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

  Chloe eyed him curiously. “And what is your place?”

  He turned away to once again fork the straw through the door of the stall in the middle of the six he was obviously working on. “Manual laborer will do.”

  “I doubt that very much.”

  Chloe and Jimmy both turned sharply at the sound of Benedict’s voice. Chloe could not speak for Jimmy, but her own gaze was hungry for the sight of Benedict after the past two days of keeping to her bedchamber.

  After the intimacies they had shared, and then the awkwardness over dinner that evening, Chloe had believed it was for the best if she made herself as inconspicuous as possible by remaining in her bedchamber. There was also the fact that Benedict had warned her he would want more answers from her very soon, but, she had reasoned, if she was not present, then he could not ask her those questions.

  But after two days confined to her bedchamber, Chloe was now so bored with her own company, she had decided to take a walk about the estate so that she could breathe in some of the fresh country air. The last thing she expected was to step around to the back of the house and immediately spot Jimmy working in the stable yard.

  She doubted Benedict was happy with his patient’s blatant disregard for his instruction, Jimmy having been told to refrain from using his arms as much as possible.

  Benedict was probably just as irritated by her deliberate avoidance of his company these past two days. But it was through embarrassment, mainly. She could only guess at what Benedict now thought of her after she had behaved the wanton in his arms the evening of their arrival here.

  The scowl on Benedict’s face encompassed both of them as a reflection of his disapproval. “I hope you have not come out here with the intention of riding.” He pinned his gaze on Chloe.

  Her smile was rueful. “I doubt I am well enough to sit in a saddle as yet.”

  “But you do ride?”

  “Not for some time, but yes.”

  Benedict wondered if that length of time coincided with when she had gone to live with Henry Gordon. “I do not believe either of you is well enough to be engaging in your current pursuit.” His gaze included the younger man.

  A ruddy hue colored Jimmy’s cheeks. “I believe we have already discussed that matter in regard to myself.”

  Benedict’s nostrils flared. “There is every possibility that the bruising to your arms will take much longer to heal the way you are swinging that pitchfork about. But no doubt you are in enough pain for me not to need to tell you that.” He turned his dark gaze upon Chloe. “You should have waited for my permission before venturing out and about.”

  “Your permission?” Chloe echoed incredulously. “I do not need anyone’s permission to take a walk.”

  Benedict had deliberately used that word to provoke this response from her. He was very angry with Chloe right now for having avoided his company these past two days. Truth be told, he had missed her company.

  Beneath the warmth of her cloak, Chloe was wearing another of the gowns Benedict had purchased for her in London, and which the seamstress already had made up and could alter to fit Chloe’s slender figure. The deep green silk perfectly complemented her ivory complexion.

  Yes, Chloe appeared beautiful today, if no less fragile.

  Fragile or otherwise, Benedict’s cock had instantly hardened in arousal the moment he looked down upon her from Beatrix’s rooms. An arousal which now seemed to be his cock’s usual reaction to Benedict’s having merely looked at Chloe.

  “I believe you do,” he once again deliberately provoked her. “As physician to both of you, you should have waited for my approval before thinking of endangering your health for a second time by engaging in unsuitable pursuits.”

  “You—”

  “I believe His Lordship’s intention right now is to annoy both of us,” Jimmy drawled knowingly.

  “Then, in my case, he is succeeding!” she snapped.

  Jimmy chuckled. “By all means, annoy me all you please,” he told Benedict. “But Chloe obviously has little or none of the social sophistication necessary to retaliate.”

  She frowned at him. “If that insult was your best effort in defending me, then I advise you not to attempt it a second time!”

  Jimmy raised his eyes heavenward before his attention sharpened on the top of the house. “Who was that?”

  Benedict’s chest tightened. “Who was who?”

  Jimmy continued to stare up at the house. “I saw a woman in one of the windows of the east wing.”

  “What do you mean, you saw her?” Benedict prompted, sincerely hoping it was the past tense.

