The Rogue's Seduction

Ten years ago Lillith, Lady de Lisle, was forced to stand up to the man she loved at the altar in favor of a richer husband. Now a widow, she suddenly finds herself the target of her thwarted lover’s revenge. Jason Beaumair, Earl of Perth, plans to abduct and seduce this beautiful woman in return for her cruel rejection of him. He’ll certainly never fall for her again! But nothing can prepare him for what their night of passion will bring…A widow who was forced to leave the man she loved at the altar to marry a richer man finds herself the target of the scorned gentleman's revenge.

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Excerpt

First, he had come after her in Hyde Park. Then he had taken a bullet in the shoulder to protect her. And lastly, he had ordered a doctor he did not think he needed so that she and the child she carried would be cared for. His concern took her breath away.

She went back to his side with the damp cloth just as someone knocked on the door.

“Come in,” she said, Lying the cloth once more on his forehead.

“My lady,” Simmons said from the doorway, his nose held fastidiously high, “There is a …person…here who says he knows the Earl.”

Lillith smiled. Her butler was a snob. “What type of person is he?”

From the bed Perth asked, “Is he a ruffian with several teeth missing?”

“Yes my lord,” Simmions said barely repressing a shudder. “And filthy.”

Lillith heard Perth chuckle, which was followed by a sharp intake of breath. She whirled around and marched back to his side. “You are to be more careful.”

“I know what I am supposed to be,” he said, throwing the cover off and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “And I know what I intend t be.”

His face turned as white as the sheet riding low on his lean hips and he swayed to the side. Lillith grabbed him and held him to her.

“You may go, Simmons,” she said, not wanting the butler to see what would shortly be happening between her and her husband.

“Tell the man to wait,” Perth ordered just before the door closed. “Or I will have your hide,” he said loudly. On a quieter note, he said, “that ruffian is important. He knows who attacked me several weeks ago and he might be able to find out who shot at us yesterday.
Her brows rose. “That is quite a responsibility for a man that Simmons would just as soon throw out the door.” She eased him into a sitting position against the pillows. “But that is unimportant. You do not feel well and should not be out of bed.”

“Well,” he said, pushing up, “I intend to stand on my own two feet shortly.”

She bent over him and put her palms on his chest to gently push him back. Heat emanated from his flesh even though the fine lawn night shirt he wore. He swore as he fell backwards.

“You are going nowhere. You have a fever.” She kept her hands on him for fear that he would try and rise as soon as she removed them. “Perhaps after Dr Johnson has examined you.”

“I will damn well do what I please, Lillith.” This is not the first time I have had a fever, nor is it the first time I have been wounded. I never stay coddled in bed, and I have no intention of doing so now.” His gaze ran seductively down her. “Unless you have something entertaining in mind that we might do?”

She flushed and her bosom ached. “No,” she snapped.

“A pity,” he said, but with no real sound of regret. “Now you can help me or I will do it in spite of you.”

She met his challenging gaze without blinking. She knew by the tightness of his jaw and the glint in his eyes that he meant what he said.

With a sigh of resignation she ungraciously acquiesced. “As you demand. But let me check your bandage for bleeding first.”

He nodded. She unbuttoned his shirt and slid it off his shoulder. He leant forward enough for her to see the back. The wound was well wrapped. “Fitch changed it during the night,” Perth said. “Ah, that explains why there is no blood.”

“Or none that can be seen.” Perth finished.

“Now are you satisfied? I will even tell you how to tie a sling so that my arm does not pull down on the muscle.”

She moved back. “You obviously know much more about this that I.”

“As I said,” he said with seeming patience, “I have been through this before.”

He once more swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Again he swayed and his face blanched, but he remained upright.

“Stay put long enough for me to get Fitch,” she finally said, irritated with his stubbornness, but not wanting him to hurt himself further.

“No, he ordered. Fitch needs his rest. You can help me; by the time we are done with our visitor, the doctor will be here. After he leaves, we can wake Fitch.”

“That is less than ideal,” she muttered.

For the first time in days he gave her a genuine smile. “It is the best I can offer you. Now, I will make do with a dressing robe over my night shirt. That will be much easer that dressing me.”

She eyed him from the corner of her eye, wondering if the tone of his voice was meant to be sedeductive or teasing or both. The sharp angles of his face and the tension that emanated from him decided her that he meant both.

“Where is your robe?” she asked, backing away from the attraction he had suddenly become. Even wounded he was the most virile man she had ever encountered. She shook her head in wonder and chagrin at her physical weakness where he was concerned.

“Behind that door,” he said, indicating a door she had not noticed before.

