Benedict's Challenge (Regency Club Venus 3) Read online

  The younger man raised mocking brows. “We hear things on the streets, and it was several hours’ drive from Surrey to London. We had to talk about something. And if it is such an inappropriate place, perhaps you ought not to be entering that establishment either,” he drawled.

  “I am physician to the ladies there, not a paying customer,” Benedict defended.

  He felt the heat rising in his cheeks as he thought of some of the duties he carried out on Gabriel’s behalf in regard to the ladies wishing to take up residence at Club Venus. Gabriel refused to allow a woman to live and work there if she did not enjoy and respond to physical pleasure. To date, it had been part of Benedict’s medical examination to ascertain the level of that response. Not in any sort of lascivious way on his part, but he could see that any woman in his own life—such as Chloe?—would find those sexual examinations objectionable.

  “Then perhaps it is time you passed that task on to someone else?” Julius suggested with a pointed glance in Chloe’s direction.

  “Perhaps it is,” Benedict agreed between gritted teeth. “Now, could we get back to my original objection to Chloe so much as stepping foot in that establishment?”

  “Do not hate me, old friend, but I have to agree with James and Chloe’s assessment of the situation.” Julius grimaced. “I know there are narrow walkways between the walls of most of the public and private rooms, built that way deliberately so that someone might hear and observe what is taking place inside those rooms. Gordon will be totally taken by surprise at seeing Chloe inside Club Venus, and if she can get him into one of the private salons, he is unlikely to watch his words once he believes them to be alone.”

  “He will accuse us of entrapment.”

  “No doubt,” Julius confirmed, unabashed. “And to ensure Gordon stays entrapped, I will ask the solicitor of Chloe’s parents, a man with whom my investigations mean I am already acquainted, if he would agree to come to Club Venus tonight. Once I have explained the situation to him fully, and purely as a representative of the law and an independent witness of Gordon’s lies and deceit, of course. That knowledge alone should prevent Lord Gordon being able to insist on Miss Gordon immediately being returned to his guardianship.”

  “He can insist all he pleases, but it will not happen,” Benedict assured harshly.

  Julius had revealed that his investigation had shown, while his men continued to search for Chloe, Lord Gordon had resumed his own nightly visits to Club Venus.

  Armed with this knowledge, Jimmy had suggested that rather than them all descending on Gordon House, where Lord Gordon’s household staff would no doubt deny all knowledge of Chloe’s presence there, that instead Chloe confront and so disarm her step-uncle in the last place he would think to find her.

  Club Venus.

  Coming from anyone else, involving any other woman, Benedict knew he would not have objected quite so strongly, that the plan was sound. But even the thought of Chloe entering such an establishment was abhorrent to him.

  If he felt that way, then perhaps it was, as Julius suggested, time for Benedict to sever his own professional connection to the club.

  But not today.

  If Chloe intended to put herself in danger—and she was being surprisingly stubborn on the matter—by confronting Lord Gordon at Club Venus, then Benedict had every intention of being there too.

  Did that mean he had accepted the plan?

  Did he really have a choice, when Chloe herself was so determined to see it through?

  “I do not understand what was wrong with the gown you arrived here in.”

  Chloe and Benedict were alone in a room off the main salons of Club Venus, with Chloe now valiantly trying to repress the laughter wanting to bubble free at the disgruntled expression on Benedict’s face as he glared his disapproval of her appearance.

  Because, once at Club Venus—a large and garishly furnished establishment with three main rooms and a dozen private salons downstairs, the ladies’ own bedchambers up on the second floor—several of those ladies had taken Chloe away to change her appearance so that she looked the part.

  In one of the rooms upstairs, they had applied powder and rouge to her cheeks. There was also a ruby-red pigment on her lips such as Chloe had previously only seen on actresses upon the stage, and yes, prostitutes walking the streets.

