The Regency Redgraves: What an Earl Wants / What a Lady Needs / What a Gentleman Desires / What a Hero Dares. Kasey Michaels

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ But when the chase is over, once you’ve won? Once you’ve solved all the mysteries of the Society, perhaps even found your father’s remains and returned them to the mausoleum? Once you and I have nothing more in common than a need to explore each other’s bodies, a need I see no reason to deny? What then? What of this ring I wear? What of a future beyond tomorrow?”

      He didn’t answer her. He couldn’t answer her. He’d done what he’d done because it was the right thing to do. The Redgraves owed her for all the heartache she’d suffered in her life. That he desired her had been some fortuitous coincidence. But beyond that? Beyond tomorrow? Physical intimacy aside, clearly it was still too early for her to believe they might find love together, something deeper than the passion.

      “I thought as much. Are all men little boys, Gideon? Even you? Not thinking beyond the end of your noses—although I’m sure your grandmother would say that differently? Oh, dear. What to do about Jessica, once you’ve found what you’re looking for, once you’ve tired of her, as you’ve tired of every one of the women you’ve bedded, hmm? This could prove interesting in the end, couldn’t it?”

      “We’re married,” he said at last, knowing his answer wasn’t an answer at all, not to the real question Jessica had put before him. “That is the end of it.”

      “Of course,” she said, turning her attention back to her plate. She picked up her fork. “I’ll see to Kate. You go rouse Adam, as you said, and tell him some home truths. As it is, he’s too eager to slip his leash. Let’s hope you can make him understand why that isn’t a good idea. My worry is he’s had a myriad of strange ideas drummed into his head, so he may think otherwise.”

      “Jessica, I—” Gideon shut his mouth, because he’d nearly said something they’d both regret. Him, because he wasn’t sure if he knew what the word meant, and Jessica, because she’d know it would be too pat to be believable. He doubted he believed it himself. They enjoyed each other; they both admitted that; they even liked each other. But as to more? “I do care for you, Jessica. Beyond what we shared last night.”

      “Thank you,” she said, and then took a bite of what had to be cold eggs.

      Thank you? He’d said he cared for her, and she’d said thank you? What sort of answer was that? She may as well have thrown a bucket of cold pump water in his face.

      “You’re…Yes. I leave Kate in your capable hands, hoping I can do even half so well with the journalkeeping nodcock. I should like to leave for Cavendish Square by one o’clock.” He quit the room then, knowing he should have said more, or less, or anything other than the words he’d chosen.

      And then, halfway up the stairs, he realized he was angry, and not just with himself. They were adults, he and Jessica. They knew what they wanted, and they’d wanted each other. They still wanted each other, unless she had been attempting to tell him that last night—at least the parts before Trixie’s note had arrived—had been enough for her; she hadn’t needed the ring, the vows.

      But he had, damn it!

      It was just understanding why he’d felt he needed them, that was the question, because paying a debt seemed a pitifully lame explanation, even to him… .

       CHAPTER THIRTEEN

      THE DOWAGER COUNTESS turned another page in Turner Collier’s journal and looked at Gideon over the top of a pair of simple half-spectacles. Collier’s name and the year 1809, and beneath that, The Society, were all embossed on the leather cover in gold script. She handled each page with only the tips of her slightly trembling fingers, as if the contact could prove poisonous. “Does the fool even know what this is?” she asked at last.

      Jessica also looked to Gideon, who had been standing at the fireplace, his face an expressionless mask. It was two o’clock, Adam was safely in Portman Square with Seth, his new keeper, and Lady Katherine was already on her way to Redgrave Manor, a young woman on a mission. Jessica could only wish her new sister-in-law hadn’t seemed so eager to begin the hunt.

      “He tells me he never paid all that much attention to it, as he couldn’t understand most of what’s there. He’s only interested in his own conquests, of which I believe half exist purely in his imagination. He only handed over his father’s journal as some sort of afterthought. He’d had it in his room at school, with orders to study it, when word came about his parents’ fatal accident. When he was packed up to come to me in London, it came along with him. Otherwise, we’d never have known it existed.”

      “All these years gone by since I’ve seen one of these, and yet still not enough time to lessen the pain. I believe I’ve succeeded in banishing the memory of those days, gotten past the shame, the horror of it, and then…this. But I suppose it has to be said.” Trixie turned another page and sighed.

      “What is it?” Jessica asked nervously, wondering if she really wanted an answer. The dowager countess’s cheeks were so pale, she feared for her. “Did you recognize a name?”

      “I’ve recognized several. Have you shown this to your wife, Gideon?”

      “No,” he answered and took another sip from his wineglass. “I thought we’d let you tell us what you see.”

      Trixie slipped off the half-spectacles and laid them in her lap. “I see history repeating itself,” she said sadly. “The codes remain the same. For instance, V, of course, stands for virgin, although they saw damn few of them. Playacting, most of it, with willing, highly paid prostitutes. Naughty little boys, drinking, whoring, one trying to outdo the next in manufactured, carefully orchestrated depravities. That’s all most of the hellfire clubs were, back then, Dashwood’s included, from all I’ve heard of the thing. There was a surfeit of deviltry, but little actual devil worship.”

      “Yes, I’d assumed that,” Gideon said tightly, joining Jessica on the couch facing Trixie’s one-armed reclining couch. “And the double V?”

      “You do need to know, unfortunately. This is where your grandfather’s Society differed, pet, and first grew ugly. The letters refer to vestal virgins, the true virgin sacrifices. Jessica, dear, I would rather you left the room until we call you back.”

      “No. If Gideon needs to know, then so do I.”

      Trixie’s mouth worked for a moment, as if she was searching for the least offensive words concerning a subject that had few to offer. “Very well. Vestal virgins. They’re reserved for the highest rite, when a new member is welcomed into the thirteen which, thankfully, isn’t often. The Society takes everything and stands it on its head. Evil for good, wanton for chaste. In ancient Rome, vestal virgins were kept safe from the priests. In the Society, they are for the empowerment of the priests, and become the living altar for the induction rite. The more elevated the vestal virgin, by way of birth and social status, the more power flows to her initiator, who is first, but definitely not last, to approach the altar. I won’t say more than that.”

      Jessica laced her fingers together in her lap, her knuckles white with strain. Gideon covered her hands with his own and murmured something he must have supposed to be comforting. She couldn’t make out the words for the buzzing in her ears. Her father had turned her over for such a rite?

      “Jessica, I’m sorry, but we need to know all of this,” Gideon apologized. “What you’re saying, Trixie, is that five years ago, a new member was to be installed?”

      “And СКАЧАТЬ