Page 15 of Seduced by a Scoundrel (Tales from the Brotherhood #1)

Fifteen

F or the second time in as many months, Derrek found himself jostling through the night in a clattering, crowded mail coach, only this time he and Jeremy were headed toward London instead of away from it.

He was not pleased. It did not matter how many times he assured himself that returning to London was the proper thing to do and that he had reached the limit of ways he could both protect his dove and work to ensure that the king and Princess Victoria remained in as good of health as was possible, given the circumstances, he was unhappy with giving up his domestic, pastoral life.

Worse still, because the mail coach carried three other men, all of them rougher than Jeremy and not particularly inclined toward conversation, Derrek could not even display the affection that all but consumed him where Jeremy was concerned.

Damn Lord Albert for interrupting what should have been a wonderful morning. As delightful as what he and Jeremy had shared the night before had been, Derrek had very much been looking forward to taking his time with his dove and treating him to every sort of pleasure imaginable. He’d dreamed about burying himself deep within Jeremy and having that particular communion bring both of them to outstanding climax. It was something he should have pursued long before in their country exile. It was not within his character at all to wait so long and enjoy so many other forms of affection before the ultimate one. And now God only knew when he would have another chance.

No, not just God. If Derrek had anything to do about it, he would have Jeremy back in his arms that very night, once they were safe and Jeremy was tucked away so that neither Lord Albert nor Conroy nor anyone or anything in all the world could hurt him. And Derrek was absolutely determined to keep Jeremy safe. Even if he had to wrap him in cotton wool and tuck him on a high shelf for his own good. He could not lose the love of his life twice.

They arrived in London just as dawn was beginning to break. Somehow, Jeremy had managed to sleep through the last few hours of the journey. He was awakened by the jostling of the carriage as it came to a halt and their fellow passengers pushed and scrambled to exit the conveyance as swiftly as possible.

“Where are we?” Jeremy asked in groggy tones, lifting his head from where it had flopped onto Derrek’s shoulder. Seeing as one of the other passengers had fallen asleep on his companion, Derrek had not bothered worrying what the others would think of their proximity in sleep.

“We’ve reached London,” Derrek said quietly, biting his tongue on the endearments he sorely wished he could call his dove. That was not to be as long as they were surrounded by the teeming mass of humanity that flooded London’s streets.

“Oh,” Jeremy said, sitting fully straight and stretching as best he could in the emptying carriage.

He said nothing more as he and Derrek climbed out of the carriage and into the yard of the coaching inn where it had come to rest. Two of their companions from the drive went straight into the dozy old inn, but Derrek had other plans for himself and Jeremy.

“I shall be glad to get back to my shop to see how the lads have managed with repairs and fulfilling orders,” Jeremy said as they collected their baggage and headed out of the inn’s yard, more awake by the moment. “I did have a few letters from them in our time away and I believe they are managing adequately, but I am eager to take up my place at the head of my own ship once more.”

Derrek grunted and searched up and down the street outside the inn for a carriage they could hire. Jeremy had received a scant few letters in the time they had been gone. They’d been sent along with correspondence from Moreland, Wilmore, and others from The Brotherhood who had kept Derrek informed of the situation with the king and the princess. He’d not gone into any detail with Jeremy about how the young man, Artie, from his shop believed his master was residing with Lord Wilmore at Swanmore Glen, or about his own correspondence, but Jeremy had been too satisfied with his country life and happy to hear from London to ask.

“I do hope that I am able to bring my business back up to where it was before my departure,” Jeremy went on with a yawn as Derrek spotted a hack for hire and waved at it. “One can only hope that one’s reputation has been built solidly enough that returning to London might be a cause for celebration, not to mention a flood of new orders.”

“Most likely,” Derrek said, paying only cursory attention.

The last thing he wanted was for Jeremy to announce his return to London. Not when the likelihood of Lord Albert informing Conroy as to Jeremy’s whereabouts was so strong. Just because the two of them had avoided danger in the gamekeeper’s cottage at Maidstone Close for nearly two months did not mean the danger was gone.

The hack pulled up beside them, and Derrek held the door to help Jeremy inside. Once his dove was seated and seeing to their baggage, Derrek stepped around to the driver, giving him directions to The Chameleon Club.