  Her hair had been loosened from its fashionable style and now had several long and curling lengths brushing her back and shoulders left bare by the gown the ladies had chosen for her. A gown they considered to be more suited to their surroundings.

  More suitable to the ladies, that is.

  Benedict appeared to be scandalized by not only the color of the gown—a bright red to match the pigment applied to her lips—but also a neckline so wide and low, it left her shoulders bare and the tops of Chloe’s nipples visible. To shock him even further, the ladies had applied rouge there too.

  Chloe gave Benedict a calming smile. “The gown I arrived in was more suitable for a respectable young lady of Society.”

  “That’s because you are a respectable young lady of Society!”

  “I cannot be that tonight,” she soothed. “This evening, my step-uncle must believe that I have become one of Club Venus’s ladies. It will alarm him as much as incense him not only to see me here, but to know that I am now free to speak with whomever I wish and on whatever subject I want. We came here to encourage him into confessing his sins, Benedict, not only of his treatment of me, but also to having ignored my parents’ last wishes when he claimed I am dead,” she reminded gently as he continued to look unconvinced.

  His nostrils flared. “I shall remain close all evening, in case you have need of my assistance.”

  Chloe touched his arm lightly. “Would that not cause Lord Gordon to think this might be a trap?”

  Benedict stepped close enough to take her in his arms, his eyes having become so dark, they appeared like twin pieces of glittering obsidian. “I apologize for my language in advance, darling Chloe—but the truth is, I do not now, nor shall I ever, give a fuck what Lord Gordon does or does not think!” His mouth came crashing down onto hers.

  Perhaps it was their surroundings, or possibly the gown she now wore, but Chloe felt emboldened to return the passion and demand of that kiss.

  Her arms moved up about his neck, her fingers, bare of gloves, becoming entangled in the dark hair at his nape as her lips parted beneath the onslaught of his.

  Breathing became labored as tongues dueled and hands caressed, their bodies pressed so close together, Chloe could feel the long length of Benedict’s aroused cock pressing against her abdomen.

  She moved experimentally, rubbing herself against that hardened flesh, and had the satisfaction of hearing Benedict give a guttural groan. She—

  “Gordon has just arrived— Oh dear, I apologize for interrupting,” Julius Soames dismissed briskly as they quickly ended the kiss. “But our quarry has just arrived and is circulating the main salon looking for a lady to dally with,” he added when Chloe and Benedict reluctantly broke apart and turned to look at him. “We need for him to see Miss Gordon and be incensed by her presence here before he settles his sights on one of the other women and disappears for the evening into one of the private salons with her.”

  The thought of any of the ladies, who had been so kind to Chloe earlier, having to suffer the grossness that was her pseudo guardian caused the bile to rise in the back of her throat.

  “I think,” Julius Soames tilted his head as he studied them, “that the two of you should leave this room together and exactly as you are now.”

  “As we are?” Benedict rasped.

  His friend smiled slightly. “You have a smudging of red lip rouge on and around your own lips—leave it there,” he cautioned as Benedict instinctively lifted a hand to remove it. “It complements the way in which Miss Gordon is suitably flushed and her lips are almost bare of that same color rouge. Voilà, the two of you have been in here kissing, at the very least.”<
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  Which was exactly what they had been doing, Chloe acknowledged with a shy lowering of her lashes. “I agree with Lord Soames. We should stay exactly as we are.”

  “Go one step further, in fact.” The earl obviously felt encouraged to add, “The two of you should leave this room, arms about each other and looking as if you had just indulged in sexual release and still have eyes for no one else.”

  Benedict still wished to refuse to allow any of this to take place, most especially exposing Chloe to a house such as Club Venus. But he also accepted it was the quickest and most effective way of exposing Henry Gordon while at the same time ensuring, with the presence of Chloe’s family solicitor, that she could not be forced, even for an hour, into returning to being a prisoner in Lord Gordon’s home.

