Never Run From Love (Kellington Book Four)

by Maureen Driscoll

  Mary looked like she was about to object, but Aunt Evelyn kindly gave her permission. “Of course, you may go, dear, but be sure to take Flora.”

  “I will,” said Mel, as she kissed her aunt and waved to her cousin. Flora was the lady’s maid her aunt had assigned to her. When Mel had first started going to Mrs. Seton’s, Flora had complained incessantly. Then on Mel’s first visit to the brothels of Covent Garden, Flora had flat-out refused to go. The maid had threatened to expose Mel’s activities to Lady Heffner if she wasn’t paid for her silence. So now on the days when Mel claimed to go to her reform group, she paid her maid five shillings and sent her off in a hack to the mews where her sweetheart worked. Mel knew it was scandalous to go about town without her maid, but she had very little choice in the matter.

  Since Aunt Evelyn and Mary were going to take the carriage to Bond Street, Mel had convinced them to let her take a hack to Mrs. Seton’s. Aunt Evelyn had been most reluctant, but just when it seemed she wouldn’t give in, Lady Halliwell had arrived and her aunt had been forced to play the gracious hostess.

  After telling Flora to meet her outside as soon as she was ready, Mel walked out of the house and down the stairs only to encounter another unexpected visitor: Lord Henry Kellington.

  Mel’s immediate reaction was to blush furiously. She’d never even been properly introduced to the man, and here he was looking even more handsome in the bright light of day than he had in the candlelight of the ballroom the night before. She was quite sure she still had dark circles beneath her eyes, which were probably well illuminated in the sun. He looked vexingly well rested. Of course, he had passed out at a reasonably early hour the previous night. He had no doubt slept the night away and given no thought at all to that amazing kiss.

  If he could even remember it.

  “I am in a quandary,” said Lord Henry, as he stood staring up at her from the bottom step. “We have never been properly introduced, nor even improperly introduced. Yet I felt the need to come here to finally meet the lady who made such an impression on me.”

  She impressed him? Mel couldn’t believe that he not only remembered the kiss, but he’d been impressed. Which was quite remarkable since she’d felt like the veriest widgeon. It had been her first kiss and she hadn’t thought she’d acquitted herself terribly well. Yet, his appearance today seemed to be proof that she had. A smile she couldn’t resist overtook her.

  “I don’t know what to say, my lord,” she said, hardly able to believe she was even having this most improper conversation. Yet, she couldn’t conceive of not having it, either. “And I cannot imagine what you must think of me.”

  “I think you’re quite remarkable,” he said. “Not many ladies would have had the nerve to do what you did.”

  “What I did?” Was he implying she had kissed him? That was rather cheeky of him. “I believe you were the one who was responsible, although I must admit I did little to stop you.” In fact, she’d wished the kiss would have lasted longer, although she wasn’t about to admit that to him.

  Lord Henry looked at her a bit quizzically. “But it was you who tried to block your friend Mrs. Seton from entering Dill’s.”

  At the very mention of Dill’s, Mel colored vividly. So he wasn’t talking about their kiss from the night before, which meant he likely didn’t remember it. She wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or insulted, although she certainly felt the latter.

  “Are you feeling unwell?” asked Lord Henry, as he reached out to steady her.

  “I am perfectly fine,” said Mel, willing her blush to disappear. “If anything, I am simply surprised that you remember the incident, as you were rather….”

  “Cupshot?” asked Lord Henry with a grin.

  “Drunk as a sailor,” said Mel, who then almost laughed at his surprised expression. “I am American, sir. We don’t mince words.”

  “Obviously. I don’t suppose that means you’ll allow me to introduce myself and hope that you will follow suit? It seems like such an American thing to do.”

  “But you, sir, are not American.”

  “True. But I assure you I can be a bit of a revolutionary. I am Lord Henry Kellington, at your service.” He bowed to her, stealing an admiring look at her form as he did so.

  Mel curtsied. “Miss Melanie Sutton.”

