If He's Tempted (Wherlocke #5)

“I suggest you find yourself a new position as soon as possible,” he said. “I would not be comfortable having a servant who once tried to keep me out of my own home. Oh, and do not think to weigh your pockets down with my goods as you flee this place for I have an exact accounting of all that is here.” It was a lie but he was not very concerned about that. “So, I believe, does my mother.”


When the man paled and then scrambled to his feet to run to the back of the house, Brant shook his head. It was sad when a man’s threat carried less weight than the threat of his mother. He grabbed the arm of a young footman who was cowering in an alcove a few steps away from the door. There had to be a reason the servants were all so terrified of the countess but he would dig for the why of that later.

“Where is my mother?” he asked.

“In the conservatory, m’lord. Just down there and to the right.” He blushed. “Oh, suspect you know that.”

“I might have except that I suspect this conservatory is a very new addition to the house.”

“It is about two years old, maybe a few months less than that. Do you want to be announced?”

Brant smiled and when the footman paled and stepped back a little, he suspected it was a very predatory smile. “No, thank you, lad. I will show myself in. Since she will not be in a very good humor soon, you might wish to find some place to be out of her reach. Name?”

“James. James Tompkin. I was just hired last week. Seems the last footman disappeared all sudden like.”

“Ah, I understand. Hide for a while, lad.” He paused and decided he could trust the boy, and boy he was for Brant doubted he was much over eighteen. “If anything happens that you think is wrong once I leave here, I can be reached at the Wherlocke Warren which is number 10 Bennington Road.”

The boy nodded and ran off. Brant continued down the hall until he came to the door the boy had indicated. He stepped into the room and nearly swore. He was not one who knew much about the cost of things such as conservatories or furniture, but he recognized when something was expensive. He did not want to think of how much his mother had spent to add this room to the house. There was even a small fountain somewhere in the midst of all the plants for he could hear the water as he stood there studying the green marble floor.

Shaking his head, he began to wander through the place until he found his mother. It was not that she sat there wearing what was no better than a nightdress and robe made of silk so fine he could actually see the shape of her form through it. Not something a son wishes to see, he thought, and averted his eyes. It was the shirtless man sitting at her feet being fed grapes that shocked him. He had never considered his mother a sensual woman but then he realized it was not an act of lust he was seeing so much as an exertion of a woman’s power over a man. The Countess of Fieldgate had discovered a way to keep a man enthralled. It did not surprise him to see that the man she currently had at her feet was the huge footman she had been seen with many times.

“Hello, Mother,” he drawled as he stepped into her view. “Enjoying your morning, I see.”

The fact that she did not even look embarrassed disgusted him. She simply waved the footman away. It was only the man who revealed any hint of emotion and that was with a glare of such frustrated anger that Brant thought he might be drawn into a fight. Instead the man grabbed up his shirt and boots and walked out, never hesitating to obey the countess.

“What are you doing here?” She smoothed her hands over the skirts of her scandalous outfit with all the calm and poise of one wearing a proper gown. “I believe I made it clear that I do not want you in this house.”

“And I believe I made it clear that you are here on my sufferance.”

“Ah, yes, well, I am working to change that.”

“Too late. I have it all in writing. I also now have full parental authority over the boys and Agatha.”

For a moment there was such fury on her face that he had to beat down the urge to take a step back. And, then, just as quickly, the cold, aloof expression he was accustomed to returned. It was, perhaps, small of him, but he was going to thoroughly enjoy taking this house away from her. She had made it her own, done just what she pleased with it even though she had always known that she had no claim to ownership. He had allowed it simply because it had been too much trouble to do otherwise. The little house he had bought to house his occasional mistress had suited him more.

“You are an unwed man and one whose profligate ways are well known. No one would give you full power over a girl of sixteen.”

“The girl is my sister and I am head of this household. Now, I am willing to give you a few weeks to get your affairs in order before you must retire to one of your dower properties, but that marriage contract you are negotiating with Minden is ended. There will be no negotiations with that man and he is, in fact, forbidden to come to this house.”