Powder of Love (I)

by Summer Devon

One side of her mouth crooked. “It would be rather horrible if you and the doctor started babbling about bodies.”

  Reed heard himself growl. “Did he do a lot of talking?” He remembered some of the words he’d said to her that he’d wished he’d kept to himself.

  “Yes, far more talking than you did the other day. And you seem to recall much more of what you did and said than Miss Renshaw does. So the substance obviously doesn’t have exactly the same effect on everyone. Except, well, there is that one thing.”

  “Indeed.”

  They went back into the room where the doctor on the floor was now struggling to sit up. The maid was trying to lift the hutch to set him free, but he was staring off into space, not paying attention to her pleas for his help.

  “Miss Ambermere,” the doctor said and squinted at Reed. “Oh. Hello, Reed. Did you knock me out?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good thing too. I can’t remember exactly what I’d said, but I’m sure it was appalling.”

  Mary stopped yanking at the desk.

  Reed looked at Miss Ambermere, who apparently understood his unspoken question, because she nodded. He knelt by the doctor and unlocked the irons. “Try anything with Miss Ambermere again, and I’ll take you down. Harder this time,” he said.

  The doctor teetered a little as he climbed to his feet. He touched his jaw and grimaced. Holding his head between his hands as if afraid it might fall from his neck, he went to the sofa and sank down onto it slowly.

  “Interesting that the effects of the substance are nearly eliminated by unconsciousness.” He spoke in a near whisper. “I have a mild concussion, I believe. I wonder if such violent force is necessary.”

  “You attacked Miss Ambermere, and—”

  “I mean necessary to halt the effects of the substance.” He fell silent for a moment, then added, “To be truthful, however, I am still, ah, inflamed. I’m finding it difficult to shift my concentration away from desire, even with the damnable headache and some physical pain caused by Miss Ambermere earlier.”

  Miss Ambermere moved next to Reed, and he allowed himself to brush his hand over her arm. She stepped closer. He wished he’d witnessed whatever she’d done to cause the doctor some pain.

  “Will you promise to behave?” Miss Ambermere asked.

  The doctor nodded, then winced again. “I understand the boundaries of propriety again. I can’t say I agree with them, but I can see them.”

  Miss Ambermere eyed him with interest. “Is that an effect of the powder, do you think? Or have you always held such a bohemian attitude?”

  He snorted, then in an almost singsong voice, he began to recite, “‘The Bohemian is not, like the creature of society, a victim of rules and customs; he steps over them with an easy, graceful, joyous unconsciousness, guided by the principles of good taste and feeling. Above all others, essentially, the Bohemian must not be narrow-minded.’”

  “Oh no. You hit the poor man too hard,” the maid said. After a glance at Reed, she added, “Sir.”

  “Don’t worry, Mary. I was merely answering the question.” The doctor carefully felt along his jaw again with tentative fingertips. “Ada Clare said that rot about Bohemians. My parents loved stories about her group, which met in some beer cellar here in the city. So yes, I suppose I have always held such attitudes.”

  He gathered a cushion to his chest, closed his eyes, and leaned back on the sofa.

  “He looks like you did when you were first recovering,” Miss Ambermere whispered.

  “Ravaged?”

  “Pale and interesting.” There was laughter in her low voice.

  Reed thought the doctor looked like he had the day-after symptoms of a man who’d been on a bender.

  Miss Ambermere noticed Dr. Leonard’s lap showed the obvious evidence that the powder hadn’t entirely worn off. She caught Reed watching her and blushed. “Shall we leave now that we know he’s not a threat?”

  He nodded. “May I get a ride back to your house with you?”

  “Certainly.”

  She moved closer to the doctor, but not within arm’s reach. Smart woman. She leaned over and spoke in a stern voice, addressing the doctor. “I wonder, should I take this with me, or should I trust that you won’t open it again?”

  The doctor opened his eyes. “You mean you forgive me? My dear Miss Ambermere.” He struggled to his feet and held out his hand. Reed hoped she wouldn’t take it, but she did. Silly woman.

  The doctor swallowed hard and squeezed her hand.

  After a minute, she made the effort to pull her gloved fingers from his grip and asked, “Shall I leave the powder with you?”

  He frowned at the box and at her. He blinked a couple of times. “I want you to leave it, yes, very badly. But I think until I’ve had that safe delivered—and perhaps a breathing apparatus—you probably shouldn’t.” He collapsed on the sofa again, legs and arms spread wide like an elegant beached starfish. “I will come to you with the contract, and I will collect it the moment the safe arrives.” Another long blink, as if he was trying to fight the influence. He looked up at Reed. “Do you own a firearm?”

  “No.”

  “I don’t either, and I don’t know the first thing about the damned objects. You know how to use one?”

  Reed nodded.

  “We can’t risk that falling into any other hands.” He gave a hoarse laugh. “Can you imagine what would happen if some mugger looking for easy money found that?”

  “I’ll get a weapon as soon as I can. You send word to me, and I’ll meet you at Miss Ambermere’s house.”

  “Good. You have somewhere safe to store it, I hope,” Dr. Leonard said. He was definitely coming out from under the influence if he could consider matters other than Miss Ambermere’s body.

  “I’ll get it safely back to her house, but after that…”

  “Mr. Clermont will be waiting for us there.” She held up the hatbox gloomily. “This is rather obvious, and the smaller box isn’t much better.”

  Reed allowed himself another touch on her arm. “We’ll think of something to keep it safe for a few days.” The immediate threat was over, so he shifted the shackles to an inside pocket of his jacket. They were less accessible, but the weight of them didn’t show. “Dr. Leonard, don’t forget to send word. You have my card and direction.”

