Beauty Tempts the Beast (Sins for All Seasons #6) - Lorraine Heath Page 0,57

Aiden tilted his head toward the canvas. “These two bring me joy. It’s to be my gift to Lena for Christmas so if you see my wife before then, please don’t mention it.”

“Your secret is safe with me.”

Aiden walked over to a small table, lifted a decanter, and poured scotch into two tumblers. He handed one to Beast. “If you were out in this mess, you could use warming.”

“Indeed. Cheers.” He took a healthy swallow, welcoming the heat that burned his throat and seeped into his chest and limbs.

“I’m accustomed to seeing you more often during the late hours of the night rather than during the day.”

They both thrived at night, a trait they shared in common. “I had some business to tend to that could only be done during the day, so I was in the area and needed to have a word. I wanted to know if a Lord Chadbourne makes use of the Cerberus Club.”

In addition to this one, the Elysium Club, that catered to ladies’ fantasies, Aiden owned a gaming hell where fortunes were won and lost—mostly lost—each night. His brother had always had a fascination with mythology, which might account for his wife appearing to be a goddess in every portrait he created of her.

“Only within the past year or so.” While the club had once held a reputation of being a last resort for the nobility who couldn’t get credit elsewhere, its reputation had gained a bit more respectability since Aiden had married a widowed duchess. “Why?”

“Does he owe you? Do you have any of his chits that can be called in?”

“No. He has astoundingly good luck at the tables. I’ve considered that he’s cheating but if he is, I’ve been unable to determine how.”

“Do you know if he’s still in London?”

“He was as of a couple of nights ago.”

“What game does he favor?”

“Four-card brag.”

Beast wasn’t surprised that Aiden knew the answer. People often underestimated his brother, didn’t realize he remembered the smallest of details when it came to the people who frequented his clubs. “Would you inform your club manager to send word to me the next time he comes in to play?”

After slowly sipping his scotch, Aiden traced a finger around the rim of the glass. “What’s her name?”

The question shouldn’t have come as a shock. Aiden had been in his life from the moment Beast had been dropped off at Ettie Trewlove’s door. While none of them had known precisely when they’d been born, their mum had been able to determine based on when their first teeth appeared that only a few months separated them in ages. He thought about ignoring the question but trusted no one more than he did the members of his family. “Althea.”

“I assume he did wrong by her.”

“Not in the manner you’re thinking.” He and his brothers had come to the defense of many a woman whom some man had taken physical advantage of. Their own mum being the first. Beth, the seamstress, being another. “But he hurt her all the same.”

Aiden nodded. “Word will be sent.”

Beast felt the tight band he hadn’t realized was around his chest loosen, even as the hand not holding the tumbler began to flex in readiness for delivering a blow. “I don’t love her.”

He didn’t know why he’d blurted that. If he could go back in time three seconds, he’d bite his tongue.

“I didn’t say you did.”

“She’s just someone I’m helping out.”

“Lena was someone I was simply helping out, so take care, brother, or you might find yourself writing poetry instead of novels.”

Beth was a talker, extremely adept at carrying on a separate conversation in between measurements, displaying fabric choices, and suggesting changes to patterns. So it was that Althea learned a good deal more about not only Benedict but the Trewloves overall. She was looking forward to presenting her newfound knowledge on the way home—not home. The residence was not her home, in spite of the fact that she felt incredibly comfortable within its walls. It was merely a temporary abode. None of its inhabitants would remain in her life, Benedict wouldn’t remain in her life. Eventually, he would become merely a memory.

She didn’t much like the joy that swept through her when he came in through the door. It had been so encompassing that she’d failed to notice the woman who’d glided in ahead of him—with a young servant girl in her wake—until the termagant spoke.

“Beth, I was not aware you catered to traitors. I shall have to