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    One Forbidden Night: Tales From Seldon Park, #14
    One Forbidden Night: Tales From Seldon Park, #14
    One Forbidden Night: Tales From Seldon Park, #14
    Ebook386 pages7 hours

    One Forbidden Night: Tales From Seldon Park, #14

    By Bethany M. Sefchick

    3.5/5

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    About this ebook

    American-born and raised around the world, Lady Pearl Weston is miserable in England.  Though she is English by blood, she was born and raised in Baltimore, Maryland.  When her brother became the latest Marquess of Lansdale, she was compelled to follow him to London and begin life anew.  The only problem is, she is far from being as easily accepted by the ton as he is and is relegated to the very fringes of polite Society.  Labeled a hoyden and harlot, she wishes for nothing more than to escape restrictive English society.

    That is until the night she receives an unexpected midnight visitor and her entire world is suddenly upended by a single kiss.

    The bastard son of a peer and a maid, Jacob Beeston is known as the "Barrister to the Peerage."  Well respected by everyone, he has had eyes only for Lady Pearl since she first came to England with her brother the previous year, no matter how far above his touch she might be.  However, Jacob knows his place in Pearl's world, and it is not in her bed - much as he might wish otherwise.  Still, circumstances have a way of drawing the two of them together repeatedly until one lonely night, he can no longer resist the temptation she poses and gives in to his overwhelming desire to kiss her.

    Will Pearl and Jacob find a way to break free of what is expected or are they destined to keep to the roles that Society has defined for them?  Even if those roles never even come close to who they both truly are at heart?

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherBethany M. Sefchick
    Release dateNov 15, 2017
    ISBN9781386109433
    One Forbidden Night: Tales From Seldon Park, #14
    Author

    Bethany M. Sefchick

    Making her home in the mountains of central Pennsylvania, Bethany Sefchick lives with her husband, Ed, and a plethora of Betta fish that she’s constantly finding new ways to entertain. In addition to writing, Bethany owns a jewelry company, Easily Distracted Designs. It should be noted that the owner of the titular Selon Park - one Lord Nicholas Rosemont, the Duke of Candlewood, a.k.a. "The Bloody Duke" - first appeared in her mind when she was eighteen years old and had no idea what to make of him, or of his slightly snarky smile.  She has been attempting to dislodge him ever since - with absolutely no success. When not penning romance novels or creating sparkly treasures, she enjoys cooking, scrapbooking, and lavishing attention on any stray cats who happen to be hanging around. She always enjoys hearing from her fans at: bsefchickauthor@gmail.com

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      One Forbidden Night - Bethany M. Sefchick

      Prologue

      March 1820

      London

      Is there really much call for me to have a barrister on retainer?  Honestly?  After all, such things were simply not done back in Baltimore.

      Jacob met the dark gaze of the man sitting across the desk from him with what he hoped was unflinching eyes.  This man might be just off the ship from America and far more raw in many ways than any village blacksmith, but as the newly named Marquess of Lansdale, Daniel Weston was still Jacob’s social superior.  Even if the man was currently behaving more like a loutish, drunken sailor than a respected peer of the Realm.

      I do not anticipate that you will need my services, no, my lord.  Jacob had taken this meeting against his better judgment, but when The Bloody Duke asked something of someone, it was very difficult to say no.  Actually, make that impossible.  However, England, and in particular London, is not Baltimore.  Our laws are different in some respects, and, at the very least, property disputes among the peerage are not uncommon.  Given that your Montclef estate has been unoccupied for quite some time, I would not be surprised to find that at least some of your neighbors have helped themselves to portions of your land.

      Lansdale seemed to think this bit of information over for a moment, glaring a bit as he did so.  Well, the newly minted marquess could take all of the time he liked.  Jacob wasn’t going anywhere at the moment.

