Page 43 of Seduced By a Scoundrel

“London does not seem to have changed much,” Jeremy said with an adorably benign smile, looking out the hack’s dirty window as they drove through the bustling morning streets.

Shopkeepers had just begun to set out their wares, messenger boys dashed through the crowds, and factory workers made their way from their homes to their work. One young woman stepped in front of the hack too quickly, was nearly run over, and shouted vibrant curses at the driver while shaking her fist.

Jeremy chuckled. “It is just as colorful as ever it was.”

Despite Derrek’s growing seriousness and the way his nerves had been pulled tightly again with the return of his policeman’s instincts, he smiled. One of the things he adored most about Jeremy was his sunny view of life, even in the grubbiest parts of London. He was a great deal like Joseph in that way, always willing to see the best in people.

A wave of old grief washed over Derrek as he studied his new love rather than watching the streets as they passed. Part of him felt as though he’d failed Joseph in giving his heart away again. He wondered if it made him false to his first love to find a new love.

Joseph would shake his head and tell him he was being silly. Love was love, and the more of it that filled the earth, the happier all its inhabitants would be.

“We’re heading toward Hyde Park,” Jeremy commented with a frown after they’d been weaving through the increasingly busy streets for nearly fifteen minutes. He pulled his gaze away from the window and looked at Derrek. “We should be going in the opposite direction, toward Jermyn Street.”

A twist of conscience hit Derrek. He sat straighter, cleared his throat, and said, “We’re not going to your shop. I’m taking you to The Chameleon Club.”

Jeremy blinked, mostly in confusion, but with a hint of suspicion as well. “Why would we be going to a gentleman’s club so early in the morning when I have been apart from my business for two months now?”

Derrek tried not to wince. This was precisely the reason he had not discussed the matter with Jeremy before setting out.

“Until I can determine the situation here in London and the intensity with which Conroy might still be after you, I do not think it safe for you to return to Jermyn Street.”

“Youdo not think it safe?” Jeremy asked, his voice taking on a sharper tone.

“The Chameleon Club is protected by its members and the secrecy surrounding it,” Derrek explained, sounding gruffer than he felt in the hope that Jeremy would back down. “Despite the correspondence I received while we were away and the information about Conroy’s intent that I was able to glean through my investigations during that time, I am not convinced your life is not still in danger.”

“Your investigations?” Jeremy looked even more affronted. “What investigations?”

“While we were in Kent,” Derrek said. “I did as much as I could to track Conroy’s movements from a distance and to discover what connections Lord Albert, and possibly Lord Linton, might have to the Princess Victoria.”

“When did you undertake these investigations?” Jeremy asked, his voice pitching higher.

Derrek hesitated before answering. The last thing he expected was offense from his dove. “What did you think I was doing during the days while you were working with Miss Jones?” he asked carefully.

Jeremy gaped at him. “I believed you to be at the cottage, tending the garden and making certain our home was happy and secure.”

The idea tickled Derrek’s fancy even as it made him question Jeremy’s naivety. If either of the two of them would be cast as the one who stayed home to tend the hearth, he would not have expected it to be him.

“We did not venture deep into Kent to play house, Jeremy,” he said sternly instead. “We went there because your life was threatened. I am a policeman. It is my duty not only to protect you but to protect and preserve the interests of the king.”

“The king?” Jeremy asked incredulously.

He then blinked and sat back in his seat, crossing his arms. Derrek was not entirely certain what sort of irritated emotion had come over his love, but he suspected it had something to do with being left out of what had otherwise been a harmonious time of togetherness for the two of them. Perhaps he now questioned how genuine their affection for each other had been while living in the cottage.

Derrek questioned none of it. He loved Jeremy. He was more certain of that now than ever. Which was why he fully intended to do whatever was necessary to keep his beloved out of harm’s way, whether Jeremy agreed with it or not.

They reached The Chameleon Club a short time later, and though it was still obvious that Jeremy was not pleased with any of Derrek’s plans, he gathered up his bags and ventured into the discreet building without putting up a fuss.

The club was mildly busy with those members who were either in residence or who had come to break their fast with the exquisite cooking of the club’s kitchen staff. Derrek could not have given a tinker’s dam about how he looked or smelled after their speedy retreat from Maidstone Close and their night in the mail coach, but Jeremy hunched in on himself as though he was ashamed to be seen in his current state.

Fortunately, there were ways they could discreetly find what they needed without the entire Brotherhood seeing them.

“Talboys, Wilkes, you’ve returned,” Lord Thurleigh, one of the club’s founders and managers greeted them as he came down the stairs at the end of the wide, main hallway. “Has the matter of your flight been resolved?”

“Not unless we’ve already passed Princess Victoria’s birthday or Sir John Conroy and the Duchess of Kent have already been disposed of,” Derrek said, stepping ahead of Jeremy to shake hands in greeting with Cecil.

“Alas, Conroy is still prominent at Kensington Palace, or so I hear,” Cecil said with a sigh. “But the princess’s birthday is next week, so there is hope.”

Derrek glanced over his shoulder to Jeremy as if to say they were almost out of the woods, but not quite.

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