A Dom for Christmas (9 page)

“My Lord.
I apologize for interrupting
you, but you need to know, it worked.”

“Excellent.” Cam clapped the
man on the shoulder. It was good news, but how he wished it could have been
announced ten minutes later. “Was much of a mess made?”

Styles shook his head.
“Minimal, My Lord.
What we assumed would occur, given it had
to look as if we’d hidden the item. I think it was our good luck he found it
with relative ease.”

Cam nodded. “I’ll be down to
confer within the quarter hour. Perhaps you could ask someone to arrange
refreshments for us all.”

Styles nodded and turned on his
heel.

Cam walked back into the
bedchamber and closed the door behind him.

“As much as I’d like to say ah,
now where were we, let us continue, sadly I
can not
.
I’m needed elsewhere.”

“What was that all about?”
Angie asked him as he put his pantaloons back on much faster than he’d shed
them.

“Nothing for
you to worry about.
We merely set a trap for
Rawcliffe
and
it seems it has worked.”

“Really?
What sort of trap,” Angie
inquired in an interested voice. “His bollocks in a gin trap?”

“Bloodthirsty
wench.
Sadly, no.”

“Bugger, I don’t believe in
stuff like that, but for him I could make an exception. So what did you do?”
She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood upright.

“Never mind what did I do. What
are you doing?” Cam tied a neckerchief around his neck. He had no intention of
fiddling with cravats and pins.

Angelina looked up from tying
her chemise.
“Coming with you, of course.
If it
involves that worm, it somehow involves me. I want to know what’s going on.”

“No.”

“Yes, and punish me later. So
what did you do?”

Resigned to being accompanied,
Cam sighed. “Turn around and let me do those ribbons up. We let it be known in
a roundabout way, via servants chosen especially for the task, that a certain
ornament was usually left in the study where the lock was faulty. He fell for
it.”

Angie jumped, leaned forward,
and fumbled under the pillow. “But it isn’t.” She held on to the angel tightly.

 
“Stand still whilst I do this or I’ll be
Shibari
–tying you into your dress. Of course it isn’t, but
a cheap copy was and it is now in his possession. There, now you are
presentable. Come.” Cam took his wife’s hand and led her downstairs.

“But he’ll find out it’s a
fake, won’t he?” Angie asked as they made their way along the corridor toward
Cam’s study. “And then it’ll be worse.”

“He’ll never know. The stones
are diamonds, not perfect by any means but good enough for
Rawcliffe
to think he’d made a killing. He’s in debt, and if his parents find out to what
extent, he’ll be sent to manage their plantation, away from temptation, without
anything to fall back on.”

“Sounds ideal to me,” Angie
commented. “Why not let it happen?”

“If he doesn’t
honor
his debts, it won’t just be him in disgrace. And his
grandmama
and mine are cousins. It would nigh on kill both
of them. They’re both well into their nineties, and likely to pass over before
too long anyway, so I might as well ensure their last days are happy ones. His
parents will cover the remainder. He’ll still go to St. Kitts.”

“You’re too altruistic by far.
He’s a snake.”

“Oh he is, but with him so far
away, he’ll be insignificant. Not even a snake, a worm.”

Angelina laughed. It was a
happy, joyful noise that gladdened his heart and made up for his still
unrequited, rock hard cock. Cam swung her into his arms, thrust his leg between
hers, and nibbled the nape of her neck. The hitch in her breathing was all he
could ask for.

“And as soon as we sort
everything else out, we can forget all about him.” He murmured the words. “And
as soon as you’re well, we have a lot of time to make up.”

“I’m well now.” She moaned as
he sucked on the sensitive skin beneath her ear.

“And I will punish you for all
the things you have done when you were specifically told not to.”

The thought of his particular
forms of punishment didn’t seem to bother her. “Oh…oh yes. Argh…”

He bit her earlobe. She gasped
and mewled. He daren’t look toward his cock to see if his pantaloons were
stained. If they were not, he was damned lucky. Once again she had him ready to
come.

“Enough now.
Let’s get this meeting over.”
He drew back and patted her arse, none too gently.

“Ouch.” Angelina rubbed the
spot he’d hit. “I thought you didn’t spank?”

“I’m rapidly changing my mind.
Now behave.”

She curtseyed, and it wasn’t a
mockery.
“Yes, Sir.”

He nodded and opened the door
to the study. The curtains were pulled across the window, shutting out the dark
evening, the coals in the fire were glowing, and the lamps lit. Someone had
added a swathe of greenery across the mantle, and put pinecones, apples, and
nuts into a crystal bowl on a side table. It looked homey and welcomin
g
.
 

Angie looked at the additions.
“I thought you don’t do Christmas decorations? These are lovely.”

“I’m pleased you approve. But I
still have no idea what you mean.”

****

Angie guessed that. Cam had
looked somewhat blank before he’d kissed her hand. It still tingled and she
resisted the urge to rub it, or worse still, put the spot he’d touched to her
mouth.

Instead she held her arm close
to her side and studied the three men
siting
around
the library table. Only one of them seemed even vaguely familiar.

“My younger brother Gareth on
your left,” Cam
said,
sotto voce
.
“Sykes, my business manager, in the
center
,
and Viscount Albemarle of…well, just
of
.”

Although his comment was
cryptic in the extreme, it made sense to Angie. Especially after the last
Regency mystery she’d read. Then, she’d thought it far-fetched; now she
wondered just where the author had drawn her facts.

She curtseyed toward the men,
and was amused to see each surge to his feet and bow to her. Normally that
would be as likely as her winning the lottery, and she didn’t even buy a ticket
for that.