      The reality was, Jacob didn’t need any more clients.  At present, he represented close to thirty of the most wealthy and titled members of the peerage.  Though to be fair, he did not often need to go to court to represent the clients he did have.  Such was the life of the so-called Barrister to the Peerage, he supposed, for it wasn’t often that peers required representation in court.  In general, people of that social class were typically above the law.  More often, it was the people of Jacob’s class that suffered when a law was broken, no matter who was at fault.

      However both Lord Radcliffe (who was an old family friend) and Lord Candlewood (the previously mentioned Bloody Duke) had requested that Jacob meet with the new Lord Lansdale as a personal favor to them.  When two dukes asked a favor of one such as Jacob, a man in Jacob’s position did not generally object.  Especially as those two men were more like brothers to Jacob than employers.  And even though the man now seated across from him was acting like an ass at the moment, there was still something inherently likable about Lord Daniel Weston as well.   So Jacob didn’t truly mind.

      Well, he didn’t mind much, save for the presence of the new marquess’ sister, Pearl.  Or Lady Pearl as she was called now, Jacob supposed.

      To be more specific, Jacob minded her presence in his office, located on a relatively quiet little side street in St. James, very much.  Very, very much, in fact.  Jacob minded the way she looked at him with that unwavering dark gaze – so very much like her brother’s – as if she could peer into Jacob’s very soul and unmask his secrets.  Know his heart and his head before he could so much as blink.  He objected to the way she seemed to bring heat into the room with her and the way his gaze seemed to follow her every movement, whether he wanted it to do so or not.  More than anything, Jacob minded his unruly body's rather overzealous reaction to her. 

      Lord, the chit unnerved him with those deep, luminous brown eyes of hers, along with that lovely, curvy body that was enough to make a grown man go down on his knees simply to beg a favor from her.  Any favor at all, though favors of a sexual nature were foremost in his mind at present.  Lord above, Jacob was becoming hard just sitting across his office desk from her.  Heaven help him if he needed to rise anytime soon.  He would embarrass himself - and likely her as well.

      Jacob considered himself a practical man.  He did not believe in foolish things such as love at first sight.  Lust at first sight, however?  Well, yes, he did suppose he believed in that.

      Lady Pearl would be his undoing if he allowed her to be.  Lusting after a woman he could not have would come to no good end for a man like him.  It was madness.  He needed to remember that and press on with the business at hand.

      After a roughly cleared throat, Jacob had the impression that the marquess felt the same – though certainly for very different reasons.

      So why am I here then?  Couldn’t this meeting have taken place in my study back at Lansdale House?  Preferably later in the afternoon?  The marquess yawned and Jacob could tell the man was bored out of his skull.  Or perhaps still a touch foxed from the night before.  Very well.  Maybe more than a touch.  The man smelled as if he had bathed in cheap brandy.

      Because trouble follows this family like fleas follow a hound.  Pearl’s voice was both strong and melodious at the same time, an abrupt change from the refined, soft, and polite English tones that Jacob was accustomed to hearing.  There was a brassiness to her voice that the women he knew did not possess, as well as a slight clipping of her vowels on certain words.  Her voice was a bit harder in tone than he was accustomed to, and yet, beneath it all, there was a faint hint of all things proper and English as well.

      Lady Pearl was also most certainly not foxed.  She was also obviously more than a little annoyed with her still-inebriated brother.

      Jacob found Pearl’s manner of speaking rather charming, though he knew he was likely in the minority with that opinion.  Not that his opinion mattered one whit anyway.

      Yes, well, we are going to behave like proper English gentlemen for the time being, so there’s nothing to worry about on that front, Pea.  Daniel graced both Jacob and Pearl with a dazzling smile and from that moment on, Jacob knew this man would either be the darling or the scoundrel of the ton in the upcoming Season.  Most likely the darling, based on his handsome visage and slightly rogueish ways.  The ladies liked that in a gentleman, especially if the gentleman was rich.  And Lord Weston was extremely plump in the pockets.

