Page 26 of To Tempt a Troubled Earl
Angel suddenly frowned. Lando could almost hear his mind whirring. “My lord, there’s a flaw. A rather glaring one.There is no investment. The whole thing is a ruse. There are no mills. You are not building on your land.”
“Correct.”
Roughly, Angel ran his hand through his hair. “But don’t you see? After he bribes me and he discovers that, he won’t sell the estate. Which means he’ll be in exactly the same position as he is now, except after our blood and demanding his bribe back.”
Lando drifted his fingers lightly from Angel’s chest, only to travel as far as one of the delicately embroidered buttons securing his single-breasted waistcoat. Not used to unfastening his own attire without assistance, Lando was pleasantly surprised how competently he succeeded in unfastening Angel’s.
“Let me teach you something about a certain type of gentleman, Mr Angel,” Lando began. “Knowledge gained from a lifetime observing them at close quarter.”
A second button fell apart under his ministrations. There were only nine in total. In contrast, Lando’s own waistcoat, lilac silk and double-breasted, boasted twenty-eight. A third button popped undone, revealing a mouth-watering crescent of snowy white linen. The fourth fell open easily too; he didn’t understand why Pritchard made such a fuss.
“Some spoiled idlers,” he continued, “are never satisfied with what they have or what they don’t have. Whether they crave a finer stable of racehorses or a pair of double-barrelled Purdeys, a crested phaeton or a titled young bride, there is always someone with something better. Unless, perhaps, you are the king. But then, King Ferdinand of Spain may have even more. Who knows?”
Another button unfastened to the sound of Angel’s breath catching in his throat.
“So, you must trust me when I assure you Ambrose Gartside will want to secure that business deal with every single fibre of his being. And nothing would give him more satisfaction than snatching it from the likes of Sir Richard so he, too, can be held in such high esteem.”
Lando toyed with the next button. “You must appreciate that the good opinion of others is terribly important to a man as high in the instep as Gartside. Losing position in society, for a rake as odious as him, is akin to losing everything.” Tipping his head back, he flicked his gaze up to meet Angel’s.
“And that, my dear, will be the path leading to his ruination. With a gentle push in the right direction, Gartside will destroy himself. We’re simply handing him the tools.”
Two buttons and a stud remained at the top of his shirt. But to reach those, Lando had to untie the knot of Angel’s cravat, a manoeuvre requiring him to sweep his fingertips along the length of the other man’s angular jaw to reach it. In fact, he needed to perform the manoeuvre several times until the knot loosened. On the second occasion, the tips of his fingers had to linger awhile and fondle the marvellous golden hoop at Angel’s ear.
“So, as I understand it,” clarified Angel, still sounding uncertain and deliciously distracted, “Gartside is going to bribe me, and then you’re going to expose him. What then?”
“Greasing the palms of government officials is a terribly serious crime.” Lando tutted. “Even a baronet such as Gartside would be pressed to wriggle out of that. If you were a true official, who knows how the magistrates might disgrace him.”
“But I’m not,” pointed out Angel.
“No. But Ambrose Gartside doesn’t know that. And he’s never going to find out. Nor are the others. Because when he discovers that you have informed myself and Cobham and Sir Richard of his underhanded and unsporting behaviour, he’ll face a far worse punishment than supping on gruel in Newgate.”
“Will he?” Angel shivered as Lando slipped his hands inside his shirt, one of them exploring his bare chest.
“Yes, very much so. Because as well as forever checking over his shoulder and listening out for the heavy tread of the law, he’ll be facing shame, ignominy, and loss of face. Cobham is an inveterate gossip, and neither Sir Richard nor myself are above whispering malice in a few well-placed ears. I assure you that, within a week, not a single drawing room in thetonwill be open to him.”
“That doesn’t sound a terrible punishment at all.”
“That’s because you don’t give two figs what thetonthinks of you,” Lando answered. Lando didn’t care much either. If he did, he wouldn’t be rubbing the pad of his thumb across one of Angel’s nipples.
“When the rumours begin to circulate,” Lando continued, “his creditors will cease with their ever-so-polite reminders and bash down his door instead, demanding debts be settled. White’s will quietly withdraw his membership. Invitations will dry up. His staff will leave when he can no longer pay them. The bank will foreclose on his London townhouse.”
He stroked a finger into the notch between Angel’s collarbones, following the path with his lips.
“Ye gods,” muttered Angel.
“Precisely,” Lando murmured against satiny skin. “And so it will go on until he retires to his cold and draughty entailed estate in Scotland with his tail between his legs to beg pity from his sister and brother-in-law. Never to be seen again.”
Lando tipped his head up at the same moment as Angel’s cravat unravelled in a stream of snowy-white silk. “And at that point, my dearest Angel, I plan to step in and kindly ease some of his dreadful burden by offering to take a debt-ridden, unentailed estate off his hands.”
He hovered with an eyebrow raised. “Which won’t come for free, of course. And is in a dreadful mess. But he’ll sell it for a song and, fortunately for me, I’ll have recently acquired a ready source of blunt with which to put to good use in restoring it to its former state.”
“Gartside’s own money!” Angel ran his hands up Lando’s arms, a wondrous grin of delight splitting his face. “My lord, you are…you are…” He shook his head. “Something else.”
“I know. And, in case it has escaped your notice, desperate to be kissed.”
Angel fell on him, crushing Lando’s lips against his own. His hands tangled in Lando’s hair as Lando wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling him down. As the heat of Angel’s firm body pressed against him, Lando moaned with pleasure, pressing his own hardness back against Angel in return.
“Something is telling me the Chief Inspector of the River is not going to prove terribly difficult to corrupt,” he gasped.
