If He's Dangerous Read online

  She hurried ahead of her cousins and Sir Argus, unlocking the door to the carriage house. One deep breath was enough to tell her that Max had done as she had asked and prepared the place for a guest. Sending Vale on ahead with the message had been a hurried decision and might not have been the wisest one. Max would undoubtedly question her later on all the secrecy she had insisted upon, but she could not worry about that now.

  “Get him settled in the bed,” she told her cousins. “I will go and see if Max left all I asked for in the kitchens.”

  Lorelei rushed into the kitchens only to come to a halt so quickly she stumbled and had to grab the back of a chair to steady herself. Max himself stood at the stove idly stirring a small pot of a rich-smelling broth and eyeing her in that way that always made her feel guilty, even when she had done nothing to feel guilty about. She stood up straight, brushed down her skirts, and attempted to act like the grown woman she was and not some child caught stealing biscuits.

  Max was not like most butlers. He ruled the Sundun household far more than her father did. He and her father had been together since they had been small boys. Max had the common sense her father sometimes lacked. He had stood firmly at the duke’s side through three marriages, three funerals of wives dead before their time, the burial of the late duke, her poor ill-fated Uncle Cecil the previous heir and his wife, and the arrival of every one of seventeen children, plus Cecil’s two orphaned daughters and a vast assortment of young cousins. Lorelei knew her father loved them all, but, although the duke did his best, it was Max who was the guiding hand for all the children calling Sundunmoor home. She doubted Max would do more than quirk one dark brow in derision if she tried to play the haughty mistress with him now.

  “Did you truly believe I would not wish to ascertain exactly who this mysterious visitor is?” asked Max. “Or why he must hide here in the utmost secrecy?”

  “I had hoped such would be the way of it,” she mumbled.

  “It grieves me to dash your hopes.” He ignored her snort of disbelief. “Who is he and why must he hide?” He set a cup of chocolate on the table and nudged her into a seat. “I expect you to leave no detail out of your undoubtedly convoluted explanation.”

  Lorelei took a sip of the rich chocolate as she hastily thought of what to tell Max. Once she was composed enough to speak calmly, certain that she could disguise any hint that she was being less than precise on the sequence of events, she told Max just how a wounded man had come to be hiding in the gatehouse. She avoided all mention of nakedness and kisses, but, when she was finished, Max was looking at her as if he knew she had omitted a few things. Lorelei hoped it was just a natural wariness he had gained from years of dealing with the large Sundun brood and not a true suspicion that she had not been completely truthful.

  Max sat down across the table from her and sipped on his own cup of chocolate. “Wherlocke, Wherlocke,” he mumbled, his brow creased with thought. “Ah, yes, I have heard of them. Head of the family is a young duke. A recluse named Modred Vaughn, Duke of Elderwood. I do not recall what number he is though, but it is an old title.”

  “Modred?” She shook her head. “I had not noticed that name when I sent word to him. I think his name was obscured, just the letter M and then a list of other more common names. Poor fellow. No wonder he just uses the initial when he can.”

  “Quite. I have heard whispers that the family has worked for the government from time to time.”

  It was not difficult for Lorelei to see how a man like Sir Argus could prove to be a great asset to king and country. With his gift he could unearth all manner of helpful secrets.

  “I have also heard rumors that the men of the family are rogues,” continued Max. “It is said that there is even a house in London where they place their many by-blows.”

  “Oh, dear. Well, at least they care for them. Too few do.”

  Max slowly nodded. “That is something in their favor. I believe I will take the broth to our guest. You will go up to the main house now.”

  “But . . .”

  “No. You are a very clever woman, m’lady, but you are also quick to trust and have a very sympathetic nature. I must personally take the measure of this man before I can agree to keep this all secret, especially since I strongly suspect you have no intention of setting his care into the hands of the servants.”

  “The fewer people who know he is here, the safer he will be.”

  “True, but I wish to assure myself of the need for subterfuge.”

  Max allowed her to mix a few herbs into a tankard of cider and then ordered her home. She knew it was useless to argue with his command. Many of her class would find Max’s ways intrusive, those of a man who was stepping far beyond the bounds of a servant, but the man was too intricately intertwined with her family for the Sunduns to be so rigid. As she made her way home, she prayed Max did not decide that she could not help Sir Argus. She knew she would fight that decision tooth and nail, and hated the thought of being on the wrong side of Max.

  Argus looked at the tall, thin man setting a tray down on the bedside table. “Are you another cousin?”

  “No.” Max helped Sir Argus sit up straighter in the bed, cautious not to cause him much pain. “I am Max, butler to His Grace, the Duke of Sundunmoor.”

  “Max? Your surname is Max?” A stupid question, thought Argus, but he was too busy fighting the pain in his ribs to care.

  “No. I do not choose to use my surname. It tempts people to make unseemly jests. My surname is Cocksbaine.”

  “Ah. Quite. Well, Max, I am Sir Argus Wherlocke.”

  “So I was told.” Max sat on the edge of the bed and began to spoon-feed Argus a thick, rich beef broth. “I sent her ladyship home as I felt it was important that I make a judgment on all of this without her close at hand. Her sympathies are too easily roused. So, you are in real danger?”