      He was also titled.  That didn’t hurt his chances on the Marriage Mart either.

      "But I am not an English gentleman," Pearl snipped, her tone delightfully crisp and yet slightly acidic at the same time.  Sadly, Jacob decided as he sat there regarding her thoughtfully, it wasn’t likely that this fine woman would be treated the same as other women, even though she was now a titled lady.  The sister of a marquess.  She was, quite simply, too different.  Too brash and too outspoken.  Too American.  And given her reaction just now, she likely understood that reality as well as Jacob did.

      Yes, well you are my sister and you will behave properly!  You are a lady now, damn it!  You need to behave like one.  No more gallivanting about wherever you please and doing whatever you like!  That was fine back home but no longer, Lansdale snipped right back at her, finally sitting up a bit straighter in his chair.  He sounded so very English then and a great deal more annoyed than he had mere moments ago.  Instantly Jacob was on alert.  It would not do to have brother and sister spill each other’s blood in his office.

      He had a feeling that, if left to their own devices, these two could tear each other apart if they were so inclined, and perhaps had in the past.

      Sitting there in stony silence, Pearl’s eyes became so dark just then that they were almost black and Jacob could well imagine a gentleman becoming lost in them under different circumstances.  So lost that he would never find his way out.  Not him, of course, because he was not of her station in life, but some lucky bastard somewhere would have the pleasure.  Well, provided she did not murder anyone first, of course, for she was looking more than a little angry just then.  Not to mention extremely willing to do bodily harm to her brother if it came to that.

      You want me to be like the rest of them.  Like the ladies we met on the ship.  A featherbrain.  She said the word featherbrain with such icy anger that Jacob himself wanted to flinch even though he was not the object of her ire.  Woe to the man who crossed her, he thought.  Then again, with such depth of anger likely also came great depths of passion.

      Not that he should be thinking about that.  He was not smitten with her.  He simply would not allow himself to be.  But maybe he was smitten.  Just a little.

      Jacob also wanted to reach across his desk and pull her into his arms for a passionate kiss.  Which, of course, he shouldn’t even be thinking about doing either.  Jacob was not in the habit of wishing for things he could not have.  That included women like Pearl.  Especially women like Pearl.  Nothing good could ever come of it.

      So instead Jacob simply shifted his position to ease the pressure of his trousers against his swelling crotch and prayed that Lady Pearl did not notice his rapidly growing attraction for her.  Though given the keen intelligence he saw lurking in her eyes, he suspected that she likely already knew he found her attractive.  Hell, any man alive would likely find her attractive.

      Yes.  I thought we covered this already and at great lengths back home, Pea.  And on the ship over here.  And on the carriage ride from the coast to here in London.  And at all of the coaching inns along the way.  Her brother’s tone was just as clipped as hers was.  You cannot be yourself on these shores, Pearl.  At least not your true self.  We have discussed this time after time until we nearly spill blood.  If you show your true nature here, you will surely doom both of us and then where will we be?

      For a long moment, she didn’t reply.  Instead, she slowly ran the tip of her right index finger over a thin, white scar at the base of her neck.  Back and forth, she stroked that little patch of skin almost absently.  She probably didn’t even realize what she was doing.  Most people probably wouldn’t have even noticed the scar because it was so faint, but then, Jacob was paid well to notice things that others did not, so he had spotted the old injury almost right away.  He wondered how she came to have the scar but also recognized that he did not have the right to know and likely never would.

      But he could not think upon that now.  There were other matters at hand to be dealt with – such as preventing brother and sister from strangling each other in his office.

      You want me to lie, Danny.  There was obvious hurt in Pearl’s voice, but Jacob didn't think her brother could hear it.  He was still too foxed to process much, actually.

      Daniel Weston sighed wearily as if he was the most put upon man in all the world.  Of course, I want you to lie.  We certainly can’t tell them the truth of what you are!  We need everyone to think that you are meek and mild.  Timid, even, and certainly no one can know just how intelligent and capable you are.  That will never do at all, and you bloody well know it!  If you’re ever going to snare a husband, which we both know that you desperately need, you must always appear as if you need a man’s help to survive in this world.

