London Temptations: Historical Regency Romance Collection Read online

  Benedict, realizing that he had not yet introduced the lady, was about to do so when Mr. Holbrook stepped forward and bowed low in front of Miss Millerton.

  “Whatever it is, my lady, I am at your service,” he said as Mr. Long nodded fervently. “I am honored that you would seek out our help.”

  Before Benedict could say more, a sudden tap on his shoulder caught his attention.

  “Forgive me for interrupting your conversation, Knightsbridge,” Lord Hemsley said, his expression rather anxious. “But Mr. Easthill has only just quit the room. I believe he had a glass of brandy in his hand.” His voice lowered as he spoke and Benedict quickly put on a very grave expression.

  "I see,” he murmured, putting one hand on Lord Hemsley’s shoulder. “Thank you, my friend. I am truly appreciative of your help.”

  Having done his duty, Lord Hemsley scurried away again, clearly eager to get back to the dancing now that he no longer had to watch Mr. Easthill.

  “The perfect opportunity for us to remove ourselves from this ballroom and to a quieter situation, perhaps?” Benedict suggested, and the two men nodded their agreement. “I thank you both for your willingness. It is as Miss Millerton has said.” He reached out and touched her hand. “We are both in a very difficult situation—of which none of it is of our own making.”

  “Please,” Mr. Long said, gesturing for Benedict to move ahead. “Whatever we can do, my lord.”

  Benedict smiled and ignored the knot of tension in his stomach. “Then might you follow me, gentlemen?”

  It did not take them long to make their way to the study. Miss Millerton walked in silence beside him and a glance at her face revealed a paleness to her cheeks and a tightness about her mouth. The two men followed without hesitation, and neither of them spoke a word, waiting for Benedict himself to explain what was needed.

  “My lord!”

  The butler’s voice was more animated than Benedict had ever heard before.

  “Yes?” Benedict waited but the butler said nothing, merely nodding his head, his eyes holding the answer that Benedict had been waiting for.

  “Then instruct the footmen,” was all Benedict said, before he turned to the men beside him. They looked rather bewildered, although Miss Millerton’s hand was a little tighter on Benedict’s arm.

  “Mr. Long, Mr. Holbrook,” he began without taking a single step toward the study door. “Miss Millerton has been forced to write anonymous notes to me. Notes that demand that I obey a particular set of instructions.”

  Mr. Long’s eyes widened. “Forced?” he said, looking to Miss Millerton, who nodded. “In what way?”

  When Miss Millerton spoke, her voice was soft but determined. Quickly she related all that had happened to her and Benedict was pleased to see the shock ripple across both men’s faces. It seemed they would not have to convince them that Miss Millerton, at least, was telling the truth.

  “I also was threatened in much the same way,” Benedict told them when Miss Millerton had finished. “My mother’s life was put in danger. Thus, I had no other choice but to do as they asked.” He took in a deep breath, knowing that now he was to come to the crux of the matter. The truth would have to be told. “I believe, Mr. Long, Mr. Holbrook, that smugglers have been using my cellar for their nefarious purposes.”

  Mr. Holbrook blinked rapidly.

  “I have some of the notes still, to prove that what the earl says is true,” Miss Millerton said quickly. “I only confessed my part to him recently, and since then we have fought together to discover the truth.”

  “Which I am about to present to you now,” Benedict added. “There is a man within my study, I believe, who has been involved in this from the very beginning. It is he who has been trying to persuade me to do as he asks. It is he who is now within my study, seeking to find the documents pertaining to a particular ship. And it is he who has sent the rest of the smugglers into my house this very night.”

  Mr. Long gave a startled shake of his head. “For what purpose?”

  Spreading his hands, Benedict shrugged. “I cannot yet say, but I do hope that all will become clear—and I hope that you are willing to help me in these final discoveries. After all, you are revenue agents, are you not?”

  Mr. Holbrook glanced at Mr. Long and then cleared his throat. “We are,” he said slowly. “Although I think we shall need a little more explanation, my lord.”

