Mastering a Sinner (5 page)

5

A
listair paced his office, one eye on the clock as he considered for the one-hundredth time exactly what he was going to do about Diana Theale. By the time he’d struggled back into his clothes the previous night and gone in search of her, she’d disappeared. No one had seen her leave, which meant she’d either left in disguise, or had escaped unseen.

He paused, his gaze on the window that looked out over the back of the Sinners toward the mews. Or she hadn’t left at all and had an accomplice within the house of pleasure. If that were the case, it would also make sense of the other disappearance that had occurred within the pleasure house.

He started pacing again. The simplest thing to do would be to approach his employers and ask them if Diana Theale could be removed from her position. But he suspected if he tried that, the ladies would become involved, and then information would be revealed about his private activities that he’d much rather stayed private.

But if he did nothing . . .

With a curse, he gave in to temptation, went out of his office, and walked straight into Diana Theale’s without even knocking.

“Good morning, my lady.”

She glanced up at him and then held up one finger. “Good morning, Mr. Maclean. Would you excuse me for just one more moment? I need to finish this task. Perhaps you might care to come back later at a mutually agreeable time?”

“That’s all right.” He took the seat in front of her desk. “I’ll wait.”

She resumed writing, her pace unhurried and her features composed. She wore another of her serviceable, high-necked gowns that reminded him of a schoolteacher. Her black hair was neat, her fingers bare of jewelry apart from a gold band she wore on her right hand. She wasn’t a beautiful woman, but she was a handsome one. He couldn’t even remember if she’d been dressed differently in the pleasure house the previous night. His shock at seeing her had obliterated all such observations from his mind.

He barely restrained his impatience as she finished her list, inspected it with pursed lips, crossed out three things, and then blotted her page.

“How may I help you, Mr. Maclean?”

“I would like an explanation.”

“About what?”

“About what the devil happened last night.”

“At the pleasure house?”

“Naturally,” he snapped the word out. “Do you usually walk out on men you have ordered to strip naked?”

“I explained why I did that, Mr. Maclean.”

“You—” He took a deep breath. “Perhaps I should try another tack. Why were you watching me at the pleasure house?”

“I believe I told you that as well. Lady M and I share similar tastes. She mentioned you to me, and invited me to watch her school you. When I realized who you were, I tried to think of a way to let you know of my interest without impinging on our professional relationship.”

“You are suggesting that your interest in me has nothing to do with the position I hold here at the Sinners?”

She smiled. “Well, it does add a stimulating element to our potential relationship, doesn’t it?”

He ignored her smile and her attempt at levity. “And what about my brother?”

“What about him?”

“What does Harry have to do with your sudden ‘interest’ in me?”

“Nothing at all.” She raised her eyebrows. “Why are you so obsessed with him? What has he done?”

“He—” Alistair stopped talking.

“Well?”

“Everyone who has admission to the pleasure house knows my brother.”

“I have heard of him, but I can’t say I’ve ever been interested in meeting him.”

“Or making him strip?”

“Oh no, Mr. Mclean. I don’t do that to every man I meet. Only those I wish to further my acquaintance with.”

He ignored the surge of interest that comment aroused in him and forced himself to go back to his list of prepared questions.

“Be that as it may, one might wonder how you miraculously managed to be in the right place at the right time.”

“It was rather remarkable, wasn’t it?”

He met her gaze, but she didn’t blink, and he was the first to look away.

“If I told our employers that you were attempting to blackmail me, they would terminate your employment immediately.”

She tapped the top of her quill pen against her top lip. “I don’t think they would. They are both members of the pleasure house. Nothing you do there would shock them.”

“You’re suggesting that if I tried to have you dismissed, you wouldn’t feel obliged to share those details of our time in the pleasure house with my employers?”

She folded her hands together on the desk. “As I’ve already pointed out, I don’t intend to blackmail you. If you don’t wish to pursue a relationship with me that’s perfectly fine, but please don’t use
that
as an excuse to avoid it.”

“I’m not trying to avoid anything, I’m merely trying to establish what is going on here.”

She sighed as though he had disappointed her. “Excuse me for being frank, Mr. Mclean, but both of us need to earn a wage, and neither of us wishes to leave our present positions. Am I correct?”

At his reluctant nod, she continued. “So neither of us will risk betraying the other.”

“We are at a stalemate?” Alistair asked. “I don’t request your dismissal and you keep quiet about what you think you know about my activities at the pleasure house?”

She nodded. “It seems fair. Our business relationship has nothing to do with our private liaison at the pleasure house.”

Alistair rose to his feet. “It’s far simpler than that, my lady. We
have
no private relationship, and we never will have.” He inclined his head a frosty inch. “Good morning, Lady Theale.”

He’d reached the door before she spoke again.

“If you do change your mind about that, Mr. Maclean, please meet me in the same room on the top floor at midnight this Friday. I will expect you to be naked and on your knees.”

He looked over his shoulder at her. “Go to the devil, Lady Theale.”

She blew him a kiss and returned her attention to her work. Alistair slammed the door behind him and stormed into his office. He stood and stared at his desk for several minutes as if he didn’t know what it was.

Damn
her. She’d had her chance. He would never abase himself at her feet again. She bloody
unnerved
him and that was completely unacceptable.

He made his way to his chair and sat down, his head in his hands. After a few deep calming breaths, he picked up the first letter on the pile on his blotter and slit the seal with his knife. Smoothing out the paper, he read the contents about four times before they started to make sense and even then he was confused.

The letter was a politely worded request for him to repay a gambling debt of a thousand guineas to the Demon Club.

He didn’t gamble, and he was fairly certain that he’d never been to any club of that name. He read the letter again and turned it over to see the seal and to whom it was addressed.

