A Matter of Temptation Read Free Page A

about in that section of the house.”
    “All the servants are already abed.”
    Except for the man standing at his door. Good.
    “Then deliver my message to Mr. Matthews and take yourself to bed as well.”
    “Yes, Your Grace.”
    He listened as the butler’s footsteps faded away. He returned to the bed, opened the draperies, yanked the pillow away, looked at his brother, and smiled. “I say, John, you have a most loyal ally in Mr. Matthews. What did it cost you to hire him to ensure Prisoner D3, 10 was never given freedom?”
    Looking at his brother, during that moment, he almost changed his mind. He almost said, “Let’s talk, let’s work this out. I am the rightful heir, but I will take care of you. I’d always planned to see to your needs without question.”
    But then he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror. His brother had taken eight years of his life. Robert had no plans to be that cruel, to leave his brother languishing in hell for that long.
    But what would a few weeks hurt?
     
    Several hours later, Robert awoke with a start, disoriented, his heart thundering. The bed was too soft, the room too large. Slowly, it all came back to him.
    His escape.
    His hiding in the shadows.
    His creeping into the house.
    His finding John, asleep, unsuspecting.
    The warder arriving just after midnight to let the duke know that Prisoner D3, 10 had escaped. Knocking John unconscious with a good solid punch had gone a long way toward appeasing his anger at the time, but now the fury was roiling through him again, and he worked hard to squash it. It had been festering for far too long. He’d used it last night, used it to exact his revenge.
    He’d always thought revenge was supposed to be sweet. He was surprised to discover that it tasted bitter. He shook off the guilt. He’d given John what he deserved. It was only fair, and he’d be damned before he’d feel guilty about the actions he’d taken—although truth be told, he’d already been damned, twice over by his brother’s cruelty.
    Lying still, he listened to his own rapid breathing, his heartbeat thrumming between his ears. Then the sweet song of a lark. Outside the window. Was that what had awakened him?
    Relaxing his taut muscles, he inhaled deeply, a fragrance so pure that if he were a sentimental man he might have wept. But he feared whatever tendency toward sentiment he might have once possessed had been brutally stolen from him.
    Still he could appreciate the scent of cleanliness and the comfort brought by a soft, feather mattress beneath his back. Tonight he intended to enjoy the feel of a soft, warm woman beneath his body. Tonight he would indulge in all the viceshe’d been denied by his brother’s calculating schemes. Denied through no fault of his. It was an aspect of this entire untenable situation that nagged at him.
    Had he done something to deserve his brother’s unjust treatment? He’d committed no crime, harmed no one. He’d gone to school, studied hard. He’d learned manners, etiquette, and protocol. He’d been prepared to step into his father’s shoes when his father left this earth—which he’d assumed would be after a long life—but until that precise moment he carried out his duties and responsibilities with the proper decorum expected of the heir apparent.
    He’d been an exemplary firstborn son. Was it his striving to make his parents proud that had turned John against him? Or was it simply his entry into the world first? It was hardly something over which he’d had control. Come to think of it, he’d had no say in a good part of his life. Obligations were thrust upon him, and duty dictated that he accept and meet them head on, never shirking his responsibilities.
    And yet he’d been unjustly punished and found himself in the untenable position of having to prove who he was and taking some recourse to ensure that he managed to hold on to the dukedom. He had little doubt that John would attempt to usurp him with some