Page 8 of Chloe and the Devil (Regency Spinsters Alliance #2)

CHAPTER EIGHT

“Lady Chloe Lord is here asking to speak with you, Your Grace,” Lucien’s butler announced at eleven o’clock the following morning.

Lucien glanced across the solid oak desk in his study to where his secretary sat. He and Tyler had spent the past few hours dealing with the letters that had been delivered earlier today.

Tyler gave every impression of being completely unaware of the butler’s presence or what he had just related to Lucien as he appeared to still be engrossed in those missives.

Good man!

Lucien turned to look at his butler as he stood in the open doorway. “Show her into the library please, Fortune,” he requested.

The butler turned away and then hesitated. “I do not wish to speak out of turn, Your Grace, but the young lady seems somewhat…distraught. She also refused to be relieved of either her bonnet or her cloak.” He sounded offended by her omission of not allowing him to carry out one of the tasks of his job.

Lucien frowned. “Is she alone?”

“She is, Your Grace,” the butler confirmed as if relieved to have been asked the question.

Fortune had obviously not relished appearing to be “telling tales” as to how Chloe had once again gone against social etiquette in choosing not to be accompanied by her maid.

Lucien’s displeasure with her grew. “Thank you, Fortune,” he dismissed, rising to his booted feet the moment the butler left the room. “I take it you did not hear any of that exchange, Tyler?”

The younger man looked up. “I have always found selective hearing to be an admirable quality in a secretary, Your Grace.”

Lucien made a mental note to increase Tyler’s wages; the man’s discretion deserved to be rewarded. “Thank you, on my own behalf as well as the young lady’s.”

A young lady who, unfortunately, was again behaving in a manner which could result in a scandal as she once more cavorted around Town unescorted. This time in broad daylight.

But as Fortune had described Chloe’s demeanor as being distraught, Lucien could not quite bring himself to be angry with her.

He did, however, intend to warn her that her behavior was once again bordering on scandalous. It seemed to be a trait, from what Gabriel had confided to him about Lily, which was all too prevalent in the young ladies belonging to the Spinsters Alliance.

Unfortunately, Fortune’s description proved to be correct.

Lucien came to a halt in the library doorway after seeing how white-faced and hollow-cheeked Chloe looked beneath the brim of her bonnet as she gazed down into the flames of the lit fire. Her gloved hands were clenched tightly together in front of her.

Telling Lucien that something of far more importance must have occurred than the possible scandal which might ensue if anyone learned that an unescorted Chloe had paid a morning visit to the home of a single gentleman.

“Oh, Lucien!” Her previous resolve broke the moment she sensed his presence and turned to see him entering the room. “Lucien!” she sobbed, her face crumpling and the tears starting to fall as she immediately hurried across the room before throwing herself into his arms.

Lucien was usually rendered uncomfortable and feeling impotent, as he believed was the case with most gentlemen, when faced with a woman’s tears.

But this was Chloe, a young woman whom he knew rarely cried, but always had good reason for doing so on the few occasions she did.

Lucien’s disapproval of her previous behavior faded as he placed one of his arms about her shoulders and the other beneath her knees before carrying her to one of the two wing-backed armchairs situated on either side of the lit fire. He continued to hold her in his arms as he sat down, Chloe now sitting sideways across his thighs. She buried her face against his throat as she continued to cry.

Lucien decided, as Chloe would most likely have been living under great strain the past few days, that these tears were probably long overdue.

As such, he allowed her to continue to cry for several more minutes. He did reach up and untie the ribbon bow beneath her chin before removing her bonnet completely. It had been in danger of being crushed, in any case, with how deeply Chloe had buried her face against his neck.

Eventually, her sobs began to slow and lessen in volume, but Lucien continued to hold her and, hopefully, give her some comfort by doing so.

Which was how he was able to immediately feel the way in which Chloe stiffened in his arms when she must have realized exactly where she was sitting.

* * *

Chloe stilled with her cheek pressed against the hard chest of the man who held her tightly in his arms.

Strong and muscular arms that were now so familiar to her.

Along with the strength of the hard thighs beneath her bottom.

Just as she knew who that seductive male musk, which she drew into her lungs every time she breathed, also belonged to.

Lucien!

Recent events all came back to her in a rush.

Her panic earlier today when she received a note from the person, it was very quickly revealed, who had stolen her journal. The person who had now shown themselves to be her blackmailer.

Her indecision as to what she should do was quickly followed by the realization there was only one thing she could do.

She must go to Lucien as soon as possible.

