Conspiring with a Rogue by Julie Johnstone Read Free Book Online

I’m here, but what or who are you trying to forget?”
    Whatever friendliness had been in Rutherford’s eyes died. “If I wanted to remember, I wouldn’t be here. Do you take my meaning?”
    “I take it,” Drake replied, pleased Rutherford had understood the unspoken message. “I won’t ask what keeps you up at night again if you’ll do the same for me.”
    “You’re quite sure?”
    “Positive.”
    Rutherford shrugged. “So if I learn anything regarding Whitney…”
    “I don’t want to know,” Drake lied.
    They walked a few paces through the tunnel before he stopped, curiosity immobilizing him. Rakes didn’t care about past loves. Hell, rakes did not have past loves. They only loved themselves and pleasure.
    He forced himself to continue walking through the tunnel, but with every step thoughts of Whitney invaded him. As he proceeded down Church Street and past the cemetery, he considered if it was likely that she was happy. He strolled through the wrought-iron entrance into the walled garden of All Saints Abbey and paused under the main door.
    A marble statue of Gabriel guarded the abbey. Gabriel held a staff and his foot rested on a fallen Satan. Drake tried to really see the magnificent sculpture, but he saw Whitney’s face in his head instead. Was she married with a child on the way? The thought twisted through his gut like a well-placed dagger, ripping apart what kept him alive. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly and opened them, relieved only to see the statue.
    Rutherford quirked an eyebrow but said nothing. Drake was grateful and embarrassed. He offered no explanation since one was not demanded. Instead, he followed in silence as Rutherford made his way through winding hallways and into the room where Drake knew he was supposed to choose and bed another woman.
    Standing in the circle of the silent Sainted Order, he wondered if he could go through with bedding another woman. He was allowing himself to be pathetic and weak. He was neither of those things. Lord Cadogan, Saint Lucifer, beckoned him forward to meet a man who was new to the group. Drake forced himself to relax, and then he stepped into the light of two torches.
    “Mr. Sutherland, you’ve a fellow comrade tonight also wishing to join our club. This is Mr. Roger Wentworth.” Lord Cadogan gestured. The man came forward, but Drake’s attention was not on him. Drake squinted into the darkness past Mr. Wentworth. Was that— Damn it all. He
was
seeing correctly. What the hell was the supposedly happily married Duke of Primwitty doing standing in a circle of men addicted to vice?
    “Sutherland, are Americans always this rude?”
    Drake jerked his gaze from Primwitty to Cadogan’s smirking face. “I said, introduce yourself to Mr. Wentworth.”
    Drake fixed his gaze on the shadows where Mr. Wentworth stood. “I’m Drake Sutherland.”
    After a brief pause, Mr. Wentworth stepped into the light. Jesus . Drake would have stayed shocked if a strange desire hadn’t stirred. He flinched in disgust.
    Mr. Wentworth looked like no man Drake had ever seen. Wide amber eyes framed by long, sooty lashes stared at him. High cheekbones accentuated a perfect oval face. The man reminded Drake of Whitney. This was a nightmare. He wanted to be a rake, not a depraved lunatic.
    “Mr. Wentworth.” Drake tilted his head while stepping back into the circle to avoid contact with the gentleman.
    “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Mr. Wentworth said. Something about the man’s voice sounded unnatural to Drake, but he dismissed the oddity. With the disturbing thoughts that had just filtered through his head, who was he to judge anyone?
    Cadogan clapped his hands together. “Tonight I have a special treat in honor of our two new recruits. We’ll enjoy the pleasures of the night in pairs. Sutherland―” Cadogan turned, his eyes two orbs of wicked amusement. “You’ll be in the confessional and your partner is Wentworth. Monique will service both of