In Bed With The Devil Part 7

"You're bullying her. Can't you see that she's terrified by the thought of marriage to you? Not that I can blame her if this is the way you plan to treat her once you're married."

"No," Frannie said. "No, not marriage to Luke, but marriage to what he represents."

"The n.o.bility, the peerage, the upper crust of society. Do you really believe we're so different?"

"Yes. You have all these rules-"

"Which can be learned, and Lord Claybourne a.s.sures me you're extremely bright and will pick up on the subtle nuances of our society in no time. So shall we get to it?"

Frannie looked at Claybourne, looked at Catherine. She appeared to be completely defeated. "Yes, of course."

Catherine stepped into the room, wondering why in the world Claybourne would want a mouse for a wife. It seemed that more than lessons on etiquette were in order. "You, Lord Claybourne, may leave."

He took a step nearer and leaned toward her. "Be gentle with her."

"I shall do what needs to be done in order to gain what I want."

"If you bring her tears-"

"For G.o.d's sake, I'm not a monster."

He started to open his mouth.

"Shh! I'll not tolerate your interference in this matter. Take Mr. Dodger with you as I don't much care for him. Be sure to close the door smartly on your way out."

A muscle in his jaw jumped, and she thought she should be frightened by the dark look he gave her. But for some strange reason she wasn't afraid of the Devil Earl. She never had been.

He spun on his heel, strode from the room, and slammed the door in his wake. She did take perverse satisfaction in p.r.i.c.king his temper. She turned her attention to the woman who was no doubt older than she, but somehow seemed younger. "h.e.l.lo, Frannie. I'm Catherine."

"Lady Catherine."

"Only in formal situations. Among friends I'm Catherine."

"And you expect us to be friends?"

"I do indeed." She sat in a nearby chair. "Now, tell me the true reason you don't want to marry Claybourne."

"I like her," Jack said. "I like her a lot."

Luke tossed back the whiskey Jack had poured for him before pressing the gla.s.s and his ear to the wall in Jack's sanctuary-a room nestled beside Frannie's. d.a.m.nation, he couldn't hear a b.l.o.o.d.y word.

Jack took the gla.s.s from him, refilled it, and handed it back. "She has a lot of s.p.u.n.k."

"She's d.a.m.ned irritating is what she is. I'm already regretting the bargain."

"She's a beauty."

Luke slumped down into a chair. "I hadn't noticed."

"She'd make a dead man sit up in his coffin. d.a.m.n, I might even be willing to kill a bloke myself to earn her favor."

"I'm not doing it to earn her favor."

"I know. You're doing it to earn Frannie's."

They fell into contemplative silence until Jack asked, "Do you think unmarried women fantasize?"

Luke looked up. "About what?"

"About bedding."

"No. They wouldn't know where to begin."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why wouldn't they know where to begin?"

"Because they don't know the first thing about what goes on between a man and a woman."

"Once they've learned they could fantasize."

"Possibly."

"So Lady Catherine isn't a virgin."

Luke had a strange reaction. His entire body tightened and he felt a need to...what? Defend the lady's honor? Strike out at whoever had taken her innocence? Had someone forced his attentions on her? Was that the reason she wanted him killed?

"Why do you say that?" he asked.

"She indicated that she fantasized about men. Now I'm left to wonder if women would pay to have their fantasies realized. Perhaps we should expand our business to include offerings for ladies."

"Don't be ridiculous. Men have a need that women don't."

"I spend a good deal of my day contemplating various tantalizing aspects of women, not to mention all the various exciting things I could do with them. You don't believe they think about men?"

"No, they ponder gowns and tea and needlework."

"I'm not so certain. Maybe I'll ask Catherine-"

"She's Lady Catherine to you-and stay away from her, Jack."

"A bit difficult to manage when you bring her into my establishment."

"I have no choice. Frannie lives here and works here, and she seldom leaves. As you well know, night works best for clandestine encounters."

"You ordered me to stay away from Frannie, and I have done so. I flirt with her not at all. You can have only one woman, Luke, and you have claimed Frannie. I will do with Catherine as I please."

Luke came to his feet with such force that his whiskey sloshed over the sides of his gla.s.s as he towered over Jack. "You will leave her be."

He didn't like the way Jack was studying him, with a speculative gleam in his eye. Nor did he particularly like the fury emanating from him at the thought of Jack giving Catherine any attention at all. What was the matter with him? What did he care who gave her attention? But just the thought of her with someone else set his blood to boiling.

"As you wish," Jack said. "For now. Because you are my friend. But never make the mistake of thinking that you are my master."