“London does not seem to have changed much,” Jeremy said with an adorably benign smile, looking out the hack’s dirty window as they drove through the bustling morning streets.

Shopkeepers had just begun to set out their wares, messenger boys dashed through the crowds, and factory workers made their way from their homes to their work. One young woman stepped in front of the hack too quickly, was nearly run over, and shouted vibrant curses at the driver while shaking her fist.

Jeremy chuckled. “It is just as colorful as ever it was.”

Despite Derrek’s growing seriousness and the way his nerves had been pulled tightly again with the return of his policeman’s instincts, he smiled. One of the things he adored most about Jeremy was his sunny view of life, even in the grubbiest parts of London. He was a great deal like Joseph in that way, always willing to see the best in people.

A wave of old grief washed over Derrek as he studied his new love rather than watching the streets as they passed. Part of him felt as though he’d failed Joseph in giving his heart away again. He wondered if it made him false to his first love to find a new love.

Joseph would shake his head and tell him he was being silly. Love was love, and the more of it that filled the earth, the happier all its inhabitants would be.

“We’re heading toward Hyde Park,” Jeremy commented with a frown after they’d been weaving through the increasingly busy streets for nearly fifteen minutes. He pulled his gaze away from the window and looked at Derrek. “We should be going in the opposite direction, toward Jermyn Street.”

A twist of conscience hit Derrek. He sat straighter, cleared his throat, and said, “We’re not going to your shop. I’m taking you to The Chameleon Club.”

Jeremy blinked, mostly in confusion, but with a hint of suspicion as well. “Why would we be going to a gentleman’s club so early in the morning when I have been apart from my business for two months now?”

Derrek tried not to wince. This was precisely the reason he had not discussed the matter with Jeremy before setting out.

“Until I can determine the situation here in London and the intensity with which Conroy might still be after you, I do not think it safe for you to return to Jermyn Street.”

“ You do not think it safe?” Jeremy asked, his voice taking on a sharper tone.

“The Chameleon Club is protected by its members and the secrecy surrounding it,” Derrek explained, sounding gruffer than he felt in the hope that Jeremy would back down. “Despite the correspondence I received while we were away and the information about Conroy’s intent that I was able to glean through my investigations during that time, I am not convinced your life is not still in danger.”

“Your investigations?” Jeremy looked even more affronted. “What investigations?”

“While we were in Kent,” Derrek said. “I did as much as I could to track Conroy’s movements from a distance and to discover what connections Lord Albert, and possibly Lord Linton, might have to the Princess Victoria.”

“When did you undertake these investigations?” Jeremy asked, his voice pitching higher.

Derrek hesitated before answering. The last thing he expected was offense from his dove. “What did you think I was doing during the days while you were working with Miss Jones?” he asked carefully.

Jeremy gaped at him. “I believed you to be at the cottage, tending the garden and making certain our home was happy and secure.”

The idea tickled Derrek’s fancy even as it made him question Jeremy’s naivety. If either of the two of them would be cast as the one who stayed home to tend the hearth, he would not have expected it to be him.

“We did not venture deep into Kent to play house, Jeremy,” he said sternly instead. “We went there because your life was threatened. I am a policeman. It is my duty not only to protect you but to protect and preserve the interests of the king.”

“The king?” Jeremy asked incredulously.

He then blinked and sat back in his seat, crossing his arms. Derrek was not entirely certain what sort of irritated emotion had come over his love, but he suspected it had something to do with being left out of what had otherwise been a harmonious time of togetherness for the two of them. Perhaps he now questioned how genuine their affection for each other had been while living in the cottage.

Derrek questioned none of it. He loved Jeremy. He was more certain of that now than ever. Which was why he fully intended to do whatever was necessary to keep his beloved out of harm’s way, whether Jeremy agreed with it or not.

They reached The Chameleon Club a short time later, and though it was still obvious that Jeremy was not pleased with any of Derrek’s plans, he gathered up his bags and ventured into the discreet building without putting up a fuss.