She entered his dressing room. A small trundle bed was tucked against one corner for Fetch if he felt the need although Lillith knew the batman had his own suit of rooms, unusual as that was, on the third floor. As she had always known, Fitch was not a servant.

An array of dressing gowns hung from pegs. “Which one do you want?” she called.

“The one you like the best,” he answered, which was no help.

Quickly, so as not t test his patience which she know to be short, she grabbed the nearest one that looked like it would be warm. It was the finest black cashmere embroidered in silver silk dragons. It would be warm and regal. Whoever the person was who waited for them would be suitably impressed.

She came out of the room and went to him. He stood with the help of the bed on which he had a hand of his good arm propped for support.

“I would have helped you,” she said in exasperation.

“I am not a cripple, Lillith,” he said with an edge to his words.

She stared at him. “Of course you are not, but you did not need to risk hurting yourself when I am perfectly capable of supporting you while you try to stand and get your bearings.”

He scowled. “I don’t like being dependent.”  

“No one does,” she retorted, exasperated by his determined independence regardless of whether what he did was best.

“Some more that others,” he stated flatly, holding out his hand for the robe.

She was so disgusted with him that she threw the garment at him. He caught it with his good hand and proceeded to don it. It was small satisfaction when he pulled the sleeve up his bad arm and winced.

 “I might have saved you the pain,” she said acidly. “Let us just hope that you did not start your wound bleeding again.”

“It does not feel like it,” he said, belting the sash.

She noticed he moved with increased confidence. “Some tea and food will help.”

He nodded. “And I am sure that our guest would like some.” He glanced up at her after getting his slippers on. “You could order Simmons to set the breakfast table.”

She closed her mouth on a sharp retort.

“Where is my cane?” he muttered.

Minutes later she found it in the dressing room and brought it out to him. He took it and started slowly towards the door. She followed behind, wondering if she was strong enough to break his fall should he lose his balance.  In the hall she rushed ahead to order the food and find the footman top help Perth down the stairs. Her husband had already started down when she got back.

“Let Robert help you, Perth,” she ordered.

Perth stared pointedly at her. Do you remember someone else using this very cane on these stairs, refusing to be helped? I do.”

 “Well I did not climb all the way, Fitch helped me.”

“I am going down, I think I can manage on my own. It is my shoulder, madam, not my leg.” He took another step down. “You may go, Robert.”

The hapless footman looked from one of them to the other. Fuming, but knowing that Perth would do it his way, much as she had insisted on her way, Lillith said, “Yes Robert, go and tell Simmons we will be down shortly.”

The footman bowed himself away.

Perth continued down the stairs and Lillith followed.

The smells of ham, beef steak, coffee, hot chocolate and toast assailed her senses as she entered the breakfast room she had left barely an hour ago. She Perth take his usual seat. She noted beads of perspiration on his forehead, but he moved with deliberation. Once she was assured that he would do, she studied their guest.

The man was a ruffian and everything Simmons had said about him was true. At the moment, he stuffed his mouth with beefsteak and gammon at the same time. One hand curled around a mug of ale, which he slurped with a full mouth.

Perth watched him with grim satisfaction, the lines around his mouth more pronounced that normal. Simmons entered and served the Earl his favorite gammon steak and kidneys. Eggs sat on a side dish with toast. Strong black coffee steamed in a mug. Perth ate slowly, careful of his wounded shoulder when he cut the food and lifted his fork since he was right-handed, the same side that was hurt.

Lillith sat down beside Perth, their guest having taken her normal place. She took tea and a piece on toast, sipping on one and nibbling on the other. She was not hungry, but she was extremely curious.

The man took his last bite and drank his last gulp, belched and grinned in satisfaction. “Thanks for the food,” he said, his look anything but grateful. “I got the name you want guv.”

Perth carefully set his fork and knife down. “Of the man who hired you to assault me?”

“Assault? Oh, attack you. Yes.” His grin widened. “Got more information I think you will be wanting’. Somethin’ about an attack in “yde Park.”

Lillith jerked in surprise and her tea sloshed over the side of the tea cup to stain the white linen tablecloth. She noted that her husband took the extra news calmly, almost as though he had expected it.

“They were ordered by the same man,” Perth said flatly.

“That’s right,” the other man said, much as one might praise a child that has guessed the correct answer. “Ow much is the flash cove’s name worth to you?”

“I already know the man’s name,” Perth said quietly, his voice sending shivers down
Lillith’s back. “What I want you to do is to tell my wife.” He glanced to Lillith and then back to the man. “I will pay you well.”

The ruffian named a sum of money that made Lillith choke. She expected Perth to say no.

