by Jaimey Grant
“Release me at once, sir!” she commanded, pushing at his arms with little result.
“Why?” he asked, truly curious. Her eyes widened, lips pinching in at the corners. As her fingers clenched on his arms, he realized what he was seeing. Fear.
He released her and stepped back. “We must talk,” he murmured, looking around. The maids stood in the drawing room, watching them with acute interest. A footman lingered behind them in the corridor listening unashamedly and the butler was still within hearing distance. He leaned forward, whispering in her ear, “Do you trust your servants?”
“No, sir, not at all.” She appeared surprised at her own admission.
He muttered a curse. Why had he not thought about that when he realized who she was? Probably because he had believed her guilty just as his superiors did. “They are not really your servants, are they?” he asked, assuming they were her husband’s.
“No,” she said. “But it is useless for us to talk. I do not even know who you are.”
He looked down at her with a sweet smile. “I am someone who wants to help you,” he whispered, his eyes sweeping her lush form. An idea blossomed in his mind that he couldn’t help but admire. “Do you trust me?”
Her eyebrows shot upward, then back down into a frown. “I barely know you. But you did save me from—”
Before the last words were out of her mouth, Malvina found herself being thoroughly kissed. She protested until she felt the warning pressure of his hand at her waist. So she stood very still and allowed him to do what he wanted until his tongue pushed past her lips. Strange heat spread through her limbs at the intimate contact, a remembered sensation from early in her marriage.
But this time it was different. This man was different, more exciting, intriguing, and appealing than her late husband. Her attraction to him was illogical and inappropriate, but she had no desire to stop, no desire to think.
Instead of pushing him away with indignant exclamations of outrage, she drew him closer, kissing him back. He swept her up into his arms, his lips never leaving hers, and carried her up the stairs. Their surroundings melted away until it was just them, alone, nothing to interfere or shatter the—.
He tore his lips away to ask, “Which room is yours?”
Malvina came back down to earth with a rude bump. What she had just done, what she had allowed him to do, rushed in on her. Without thought for the consequences, she reached up and dealt him a stinging blow. He pushed open the first door and let go of her, his brown eyes hard as rock. The door slammed behind him as she landed on the floor with a thump. A pained cry ripped from her throat and she glared up at him.
“You, my lady, are sorely in need of a lesson in gratitude,” he bit out, a red hand print appearing on his cheek.
Then, before her very eyes, he once again became the lazily smiling man she’d come to expect.
“Is this your chamber?” he asked with apparent interest, his gaze sweeping the cozy chamber.
Malvina tried to form a coherent thought. One moment her entire being was taken up with sensations she’d thought long dead, and the next she was picking herself up off the floor, shaking out her skirts and resisting the urge to rub her smarting backside. Anger coursed through her, some directed at him but most of it reserved for herself for responding to his kiss in such an abandoned manner.
Finally, she forced words passed her clenched teeth. “Yes, it is. I don’t know what you think you… Wait! You are the one who insulted me, kissing me in such a disgusting way! I demand an apology, sirrah!”
The infuriating man grinned and deposited himself in a chair by her bed. “I apologize for disgusting you, my lady. I was unaware that Beowulf was an Immaculate Conception. I was under the impression that Christ was the only human able to lay claim to that.”
“That is not what I meant, and you know it, sir,” she returned, blushing hotly despite her best efforts to resist. “And we will not speak of my son.”
He shrugged, a careless gesture she was coming to hate. “Do you suppose someone listens at the door?”
His shifts in topic dizzied her. A headache blossomed behind her eyes. “I do not know. No one enters here other than my maid and we speak as little as possible.” She sat on the bed and then wished she had chosen anywhere else. His eyes lingered on bed, sending a nervous quiver through Malvina’s belly.
“You have no lover? I am shocked,” he told her, looking far more sleepy than shocked.
“What have I done to occasion such insult, young man?” She kept her tone neutral, as if they were discussing the most mundane of topics, though she wanted to scream.
“That remains to be discovered, madam,” he answered just as blankly. He threw a quick glance at the door. “We have approximately four minutes before we will be interrupted by your diligent maid.” His gaze flew back to her. “I am here to offer help, my lady. Whether or not you accept it is on you. But I warn you, if you refuse, your life as you know it will end.”
Her brows shot up. “How melodramatic.”
Her companion’s expression didn’t change. His eyes remained steady on hers, nothing to indicate that he found any amusement in her remark.
“Dramatic or not, it is the truth,” he told her. “You and your son are in danger.”
Malvina felt the blood drain from her face. “Are you threatening me?”
“If that is what it takes for you to see sense, I am.”
She stood, rage shuddering through her. “I want you to leave, you scoundrel! You are not welcome here and if you dare to threaten me again, I will see you taken up by the magistrate!”
