Before he left, he went over to his books and pulled down his copy of Debrett’s. Her name wasn’t familiar, which said precisely nothing, other than he’d never had business dealings with her family. But he’d figure out just who she was on his way to Vic’s store. If she was in any sort of danger . . . so help the person who laid one bloody finger on her. He’d break each of the man’s fingers himself, and then bloody his face worse than he’d done to Dev.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Amelia curled her fingers tighter around the heavy drapes that enclosed the changing room where she’d been set up with a number of dresses to try. A shop girl stood behind her, yanking tight on the strings of a new corset. This corset was quite snug compared to the one she normally wore—that one had been well worn and had probably loosened over the past year. This one felt . . . impossible.
The girl tugged again, causing the air to whoosh from Amelia’s lungs. Though she wanted to ask the girl to leave it loose, she refused to show any weakness when Victoria Newgate sat delicately in a chair, sipping tea as she watched Amelia with feigned interest. There was a look of disappointment in the woman’s cat-like green eyes, only Amelia couldn’t figure out what had put the other woman off her. Victoria could not possibly know what Nick and Amelia had done, so maybe she was reading that disappointment incorrectly.
“It simply will not do, Louisa,” Victoria said as she stood, shooing the shop girl away as she approached Amelia. “Retrieve the twenty-one inch,” Victoria told the girl, leaving Amelia alone with the woman who, by all appearances, immensely disliked her. It had taken every bit of courage Amelia had to come to the shop today.
Amelia let go of the curtain and reached behind her to release the ties on the corset. She took in a full, relieved breath when it sat loose around her torso. To her surprise, Victoria turned her around and pulled open the front of the corset, taking it off Amelia. Victoria laid the delicate material flat on a table to straighten the strings.
“It’s all the rage to cinch down below a twenty,” Victoria said. “If we cannot do that, I’m afraid the selection for your wardrobe shrinks drastically. Perhaps we can let out a few dresses if they are truly needed, but as it is, I will have to place an order.”
It didn’t surprise Amelia in the least that this woman would insult her. Though her words stung, Amelia didn’t show how uncomfortable she was in Victoria’s presence. “Why are you helping me at all when it’s apparent that is the last thing you want to do?” Amelia asked.
“Because Nick asked me to,” Victoria said, as if that was answer enough.
“And do you always do as he asks? Even when it is clear that you would rather be anywhere else but here with me?” Amelia snapped her mouth shut. It wasn’t like her to be so candid or unkind. She knew why this woman didn’t like her, and while Victoria might not know that Amelia and Nick’s relationship had developed into something Amelia couldn’t even put into words, this woman had only one reason to dislike her: Amelia could spend time with Nick as often as she liked and would attend functions that Victoria had once attended. But was that really reason for Victoria to dislike her? It seemed petty.
“I’m a businesswoman, Miss Grant. I do what I need to do to keep my shop brimming over with business. If that means catering to a few people I have no inclination to like, then that is what I will do.”
“Well, I am glad for that clarification. I would not want to think there was a chance you and I could become fast friends,” Amelia said, not caring to guard her tongue now. She had never met anyone so . . . so obstinate and rude and spiteful.
“I know your type,” Victoria said. “You have wormed your way into the house of one of the richest men in England, and I know you plan to seduce your way into his pocketbook. I’m looking out for Nick’s best interests, as a friend would do.”
Amelia’s mouth flapped, at a loss for words. That was the last thing she’d ever expected or wanted from Nick, though Victoria would have no reason to believe anything Amelia said that contradicted that. Thankfully, the shop girl returned carrying a small stack of corsets before Amelia had to come up with a retort.
The silence in the changing room was almost more than Amelia could bear, but she refused to say another word to Victoria.
