Roger’s lip. Roger yelped in pain and slapped her again.
Suddenly the door was flung open and Lord and Lady Mayhew spilled into the room. Lady Mayhew put her hand to her mouth and would have swooned if Lord Mayhew hadn’t steadied her.
“What is going on here?” the old man thundered. Though long past his prime, Lord Mayhew was still an impressive man. Moral, stern and honest, he was the complete opposite of his sadistic son and heir.
Roger leaped to his feet. He couldn’t afford to anger his father, who had been threatening for years to disinherit him in favor of his younger brother. Malcolm was trustworthy and dependable, everything Roger wasn’t. Thus Roger was obliged to hide his cruel nature in order to placate his parents. If they ever found out about his involvement with the Hellfire Club, or looked into his gambling debts, there would be hell to pay.
“The Irish whore has been toying with me since she arrived,” Roger lied. “I’m just giving her what she wants.”
Moira flipped down her skirts to cover her legs and pushed herself up on her elbows. “That’s not true, milord. I was minding my own business when Lord Roger accosted me. I’m a good girl, I don’t want…” she gestured toward the bed and grimaced, “…this.”
“Oh, Roger, how could you?” Lady Mayhew lamented. “Why can’t you be more like your father? Or your brother Malcolm?”
“I can’t believe you’d take a whore’s side. I’m your son, for God’s sake!”
Though Lord Justin wasn’t cognizant of every aspect of Roger’s debauchery, he’d heard rumors of his son’s vices. And he’d seen nothing in Moira’s behavior to suggest she was a wanton out to entrap his son.
“I don’t believe Moira’s to blame,” Lord Justin concluded. “I’m giving you fair warning, Roger. This is never to happen again, do you understand? In the future, leave the servants alone. I know you have a mistress tucked away somewhere, so go to her when you feel the need. If you persist in mistreating the servants, I might find it necessary to strike you from my will in favor of your brother.”
Roger stiffened. He was counting on inheriting his father’s title and estate, and no one was going to cheat him out of it.
“I understand, Father. It won’t happen again.” Contriteness galled him and he vowed to make Moira pay for embarrassing him before his parents.
Lord Justin nodded, satisfied with Roger’s response. Obviously he didn’t know his son very well. “You may leave, Moira. I’m sure you have duties to perform.”
Moira rose shakily from the bed and shook out her skirts. When she moved past Roger, he lowered his voice and said for her ears alone, “I’m not through with you, bitch. I’ll have you yet—on your knees begging for my attention.”
Swallowing convulsively, Moira fled the room.
A few days later, Moira learned how truly evil Roger was when Lady Mayhew called all the servants to the hall long after they had retired. They filed in in various stages of undress and looked in bewilderment at one another when informed that a valuable diamond-and-emerald necklace wasmissing from Lady Mayhew’s jewelry case. Since no one admitted to the theft, Roger suggested that all the servants’ rooms be searched. They were sent to their rooms shortly afterward to wait for Lord Roger and his father to conduct the search.
Moira waited on pins and needles. She wasn’t really worried, knowing that she wasn’t guilty, but this whole matter made her distinctly uneasy. She recalled Lord Roger’s threat and feared his reprisal.
Lord Roger and his father arrived in due time. They searched through her meager belongings first and found nothing. Then Roger sent her a smug look and turned back her thin straw mattress. Beneath it he found the necklace still encased in its velvet bag. Moira let out a cry of dismay.
“It can’t be! I swear I didn’t steal the necklace.”
Saddened, Lord Justin looked at Moira and shook his
Suddenly the door was flung open and Lord and Lady Mayhew spilled into the room. Lady Mayhew put her hand to her mouth and would have swooned if Lord Mayhew hadn’t steadied her.
“What is going on here?” the old man thundered. Though long past his prime, Lord Mayhew was still an impressive man. Moral, stern and honest, he was the complete opposite of his sadistic son and heir.
Roger leaped to his feet. He couldn’t afford to anger his father, who had been threatening for years to disinherit him in favor of his younger brother. Malcolm was trustworthy and dependable, everything Roger wasn’t. Thus Roger was obliged to hide his cruel nature in order to placate his parents. If they ever found out about his involvement with the Hellfire Club, or looked into his gambling debts, there would be hell to pay.
“The Irish whore has been toying with me since she arrived,” Roger lied. “I’m just giving her what she wants.”
Moira flipped down her skirts to cover her legs and pushed herself up on her elbows. “That’s not true, milord. I was minding my own business when Lord Roger accosted me. I’m a good girl, I don’t want…” she gestured toward the bed and grimaced, “…this.”
“Oh, Roger, how could you?” Lady Mayhew lamented. “Why can’t you be more like your father? Or your brother Malcolm?”
“I can’t believe you’d take a whore’s side. I’m your son, for God’s sake!”
Though Lord Justin wasn’t cognizant of every aspect of Roger’s debauchery, he’d heard rumors of his son’s vices. And he’d seen nothing in Moira’s behavior to suggest she was a wanton out to entrap his son.
“I don’t believe Moira’s to blame,” Lord Justin concluded. “I’m giving you fair warning, Roger. This is never to happen again, do you understand? In the future, leave the servants alone. I know you have a mistress tucked away somewhere, so go to her when you feel the need. If you persist in mistreating the servants, I might find it necessary to strike you from my will in favor of your brother.”
Roger stiffened. He was counting on inheriting his father’s title and estate, and no one was going to cheat him out of it.
“I understand, Father. It won’t happen again.” Contriteness galled him and he vowed to make Moira pay for embarrassing him before his parents.
Lord Justin nodded, satisfied with Roger’s response. Obviously he didn’t know his son very well. “You may leave, Moira. I’m sure you have duties to perform.”
Moira rose shakily from the bed and shook out her skirts. When she moved past Roger, he lowered his voice and said for her ears alone, “I’m not through with you, bitch. I’ll have you yet—on your knees begging for my attention.”
Swallowing convulsively, Moira fled the room.
A few days later, Moira learned how truly evil Roger was when Lady Mayhew called all the servants to the hall long after they had retired. They filed in in various stages of undress and looked in bewilderment at one another when informed that a valuable diamond-and-emerald necklace wasmissing from Lady Mayhew’s jewelry case. Since no one admitted to the theft, Roger suggested that all the servants’ rooms be searched. They were sent to their rooms shortly afterward to wait for Lord Roger and his father to conduct the search.
Moira waited on pins and needles. She wasn’t really worried, knowing that she wasn’t guilty, but this whole matter made her distinctly uneasy. She recalled Lord Roger’s threat and feared his reprisal.
Lord Roger and his father arrived in due time. They searched through her meager belongings first and found nothing. Then Roger sent her a smug look and turned back her thin straw mattress. Beneath it he found the necklace still encased in its velvet bag. Moira let out a cry of dismay.
“It can’t be! I swear I didn’t steal the necklace.”
Saddened, Lord Justin looked at Moira and shook his
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