Brant and that Wherlocke bitch he was rutting with needed to die, she thought viciously and, again, fought to cool the heat of her anger. Until she could find a way to accomplish that she needed something to set him back for a change, to let him taste the bitter flavor of defeat. She also had to do it in such a way that no one could prove she had any part in it.
She looked at John, her current lover and, she admitted, slave. One thing she had learned from her lecherous bastard of a husband was how to play upon a man’s true weakness—his lusts. John could refuse her nothing. Even if he grew enough backbone to try, she could see him hanged a dozen times over for the blood on his hands. He was a reluctant killer, however, and would need persuasion when the time came to send him after her son and his woman.
Letitia actually wondered for a moment if she should just burn the house down. It would deprive her son of the pleasure of it. She looked around again and knew she could not do it. This was her monument to her success and she fully intended to keep it, even if she was forced to give it up for a little while.
That left the other prize Brant had stolen from her. Agatha, her soft, weakling of a daughter. Or, perhaps not as weak as she had thought, for the girl had somehow managed to get her brother to London to help her. However, Minden desperately wanted the girl. He had convinced himself that such a young, innocent girl, one of excellent breeding, would be the cure of the pox that was eating away at his body and mind. It was a foolish belief, for nothing could save the man now, but Letitia had seen a chance to gather a hefty purse from the man. Now she both would get the money and spit in the eye of her arrogant son.
“John,” she said, and smiled at him in a way she knew would stir his lusts, “I have something I need you to do.”
“You know I will do anything for you,” he said as he stepped closer and pulled her into his arms.
Letitia swallowed the wave of distaste that always swamped her the first time any man held her close. She hated sex. Hated the mess of it, the sweat, the smell, and the need to have a man so close to her to achieve what she needed. It had taken her a long while to sharpen her seductive skills and learn how to hide the fact that she hated everything to do with lovemaking and even hated men themselves. But the first time she had realized that she had something that men desired, she had begun to use it to her advantage and it had worked very well for her.
She slid her arms up around his neck. “I need you to go and find Minden. You must tell him that unless he acts quickly he will lose Agatha. All he needs to do is bring me the sum we last agreed on and he can take her away today.”
“I know right where he is, m’lady.” He kissed her neck. “You want me to leave right now?”
She could feel the hard ridge of his manhood pressed against her and nearly cursed. There were a lot of things she would require of him in the near future, the sort of things he always needed to be persuaded to do. It would be best if she began the persuading now.
“No, I believe we have time.”
Brant found Olympia in her bedchamber at her writing desk. By the look of it, there had been a lot of letters recently delivered. Her family was proving to be frighteningly skilled at unearthing every secret his mother had as well as the ones she had used to force people to do as she wanted. Very soon they would have more than enough to get the woman hanged or transported. He was thinking the latter would be good for, even if she managed to escape her chains, it would take her a very long time to get back to England.
He walked over and kissed her on the side of her neck, breathing in the scent of her and feeling his body tighten with need. “Busy as always. Do you know, you, with the help of your family, could be a very good investigator?”
Olympia laughed. “So I could although my family might soon get weary of my requests for information on various things.”
“Maybe not. You told me they all love to pry into people’s secrets.”
“True.” She turned in her seat to look at him. “You are looking very pleased with yourself. Have you found out something that will finally end your mother’s games?”
He took the papers out of his pocket and handed them to her. He was eager to give her the gift he had taken time to find before coming to the Warren but that could wait until a more appropriate time. Right now, it was a pleasure to watch her face as she read. The smile she gave him when she was done made him even more eager to get her into his arms.
“You have done it,” she said and leapt up to throw her arms around him and kiss him.
“Andras has done it,” he corrected. “When I first went to him I thought him too young, perhaps even too gentle of nature, to deal with this but I trusted in your judgment and am very glad I did. He knows what paths to take to get information and, in this case, where to go when the authority you need to circumvent is corrupt.”