Stolen Kisses

by Suzanne Enoch

  “Dear Lilith, you are the object of affection of the Marquis of Dansbury. And from your foolish activities of this morning, you bear him considerable affection as well. What sort of bride consorts with her husband’s worst enemy?”

  The urge to look toward the window again was nearly overpowering. “The marquis is ruining my brother,” she said. “I do what is necessary to prevent that.”

  Dolph cocked his head, his expression skeptical. “You say your loyalty to Dansbury is in truth only loyalty to your brother and your family?”

  At least he had stopped mauling her. “Yes, Your Grace. William’s ruination would be more than my father could bear. Once the marquis realized how much trouble you had him in, he insisted that I use my connection with you to assist him, or he would destroy my brother.”

  The disbelief on his face didn’t lessen in the slightest. “And did you not consider that I would see him arrested, so that he would not be able to threaten you any longer?”

  Lilith ducked her head, feigning shame and embarrassment. “No, I did not.” She looked up at him again, thankful he thought her an idiot. “I was frightened. I hadn’t realized that you were more than a match for him.”

  “Flattery, sweet Lilith?” Dolph approached again, and this time she closed her eyes and didn’t protest when he kissed her. He tried to tease her mouth open, but she pretended not to understand what he was attempting and kept her lips locked together.

  “I can’t like the way you’ve treated me,” she said, wanting to wipe his foul taste from her mouth, “but I suppose what he did was even worse. At least you promise me a title. All he did was threaten me.” Lilith wondered how bold she dared to be. Dolph was self-centered and arrogant, but he wasn’t stupid. “So I suppose that, ungentlemanly as you are, I owe you a debt of thanks.”

  With a smile, Dolph reached up to run his hands over her breasts through her green muslin. “If you truly want to thank me for rescuing you from Dansbury, I can think of a way.” He leaned forward again, licking the base of her throat and the line of her jaw.

  Jack could touch her like that, but no one else. She was supposed to be maidenly and pure, so she flinched wildly and backed toward the door again. “Your Grace, we are not yet married!” she protested.

  “But what of the debt you owe me?” he pursued, grabbing her wrists and jerking her up against him.

  “That is hardly reason enough to anticipate our vows, Your Grace!”

  She could feel his growing arousal through her skirt, and fought down an expression of loathing. She glanced toward the window again, but there was no sign of Jack. With all her heart she hoped he was listening, and that she could get him the confession he needed.

  Pretending to be swayed by his rough embrace, Lilith said breathlessly, “But I certainly prefer you to your uncle—I couldn’t stand to be touched by that old man.”

  Dolph nuzzled her neck wetly, his hands roaming down her back to her buttocks. “Then you owe me an even larger debt, my dear—I did save you from being mauled by him.” Dolph lifted his head to look her in the eye. “But don’t think you’ll be able to do anything with that,” he growled, his expression going ugly for a moment. “You’re about to be ruined. If you say anything before our marriage, I’ll make certain the entire ton knows what a whore you are.”

  He shoved her backward, shifting his leg so that she tripped over it. Flailing, Lilith lost her balance and fell to the floor. The duke knelt between her legs and licked his lips wetly.

  Glass shattered into the loft, and Dolph barely had time to turn his head as Jack burst into the room and threw himself on the duke. Lilith shrieked and scrambled out of the way as the two men slammed into the floor beside her.

  Jack struck Dolph hard in the face with his closed fist. “Does that hurt?” he snarled.

  The duke shoved him away and scrambled to his feet. Blood welled at one corner of his mouth, and he wiped at it with his hand. “Dansbury! What in God’s name—” He stopped, turning to look at Lilith. Fury touched his light blue eyes. “You harlot! You whore! You think you can—”

  Jack hit him again. “I was going to shoot you,” he said in a black, angry voice Lilith had never heard from him before, “but I decided that beating you to death would be more satisfying.”

  With a snarl Dolph swung at him, but Jack dodged out of the way and landed another blow. The duke staggered backward and hit the floor hard. Jack advanced on him again, and Dolph dug into his greatcoat pocket. He pulled free a pistol and pointed it at the marquis.

