“I appreciate a woman who knows what she wants and is not afraid to grasp it.” He sat up straighter in the bed. “I also hope that you will heed my warning when I say that Mr. Steele is not as innocent as he claims to be. You are aware of his father’s history?”
She rolled her eyes. “If you wish to convey that his father was responsible for some terrible things, I can assure you he has already divulged that information to me.”
“Indeed. But did Mr. Steele tell you that he also spent time in a private asylum after his mother’s violent murder?” She could feel her eyes widen. “I can see he omitted that part. In that regard, I am certain he failed to mention another slight against his character, that the reason he chooses to set himself apart from others and live in solitude is not because he is afraid he will act upon those maddening urges, but that he might do so again.”
A shiver slowly traveled up Aislynn’s spine. “What are you talking about?”
He reclined against the pillows against his back. “If you want the details, I would ask Mary Spade to provide that. She is a direct result of his madness. See if she will give you the truth you are asking for.” He lowered his voice. “What I am giving you is merely a caution, Miss Sims. Do not allow yourself to be drawn into Mr. Steele’s dangerous persuasion. I cannot prove that he is the murderer that you are searching for, I can only warn you to keep your distance because I can also not prove he is not that man.”
Chapter
Ten
After a restless night, in which his thoughts were consumed with Aislynn, Cordell awoke the next morning prepared to set out for Whitechapel. He considered leaving without his charming companion, but he knew it would be a mistake if he did. He had engaged in a compromise, however reluctant, and he did not want to break the tenable bond of trust that they had established. It was bad enough that he’d allowed himself to get swept up in their combined lust. He had nearly forgotten himself and the vow of celibacy he had taken all those years ago. While there were various methods to prevent the creation of a child, the most sure and effective was to abstain from temptation. He wanted to laugh the first time he’d been called a libertine but he knew it was because he was a frequent guest at Spades. Besides, who was he to shake off other people’s notion of who he was? No one would believe him if he attempted to explain that all of his meetings with the mistress were completely platonic in nature, so he’d allowed the rumor mill to run away with the idea that he was a licentious rake.
Heading up the stairs to see if the reason for his insomnia was awake, he reached the second-floor landing to see her leaving The Wolf’s room. The image of her perfect, pink lips wrapped around his cock the night before immediately intruded and he frowned at the image of her performing the same pleasurable task on his convalescing guest.
Since he didn’t want to come to any unnecessary conclusions, he kept his voice level when he said, “Good morning.”
She jumped and turned toward him almost guiltily. His focus narrowed. “Er… Mr. Steele,” she murmured. Why could she not seem to fully look him in the eye?
Could it be that her intentions toward The Wolf were not as innocent as they might seem? Or perhaps she was merely embarrassed from their steamy interlude?
Whatever the reason, Cordell decided to push aside any further consideration for the moment and concentrated on the current objective. “I wanted to tell you I was planning to go to Whitechapel this morning if you still wish to join me. Or have you seen reason and decided to stay here?”
She finally met his gaze. “Let me grab my cloak.”
He sighed, as that was the answer to his question, just not the one he’d been hoping for.
When she rejoined him, they headed to the street where they hailed down a passing hackney. They always seemed to be in abundance around the more prominent areas of the West End, likely because they were eager to lighten the blunt from society’s social elite. Cordell made sure to tip all his drivers handsomely because it wasn’t so long ago that he would have enjoyed the same courtesy. His uncle, the Duke of Otlingham, had taught him how to be generous to those less fortunate when Cordell had stayed with him for a brief time after his mother’s death and his father’s arrest for the crime. For someone they called the “mad duke” because Otlingham preferred his solitude, Cordell knew that couldn’t be further from the truth. He had witnessed madness with his own eyes, saw his father wield the weapon that had caused his mother’s demise, and the eyes that looked out at the world with an imbalanced light shining in their depths was not something that Cordell would ever forget. To this day it caused a shiver to crawl down his spine and turn his stomach from the memory of it.
