel said. “The babe in her belly will make a
liar of you there. But for all intents and purposes, he’s right,” he conceded,
facing Wolf. “And unfortunately, she’s taken up residence in my guest room. The
sooner I can find Harry, the sooner I can get rid of her.”

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