  Lilith screamed.

  Jack skidded to a halt, his eyes not on the pistol, but on the face of the man holding it. “Very gentlemanly of you, Wenford.”

  Dolph smiled nastily, blood turning his teeth red. “I told you I wouldn’t kill you,” he returned. “Perhaps I was in error about that.” He glanced over at Lilith and turned the pistol in her direction. “I do mean to ruin you first, though. I know you’re armed, Dansbury,” he said, his gaze staying steadily on Lilith as she crouched against the wall. “Put your weapons on the floor.”

  “No, Jack,” Lilith sobbed, terrified for the marquis. “He confessed. There’s nothing he can do.”

  “And who’s going to believe a whore and a killer?” Dolph wiped at his mouth again, glancing down at the blood on his fingers. “Especially one who’s just tried to murder me. You’re going to hang, Dansbury. Drop your weapons!”

  Lilith looked at Jack, to find his gaze on her. Slowly he reached into his pocket and removed his pistol, bending to set it down on the floor. A second pistol followed.

  “Jack, no,” she whispered.

  “I’ll not make the wrong choice this time,” he returned quietly. “All right, Wenford. Now leave her be.”

  “Move away,” the duke instructed, and Jack slowly stepped back from his pistols.

  “I’m your prisoner, Wenford,” Jack said in a more forceful voice. “Leave her be.”

  “My prisoner,” Dolph repeated, finally returning his full attention, and the pistol, to Jack. “My prisoner. You know, I do hope they wait to hang you until after my wedding.”

  “I’d kill you myself before I’d marry you,” Lilith snapped. She edged closer to Dolph, her eyes on the pistol. If she could wrench it away from him, Jack would have a chance.

  “You’ll not be fit to marry anyone else,” he retorted, glancing at her. “I’ll have you, and I want him to know it. I’d thought to take care of that here, but I suppose I’ll have to wait until I get him to Old Bailey. Perhaps this evening, dear.”

  Lilith moved closer still and took a deep breath. Then she screamed at the top of her lungs, and in the same second, hefted a three-legged chair as hard as she could sideways into Dolph’s chest. He jumped at the sound, then stumbled as the chair thudded heavily into his sternum. Jack swung in to grab Dolph’s hand and wrenched the pistol free.

  “I don’t think you’re going to be doing anything this evening,” the marquis snarled, tossing the pistol into the corner.

  Dolph launched himself at Jack. The two men crashed into one of the old desks, knocking it over and breaking one of the legs off. Lilith scrambled out of the way, kicking the duke hard as he rolled past her. He grunted and turned on her. Jack hurled himself into Dolph’s shoulders, knocking him back to the floor. Grabbing a handful of the duke’s perfect blond hair, Jack slammed his head into the wooden planks. Then he did it again. And again.

  It didn’t look as though he intended to stop. “Jack, that’s enough.” Lilith climbed to her feet, alarmed at the black fury in the marquis’s eyes.

  “Not if he’s still breathing.” Again Dolph’s head smacked into the floor, and he groaned.

  The door handle behind them rattled, and she started. Something heavy thudded against the door. It creaked loudly, but didn’t budge.

  “Oh, no,” she hissed. Either Dolph wasn’t alone, or Lord Hutton had found Jack. “Jack, stop! Stop!” She stumbled over and grabbed Jack’s arm, trying to pull him off the duke. “Don�
�t kill him! Please!” With only her and Jack to speak against Dolph, it would be almost impossible to convince the law. If Dolph was dead, Jack was done for.

  The door shuddered with another blow. Once more something pounded against it, and it rattled and burst open. Her nerves frayed, Lilith shrieked as Richard Hutton and a half dozen Bow Street Runners charged into the room. It was the nightmare she’d had for the past few nights—Jack, trapped and arrested, and nothing that she could do.

  “Dansbury, that’s enough!” Richard bellowed. He threw an arm around Jack’s neck to haul him backward off Dolph’s limp body.

  The duke shuddered and coughed, then began crawling slowly for the door. Blood dripped from an ugly gash in his forehead and trailed onto the wooden floor.