  The woman in the window could be none other than Beatrix, no doubt still interested in the newcomers to the estate. But she would not welcome either Jimmy or Chloe becoming curious about her presence.

  Jimmy nodded. “She’s gone now.” But he continued to stare up at the window as if waiting for the woman to reappear.

  Benedict was certain Beatrix would not do that. Not willingly, at least.

  “It was probably one of the maids cleaning,” he dismissed, deliberately not turning to look toward the house himself. “The wings of the house are unoccupied, but I like to keep them free of dust and the possibility of an invasion of rodents.”

  Chloe gave a shiver at the mention of the latter.

  Jimmy still looked less than convinced at that explanation. “The lady I saw did not look in the least like a maid.”

  Benedict arched arrogant brows. “Oh, and what does a maid look like?”

  The younger man glared his frustration. “Unlike the elegantly dressed and coiffured lady I saw in that window,” he maintained stubbornly.

  Benedict did now turn toward the house. He could almost—almost—imagine the twitch of a curtain as Beatrix stood behind it, allowing her to see but not be seen. He turned back to Jimmy. “I doubt you could see a lady’s elegance of dress and hair from this distance.”

  “You—”

  “If you gentlemen will excuse me? I believe I shall continue with my walk.” Chloe had, quite frankly, listened to enough of this toing and froing between the two men which, to her, sounded like nothing more than two male egos vying with each other.

  Benedict, quite rightly, in Chloe’s opinion, was obviously cross with Jimmy for doing manual labor when his arms were still bruised, and Jimmy obviously did not care for the other man’s high-handed attitude. Even if Benedict’s concern was genuine.

  “By all means, you have my permission to continue with your walk.” Benedict arched one arrogant brow as Chloe narrowed her gaze on him. “But I expect you both to join me for dinner this evening. Suitably dressed,” Benedict added to Jimmy.

  “But—”

  “You—”

  “Do not argue with me—either of you.” He gave them both a sweeping and challenging glare. “You are staying here as my guests, but have chosen not to dine with me these past two days. That stops now.”

  The younger man gave a mocking smile. “If you’re that desperate for our company…”

  “I would not have used the word desperate,” Benedict drawled.

  “Sounded like desperation to me,” Jimmy taunted. “But as ya arsked sa nicely,” he added in a broad Cockney accent.

  “Chloe?”

  She had been so focused on the conversation between the two men, she was taken by surprise when Benedict’s focus turned to her. One glance at his glittering dark eyes was enough to warn her against arguing with him on the subject.

  She forced a falsely bright smile. “What woman could possibly wish to refuse the opportunity to dine with two such handsome gentlemen!”

  At least Jimmy’s presence would ensure Benedict did not ask her any more awkward questions she would rather not answer.

  She could have no idea how wrong she was to believe that.

  Chapter Eight

  The three of them had barely been served their dessert that evening, after a fraught hour or so of stilted conversation, before Benedict began his
interrogation.

  “So, James,” he bit out. “What is your connection to the Earl of Ipswich?”

  Chloe watched as Jimmy’s face paled, whether at being called the formal name of James or the mention of a possible connection between Jimmy and the Earl of Ipswich, she couldn’t say.

  Benedict turned to her. “While James gathers himself enough to manufacture a suitable reply, perhaps you would like to take the same amount of time to think of what your answer is going to be when I ask for the details as to why your guardian, Lord Gordon, when asked a little over a week ago, felt the need to deny all knowledge of your very existence.”

  Chloe’s nerves had been jittery since their conversation at the stables. As a consequence she’d had little appetite before she came downstairs and had barely eaten any of the soup course and only picked at the roasted lamb and vegetables that followed. Now even the mention of that tyrant Lord Gordon was enough to sour what little she had in her stomach.

  She carefully placed her dessert spoon down beside her untouched pudding, knowing that if she didn’t, it was likely to slip from her shaking fingers and make a mess of the table.

