“In or out?” the dealer asked impatiently.
The decision was made. Benjamin gathered up the money he had been about to toss down and shoved it in the inside of his jacket pocket before he left the establishment.
The baron hailed a hackney because he didn’t have the luxury of his own carriage any longer and made his way to the popular gaming den near Westminster. He sat in the worn confines of the public transport and frowned as he looked out the window at the darkening skies. He allowed his thoughts to turn sour as he began to lament the misfortunes of his past dealings with Mrs. Dove-Lyon.
When his father had died some years ago and he’d become the baron, Benjamin had packed up his belongings with his mother and together, they had left the dilapidated estate he’d been left and made their way to London. In short order, Lady Agnes Fontaine had managed to secure a wealthy second husband. When he’d become ill, Benjamin easily assumed the position as man of the house, something he’d been denied by the whoremongering man who had sired him.
Unfortunately, the single impediment he’d found in being in full control of this new life was his stepfather’s daughter, Miss Beatrice Bookbinder. However, when she had been left an orphan, Benjamin had found a way to deal with her, ensuring that there were no further distractions in his way.
That was when Mrs. Dove-Lyon had interceded where she didn’t belong. She’d summoned Laird Garrison and he’d become a prospective bridegroom for Beatrice. It hadn’t mattered to Benjamin that Beatrice had no longer been his concern, but he had not been pleased that she’d actually seemed to fancy the older brute. Benjamin had attempted to gain Beatrice’s regard with no luck and to think she preferred someone like the burly Scotsman had not sat well with him. In retaliation, Benjamin had seduced Beatrice’s best friend, Daria, and convinced her to run away with him when she’d discovered she had been increasing. And when he’d discovered her sudden windfall of wealth.
His revenge had been perfect.
Except for the one person who continued to elude him.
The Black Widow.
Since he had some time before he paid his nemesis a visit, Benjamin was dropped off at his current residence, the flat he’d shared with his wife.
When he walked inside, he blinked against the onslaught of guilt that swamped him whenever he was here. These days, he preferred to spend his time at the local brothel, but it never completely erased the memory of Daria’s last days as she had given birth to their stillborn son and died shortly thereafter from the strain of his birth.
Murderer…
Benjamin clutched at his head as the epitaph screamed in his mind.
He stumbled into the study, where he kept a steady supply of spirits for when he had to enter this wretched place. Daria had devoted her life to God before he’d swept into her life and used her fascination for him as a tool to destroy her.
Murderer…
He clenched his jaw as he removed the stopper from the brandy decanter and drank straight from the bottle. Closing his eyes against the burn, it sent fire to the pit of his stomach, but it would be nothing less than what fate awaited him after his death for causing the demise of one so innocent and pure of heart. Surely, he had killed her with his bare hands with the amount of inordinate suffering she’d endured. The screams were forever imprinted on his mind as well as the accusations that his mind hurled at him.
He’d already done so many things to ensure that his soul was damned forever. What was one more black mark against him?
When it was nearly time for his appointment, he hailed another hackney and gave the driver his direction, the bottle of brandy still clutched in his grasp.
By the timeCatherine had made it back to her parents’ affluent townhouse in Mayfair, she was eager to part ways with her mother. The duchess had scolded her all the way back across town and Catherine had heard enough of the same tirade for today.
Unfortunately, the duchess was eager to give a full recounting to her husband and believed that Catherine needed to be part of the exchange.
She walked into her father’s study, his masculine domain, and flopped down on the settee, gaining another dark glare from her mother. “I believe Mrs. Dove-Lyon can assist with our little problem,” she told the duke, who had yet to glance up from his paper and acknowledge either of them.
Catherine wasn’t surprised. Most of her childhood had been spent behind the black-and-white print of theTimesor staring at his retreating back as the duke had left for his “club.” It wasn’t until she’d been closer to her maturity had she realized that White’s wasn’t open twenty-four hours a day and he was really going to swive his latest mistress. Her mother wasn’t any less circumspect, however, for she usually had a “special errand” to run and would return hours later looking quite flushed and rather energized.
And yet Catherine had only followed in their footsteps and found herself at the end of the parson’s noose. Her mother had claimed that it was merely because Catherine was unwedandpregnant that made it the wrong thing to do. Whereas extramarital affairs were commonplace in society and acceptable so long as one was discreet.
Catherine had wanted to laugh out loud at that because neither her father nor her mother were the model of propriety when it came to their peccadilloes. The proof was in the rumors she would overhearbehind the fluttering fans in the middle of a crowded ballroom. The gossip would stay with her long after she had returned home, so Catherine had decided that once they had retired to the duke’s estate for the summer, she would learn what was so thrilling about lying with someone who wasn’t one’s husband.
And now she was being punished.
She plucked at an invisible strand on the cushion and adopted a bored expression. She knew that bothered her parents more than if she were to beg and plead to be released from this ridiculous arrangement that her mother was so proud of.
“Catherine.”
At the sound of her father’s commanding voice, she raised her head and smiled innocently. “Yes, Papa?”
A scowl immediately crossed his face. “You will recall you are the daughter of a long and esteemed family line. This union will take place as your mother instructs. There will be no further show of rebellion or you will be struck from my thoughts henceforth. Do I make myself clear?”
She yearned to stand up and walk out of the room without giving either of her parents a second thought, but since she was a woman with little else to recommend her but the Cecil name, she gritted her teeth and replied as an obedient daughter should. “Perfectly.”
