Page 9 of Seduced by a Scoundrel (Tales from the Brotherhood #1)

Nine

D espite having been raised in the country, Derrek had grown to much prefer London life. Which was why he was so deeply surprised, after a week in the cottage with Jeremy, to discover just how much he enjoyed their interlude of forest seclusion.

“You’ve made tremendous progress on the garden,” Jeremy commented, peering out the window into a sunny, early-April day as he washed up from their morning repast. “It isn’t a heap of brambles any longer, that much is certain.”

“I have to do something to fill my days while you’re stitching away with your missus,” Derrek replied with a grin as he tended the fireplace. They would be leaving soon, but he wanted to make certain the cottage wouldn’t lose its warmth without anyone to tend it for the middle part of the day.

“Your efforts at gardening have been a great success,” Jeremy said with an answering smile, dipping one of their plates in the washbasin he’d insisted be kept in the kitchen before rubbing the plate with a bit of toweling and setting it aside. “If you’ve no further wish to be a policeman, I am certain someone would hire you as their gardener.”

“Would you?” Derrek asked, pushing himself to stand and brushing his hands across his breeches to remove the dirt.

He was very much aware of the way Jeremy’s gaze lingered on his breeches and on the flush that came to his dove’s face. The last two weeks had been filled with such looks and more. They’d continued to share the cottage’s one bed and Jeremy was as restless a sleeper as ever. Nearly every morning had been some sort of repeat of their first, complete with morning tumescence that Derrek was quick to excuse himself to take care of and Jeremy fought to ignore. How the man was not half out of his mind with denial was a mystery to Derrek.

Because for all their growing comfort with each other, for all the amorous looks and occasional flirtatious banter, Jeremy had yet to let down his walls and invite Derrek into his pleasure garden.

“I do not think I would ever be in a position to hire a gardener,” Jeremy stammered, turning quickly back to finish his tidying. “I foresee that I will forever live in rooms above my tailoring shop, whether it remains in Jermyn Street or moves to some other location, and that I will not have the space nor the time for a garden.”

“But that’s why you hire someone else to do the work,” Derrek said, hiding his grin as best he could as he walked over to the table near the stove. “Have someone else do the ploughing while you enjoy it.”

He stood deliberately close to Jeremy’s back, leaning into him and over him as he reached for something on the highest shelf beside where they stood. He did not care much which item he plucked from the shelf. The entire gesture was an excuse to wedge Jeremy against the table and to come as close as he could to pressing their bodies together so that Jeremy could feel the heat he aroused in him.

His teasing gesture bore fruit as Derrek felt a shiver pass through his dove. Jeremy sucked in a breath, and when Derrek rested a hand slightly on his hip as he took down a jar of boot black, which he had no need for whatsoever, he half expected Jeremy to let the breath out on a sensual moan. If that were to happen, Derrek might not have had any choice but to scoop his dove up and take him back to bed.

Nothing happened, of course, except that Derrek was left holding a jar of boot black with no idea what to do with it. His boots were brown. He cleared his throat as he rocked away from Jeremy, then headed toward the front door.

“Are you ready to head into the village?” he asked, his voice coming out gruff and laced with desire.

“I…I…I…yes, I think so,” Jeremy gusted out, leaning heavily against the table for a moment.

He took another few breaths to gather himself, which made Derrek’s smile widen. It would do them both a world of good to simply go to bed, enjoy each other thoroughly once or twice, and get the whole thing over with so that they could move on. Jeremy was as tight as a coil and equally as ready to spring with pent-up desire, whether he knew it or not, and Derrek had gone so long without the relief of a willing partner that his balls felt like rocks in his breeches, despite his new morning ritual with the trees.

“I should not be dallying at all,” Jeremy said once he’d put the rest of the morning washing up away, fetched his coat, and started out into the forest by Derrek’s side. “Clary has received even more requests for gowns for May Day, not only from the people of our village but from as far away as Maidstone and Aylesford. The two of us will have sore fingers from stitching by the time the festival arrives.”

Derrek’s insides filled with light and warmth that had little to do with the pleasant morning around them. “For a man who is in hiding from those who wish to see him dead, you are surprisingly happy.”

“I am,” Jeremy said, glancing at him with a puzzled but still pleased look. “I cannot account for any of it.”

Derrek chuckled. His dove truly was inexperienced in the ways of affectionate companionship.

“I suppose it is because I enjoy the work Clary and I are doing,” Jeremy went on, taking a deep breath and smiling around at the countryside as they neared the edge of their woods. “I have been astounded to discover a seamstress as talented as Clary so far from London. I asked why she never thought to move to London to ply her trade and she told me that she’d no idea how one started down that path. I have half a mind to hire her myself, though she is a seamstress and mine is a tailor’s shop.”

“Could you not expand your business?” Derrek asked with a shrug. “Has anyone ever offered a shop that serves both male and female customers?”

Jeremy looked horrified at the suggestion, which was all the answer Derrek needed.

