The Prince of Pleasure (Notorious 5)

Just then Dare heard a sound

behind him. He turned slightly, raising his rapier against a possible threat as the door opened. His heart jolted in his chest when he recognized the newcomer.

Julienne stood there, her eyes dark with concern.

She stepped into the room, shutting the door softly behind her. She was clutching her knife, Dare noted as she moved closer. He saw her reaction when she spied the cut on Ivers's cheek… the blood soaking into the mattress from his injured loins.

Her searching gaze shifted to Dare's face. "I thought you might have killed him," she murmured.

"I promised I wouldn't dispatch him outright," Dare said evenly. "But you can still change your mind."

Julienne eyed the cringing nobleman on the bed. "I confess I would not grieve to see him dead."

Ivers's chest heaved in a sob.

Dare smiled. "I think you should plead with the lady for your life, Ivers. She might be willing to spare you."

"Please," he mewled, "I beg you, spare me." His hoarse entreaties were those of a broken man.

"Don't kill him," Julienne said finally, her voice edged with scorn. "He is too pitiful. And I wouldn't care to have his blood on your hands."

Dare raised an eyebrow as he surveyed the earl. "You are fortunate, Ivers. She is far more magnanimous than I could ever be. And I expect death would be too merciful for you."

At his reprieve, Ivers squeezed his eyes shut.

Dare bent to pick up a discarded pair of trousers from the floor and tossed them at the earl. "Get dressed."

"Where are you taking me?"

He would deliver Ivers to Lucian, Dare had already decided. "There are several gentlemen in the Foreign Office who will be interested in hearing what you have to say about Perrine and Caliban. After that… I have no doubt you'll be thrown in prison to await hanging."

"But… if you put me in prison, Perrine will know I told you. He'll kill me for certain."

"At least that will save the government the trouble of hanging you."

"Please… let me go. I'll go away, I swear. I'll leave the country."

When Julienne gave Dare a quizzical look, he answered her unspoken question. "It seems our enterprising Lord Ivers has been up to his neck in treason and he hopes to save his skin. He claims to have information about our friend Martin Perrine and his dealings with Caliban."

"I do!" Ivers insisted. "I think Caliban means to kill the foreign secretary."

"Who is Caliban?" Julienne asked sharply. "Perrine?"

"I don't know," Ivers said. "It's possible. Perrine said Caliban couldn't trust anyone else but himself for this mission. And Perrine left town yesterday." Ivers turned his pleading gaze back to Dare. "Please, let me go. I don't want to hang."

"I'll leave that decision to the Foreign Office," Dare replied. "Now get up."

With a groan of pain, Ivers rose from the bed and limped over to the hearth to dress. Dare saw Julienne turn her back and move toward the door, possibly because she could no longer bear to look at her assaulter.

"I'm bleeding like a damned butchered pig," Ivers complained.

"And you expect me to cry for you?"

Ivers bent over, seeming to fumble with his trousers. Out of the corner of his eye, Dare saw Ivers raise a fire poker over his head just as Julienne cried out in warning, "Dare!"

Ivers charged, but Dare had time to defend himself. Sidestepping swiftly, he drove the blade through the fleshy part of Ivers's waist.

A stunned look on his face, Ivers clutched at his side and sank to the floor. He curled into a ball, whimpering in pain. "You've killed me…"