Sari Robins - [Andersen Hall Orphanage 01]

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Sari Robins - [Andersen Hall Orphanage 01] Page 14

by One Wicked Night


  “Let her go or I’ll see you bloodied before a moment’s gone,” Nick growled, stalking forward.

  “You’re not supposed to be here!” he shrieked, his voice muffled by the thick scarf at his face.

  Nick froze, not wanting to panic the man into doing harm. “Calm down.”

  “No one wants you!” he screamed, yanking Lady Janus closer to him. “Go away!”

  Nick would sooner cut off his own arm, but he did not say so; instead, he studied his quarry. The bastard’s face was covered in black paint. He obviously did not wish to be recognized by voice or features. He had not killed Lady Janus when he’d had the chance, which indicated that he had some other goal. First and foremost Nick wanted to see Lady Janus safe, then get acquainted with the scurrilous dog.

  Never taking his eyes from the blade, Nick shifted closer. “If you let her go, then I will go as well. It’s that simple.”

  The blade quivered. “No! You leave now!”

  “Perhaps we can discuss a trade of some sort…,” Nick stalled, slowly advancing. “I didn’t catch your name—”

  “Stay away!” The bugger stepped backward, dragging Lady Janus with him. If he moved just a couple more steps, his back would be against the latticed wall. No way out except through Nick.

  “I suppose it is getting late. With the rain and all, leaving might not be a bad idea.” Nick slowly turned as if he were leaving.

  The fiend’s arm lowered just a pinch.

  Nick swung his cane in a high arc and downward onto the man’s knife arm.

  The knife clattered onto the floorboards as the man shoved Lady Janus forward and raced out the back of the gazebo.

  Nick caught her as she spun and dropped heavily into his arms. “Get him!” she shouted as the villain dashed past them and down the steps.

  “I’m not leaving you alone,” he growled, watching the bastard dart into the trees. He fought the urgent impulse to give chase. There was likely no way he could get the bastard now. And Lady Janus’s safety was his primary concern. But given half a chance, he’d skin the man alive.

  “Where the hell are your servants?” he demanded. Thank the good Lord for his intuition. Thank Lady Janus for sending the note. Still, he wanted to shake her for putting herself in such danger in the first instance.

  “I-I don’t know. Gillman left for an umbrella. I brought extra footmen like you suggested, but they waited by the carriage. It is not far, and I thought that it was safe….” She raised an unsteady hand to her head.

  Nick decided that he had more important things to do than chastise her. “Are you hurt?” he asked with concern.

  “He hit me when I tried to get away.”

  Lightning flashed, illuminating the trees. Thunder boomed. Nick hugged her close, as if to ward off the violence.

  Looking down, he scanned her face. “Blast, I can’t hardly see you.”

  Lightning flashed again. In the brightness, he saw the line of blood trailing down her forehead. Something constricted inside him, making him thirst for blood of a different owner. He had been pushed to kill before and had never enjoyed it, but he might just make an exception for that black assailant.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked with alarm.

  He realized that he was clutching her too firmly. He loosened his grip and forced his temper to settle. No use coiling himself up; he needed to think about more than just doing violence.

  “I must check that wound.” Ripping his glove off with his teeth, he explored her skull with his fingertips. An egg-sized lump was already forming on the side of her head. A small cut lined her scalp where the handle must have struck her. For her sake, he tried to temper the rage pulsing through him as he considered what he would like to do to the owner of that blade. Nick had always had a problem with men who preyed on vulnerable women. Something about it just made him want to bang heads.

  Cautiously raising her hand to her scalp, she winced.

  “Bad?” he asked, suspecting that it ached like the dickens.

  “Feels like I had a night of merry mayhem without the merry.”

  Some of the tightness in his chest eased. She was jesting; she could not be so terribly harmed. He nodded. “I want to get you out of here.”

