If He's Sinful. Hannah Howell

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СКАЧАТЬ accepted by all of society but they were still of the aristocracy. One had to be very careful about accusing such people of crimes, even when one was also of the aristocracy. Nor did she have the proof or the social standing she needed to make anyone even listen to her.

      But I will get that proof, she decided, and turned her full attention back to the men. She could see they were outraged by what had happened to her and intrigued by the mystery of it. If that interest proved more than a passing fancy for them, they might well be of some help, but she would not allow herself to hope for much. In truth, she found herself hoping that their interest waned. If they persisted, she would find herself spending time with Radmoor, and when he married Clarissa, Penelope knew she would suffer all the more for having come to know him.

      Instinct told her that getting to know Radmoor would not cure her of her infatuation. The night at the brothel had already made that light, dream-shrouded sensation into something more solid, deeper. Even worse, instead of her gentle, girlish dreams of sweet words and soft kisses, she now had dreams that left her trembling and aching with need, one far stronger than the mild want she had occasionally woken up with before. Lust had firmly clasped hands with infatuation. The only way to protect her heart was to stay as far away from Radmoor as possible, but as she blithely extended an invitation for the men to call again while she escorted them to the door, Penelope knew she did not have the strength to avoid him.

      “What did they want?”

      Penelope squeaked softly and jumped, startled by Artemis’s silent arrival at her side. “They know exactly who I am,” she replied as she went back into the parlor to collect the dishes.

      “How did they find out?” Artemis moved to help her clean up after their guests. “We were careful.”

      “You were, but Radmoor saw the placard by the door. Then his butler rooted about and gave him a lot of information on our family. Now it seems Radmoor and his friends want to know why I was kidnapped.”

      “You know why.”

      “I do not really know why, but I think I know who. I could be wrong. I doubt it, but I could be letting my ill feelings toward Clarissa and Charles lead me into believing them capable of such a heinous crime.”

      “Who else could it be?”

      Penelope shrugged. “I have no idea. I do not really know anyone else, do I? But I intend to look deep and hard for answers.” She smiled. “So it seems do five titled gentlemen.”

      “And so do your brothers.”

      Artemis spoke in such a hard, cold voice that Penelope almost shivered beneath the chill of it. Her brother was becoming more man than boy. It made her heart pinch with grief over the loss of that sweet little boy she had taken care of for years. It was the memory of that little boy, however, that made her want to lock Artemis in the cellar so that he could not put himself in harm’s way. She was certain that looking for answers as to why she had been kidnapped could prove to be very dangerous.

      “Artemis,” she began.

      “I will find out who did that to you, Pen. Do not try to stop me.”

      She ached to do just that but knew it would be impossible. “Just promise me that you will be careful.”

      “I always am.”

      That was a lie and they both knew it. Wherlockes were rarely careful. As they headed toward the kitchen, Penelope resigned herself to worrying about her boys even more than she usually did. A little voice told her she would also be worrying about Radmoor but she gagged it. Radmoor was a grown man, betrothed to Clarissa. He could worry about himself.

      “Are you serious in your intention to find out why Miss Wherlocke was kidnapped?” asked Cornell as he and the others followed Ashton into his study.

      “Deadly serious,” Ashton replied as he poured himself a brandy and waved the others over to help themselves. “If naught else, she is the daughter of a marquis, and despite what appears to be a very large family of virile males”—he ignored his friends’ laughter—“she has no protector. I believe all those boys would do anything for her, but they are, after all, just boys.” He sat down at his desk and put his feet up on it.

      “So you have decided we must step into that role?”

      Looking at his friends sprawled comfortably in their seats and watching him closely, he nodded. “Mayhap it is because I have sisters, but it chills me to think of what could have happened to her. Even I did not heed what she said and I consider myself a reasonable and fair man. Once my head cleared, I realized it was not just what she said that indicated her innocence and quality. There were many signs I just ignored. Someone ordered that kidnapping and I want to know who.”

      “I want to know why. She has nothing but ten little boys, bastard get of her kinsmen, and a house in a neighborhood but one step away from unsavory,” said Brant and then he frowned. “Thwarted lust?”

      “Whose?” Aside from mine, Ashton thought with a sigh. “It appears she has been kept hidden away in the attics like some mad aunt. And, God rot it, why do the Hutton-Moores treat her so? Was it not her mother who helped pull them up to the precarious position they now hold in society?”

      Cornell suddenly sat up straight. “It was. It was her money, her house, her good name.” He nodded when the other men tensed and frowned. “Why is Miss Wherlocke not a much sought after heiress?”

      “Her mother might not have had the sense to protect all her assets from the late baron’s greed,” Ashton said, but he did not believe strongly in his own words. “Mayhap her father’s death was sudden and no will…” He stopped and shook his head. “Of course there was a will. The moment the man gained his title, what family he had near would have started clamoring for him to make one. I think the Hutton-Moores need a closer look.”

      “As does the late marquis of Salterwood. Mayhap he was as feckless with his money as he was with his seed.”

      “You need not help, any of you. I am the one who nearly dishonored her. None of you wronged her.”

      “The woman cares for ten by-blows simply because they are of her blood,” drawled Brant. “How can I call myself a gentleman if I turn my back on such a woman when she is in need?”

      They all toasted Penelope for her care of those whom many ignored or abandoned and began to discuss what information they needed to hunt down. Ashton could not shake out of his head the idea that his fiancée and her brother were involved. The thought kept whispering in his ear like a seductress. It was past time he looked into the affairs of the Hutton-Moores himself instead of leaving it to others.

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