  “I did not do this to myself,” Argus grumbled in between swallows.

  Max looked him over. “You have evidently been hard done by, but an angry husband could easily be the cause. The tale that you have some strange gift that a man sought to steal from you is, as I am certain you know, a little difficult to believe.”

  “Let me show you what my enemy wished to steal,” Argus said as he gently grasped the man’s wrist, caught his gaze, and began to tell him that he should not interfere.

  “It is my duty to interfere if I believe her ladyship is in danger.”

  Argus was so startled he released Max’s wrist, got another spoonful of broth shoved in his mouth, and had to swallow before he could speak. “You felt nothing?”

  “A brief inclination to heed your words, but it was easily shaken off once I realized it was not something I was inclined to do.”

  “Damn my eyes. First Lady Lorelei. Now you.” He grimaced when he saw the way Max’s dark eyes narrowed in suspicion.

  “You tried that trick on her ladyship?”

  “I was attempting to ensure that I remained well hidden and to protect myself.” From a highborn virgin’s outrage or expectations, he mused, but had no intention of telling this protective butler that. “And it is no trick. It also works quite well on most people. It was certainly easy enough to convince Vale that it would be best if the servants at Dunn Manor remained ignorant of my presence. As I told her ladyship, I usually only experience difficulty if I try to use it on members of my family.”

  “Or someone with a strong will?”

  “Ah, yes, that, too. At times.”

  “I am also a distant relation to a Vaughn. Some great-great-someone. That, too, may be it. I did, as I said, feel a touch of compulsion to heed your command so I can accept that you have this gift. Just as I have to accept that you somehow managed to appear to her ladyship in her father’s garden and asked for help. But, why would anyone think they could take such a gift away from you?”

  “Madness? Greed strong enough to disorder good sense? Cornick and whoever is his ally thought I could just give it to them or teach it to
them. Cornick even said he was bringing a witch soon to try to spell it out of me.”

  The soft noise Max made was so full of derision, Argus almost smiled. Instead, he dutifully ate the rest of the broth Max fed him. It was with great reluctance that he took the tankard of cider Max held out to him, however. He could smell the herbs in the drink and briefly considered holding Lady Lorelei to her word that the one he had drunk before the trip here was the last one. But, he could not deny that, after the long journey to Sundunmoor, he needed it if he was to get any sleep at all. The ache in his ribs alone was enough to keep him awake for hours. Last time, he promised himself, and began to drink the potion.

  “How is it that you were able to tell her ladyship that you were in danger?”

  “This may be difficult for you to believe.” Argus decided that Max was very skilled at saying a lot with but one quirk of a dark brow and then proceeded to tell him of how he had arranged to reach his family, only to make a brief appearance in the gardens of Sundunmoor. “I am still not quite sure why I ended up in that garden instead of at my sister’s or cousin’s home although Lady Lorelei believes some old rune stones may have had something to do with it. It certainly was not where I had intended to be, and the few times I have done it before I went where I planned to.”

  “The stones may well be the answer to that puzzle. They are very old, set into the ground in a circle, and there are many old tales of such places holding a great deal of power. Or magic, if you prefer to call it such.”

  “So you believe me?” Argus was unable to hide his surprise.

  “Let us just say that I am intrigued. Such things have long fascinated His Grace. Magic, odd skills that cannot be explained, spirits, and all that. He and I have spent many an evening discussing such matters. It also explains why her ladyship abruptly sent messages to three people she has never met. She also used everything necessary to make it clear that the missive came from a ducal household so that it would, perhaps, gain swifter notice.”

  “Do you recall who she notified of my need?”

  “The Duke of Elderwood, the Baron of Upping-ton, and Lady Olympia Wherlocke, the Baroness of Stryke Hall. None have yet replied.”

  “Not surprising. At this time of year it can be difficult to catch anyone at home. Save Modred, but even he has begun to leave Elderwood from time to time. It has not even been a sennight yet.” He studied Max for a moment. “You really are inclined to believe me, are you not?”

  “I am, although I wish her ladyship had not involved herself in your troubles. Once she heard your request for help, however, there was no turning back for her. I am pleased that she has brought you here, for her own protection if not yours. Sundunmoor is well protected. And, yet, no place is truly impregnable, so I am hoping that your family comes to your aid soon.”

  “As soon as they get word, they will come.” Argus had no doubt about that, was a little surprised that some of them were not already looking for him, as his family was always quickly aware of when one of their number was hurt or in danger. He just wished he could know which ones would appear so that he could better prepare his hosts. “I am grateful and rather surprised that Lady Lorelei found me so quickly. I had few clues to leave her with.”

  “Her ladyship has always had a true skill for finding things. Or people.”

  “A useful talent.”

  Argus carefully set the empty tankard on the bedside table. The herbs were already at work, dulling his senses and weighing down his limbs. He suspected the potion was working so quickly because the journey had stolen most of the strength he had regained at Dunn Manor. He did not like it, but accepted the need for it.

  “I would suspect that yours is far more useful,” murmured Max as he helped Argus into a prone position, gently arranging the pillows more comfortably behind his head.