  They were interrupted by the appearance of Flora, who exited the house and took in the situation with an astute glance. Mel realized the longer she lingered, the greater chance they’d be interrupted by her aunt and cousin.

  “It was a pleasure meeting you, Lord Henry. I assume you have business with my uncle.” Then another thought occurred to her and she was shocked to find it was so unsettling. “Or with my cousin. I shall not keep you from it. Good day.” She nodded politely, then brushed past him toward the street with a curious Flora in tow.

  “I have no business with Lord Heffner or Lady Mary,” said Hal as he easily fell into step beside her. “I came to see you.”

  She couldn’t hide her surprise, but hoped her pleasure wasn’t as obvious. “A woman you do not even know?”

  “Ah, but we were just introduced. I confess I have been most curious since coming upon you the other night and wanted to formally make your acquaintance.”

  Mel nervously looked over her shoulder to see if Flora could hear their conversation. The maid had closed the gap between them and was looking annoyingly attentive. Lord Henry saw what Mel was doing and turned to the maid, flashing his smile.

  “I trust you are Miss Sutton’s maid?”

  Flora bobbed a curtsey and smiled slyly back at him. “Milord.”

  “I do not suppose you could run to the bakery for me. I confess I have a weakness for sweets and would like some treacle tarts.” He pulled out several coins and dropped them into the hand Flora had immediately held out.

  “Lord Henry! That is most inappropriate,” said Mel, even as Flora turned to walk away. “Flora, you cannot simply leave me.”

  “You mean you wish for me to accompany you to ‘Mrs. Seton’s?’” asked Flora with a speaking glance that made Lord Henry look at her. “I thought we was goin’ to go our separate ways again.”

  Mel knew that if she made Flora return the coins, she would have to replace them out of her own pocket later to prevent the girl from telling what she’d seen and heard. Honestly, how her aunt had ever hired such a girl, Mel had no idea. But then she thought of the alternatives to earning a living in service, each worse than the next, and knew she would never have the girl dismissed. But the situation was vexing in the extreme.

  “Very well, Flora,” said Mel. “Go on your errand. You and I shall meet later at our regular time and place.”

  “What about coin for the hack?” asked the girl.

  Mel sighed and opened her reticule.

  “I trust this should get you where you need to go,” said Hal, as he gave the servant a few more coins. “Now, I suggest you go to wherever it is you need to be.” He smiled again to take the sting out of his words, then watched as the maid hailed a hack. Once she was out of earshot he turned back to Mel. “Now, may I escort you to wherever you shouldn’t be?”

  * * *

  Hal hadn’t known what to expect as he’d made his way to the Earl of Heffner’s home to make Miss Sutton’s acquaintance. His memory of her from the night outside of Dill’s was hazy at best. He’d been, in Miss Sutton’s words, drunk as a sailor. It had been dark, and her dress had been somewhat dowdy, with most of her hair pulled under a cap. If it hadn’t been for the brief glimpse of her embroidered stockings he’d caught several weeks earlier, he wasn’t sure if he would have noticed her looks.

  But he would have noticed her actions. Standing up to that harridan reform leader would have been impressive enough even if there hadn’t been an audience of drunken lords in attendance, not to mention Conrad Patton and his burly footmen. But the chit had shown no fear and she’d had the good sense to keep Mrs. Seton out of Dill’s, where her very presence would have caused a riot. />
  He knew very few women or men who would have done so well.

  Now it was the light of day and he was almost entirely sober. He realized with no small amount of relief, given the wager, that Miss Sutton was very much a lady he would like to know better. While her carriage dress was modest, there was no mistaking the curves it concealed. Her stylish bonnet framed a heart-shaped face and beautiful, wide hazel eyes. Soft wisps of her mahogany hair had escaped the bonnet and he hoped more of it would come undone. She had slight smudges beneath her eyes, perhaps from a late night, which was unsurprising given her reform activities. But they only served to accent the color of her eyes. She’d blushed most charmingly during their conversation and he would give all of Arthur’s inheritance to learn why.