      Jacob didn't think it was possible but suddenly, Pearl’s cold eyes grew even colder.  I thought that after Cairo, there was no question that I was quite capable of taking care of myself.

      Do not mention Cairo again, the marquess snarled, anger lacing his words.  That is done with.  This is your life now and while you see it as a gilded cage, it is the life that has been given to you.

      And if I fail to convince men that I am this meek creature without a brain in my head?  Then what?  Jacob could see that happening very easily, actually, though he decided against mentioning that to Lansdale.

      You won’t.  I know you, Pea, and I know you can do whatever you set your mind to.  Her brother waved away her concerns, though Jacob still believed they were valid ones.  The aristocracy was not so easy to fool as this man seemed to believe.  Let’s ask this good man what he thinks, shall we?  Sir?

      It was clear to Jacob that Lord Lansdale had forgotten his name.  However it was no surprise to him that Pearl had not forgotten and Jacob’s heart jumped stupidly when he heard his name on her lips.

      Mr. Beeston?  What do you think?  Should I be myself or should I allow everyone to believe that I am nothing more than empty fluff?  A featherbrain, as my brother says?  Lady Pearl looked at him with her sad, cold eyes and her heart-shaped face framed by raven black hair.

      She was beauty incarnate and in that moment, Jacob wanted to take her away from all of this, to sweep her into his arms and whisk her away to someplace where she could be whatever sort of woman she liked.  But that was nothing more than irrational folly and fantasy.  Just as it was folly to think that he could ever hope to have someone like her for his own.

      For a long moment, Jacob’s voice caught in his throat as he was unable to do anything more than stare at this vision before him.  He had been instantly besotted with her and he was five times a fool for it, but he could not help himself.  Women this lovely never spoke to him and if they did?  Well, they were usually ordering him about and not speaking his name as if his opinion truly mattered.

      Sitting before him, Pearl looked so heartbreakingly beautiful that Jacob didn’t quite know what to say.  He had a feeling that whatever response he chose would likely damn this magnificent creature in one way or another.  This was not like him.  He was always so calm and rational, the fairer sex never able to muddle his brain as they did to so many other men.  Yet this enchanting creature had his brain reduced to a bowl of porridge in a little over a quarter of an hour.  And she, wicked thing that she was, was forcing him to choose her fate.  And given the look in her eyes, she likely knew precisely what she was doing.

      Finally, Jacob found his voice, and his eyes remained fastened on Pearl as he spoke.  You, my lady, are unlike any other woman I have ever encountered.  I would only add that English society is extremely perceptive, despite how stupid and idiotic the lot of them might appear on the surface.  They use lies as weapons and seek to gain any bit of information they can so that it might be fashioned into a weapon designed to wound another.  Particularly the ladies.  Especially attractive, unwed ladies of some fortune that might be viewed as potential competition on the Marriage Mart.  Here, the game for all women is to snare a husband at all costs.  But I think you already know that.  So the question to me, it seems, is, how badly do you either wish or need to be leg-shackled to some gentleman?  That should be the question that guides your choice.

      Pearl inclined her head, her gaze never leaving his.  You are a wise man, Mr. Beeston, as well as an honest one.  Thank you.

      I cannot lie to you, my lady.  This is a harsh society that you are about to enter, and in many ways an unforgiving one as well.  Sadly, this is not America where missteps are more easily forgiven, or so I am told.  Eventually, Jacob was able to wrench his gaze back to Lord Lansdale, not that it seemed to matter much, for the man appeared to be dozing, his eyes mere slits.  My lord, you and your sister might be able to fool some people in the beginning, but eventually someone will discover the ruse.  And when they do?  Things will likely go badly for everyone, especially Miss Weston, as you are correct when you say she does not have the luxury of a title to protect her.  Only your name and the honor of being a lady through that family name.  I would urge caution in attempting to play this game.  If Lady Pearl gambles and loses, she risks her entire future as well.  You they cannot touch but her?  Society can and will destroy her if they as a whole set their mind to such a task.