  He drew in a deep and controlling breath. “Very well. But if that bastard tries to hurt her—”

  “I will be the one to step forward and distract him,” Julius assured firmly. “You, my friend, must get a grip on your temper and maintain it.”

  Benedict knew that. He just didn’t know if that would be possible if Gordon said or did anything to hurt Chloe. Anything more to hurt her, because God knows the man had abused her in every manner possible except a sexual one. Hell, if Gordon had ever touched Chloe in that way, Benedict would have to—

  “All will be well, Benedict.” She now stood on tiptoe and placed what felt far too much like a platonic kiss on Benedict’s tightly clenched jaw. “We will do as the earl suggests and wait to see what happens.”

  Benedict’s thumb and finger took a tight grip on Chloe’s chin, and he tilted her face up toward his. “When this is over, you and I will be having a private conversation.”

  She eyed him quizzically. “About?”

  “What comes next,” he replied enigmatically before turning to the earl as he still stood just inside the room. “Let’s get this over with,” he bit out.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chloe knew the exact moment Lord Gordon saw and recognized her as she and Benedict entered one of the main salons. His eyes widened and then narrowed on the fact they had their arms about each other, as Julius Soames had suggested they should.

  Having ascertained where Lord Gordon was in the room, Chloe now kept him on the edge of her vision rather than looking at him directly.

  “We need to separate now,” she told Benedict softly as she allowed her arms to drop to her sides. “It will give Lord Gordon the opportunity to approach me.”

  Benedict’s jaw tightened. “I am still not happy about this. If anything should go wrong—”

  “I have every confidence you will not allow that to happen,” she assured, giving a loud and false laugh as she stepped determinedly away from him, as if he had just said something highly amusing. “You—”

  “Can’t say as I’ve ever seen you here before, Winter,” Lord Gordon spoke sharply. “I’ve always heard it said you preferred to give the ladies your…attentions behind the scenes rather than publicly,” he added scathingly.

  Chloe flinched at his implication, drawing her bottom lip in between her teeth to stop herself from speaking as she slowly watched Benedict turn, his gaze glacial as it swept over the older man.

  “Had you indeed?” The coldness of Benedict’s tone did not invite further comment on the subject.

  “Yes.” Lord Gordon did not back down in the slightest, his expression challenging.

  Neither did Benedict. “My interests here have previously only been of a medical nature. But Miss Brown is so delectable that for once, I found myself unable to resist.”

  “Miss Brown, is it?” the older man taunted with a contemptuous sweep of his gaze over Chloe’s gaudily clad body and the rouge and pigment upon her lips.

  “My, my, are you telling me there is a lady at Club Venus whom you have not bedded?” Benedict scorned. “She looks very like the maid that a week ago you claimed did not work in your household, don’t you agree?”

  Lord Gordon narrowed his gaze on him. “As that maid does not exist, I would not know what she looked like.” He reached out to take a painful grasp of Chloe’s arm. “If you will excuse us, Winter.” He didn’t so much as glance at him. “You have had your time with this—Miss Brown.”

  Chloe gave Benedict a glance that pleaded for not only his silence but also his restraint. She breathed a sigh of relief when, hands clenched at his sides, he heeded it. The nerve pulsing in his jaw and the vein throbbing at his temple said he found it far from easy to stand and watch as Lord Gordon dragged her along behind him to the hallway where the private rooms were situated.

  “All will be well, old friend.”

  Benedict’s gaze remained fixed on Chloe’s departing figure as Julius Soames stepped up to stand beside him. “There is a danger murder might be committed before this night is over, with Gordon as the victim.”

  Julius placed a placating hand on his arm for several seconds. “James is with the solicitor inside the wall space, which will allow them to locate whichever room Gordon takes your Chloe to, and then they can listen in. As soon as Gordon has incriminated himself, we will see to having him arrested.”

  “What if he does not do that until after he has hurt Chloe?” Benedict muttered bleakly. “And she is not my Chloe.”