Once in his company, she would first apologize for her previous brattish behavior before then pleading, on her knees if he asked it of her, for his assistance in ensuring her Papa and Lily’s wedding wasn’t ruined by a scandal of her creation.

Chloe released herself from Lucien’s arms before standing. She instantly missed being surrounded by his comforting strength, along with the solace to be found in being held against the warmth of his broad and muscular chest. But she needed distance from his seductive closeness to be able to gather her thoughts.

She kept her gaze lowered. “Before I state my reason for being here, I believe I owe you an apology for the things I said to you the last time we met.”

She looked up inquiringly when, long seconds later, Lucien had made no reply.

“I am waiting for the offered apology,” he explained.

“Ah.” Her cheeks warmed. “I apologize for the brattish things I said to you?—”

“Will you please look at me when you are speaking to me?” he encouraged gently.

Chloe inwardly willed her temper not to rise, as it so often did when dealing with this arrogant man. She was in need of Lucien’s assistance, not his antagonism. Besides, she had been inwardly very much on edge these past two days, and she knew that was mainly because she was so achingly aware of the estrangement which now existed between herself and Lucien.

Despite the fact Lucien was her father’s best friend, Chloe had not always seen a lot of him as she was growing up. Especially so during the years of fighting against Napoleon, when Lucien had often been away from England carrying out work on behalf of the Crown.

But none of those separations had been accompanied by the knowledge that she and Lucien were at odds with each other.

It was, she had quickly discovered, an uncomfortable feeling. One that did not sit well with her at all.

Indeed, she was relieved to have a valid reason for calling upon him today. Even if that reason was less than pleasant.

She looked up. “I apologize for my unacceptable behavior when we last spoke. You did not deserve to be treated with such churlishness.” Especially when most of that brattish attitude had been brought about by the knowledge of her own reaction and physical response to being spanked by this man.

He gave an inclination of his head. “Thank you.”

“I received this today.” She reached into the pocket of her cloak to pull out the now crumpled piece of paper that had been delivered to her at St. Albans House earlier this morning. She handed it to Lucien without speaking.

He kept the same silence as he smoothed out the creases before quickly reading the contents.

Chloe did not need to see the letter again. She already knew those few words, which were written in unidentifiable block capitals, by heart.

￡10,000 FOR MY SILENCE

TO BE DELIVERED TO ST. JAMES’S PARK AT MIDNIGHT TONIGHT.

“Why is it that everyone chooses to meet at midnight?” Lucien grumbled.

“Because it sounds clandestine and mysterious,” Chloe answered from her own experience of having asked Lucien to meet her at that time two evenings ago.

He sighed. “There is nothing clandestine or mysterious about the sender of this. It is a letter of extortion, nothing more, nothing less.”

Chloe completely agreed with that summation. But it did nothing to change the fact that the blackmailer was asking her to hand over ￡10,000 to him at midnight. Not only did she not have such a vast sum of money at her disposal, but she very much doubted Lucien would allow her, now that he had seen the letter, to go to the park alone at midnight.

“The paper is nondescript and could be bought from any stationer,” he observed. “The message has deliberately been written in block capitals. Nothing, in fact, to indicate who could have written or sent it.” He looked up at her.

Chloe had already made those same observations for herself, but she deliberately held her tongue, not wishing to antagonize Lucien a second time. Nor was she quite able to meet his impatient gaze.

“How did you receive this?” Lucien barked as he continued to hold the letter.

“As it was addressed to me, it was delivered by my maid with my breakfast tray.” Chloe numbly recalled being unable to eat a bite of the delicious food after opening and reading the letter. “As soon as I was dressed and came downstairs, I asked the butler who had delivered the letter. He told me that one of the housemaids had found it sitting on the doorstep when she went outside first thing this morning to polish the doorknocker and step.”

Lucien’s mouth thinned as he rose abruptly. “I have already cleared your family butler and the footmen and the head groom, along with his underlings, of any blame in this matter, but?—”

“You have?” She sniffled. “Despite my having instructed you not to do so?”

His mouth twisted. “I chose to use my own judgment and discretion on the subject.”

“Of course you did,” she acknowledged dully.

“And I would do so again,” he warned her. “Cramer might not be guilty of theft and blackmail, but in this, he is definitely guilty of neglect by delivering such a missive to you before the method of its delivery had been ascertained.”

Chloe shot Lucien an irritated glance. “The letter was hardly big enough to contain anything harmful.”

He looked taken aback. “I was not implying that it did. But there are subtle methods of killing someone, if one were so inclined, through the administration of a poison that could be absorbed into the body merely from touching a piece of paper or other object which has been contaminated with it.”

Her brows rose. “You sound as if you speak from experience.”

