Reginald told the truth. He wasn’t the villain of this story.
I heard a knock and then, “Penny for your thoughts?” Mian’s soft voice went straight to my cock, and I didn’t try to hide it from her when I turned away from my dead predecessors and faced my future. Her gaze dipped and then shifted as a blush spread over her cheeks.
“I thought I told you to go upstairs.”
“I’m your wife,” she sneered, “not your child.” She moved around me, and I turned with her to keep her in sight and watched as her head tilted. “You had the paintings moved?”
“These are the originals,” I answered, matching her bland tone. When she fell silent, I didn’t bother to wait for her to reveal her hand. “How much did you hear?”
“What makes you think I heard anything?” she parried. I moved closer and watched her shoulders stiffen when she felt me press against her.
“Because you wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t.”
“Does it matter? If I ask, you’ll just lie to me.” I wrapped my arms around her entire midsection and anchored her to me. To a perfect stranger, I was just a man holding his wife.
“Tell me what you heard.”
She sighed and slammed her head a little too hard against my chest. I stifled a groan and waited. “I heard him say you shouldn’t underestimate him.”
“I don’t intend to.”
“I heard that too,” she confirmed. She pushed to break free of my arms, and I let her, but then she surprised me when she didn’t put distance between us. She turned and dug her nails into my chest, her eyes desperate. “Tell me that my son and I are safe here.”
I took the pain because I deserved it. “You’re safe with me.”
Her gaze narrowed. “What were the two of you talking about?” I hesitated too long. “If you don’t want to wake up one morning and find us gone, then tell me everything.”
I had more men now than ever. She wasn’t going anywhere, but letting her believe in her freedom was a step forward. I sighed and led her over to the dark oak table spanning almost the length of the room. When I pulled her into my lap, for once, she didn’t bother fighting my possession. She stared into the windows of my soul searching for the truth before I could speak it.
“Two hundred years ago, Reginald’s second great-grandfather, Alexander Knight, turned to petty thievery to help feed his mother, brother, and sister after his father died. It wasn’t long before he expanded to robbing the homes of vulnerable merchants and wealthy politicians. Eventually, he crossed paths with the right people. People who wanted to keep their hands clean of their dirty secrets. His infamy spread, the rich got into his head, and he started stealing secrets. It wasn’t long before dead bodies began to turn up.”
“How did the book happen?”
“His clients were paying him so much they began to believe they could control him, and for a while, they did.”
“So he wrote the book as blackmail.”
“It worked like a charm for most. Those who sought to challenge him disappeared while others set a gruesome example. After that, my uncle was more than infamous. He was feared.”
“And people still trusted him?”
“He was good at what he did. The promise of gain outweighed their fear of him. Some people even tried to bribe him with more money to keep their exploits from the book, but he wasn’t willing to give up the power he held. By then, he’d lost sight of why he started stealing in the first place. He was addicted to his new life. So much so, he didn’t produce his heir until he was fifty-six.”
“How did he swing that?”
“He married a girl half his age and bred her.”
“The men in your family really know how to woo,” she drawled sardonically.
I pinched her thigh and continued. “Archibald didn’t inherit until he was twenty-five. Alexander was eighty-one and far past his prime, but it didn’t hinder him. A few had entertained the thought that he was even immortal.”
“Why didn’t he pass the torch sooner?”
“Archibald was frivolous.”
“His father didn’t trust him,” she stated bluntly.
“He was right not to. Archibald is responsible for this estate and as beautiful as it is, it plunged this family into a financial hole so deep, Archibald became desperate enough to bribe.”
“He kept jobs out of the book?”
“Only if they could pay the price, but when it wasn’t enough to cover the debt, he tried to sell the book.”
She shifted, and I struggled to ignore what the feel of her ass moving over my cock did to me. “What happened?”
“Alec, my second great-grandfather, found out and confronted him. Archibald had him killed.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered woefully.
I shrugged. Mourning was for those who had something to miss. Blood tied us together not affection. “Adan, his son and my great-grandfather, took his head.” I left out the part about mine now being on the chopping block.