  “You utter bastard!” Jimmy scowled at the older man. “Guardian or not, you saw what Gordon did to her.”

  To Chloe’s mortification, that statement revealed that Jimmy obviously knew about the inflicted stripes on her bottom and thighs too.

  “He was in the infirmary when I carried you inside,” Benedict explained when she gave him an accusatory glance.

  To Chloe’s mind, that still didn’t explain why Jimmy should have intimate knowledge of the extent of her injuries. “And are you in the habit of undressing—cutting the clothes off,” she amended as she recalled that was what he had done, “your female patients in front of an audience?”

  “No, of course I am not—”

  “All evidence to the contrary!”

  Jimmy winced. “He meant nothing by it. I happened to be there, he was in need of assistance, and—”

  “You are merely making the situation worse, James,” Benedict tersely silenced the other man. “I am more interested in knowing why Gordon did that to you than what transpired before my discovery of it,” he demanded without apology.

  Chloe snorted. “I wonder if you would feel the same way about it if you were the one whose body had been exposed to strangers.”

  “He was very careful not to reveal so much as an inch of you to me,” the younger man defended.

  “Leave it, James.” Benedict’s gaze remained fixed on Chloe. “Chloe is merely trying to divert attention from my original question as to why Lord Gordon whipped her.”

  She tensed. “I do not recall saying he whipped me.”

  His Lordship shrugged. “It is obvious from your injuries that is what happened.”

  “And you want to know why?” Chloe scorned, eyes glittering challengingly at his persistence. “It was because of you. Because I was caught by my jailer, Lord Gordon’s housekeeper, staring down at you from the gallery when I should have been locked in my room.” She lifted her chin as her voice broke emotionally. “But also because, during your visit, you obviously revealed to Lord Gordon in some way that you had seen me there too.”

  Benedict flinched at the accusation. “He beat you that same day because I questioned him about you?” he repeated softly.

  Chloe realized from the dangerous glitter in Benedict’s eyes that she had, perhaps, gone too far. Not that her words weren’t the truth, because they were, but she might have been better keeping that knowledge to herself.

  “Chloe?”

  “Yes.” The tears now gathered in her eyes blurred her vision and prevented her from seeing either man. Which was perhaps as well; she would break down completely if she saw pity in either of their expressions. “And he made it very clear before he started how he intended to make me regret having allowed you to see me.”

  Benedict had speculated as to whether this might be the case, but to have that suspicion confirmed now filled him with a barely contained fury.

  “By the time he finished, I had indeed told him that I did regret it,” Chloe admitted flatly. She looked at Benedict before adding, “But it was not true.” She pushed her chair noisily back from the table as she stood.

  “Why—”

  “I have done as you instructed and sat down to dinner with the two of you,” she stated firmly. “Now if you will both excuse me, I will return to the privacy of my bedchamber.”

  “I still wish for you to join me for dinner every evening.” He glanced at Jimmy. “Both of you.”

  “Maybe,” Jimmy accepted grudgingly. “Whether I remain at the table or not will depend on how many more questions you want answered.”

  “Chloe?”

  She stared at him wordlessly for several long seconds before nodding abruptly. “Very well. But with the same proviso as Jimmy.” She hurried from the room before Benedict could argue with her on the subject.

  “Leave her be,” Jimmy cautioned as Benedict would have followed her. “Could you have been any more of an unfeeling bastard?” he accused.

  Benedict flinched at being called that twice in as many minutes. “I cannot help Chloe if she does not tell me the truth.”

  “But by being so fucking remorseless about it, her pride is now as wounded and raw as her flesh.”

  Benedict felt his cheeks warm at the truth of the younger man’s accusation. He had been remorseless. But not because of any deliberate intent of cruelty on Benedict’s part. He needed to know what Gordon had done to her, because one day, he intended to make it his mission in life to repay every one of the blows dealt to Chloe by Lord Gordon. Her confirmation that Benedict was the reason for that last beating now cut him to the bone.

