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“He must’ve had help. If women kept disappearing, wouldn’t someone care?”

Not if they were poor. Theo didn’t say that; Mr Milnes likely knew it anyway. Theo wished he had Mr Milnes’ energy for this, and he knew his apathy was terrible. The truth was too much to bear but he had to, so he sucked in a deep breath and squared his jaw.

“The staff would know, I suppose.”

“You suppose?”

Theo gulped. “He kept them in the Dower house, and I naively thought they were there of their own choice. Even Rose. I didn’t understand why she was so sad. Then she died while I was at school, and I am embarrassed to admit that I believed the staff when they said she’d fallen down the stairs and I didn’t question my father when he said women wanted to be with an Earl, that it was their choice, and how I had to be careful not to fall for their tricks and wiles. And—” He sighed. “—I didn’t connect how those two things might be related to each other, how my father’s attitude to women, treating them as property, might be the cause of it all.” He’d had no reason not to believe the women wanted him when it was his own experience too; although he tried to let each woman down softly, trying to guide them elsewhere because he had no interest in them.

“It’s probably true. Plenty of women chase the security of a title and the money that goes with it, because they know they are nothing without marriage. Society is a bitch like that.” Mr Milnes was so comfortable with crude language, and Theo castigated himself for noticing that instead of focusing on what Mr Milnes was actually saying.

“My sister Carlynne often reminds me that a woman is merely property and has no choice in her life.” Theo wished he could say something more insightful than mimic his sister. Why did everyone understand the world better than him? He understood being a soldier, had liked the rules of it, and society was supposed to be the same. But he was quickly coming to understand that there was a dark and twisted world beneath the rules. Was it naïve of him to not want to know?

Chapter 8

Adam shouldn’t feel such a deep disappointment that an Earl would behave like a fucking oblivious Earl. How else did he expect him to behave? For some reason, his stupid pathetic heart had hoped that someone who gave so beautifully during sex would translate into someone who cared for more than himself all the time.

“Your sister is correct. Most women in your class are traded like cattle. Titles for money, or family allegiances, and they have to hope that they’ll end up with someone decent. Lower class women tend to have more scope to pick someone they love, but they are also more disposable.”

“Like Rose.”

“Yes, like Rose. She—” He stopped, tired of explaining how his friend had been seduced by an asshole who’d lied to her, abused her, and then killed her. By the Earl’s own fucking father. “I think you should go now.”

“You invited me here.”

“To show you this letter. I wanted you to know who your father was, but—”

“I already knew.” The Earl finished his sentence, and the rudeness sealed the deal as if he’d punched the wax himself.

“Please leave.” He couldn’t look at the Earl anymore. He folded his arms and stared at the door until the Earl picked up his boots and left.

It was not as satisfying as it should have been.

Three days later, the ennui hadn’t abated, and he sat in Lord Horden’s dining room sipping port listening to people discuss politics. What a bunch of bores. Usually he’d get involved, supporting his friend Earnest whose lover Lord Horden was pushing hard to change the laws around slavery.

“Adam. Something is wrong and you must tell me about it this exact second.” His friend Earnest sat beside him, and it said something for Adam’s apathy that he hadn’t even noticed the seat get vacated by whoever had been there for the fish course.

“Nothing is wrong.”

“Bullshit. I know you have an opinion on the corn laws, and you’ve just sat there and ignored everyone.”

He rolled his eyes—Earnest certainly didn’t care for the corn laws—and had another sip of port. Lord Horden’s port was excellent, which meant it was probably smuggled. The idea made him smile; someone like him was out there making money by supplying the toffs with what they wanted.

“What is that little smile for? Come on, Adam, talk to me.”

“Have you always been this annoying?”

“Yes.” Earnest bumped his elbow against Adam’s arm. Earnest wasn’t going to give up; he never did.

“Don’t be an annoying pest, Earnest.”

“Aww, you love me.” It was true. “And now I know you are hiding something.”

Adam sighed. “Fine. I met the new Earl of Milnes-Wilkes.”

“Fuck.” Earnest’s low whisper summed up everything. He knew what they’d done to the Milnes-Wilkes estate to avenge Rose, because Earnest had helped Adam do it. The four of them, even Sebastian who never left his Duke’s farm, had worked together to bankrupt the old Earl after he’d killed their friend Rose. Sebastian understood horse racing more than any of them, and he’d been the one to suggest that they subtly suggest to the old Earl that he use gaming losses as an excuse for his impending bankruptcy. The old fucker had leaped at the idea—quietly hinted by Adam—because the old Earl really didn’t want people to know that he’d fallen for a bad business deal. The Earl’s image would be protected if he made thoughtless wagers—betting was part of being important and rich and he could say that he’d win the next one—but to be conned out of his fortune by a group of orphans was not something a man with so much power would ever admit to. Adam used to be so good at saying something without saying it, except around the new Earl who tied him up in knots and made his stomach churn with nerves and his heart ache with wanting.

“He’s...” Adam couldn’t say that he submitted like a goddamn champion and was the best fuck of Adam’s life.