  “And you shall have it,” Benedict said firmly. “But now, let us open the door and reveal just who has been using me in this spurious manner.”

  It came as no surprise that the study door was open. Having already realized that Easthill would merely have searched Benedict’s rooms in order to find the key and then replaced it whilst he slept, Benedict had made things a good deal easier for the gentleman by leaving the study door unlocked. He pushed the door wide and they all walked in one after the other.

  Mr. Easthill stared back at them, his eyes wide and his hands clutching a stack of papers. Papers that he had taken from Benedict’s drawer.

  “Cousin,” Benedict said easily. “If you are looking for the documents relating to my ship, I must tell you that you will be unable to find them here.” He tilted his head, seeing how his cousin’s mouth opened and shut, the color draining from him as he remained exactly in the same position. “In fact, I should tell you that Mr. Taylor has them and that he is currently resting in one of my guest bedchambers, with the door locked and a footman waiting by the door to ensure he is not disturbed.”

  “I—I do not understand,” Mr. Long said, speaking out of the corner of his mouth as though Mr. Easthill would be unable to hear him if he did so. “This gentleman is your cousin?”

  “Indeed,” Benedict said with a nod. “And he is also the one who has been working with the smugglers.” Looking back at his cousin, he frowned gently. “Did you intend to use my ship as part of your current scheme with the smugglers, Easthill? And presume that, given your continued threats toward my mother’s life, I would have no other choice but to give it to you?”

  Easthill straightened slowly, putting the papers down. His eyes no longer had their wild, fearful look but rather were calculated, shifting between Benedict and Miss Millerton.

  “It is too late, Knightsbridge,” he said, speaking in such a harsh tone that Benedict could practically feel the hatred pouring from him. “You cannot pretend.”

  Benedict lifted one eyebrow. “Pretend?”

  “Gentlemen,” Mr. Easthill said, turning to address Mr. Long and Mr. Holbrook. “You are both revenue agents. How glad I am that you are here this evening.” He sighed heavily and shook his head. “My cousin has been working with smugglers in order to shift contraband further into the country.” Again he shook his head, regret filling his features. “I have been doing what I can to prevent him from being discovered because, after all, he is my cousin and my family, but there is nothing more I can do given that you are now here.”

  Benedict did not have to look at Miss Millerton to know that she was shocked by what Mr. Easthill was trying to do. He heard her swift intake of breath, felt her fingers on his arm, but did not allow himself to become angry.

  “That is what you were intending to do, was it?” he asked, taking a small step toward his cousin, keeping his eyes fixed on him. “I confess I did not know why the smugglers were to come into my home on the night of the ball, but now I believe I understand. They were to place various items into my home, so that when the time came, the discovery of such items would force me into hiding from society.” He shook his head at the cunningness of his cousin’s plan. “I would have known nothing of it, not until the revenue agents appeared at my door—no doubt with you standing by their side to encourage them to do what their job entails—and thus my condemnation would be complete.”

  Miss Millerton gasped and Benedict turned to her.

  “The cases of brandy!” she exclaimed, her eyes wide. “The crates! That is where they have stored the items that are to be placed in your hom
e!”

  Benedict smiled at her, nodding as he agreed. “Again, you show your intelligence, Miss Millerton. Thank you.” Turning back to his cousin, he kept his smile on his face. “Very well done, Easthill.”

  His cousin did not immediately reply, his jaw working furiously. “You are admitting to keeping crates of contraband in your cellar, Lord Knightsbridge?”

  Unable to help it, Benedict grinned broadly at his cousin. “Cellar, Easthill?” he said, seeing that his cousin had already made one mistake. “I did not mention anything about the cellar.” Tilting his head, he watched his cousin closely. “And I have the notes that were sent to me as regarded the cellar, the crates, the brandy, and the threats. Notes that I fully intend to show to Mr. Long and Mr. Holbrook.”