“Simmons” Perth said, “go to the library and open the middle drawer of my desk. You will find a sheaf of bills. Bring them to me.” Simmons left.

“Now the name.”

“First the money.”

“The name.”

 “Ow do I know you’ll keep your word?” The other one didn’t.”

Perth leaned forward, his left hand a fist on the table. “I am not the other man.” His voice was cold. “You will do well to remember that.”

The ruffian edged back in his chair. “Right, guv. Right. No insult. Just can’t always trust a swell cove. They got the blunt, but they don’t always pay.”

Perth’s eyes blazed. “The name.”

“Right. Wentworth.” The man’s grin returned. “Rumor says “e”ired the men what shot at you yesterday, too. Me pal, Mike, says “e “eard it.”

Perth frowned in disbelief. “Tis mote likely your friend Mike was the one who shot me.”

“No gov. No,” the other man said.

Through this Lillith sat frozen. Feeling rushed back like needles. “No,” she murmured.

“No, you are wrong. Your friend is wrong.” But even as she said the words, doubt swamped her. It fitted. It fitted too well. “Oh, no,” she whispered, sinking back into her chair and closing her eyes to close out the faces of the two men.

The ruffian’s eyes widened and he snickered. “Know the cove? “E”s a nasty one, “e is. Nivver paid me what he owed me for attacking the guvnor “ere.”

Lillith opened her eyes and stared the man down. Whether he was right or not, he did not
need to gloat. The urge to reach out and slap the grim from the man’s face was strong. She gripped the edge of the table instead. Her knuckles turned white and her nails dug into the cloth.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

Even as she asked, she knew his answer would not change. Mathias had done too much. But why? It made no sense.

The man’s face darkened. “I ain’t uppity like the likes o” you, but I keeps me word. All I got.” He stood. “I don’t lie.”

“Do you have proof?” she demanded. “Or are we to take your word?”

The ruffian bristled. “Me word is me bond.”

Lillith looked away. All she was doing was taking her hurt and anger out on this man. If Mathias really had done this, then so be it, but until they had proof, she had to give her brother the benefit of the doubt.

Perth rose as well, careful not to move his right are any more than necessary. “I believe you,” he said quietly. “My wife is upset. You shall have your money.”

Simmons returned then with the bills. The pile was an inch thick. Perth took it from Simmons, fanned through it and handed it over.

Surprise made the ruffian’s mouth drop. “This is more than we agreed to.” Take it,” Perth said. “For your honor---and your discretion. I don’t expect to hear another word of yesterday’s incident or this conversation from anyone. Do I make myself clear?”

The man shot back a hard look but he kept the money.” Yes. Thanks. I gotta go,” he added, moving around the table, careful to keep a wide berth between him and Lillith.

“Please show our guest to the door, Simmons,” Perth said.

Simmons bowed and hurried after the man who was scurrying out. Lillith watched them without conscious thought.

“He was lying,” she whispered. “He had to be. Mathias is many things, but he is not a murderer.”  She sank back into her chair and her hands dropped to her lap. Her gaze lifted. “But I understand that you must know for sure.”

Perth watched her find excuses for her brother---again, and the anger that he felt boiled to near-explosion point. “Why do you find it so hard to believe?” he asked harshly.

“He is my brother,” she said as though that explained everything. “And that man just wanted money. He would have said any name. He just came up with Wentworth. He might have even known that was my brother’s name. How do I know?”

“He is the brother who sold you top de Lisle, gambled away your marriage settlement and tried to sell you a second time. He had me hours whipped while he looked on. Why should he not stoop to attacking me and nearly killing us?” he asked, his words nearly a snarl. “Blood does not always mean love.”

She glared back at him.

He might have attacked you.” She drew a deep breath. “I can believe that. I do not doubt that he had you whipped years ago, but he was young. He would never do that now.”
Perth’s voice turned deadly quiet. “If you believe that, then you will not mind confronting him with this man’s accusations. Your brother will deny everything and you will be further assured of his innocence.”

Alerted by his ominous tone Lillith looked at him closely. “You really hade my brighter, don’t you?”

“Yes. He has used you and done everything in his power to physically hurt me.”
She took a deep breath and stood. “All right. I will send a note to Mathias, asking him to call. That way you will not have to travel. I will ask him with you in the room so you can see his reaction too.” She turned away from him and went to the door. She paused before leaving. “Will that satisfy you?”

“Yes,” Perth said.

She did not rise when he left the room. She did not think she could lift her hand, let alone get to her feet. This felt like a nightmare with no happy ending. She had argued for Mathias, but a tiny kernel of pain and doubt made her chest ache.

Mathias had done so many despicable things. But, God, she did not want to believe him capable of this.

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