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  Helping her stand, he was glad to see that she was not too unsteady on her feet. Still, he hoisted her into his arms, just in case. He should not have been surprised, but she was amazingly light considering her forceful personality.

  “I’m not an invalid. Put me down.”

  “Your balance may be affected—”

  “And your life may be if you don’t put me down this instant!”

  He gently set her on her feet but kept his arm wrapped about her waist. He was not about to let her fall.

  “Thank you. I really am…fine.” She was putting on a good face, he had to admit, but she was shaken. “What…what do you think happened to the servants?”

  “I don’t know. I did not see anyone.” And no one had come. Which was not a good sign.

  “They would never leave their post unless…” Her voice quivered slightly. “We must find them.”

  Instinctively, his grasp on her tightened. “No. We will get you safe first. I can come back and look for them later.”

  “We cannot abandon them. What if that man…”

  His instincts were telling him to leave, and he was not about to ignore them now. “He wanted you. And the last thing in the world I am going to do is give him the opportunity to return with reinforcements.”

  “I had not thought of that.” She shuddered in his arms. “But to leave seems so wrong—”

  “Do you trust my judgment to do what’s right?”

  The question hovered between them.

  Slowly, she nodded. “I do.”

  “Then we need to get going. I’ll not give that bastard a second chance.”

  Eyeing the pouring rain and the darkness, he eased her closer to prop her weight onto him. “I hope you don’t mind a little rain. I don’t think that Noah’s going to show up on his ark to save us.”

  She did not seem to appreciate his jest; she only hesitated at the top stair.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “It is of no consequence. Let us go.” She leaned into him. Her body was stiff with tension.

  He slowly led her down the stairs, and sheets of water poured down, soaking them in an instant. The soft grass sank slightly under his feet, and once on the path, he was careful to mind the ruts and puddles.

  “The carriage was here,” she declared, eyeing the empty grasses.

  “Come,” he urged, keeping his arm locked around her and continuing down the path. “I will find out what happened and do what I can, but your safety must take precedence.”

  Lightning cracked and the sky rumbled. Nick kept their pace slow and steady, ready for anything and more than ready to do a bit of damage if the blackguard returned.

  “God is trying to tell me something,” she muttered, shuddering with cold.

  He pulled her closer, concerned. “God’s been trying to tell me something since the day I was born. I just try not to listen.”

  Doused by the rain, they gradually trudged through the park, side by side. The trail was slick and muddy, and he gripped her firmly to keep her from falling. He tried to ignore how good she felt in his arms; this was neither the time nor place for his randy thoughts.

  As they progressed through the trees, she seemed to relax in his embrace, leaning more into him. She was probably drained from her ordeal. Still, she did not complain once, although he knew that she had to be in more than a bit of discomfort from her injury. Lady Janus wasn’t turning out to be the fancy powder puff she appeared to be.

  Exiting at the west gate, Nick allowed himself a momentary sigh of relief that they had made it to safety. He led Lady Janus toward a busy intersection, where he hoped to find a ride. The streets were deserted, the smart folk staying where it was warm and dry.

  H
e leaned closer to speak in her ear, and rain streamed off the rim of his hat and down her collar. “Sorry about that.”

  “Don’t be. I cannot get any wetter.” Her features were grim. “Thank heavens—at least the rain seems to be easing.”

  The rain had lightened up to a drizzle. The darkness had lessened as well, the clouds seeming to have drifted east. Nick looked down at Lillian, noting the tightness of her lips and the unnatural pallor of her skin. The once fluffy feathers of her bonnet were limp hunks clinging to her cheek. He brushed a flaccid plume from her face.

  “We should be able to get a hackney around the next—” The words froze on his tongue as he took in the state of her attire. Dear Lord, she looked like a sea nymph ready to seduce him senseless! Her white spencer clung to her rounded curves, showing off every nook and cranny of her glorious form. Her generous breasts curved enticingly, emphasizing her hard nipples in magnificent detail. Her every sweeping curve was clearly discernible through the thin, wet fabric. Unable to help himself, he peered behind her and was so stunned that he almost tripped. The gentle sweep of her derriere was deliciously outlined for his intimate perusal.