  Mr. Holbrook cleared his throat, crossing his arms over his chest. “How did you know of the cellar, Mr. Easthill, given that Lord Knightsbridge did not mention it prior to you?”

  Mr. Easthill said nothing, a look of panic beginning to take over his expression.

  “Perhaps my cousin would be able to show us where some of these illegal items are being held,” Benedict said with a small shrug. “I should be very glad to know where they are and precisely how he came to know about them.”

  “I—I have seen them!” Easthill exclaimed, throwing up his hands. “I am sure that—”

  “Except,” Miss Millerton interrupted, her voice a good deal stronger than before, “that the men you sent into this house, the men who are meant to be opening the crates and now scurrying through the house, placing them where they will easily be discovered?” Taking a step forward, she came to stand next to Benedict. “You will find, Mr. Easthill, that some of the footmen, the gardeners, and the stable hands have all been watching and waiting for your men to come in through the cellar door.”

  “And since they have done so,” Benedict added, seeing his cousin begin to sink into what was Benedict’s study chair, “the door to the passage that leads to the sea has been bolted shut from the outside. Many of the men, I think, will still be in the cellar, attempting to get out, but they will not succeed.” He shrugged. “And any who have managed to leave the cellar will have been detained below stairs.” Turning to Mr. Long and Mr. Holbrook, he gave them both a wide smile. “You will have a great many smugglers to deal with, I think. And, in addition, you shall have this fool, who has spent many, many months making my life, as well as the life of Miss Millerton, one of absolute misery and fear.” The anger he had long felt began to burn hot within his heart, but with an effort, Benedict restrained himself. “I am quite content to remain here with him for as long as you wish.”

  Mr. Easthill shook his head before slamming one fist down hard on the table, his face crimson with anger and his eyes narrowed. “You have everything, Knightsbridge. Everything!”

  “As I am entitled to,” Benedict replied calmly, although he hid his astonishment at the clear hatred that his cousin had evidently hidden for so long.

  “I am constantly in your shadow!” Easthill roared, his fury burning out from within him. “To live close to you and to see your extravagance, your wealth, and your lack of consideration for others is nothing short of galling! This is what you deserve! To be humiliated in the eyes of the ton, to be found guilty of the worst crime…” He shook his head. “That title would one day come to me. None would want to associate with you any longer. You would have no choice but to live your life alone until your breath left your body—or until you chose to rid the world of yourself.”

  Benedict let out his breath, feeling the shock of his cousin’s ire washing over him. So his cousin had intended to make certain that Benedict’s good name was shamed forever. He had clearly hoped that the resulting shame would force Benedict into a life of solitary misery—which, Benedict considered, was most likely what would have occurred, should his cousin have been successful in his endeavors.

  “You have never once come to me for help, Easthill,” he said quietly, looking at his cousin. “Never have you come to my door and asked for help. Should you have done so, I would have been more than glad to do so, should your cause have been worthy.” He was surprised that instead of anger bubbling up within him, there was only sadness and sorrow. Sadness that his cousin had chosen to do such a thing and sorrow that Easthill had felt such a way for such a long time, without ever expressing it to Benedict himself. “But you have made your choice,” he finished, turning toward Mr. Long and Mr. Holbrook. “Gentlemen. What is it you intend to do?”

  For a moment, Benedict feared that the men would refuse to do anything, would state that Easthill could go home so long as he promised never to do such a thing again. But then Mr. Holbrook stepped forward and lifted his chin, and Benedict was surprised to see the hard lines that had formed across his forehead and the narrowing of his eyes.

  “We do not consider you guilty in any way, Lord Knightsbridge, Miss Millerton.” He cleared his throat. “I believe that Mr. Easthill here has revealed all to us. We shall take matters in hand from here.” Inclining his head, he gestured to the door. “Might you send in a footman or two, in order to make certain Mr. Easthill does not escape? Mr. Long will remain here also whilst I go in search of these other smugglers.” He smiled tightly. “I would not wish to keep you from your ball.”