He allowed the silence to envelop the interior of the carriage as they made their way to Whitechapel. Miss Flynn’s body had been discovered at the Royalty Theatre in Wellclose Square. It was the most prominent theatre in the East End, but not quite as well-known as Drury Lane or anywhere else in the West End of London where the ton generally frequented. Cordell had found his way to the Royalty on several occasions in the hunt for suspects in various crimes. Although it was just as grand as its lavish competition further down the Thames, there were marks against the establishment from the instant it opened, all of which revolved around politics and licensures. Eventually, those problems were sorted out and it opened to rave reviews and critical acclaim from those that dared to step foot over the threshold and risk the ire of the West End patrons.
As the hackney finally rolled to a halt, he dared to glance over at his lovely companion. Her head was turned, her profile in full view. He had to clench his fist to keep from reaching out and gently running his hand along that smooth cheek. More than that, he wanted to lose himself beneath her skirts until she was writhing and moaning his name. For someone who had not actually enjoyed intercourse with a woman, he knew every other way to accomplish sensual pleasure. The girls at Spades had made sure he had a thorough education over the years and he was grateful for their tutelage in more ways than one.
“I thought I had been to every theatre in London, but I have never set foot in the Royalty.”
“No doubt you were dissuaded from doing so,” Cordell drawled. “It is not an establishment that has ever been well received by the owners hoping to keep the attention of the upper ten thousand, although there have been notable actors, such as David Garrick, who have passed through these very same doors.”
“Impressive,” she murmured. “It seems I should keep my options open should anything happen to my position at the Theatre Royal.”
Cordell didn’t like the resignation in her tone. “Do not think you are alone, Aislynn. I said I would assist you in any way I could and I meant that.”
For the first time since they had set out, she set her gaze upon him. “I really want to believe that, Cordell.”
“You should, because I only speak the truth.”
He climbed out of the carriage and offered a hand to assist her down.
Aislynn made sure that their touch did not linger. As soon as she was safely on the ground, she slid her hand out of his grasp. His brow furrowed slightly, but she was not in the state of mind to elaborate her sudden reticence. What could she say exactly? I know I was practically begging you to bed me last night, yet this morning, after a brief conversation with a man who goes by the name of a fierce, woodland creature, I am inclined to believe you are the vicious murderer you are chasing down.
Absolutely ridiculous. She would be the one who sounded mad if she made such a preposterous suggestion. And yet, there was enough doubt planted in her mind that she couldn’t discount it completely. What if what The Wolf had said had a slight kernel of truth to it? What if, as he claimed, Mary Spade knew more about Cordell than she wanted to admit? And yes, it was true that Cordell had mentioned his father’s illness, but what had happened to Cordell that caused him to be sent away himself? Witnessing the cruelty in which his father had acted had surely not spurned such harsh actions. Something else must have caused the need for temporary confinement in a private asylum. She had heard him speak of his uncle, the Duke of Otlingham, when he had sent the earl on his way that night at the theatre. Could it be that money had been the main cure for his illness, that whatever had happened to Cordell had been quietly covered up?
Aislynn wanted to cover her ears with her hands, to drown out the conjectures continuing to swim about in her head. But perhaps it was fortunate that there was that insurmountable obstacle between them. Not only was there the wall Cordell refused to break when it came to his sexuality, but the conversation she’d had with The Wolf this morning had definitely increased that barrier. She had been growing steadily closer to Cordell, falling deeper under his hypnotic virility, but she was not going to allow her heart, nor her conflicting emotions, to get the better of her again. She would resist him until she knew the truth behind the proverbial mask he was wearing. Until she knew the truth of his actions, she could not fully trust in him.
She needed to speak with Mary and discover what she knew, if the lady would even tell her anything. She seemed to care a lot for Cordell. Who was to say she would answer her questions honestly?
“My name is Cordell Steele. I am here to speak with Mr. Ingram. He should be expecting me.”
