Page 36 of When a Lady Desires a Wicked Lord
She gasped. “To me?”
Matthew nodded. “He insists he will carry his secret to the grave if anyone else is within his sight.”
“What you are proposing is out of the question,” Benedict protested. “You cannot expect Alexandra to subject herself to that bastard’s evil.”
“She will be well-protected. There is no chance of harm,” Matthew said coolly.
“Have you gone mad? The man tried to kill her.” Flint edged Benedict’s words “I will not allow you to put her in that position.”
The protectiveness in his voice pleased her beyond reason, but she could not allow this debate between the men to continue.
She slanted Benedict a glance as she summoned a confident tone. “Really, now—must I remind you both that I can speak for myself? I cannot see that listening to what the man has to say poses any concern for my safety. Believe me when I say I have no qualms about seeing that horrible man again. I rather look forward to showing him that he has not intimidated me.”
“I do understand, Alex. But I rather agree with Marlsbrook.” Jennie wove her fingers together, as she tended to do when she was upset. “Meeting that cur’s demand goes against my instincts.”
“The prospect does leave a foul taste in one’s mouth,” Matthew said, his tones calm and quiet. “But every scrap of information we can get is valuable. If meeting the rotter’s terms will speed the process, it makes sense.”
“Respectfully, I must disagree,” Jennie said. “Alex, you do not have to do this.”
She squared her shoulders. Her sister’s protectiveness was unwarranted. Good heavens, it wasn’t as if Jennie had to shield her from every scrape and bit of nastiness.
“Think carefully, Alexandra,” Benedict said. “A man like Rooney has no scruples, no sense of decency. God only knows why he wants to talk to you—and you alone.” He reached for her hand. “There are other means of getting the information.”
She firmed her chin. “If providing the man with this concession—a few minutes speaking with me while guards observe the situation at all times—is expedient, then it is worth that small sacrifice on my part.”
“This endeavor is too dangerous,” Benedict persisted. “You don’t know how evil a man like him can be.”
“She will be protected,” Matthew said.
Benedict flashed a scowl. “As if that carries great weight coming from you.”
“Come now, this discussion is pointless.” Alex met Benedict’s eyes. “While I respect your opinions, this decision is entirely my own. I will do it—I will meet with that vile man.”
…
Benedict slanted Alexandra a sidelong glance. As they walked along a dark, damp corridor in the jail where Alfred Rooney was being held, she held her fingers loosely interlaced in what seemed an effort to still any trembling. Her complexion had gone ashen. How could Colton consider allowing Alex to be escorted alone to the iron-barred cell that imprisoned Rooney? Damnation, they should not be so eager to award the contemptible devil the audience he’d demanded. Had the world gone mad?
The unforgiving stone amplified the sound of his boot heels against the floor. Each tap seemed to echo the pounding of his pulse. He’d insisted on accompanying her to the point where he would be out of Rooney’s view. Matthew Colton led Alex to the jackal, while his wife and a massive bodyguard trailed their measured steps.
Courage brimmed in her eyes, not quite disguising the flicker of fear in the depths of her golden-brown irises. If only Alexandra had been not been hell-bent on meeting with the scoundrel. In time, Colton and his agents would have induced Rooney to talk. Benedict had no doubt of that. But days and hours were a luxury they did not have, as she’d pointed out in a calm voice. He suspected her motives were not entirely based on expedience and logic. Rather, a desire to prove to Rooney that he had not cowed her drove her toward that cell.
Still, he could not make peace with the fact that Alexandra would be subjected to Rooney’s despicable gaze, not for one more minute. In this case, the end did not justify the means.
“Stay back,” Colton said as they approached the cell. With a nod, Benedict joined Mrs. Colton and the bodyguard as Colton escorted Alex into the area just beyond Rooney’s cell.
“You’ve more nerve than the men I’ve dealt with,” Rooney’s voice boomed from the cell. “But I told you to come alone.”
“That’s not possible. You know that, Rooney,” Colton responded coolly. “I will step into the corridor, but if you have any notion of exploiting this situation, be aware that I will cut you down and ask questions later.”
“Bugger off,” Rooney muttered. “You don’t scare me. I am a dead man, and we both know it.”
“I will speak to Mr. Rooney now.” Alex’s voice was calm despite the slight waver in her tones.
“Good enough,” Colton said, moments before joining them out of Rooney’s sight. He’d ordered a mirror installed just beyond Rooney’s cell, allowing them to keep Alex in sight. One hint of trouble, and Rooney would no longer have need of the hangman’s services.
“Do you know why I came to you that night?” Rooney asked, seeming to lose a trace of his belligerence.
“I believe you made that abundantly clear.”