  “Just one more minute, Richard.” Jack gasped, pulling free and going after Dolph again.

  “Jack, please don’t,” Lilith sobbed. “Please don’t.”

  “I let it go too long already, Jack,” Richard said forcefully.

  The marquis slowed, then stopped. He ignored his brother-in-law, slowly turning to look at Lilith. “All right,” he murmured. “It’s over. For you.”

  “Thank God,” Richard muttered, taking a deep breath. “You’ll have to come with me.”

  “No, he won’t.” Lilith leaned down and picked up Dolph’s discarded pistol. Her hands shaking, she pointed it at Richard. “We’re leaving.”

  “Lil? Lil, put the gun down,” Jack said quietly, moving toward her.

  She shook her head, keeping her eyes on Lord Hutton and the stunned Runners. “I have some money with me. We can be in Spain by nightfall.”

  Jack began to grin.

  “Miss Benton,” Richard said, eyeing the wavering pistol uneasily, “you may not believe me, but I’m on your side.”

  “You came to arrest Jack.”

  “Lil,” Jack said, stopping beside her, “it’s all right. They’re here with me.”

  She glanced over at him. “What?”

  “I lost Wenford about an hour ago. I ran across Richard, and we all caught up to you at the last moment—saw him drag you off. They were in the other room, listening. I climbed out the window so I could see what was going on. I didn’t want him to hurt you again.”

  “They heard him?” she repeated, slowly lowering the pistol. “They heard him say he killed his uncle?”

  “Yes, we did,” Richard nodded, breathing a sigh of relief as Jack gently took the weapon from her fingers.

  “But Alison said you were unhappy when you left her this morning.”

  “You’d be unhappy, too, if a damned nine-fingered butler dragged you out of a nice, warm breakfast room and tossed you into Dansbury’s stables to ‘interview’ some other blasted butler he had tied up there.”

  Lilith looked at Jack again. He was smiling, his lip cut, and his hair and clothes disheveled. “You found him?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “Peese found him. I wasn’t home, so he went to get Richard. Frawley reluctantly verified that old Wenford stopped to see his nephew and shared a brandy before he headed off to propose to you.” Jack glanced at Richard. “That’s the reason I wasn’t hauled off to prison. I’d hire him, if he wasn’t so stuffy.”

  For a moment Lilith shut her eyes. “Thank goodness.” Then she snapped them open again, looking suspiciously at the men hauling Dolph to his feet. “But what about them?”

  One of the Runners stepped forward and doffed his hat. “There’re still some questions we need answered, but if Lord Dansbury’s willing to come with us, I don’t think there’ll be much more trouble.”

  Jack nodded. “I’ll go, so long as Lord Hutton accompanies me.”

  “Try to keep me away,” Richard muttered.

  Two of the Runners headed with Dolph down the stairs. Jack handed over the pistol he’d taken from Lilith, then turned to face her. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

  There was so much she wanted to say to him, but with Richard and the other men standing about, she was suddenly shy. “You’re welcome, Jack,” she returned.

  He looked at her for another moment, something she was almost afraid to put words to in his eyes, then visibly shook himself. “We need to see Miss Benton home,” he told Richard, who nodded.

  “It’s on the way. We’d best get moving, before Prince George sends the Royal Grenadiers after you.”

  “Jack?” Lilith whispered.

  He gave another slight smile. “We’ll talk later,” he returned in the same tone. “After I get this straightened out.”

  His words were reassuring, but Lilith was not calmed. She had seen the expression on his face—he was feeling noble. And abruptly she was worried. He had never said that he loved her, and Jack being noble could deny her the one thing she truly wanted for herself. Him.

  Chapter 19

  It was, William decided, the moral thing to do. After all, Lilith had spent her entire life making sacrifices that caused her unhappiness, for the sake of pleasing their family. He could make a small sacrifice for her.

  He ran his fingers through his light hair to tousle it, and marched up the front stairs of Antonia St. Gerard’s townhouse. What she’d done to Jack was inexcusable. If Dansbury hanged because of her lies, William would be to blame for it, as well.

