Night of Pleasure (6 page)

Only in London. “So you don’t owe Lord Trent any money?”

“No. That three-legged ingénue is merely upset that I refused his offer of becoming his mistress.” He sighed. “He gets jealous of my associations with women all the time. It results in stupid threats, but he never follows through on any of them. Leave it to me. I’ll talk to him.”

Derek stared. “Are you and he involved?”

His brother gave him a withering look. “I’d sooner stick my cock into a hornet’s nest. Do I look a male pillow to you?”

“I’m getting tired of being the last to know
everything
. We’re not brothers. I’m your goddamn criminal lawyer.” Derek shifted from boot to boot and glared. “Who else are you associating with these days? Who else do you owe money to? Because I’d like to write this all down. For future reference.”

Andrew searched his face. “You seem…
tense
. Did something happen? Are you all right?”

It was clearly time to let this go. Because Andrew always did what Andrew wanted to do. And as long as the city wasn’t burning, who was he to care? Derek adjusted the ribbon on his queue. “I’m just tired. I’ve been putting in a lot of hours trying to organize all the ledgers before April.”

“Why before April? What happens in April?”

“You aren’t the only one who has secrets. Mr. Grey finally let me set the date for the wedding.” He flashed a smile. “I’m getting married this April. And you’re the first to know it.”

Andrew snapped straight. “Oh, damn. You don’t say? Well…congratulations.” He hesitated. “Are you still concerned about your lack of experience? Or did you finally gain some?”

Derek awkwardly stepped back. “I ended up hiring a woman when I was back in London.” He had to. He couldn’t very well be a virgin
to
a virgin and unleash all of his passions on her like a wild animal in need of raw meat.

His brother angled closer. “You hired a prostitute?” he demanded loud enough for his voice to echo throughout the corridor and beyond. “Whatever happened to your vow of never touching another but Miss Grey?”

Derek shoved him and glanced toward the corridor behind them. “Jesus.
Quiet
. Are you trying to announce my sins to the world?”

“You needn’t worry. Mother retired over an hour ago.” His brother quieted his voice. “You didn’t pick up a random woman off the street, did you?”

“What do you take me for? An idiot in need of the pox? I went over to a high-end establishment on Moon Street. They ensure the women are clean and more importantly, they let me bring my own condom. Because I sure as hell don’t trust theirs. They barely wash them.”

Andrew pulled in his chin. “I went there myself not that long ago. Hopefully, we didn’t ride the same goddamn horse or I’ll—” He shuddered. “Her name wasn’t Nancy, was it?”

Derek rolled his eyes. “No. Her name was Elizabeth.”

“Thank
God
. Or I’d gag.” Andrew’s mouth quirked playfully as if he’d already moved on. “You should have bypassed the grotto and gone straight to the duchess. It would have been free and she comes with a long list of instructions.”

Unbelievable. There could be a knife to his brother’s throat and he’d still make a joke of it. Andrew was definitely their father’s son. Because when the weight of responsibility threatened to choke
him
, Derek didn’t have it in him to laugh quite as easily. That was who he used to be. He’d long since learned that being stupid at the wrong time came at a high price.

Turning on his heel, Derek strode back to his desk and shook his head. “Let me know when you’re interested in being serious.” Trying to distract himself, he dug out Clementine’s letter from his waistcoat, broke the seal, and unfolded the parchment, square by square. “I’ll acknowledge you in the morning. I have a letter to read.”

It had been almost eight months since he’d heard anything from her.
Eight
. He was beginning to worry that his last letter had been overly amorous. Of course, they all were. He called her ‘beautiful’ and ‘dearest’ and gushed on and on about how he couldn’t wait to see her. He even signed it ‘My whole heart goes out to fetch you.’ He couldn’t help it. He had been sharing all of his personal thoughts with her since he was eighteen. And the best part? She genuinely listened. Even if she didn’t always reply in a timely manner.

