Secret Scandal (Trinity Masters Book 7) Read online

  Secret Scandal

  The Trinity Masters, Book Seven

  Lila Dubois and Mari Carr

  Published by:

  Farm Boy Press,

  Los Angeles,

  California,

  United States of America.

  First electronic edition September 2016

  Copyright © 2016 Lila Dubois and Mari Carr, all rights reserved

  Edited by Kelli Collins (www.kellicollins.com)

  Book formatted by Farm Boy Press ([email protected])

  ISBN: 978-1-941641-70-5

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owners and the above publisher of this book.

  Publisher’s note:

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of these authors.

  Secret Scandal

  The Trinity Masters Book Seven

  A dashing thief. A passionate scholar. And the beautiful bodyguard engaged to protect them.

  Eli Wexler is a prominent art historian, a job that under normal circumstances isn’t dangerous. But Eli is a member of the Trinity Masters, and when he’s called to the altar he not only meets the man and woman he’s to marry, but is given a mystery to solve as well.

  Jasper Ferrer realizes there’s trouble coming when he meets his trinity. Given Jasper’s checkered past, he doubts Eli will be thrilled by their marriage. Art historians, as a rule, dislike art thieves.

  Irina Gentry knows what her trinity needs from her—her new fiancées are both art experts, and she’s there to protect them. It’s a job she’s more than qualified for, though she doubts there will be any need for her skills.

  But the task the Grand Master gives them is far more dangerous than it seems. The quest for a long lost sculpture pits the new trinity against a hidden faction within the secret society, a faction who are willing to kill to keep the secrets Eli, Jasper and Irina are working to uncover.

  Table of Contents

  Secret Scandal

  Title Page

  Synopsis

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Epilogue

  About the Authors

  Additional Titles by Lila Dubois

  Additional Titles by Mari Carr

  Chapter One

  When it came right down to it, there was very little difference between fear and anticipation. Eli’s blood hummed with energy, and he tapped his knuckles gently against his legs. He hoped the wide arms of the black robe were loose enough to hide his small movements.

  He’d received the note calling him to the altar forty-three days ago. That was a long time for anticipation to build. Mild-mannered art history professors didn’t have much in the way of excitement going on in their lives—at least this kind of excitement. Academia was always high-drama, but that he was used to. For Eli these forty-three days of anticipation had been especially stressful. At thirty-seven, he’d started to wonder if he wasn’t going to be called to the altar, which had made the letter’s arrival all the more shocking.

  No one would ever look at him and suspect that he was a member of a secret society formed when the nation was still young. A society created to ensure the stability of the fledgling union by gathering business and scientific leaders, artists, musicians, and influential socialites. Up to that point, it was no different than many other societies, but where the Trinity Masters was unique was that members had to agree to an arranged marriage. And the marriage was not to one other person, but to two, forming a trinity. The Trinity Masters believed that a marriage, like the proverbial stool, was stronger with three legs.

  Now he stood in the medallion room of the society’s headquarters deep under the Boston Public Library, and much to his surprise, anticipation was the dominant feeling. The floor, walls, and vaulted ceiling were constructed from huge marble blocks. Three high-backed wing chairs faced a large medallion in the center of the floor, illuminated by a pinpoint spotlight. The bronze medallion was stamped with the Trinity Masters’ symbol—a triquetra—and motto. It was the same symbol stamped into the ring he wore.

  He eyed the other hooded, robed figures in the ceremony room. The Grand Master stood behind the altar wearing a black robe trimmed in gold. A slight figure, the gold chain draped across her chest from shoulder to shoulder seemed too large for her. He hadn’t been at the Winter Gala, where this Grand Master had made her inaugural appearance, but the fact that—for the first time in the secret society’s history—the all-powerful leader was a woman had been widely discussed.

  The figure seated in the chair directly to his left—one of his two spouses—wore white. A woman. On the other side of her in the third chair was another figure in a plain black robe. A man.

  “You have been called to the altar to take the next step in your lifelong commitment to the Trinity Masters.” The Grand Master’s voice was clean and pure. Undeniably feminine, younger than he would have guessed, but laced with an undertone of authority.

  “Do you remember what I said at the Winter Gala?” the Grand Master asked.

  There were two murmured responses of, “Yes, Grand Master.”

  Eli cleared his throat. “No, Grand Master. I wasn’t there.”

  Deep hoods shadowed the faces of his soon-to-be-ménage marriage partners as they turned to look at him. Eli resisted the urge to reach up and pull his own hood farther down over his face. He wasn’t really a party person, so he’d skipped the gala. In hindsight, not a great idea.

  The Grand Master paused, as if assessing his statement, before replying.