      Jacob swallowed hard, afraid that he had said too much and that Lansdale would be furious with him.  However the man just sat there, partially slumped over with his eyes now mostly closed.  Go on, Pea.  The marquess twirled his fingers without bothering to open his eyes.  Show the good man what you can do.  He knows this world better than we do, I’ll wager.  Let him tell us if your act is good enough.

      Danny, please.  Do not make me do this.  Please.  Pearl did not beg her brother.  She was too proud for that.  Jacob could tell.  But she was beseeching in her request, though her pleas seemed to fall on deaf ears.

      Jacob hated to witness this magnificent creature reduced to such tactics, though he tamped down his anger, knowing it was not his place to intervene.  But God how he wished that it was.

      She could have been an actress, you know.  Lansdale grinned as if pleased with his pronouncement.  If it wasn’t such an unseemly career choice for a woman, though I suppose businesswoman, as she is now, is not much better.  At least not here, anyway.  Still, she’s quite good as an actress.

      Jacob squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, not wanting to see the humiliation he knew had to be splashed across Lady Pearl’s face just then.  When he finally did open his eyes again, he met her surprisingly level gaze.  There was pain within her, certainly, but the emotion was mixed with determination as well.  He had no idea how anyone in England - let alone London - was going to believe this bright, brilliant, intelligent creature a featherbrain.

      Very well.  Please, Mr. Beeston.  You must let me know if I do an adequate job with my performance.  Unlike only moments ago, her voice was now calm and controlled, almost soft and barely perceptible.  Though she could not completely hide her American accent, she masked it somehow with a softness that seemed real enough – at least at first.  But beneath that?  There were threads of iron, a will so strong he had never seen anything like it.  Not even from The Bloody Duke.  Something cold and dark slithered through Jacob’s veins just then, and he had a feeling he would not like whatever came next.

      With a flick of her eyes, Jacob watched in astonishment as what amounted to a curtain came down deep inside Pearl’s eyes, cutting off access to the bright spark of soul he had seen dancing there earlier.  Had he not been watching closely, Jacob would have likely missed the transformation for it happened so quickly.  Then it was as if a frozen mask stole over her lovely features, changing them into something that looked like her – but wasn’t.

      Instead of the sharp intelligence Jacob had come to know so quickly, her jaw slackened and her mouth relaxed, making her appear a bit dimwitted.  The warmth of her eyes dimmed until he could no longer see the laughter that had lurked there only moments ago.  Her body slumped a bit, the way a debutante’s did when she was attempting to hide her height.  Her eyelids fluttered in that same vapid way he was well familiar with.  Her hands began to flutter about as if she could not quite contain herself.

      Then Pearl lowered her head and whatever she did just then Jacob could not see.  However he felt sick inside when she tilted her head back up and appeared to be the spitting image of every vapid young Society miss he had ever encountered.  Gone was her intelligence and personality, along with the will of iron that he knew lurked inside of her.  Vanished was her intelligence and humor, her sharp wit and her even sharper tongue.  Everything remarkable about her was just gone, leaving a shell of a woman behind.

      It was as if he was looking at a living, breathing statue of a woman instead of a flesh and blood one.  And it both chilled and disgusted him that she had been forced to perfect this lie.

      How many times?  How often?  At whose command?  Why had it started?

      He really did not think he wished to know the answers to those questions.

      Why, Mr. Beeston.  Aren’t you just the charming one?  And so handsome.  Why a lady like me needs a strong, protective gentleman like you in her life.  I swear, I just might swoon some days with all of the hustle and bustle of London!  It is, I fear, too much for a delicate sort of lady like myself.  Her voice was now devoid of most of its normal accent and while not precisely English, was also no longer quite American either.

