Just a Little Temptation Page 12

  Stephen’s alarm shot to dizzying heights when he put on his spectacles and saw just how anxious Mrs. Ross looked. “She’s what?”

  “Missing.” Mrs. Ross raised her voice. “Possibly since last night, since the concert.”

  “But she was in one of the carriages that took us home, wasn’t she?” Stephen sat, exposing more of himself and Max than he would have liked to as he did. He was still erect and growing more uncomfortable in body and spirit by the moment. Guilt flayed him. He’d known something like this would happen if he let himself go.

  “I asked about Jane,” Max said, sitting as well and glancing awkwardly around, as though he wanted to get out of bed but didn’t dare to with Mrs. Ross right there and the evidence of his orgasm a little too apparent. “I was told she was in that middle carriage.”

  “Whether she was or not, she isn’t here now,” Mrs. Ross said. “So get up and come out to the great hall right away.” She turned to go, but paused in the doorway, pivoting back to face them. “But finish up first,” she said with grim practicality. “You’ll be in no shape to tackle a crisis with blue balls.”

  She sailed out of the room, shutting the door loudly behind her.

  Stephen let out a breath, sinking back against the headboard and rubbing a hand over his face. It was all his fault. He knew better, but he’d put himself first yet again, and disaster had befallen. It made his soul feel like shattered glass as he surged forward in an attempt to climb over Max and out of bed.

  “Where are you going?” Max stopped him with a hand to his chest.

  Stephen blinked at him incredulously. “To find Jane,” he answered. Flickers of resentment licked at his insides like flames as he stared at Max, but he forced himself to let go of it all. It was his fault, not Max’s, that they’d ended up as they were.

  “First things first,” Max said with a serious look, peeling back the bedcovers to expose Stephen’s cock, still standing straight up against his belly. Max reached for it, curling a hand around him and stroking.

  “What are you doing?” Stephen gasped, caught between his instinct to pull away and the pleasure that thundered through him, just as he battled between his instinct to tell Max to leave him to his responsibilities and his desperate need to hold him close.

  “Mrs. Ross is right,” Max said. “You won’t be able to properly concentrate with a cockstand, so….” He jerked harder.

  It was one of the oddest moments of Stephen’s life. His body responded eagerly to his lover’s touch while his mind raced off to the crisis at hand. And yet, in a completely unconventional way, the intimacy of the utilitarian act was even more powerful than the most romantic of private moments. It was as if it were a sign that Max might make it easier for him to fulfill his responsibilities instead of holding him back. But the guilt of the past refused to leave him entirely. He was grateful to be close enough to coming already that it didn’t take long for him to find relief.

  “Do you have a clean shirt I could borrow?” Max asked when they finally made it out of bed and washed up as best they could without a full bath.

  “I should.”

  The fact that they wore the same size shirts settled into the back of Stephen’s mind as they rushed to dress. He would contemplate how sweet it was that they were of a size where they could share clothes later. In that moment, all that mattered was Jane.

  “Who was the last person to see her?” he asked several minutes later, as he and Max marched into the great hall.

  The girls were all seated at the two long tables, finishing up their simple breakfast. Most of them appeared anxious, but their faces lit with hope when he and Max arrived.

  “She stood next to me at the concert,” Ginny offered, her eyes wide as Stephen and Max walked past her, heading to the front of the room.

  Annie blinked in surprise at the sight of Max. “Lord Hillsboro,” she said, stepping away from the table where she’d been collecting breakfast dishes from the girls who had finished. “When did you arrive?”

  An inconvenient knot formed in Stephen’s gut. Of all the times for Annie to begin to notice things, she had to pick now. “Does anyone remember seeing Jane here during supper last night?” Stephen asked, hoping to sidestep any uncomfortable questions.

  “I don’t think she was here,” Beatrice answered with a miserable expression. “I’m so sorry, Sir. I should have kept a better eye on her.”

  “It’s not your fault, sweetheart,” Stephen said, knowing exactly how Beatrice felt. He changed direction so that he could give Beatrice the fatherly hug he knew she needed. “Jane is difficult to keep track of in the best of times.”

