He had wanted to give her the words burning in his heart. But he didn’t. Not because he didn’t love her—because God knew he did—but because when he offered her his love, he wanted it to be worthy of her.
He was a man who’d done too much damage. Even though Livy accepted his sins, he yearned to go to her with a clean slate. While he did not know if absolution was possible, he did know that Fate had put him in the present situation for a reason: he had the power to stop the Devil’s Bliss from taking more lives. This was his shot at redemption, and for Livy, for their future together, he had to see this plan through.
“I will admit the loss of Arabella clouded my judgement.” Ben kept his manner nonchalant. “I thought I needed a change, something different. Since the grief has passed, I see that what I truly need is more stimulation, not less.” He twisted his lips into a derisive smile. “Life is too short as it is, and I have no wish to be bored to death.”
A pause. Edgecombe gave a bark of laughter, the others joining in.
Edgecombe waved him to a chair. “Have a seat, Hadleigh.”
“But that’s my chair,” Stamford whined.
“Find yourself another. We have a guest,” Edgecombe said sharply.
Ben did not miss Stamford’s fulminating glance, nor Edgecombe’s emphasis on the wordguest. He knew he had other hurdles to pass before he would be allowed back into the group and given access to the secrets that would bring down their operation once and for all.
Knowing the dog-eat-dog nature of the men in the room, he took Stamford’s chair with deliberate arrogance. “It is good to be sitting amongst old friends. Especially ones so enterprising.”
Edgecombe handed him a whisky, which he had no choice but to take.
“To old friends,” the earl said silkily.
Ben raised his glass and took a sip, his first taste of spirits in nearly two years. The seductive burn clenched his gut. Yet he had toplay the part of the rakehell to win the group’s trust.
He took another sip. “As Longmere’s replacement, I believe I have much to offer.”
“First of all, we haven’t agreed upon anything.” Bollinger moistened his lips. “Secondly, what could you have to offer?”
“I am a duke. My title affords me many connections,” he said. “All of which may be used to promote the circulation of the Devil’s Bliss.”
“We all know you’re as rich as Croesus,” Thorne said suspiciously. “Why d-do you want a part of this h-hypothetical venture?”
“A man can never be too rich. Money, however, accounts for only part of my interest.”
Stamford’s close-set eyes were skeptical. He’d dragged a wooden chair to the circle. It looked uncomfortable, the seat putting him at a lower level than the rest of the men.
“Why else would you want to poke your nose in our business?” he said in nasally syllables.
“Because, dear fellow, Ican.” Ben gave him a condescending smile. “This is before your time with the Horsemen, but the other gentlemen know that I am a man who enjoys diversions with an element of danger. Nothing works better forennuithan the forbidden.”
“You always were the w-wildest of us,” Thorne admitted reluctantly.
Edgecombe’s mouth formed a sly curve. “You and your duchess.”
Ignoring the bait, Ben said, “Arabella was always one for an unusual adventure. She would have found the Devil’s Bliss delightful, no doubt.”
“You cannot just barge in and claim a share of something that isn’t yours,” Stamford burst out.
“Can’t I?” Ben crossed an ankle over his knee, his posture relaxed and gaze challenging. “Longmere told me that men have died because of your goods.” He took a calculated risk. “Baron Winford and John Hagan, for instance.”
A heavy silence fell.
“There is no proof that their deaths had anything to do with our product,” Edgecombe said defensively. “Countless people have taken the Devil’s Bliss with no harmful effects.”
“Our clients have reported nothing but the purest pleasure.” Bollinger crossed his arms over his chest, his jowls reddening above his cravat. “To accuse us of harming anyone is slanderous—”
“No need to get up in the boughs, old boys. As far as I am concerned, no risk, no pleasure, and anyone who partakes of Devil’s Bliss is making their own choice.” Ben paused, just long enough for the others to let their guards down. “However, the authorities might have a differing viewpoint of your enterprise. And they would undoubtedly frown upon your connection with a Chinese mastermind whose product is killing Englishmen.”
“Are you b-blackmailing us, Hadleigh?” Thorne’s tone was icy.
