In Bed with the Devil

“Yes. I need you to teach her all she needs to know to walk confidently among us. Once you’ve accomplished that task, I’ll dispense with the person of your choosing.”

“I no longer have confidence in your ability to carry out my request, my lord. You said you’d not killed.”

“No, I said I’d not killed my uncle.”

She studied him and the familiar features that had haunted her dreams for so long. “Dear Lord! You don’t believe you’re truly the Earl of Claybourne.”

“What I believe or do not believe is of no consequence. The old gent believed and the Crown believed.” He held out his hands. “And so here I am.”

“You have an odd sort of honesty about you.”

“So have we a bargain?”

“You said that you’d see to your end once I’d seen to mine. But my task could take months. How do I know when I’m finished, that you’ll carry out yours?”

“You have my word on it.”

“As a gentleman?”

“As a scoundrel. Have you not heard that there is honor among thieves?”

Oh, dear Lord, she feared she was playing a very dangerous game here.

“Still, you are asking a good deal more of me than I’m asking of—”

With his gloved hand, he gripped her chin and leaned near. She could see the muscles in his jaw tightening. “You are asking me to surrender the last of my soul. Once it’s done, it can’t be undone. All I’m asking of you is that you teach someone how to properly host an afternoon tea.”

Swallowing hard, she nodded, speaking through clenched teeth. “You’re quite right.

Now if you’ll be so kind as to unhand me.”

He seemed surprised to discover that he was holding her. He lowered his hand. “My apologies. I—”

“Not to worry. I don’t believe you bruised me.”

He turned away, and if she didn’t know he was a fraud, she might have thought he was struggling with his conscience. “Quite honestly, my lord, I’m not certain that what I require of you can wait months to be carried out.”

He glanced over his shoulder at her, and the light of her lantern caught the silver of his eyes, giving them an unholy gleam. “Frannie is quite bright. I do not question her ability to learn, rather your ability to teach. Once I see that you’re able to fulfill your part of the bargain, I shall see to mine.”

“I will not tell you the name until you are ready for the undertaking.”

“I’m agreeable to those terms.”

“And I shall never tell you why.”

“It seems I should at least know what he’s done to deserve to die.”

His last few words caused her stomach to tighten painfully. She knew what she was asking, knew what the consequences would be. If she could think of another way to save Winnie, she’d turn to it. But she knew threats would not sway Avendale. And Winnie was right. The law was of no use to them. So Catherine strengthened her resolve before saying, “It’s a private matter.”

“This particular part of our arrangement does not sit well with me.”

“The man you killed—Geoffrey Langdon—why did you kill him?”

“My reasons are my own.”

“Did he deserve what you did to him?”

“No, he deserved much worse.”

“I believe you.”

“I don’t give a bloody damn if you believe me or not.”

She took a step forward. “I mean, I take you at your word that he deserved it, so why can you not take me at mine that this other gentleman is deserving of death?”

“Because, Lady Catherine, you live in a world where ladies weep because they didn’t receive an invitation to a ball. What you might consider insult, I would merely consider inconvenience.”

“You think because you grew up on the streets that you alone are privy to the dark nature of man? How terribly conceited you are.”

“I have seen the worst of men and I have seen the best. Can you say the same?”

Could she? Could she even begin to fathom what horrors he might have witnessed?

“On this matter, I believe I have seen the worst.”

He nodded very slowly. “Very well then. I’ll take you at your word that he deserves what I shall deliver.”

She thought she should have been relieved. Instead doubts plagued her. She shoved them aside. Now was not the time to get squeamish about her actions. “Then we have a bargain. Shall I have papers drawn up?”

The man who rarely exhibited emotion looked horrified. “Good God, no! There is to be no evidence, nothing written anywhere that will lead me to Newgate. Even the missive I sent earlier should be burned.”

“Then how do we signify that we’re both in agreement?”

“We’ll shake on it.” He removed his glove and extended his right hand toward her.

On her skirt, she wiped her palm—which had suddenly dampened—before pressing it against his. His long fingers closed over hers, and he drew her near, so near that she could see the narrow black outline that circled the silver of his eyes. “You are now in league with the devil, my lady. May you rest easier at night than I.”

Her heart hammered as he released his hold, turned away slightly, and began to tug back on his glove. “We shall need to be discreet. I’ll have my coach waiting in the alley at midnight tomorrow. Meet me there, and I’ll escort you to Frannie.”