  “I was certain I locked up before going to bed last night,” Annie said, following Max with a frown as he strode to the head table for a cup of tea. “And I was the one who opened them this morning. Why didn’t I see you come in?”

  Stephen stepped away from Beatrice, letting out a frustrated breath. He would have to deal with that situation now instead of later. “Lord Hillsboro spent the night,” he said, marching toward the table as though his intention was also to fix a cup of tea.

  “He did?” Annie blinked in surprise, then her eyes narrowed as she glanced between Stephen and Max.

  Max couldn’t have looked guiltier if he’d tried. His face was bright red and his movements were tense as he poured a cup of tea for himself and one for Stephen. Stephen was certain he looked just as awkward as Max, but there was nothing he could do about it.

  “Who was it that told Lord Hillsboro Jane was in the carriage with them?” he asked, turning toward the girls and speaking loud enough to be heard.

  “It…it was me, Sir,” Lori said, raising her hand with a miserable expression. “But I was wrong. I thought it was Jane, but it was Millie instead.”

  Several of the older girls murmured anxiously, as if they knew what the admission meant.

  “She didn’t come home with us after the concert, then,” Stephen said, adjusting his spectacles and taking a long gulp of tea before heading back down the row of tables to where Mrs. Ross stood by the door. Max followed him, and Annie kept close on his tail.

  “If you stayed the night, then where did you sleep?” Annie asked. “We don’t have any guest rooms, and all of the beds are taken at the moment.”

  Max sent Stephen a sidelong look, asking what he should say to Annie’s questions. Stephen clenched his jaw and frowned, wondering himself. The whole issue was nothing more than an irritation compared to the real problem at hand, but he didn’t think Annie would drop the matter anytime soon.

  As he reached Mrs. Ross at the back of the room, he decided the time had come to throw caution to the wind. “He shared a bed with me,” he told Annie bluntly, then turned to Mrs. Ross. “Is it possible that Jane climbed into one of Sister Constance’s carriages by mistake?”

  “Lord Hillsboro shared a bed with you?” Annie’s brow was deeply knit in confusion. Her gaze turned unfocused, as though she were trying to figure things out but couldn’t.

  Mrs. Ross sent Annie a frustrated look. “It’s none of your concern, girl. All you should be thinking about right now is Jane.” She turned to Stephen. “It might be possible. Jane wouldn’t have gotten into the wrong carriage by accident, though.”

  “She would go home with Sister Constance’s children if she wanted to cause mischief,” Max suggested.

  “And Jane always wants to cause mischief,” Stephen agreed, feeling more confident. “Let’s go bring her back.”

  He started into the hall, Max right behind him. Annie started to go with them, but Mrs. Ross grabbed her wrist and held her back.

  “Not you, my dear,” she said. “You need a lesson in keeping your nose in your own business. Besides, the girls need you right now, and they’re what’s important.”

  Annie didn’t look happy to be left behind, but she stayed as Stephen and Max fetched their coats and hats and started up the street to the Sisters of Perpetual Sorrow.

  “She’ll be there,” Max ass
ured him as they strode swiftly up the street. “Sneaking off to the wrong orphanage is just the sort of thing Jane would do.”

  Stephen sent Max a grateful smile, wishing he could reach for his hand, if only for the comfort it would bring him.

  His heart sank straight into his feet when they reached the Sisters’ orphanage, only to find it in just as much of a tizzy as Stephen’s. The second they stepped through the front door, it was obvious something was wrong. An air of panic met them, and the nuns were rushing about in such a state that they didn’t stop to greet Stephen and Max.

  Stephen had to catch one of the young nuns by the arm as she scurried past. “What’s going on here?” he asked.

  “Oh, Mr. Siddel.” The young woman clutched his hand with worry in her eyes. “It’s Jerry, sir. And Robbie. They’ve gone missing, and we can’t find them anywhere.”