  He swallowed, noting that his chill had suddenly waned and heat swamped his body, especially at his groin. He pushed away all licentious thoughts. This woman was in his care. Injured, cold, beautiful, hot-blooded…

  He would pretend to be indifferent. A knight in service to his lady. Focus on his charge: safeguarding the lady.

  He cleared his throat. “May I ask you a question, Lady Janus?”

  “Yes.”

  “Was that attacker Kane?”

  “No. Kane is taller, more aggressive, actually.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Her shoulder lifted slightly. “Kane would have knocked me first, for good measure. This man only struck me when I struggled.”

  The distinction was not lost on him. But that she should be so nonchalant about the violence made something constrict in his chest. Kane was going to have to be met, and soon.

  Her smile was stiff. “I am just grateful that you came along when you did. Thank you.”

  “Me, too. But I have to ask, with all that is going on, why did you choose to meet Lady Rece in the park?”

  She wiped some rain from her eyes. “It is not unusual for us to visit in the park, and so I thought nothing of it when I received her note…dear Lord!” She raised a hand to her mouth, her eyes wide with fear. “Do you think that Lady Rece is in trouble? That something untoward happened to her?”

  He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze. “Do not jump to conclusions. There could be a number of reasons why she did not show. This weather, for one.”

  Lillian let out a long breath. “You believe so?”

  “Yes.”

  She grimaced. “I suppose anyone with sense would have noticed the incoming storm. Anyone with intelligence would have realized that nothing unusual is just that these days.”

  “Do you typically meet in the gazebo at the park?”

  “Yes.”

  “And who knows of this?”

  “Well, I suppose all of my staff. Some of hers. Fanny, Dillon…it is no secret.”

  “Why there?”

  “Lord Rece knows that Lady Rece and I are friends, but he does not approve of me. Hence, we choose to meet in not too public a place so as not to ruffle his feathers. It is better for Lady Rece all around, since I am socially on the margins.”

  She said it dispassionately, as if this was par for the course. He had not fully appreciated what Lady Janus had given up in assuming her persona. It made her choices and Kane’s menace all the more compelling.

  “Why did you come?” she asked.

  “I received your note, and, well, it gave me pause.”

  “You thought that I might be in danger?”

  “There was no indication of it,” he assured her, finding it difficult to explain the sense of foreboding he’d had. “I just was unwilling to take the chance.”

  “It was foolish to think that I could continue with my customary practices.”

  “Your assumption was not so wide of the mark. You have done well for two years—”

  “But you suspected that there might be a danger to me. Why did I not see it?”

  “I am an outsider to your daily life. It is easier for me to see things that fit and things that seem off.”

  “Shouldn’t it be the opposite way?”

  “No, actually. Which is why I can make a living doing what I do. If people could see their own foibles, notice the contradictions in others, well, then I would be out of a job.”

  They walked along in silence.

  “I would feel much better if we could stop by Lady Rece’s residence to ensure that she is well,” Lillian stated. “Even Lord Rece could not fault my presence under the circumstances.”

  “I’m not taking you anywhere but to a warm bed.” His cheeks heated as he realized his inadvertent innuendo. “I mean your bed…alone,” he added, ready to bite his own tongue.

  Lillian blinked, taken aback by his slip. Mortification overwhelmed her. Had he noticed her indecent attire? Well, there was naught she could do for it now, and he had seen it all before. And touched her and tasted her…

  “You’re quaking,” he declared. “Here, I don’t know why I didn’t think of this sooner.” Shrugging off his cloak, he hung it on her shoulders. She felt overwhelmed by weighted wool and yet relieved to be covered.

