Page 15 of A Whisper Of Desire (The Disgraced Lords #4)

Chapter Seven

M aitland was not surprised when Marisa did not join him for breakfast at nine the next morning. Whether she was still asleep, as most young ladies at this hour were apt to be, or she was hiding from him after his less-than-chivalrous sending to her room last night he did not know.

For the moment he was enjoying his solitude. He was silently congratulating himself for having made it through the night without going to her room, and thank God for Gilbert. His valet’s presence stopped him from storming her room this morning.

He was about to tuck in to his eggs and ham, when in strolled Arend. Maitland’s appetite disappeared.

He almost growled his greeting. “How did you know I would be receiving? I did get married yesterday.”

Arend casually moved to the sideboard and filled his plate. “You, Your Grace, are a man of habit. You always break your fast at nine. I did not think a marriage of convenience would stop you.”

An eyebrow rose. “That is none of your business.” At times it irked him that Arend understood him so well. Perhaps it was because they were so alike. Arend hid dark secrets too.

Arend stopped halfway to the table and looked round. “I don’t see Her Grace here, so I thought I’d grab this opportunity to discuss how we can loosen Angelo’s tongue.”

“That’s not the point. She could have been here.”

“I’ve never known a young lady to rise before noon, let alone a woman who has just had her wedding night.” He hesitated for a moment, egg dripping off his fork. “Unless there was no wedding night?” he asked.

“Bugger off.”

Arend merely chuckled. “She’ll be good for you.”

“I have no idea what you mean.” Before Arend could reply, he added, “And I have no intention of talking about my wife or my marriage with you. So best you tell me what it is you’re after before Marisa joins me.”

Arend merely gave him one of his smiles that could mean anything from “I agree with you” to “You haven’t fooled me.”

Maitland’s temper slipped. “Instead of prying into my private life, why don’t you tell me what plan you have devised? I get the feeling you know a lot more about this man, Angelo, than you are divulging.”

The smile slipped from Arend’s face and he continued to eat. They ate in silence until Arend sat back and rubbed his stomach. He picked up a serviette and wiped his mouth. Only once he had settled back in his chair with a cup of tea did Arend address his plan.

“Angelo is a man who values money above all else. Grayson offered him a fortune, which he turned down. For a man who loves money, for Angelo to indicate to Grayson that he wanted something other than money is very worrisome. Angelo is playing with us, and I mean to find out why.”

Maitland leaned closer to Arend. “Since Angelo owns a brothel, I’m assuming it has a gaming room.” Arend’s sly smile told him all he needed to know. “You want me to break the house.”

Arend nodded. “Money doesn’t seem to be whetting Angelo’s appetite. I intend to make him need money like he needs the air to breathe.”

“It’s likely he’ll evict me long before I can empty his coffers. He surely knows I’m a Libertine Scholar and friend of Grayson’s.”

“I have a plan that may fool him.” Arend sat back in his chair, fiddling with a teaspoon. “As much as I don’t like it, I figure you will have to do this over several days.”

Maitland’s mouth firmed. “I don’t see that plan working. Why would I go to a club like the Top Hat just to play cards? He’d be on to us in a flash. Most men go for the intimate entertainment or to be with their partners in a manner society has deemed illegal.” Angelo’s brothel was a Molly house.

Arend put down the teaspoon and sat up straight. “Now, before you get angry I ask that you hear me out.”

Arend must know he rarely got angry. Anger showed a certain lack of self-control. When Maitland said nothing, Arend continued. “You said you’d agree to let Marisa help?—”

“I said nothing of helping. I told her I’d keep her informed.”

Arend tapped his teaspoon against the table.

“You said you’d let me finish.” Maitland closed his mouth.

“Rumors swirl about Your Grace. You are an enigma to most of society. You are very discreet with your liaisons, to the point that rumors still swirl about you and Priscilla. So it will not be considered that strange to be seen at the Top Hat.”

“Bloody hell! It won’t seem strange? You want me to act the fop? My father was known to engage in numerous perversions; I’ve taken great pains to ensure there are no such rumors like that about me. Besides, I’ve just got married.”

Arend waved that point away. “A rushed marriage to a friend’s daughter. It could almost look as if it was a cover. As a duke, you’ll be expected to sire children, regardless of your inclinations.”

Maitland nodded. The reasoning was sound, but he didn’t like where this was heading. He valued his reputation, and putting it in jeopardy was not to be borne.