  That she was up to something suspicious was obvious. Her impertinent maid was in on it, and was most likely being paid for her silence. For a moment, Hal considered whether Miss Sutton was on her way to an assignation with a man. He was surprised to learn just how much he didn’t like the idea. He didn’t think that was the case, for she seemed just a bit too proper for such a thing in the middle of the day. Not to mention that maid of hers would likely bankrupt her with blackmail.

  But Miss Sutton was concealing something. And he doubted it was simply a meeting with Mrs. Seton. Suddenly, it occurred to him that she was alone and not only was that violating the rules of propriety, but it could endanger her if she was going someplace like Dill’s again.

  “Tell me, Miss Sutton, where are you off to? And please don’t gammon me with tales of a meeting at Mrs. Seton’s.”

  “I don’t tell tales,” she said, somewhat repressively. “And I hardly think this is any of your affair.”

  “Actually it is, since I was the one who sent your maid on an errand. Do you think I shall ever see a treacle tart?”

  “I would not count on it, sir. Flora is a good girl at heart, but rather….”

  “Mercenary?” asked Hal.

  “Certainly not. She just looks out for herself. The world can be a very difficult place for an unprotected woman. She is in service, but there is no guarantee she won’t one day lose her position.”

  “No doubt for when her blackmail demands are too large to conceal any longer.”

  “Regardless of Flora’s, er, peculiarities, there is no logical reason why I cannot go about on my own. In Philadelphia, I had much more freedom.”

  “But even there, I cannot imagine your father allowed you to demonstrate in front of gaming establishments.” Hal wondered whether anyone was truly looking after the chit. From his casual acquaintance with the earl, he wouldn’t have thought him to be such a lenient guardian.

  “My parents died when I was quite young,” said Mel with a slight catch in her voice. She then looked away from him, as if hoping he hadn’t heard the emotion.

  “My parents passed away, as well,” said Hal, not knowing even as he said it why he should speak of such a thing to a relative stranger. He rarely talked about it to anyone and certainly to no one outside of his family. Perhaps it was because he’d heard the catch in her voice. She was someone who understood loss, as well.

  Best not to dwell on that.

  “Miss Sutton,” drawled Hal, with his most charming smile. “I am afraid I must take a page from your servant’s book. If you don’t tell me where you are going, I shall be forced to exact payment from you.”

  “My lord,” said Mel, her voice once again its strong, repressive and sultry self, “I have very little money and even less intention of being beholden to you.”

  “I do not want your money, Miss Sutton. But I must insist you share a treacle tart with me.” He indicated a sweets shop but a block away. “Since Flora will not bring me my treat, I must be satisfied somehow.”

  From the look of surprise upon her face, he’d caught her off guard and he was glad of it. Normally it didn’t take much to persuade a lady to let him escort her anywhere. He usually had to think up any number of excuses to avoid it. But Miss Melanie Sutton would rather walk the streets of London alone than accept his company. And now she looked like he’d offered her Thames swill instead of treacle tarts.

  But perhaps she thought better of her churlishness, because she finally smiled and said “Perhaps just one, my lord.”

  “Excellent. But you really must call me Hal.” He pulled her arm through his, then escorted her across the street and into the sweets shop.

  The small but elegant establishment smelled of cinnamon and baking bread. Hal ordered for the two of them, then sat back to study his prey.

  She must have had some hint of his thoughts – none of which could be stated to an innocent such as she – because she looked away and her cheeks flooded with color. “My lord,” she began, blushing prettily.

  “Hal,” he corrected, as he placed his hand upon hers.

  “Hal,” she said, as she looked up at him from beneath her long lashes. “This is most embarrassing, but I must find the….that is to say….” She bit her lip and looked away.

  “Oh! Of course,” said Hal as he rose, then pulled out her seat.

  She smiled shyly at him again, then set off toward the back of the shop.