Ah. It was addressed to Mr. Maclean, which made sense. It wasn’t the first time he’d been sent a bill for his brother’s debt. He would forward the letter to Harry’s lodgings and ignore it. He considered the expensive writing paper and the fashionable address. Perhaps he should apprise the sender of his brother’s direction. But he didn’t wish to be the architect of his brother’s downfall, and Harry blamed him for everything anyway.

With a sigh, he drew out a fresh piece of paper, wrote his brother’s name and address on it, and wrapped it around the original letter without adding anything. It was time for Harry to grow up and take care of his own debts. Placing the letter in the tray for delivery, he turned back to his pile of correspondence and continued to apply himself.

Unfortunately, Diana Theale’s words rankled and kept running through his head. She thought him a coward who manipulated women to give him what he wanted. She was completely wrong, of course. He gave his lovers what they
craved,
a man on his knees who allowed them to dictate to him. He remembered stripping for her, the anger he’d felt, the intense desire to show her that he was everything and more than she would ever need....

And she’d walked away from him.

Alistair lifted his gaze and stared at the door. He wanted to prove that she was wrong, but that meant putting himself in a potentially vulnerable position and he hated that. But what if he called her bluff and brought
her
to her knees and then
he
walked away? That would make his apparent submission as meaningless as her argument that he was a coward and show her that she was just as weak as he was.

But he had to be cautious. He still wasn’t convinced that her interest in him was accidental. There were very few coincidences in life, and her appearance at the pleasure house
and
at the Sinners bore close examination. Of course, if she capitulated to him in bed, he might find out exactly what was going on there as well....

Dammit, he had to stop thinking about her. It was too dangerous. Ignoring the sound of female laughter outside his office, he forced himself to work. Nothing good would come of his involvement with Diana Theale. He would do well to remember that.

 

Diana put down her pen and wiggled her fingers. She’d been writing for hours and needed to escape her desk. Even as she had the thought, she chided herself for complaining. Being a secretary was the easiest job she’d ever had. It was far better than being paid to lie on her back or placating an older husband.

She’d worked hard to recover her social status, and she would work even harder to maintain it. The generous wage she was paid by her employers would be fully earned even if she had taken the job under false pretenses and had to leave.

A knock at the door made her look up. Was it Mr. Maclean wanting a second chance to argue with her? Or even better, begging for the chance to capitulate completely? She considered what she would do if he did. Would she make him strip right there in her office? Make him come on her desk while she spanked him with her wooden ruler?

“Diana?”

Nico’s head appeared around the door.

She smiled at him. “Come in.”

Her stepson closed the door behind him and took the seat in front of her desk. He wore his usual sober black coat and trousers, brown waistcoat, and modestly tied cravat. His ability to disappear into a crowd and remain anonymous was part of the reason for his success in discovering the kind of information that was never meant to surface. He had an amazing ability to fit the pieces of a scandal together and detect the lies.

She’d liked him from the moment she’d met him and trusted him more than anyone apart from Charlotte. Despite her being his father’s wife, they were almost the same age. They had been mistaken for siblings more than once, which had enraged her husband. But then everything had enraged him by the end.

Nico took out his notebook and placed it on his knee. “What’s going on, Di? Why are you here?”

“Because I needed a job. You know that.”

“But why here?”

“Why not?”

He frowned at her, reminding him rather of his father. “Your interest in the Sinners Club has always been excessive.”

“Then perhaps I am finally in the right place.”

“Di . . .” He sighed. “I’ve already told you. There is nothing here for you. This place wasn’t even established until 1815. The official records, which are very few, start from there. I’ve
checked
.”

“I know you have. I also know these people are your friends and your employers and I don’t wish to destroy that relationship. You’ve done everything you can. The rest is up to me.” She held his worried brown gaze. “All I ask is that you don’t tell them anything that might lead to them drawing the wrong conclusions.”

“The right ones, you mean.” Nico grimaced. “That’s actually why I’m here.” He consulted a page of his notebook. “I had a message from Alistair Maclean this morning asking if the usual checks on your past had been completed before you were employed.”

“And what did you say to that?”

He looked up. “I haven’t said anything yet. Until I read his note, I didn’t even know you’d taken the extraordinary step of becoming Lady Benedict and the countess’s secretary.” He hesitated. “I wish you’d consulted with me first. I’m very fond of the countess. She has always believed in me.”

Diana fought down a wave of guilt. “I swear I’ll do everything in my power to protect you from my actions, Nico, but I have to know. You do see that, don’t you?”

“I suppose I do.” He fidgeted with his notebook. “Finding my father was the quest that set me off on my investigative career. If it hadn’t been for that, I would never have crossed paths with the gentlemen of the Sinners.”

“What are you going to tell Mr. Maclean?”

“That I can’t investigate my own stepmother.”

She smiled at him. “Thank you.”

“I owe you a lot. You forced my father to acknowledge my existence.”

“Much good it did us,” she muttered, and he grinned. “We were both cut out of his will after that.”

“But we survived, didn’t we?” He paused. “What if you can’t find what you seek?”

“Then I have a perfectly respectable position as a secretary to two peeresses of the realm. I might set a new fashion.” She rose from her seat and went around to him. “I know it’s unlikely that I’ll be able to find anything, but I have to try.”

“What if I just—asked
for
you, as though the matter had suddenly come to my attention?”

“Because I don’t want to involve you in this.”

“But if you succeed and find your evidence, suspicion will automatically fall on me because we are connected.”

“Not if I take all the credit for myself and insist you knew nothing.”

He grimaced. “I don’t like this, Diana.”