Sins of a Ruthless Rogue

“You actually do know each other?” Olivia asked, her face flushed red from where Ian’s hand had been clamped over her mouth.

Clayton hoped she’d taken a good chunk out of his hand. “Quite well. As he mentioned, he’s the third member of the Trio.”

“Wraith?” Ian supplied, hopefully. “Ring any bells?”

But Olivia just shook her head.

“Or Ian Maddox, if you prefer,” Clayton said.

Ian raised a brow. “I didn’t realize we’d progressed to the revealing-our-true-identity part of our relationship.”

Footsteps pounded in the hall.

“Those would be the servants I was attempting to avoid rousing. Perhaps I’ll disappear and let you deal with them.” He bowed to

Olivia. “I shall demonstrate why I was awarded such an intriguing title.”

Clayton and Olivia turned to the door as Kate, two footmen, and a maid entered. “What’s wrong?” Kate asked.

Olivia glanced back over her shoulder and froze. Clayton knew she’d noticed Ian’s favorite trick—vanishing mysteriously.

Clayton had seen Ian’s act enough times to know it was less than fantastical. Despite being slightly shorter and broader than

Clayton, Ian moved with the agility of a tumbler. He was most likely in the wardrobe.

Olivia still wore a look of stunned admiration on her face. Clayton didn’t want to explain his sudden desire to demystify Ian’s trick.

Olivia rubbed at her nose with the back of her hand, obscuring the redness around her mouth. “I saw a mouse.”

“It was truly repulsive,” Clayton added with satisfaction. “In fact, I think it ran under the wardrobe. The servants should check.”

The footmen glanced at each other, then with a grunt shoved the heavy wooden bureau.

Nothing was underneath, of course. But hopefully it had caused Ian heart palpitations.

Kate’s gaze narrowed. “Would you like to move to a less distressing room, Baron?”

Clayton shook his head. “No, I’ll make do with this one.”

Kate circled Olivia. And Clayton suspected she didn’t miss the new wrinkles in the dress from Olivia’s struggle with Ian. “Why don’t

we inspect your room as well?”

Olivia ducked her head low. “I really don’t think—”

But Kate linked her arm through hers. “No, I insist. I wouldn’t want there to be a problem with vermin.”

Clayton would have followed but Kate held up her hand. “You should keep watch in your room in case your mouse returns. Or

perhaps an angry pig?”

Kate escorted Olivia and the herd of servants into the other room and shut the door after them, but Clayton could hear her speaking.

He stepped closer and pressed his ear to the door.

“Now are you going to tell me what really happened or—”

“I wasn’t in the wardrobe, by the way.” Ian reappeared next to him, his comment making it impossible to hear Olivia’s response.

“Pity,” Clayton said. “Under the bed?” Ian’s hair was slightly mussed on one side.

“I’m sorry I almost stabbed you, dear friend.” Ian copied Clayton’s voice perfectly, then switched to his own. “I thought I’d save you

from feeling guilty for not apologizing.”

“I don’t.”

“I know. That’s why I saved you the trouble.”

“No, I don’t feel guilty.”

“You wound me, old man.” Ian leaned forward and theatrically placed his ear on the door. “Why are we spying at her door?”

Clayton stepped back. “I wasn’t spying.”

“Ah, the floor was slanted making you lean toward it. I understand.” Ian lifted an eyebrow. “I’m glad she had the sense to scream

once I let go of her. She’s brave. In all your descriptions of her, you didn’t mention that.”

For a man who prided himself on his memory, there were too many things Clayton was uncertain of now. The bravery, for instance.

Had that always been there only to be forgotten in his hurt and anger? More and more, he was doubting his justifications for staying

away from her. Now when he thought of her, it wasn’t about the betrayal, but the wonderful, nearly giddy times they’d shared.

He didn’t want to remember. The memories were too tempting. Too sweet. Like eating a sugar cube after months of starvation.

“There’s a lot I never mentioned.”

Ian sighed. “Ah, yes, because you’re an uncaring villain. Full of secrets and driven by revenge.”

“I never claimed to be uncaring.” Clayton picked up a paper from the floor and tucked it into his jacket. It was her copy of the list. She

must have dropped it when Ian had mauled her.

Ian flipped through the papers on the end table. “Hmm . . . I seem to recall this conversation you had with Madeline a few months

ago— ‘You really don’t care if you destroy all those lives?’ To which you replied, and I think I can quote you with some confidence:

‘No.’ ”

Clayton moved the stack of papers away from Ian before he confused their order. “She’s under my protection.”

“The perfect time to ruin her—in a far different way than you plan to ruin her father. At least I hope.”

“I don’t plan to ruin her.”

“You’ve already done it then?”

“No.”

“Then why was she in your room?”

“She must have finished the books in her room.”

“You’re going to try to claim she came into your room looking for a book? You know, as she struggled against me, I couldn’t help

noticing what a fine—”

Clayton’s fist connected with his friend’s chin before he could finish.

Ian shifted his jaw back and forth before grinning. “Spirit. I was going to say she had a fine spirit.”

Clayton flexed his hand. The woman was driving him mad. It was as simple as that. “Thank you for coming, by the way.”

“As if I could resist that cryptic message you sent me in the middle of the night. I never miss an opportunity to partake in violence

and subterfuge. So what’s going on? No, wait.” Ian lowered himself into the delicately embroidered chair in the far corner of the

room. “I know better than to stand through one of your explanations. You’ll probably feel the need to tell me the color of the villains’

shoes and what type of shaving powder they use.”

But then Ian’s banter disappeared, replaced by an intense focus and keen intelligence Clayton often suspected was far greater than

his own. “Now the details.”

Clayton recounted everything that had happened so far.

“They were going after Madeline?” Ian finally asked.

The comment jarred Clayton. At some point over the past day, concern for Madeline had been overshadowed by fear for Olivia.

Which only went to show he needed to realign his priorities. Madeline was the one who’d stitched him back together after the

French were done with him. He owed her everything.

Ian stood, his fluid grace absent. “This is the second time we’ve been compromised. First, Einhern was led to Madeline. Now

someone has given you away to our enemies.”

Clayton hadn’t thought of it in that light. The Trio was being betrayed one by one.

Ian walked to the window and surveyed the ground below. “Have you broken the code?”