  “Thank you, gentlemen,” Benedict said with relief. Walking to the door, he opened it and murmured quickly to the footman outside. Within a few minutes, two footmen came in and stood by the door, satisfying Mr. Holbrook.

  “Thank you, Lord Knightsbridge.”

  Benedict nodded. “There is another footman waiting for you, to take you to the other smugglers when you are ready, Mr. Holbrook,” he said quietly. “But now, I shall take Miss Millerton back to the ball. Again, I thank you for your help and for your understanding.”

  Mr. Holbrook nodded whilst Mr. Long murmured something incomprehensible. Offering Miss Millerton his arm, Benedict smiled at her as she took it, feeling a great weight lift off his shoulders as he led her from the room, leaving behind the distress and the confusion that had captured him for so long.

  They walked back toward the ballroom in silence, their steps slow and their thoughts beginning to come to order.

  “Miss Millerton—Susanna.”

  The words came from his mouth before he could prevent them and he turned toward her, taking her hands in his and looking down into her face. The hallway was quiet and he smiled to himself, reminded of the many times they had met in a quiet hallway before this moment.

  “Is it over?” she sighed, closing her eyes for a moment. “It is all at an end, is it not?”

  Pressing her hands, he nodded. “It is.”

  “I shall have no more notes to write, no more threats to trouble my mind,” she continued, opening her eyes to look at him. “That is all gone from me now.”

  “And from me also,” he told her, letting go of her hand but only so that he might brush his fingers down her cheek. “Had it not been for you, Susanna, I am not at all sure that I would have ever managed to achieve such freedom. This was your intention, your plan. And just look at how successful it has been.”

  Miss Millerton shook her head. “If you had not treated me with kindness as you did, if you had not been understanding when I told you the truth, then we might never have found freedom,” she answered gently. “I cannot tell you how glad I am.”

  “Nor can I,” he told her, taking a step closer to her and letting his hands settle on her waist, pulling her against him gently. How he loved seeing her blush and smile at his touch, loved how her eyes flared with awareness. His heart beat only for her and he desperately wanted to tell her so.

  “My dear Susanna,” he murmured, praying that they would not be interrupted. “I intend to come with you when you return to your father. I want to ask him at once whether or not we might marry. I do not think I can be parted from you, Susanna, not when my love for you burns so deeply within my heart.”

  She caught her breath and then, with a beautiful
smile that spread across her face, she flung her arms about his neck, standing on tiptoe as she did so.

  “Your words of love echo what is within my heart also,” she answered, making him sigh with both relief and joy. “I cannot think of being separated from you. I do not wish to be gone from your side. I want to live a life of happiness, freedom, and joy with you and only you.”

  “Then I am certain you shall have what you desire, my love,” he told her, feeling his heart burst with happiness. “For it is what I desire also.”

  Leaning down, he kissed her gently, feeling her relax against him. His heart was full, his mind free from the terrors that had gripped it for so long. No longer did he have to linger in this house alone, held back by fear and doubt. Now he had Susanna by his side and a new love for them to share together. He could ask for nothing more.

  Prudence’s Mystery

  London Temptations Book Two

  Prudence’s Mystery

  Text Copyright © 2020 by Joyce Alec

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  First printing, 2020

  Publisher

  Love Light Faith, LLC

  400 NW 7th Avenue, Unit 825

  Fort Lauderdale, FL 33311

  Prologue

  “Thank you for the dance, Lady Prudence. I do look forward to being in your company again.”

  Prudence smiled and curtsied toward the gentleman but chose, wisely, to say nothing. The truth was, she had not enjoyed dancing with him, for his hands had been much too tight and he had once stepped on her slipper, without even being aware of it. She was rather annoyed with his lack of consideration and skill and thus did not want to give him even the slightest encouragement that she would accept a dance from him again. He walked alongside her from the dance floor until she was safely back with her mother, Lady Devonshire.