“It simply is not done,” Jeremy said gravely. He was quiet and thoughtful for a moment as they walked on before saying, “I suppose it could be accomplished through some sort of clever means, such as purchasing or leasing two buildings that abutted each other in back, where workshop space could be shared, but each with a public face on opposite streets.”

Derrek stopped paying attention at “abutted each other in the back”. He could not keep the mischief out of his expression as images of Jeremy holding onto the corner post of their bed while Derrek abutted him in the back filled his imagination.

“It could be advantageous to share one, large workroom between two businesses,” Jeremy went on, oblivious to the direction Derrek’s thoughts had gone in. “Talented stitchers could work on both ladies’ gowns and men’s jackets.”

The rest of their walk into the village was filled with Jeremy thinking aloud about the possibilities of a business combining ladies’ and men’s tailoring needs. Derrek let the finer details float over his head in favor of listening to the sound of Jeremy’s voice and smiling at his dove’s enthusiasm. The fortnight that the two of them had spent together so far had softened him more than he’d anticipated, but he wasn’t certain he minded.

Joseph would have adored Jeremy. So much so that Derrek found it hard to summon up the guilt he knew he should feel about letting his heart lean toward another man. The two of them would have found endless matters to discuss, and both would have put the needs of those less fortunate than them ahead of their own. On the one hand, it was a pity the two had never met. On the other, the idea of the two together and him having to choose did his head in.

“Well, here you are,” he announced once he’d walked Jeremy straight up to the door of Miss Jones’s shop.

“Here I am,” Jeremy said, turning to him and smiling. “And now you may return to the cottage to carry on with your gardening endeavors.”

Derrek laughed and clapped a hand on Jeremy’s shoulder. It was as close as he could come to parting from his dove with a kiss as was possible. Even that small gesture garnered attention from the grocer’s wife as she swept the stoop of her shop across the way from Miss Jones’s and a farmer who was passing through.

“I will be back to walk you home around sundown,” Derrek said before leaving Jeremy to his employment.

He turned away, glancing over his shoulder to make certain Jeremy made it into the shop without incident, then picked up his pace, heading toward the pub. He had not lied to Jeremy when he said that he spent time in their garden, setting the overgrown mess to rights, but that was not the only thing that had been occupying his days.

“Morning, Talboys,” Martin, the owner of the Three Bells, greeted Derrek as he strode through the front door into the mostly empty pub. “I received that message you were waiting for late last night, when one of the mail coaches from London passed through.”

As Derrek had discovered toward the beginning of their stay, while they were infrequent, mail coaches did pass through their small village three times a week. He’d sent more than a few messages into London by the mail that traveled through Aylesford several times a day, and he would have walked all the way up there or borrowed a horse to make the journey quicker, but his London contacts had instructions to send information to him where he was if at all possible.

“Many thanks, Martin,” he said, maintaining a casual mien, as he traded a coin for the folded rectangle of paper Martin had for him.

“Interested in a beer to start your day?” Martin asked, holding up one of the glasses he’d been cleaning as Derrek had entered the pub.

Derrek laughed. “It depends on the contents of this,” he said, holding up the letter.

He leaned against the counter and opened it while Martin returned to his work. Immediately, he saw that a beer would not be in his future anytime soon.

“ I can confirm that Lord Albert Howard has been spotted in London ,” the missive read. “ Not only that, he has been seen on more than one occasion in the presence of Sir John Conroy .”

Derrek scowled as he read through the rest of the message. It contained a few more bits about where the two men had been seen as well as a short report about King William’s health and Princess Victoria’s activities. The important bit of information was at the beginning, though. Lord Albert was in England.

“Thanks again for this,” Derrek said, refolding the letter and holding it up for a moment before tucking it into his jacket. “No beer for me this morning, I’m afraid.”

“Suit yourself,” Martin said with a smile.

Derrek took his leave, heading straight back through the village to Maidstone Close. Not for the first time, he thanked whatever forces had brought Jeremy and Miss Jones together. He felt far easier with leaving his dove in the care of that formidable woman than he would have leaving him to fend for himself in the cottage.

The walk back to Maidstone Close was quicker without Jeremy but not nearly as sunny. Derrek was able to walk faster, but rather than returning to their secluded cottage, he took the main road that led all the way to the drive leading to the main house at Maidstone Close. It was something of a stab in the dark, but sometimes the quickest way to ascertain the sort of information he needed was to march right up and ask.

“Can I help you?” the confused and surprisingly young butler asked when he answered the door.

Derrek had information from his friend Moreland that most of the staff of Maidstone Close had left when Lord Linton and Howard had left for the Continent two years ago. Ashton himself had seen to the hiring of new servants, many of whom were younger men and women who hoped to have long careers as butlers or housekeepers, but who needed the experience before grander houses would hire them.

Derrek wasn’t above taking advantage of the young butler’s inexperience to get what he needed. “Might I come in, sir?” he asked, putting on as much affability as he could manage.

“Of course,” the young butler said, stepping back and allowing him entrance.

That was, perhaps, the man’s first mistake.

“Can I be of some assistance, sir?” the butler asked once Derrek stood in the front hall, gazing around at the dusty old portraits and stiff furnishings.