But then, who is to say what now
is my normal
. The thought that this might
be her reality was scary, even if this Cam was as hot, good-looking,
caring,
and it seemed, inventive, as her other Cam. Angie
liked her leggings and sheepskin boots, her short skirts and strappy tops.
To say nothing of cappuccinos, pizzas, Johnny Depp, and dairy milk
chocolate.
In a chunky bar from the fridge, not hot
and runny in a cup.

 
Mind you, I’d take Johnny
Depp any which way.
Angie composed herself and her thoughts, and settled herself in
the seat Cam had held out for her, on the opposite side of the table of their
visitors. Only once she was comfortable did the others also sit down. She
rather liked that courtesy, although the closeness of Cam to her didn’t bode
well for coherent thoughts.

A sudden thought struck her.
What would her other Cam be doing? Where was she to him and all her friends?
Did that life even exist? Angie’s skin became clammy, and she swallowed to
dispel the feelings of nausea that filled her. She couldn’t lose it now.
Panicking or tossing her cookies wouldn’t help. Maybe if she cleared up
this
here and now, she’d be able to find her way back to her other life.

 
Maybe.

However, for the moment there
was nothing else she could do, and Stuart needed to be dealt with.

“Ready?” Cam asked her as he
put a goblet in front of her. To Angie’s relief, it only contained lemonade.
She needed a clear head.

“As I’ll ever
be.
So,
what’s going on?” She looked at the three men in front of her who avoided her
gaze and instead gazed toward Cam. “Okay, I get it. You’re the three wise
monkeys, and Cam’s the organ grinder. Spill the beans.”

They seeme
d
confused, as well they might.
Angie inwardly groaned at her mixed metaphors and muddled sayings. “Tell me
just what’s going on?” she suggested.

“Ah.” Sykes tugged at his
cravat.

Gareth studied his nails, and
Albemarle cleared his throat.

“If I may, My Lord?” he asked
diffidently. Angie judged diffidence was not his usual attitude.

“Oh by all means.” Cam pushed
the decanter across the table. “Duty paid,” he said.

“But of course.” There was a
twinkle in Albemarle’s eyes as he poured himself a generous tot, and passed the
decanter to Sykes. Angie swore he winked briefly.
“So, to
recap for the Countess.
Several months ago, it came to my notice that
Rawcliffe
had befriended some rather
unsavory
characters with less than sterling backgrounds. They had recognized his
predilection for heavy gambling in the less than respectable hells, and
encouraged him. Once they had his promissory notes, they had a hold over him he
couldn’t get away from.
Hence his attempt at burglary, and
his attack on you.
His Lordship and I have had reason to suspect
Rawcliffe
was in dire straits, and although we know he was
to be shipped off to the Colonies, we wished to reduce the scandal as much as
possible.”

“Okay, now I’m confused.”

Gareth tilted his chair back
and swung it on two legs. Angie admired the angle he tipped to and didn’t
topple over. “It’s simple, really.
Rawcliffe
dipped
too deep. Got into trouble and decided to get out of it with a spot of
burglary. Your husband got wind of his intentions, but before we were able to
set our plans in motion, you were attacked. Then we were able to set a trap to
thwart him, and arrange for his immediate departure from these shores. At this
moment he’s on one of Cam’s ships and about to set sail on the tide for the
Colonies. It will make him or break him, and I for one don’t care which.” He
swung his chair legs onto the floor with a thump, and reached for the decanter.

“Succinct and to the point,”
Cam said. “But I need to explain why we used your angel.”

She had wondered.

“Please.”

“I told you about our tenuous
connection to
Rawcliffe
?”

“Very tenuous, thankfully,”
Gareth said.

Cam frowned at him, and Gareth
raised his hands. “I only speak the truth.”

“True, but
there is no need.
I’ve explained the connection to Angelina.”

“But not why he knew or wanted
my angel.” She fingered the ornament in her pocket.
How dare they use it as bait?
“And while I think of it, I’m not
impressed about this. It’s my angel. Not yours or bloody Stuart’s.” She glared
at Cam, who quirked one eyebrow at her. “Well?” she asked in such a belligerent
tone she was ashamed of herself.

The three men across the table
studiously avoided her gaze. Cam stretched toward her and pinched her thigh.
Even through her dress and chemise it was hard enough to hurt. She glared. He
smiled and nipped again.

“Many years ago, it was a
wedding gift to a very distant relative of both of us, and unfortunately a
connection of
Rawcliffe’s
. Hence I believe this is
how he knew about the diamonds. At some point, as far as I can tell, it was
given to my great-
grandmama
, and her cousin coveted
it. As you know, most of the ton can find a connection if they go back enough
generations. This somewhat unwelcome connection then eventually went down your
side of the family. Stuart would know of it through his family lore. I think he
decided it would be easy money, and a way out of his trouble. Little does he
know.
” Cam smiled.

It wasn’t pleasant and it sent
shivers down Angie’s spine. She hoped she’d never be the recipient of such a
facial expression. It was full of determination and promised retribution.

“He was wrong. All he has is
enough to save his parents from disgrace, no more.”

“So, all is well now?” Angie
asked. “We can move on?”

“We can move on,” Cam agreed.
“I need to confer here for a short while. Do you wish to wait or retire?”

The fact he seemed happy with
whatever she decided made up Angie’s mind. She pushed back her chair and stood
up,
even as she waved to the three men opposite to remain
seated. “I’ll bid you farewell and goodnight, gentlemen. I...” She paused, and
remembered something from her reading. “I am somewhat fatigued.” Angie
curtseyed, thankful for school plays, books, and general nosiness about times
gone by.