  “I will repeat myself, so there is no confusion moving forward. Since assuming the role of Grand Master, I’ve discovered that loyalty among our members is not absolute.”

  They were deep under the Boston Public Library. The only access to these chambers, to the headquarters of the Trinity Masters, was via a hidden elevator. If this wasn’t actually a binding ceremony, if he’d been brought here to face the wrath of the Grand Master for being disloyal, there would be no escape.

  The hair on Eli’s arms stood on end as his heart rate picked up. He was loyal. He’d followed all the rules…hadn’t he? Beside him, the figure in white sat straighter. She placed her hands on the arms of the chair and uncrossed her leg
s. She was bracing herself to jump out of the chair, to fight or run.

  “There were some among us who had taken it upon themselves to cull our membership,” the Grand Master continued.

  Cull the membership? What was she talking about?

  Eli narrowed his eyes, his complete focus now on the Grand Master. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the other two had leaned forward in their chairs.

  When the Grand Master continued speaking, her speech pattern was less formal, as if what she said now wasn’t rehearsed.

  “They decided they didn’t want the membership to diversify, and set out to make sure any legacy members who couldn’t trace their ancestry back to the Mayflower were excluded. They intercepted and destroyed invitations and records.”

  “What time period are we talking about?” Eli asked, ever the scholar.

  Again, his soon-to-be spouses looked at him, but the Grand Master didn’t seem put off by his question. She also didn’t answer the question.

  “That was just one of the things I uncovered when I became Grand Master. There are other…mysteries in our past.” She paused and the weight of the stones around and above them seemed to press down, making it hard to breathe. As if the very chamber would, at the Grand Master’s bidding, crush them. Then she added, “The time has come, the walrus said, to solve them.”

  Everyone, including Eli, let out weak laughs, tinged with relief. The mood in the room lightened considerably.

  “At the gala, I announced that from now on, all new trinities would be given a task—a puzzle to work, a mystery to solve—when they are called to the altar. Instead of returning in thirty days to be formally married, you’re to return only when your task is done.”

  Eli sat back, shocked in a way he hadn’t been since he’d first been approached about joining the Trinity Masters while a sophomore at Harvard. The Grand Master was going to assign them a quest? And they couldn’t get married until they’d completed it?

  “Calixo Garcia’s illegitimate son was a member of the Trinity Masters.”

  Eli blinked. That seemed like a non sequitur. Calixo Garcia. Why was that ringing a bell?

  “I believe the Grand Master at the time helped to bring him to the United States.” The Grand Master’s tone was sharper, the words coming quickly, as if she’d explained all this before and wanted to rush through the repetition.

  Brought him to the United States? Now he knew why that name was ringing a bell.

  “Calixo…” Eli ground his teeth to stop from barking out a million follow-up questions. Calixo Garcia was the leader of the rebels during the Spanish-American War. This unknown son may have brought information or artifacts with him that would provide insight into U.S.-Cuba relations at the turn of the last century.

  “Calixo’s son, Pedro, was called to the altar and placed in a trinity. They had two children, one of whom died in WWII. The other son, Luis, joined the Trinity Masters, but was never called to the altar.” She paused to let that sink in. “He finally married on his own, but still wore the triquetra ring, and told his children, and grandchildren, stories about a secret society he was once a member of.”

  There was a low whistle from the other man—Eli’s soon-to-be husband. Once they joined, members were sworn to secrecy upon penalty of death, or worse. Spilling secrets, disobeying the Grand Master, or breaking any of the society’s rules, meant you lost everything.

  The Grand Master’s voice was alarmingly dispassionate when she continued. “Secrecy is paramount to our continued existence. All members, and legacies, are taught how to keep secrets. When legacies are lost to us, when they don’t learn our rules, in this case because someone actively stopped Luis from being called to the altar, behavior like this goes against our core principles and puts us all at risk.”

  There was a moment of silence. That wasn’t exactly a threat, but they all knew the price for disloyalty to the Trinity Masters. There were stories Eli firmly believed about people being framed for crimes they didn’t commit that landed them back-to-back lifetimes in prison. Scientists who lost jobs and had research discredited, leaving them alive but with their credibility and careers destroyed. And worst of all, people who simply disappeared, never to be seen or heard from again.

  “Eli Wexler.”

  Eli sat straighter when the Grand Master used his full name.

  “You asked what time period. The records are not yet complete, but we know that in the nineteen forties, a woman named Jessica Breton was responsible for preventing Luis from being called to the altar. She was part of a movement within the Trinity Masters, a group who called—and call—themselves the purists.”