  Stephen’s gut clenched in dread. He glanced to Max only to find the same, anxious emotion radiating from him. “Where is Sister Constance?” Stephen asked, taking charge as much as he could.

  “In the classroom, sir.” The young nun launched forward, gesturing for Stephen and Max to go with her.

  The classroom was a scene of chaos. Sister Constance stood in the middle of a sea of upended desks and opened cupboards. Several of her older children appeared to be searching every nook and cranny while Sister Constance watched. The moment the older nun spotted Stephen and Max, her expression of heartfelt anxiety flashed to anger, and she marched toward them.

  “Where are they?” she demanded, instantly in a towering fury. “What have you done with those boys?”

  “Nothing,” Stephen answered, firm enough, he hoped, to calm the woman down.

  “Nonsense,” Sister Constance went on, reaching Stephen and standing toe to toe with him, her eyes blazing and her nostrils flared. “We all know that Jerry loves to run down to your disorganized swamp of an orphanage whenever the notion takes him. I should have known that’s where he and Robbie have gone.”

  “They aren’t with my girls,” Stephen said, glaring at the woman.

  “Jane is missing as well,” Max added. “The last time anyone saw her was at the Bardess concert. We thought she might have gone home in the wrong carriage and is hiding here.”

  “I would never allow such indiscipline within my walls,” Sister Constance boomed, but there was far more fear than arrogance in her expression for a change.

  “Have Jerry and Robbie been seen since the concert yesterday?” Stephen asked, ignoring Sister Constance’s show of bravado.

  “No,” the woman admitted, lowering her voice.

  “Were they at supper last night?” Max asked.

  “No.” Sister Constance’s shoulders sagged anxiously, and she seemed to shrink under her wimple. “After their horrible behavior at the concert, the entire lot were sent to bed without supper.” She chewed her lip in worry and regret, looking more like Mrs. Ross than ever. “I should have counted them. I should have inspected them all myself to be certain they were there. But I was so out of sorts myself….” She shook her head, her face pinching with regret.

  Stephen’s heart went out to her, and he rested a hand on her arm for a moment. However much of a dragon Sister Constance might have seemed most of the time, he knew she cared about the children in her charge. It was just a shame they had to go through what they were now faced with before she showed that side of herself.

  “We’ll help you search the orphanage one last time,” Stephen said. “There is a chance that all three of the little ones are hiding around here somewhere. Your building is far larger and more elaborate than ours, what with the chapel attached to it and all. The three of them, Jane, Jerry, and Robbie, could all be hiding and playing a prank on us.”

  “If they are, then I’ll wring their precious little necks,” Sister Constance said with a sniff, standing straighter.

  “I’ll be right there with you,” Max said, sending Sister Constance a friendly smile.

  Sister Constance glanced to Max as though seeing him there for the first time. She frowned at him, as though attempting to figure out exactly why he was there so early in the morning, but gave it up and turned to Stephen.

  “I’ll accept your help this once,” she said. “The children have to be around here somewhere.” She turned and marched off toward the hall, gesturing for Stephen and Max to follow her. As she did, she muttered, “And if they’re not here, I don’t know what I’ll do with myself.”

  Chapter 11

  Max kept his mouth shut as he, Stephen, and Sister Constance searched through the stodgy orphanage and its adjacent chapel. Sister Constance and Stephen wouldn’t have liked what he had to say, and he suspected they already knew the truth themselves. Jane, Jerry, and Robbie were not hiding. They were not playing a game or being mischievous. They were missing.

  “I won’t hold back on using the strap once we find them,” Sister Constance said with false anger as they searched the rows of pews in the chapel, her wimple flapping each time she leaned over to check under the seats. “Discipline must be maintained, after all. Spare the rod, spoil the child.”

  Max glanced across the room at her from where he’d gone to check behind the organ. If he had a foundling child that needed to be deposited in an orphanage, he would have chosen Stephen’s over the Sisters of Perpetual Sorrow any day. Stephen raised his girls with tenderness and love, whereas Sister Constance ruled her roost with discipline and reverence. But half an hour in the woman’s company, seeing the concern for her children that she couldn’t hide, and Max was convinced that there was a heart beating under the dark grey of the woman’s habit.