  Hal watched her go, then took his seat. This bet of Francis’s was going to be a problem. Obviously the girl had lived a very sheltered life if just his gaze could make her blush such a brilliant hue. He had to figure out a way to kiss her but at the same time let her know he didn’t mean anything serious. Then he had to find a way to get Francis to stick to his original promise to show discretion. But that would never work because the wager was already in the book. Perhaps he could publicly forfeit the bet, but make Francis pay up on the side. But that was patently dishonest. Mayhap he should walk away from the wager all together and admit his loss. He could stand a few jokes at his expense. The most important thing was that the chit’s reputation not be harmed. That meant he had to leave her alone.

  He found he didn’t like that one bit.

  It would be no hardship kissing her. She might be American, but she was really quite fetching. She blushed a bit much for his sensibilities. But maybe that was because the courtesans he spent time with couldn’t summon a blush for love nor money. Well, possibly money.

  But she’d been so innocent that she couldn’t excuse herself to use the facilities without blushing. She might actually faint if he kissed her. But as he’d look at her lips while speaking to her, he’d been drawn to how full they were. How soft they looked. They seemed almost familiar. It was as if he knew what they’d taste like.

  He laughed off the fanciful notion and looked out the window just in time to see Miss Melanie Sutton step into a hack. For a moment, he was stunned and could only look at the lady. He regained his wits and rose from the table, just as the proprietor brought their tarts.

  “Is there an exit in the back?” Hal asked him.

  “Why yes, milord. It lets out into the alley which leads back to the street.”

  Just as the hack was about to leave, Melanie Sutton turned in his direction. Her marvelous hazel eyes widened for just a moment, then she smiled and waved. Hal wanted to run after her, but he knew that by the time he paid for their tarts and reached the street, she’d be long gone.

  He had no idea how he’d been duped. And so easily, too. All he knew was that Melanie Sutton was going to get kissed. Repeatedly.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Mel was late and it was all Lord Henry Kellington’s fault. She rushed up the stairs of the boarding house and hoped there were at least a few women still remaining. Many of them were suspicious by nature and it took a long time to gain their trust. Mel tried to never break a promise to them and made it a point to always be punctual. She would have made it in plenty of time today if it hadn’t been for Lord Henry’s interference. The look of shock on his face when he saw her drive away was almost worth being late. She just hoped he wouldn’t vent his displeasure by telling her uncle about her activities. But she couldn’t worry about that now. She had bigger thin
gs on her mind.

  The house was a few blocks away from the Covent Garden market. It belonged to a very wealthy widow who’d married a cloth merchant some fifty years earlier. Rumor had it that the widow had once been one of London’s most sought-after courtesans before stealing the heart of Mr. Phineas Mitchell. The marriage may have started out one-sided in affection, but it soon grew into a love match. Mrs. Mitchell was said to be heartsick to this very day, some ten years after the death of her husband.

  As a wedding gift, he’d given her the deed to the building she’d once lived in. Mrs. Mitchell had kept the rents low – far below the market price – and through her agent was very selective in whom she allowed to live there. All were women. Many were actresses and opera dancers. A few were courtesans. And all were hoping to transition to a better life.

  While Mel had only met Mrs. Mitchell once, she worked very closely with the housekeeper of the boarding house, Anne Cartwright. Mrs. Cartwright was a former courtesan in her early twenties whose career had been cut short when a jealous lover had taken a knife to her face. The resulting scars had faded, but she remained extremely self-conscious of them and only rarely ventured outside the house. But she was not only an excellent housekeeper, she’d become Mel’s staunch ally in persuading women to turn away from prostitution. She was, after all, the living embodiment of the violence that so often went hand in hand with the flesh trade.

  It was Mrs. Cartwright who greeted Mel as she entered Mitchell House. Mrs. Cartwright was petite, with blonde hair and blue eyes. It was easy to see how she’d been considered such a beauty. Despite the scar which made part of her mouth curve downward, she had a smile filled with warmth.

  “Miss Sutton, thank goodness you’ve come” said Mrs. Cartwright, as she took Mel’s pelisse, “we were worried something had happened to you. You take an awful chance, you do, in coming to this part of town alone.”

  “I can hardly do my work without coming here,” said Melanie with a smile for her friend. “And I do wish you’d call me Melanie.”