  Eli looked down. Purists. A bland name for the kind of people who probably objected to his being a member. Eli’s parents were both mixed race—his mother half-black, half-Chinese, his father some crazy mix of North African and European. Eli had grown up feeling the probing glances as people tried to pinpoint what he was—brown skin, blue eyes, traditionally European features. Tightly curled hair, a football player’s build, and he spoke conversational Mandarin. Together, the pieces of him didn’t quite add up for most people. People called the purists probably wouldn’t think Eli was a good candidate for membership.

  “Call?” The voice of the woman beside him was smooth and cool, just a bit husky. “Present tense, Grand Master?”

  “Yes, present tense. This group is still around, still active. Something we only recently learned.” The Grand Master held up her hand, forestalling the questions that were on the tip of Eli’s tongue. From the way the Grand Master’s hood was turning to each of them, she must have sensed that the others were about to jump in with questions too. “We are in the middle of a civil war.”

  Eli clenched his fists. Meeting his trinity, which for the past forty-three days had consumed his thoughts, no longer seemed as dire. He’d come here expecting an engagement, and was going to leave a soldier in a war he hadn’t known anything about.

  “I am not asking you to fight. I’m merely letting you know what’s at stake. The task I have for you relates more to our past than our present. When the ceremony is complete, you will meet with my counselors for more details.” She stopped, seemed to gather herself. “Now it’s time to bind you in your trinity.”

  After everything the Grand Master had just revealed, Eli was scrambling to find his emotional footing. The anticipation that had gripped him earlier came flooding back, but now the feeling was closer to anxiety.

  “When you joined the Trinity Masters, you made a vow. You pledged your lives to our cause and our way. The time has come for you to meet your partners, your lovers, your spouses.”

  Silence settled over them. The medallion seemed to glow with extra light, a heavy symbol of exactly what he’d given up when he joined—there would be no traditional white picket fence in his future. He wouldn’t be one half of a pair, but one third of a trinity.

  “When I call your name, stand and remove your robe. Eli Wexler.”

  Eli was slow to rise. He was a big guy, and liked to take his time with everything. He needed those stolen moments as his legs straightened, lifting him to his full height. With the kind of single-minded focus that made him a good scholar, he compartmentalized everything they’d just learned, put it away so he could focus on this moment.

  His hands were steady as he undid the hook-and-eye closures of the robe. Once it was open down the front from neck to ankle, Eli threw the hood back and shrugged out of the robe.

  He’d elected to leave on a pair of black boxer briefs, but wore nothing else. The ambient cold of the stone room crept across his skin, wicked up his legs from where his bare feet touched the floor.

  “Irina Gentry.”

  The figure in white stood and threw back her hood. Eli released the breath he’d been holding. She was beautiful. It was shallow of him to care about that, but some primal part of him was pleased. Her skin was creamy pale, a lovely contrast to her dark hair and eyes. There was a sharpness to her gaze that made him t
hink of a bird of prey—smart and dangerous. She shed her robe.

  She was completely naked underneath. Eli turned his gaze back to the Grand Master. A bit ridiculous, considering that she was going to be his wife, but it felt rude to stare at her naked body. He’d seen enough to get an impression of trim, muscular limbs and pink-tipped breasts.

  “Jasper Ferrer.”

  The last member of their trinity stood. The name was vaguely familiar to Eli, so he wondered if he’d met Jasper at one of the few events he’d bothered to attend, but when the man shed his robe, Eli didn’t recognize him.

  Jasper was a hair over average height for a man, but at least three inches shorter than Eli’s own six feet two. He had even, regular features, brown hair, and blue eyes. He looked like the archetype of a lawyer or businessman. Or he would have, if not for the scars that marred his chest and one arm.

  Jasper was wearing boxers, but his were printed with bacon.

  “You now belong to one another. Stand together.”

  In measured steps, they came forward until they stood on the medallion.

  “Hold out your right hands.”

  The Grand Master removed the chain from her shoulders. She brought their hands together, Eli’s on the bottom, Jasper’s on top, with Irina’s in the middle.

  The Grand Master wrapped the chain around and around their hands, binding them to one another.

  “A trinity marriage isn’t easy, but if you love and trust one another, you will never be alone.” The Grand Master squeezed their hands, then stepped back. “I will give you a moment of privacy. Then get dressed and return to this room. I’ll send one of my counselors to get you. They’ll explain the task I have for you.”

  The Grand Master retreated into the shadows.

  Eli raised his gaze from their bound hands. Irina regarded him with an intensity that spoke of intelligence. The corners of Jasper’s eyes were crinkled in what could only have been amusement.

  “I think a kiss would be appropriate, don’t you?” Irina’s voice was huskier than it had been when she’d spoken earlier.