“If a dandy accompanied you, it may seem, now that you are safely married, you’re freer to indulge your other tastes.”

Maitland looked at Arend in horror. “This is my reputation.”

“It’s our lives, or the life of Marisa, Helen, the other wives.”

“Christ, I need a drink.” He rose and poured himself a brandy.

Sitting back down, he eyeballed Arend. “I might be prepared to use my money to break the house, but over the days I play at the club I will be expected to indulge these tastes you wish me to embrace, and I am certainly not up for frolicking with my own kind.”

Arend sighed. “Just listen. This is the part that may annoy you.” He looked at Maitland before looking away.

“I suggest we dress Marisa up as a young man and she can accompany you. Her build is similar to a young man’s.

That way when you go upstairs for ‘fun’ you’ll not garner suspicion or have to do anything that repulses you. ”

Maitland sat there, stunned. “Did you just suggest I take my wife to a sodomites’ den, perhaps putting her in danger?”

“I’m happy to bow to any other suggestions. If you’d prefer to take me, and go upstairs with me, then by all means.”

Maitland considered this a far better solution. “Well, that sounds far more sensible.”

Arend leaned forward. “Do you want to suck my cock or shall I suck yours?”

“What the hell?” Maitland spluttered.

“They have spy holes. Someone will be watching to begin with, to ensure you are indeed ‘one of them.’ I thought we may well get away with it if you had your wife on her knees. Just keep her clothes on, your clothes can come off.”

Maitland’s body rollicked with revulsion.

“You really are a coldhearted bastard.” How did he explain to a man like Arend that one did not ask one’s wife to get on her knees and .

. . God damn, his body tightened at the thought.

He must be sick like his father to get aroused by the idea of his wife using her mouth on him while others watched.

Arend simply sat, taking sips of his coffee as if they were discussing the weather.

Unable to hold on to his temper he slammed the cup down.

“Maitland, do you think I’d be here suggesting this if I had thought of another way?

” He ran a hand through his hair. “We are running out of time. Either Angelo is in our enemy’s employ or he is trying to gather more information on her, so he can play us off against each other. ”

“Or, in fact, he knows nothing.”

“True, but he probably knows something now. I have been having his men followed. He has started investigating the name we gave him. Either way, I want the truth, and only hitting him where it hurts will we get the truth from him.”

Maitland sat watching his friend for several moments. Arend’s dislike of Angelo seemed personal. “Have you encountered Angelo before?”

Maitland watched myriad emotions cross Arend’s face. Hatred, shame, anger, and despair. “I know him, and he knows me. We have a past. A past I’m not going to talk about.”

“Will this past relationship endanger this charade? I don’t want Marisa getting hurt.

” Maitland refilled his tea. “By the way, I’ll leave it to you to tell Sebastian of this plan—all of the details.

He’s likely to call you out.” He took a sip of brandy and stretched his legs under the table.

“A brother always loves to hear that his sister is to be taken to a Molly club to pretend to be one, and that she will be watched performing a sex act on her husband.”

“It’s not as if she’s not seen it being done . . .”

Arend’s mouth snapped shut as he suddenly remembered who he was talking to, Marisa’s husband.

Maitland’s body tensed. “So it was you she saw.” His voice sounded like a growl to him. He hated that Marisa had seen Arend like that. The only man she should think about in his bed is him. He surprised himself at how much the idea of Marisa’s getting turned on by looking at Arend annoyed him.

“She told you?”

Maitland looked him in the eye. “Marisa is my wife.”

Arend had the grace to look sheepish. “It was not my fault. I had no idea that she was there.”

“Then we will talk of it no more.”

The two men eyed each other like gladiators before Arend nodded and looked away.

Only then did Maitland’s fists unclench. He didn’t like the emotions roiling in his gut. He could quite easily reach across and beat his friend to a messy pulp.

Arend rose from his chair. “So are we in agreement?”

“Let me consider your plan and discuss it with Marisa. Are you going to tell Sebastian?”

“I’d thought we’d leave that until after we have the information we require. There is no point upsetting him, or Beatrice, in her delicate condition.”

Maitland rose too. He had several things that needed his attention in his study, one of those being to let Priscilla know of his wedding. He should have thought of it sooner. He didn’t want her, or his sisters, to hear of it from someone else.

“I shall send you a missive once I have made my decision.”