  “I don’t think a lack of discipline has anything to do with this,” Stephen said, striding up the aisle from the chancel, adjusting his spectacles and rubbing his face. He had grown more agitated by the second and was now pale and wan. “They’re not here.”

  Max left the organ and marched quickly to Stephen’s side. Sister Constance continued to check the pews, her expression pinching with more and more worry as she looked. It was clear she didn’t want to give up the search and that she didn’t want to face the truth.

  “We need to call the police,” Max said what it was clear Stephen was thinking as well. He reached for Stephen’s hand, but Stephen yanked away, not meeting his eyes. Foreboding dropped into Max’s gut like a rock.

  Sister Constance snapped straight, looking as though she might weep. “But calling the police is such a drastic measure. It means—” She clapped a hand to her mouth to hold in what Max was certain was a sob.

  Stephen let out a breath and crossed to the back of the chapel so that he could put an arm around the older woman’s shoulders. “I’m afraid we’ve reached the point where denying the truth isn’t going to help us or the children, Sister,” he said in a rich, kind voice that plucked at Max’s heartstrings. Mostly because Max could see Stephen was deeply disturbed himself. “We have to face the truth that they are genuinely missing.”

  “But what has happened to them?” Sister Constance asked in a tremulous voice.

  “We’ll find out,” Stephen reassured her with a soft smile. “And we’ll bring them home, where they belong. But first, I need you to fetch the police.”

  Sister Constance nodded, leaning slightly into Stephen for a moment before seeming to remember her dignity. She cleared her throat and stood straighter, back to being the sergeant-major she usually was. “I’ll send for them at once.”

  She squared her shoulders and left the room, back to appearing to be in command of the situation.

  Max watched her go, walking slowly to Stephen’s side at the back of the chapel. The drafty old space felt somehow colder than it should for a late-spring morning. The patches of sunlight streaming in through dirty stained-glass windows were more ominous than comforting. The overall sense of gloom and helplessness grew deeper as Stephen drooped, losing the comforting aura of command that he’d worn just moments before. He let out a sigh and rubbed his eyes under his
spectacles.

  “I don’t know what to do,” he said quietly.

  Max closed the gap between them in a heartbeat, attempting to fold Stephen into his arms for a tender hug.

  Stephen wrenched away from him. “Not now,” he hissed.

  Max clenched his jaw, rippling with misery at the rejection. “Now is exactly the right time for comfort and support,” he said, fighting not to sound angry.

  Stephen sent him a mournful look that swept all of Max, as though he wanted nothing more than to find comfort in his arms but couldn’t bear to. “It’s my fault that the children are missing.”

  “Your fault?” Max flinched in disbelief.

  Stephen turned away, a guilty flush reddening his face. “I shouldn’t have given in to temptation. My duty is to protect my girls at all times, and every time I put my own desires first….” He let out a breath, rubbing a hand over his face.

  Max frowned, crossing his arms and resting his weight on one leg. “Every time?” he asked, knowing the comment wasn’t random and feeling a burst of jealousy because of it.

  Stephen’s whole face pinched. He turned slowly back to Max. “Several years ago, I lost one of my girls, Alice. She died in childbirth at the age of fourteen.”

  “Stephen, I’m sorry.” Max let his arms drop and took a step toward him.

  Stephen held up a hand to ward him off. “It was my fault that she ended up with child in the first place. I had a lover at the time, and I gave too much of my attention to him and not enough to my duties. A local lad seduced Alice, but I was too preoccupied to notice or do anything about the affair.”

  Anger flooded Max, but not directed at Stephen. At least, not over what had happened all those years ago, or even because Stephen had had another lover. Max was indignant that a mistake from the past was causing Stephen to push him away now.

  “Stephen,” he said frankly, moving even closer to him. “Even I can see that whatever happened was not your fault, and I barely know any of the details. Regardless, the situation we’re in now is entirely different. Don’t take it out on me.”