Earl of Baxter (Lords of Scandal 8)

“The first door on the left,” Logan whispered.

Jensen gave a swift knock on the door.

“Who is it?” a voice called from inside. Haughty and cold, Mason knew the sound of that voice anywhere. Byron.

“It’s me,” Jensen called back.

“Who?” Byron snapped and then the door swung open.

It was over before it had even begun. In a matter of seconds Jensen and Hastings had the priest pinned to the floor. Mason didn’t even look at the man as he stepped into the filthy stinkhole. Scattered on the desk were various pieces of parchment. Picking one up, his hand closed into a fist. He’d been attempting to write another letter to Clarissa. This one detailing an exact drop location for the money.

Mason let out a cold laugh. “This is all the proof you’ll need, gentleman.”

“Proof?” Byron shrieked. “I’m only asking for what’s mine. She stole from me. I—”

Mason let out a snarl of protest. “Never speak of the countess like that.”

“Countess?” Byron’s eyes widened from his spot on the floor. “You married her?”

“I did.” He drew up to full height despite the ache in his side. “I told you five years ago you’d pay for your crimes. He had me shot. He was attempting to extort money from my wife. Before that, he abused the children under his care.”

“That’s enough for me,” Jensen said. He pulled Byron from the floor and began escorting him outside. “You’re coming with me.”

Hastings looked over at Mason. “What did he mean that your wife owed him?”

The room stilled as both Logan and Bash looked over at him. But Mason gave an easy smile. “I sent him to a tiny Scottish island after what he did to her. Since then, he’s created some wild story about her stealing from him. This woman is the same one who’s been running an orphanage in London. Plans to open several more. He’s attempting to denigrate her character in revenge.”

Hastings gave a quick nod. “Been harassing her since her friend married the Earl of Goldthwaite?”

“That’s correct,” Logan answered. “Tried to burn down the orphanage with the children inside.”

“Scum.” Jensen spit. “Probably thought he’d found his golden goose.”

Mason nodded, relief making his shoulders dip. It was over. Clarissa was safe now and forever.

The rest of their life could begin.

Epilogue

April 1822

Eight months later…

*

* *

Mason sat behind his desk at the new location of the Wicked Earls’ Club, a satisfied smile gracing his lips as he assessed his latest handiwork. The interior of the new location was nearly identical to the previous location. Dark wood paneling lined all the walls, rich and gleaming.

His office was near the large ballroom that graced the second floor. Tucked in a quiet corner, it allowed him to observe the happenings of his Wicked Earls while being mostly unseen.

A knock sounded at the door and the Earl of Alnwick entered, his flashing grin reminding Mason how wicked many of the men were. That was fine. They didn’t know what was headed their way.

“The earls are all here.” The man said. “They barely fit, even in that large room.”

Mason tipped back in his chair. He’d invited all the members, old and new, to see the new location. The old members were essential to his plan. “Excellent. I’ll be out in just a moment.”

Alnwick paused. “I wasn’t sure about moving the club. We’d operated in the old location for a long time.”