      Lady Pearl – for Jacob had no doubt that was who she was choosing to be just then – fluttered her eyelashes coquettishly at him, though she couldn’t quite perfect her act.  At least not yet, though he was certain she would in time.  For one brief moment, a single mutinous spark of anger flared in her gaze though it died away just as quickly.  But, like the scar, not before Jacob caught a glimpse of the real woman beneath the mask.

      Then she twittered on and on endlessly with a bunch of nonsense about the weather and fripperies, dresses and slippers and ribbons, and all manner of young, girlish chatter.  Had he not known better, he would have mistaken her for a chit just out of the schoolroom instead of a lady of seven and twenty.  This act of hers stripped nearly ten years off of her age.

      Enough, Pea! Lansdale finally snapped as he rubbed at his temples.  I believe you have proven my point.  Gads, you are giving me a headache!

      Then, like another curtain going up, Lady Pearl seemed to shift within herself again and to his immense relief, Jacob saw the strong, intelligent woman he had met only an hour before reemerge from whatever shadows she had been hiding in while vapid Lady Pearl had come out to play.  Miss Pearl Weston, American businesswoman and world-traveler, was back.  Though the fact that she could disappear so easily was more than a little unnerving.  And it also broke Jacob’s heart that such a magnificent woman was forced to hide the truth of who she was.

      That was...impressive.  Jacob had to give Pearl credit where it was due for the performance had been that.  But it is not necessary, my lord.  Truly.  Miss Weston is fine and acceptable just as she is.  Perfectly fine.

      Jacob could not help but stutter a bit on those last two words because in his mind, there was no finer, more perfect female walking this earth at present than Miss Pearl Weston.  As his overly eager cock would agree.

      Thank you, Mr. Beeston.  Jacob was relieved to hear that Lady Pearl was back to her normal voice.  Though it was not a traditional English accent, he found that he strangely preferred her brash American accent to the falsely modest tones of the myriad of women he had known all of his life.  However, my brother is the marquess and I must do as he requests.  For now.  I shall pretend to be the shallow, selfish creature he desires.

      And that, Jacob thought as he watched Lady Pearl glare at her brother with what might have been murderous intent in her eyes, was the greatest crime he had ever witnessed committed by a client.  And as a barrister, he had seen plenty of crimes in his day.

      Chapter One

      March 1821

      London

      "And I nearly had the wench beneath me with her legs spread, too!  But she cried foul, of course, so I let her go.  Though I am certain she will give in to my considerable charms in time and then we’ll be wed.  Or not.  It all depends upon her, of course.  After all, I certainly wouldn’t wed the chit if I can’t bed her and sample her wares first, you understand.  Still, she’ll fuck with the best of them, what with that temper of hers, if you know what I mean.  She’ll breed well, too, I’d wager.  In fact, I’m nearly certain of it.  All I needed tonight was a little more time, and I would have had her skirts around her head.  Instead, she cried that I was taking liberties.  As if I ever have to force a woman!"

      From the corner of the room, Mr. Jacob Beeston, barrister to the peerage and occasional night manager at the exclusive, peer-owned gaming hell, Noroc, watched as a few men laughed nervously at Lord Samuel Kempshaw, the current Earl of Stillborough, and his rather bad attempt at what he clearly believed was humor.

      For his part, it was all Jacob could do to stop himself from simply shooting the bloody bastard where he sat.  Preferably as many times as he could, just to make certain the bastard was dead.

      The man was currently besmirching the good name of the woman who had held Jacob’s heart – what there was of it – for nearly a year now and Jacob didn’t like it.  He didn’t like it one bit.  Had Jacob been a titled man, he would have called the cur out the moment the earl opened his filthy mouth and began spewing his lies.

