Wicked Surrender (Regency Sinners)(28)
Dante watched her remove her cloak and bonnet, straightening her hair after the latter. “How long have you been awake?”
Bella met and held his gaze. “Since you insisted on carrying me back here. But I was tired and winded after running and then being knocked down by a horse, and decided it was the least you could do when you are the reason I am here at all.” She ignored Dante’s hiss of disbelief as she turning her attention to the second man in the room. “Lord Trentham, the Marquis of Deveril,” she recognized. From what she had heard of the two men’s conversation, Deveril, also a Sinner, was yet another agent for the Crown.
He was also recognized as being one of the most handsome men in England, his brown hair fashionably styled, his features saturnine, his dark eyes glittering, his tall physique muscular and fit. He was also one of the most eligible gentlemen in the country, possessing a vast fortune as well as his title.
He now rose to his feet and gave her a formal bow. “Lady Aston.”
She raised her eyebrows at the formality. “Do you also believe me guilty of treason?”
His brows rose at her immediate attack. “I have no opinion on the matter,” he dismissed.
“And yet you are here on the instruction of Dominik Sinclair, the Duke of Stonewell, and a spymaster for the Crown?” She gave Dante a triumphant glance as she saw from his expression that she had correctly guessed who the Nik was mentioned by the marquis earlier. That she was also correct in her assumption he was that third party and so spymaster for the Crown spoken of by Dante.
Deveril did not confirm or deny her comment regarding Stonewell’s involvement. “I am here to offer my assistance in proving your innocence or guilt.”
She snorted. “I fear you are a little late in your intent when your friend over there has already mentally stood me in front of a magistrate, seen me found guilty and sentenced, and is now waiting for that sentence to be carried out!”
“His friend over here has done no such thing,” Dante defended impatiently.
Bella gave him a dismissive glance before she turned her attention back to the marquis. “I hope you have brought good news, my lord?”
“Inconclusive so far, I am afraid, ma’am.” He grimaced. “The Monroes have not been found as yet, but we have several men searching the roads to Scotland for the inn in which they might have decided to spend the night.”
“Their trip will be a wasted one,” she assured him with certainty. “I very much doubt the Monroes are any more guilty of treason than I am. The only thing I am guilty of is being gullible enough to have trusted Dante.” She shot him another resentful glare before once again looking at Deveril. “I believe I should prefer, as has been suggested by the Duke of Stonewell, if you were to take over proving my innocence, my lord.”
Dante rose abruptly to his feet. “You may prefer all you please, Bella, but I am the one who shall prove you innocent or guilty.”
“You have already found me guilty without so much as a shred of evidence to confirm that belief,” she returned heatedly.
“If you were not such a hotheaded little minx who is shortly to have her bottom soundly spanked—”
“You will not dare to lay a hand on me—”
“Now, now, children,” Deveril drawled, dark eyes dancing with humor at their behavior. “Personally, I think all this will look clearer in the morning. For myself, I have had a long day and would like to go to my bed,” he continued unabashed in the face of Dante’s glare in his direction. “Might I suggest the two of you do the same?”
Bella felt the warmth in her cheeks at the openly curious glance Deveril gave Dante. Nor could she or Dante deny the speculation in the marquis’s dark eyes. She had pleasured Dante in his carriage earlier. The two of them had shared a bed and lovemaking the previous night.
That would not be the case again tonight. “I concur, my lord.” She stood up. “I will wish you both a good night.” She did not so much as spare Dante a second glance as she swept from the room and ascended the stairs.
Dante waited until Bella had turned at the top of the staircase and disappeared down the hallway before muttering, “Little witch.”
Devil chuckled softly. “One who seems to have bewitched you, my friend.”
As she had bewitched Mr. Rogers the previous night.
Dante did not even bother attempting to deny there was a sexual tension between himself and Bella. How could he when it was so palpable, Devil must be able to hear it in every word they spoke to each other. “She is utterly infuriating.”
“No more so than you are.” Bella’s words floated softly down the stairs.
Dante drew in a deep, controlling breath. “Listeners never hear any good of themselves.”
“Nor do pigheaded inebriates.”
Dante ignored Devil’s snort of laughter to answer Bella. “You are responsible for my having turned to drink.”
“I did not force the brandy down your throat.”
“Go to your bedchamber,” Dante snapped his exasperation.
“Yes, Father.”
He scowled at the taunt. “I will be coming upstairs shortly to administer your punishment, as I promised I would if you ran away and put me to the trouble of following you.”
“You can try,” was followed by the sound of a door firmly closing.