“I was hoping to pay a call on the lord of the house,” Derrek said, then added, “Detective Talboys from London.”

The young butler’s eyes widened. “Detective? As in police? Has there been a crime?”

Derrek thought carefully before he spun a wild tale that even the inexperienced butler might see through. “No, not at all,” he said, chuckling for good measure. “I am acquainted with Lord Albert Howard is all. I heard whispers that he had returned to England and since I was in the county, I thought I would pay a call.”

“I am sorry to inform you that Lord Albert is not in residence,” the butler said. Derrek was almost certain he believed what he said and that he was not lying. Which meant that Lord Albert had not returned to his ancestral home before going straight to London.

“That’s a pity,” he said. He pretended to look around awkwardly, like he didn’t belong where he was and felt strangely about it.

“I am sorry that we could not be of any help,” the butler went on, standing straighter and putting on an air as if he were playing the part of a butler the way he thought it should be played. “Would you care for a refreshment before going on your way?” he asked.

Derrek could not have planned it better if he’d asked for tea. “Yes, thank you,” he said.

“Let me show you into the parlor, sir.”

It was beyond perfect. In his haste to show some sort of hospitality and likely break up what was certainly a monotonous life the young butler led Derrek to a mausoleum-like parlor and left him there.

Derrek wasn’t about to stay put where he was. As soon as he heard the butler’s footsteps disappear down the hall, he got up and left to explore.

The manor house of Maidstone Close was as empty and abandoned as a grand house could be. That was further proof that Lord Albert was not in residence, but it also meant he was not likely to find anything that would be of any use in implicating Lord Albert in Conroy’s nefarious plans. That did not stop him from searching, though.

The house had not changed much at all from the encounter he’d had there years ago, when Ashton and Billy had finally resolved their conflict with Lord Linton. The rooms and furnishings were all the same, not that Derrek had noticed them much before, only gloomier somehow. The house was all but silent, suggesting that the smallest number of servants possible to maintain the place were in residence. That worked very much in Derrek’s favor, however.

He searched out Lord Linton’s study, and with only a bit of effort and wandering, he found it. The large room was cold and dusty. It did not appear as though anyone had tidied it in the two years since Linton had fled. That, too, worked in Derrek’s favor. Many of the documents that had been lying out on the top of the desk were still there.

If only they contained information that would be of the slightest use. Much of it was correspondence, but it pertained to things that had been finished or exposed years ago. There were a few ledgers as well, but the records they contained ended around the time Linton had fled.

Derrek was on the verge of declaring the whole thing a failure and leaving the house when something on the far edge of the desk caught his eye. Or rather, the absence of something. There was a clear space at the edge of the desk, just above the top drawer on the right, as if someone had recently brushed their hand over the desk before opening the drawer.

With a curious frown, Derrek shifted and opened the drawer in question. It was empty, but even that told a story. If he was a betting man, he would have said that someone had removed the drawer’s contents recently.

“Sir?” the young butler’s voice echoed down the hallway. “Mr. Talboys?”

Derrek huffed and shut the drawer. It was possible that one of the servants had taken whatever it had contained, but instinct told Derrek that more was at play. He could not continue to wander around the house when the butler was aware of his presence, though.

“Mr. Talboys?”

Dissatisfied with the results of his search, Derrek strode back into the hall. He immediately put on a confused expression as he started back to the front of the house and the parlor where he’d been places.

“There you are, sir,” the young butler said with an unsuspecting smile when the two of them crossed paths near the front hall. “I thought I’d lost you.”

Derrek laughed. “Forgive me,” he said. “I set out in search of some sort of convenience.”

“Understood, sir,” the young butler said. “Did you find what you needed?”

“No, not really,” Derrek said truthfully. Then, in an effort to catch the young man unawares, he asked, “Has Maidstone Close seen any visitors at all of late?”

Unsuspectingly, the young butler replied, “No, sir. And to be honest, we have all been a bit bored. Your arrival today has been a rare treat.”

A twist of guilt struck Derrek. His plan to leave the house and continue his investigation elsewhere was forgotten in favor of giving the poor staff of Maidstone Close something to fill their day with.

“You’re welcome to join me as I take my tea,” he suggested to the young man. “Perhaps you could tell me all about the inner workings of this house when no one is at home and share anything you’ve heard from my friends via correspondence?”

“Gladly, sir,” the young butler said, accompanying Derrek as he strode back toward the parlor. “I do not hear from Lord Linton or Lord Albert often, but they have charged me with keeping them informed about the goings on here in England. They have been especially interested in the progress Princess Victoria has been making in her education and introduction to society.”

Derrek nearly missed a step. It could have been a coincidence, but given everything else, Linton’s and Lord Albert’s interest in news of Princess Victoria could be the connection he needed to prove their involvement with Conroy.

“Tell me all about it, friend,” he said with a smile, gesturing for the young butler to enter the parlor with him. Tea had been set out on one of the low tables, and a maid stood bright-eyed and ready to help. “Tell me everything you know.”

Between the two young people, Derrek was bound to learn something that might help him tighten the noose around both Lord Albert’s and Conroy’s necks.