Andrew seated himself on the edge of the mahogany desk with a long hefty breath, clearly intent on staying. “Women exhaust me.”

“Are you certain you aren’t exhausting them?” Derek tossed back.

Andrew snorted and straightened the haphazard pile of ledgers with the back of his hand. “It’s not like you would understand. You’ve never been involved with a woman.”

“You forget who you’re talking to. I was kissing women long before you even knew what a kiss was.” Derek sat and turned Clementine’s letter over in his hand, admiring the way she wrote his name and address.

“I can’t believe you actually hired a prostitute. You waited seven years and couldn’t wait another few months?”

Derek tried not to feel guilty. “I just didn’t want to bumble my way through my own wedding night.” He bit back a knowing smile. “It was a hands-on five hour tutorial on what would make Miss Grey moan. Very educational.” He tilted back in his leather chair. “Now if you don’t mind, I need a few moments to read this. All right?”

He snapped the letter straight. That elegant script he adored and knew all too well lured him into her world. The suffocating burdens of the estate and everything expected of him by the world fell away as he imagined Clementine’s voice. It was a voice he hadn’t physically heard since 1823, but one he still remembered as if she’d spoken to him yesterday.

Dear Banfield,

Your last letter took some time to reach me, given I was traveling again. It must have been lost as there are half a dozen postmarks, and signs of enough wear to indicate it might have traveled to the moon. I was happy to receive it, along with all of your warm thoughts. I was very sorry to hear that your poor mother’s cat died after being mauled by a neighbor’s dog. It would seem not even our cats are safe in this world. Please pass along my condolences, which I will be able to offer in person soon. As you well know I will be leaving New York in a few weeks, for which I am most grateful. I have never been all that fond of Broadway Society as the people here seem to think their money makes them right. By the time you receive this letter, I will already be en route to London and if the weather is fair and willing, Father says we should arrive in early April. I look forward to seeing you again after all these years. There is certainly a lot for us to discuss.

Sincerely,

Clementine Henrietta Grey

He grudgingly folded the letter. Twice. All of her previous letters had been much warmer and chattier. He couldn’t quite make it out, but it was as if she had cooled to him. He’d waited eight long months to hear from her –
eight
– only to receive a mere ‘Sincerely’ and a ‘There is certainly a lot for us to discuss.’ In his opinion, there wasn’t anything to discuss. He was going to damn well tongue the lips off that woman the moment they were alone.

Opening the drawer filled with all of her letters, he set her latest atop his regulated pile and paused at seeing the oval miniature portrait she’d sent. Painted blue eyes peered up at him. Black ringlets of long hair framed her pale face, accentuating the detailed brush strokes against the small canvas. The first time he’d seen it, he’d stared at it for hours unable to believe she’d grown even more beautiful.

Andrew leaned across the desk. “Why not pull her portrait out and set it on your desk?”

Derek slammed the drawer shut. “I stare at it enough already.”

A bright mockery invaded that stare. “Admit it. You were soft for her from the moment you and she met.”

That was a fucking understatement. Over the years, he’d grown to not only mindlessly yearn for her but had come to genuinely love her for always letting him write whatever words he needed to. Good days. Bad days. And everything in between. Her letters, though not as many as his own, insinuated she had become everything he had always imagined her to be. Intelligent, witty, overly proper and kind. Everything that made his blood zing. The memorable ten weeks they spent together back in ’23 carried him through every single one of these seven years. On their last day together, when she set her own pale cheek and a gloved hand against the carriage window in quiet farewell, it hinted at what their married life would be: absolutely darling. Like her.

Andrew rumbled out a laugh. “Oh, come now. There is no need to look so depressed. Being soft isn’t always a bad thing. It simply means—” He let out a whistle and veered his forefinger down onto the desk. He hit it. “You’re no longer in control. She is.”

Derek leaned back against his leather chair. “That is exactly what I’m afraid of. I’m marrying a woman worth eighteen million. How the hell does a man impress a woman who has everything?”