  “Oh, I believe she is, as you are hers,” Julius drawled. “Both of you just need to be patient for a few more minutes and then, hopefully, all this will be over.”

  He scowled darkly. “It is the ‘hopefully’ part of that statement which concerns me the most.”

  “It will be over, Benedict,” Julius repeated firmly. “And in the manner we wish it to be. In the meantime—”

  “In the meantime, I intend to join the solicitor and James and listen in on the conversation.” Benedict strode off without giving his friend a second glance.

  Chloe would be lying if she claimed not to be concerned by the anger emanating from Lord Gordon, along with the violence that might result from that anger. Especially once they were alone.

  But she also had confidence in Benedict and his friends to step in and save her if it became necessary. As it might very well do if the vicious glitter in Lord Gordon’s eyes was any indication once they were alone in one of the private rooms.

  Except they were not really alone. Chloe had been shown the walk space behind the wall, knew that there were peepholes too so that anyone in the space could look in as well as hear the conversation within the room. The space had originally been incorporated into the structure of the building during a much earlier century than this one, but it now served the purpose of protecting the women who chose to work here.

  “Lord Winter, hm?” Lord Gordon taunted.

  “Is that his name?” she mused. “He did not reveal it during our…liaison.”

  Lord Gordon’s top lip curled back as his gaze swept over her with complete contempt. “If I had known of your…proclivities, I would have put you to work in a brothel myself. As it is, you not only now seem to have found your proper place in the world, but you also look like the slut that you are. Like the slut your mother was,” he added harshly. “She would open her legs for any man who smiled at her too,” he sneered.

  Chloe’s hands clenched so tightly that her fingernails dug into her palms. She willed herself not to respond as she wished to and slap this man’s bloated and overindulged face. “I somehow doubt that. But the important thing,” she continued as he would have spoken, “is that she did not smile nor open her legs for you. Now I believe you said you had something you wished to talk to me about?”

  That vein at his temple throbbed more noticeably. “Do not take that defiant tone with me, young lady, or I will give you cause to regret it.”

  “By administering another one of your beatings for some imagined misdemeanor?”

  He nodded sharply. “One such as you have not yet known. I do not appreciate you having necessitated me chasing over half the city searching for you, only to find you here, of all places.”

  �
��You did not do this chasing personally, it would seem,” she drawled.

  He huffed out an irritated breath. “I have better things to do with my time than waste it looking for ungrateful young chits who do not know when they are well off.”

  “Well off!” Chloe repeated incredulously. “You kept me locked away in a room in the attic, with barely enough food to sustain me. You would beat me without provocation and then beat me again whenever you decided I had erred in some way. I could not rise from my bed for a week the last time you whipped me.”

  He snorted. “You do not seem to have suffered any lasting ill effects.”

  Chloe shook her head. “I do not understand why it is you seem to dislike me so much when all I have asked is that you treat me like the step-niece I am to you.”

  His nostrils flared. “You are also Niamh’s daughter, born during her marriage to my stepbrother.”

  She eyed him curiously. “Why do you hate them so much?”

  “I hated her,” he corrected harshly. “My stepbrother was merely another besotted fool who fell under her Irish spell. You are her twin in looks.”

  “If you felt this way, why did you not let my Aunt and Uncle Bayliss take custody of me two years ago?”

  “I have already told you it was their choice. Not only do they hold you responsible for your parents’ deaths, but they did not want a penniless orphan living in their home and eating their food either.”

  Chloe drew in a sharp breath at what she now knew to be this bitter man’s deliberate cruelty. Her aunt and uncle did not hate her, nor was she penniless. Her inheritance was something else this man had deprived her of.

  “Did you always hate my mother?” she probed.

  She was certain that her parents’ solicitor had already heard enough to know of the deceit practiced upon him by Lord Gordon in regard not only to her still being alive, but the cruelty with which she had been treated by her so-called guardian in the two years since.