The bigger size helped, though it still was a great deal more snug than her old corset. Victoria went back to sipping her tea, watching, and commenting periodically about how to bring in or let out the dresses that Amelia tried on. Not one was perfect, as apparently Amelia was not an ideal model for the clothes stocked in Victoria’s shop. Amelia bit her tongue through it all, just wanting the ordeal to end.
At her wit’s end from Victoria’s insulting gibes, Amelia was glad when the last dress was removed and set aside by the shop girl.
“Victoria!” A man’s voice shouted just beyond the curtain—a voice Amelia knew but had never heard raised before now.
“What in hell does he think he’s doing?” Victoria said with a shake of her head. She strode from the room with purpose, whipping around the curtains that blocked Amelia before disappearing into the next room. Squeals and comments rose at the presence of a man in Victoria’s shop.
“Where is she?” he said, loud enough that Amelia and—she was sure—the rest of the patrons in the store heard.
Before Victoria could turn Nick around, he ushered Victoria back into the changing room. His eyes searched the small room and found Amelia almost immediately. Was that relief Amelia saw in the steely depths?
“You know we don’t allow men back here, Nick. You need to leave.” Victoria’s voice was firm and determined.
Nick’s focus was momentarily pulled away from Amelia as he addressed his friend. “Leave us.”
The shop girl had been edging toward the curtains before Nick had even commanded they leave, and she was gone from sight before Victoria crossed her arms over her chest to glare at Nick. It crossed Amelia’s mind that gossip would start if Victoria left them alone too. The other shoppers present would speculate what was happening behind the closed curtains and leave Amelia’s reputation in shambles.
She stopped that thought . . . she was not Lady Amelia Somerset, the Earl of Berwick’s daughter. She was Amelia Grant, secretary to industrialist Nick Riley. She didn’t matter to anyone, and that brought a small smile to her lips that she wished she could have hidden better or at least saved for when Victoria wasn’t around, because Victoria had noticed. No one would care about Amelia’s reputation, though by the look on Victoria’s face, she didn’t like what might be said about her store.
“I have to insist you leave, Nick. You know my reputation is only as good as the service I provide to young ladies. You are making a scene I can ill afford.”
Nick didn’t seem to be listening to his friend. He approached Amelia but thought twice about reaching for her and stopped a good three feet away. Amelia stood stock still, shocked to see him here and unsure what to do when she was barely dressed.
Victoria threw up her arms and expelled her breath in pure frustration before picking up Amelia’s serviceable gray dress and shoving Nick away before helping her get dressed. Nick didn’t say a word; he just stared at her, as though he had a lot to say but not in front of Victoria.
When Amelia’s dress was in place, Victoria said, “You both need to leave. I will not have you causing a scene in my store.” She ushered them out beyond the curtain. It appeared the shop girl had cleared most of the patrons from the back area where the dressing rooms were, and Amelia was thankful she wouldn’t have to face the women in the shop.
Nick placed his hand at the base of Amelia’s back, following Victoria.
“Since you cannot be seen leaving here, Nick, you will have to use the service entrance,” Victoria said unapologetically as she opened a door that revealed a narrow staircase lit with a few electric lamps. “It’s three flights, but once you reach the bottom, there is another door that leads to the shipment yard.”
“If this wasn’t important, I would h
ave waited,” Nick said to Victoria but didn’t take his eyes off Amelia.
Victoria snorted in pure disgust. “For some reason, I find that hard to believe.” Victoria crossed her arms and looked pointedly at them both. “I will have two dresses delivered tomorrow. The rest will have to wait until next week. Now leave my store.”
“Thank you,” Nick said, motioning for Amelia to go ahead of him.
“Do not thank me. I will add a hazard charge to your bill,” Victoria said, shutting the door behind them and leaving them alone in the dimly lit stairwell.
“I’m sorry I was here so long,” Amelia explained. “I intended for this to be a quick trip—”
Nick’s arms wrapped around her, and he slammed his mouth against hers. His teeth were harsh, his mouth unforgiving as he stole her breath away and left her panting for air. When he released her, she was left slightly dizzy and confused. Surely he hadn’t come all this way and made such a scene just so he could kiss her.