  “Thank you,” she murmured. Looking down, she observed how the mantle scrunched on the ground at her feet, it was so long. “This will not do. I cannot walk like this, and you have no cloak. No, please take it back. I insist.”

  “And I insist that you wear it.” His face had taken on an obstinate glower.

  Well, she had to agree that despite being wet, it was toasty inside from his body heat. And she was no longer indecent. Still, this was ridiculous. “Mr. Redford, if I may offer an alternative?”

  He nodded.

  “At this point, where is the harm if you wear your cloak but simply wrap it around us both?”

  “Very well.”

  Lifting the mantle off her shoulders, she felt relieved of the weight, and a bit chilly. After setting the cloak on his shoulders, he enveloped her in a warm cocoon. His arm snaked around her waist and pulled her closer, and she could not help the ticklish thrill inside her as she embraced his torso. Her temperature rose—and not just from the wool. She looked down to hide the blush that must be tainting her cheeks.

  “Much better, thank you,” she supplied, trying to pretend like she wasn’t half-naked, hanging on him like a clinging vine. She wondered at the faint scent of almonds he wore.

  They resumed walking down the thoroughfare.

  “How is your head?” he asked. “Any better?”

  “It’s fine,” she lied. It hurt like the dickens, but she could hardly think of her aching head with his muscular thigh brushing hers with each step. His burly arm held her close, and he tended to lift her slightly onto her toes when there was a furrow in the road. Help like this could almost make a girl want to be rescued more often.

  As they stepped around the corner, they came upon a small party of rough-looking men hovering in an entryway out of the rain. Redford turned to one side, blocking her from view. She was both relieved and horrified in one stroke. That settled it; he had definitely noticed her indecent state. But he was too much the gentleman to speak of it and was kind enough to ensure that no other saw her mortifying condition. She shot him a grateful glance and his gaze was kindly apologetic, as if he was sorry to point out her condition.

  A warm, reassuring sensation flitted in her middle at his gallant behavior. Nicholas Redford knew how to be a gentleman. He might not have been born one, but he certainly exercised the qualities.

  Her heart fluttered deliciously as she thought of him dashing up those gazebo steps with knightly purpose. Every word out of his mouth, every step he had made had been calculated to prot
ect her from harm. Then when they had neared those rough-looking men in the alcove and he had hidden her from view, it had been so…stirring. Like he had tapped into some heretofore unknown feeling that made her feel safe, protected and yet womanly with power. He wanted her to trust that he would take care of her.

  For the first time since her grandfather’s death, Lillian felt the urge to let someone else drive the unsteady chariot that was her life. To release the reins to another, if only for a few moments. She never felt comfortable giving Dillon the lead. He was wonderful but had a dim worldview that irritated her. She could not do it with Fanny either; Lord only knew where they would end up. But for a few precious moments, she would allow Redford to lead.

  Lillian might have been wet, cold and aching, but deep inside something warm and pleasurable kindled.

  Chapter 15

  Lillian barely looked up as Redford hailed a hackney and helped her inside. He gave directions to the driver, sat down beside her and slammed the door closed. Without even asking, he pulled her into his burly arms and enveloped her, wrapping the cloak tightly around them both. Now that she was finally off her feet, exhaustion hit her like a cannonball. She felt each aching muscle like it was a hawker screeching for attention.

  Her cheek brushed against the wool of his cape, and the scent of almonds once again teased her senses. “Why do you always smell of almonds?”

  He rubbed his hand up and down her arm to warm her. “Most people don’t notice.”

  “I have an affinity for scents,” she replied, wiggling her toes in her sodden shoes and grimacing with disgust; they felt like icy prunes.

  “Well, please don’t tell the gents at Bow Street,” he joked. “It will soil my roguish reputation.”

  “Your secret is safe with me. But I must confess I never saw you as a man who indulges himself with perfumes.”

  “How do you see me?”

  She shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t know. Self-reliant. No-nonsense.”

 

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