Luke eased back and set the gla.s.s on the desk. "I'm off to play cards."

He needed something to distract himself from his unsettling thoughts. He'd almost smashed his fist into Jack's face, almost ground out that Catherine was his. He'd never had such a visceral reaction where Frannie was concerned, so why did he feel so possessive of Catherine?

She was nothing, simply a means to an end. While Frannie was everything.

"You need to be wary of Jack Dodger."

It was nearly three in the morning, and Catherine was completely drained of all energy. They were traveling in the coach without benefit of light so they had little risk of being seen and recognized, not that she thought there was any chance of anyone she knew being about this time of night. He'd also drawn curtains over the windows. She thought the precautions extreme, but then she suspected he was accustomed to lurking about and knew best how to achieve anonymity.

"Why is that, my lord?"

"You intrigue him, and like me, he would ruin you without remorse."

"And you think I'd fall under his charms?"

"If he sets his mind to it, yes. Many a woman has."

She laughed lightly. "I a.s.sure you he doesn't interest me in the least."

"He's a handsome devil."

"Again, my lord, I'm amazed you'd think me so shallow. My opinion of a man is not influenced by something over which he has no control-such as comely features. I base my opinion solely on his character." Which was the reason that she had such a low opinion of Claybourne. His character was questionable-in the extreme. But in spite of that, he still fascinated her-Drat him! "How is it that you know Mr. Dodger?"

"How much do you know of my past?"

"I know you were orphaned. I know you spent a part of your youth living in the streets. Other than that, and what you've so kindly revealed, very little." Still, a s.h.i.+ver went up her back. Here she was in a coach, in the dark, with a man who'd admitted to murder and deception, a man who'd taken her to a gaming h.e.l.l as though it was the proper place for a woman.

"He was one of Feagan's lads," Claybourne said. "As was I."

"And who was Feagan?"

"The kidsman who managed our little band of child thieves, taught us our craft."

"How many of you were there?"

"A dozen or so. It changed, depending on who was caught and who was recruited."

"And Frannie?"

"She's one of us as well."

"You've had a very different upbringing than most lords."

"Indeed."

"Is that where you learned to kill?"

"No, it's where I learned to steal."

"To pick pockets?"

"I was more p.r.o.ne to fleecing. Jack was the pickpocket."

"And Frannie?"

"The distraction."

"Do you miss it?"

"What? Living on the streets? Being filthy, cold, and hungry? No. Never."

She wished she could see him more clearly in the shadows. She knew she shouldn't be intrigued by him, and yet she was. While she'd accused him of bullying Frannie, he'd not really been unkind or forceful with her. He'd only dared to let his frustration show.

That more than anything reinforced to her his strong feelings for the woman. He guarded his emotions so carefully, but around Frannie he'd revealed them.

"I deduced that you don't believe you're the true heir to Claybourne. Forgive me for my naivete, but why let the previous earl believe you were?"

He slipped his finger beneath the curtain, moved it aside slightly, and gazed out. She wondered if he was trying to determine their location. Or perhaps he was searching for an answer to her question.

"They were going to hang me," he said quietly, releasing the curtain. It fluttered back into place.

Her stomach knotted at the thought of him facing the gallows. "I can understand that under the circ.u.mstances, anyone would have done the same, pretended to be someone he wasn't. But once you were free, why not run back to where you belonged? You stole the t.i.tle and all that came with it."

"It was more than trying to save my neck," he said quietly, almost as though he was lost in the moment. "Have you ever wanted something so badly that you would do anything, believe anything in order to acquire it?"

"I would think our present arrangement would confirm that indeed I have."

"No, I'm talking about wanting something more badly than that, wanting it with such yearning that you would be willing to deceive yourself in order to acquire it. That was how the old gent was. I saw in his eyes how desperate he was to find his grandson, how desperate he was that I be that child-"

"And you took advantage."

"That is one way to look upon it-and I readily admit that there are nights when I view my actions in that way."

"How else could you look at it?"

"I gave him what all of us want and few of us acquire: our deepest desires. There was nothing he wanted more than to once again have in his life the son of his first-born. And so I became what he wanted."

"There is that odd honesty in you again. You make it sound almost n.o.ble."

"No, not n.o.ble. Not in the least. He provided me with an opportunity to live, and I s.n.a.t.c.hed it as quickly and as humbly as I could. I wish I had been his grandson. He showered me with love that rightfully belonged to another, and that I was never comfortable with."

"The love he gave you was yours. Even if he thought you were another, what he felt for you came about because he came to care for you."