His hands cupped either side of her face, and he looked into her eyes as though looking for something. What her tired brain should have asked was, why was he here at all? He’d told her he wouldn’t be home until rather late, yet here it was in the middle of the afternoon, and he’d seemed frantic to find her.
“Has something happened?” she asked, because she didn’t know what else to say.
“Yes.” At the look of worry on her face, he added, “I feared something had happened to you.”
“Me?” she parroted and hated that she sounded like an idiot, but she hadn’t the faintest idea of what he was talking about.
He took her hand, and turned toward the stairs. “We need to leave.”
She didn’t say another word; she just blindly followed him down the rickety wooden stairs. When they reached the door at the bottom, he didn’t pause, but he did let go of her hand the moment they found themselves in the courtyard Victoria had mentioned. No one paid them much mind as they let themselves out through a back gate and into the street. Nick didn’t say a word as he called over a carriage and gave instructions on where to bring them.
“Why are we not headed back to the house?” she asked, once they were in the carriage.
“We have matters to discuss.”
“Have I done something wrong?”
Nick opened his jacket and reached inside a pocket. He pulled out an ivory linen envelope and handed it to her. She looked up at him briefly before flattening the wrinkles and unfolding the parchment inside.
Without even reading it, she knew who had written it. Tears filled her eyes. She couldn’t help it. Her time of freedom had been far too short. She looked at the ceiling, trying to hold her tears at bay, hating that her first inclination was to cry instead of fighting back against her brother. When she had better control over her emotions, she looked down at the words, reading them carefully.
“Do you know who wrote it?” Nick asked.
And she wanted to cry even more when she heard the gentle kindness in his tone. She could hear his desire to help her, and she couldn’t appreciate that more than she did in this moment.
She nodded at his question, unable to speak, afraid her voice wouldn’t hold together as she tried to fight the fear that was choking her from the inside out.
Nick reached for her hand, giving it a comforting squeeze.
“Why must you be so perfect and so kind to me?” She looked away from him, shaking her head as the words spilled from her mouth. “If you want me to leave, I can. I don’t want to cause you any trouble. Or anyone in the house. I just wanted to disappear, but it seems my attempt at even that was unsuccessful.”
“You’re not leaving, Amelia. I have already told you—you’re mine, and I will not let you go. Not even for this.”
She looked at him then, her tears barely holding. She needed to be strong. She needed to stand up for herself.
“Who wrote the letter, Amelia?”
She supposed she would have to tell him everything now, relive the horror she had wanted to bury with her escape. Relive parts of her past if she was going to explain just what type of man her brother was.
“The letter is from my brother.”
“The same man who promised you to another?”
“More like he sold me, as if I were a cart horse.” She snorted. “Though I think he might put more value on a horse than his own sister.”
Amelia watched Nick’s expression change from anger to barely concealed rage with that revelation. The tick at the side of his jaw seemed more pronounced now than ever before.
“You should know who I am,” she said.
“I know already.”
She looked at him, perplexed. “Did my brother give you the letter directly?”
“No.”
She narrowed her eyes. Something wasn’t right here. “What are you not telling me?”
“Devlin walked with you this morning.”
Her hand flew to her mouth and she sucked in a gulp of air. “Is he all right? Tell me my brother did not hurt him.” Tears fell from her eyes this time, and she didn’t bother to hide them or wipe them away. She knew just how vile her brother was, and he didn’t discriminate against whom he hurt. The weaker they were, the easier it was to hurt them—this was something her brother lived by. “If Devlin is hurt . . . ” She couldn’t even bear to finish that thought. Bile climbed up her throat, and she gulped in air to keep her nerves settled.
“He got away. Came straight to me with that letter you’re holding.”