The club was mildly busy with those members who were either in residence or who had come to break their fast with the exquisite cooking of the club’s kitchen staff. Derrek could not have given a tinker’s dam about how he looked or smelled after their speedy retreat from Maidstone Close and their night in the mail coach, but Jeremy hunched in on himself as though he was ashamed to be seen in his current state.

Fortunately, there were ways they could discreetly find what they needed without the entire Brotherhood seeing them.

“Talboys, Wilkes, you’ve returned,” Lord Thurleigh, one of the club’s founders and managers greeted them as he came down the stairs at the end of the wide, main hallway. “Has the matter of your flight been resolved?”

“Not unless we’ve already passed Princess Victoria’s birthday or Sir John Conroy and the Duchess of Kent have already been disposed of,” Derrek said, stepping ahead of Jeremy to shake hands in greeting with Cecil.

“Alas, Conroy is still prominent at Kensington Palace, or so I hear,” Cecil said with a sigh. “But the princess’s birthday is next week, so there is hope.”

Derrek glanced over his shoulder to Jeremy as if to say they were almost out of the woods, but not quite.

Jeremy seemed to have shrunk in on himself, in all likelihood both because of his appearance and because Cecil was so far above him in class.

Derrek turned back to Cecil and addressed him as the friend he was. “We’re in need of a room so that we might clean up, and perhaps sleep for a bit.”

Cecil glanced between the two of them, his brow lifting in question. “Will that be one room or two?” he asked carefully.

Derrek turned back to Jeremy, no idea how to answer. If it were solely up to him, he would request one room. His earlier intentions to continue what had been interrupted the morning before were still there. But Jeremy was clearly put out with him, and he had no idea where that left him.

Jeremy didn’t help with the question either. He glanced at Derrek, gaze intent, as if he were as interested in the question as Cecil was.

Finally, Derrek sighed, rubbed a hand over his face, and said, “Do you have any of the larger suites available? And I hate to trouble you, but it would be easier if you sent up two baths.”

Cecil’s mouth twitched into a lopsided smile and he said, “I will see to it at once.”

There was a bit of faffing as some of the club’s servants were called and as Cecil sought out the key to the suite Derrek had requested. Jeremy remained silent through it all, his weariness from their sudden journey becoming more apparent by the moment. Derrek was grateful when they were finally taken up to the room on the second floor, and when tubs were brought up a short time later and filled with warm water.

It was not until he and Jeremy had stripped and seated themselves facing each other in the two tubs, which had been placed side by side near the fire, after the servants had taken most of their clothing to launder and left them with robes and clean, borrowed clothing instead, that their earlier conversation resumed.

“I feel as though you are treating me like an object you’ve placed on the shelf and intend to keep there,” Jeremy said, scrubbing soap over his body but not meeting Derrek’s eyes. His assessment was uncannily like the thoughts Derrek had had earlier. “But I cannot fathom whether that means you believe the two of us are together or if, after all this time, you think of me as nothing more than your charge, to be protected and sheltered.”

Derrek sighed, knowing the matter would be raised between them at some point. He told himself he should be grateful that everything was being brought to the fore immediately.

“I do not think of you as an object,” he said, looking at Jeremy and waiting for his dove to look back at him. “I would very much like for us to be together.”

Jeremy snapped his eyes up from the water to meet Derrek’s. “We are together,” he said, though by his tone, it sounded more like a question.

“I would like us to be,” Derrek repeated. “Much of that depends on your thoughts on the matter.”

Derrek watched the tension of Jeremy’s reaction to those words and noted the moment when whatever tether Jeremy had kept his temper on snapped.

“If we are together, then you should have informed me of your investigation when we were in the country,” he said in a burst. “If we are together, then you should trust me and include me in matters that pertain to my own safety, not treat me like a child who cannot comprehend the world they are a part of.”

“I never treated you as a?—”

“If we are together, then you should have kept me more informed of your discoveries. Are there other things you have not told me?” Jeremy demanded.

Derrek clenched his jaw, holding his breath for a moment as he debated how much Jeremy needed to know and whether the truth would upset him too much. Of course, he could not hide anything from his lover now.

He huffed out his breath and said, “I did not merely walk around the manor house at Maidstone Close a few weeks back as I told you. I went inside and spoke to the servants to inquire about Lord Linton, Lord Albert, and any connection they might have to Conroy.”