“I am very much afraid you cannot do that, my lady,” he said with infuriating calm. He gazed at her through half closed, sleepy eyelids, smiling slightly. “You see, it is the law that you need to fear and I am the only one who can save you.” His smile widened. “In fact,” he added, “I am the only one who cares enough to try.”
She sat down again with a bump. He was pleased to see he had effectively captured her attention. “What can you mean?” she whispered.
How much should he tell her? His instinct told him she was innocent but he’d seen far too many men die for following just such an instinct. Usually at the hands of a consummate actress.
He rose from his chair and crossed the room until he stood just before her. She leaned back slightly. Her pleasing features took on a questioning expression, pale brows forming a V above her eyes.
He took her hand and pulled her to her feet. “We are about to be interrupted,” he told her calmly. Then he clasped her around the waist and kissed her with far more skill than before and for far longer. He actually felt he would quite like kissing her for the rest of his life. And for claiming to dislike the practice, he thought with amusement, she was very good at it.
The door opened, just as he had predicted, the lady’s maid sticking her head through.
Gideon lifted his head and stared down into Lady Brackney’s eyes, secretly delighting in the look he saw there. He was man enough to feel some satisfaction that he had managed to affect her so much. A silent message passed between them and he felt her shiver at the look of anger that suddenly suffused his features.
He let go of her and swung around, his body blocking hers from the servant’s view. “What the devil do you want?” he demanded of the startled maid.
“I was to check on her ladyship,” she replied, a hint of scorn in her tone.
“You’ve done that, now she wants to be alone,” he said with implacable conviction.
The maid looked at Lady Brackney for confirmation. Gideon glanced down at her with an unmistakable demand and warning in his eyes.
Malvina knew what he was trying to say. This was when she was to make her decision to accept his help or send him packing. She realized she would do anything to get away from That Man and she knew that her continued association with That Man was detrimental to her son’s health and happiness, maybe even his life.
But she also knew that by tell
ing the maid to leave, she was announcing to the world that she had taken a lover. As much as the loss of her reputation sickened her, she considered it a small price to pay for the safety of her only child.
“Leave, Hilda,” she commanded firmly. She saw something flare momentarily in the brown eyes of her companion and looked away. “I will call you when I have need of you,” she added, sealing her fate.
As the maid left, Malvina wondered if the nameless male before her would actually take advantage of the situation and make their affair a reality. Horror washed over her when she realized she hoped he would try. His eyes revealed nothing, however, and she waited for him to speak.
“Well done, Lady Brackney,” he said with a sleepy smile. He returned to his seat and stretched his long legs out before him. “And now, I think you should tell me exactly what it is you are involved in.”
“Can you not tell me who you are?” she asked. Instead of sitting again on the bed, she went to sit across from him in the chair that matched his.
“You may call me Gideon,” he offered. He looked around the room. “Do you clean your own chambers or do the servants hold these rooms as some sort of shrine to the god of cleanliness?”
A smile forced its way through before she could stop it. “I clean them, sir. I cannot live in the squalor that permeates the rest of this house.”
His sleepy-eyed gaze settled on her face again. “You are to be commended, I think. Why do you remain here?”
Every question he asked was full of hidden meanings. Just how much did he already know about her? He seemed to be simply waiting for her to admit…something.
“What do you want from me?” she asked with exasperation. Why was she unable to hold onto her composure with this man? She’d known him only hours, knew nothing more about him than his name and his penchant for laziness, and she didn’t care a whit what he thought. That Man was far more dangerous and she had always managed to avoid letting her feelings show to him.
“I want you to tell me the truth so I know how best to help you. You cannot expect me to guess at this, can you?”
“You seem to know everything. What can I tell you that you do not already know?”
“You can tell me who you work for,” he suggested.
“I work for no one.”
His pale brows rose slightly. “Then you are taking responsibility for the death of the young man who tried to help you?”
“You can’t possibly know… Who are you?”
“I am someone of no consequence. Are you saying his death was your fault or not?” he insisted.
“No consequence? You know every move I make, every word I say before I say it! Who are you?”
Hysteria hovered close to the surface. A few more minutes and they would have every servant in the house breaking down the door to throw him out.
Gideon rose to his feet and knelt by her chair. He took her hand. “I cannot tell you yet exactly who I am, Malvina,” he said in a soothing tone. “Trust me when I say I will do everything for you that I can but you have to help me as well. I do not know who is hurting you and that is the vital piece of information I need. Until you give me that, we are at an impasse, I think.”
“I don’t know,” she whispered.
He stared at her for a long moment. “No, you don’t,” he concluded with a sigh. He stood, staring down at the worn carpet. “Blast. I need his name. What do you call him?” he asked curiously.
“That Man.”
He smiled. “I see. Have you never seen him?”
“Not exactly. He visits in the night and stays in the shadows over there.” She pointed toward the window seat, which was actually more like a curtained alcove.
Gideon glanced where she pointed. He walked over and looked it over carefully. “When do you next expect him?” he asked, his voice muffled slightly as he stuck his head behind the curtain.