  “It is, but it carries a dangerous curse with it. One must ever fight the seduction of it.” Argus wondered why he was being so honest with the man and decided he was just too weary, too concerned with the pain nearly every move he made brought him, to guard his words more carefully. “It is not a temptation one can walk away from, either. I carry it with me wherever I go.”

  “Rather like lust.”

  Argus stared at Max for a moment and then grinned. “Why, so it is.”

  “But a man learns to temper it.”

  “Max, if you are trying to be subtle about something, I pray you cease. My mind is too cursed hazy for such games.”

  “Lady Lorelei is a beautiful young lady.”

  “Ah, I thought that might be what you were ambling toward. A warning to leave her be. Not to worry. I owe her my life and I am far from suitable for the daughter of a duke.”

  “You misunderstand me, sir. You are wellborn. I suspect you have a purse full enough to satisfy any father, too. I shall be blunt.”

  “Please do.”

  “Do not seduce the girl. She is too trusting and too soft of heart. An easy target for a rogue, despite her sharp wits. I but ask that you play no rogue’s games with her. If something occurs between you and her ladyship, you will accept responsibility. I will not have her hurt or shamed.”

  “Agreed. Nor will I.”

  “Then I will leave you to get your rest,” Max bowed, “for it is the best cure for the sort of injuries you have suffered.”

  “Why do you not just keep her away from me?” asked Argus.

  Max paused in the doorway to look back at Argus. “You ask that concerning the young lady who crept about in the night dressed as a lad and dragged you out of your prison?”

  “Point taken.”

  With a brief nod, Max left, and Argus stopped fighting to keep his eyes open.

  Lorelei wondered if a heart could beat itself to death. Hers was pounding so hard she was surprised it had not echoed through the halls as she had crept through the house. Max was busy and her cousins were off fishing so she knew Argus was alone. No one else had been informed of his presence. She carried her sketchbook just in case she was caught and had to explain where she was going, but she hoped she was not forced to make excuses, for she knew she was a poor liar.

  She had slept the night away and guilt was a heavy stone in her stomach. Lorelei knew it was foolish to feel so guilty, that Sir Argus was neither mortally wounded nor completely infirm and in desperate need of constant watching. He could tend to his basic needs without help once he had rested from the journey. Max had also assured her that he had left food, drink, and clean nightclothes for Sir Argus close at hand. There was no reason for her to suffer any guilt or worry, and yet she was gripped hard by a need to see him. She did not like to think of him all alone or in any pain.

  The gatehouse was so quiet as she entered that she found it a little eerie. She was unaccustomed to being anywhere that was totally devoid of people, especially servants. She grimaced, afraid she had just allowed her imagination to run wild, filling her head with visions of Sir Argus calling out for help. Setting the pack that held her sketching materials down on the table in the hall, she pulled a book from the pack and started up the stairs. Lorelei hoped Sir Argus believed that she had simply thought to keep him company, perhaps read to him for a while. It would be unbearably humiliating if he guessed that she had been afraid for his health and safety. Sir Argus was a big, strong, worldly man. She was often described as delicate and knew she had led a very sheltered life. The man would probably laugh at the idea that she thought to protect him.

  She reached for the handle of the door and then paused. Although she could not hear anything, she knew he could be awake, asleep, or even indecent. Lorelei rapped softly on the door, heard a muttered command to enter, and quickly did so.

  The sight of Sir Argus stopped Lorelei after she had taken only two steps into the room. He was sitting up in the bed, his nightshirt open to his waist. She briefly noted that the bedcovers were pulled up to that trim waist, for it was his chest that captured her full interest. He did have a very fine chest, she thought. Broad, taut with m
uscle, and with only a small patch of hair. The bandage wrapped around him hid too much of him in her opinion. She had the strangest, strongest urge to hurl herself into his arms and rub her cheek against that smooth swarthy skin. She would enjoy it, but, considering his injuries, she doubted he would.

  “Thought you were Max,” Argus said and hastened to close his nightshirt. “You should not be here.” He hoped he did not sound as prim to her as he did to his own ears.

  Lorelei had to bite back a sigh of disappointment as his handsome chest disappeared beneath the crisp white linen of the nightshirt. “I have come to read to you, if you wish me to. You have been left alone for quite a while and I thought you might like a little company.”

  Argus glanced at the book she held. “A tale of an old battle between the Cavaliers and the Roundheads? Strange choice for a young lady.”

  “I have brothers, sir. They all enjoy this so I thought you might.” She frowned. “Although, if you recognize it so quickly you must have read it already.”

  “Know of it. Have not yet read it.”

  “Shall I read it to you then?”

  He wanted to say no, knew that was what he should say, but he found he did not have the heart to dim the hopeful light in her beautiful eyes. Although he would never admit it aloud, he had been achingly bored, weary of having no company but his own thoughts. The short walk he had taken around the room had left him aching and so exhausted he had been unable to do more than lie there staring at the ceiling. It had been too soon to get up and move, but he knew he would keep doing so, for he had enemies and needed to get strong again as fast as possible. Argus decided listening to her read to him would be innocent enough. He was too weak to be any threat to her virtue anyway.