She wiped away her tears and looked down at the paper. “I was so careful.” Her voice broke at that admission. “I don’t understand how he found me.”
“Shhh.” Nick slid onto the seat next to her and wrapped his big arms around her shoulders. She cried a little into his shoulder, taking great heaps of air into her lungs to try to suffocate her fear.
“I can keep you safe.” His words were a promise she wanted so badly to believe.
But she knew her brother better than anyone. Knew what he was capable of doing. Most of all, she knew he wouldn’t stop until he had her where he wanted her. “I will not risk putting anyone else in danger. I cannot. It would be best for everyone that I leave.”
“You are not leaving, Amelia.” His declaration calmed her somewhat, though the distress she’d always felt in her brother’s presence still threatened to strangle her. The urge to run again was so strong that she glanced out the window, seriously thinking about leaving this instant. She could go to Edinburgh; perhaps that was where should have gone. No, then she wouldn’t have met Nick. He was the best thing to happen in her life.
While being in Nick’s arms kept the panic at bay, she knew it would overwhelm her when he wasn’t around to keep her feeling safe. How could she stress how terrible a person her brother was? How could she stress how dangerous his friends were? Would they be looking for her too? She couldn’t bear to think about that. One problem at a time was all she could handle without shutting down and letting the fear bury her.
“I can see the wheels turning in your head, trying to formulate excuses.” Nick thumbed away the tears that wetted her cheeks. “Your brother is no different from some of the men I have dealt with. I can protect you better than you can protect yourself if you try to run. But run, Amelia, and I will follow you.”
She heard the warning in his voice and wouldn’t dare disobey it. “There’s nothing inside him. No love, no happiness, just this deep hatred that allows him to do horrible things. He is cold and calculating, and he has always done as he pleases, Nick. If he found me walking with Devlin, he may already know where I live. He may try to hurt someone else at the house.”
“Let me handle your brother. He will wish he had stayed in Berwick.”
Nick’s hand caressed her arm up and down; the constant motion helped her breath calmly. When she had her emotions under control, they went inside and locked themselves in the library. Nick sat on the sofa next to her.
“When Devlin came to you,” Amelia s
aid, “my leaving was not a consideration, was it?”
“Your brother doesn’t scare me.” He leveled that intense gaze of his on her, and she believed him. “I have known people far worse than you could imagine.”
She couldn’t be so sure of that. “And what about Devlin? Tell me what happened to him.”
“Nothing more than a scuffle that resulted in a black eye.”
Amelia felt her lip tremble. Poor Devlin, he didn’t deserve the violence that had befallen him. And she hated that she’d been the cause of that. She needed to make Nick understand what kind of man her brother was. “Jeremy always finds ways to accomplish what he wants, no matter how vile the method in achieving it,” she admitted. “I can’t recall a time when my brother was not cruel. Not even when we were young, and our parents were still alive. I would feel responsible if you or anyone else was hurt.” She wasn’t sure why, but she couldn’t admit she’d stolen money from her brother, couldn’t admit that she was in the wrong when she finally got the courage to leave.
“I won’t allow him to get to anyone else,” Nick promised once again.
Could he really? He must have seen the disbelief clouding her expression.
“I know a thing or two about the type of person your brother is. As does everyone else who works in this house.”
Amelia spread her hands out and stared down at them. What had she done wrong? How had her brother found her at all? The name Grant meant nothing; she’d taken it from the side of someone’s luggage on the train to London. Perhaps she should have changed her first name too, but she somehow thought that might not have saved her from discovery either. If she hadn’t stolen his money, would he have followed her? It wasn’t a great sum, but it would have kept him busy for a couple of weeks in his gambling hells.
Her mind hadn’t been playing tricks on her the night before; Jeremy had been in the crowd. That was how he’d found her. By chance. She wondered if he’d followed her and Nick home. The thought that he knew where she lived made her feel helpless . . . and angry.
Desire Me Now Page 17