      However Jacob was not titled.  Rather, he was a bastard.  And bastards did not defend the honor of titled ladies.  Especially ladies like Miss Pearl Weston, a woman so far above Jacob’s touch that it was laughable that he even still thought of her at all.

      There was no account for the follies of the heart, Jacob supposed, and his heart was among the most foolish he had ever encountered.

      So for the moment, Jacob could do nothing more than lean against the wall in a menacing fashion and glower at everyone around him.  His dark good looks, likely inherited from his real father, served him well in that regard.  As did his fight training, which most people knew about but few had ever seen in action.  Few men, even drunken ones, were foolish enough to take on a man with Jacob’s decidedly nasty reputation.

      Don’t you think you might wish to keep your own counsel on this, Still?  The woman’s brother is right over there and he’s something of an unknown quantity.  They say he has friends.  Powerful ones, if you take my meaning.  That came from Lord Bilby.  The newly minted viscount was young and usually as thick as a post when it came to matters like this.  But not this evening.  Then again, Jacob surmised that might be because the young lord had set his sights on Lady Pearl himself.  Only Bilby had set out to win her by other, less nefarious means.  As if the pup even had a chance.  Not bloody likely.

      Knowing Lady Pearl as he did, Jacob was rather certain she would find Bilby a bumbling fool and inform him of that fact.  Rather forcefully.  And Heaven help the young lord if he attempted to lay a finger upon her.  Jacob had no doubt that she was more than capable of defending herself from the likes of Bilby.  And if she could not?  Then Jacob would be more than happy to lend her a hand if he was able.  Which he was not, since she was so far above his touch that it was laughable.

      Still, the man was defending the lady – to a degree.  So he earned a smidgen of Jacob’s respect for that at least.

      Just then, Bilby sent a rather pointed look in the direction of Lord Daniel Weston, the current Marquess of Lansdale.  Lady Pearl’s brother.  Not that Lansdale seemed to notice.  At present, the man looked to be in something of a drunken stupor but in Jacob’s experience, that was when men were often the most foolish.  And the most dangerous.  Especially Lansdale.

      Then Bilby glanced nervously in Jacob’s direction as well, and Jacob knew precisely why.  On that matter, there was no question.

      Jacob had been hand selected by The Bloody Duke himself to oversee Noroc on certain nights, nights when the clientele tended a bit more to the rowdy side than others.  Jacob also knew that it was rumored he had trained extensively in various fighting arts from the Orient.  That was true, as well.  It wasn’t true that he had single-handedly defeated six men who were destroying Noroc one night.  That night Jacob had help from several of the clubs owners as well.  Still, the rumor had started somehow, and it was to Jacob’s benefit to allow the misinformation to stand as truth.  After all, the more the drunken lords were afraid of him, the easier it was for him to maintain control of the club, even when he wasn’t present.

      Control.  Protect.  Maintain order.  And above all, do so with a smile.

      Those were Jacob’s orders, and he made certain he always carried out his orders.

      Except on nights like tonight when he couldn’t.  When social laws prevented him from smashing in Stillborough’s face the way he would like.  When defending Lady Pearl’s honor would be crossing a line that could not be undone.

      No, tonight, there was very little Jacob could do as the earl continued to sully Lady Pearl’s good name.  She wasn’t Jacob’s to protect.  For the moment, she was under the care and protection of her brother, the aforementioned drunken marquess.  The man didn’t drink to excess often these days, but tonight?  Tonight he was foxed out of his bloody skull.  He had no idea that his sister was being dragged through the proverbial mud or that Jacob was both ready and willing to help remedy that situation.

      Pity that.  Jacob wouldn’t mind giving Stillborough a physical set down.  The man deserved that and more.

      Still, there was nothing Jacob could do until Lansdale acted.  If Lansdale acted.  At present, that was a very big if.  The man was likely so deep in his cups that he couldn’t even hear half of what was being said.

      Still, this was Lady Pearl that the earl was disparaging and that made Jacob want to rip something –

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