Alex circle the room examining the various expensive trinkets placed here and there, Daniel mentally blessed Creighton. A pleasantly distracted Alex made life much less stressful.
And their lives, unexpectedly, had taken a stressful turn.
He, Alex, and their half brother Roderick had formed a close-indeed, closed-circle years before. While Roderick was the present Earl of Shrewton’s legitimate son, he and Alex were illegitimate, yet both were of decent birth and thus able to pass in society. London had been their playground for some years, but when Roderick’s position at the Foreign Office had resulted in the chance to visit India, all three of them had jumped at the opportunity-and what an opportunity it had proved to be.
Roderick had requested and been granted a posting to the Governor of Bombay’s staff, a position that had made him privy to the details of many of the trade caravans. Once Alex and Daniel had joined him, they’d quickly set about exploiting the situation.
The outcome had been the Black Cobra cult-a creation of their own making that had satisfied the vicious appetites the three of them shared in ways not even they had dared dream. For the last several years, the Black Cobra cult had delivered to them a steady diet of money, sex, sadistic pleasure, and, above all, power.
All three had grown adept at manipulating and exploiting the cult members-hardly innocents-to shore up, then steadily expand, the cult’s activities. For several years, they’d pursued their hedonistic purposes without any serious hindrance from the authorities, represented by the Honorable East India Company. As the Earl of Shrewton, their dear father, was a member of the board, and as the Governor of India, the Marquess of Hastings, was beholden to the Prince Regent-who in turn was deeply indebted to the earl-there had seemed no reason to fear any threat from that quarter, or at least none they couldn’t easily see off.
That had all changed one day in late August, when a letter written by Roderick as the Black Cobra, signed with the Black Cobra’s distinctive mark but, by unfortunate ill luck, sealed with Roderick’s personal family seal, had fallen into the hands of a cadre of officers Hastings had, months before, dispatched from Calcutta with specific orders to expose the Black Cobra.
Roderick, Daniel, and Alex had laughed off the officers’ efforts until then, but the realization that the letter could, if it reached the right hands in England, bring Roderick down-thus compromising the ability of the Black Cobra cult to prey on the caravans, the primary source of Daniel’s and Alex’s wealth-had sobered them. Even though it was Roderick alone at risk, Alex had agreed that to safeguard the cult’s continuing prosperity, Daniel and Alex should return to England with Roderick, to assist in seizing the letter and dealing appropriately with the officers responsible.
Such threats to the Black Cobra couldn’t be allowed to go unpunished.
Unfortunately, by the time they’d learned of the letter and the threat it posed, the four officers had copied the letter, then separated and fled Bombay. Which of the four was carrying the real letter-the original with Roderick’s incriminating seal, the only letter they needed to regain-was anyone’s guess.
By luck and good management, they’d reached England before any of the officers.
Annoyingly, an attempt two days ago to kill the senior officer, Colonel Derek Delborough, when he’d landed at Southampton had been foiled by some interfering female.
Daniel and Alex had just parted from Roderick after a short conference during which their efforts, past and present, to stop the officers and regain the letter had been discussed and reviewed.
Straightening from the fire, Daniel turned as Alex drew near. “Now that Delborough’s here, in London, and holed up at Grillon’s, how do you see our campaign progressing? Can we rely on Larkins to get the job done?”
Larkins was Roderick’s man-an Englishman with a sadistic streak. He had managed to infiltrate a thief into the colonel’s household with the express purpose of stealing the letter-copy or original-that the good colonel was carrying.
Alex halted beside Daniel, smiled into his eyes. Whereas Daniel had his mother’s coloring-dark hair and brown eyes-Alex and Roderick had inherited the earl’s distinctive pale blond hair and pale blue eyes. In Alex’s case, ice- blue eyes. “Larkins knows the price of failure-I’m sure he’ll manage, one way or another. I’m more concerned with the others-while I’ve allowed Roderick to think he’s in charge, M’wallah is, as usual, receiving all communication from cult members first. So while what Roderick just told us is correct, and we’ve men and assassins on the trail of the other three with strict orders to inform us the instant any of them successfully reach one of the embarkation ports on the Continent, the very latest news as of an hour ago is that Hamilton has reached Boulogne.”
“I take it the Major remains in possession of his customary rude health?” Daniel started to undo his cuffs.
“Sadly, yes. However, Uncle-you know the man, the sycophant always happy to slit the nearest throat ‘to the glory and the delight of the Black Cobra’?” When Daniel nodded, Alex went on, “Uncle and his men are already in Boulogne. At this point, we must rely on them to ensure Hamilton gets no further.”
“Any word on the other two?” Daniel wasn’t surprised to learn that Alex had withheld information from Roderick. It was common practice between them, keeping their dear half brother sufficiently in the dark so that they controlled the cult. In truth, they were the power behind Roderick’s facade.
“The story with Monteith is rather better. Our men in Lisbon spotted him the instant he set foot on the dock there. He’d signed on as crew on a Portuguese merchantman out of Diu-that’s why we missed picking up his trail at that end. He’d gone from Bombay overland to Diu and was too far ahead of our trackers. But he saw our men on the Lisbon docks. Although he was alone, he managed to fight his way out of an ambush, creating such a stir that he was able to get away. He immediately grabbed passage on another merchantman bound for Portsmouth. That was on the fourth of December, more than a week ago. What the dear major didn’t know is that three assassins slipped onto the ship before it sailed. With any luck, Monteith is dead by now.
“As for Carstairs, I told you we had word he’d passed through Budapest and was headed for Vienna?”
Pulling his shirt free of his trousers, Daniel nodded.
“Since then, we’ve heard nothing, but he seems to be the slowest of the four, the furthest away. We can put off dealing with him for the moment.” Alex smiled as Daniel stripped off his shirt. “Indeed,” Alex murmured, “I believe we can put off all further discussion of the tiresome subject of Roderick’s lost letter-at least for now.”
Taking Daniel’s hand, Alex led him to the bed. “Time for dwelling on other things, my dear.”
Halting by the side of the sumptuous bed, Alex turned and went into Daniel’s arms.
Six
He’d tried to do the right thing, but Linnet had turned the tables on him.
The next morning, Logan sat at the breakfast table outwardly listening to a general discussion of the day’s planned activities while inwardly brooding on his reversal of the night.
His foxy hostess-she of the fiery hair, peridot eyes, and incredibly fine white skin-had neatly manipulated him with her demand-one he couldn’t very well decline, given it was entirely within his ability to comply-to repay her by teaching her more about the pleasures to be had when a man and a woman joined.
If it had been nothing more than physical pleasure-the giving and the taking-he wouldn’t be so… uneasy. But he was too good a commander not to see the problems looming. They were who they were, yet… she might come to mean, might even have already started to mean, too much to him.
He’d known she was different from the very first instant he’d laid eyes on her-his angel who was no angel. From the moment he’d slid into her willing body in his dream that had been no dream, he’d known she was special, that she held the promise, the chance, the hope of more-that she, somehow, resonated with some need buried deep within him, one he hadn’t yet articulated but that somehow instinctively she fulfilled.
All well and good, but until he recalled who he was, what he was doing, and where he was supposed to be, any relationship between her and him was… stifled. For all he knew, it might be strangled at birth.
She might not want him even if he wanted her.
“Stop frowning.”
The words from his left, in typical bossy vein, had him changing his absentminded frown to a scowl and bending it on her.
Linnet pulled a face at him. He’d been in a strange mood ever since he’d come downstairs. “I’ve been thinking