“You went inside the house and spoke to its servants and you did not tell me?” Jeremy asked, voice raised.

“You were already upset with me for returning late to the cottage.”

“You could have said something once I was calm,” Jeremy chastised him.

“I did not want to disturb your peace. You were happy working with Miss Jones,” Derrek defended himself, growing impatient with Jeremy’s peevish mood. It was likely that the man was merely tired and overwrought from their journey and unable to proceed rationally, but that did not help soothe his hurt feelings at being questioned with such accusation. “The two of us visiting the house together would only have raised suspicion with the servants there.”

“You could have told me about your interviews with the servants sooner,” Jeremy said, slumping back in his tub and sloshing a bit of water over the edge.

“To what end?” Derrek asked. “I discovered nothing of any great importance, though there was evidence that someone had gone through the desk drawers in Linton’s study. I could not know with any certainty who that might have been. You did not need to know about the investigation.”

“I am your—” Jeremy stopped, pressing his lips together and glaring at Derrek for a moment, as if he did not know what word to affix to the relationship between the two of them. “We are meant to tell each other everything, are we not?”

Derrek’s shoulders dropped. Joseph had said something to that effect once in their time together. Lovers of the sort they’d been, of the sort he wanted to be with Jeremy, did not keep secrets from each other. But there was a vast world of difference between keeping secrets and failing to mention the dull minutia of their professions.

“Did you tell me about every petticoat you stitched or every farmwife who requested a May Day gown from you and Miss Jones?” he fired back in return, though he knew full well it was not the wisest tactic for him to employ.

“The goings on of Miss Jones’s shop were not matters of life and death for you,” Jeremy argued. “Anything you might have discovered in the house of the man who was and likely still is trying to kill me very much is.”

Derrek let out a heavy breath. It could be argued that Jeremy was correct in his assumptions. Anything regarding Conroy and Lord Albert that he discovered could very well pertain directly to him. But a policeman could not and should not be expected to share every little thing he discovered in the course of an investigation, even if it pertained directly to someone who was a part of the investigation.

There was only one thing he could say. “I am sorry that I did not share my activities with you sooner,” he said.

Jeremy was silent for as long as Derrek had been before making a stilted reply of, “I am not entirely certain that it is in either of our best interest for you to continue to be the chief investigator of the plot against me.”

Derrek’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. That was not even close to anything he might have expected his dove to say.

Jeremy let go of some of his tension and fixed Derrek with a frank look. “I did not realize until now how deeply this investigation could divide us. I understand that you have a duty to our king and to law and justice, but I fear that it will come between us and keep us divided when I would much rather the two of us grow closer together.”

For a moment, Derrek did not know what to say. Every part of his mind rebelled at the thought of being taken off of what might very well be the most important case of his life. But Jeremy had a terribly good point. The danger of duty coming between them was greater than he’d thought it was. Idling away in the country had hidden that fact, but now that they were back in London, it could very well push them apart.

“As soon as we have rested and recovered, we will go to Scotland Yard and discuss the case with one of my superiors,” he said. “I’ve kept things mostly to myself on this matter because of questions that might be raised about our connection, but perhaps that is not enough.”

Perhaps there was no way to protect himself in this matter anymore. He’d already been thinking of leaving the Met. He had not communicated with his superiors as much as he should have while he’d been away either. For all he knew, he was not actually a member of the Met any longer because he’d left London for so long. The only way to find out was to go to Scotland Yard to see for himself.

“I believe that would be a wise idea,” Jeremy said, lowering his eyes as if he’d won the argument but was no longer certain of his victory. “And perhaps after, we can go to my shop,” he added. “Though I believe it would be wise to sleep for the rest of the morning.”

Jeremy’s tension seemed to melt away with the suggestion of sleep, and so did Derrek’s. He smiled and stood, dripping water everywhere.

“Come on, dove,” he said holding out his hand to help Jeremy stand. “Let’s dry off and wrap ourselves in that cozy bed over there. Matters will seem clearer after a rest.”

Jeremy smiled and took his hand. For a moment, Derrek worried what would happen if he ever let go.