  That day at Lord Gordon’s, Benedict had been so confident of his ability to trick the older man into revealing Chloe’s presence in the house during his medical examination, he hadn’t thought of the consequences there might be to her after he left.

  He had now seen with his own eyes exactly what that consequence had been.

  He rose abruptly to his feet, crossing the room to pour brandy from the decanter on the side dresser into two glasses before stepping back to hand one to Jimmy. “My first instinct is to go and apologize to Chloe, but my second is to tell you to let your lads loose on the bastard.”

  The younger man smiled. “The first I do not advise. The second, if you still feel the same way in the morning after sleeping on it, then I’ll happily oblige. As, I’m sure, will the lads.” His expression sharpened. “Now, if you want to continue in the same vein and annoy your other guest, then you could always return to the subject of your earlier questioning of me.” His gaze challenged Benedict to do so.

  He gave the ghost of a smile. “I think not.” Whatever Jimmy’s secret was, it would seem he had kept it for many years. It could remain so a little longer.

  “Wise man,” Jimmy approved.

  In the meantime, Benedict intended to write to Julius Soames and ask if the earl could look deeper into the lives of Chloe and Jimmy, both past and present.

  Benedict knew that having Jimmy’s friends beat Lord Gordon to a pulp would only be a temporary measure, and he needed something, anything that Julius could glean for him that would result in his being able to remove Chloe permanently from Gordon’s house.

  Once Jimmy had gone off to his bed, Benedict lingered in the dining room to finish drinking his brandy, as he was still bombarded by a need to go to Chloe’s bedchamber and apologize to her for being the reason Lord Gordon had taken a whip to her. He thought long and hard on the subject, knowing it was a need he felt to salve his own conscience.

  But by doing so, would he only succeed in adding to Chloe’s humiliation?

  Once upstairs in his bedchamber, Benedict’s thoughts continued to fall over themselves naming the pros and cons of going to Chloe’s bedchamber.

  To distract himself, he wrote his letter to Julius Soames, ready to be relayed to the other man i
n London the following morning. He made special mention of Jimmy’s response to the Earl of Ipswich’s name, and Chloe having mentioned that Henry Gordon was her father’s half brother. Benedict had never heard of Gordon having a half brother, but that did not mean the relationship had not existed.

  Even if Benedict’s preference, for Chloe’s sake, was that it did not.

  The letter written, Benedict deliberately kept his mind blank as he changed into his nightshirt before climbing into bed and blowing out the candle. But it was impossible for him to fall asleep, his mind once again racing with the memory of how much he had upset Chloe earlier. After only a few minutes of tossing and turning beneath the cover, Benedict rose again and began to pace his bedchamber.

  He knew instinctively that, because their earlier conversation had once again brought her whipping to the forefront, Chloe was in all likelihood doing the same.

  It ravaged Benedict inside and out, causing the food to churn from the acidity in his stomach, to know he was the reason Chloe had been beaten by Lord Gordon.

  Not only was Benedict’s arrogance to blame for the incident occurring, but this evening, he had forced that truth out of Chloe without a single thought to the pain it might reawaken within her, emotional as well as physical.

  Jimmy was right. He was a bastard. Not only that, but he was a selfish and unthinking one.

  Benedict owed Chloe his apology. On his knees, if necessary.

  He owed her so much more than that, but offering her his sincere apology would be a start.

  Now?

  There would be no rest for Benedict until he had made that apology, and he believed the same to be true of Chloe.

  Was he behaving selfishly again to even be thinking of going to Chloe’s bedchamber? Putting his own need to tell Chloe how sorry he was ahead of her desire for the time and privacy to deal with her own feelings on the matter?

  Benedict had to apologize, and it had to be done now if he was ever to find any peace, and hopefully comfort Chloe at the same time.

  Chapter Nine