  He pounded on the door, then rushed in as Linden pulled it open. “Where’s Antonia?” he barked, heading for the stairs.

  “In her bed chamber, Mr. Benton,” the butler answered calmly, shutting the door again. “I was instructed to allow no one but you entry.”

  “My thanks, Linden.”

  William charged up the stairs, and without knocking first, barged into Antonia’s bed chamber. As usual, it gave him pause, because try as he might, he had never been able to get used to the black decor she favored. Previously he had thought it exotic, but for the first time, it seemed a bit absurd. Antonia was seated at her writing desk, and looked up from a letter she was composing.

  “William, mon amour. Whatever is the matter?”

  “We have to get you out of here,” William rushed, striding over to her wardrobe and pulling out several gowns suitable for traveling.

  Antonia came over to stand beside him. “Are we eloping?” She smiled, running her hand along his shoulder, then reaching into the wardrobe to select a blue muslin.

  “Haven’t you heard?” He shook his head, continuing to throw clothes out onto the bed. “No, of course not, you’ve just risen, haven’t you?”

  “I do stay up rather late,” she continued, her sharp eyes watching him closely. “So what has happened?”

  “They found a note. Old Hatchet Face killed himself.”

  For a moment she stared at him, her sensuous mouth opening and then closing again. “The Duke of Wenford? That’s absurd, Will—”

  He shook his head. “The writing’s been verified by Dolph Remdale. Dansbury’s been cleared, and he’s apparently in a black fury about what you told the law.” William clutched her hand over his heart. “I’m worried he’ll come after you, Antonia. You know how he gets when someone crosses him.”

  “Yes, I know.” Antonia freed her hand and turned away to walk slowly toward the window. For a moment she stood looking outside, until finally she turned to face him again. “Are you certain of this, William?”

  He nodded. “Got it from Price.”

  “Jack wouldn’t dare do anything to me,” she said, mostly to herself.

  “You came within a whisper of getting him arrested and hanged, Antonia! And he killed that woman in Paris for less than that. Now, please—get your things together! Once you’re gone, I’ll try to reason with him, tell him it’s my fault, or something.”

  “You should come with me. William, we could live in Paris.” She stretched out her hand and smiled. “It would be merveilleux.”

  This was going to be the difficult part. He nodded distractedly, then jumped at an imagined sound and glanced toward the door. “I could join you there, after I talk to Dansbury and convince my fathe
r not to cut me off.”

  She lifted an eyebrow. “Whyever would he cut you off?”

  He shrugged, glancing toward the door again. “Oh, I spoke out against Dolph Remdale, told him the new duke was an old bore and Lil could do better. Put that on top of my gambling debts and my running off to the Continent with you, and I don’t have a chance.” William sighed, then grinned. “I suppose we could open a faro parlor in Paris. Then we wouldn’t need my income.”

  Antonia spent a moment looking at him, then walked to the chamber door and pulled it open. “Linden!” she called. “I need my traveling trunks, immediatement.” She closed the door again, and leaned back against it. “You are right, mon amour. I will go ahead, and will send you word when I have found a residence. Jack can be reasoned with, but your odds of pacifying him are better than mine right now.”

  William was just barely able to keep the triumphant grin from his face. He nodded solemnly. “I’ll attempt to reason with him,” he agreed, then scowled. “Devil take it, Antonia, I’ll miss you.”

  She smiled and leaned up to kiss him. “I shall count the days.”

  “So shall I.”

  William lifted her hand and kissed her fingers, then backed from the room as Linden descended from the third floor with another footman, a wardrobe trunk between them. With a nod to the butler, William headed downstairs and out the front door. Outside he swung up on Thor and turned for home. It hadn’t been as difficult as he’d thought. Though he was disappointed that Antonia was everything that Jack had hinted she was, he was relieved to have escaped her clutches uninjured. And now, one less witness would be available to testify against Dansbury if it came to a trial. He smiled. Perhaps the pupil had learned something from the master, after all.

  Bevins pulled open the front door, and Lilith stepped inside. “Is Papa here?” she asked, listening as the carriage bearing Jack, Lord Hutton, and Wenford pulled out of the drive.