His brother shifted against the edge of the desk and methodically removed a piece of lint from his trousers. “By giving her the one thing no amount of money can buy: a cock full of Banfield seed.”

Derek burst into laughter. “You ought to be arrested for your way of thinking.”

Andrew grinned. “I learned from the best. Something tells me she’ll be pregnant in less than two weeks. If it’s a boy, name it after me. If it’s a girl, still name it after me. Call her
Andrewlina
.”

Derek swiped his face at the thought, rose to his feet and walked toward the window before swinging back. “She won’t even be here in two weeks. I’m telling you, the wait is burning me alive.”

“Tickle her portrait and you’ll be fine.” Sliding off the desk, Andrew tugged on the sleeves of his coat. “Unfortunately, I have to retire. I’m heading back to London in the morning. I promised Brayton I’d show him around the city.” He sighed. “What time is it?”

Derek glanced at the clock on the mantle of the hearth. “After midnight. I have to get up early and finish going through the ledgers. Again. I’m going to hire a new bookkeeper because none of the ledgers are making sense.” Trudging over to the desk again, Derek opened the drawer where he kept all of Clementine’s letters and rifled through them, plucking out his favorite. The one where she described New York during the winter. He tucked it into his waistcoat pocket, to take upstairs with him, then pulled out her small portrait, tucking that in his pocket, as well. He liked sleeping with her portrait. It was better than a pillow. He closed the drawer and pointed at his brother. “You didn’t see that.”

Andrew walked toward him. “By God. You’re more than soft for her.”

Derek edged back. “Maybe. What of it?”

His brother shrugged. “I’m not poking you in the rib about it. I’m incredibly happy the arrangement turned into something meaningful for you. Most men end up grouching about whatever their parents arrange. So uh…” He cleared his throat. “I actually have my own announcement to make. I was going to wait until morning, but I can’t.” Andrew edged in, a boyish excitement overtaking his features. “Out of all the people in my life, you’re the only one who never shuts the door. No matter what I do. Hell, if it weren’t for you, Mother would have disowned me by now. You keep all of my secrets. Every last one. Even the worst of them.”

Now he was scared. He leaned back. “Are we talking about the worst here?”

“Far from it.” Andrew glanced toward the open doorway and lowered his voice. “I’ve
finally
met the woman I was destined to meet. I’m talking about a woman who reaches deep into your being and dredges out things from your soul you didn’t even know existed.”

It was as if his brother was referring to Satan. “Do I know this woman?” he drawled.

“No. But I was hoping you’d be willing to meet her. Do you have time to come out to London in the next two weeks and host a luncheon for her and her mother? It would mean the world to me.” He sounded hopeful.

By the Saints. His brother had never asked him to meet any of his women. Maybe this was it. Maybe his brother was finally going down the respectable path of being a married man.
Amen
. Derek grinned, reached out and shoved that head. “I’d love to meet her. Why the hell didn’t you tell me about her sooner? Who is she?”

“I don’t think our mother should know about her quite yet.”

Derek’s grin faded. “So you’re saying Mother wouldn’t approve.”

“You know how she is. Prim and proper this and prim and proper that. Like everyone else in our circle. She would never understand. You’re the only one I can trust in this.” Andrew hesitated. “If I show you something, do you vow not to tell Mother or anyone else about it?”

This was anything but promising. “I really don’t think—”

“Do you vow?” Andrew pressed. “On your golden name?”

He was too soft. Derek thudded a fist to his chest. “It stays here. What is it?”

Eyeing him, Andrew pushed up his coat sleeve and linen shirt, exposing the skin beneath. Raised uneven welts that created the word MENTULA were burned across his inner arm. It appeared fresh and was Latin for…

Fear scrambled Derek’s mind and innards. A shaky breath escaped him as his gaze snapped to his brother’s face. “What the hell are you doing to yourself? What is this?”