“I never know. Although,” she added thoughtfully, “he will probably appear tonight. Since you rode off with me, he will want to be sure I am returned.”
Gideon turned to her. “So you are not taking responsibility for that boy’s death.” It was not a question.
Malvina sighed. “How can I not? I had everything to do with his death even though I did not kill him myself or orchestrate the killing. I blame myself as much as anyone.”
Gideon stared at her through carefully expressionless eyes. He said nothing and paced back to his vacant chair. He sat down and leaned back, closing his eyes.
A few minutes passed. Malvina wondered if he had fallen asleep. “Gideon?” she asked tentatively.
His eyes popped open. “So you can say it. I wondered,” he said, sleep clouding his voice.
“What are you doing?” she asked, some of her well-cultivated poise reasserting itself.
“Taking a nap, my dear,” he murmured with a yawn.
“Why?”
His eyes closed again. “I need to be awake when your friend shows up, so I will sleep now.”
She felt her face flame. “You mean to stay the night here?”
“Of course. What did you expect me to do? Leave a message for our villain to meet me somewhere so I can turn him over to the proper authorities? As much as I wish it were that easy, love, it is not.”
“But it would not be proper,” she protested, ignoring the offhand endearment.
At that, his eyes opened. He stared at her in surprise. “You are involved in the death of a young man, aid a villain in highway robbery, and you worry about impropriety?” He shook his head. “I am amazed that you have lived this long, all alone in the world except for your son, and managed to retain the innocence of an untried girl.”
Was that a hint of scorn in his voice?
“And besides that,” he added in the same tone, “your reputation was ruined as soon as you told your maid that I was staying.”
How could she have possibly forgotten that? She had no reputation now, nor would she ever be able to restore it. Servant gossip was nearly as damning as the truth. Perhaps more so.
Malvina lay in her huge bed that night, conscious of the man sound asleep in the chair near the door. She had been surprised when he informed her that he had no intention of making their affair a reality but even more surprising was the curious pang of disappointment she had felt. She was older than him. She should be ashamed of harboring any romantic feelings toward him.
Actually, she was very much ashamed. After so many years with her husband, she really had no use for a man. There had been moments of pleasure in Brackney’s arms, but they had been few and not enough to tempt her into an illicit affair with a younger man.
But he was so very handsome. His blond hair curled all over his head in charming disarray and his brown eyes positively danced when he was amused. It was through those eyes that she could tell what he was thinking. He didn’t always guard his thoughts or feelings from his eyes. He merely kept his eyelids lowered so only the truly determined were ever successful in divining his thoughts.
She had no business being determined to divine his thoughts, she told herself severely. She snuggled deeper into the feather mattress, trying to compose her mind for sleep.
Unease startled Malvina awake. Her eyes flew open, peering into the lingering darkness. Perhaps she’d had a dream, she thought. She could see nothing in her chamber, but then, it was so very dark that she was unsure she’d know if someone were present.
Something moved near the window. Heart racing with fear, it took but a moment to remember the man who’d rescued her the night before, mere hours earlier. The relief that came on the heels of that memory was incongruent with how little she actually knew about her rescuer. But really, he couldn’t be worse than That Man, could he?
Regardless of logical arguments against it, she still couldn’t help the inordinate relief, the sense of security. It made no sense, but was unlike anything she’d ever felt before.
Her companion paced, his restless energy permeating the room. Earlier, he had seemed like any l
azy young man of the ton. Now he seemed more like a caged beast, tightly wound, impatient. Anxious.
Daybreak threatened, thin shards of gray light peeking through the shutters. Malvina wouldn’t sleep again, her eyes wide open and following Gideon’s restless movements. Moments of darkness interspersed with gray dawn as he paced before the window, blocking the light in turns.
She pondered the wisdom of drawing his attention. He seemed much exercised over something and instinct told Malvina it was all about her. He paused, taking a single step away from the meager light, shrouding his body in the dim shadows.
Malvina pushed up onto her elbows, searching the inky shadows for his body but unable to distinguish his form from the shadows around him.
“Awake, are we?”
She nearly jumped out of her skin. “Do not do that!” she said sharply to the dark form who appeared beside her.
She felt rather than saw him smile. “Very well.” He stretched out beside her on the bed, linking his hands behind his head. “Your friend is not coming, I think.”
“What makes you think that?” she asked, flopping back down on the bed and deciding not to point out the obvious. That Man was not her friend.
“Word was sent by your servants that I am here, of course,” he responded easily. “He is waiting to see which side I am on.”
“And which side are you on?” she couldn’t help asking.
“Why, yours, dear lady, of course. Why would I be in league with… What did you call him? Oh, yes, That Man.” He smiled faintly. “Could you have not invented a more clever moniker for him?”
Malvina’s smile was distinctly mocking, though she knew he could not see it. “I felt my tone when I said it to be clever enough, thank you.”