His nostrils flared. “We are not discussing me. If you receive another unidentified letter or parcel in the future, you will not open it until either your father or I have first had opportunity to examine it.”

“I will bear your advice in mind,” she said impatiently.

“It was not advice.” Lucien’s eyes glittered icily as he pointed out the obvious. “And you will do more than bear it in mind. You will do as I have stated?—”

“Or risk having my bottom spanked again?” she derided.

His expression softened slightly. “It could not be considered a punishment when I know how much you enjoyed it the last time,” he murmured.

Chloe gasped, her cheeks heating at this blatant reminder of how her body had betrayed her that night. “A gentleman would not have spoken of that indiscretion!”

“Where you are concerned, it must be obvious—and I freely admit to it being the case—that I no longer speak or act as a gentleman should,” he acknowledged heavily.

“You—” She broke off her heated denial. “Where I am concerned?” she echoed softly.

“Yes,” he bit out between straight white teeth.

“Me specifically?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” she prompted curiously.

He released a heavy sigh. “Because since I kissed you at Christmastime, dear Chloe, you have become a weakness I am finding more and more difficult to resist.”

She stared at him incredulously. “I am?”

* * *

Lucien knew he should not have admitted to Chloe the effect she had on him.

But his emotions were so raw still regarding the estrangement which had existed between them this past two days and now being able to see and be with her again, that he currently felt incapable of even attempting to hide those feelings from her.

The two of them had never been at odds like this before, and Lucien admitted to disliking the experience intensely.

He had even avoided calling at St. Albans House, even though he had longed for just a glimpse of Chloe’s golden hair and those mischievous blue eyes. Or to possibly inhale a breath of that elusive citrus perfume she always wore. To hear her soft and beautiful voice, even if she were to berate him for one wrongdoing or another, would have been welcome.

There was now also this letter, sent by the blackmailer, demanding ten thousand pounds for their silence, which had also ruffled Lucien’s usual calm equilibrium. Because, no matter how anyone viewed the sum, it was an exorbitant amount of money to demand for a person’s silence over a simple story and the identity of the author.

Which begged the question, was that all the blackmailer was offering to keep silent about?

His eyes narrowed. “I have had opportunity to read all of Charles King’s works since we last spoke.”

“You have?” Surprised brows rose to her hairline.

Lucien gave a half smile. “I thought it best if I became acquainted with the stories that have so many members of the ton in such a state of excitement and anticipation as they wait for the next installment. That being the case, I called upon the publisher of the newspaper the morning after we last spoke and requested copies of the back issues in which those stories were printed.”

“And?” Chloe prompted when he added nothing more.

He chose his words carefully. “I can appreciate that the stories are well-written even if, as I have stated before, they are not to my personal taste.”

“Why are they not to your taste?” she repeated with a glare.

Lucien held back the need to smile in response to her obvious indignation, knowing from Chloe’s expression that his levity would not be appreciated. He did not, however, like the look of uncertainty taking its place.

“What is wrong with them?” she now prompted cautiously.

“Nothing is wrong with them,” he dismissed, annoyed with himself for giving her reason to doubt herself, even for a moment. “As I said, they are well-written and obviously thoroughly researched. Except where the soldiers amongst us will know that a respectable young lady such as your character, Miss Clara Brown, would not have been allowed to accompany your hero into some of the war-besieged countries you describe.”

“That is because they are works of fiction, not fact.”

“Even fiction should have its content based on fact where possible,” he reasoned.

“You—”

“Chloe, we are in danger of seriously veering away from the real subject of this conversation. Which, now that I have seen the amount the blackmailer is demanding for his silence, would seem to be the crux of this whole matter.”

“I do not have, nor can I acquire, such a large sum of money before midnight tonight!” Chloe sobbed.

“I can,” Lucien dismissed. “But not until I have learned what is so special about this particular journal that it has led to this person believing he can demand, and expect to be paid, such an extravagant sum in order not to reveal the journal’s contents.”

Her cheeks paled. “Is it not enough that the scandal of my being revealed as Charles King would cause serious upset to my father and Lily’s wedding?”

Lucien studied her for several long seconds before slowly replying. “No, I do not believe it is.” He glanced at the missive in his hand again. “The blackmailer does not even say he will return the journal to you once you have paid, only that, for now, at least, he will remain silent as to its contents.”

The guilty expression Lucien could now discern on Chloe’s face did not reassure him in the slightest.

“Chloe—and do not attempt to berate me in regard to the manner in which I choose to address you, because to me, you have always been and will always be Chloe—what exactly is written in this particular journal for this person to feel so confident their demand will be met?”