  Glancing back at the tableau of the doctor still sprawled on the couch with the maid hovering nearby, Reed escorted a silent Miss Ambermere out the door.

  He stopped her before she went down the steps to the waiting carriage.

  “Do you trust your coachman?”

  She gave Reed a confused, startled look. “I suppose so. Yes.”

  “Let him hold on to your box after you return home so you don’t walk inside the house carrying it. I’ll go round and meet him and find a place to store it.”

  Her brows drew together—she clearly wanted to tell him she could take care of the problem herself.

  Before she could say a word, he went on. “I won’t take possession of the powder. I have Clermont to worry about, after all. The hotel is a bad place to store it for plenty of other reasons as well. I was thinking perhaps between you and the coachman, you could think of a place on your property, and I’d simply act as the transportation.”

  She wrinkled her nose and surprisingly grinned at him. “You could see I was about to kick, couldn’t you?”

  He put his hands up as if she held a gun. “I understand.”

  “Do you really?” Her surprise was genuine. “Well, I’m not entirely certain I do. I believe it must be a habit from a fear of misunderstanding.”

  An interesting comment, but before he could ask what she meant, she was down the stairs, already speaking to the coachman, who held the door open for her. “Mr. Reed is joining me. Please take us home.”

  The coachman gave Reed a long, dark stare, then climbed onto his bench.

  As they drove, she shoved open the little door. “Hawes, Mr. Reed will ask for your help,
and I want you to do as he says. Please.”

  “Ma’am.”

  “And no matter what happens, I promise to do what I can to help you as well, Hawes. All right?” She slid the door shut.

  “What does he need your help with?”

  She shrugged. “Dull domestic matters.” She gazed out the window, too intensely interested in what was outside the carriage, and he sensed she had another one of those interesting secrets.

  After a moment, she leaned back again and asked, “Did you really meet Mr. Clermont in school?”

  He nodded.

  “I can’t imagine you were friends.”

  “No, he ran with a reckless crowd. I didn’t.”

  “Were you with any sort of crowd at all?”

  He couldn’t help smiling. “One only requires one or two good friends, and I found them.”

  “You know all about my father and mother. Tell me about yours.”

  “Nothing to tell. I had one of each. They both died four years ago.”

  “I’m sorry they’re dead. Tell me about your brothers and sisters.”

  “Seven altogether. Three of each besides me, and I’m second.”

  She reached over and shook his arm. “You are terrible with details. Come on—names, ages. I’m an only child and have always been fascinated by large families.”

  He looked down at her hand, small against his forearm, and wished he was brave enough to capture it, pull her close, steal some more kisses. Instead he cleared his throat.

  “Edgar, Elizabeth, Mabel, Richard, Virginia, and Jacob. Edgar’s twenty-nine; Jacob is twelve.”

  “And between Edgar and Elizabeth, you, Gideon.”

  His Christian name, spoken fondly in her soft voice, proved too much. He slid across the plush velvet seat and put an arm around her shoulders. “What did the doctor do to you, Miss Ambermere? Rather I should ask, are you all right?”

  “I’m fine, Mr. Reed. We’ll be back in a matter of minutes, and perhaps you should get out before then. Not arrive at the same time as I do.”

  “Good plan.”

  She didn’t move from his embrace, and the sensation of her under his arm, tucked against his side, immediately made him hard. He held his breath, just as he’d done in the doctor’s library. The smell and feel of her was as intoxicating as the chemicals. He gave up. Too much longing for so many hours, days. The bonnet she wore hid her face from him, so he pulled it off and put it on the bench next to him.

  She tilted her head back and watched him with solemn eyes. She knew what was going to happen. She didn’t object.

  Another kiss. The last one, he promised himself. A small indulgence for pleasure’s sake. He’d avoided pleasure so long, the need for it ate at him.

  But then her mouth on his interrupted his justifications and silent arguments, and there was only the feel of her body against his arm, then her warm hand on his nape, sliding down his back and clutching him too. Pulling him close.

  She pulled away first, panting and pink-cheeked. When she released her grip, he reluctantly moved away, almost crushing her hat. He handed it to her and watched her tie it on.

  “This is far enough, I think,” she said. “You should walk from here.” Cool and only slightly out of breath. He didn’t know what he’d expected or what he even wanted.

  A slap, a how dare you, a what do you think you’re doing, a soft declaration of affection. Something.

  He wasn’t expecting the blunt Miss Ambermere to say absolutely nothing at all about the long, deep kisses they’d shared. At least her fingers weren’t entirely steady as she adjusted the bow.

  He would match her calm demeanor. “I’ll see you very soon,” he said and opened the hatch to talk to the driver. “Please pull over to the curb. I’ll be around back to see you, Hawes, in a half hour or so, I hope. I’ll leave it to Miss Ambermere to explain.”

  He climbed down from the carriage and walked away without looking back. He waited until his body calmed somewhat, then trotted toward her quiet side street, once again absorbed in thoughts about the perplexing Miss Ambermere.

  She’d seemed so interested in him, asking about his family.

  He hadn’t known her soft voice coaxing details of his life would be as seductive as that succulent body. He was lonely as well as in need of physical companionship.

  Yet after the moment of intimacy, she had lost that warmth. He’d lay odds she wasn’t a flirt. Perhaps she was confused by the dance they fell into together. God knew he was. Once this episode ended, he’d look forward to the freedom to travel in this interesting new world and to search for new paths for himself. That certainly didn’t include trying to satisfy a young lady who’d always known wealth. She’d demand a quality of life he’d never experienced, except as Clermont’s keeper.

  But it wasn’t fair to cast Miss Ambermere in the common mold. She was no ordinary woman. There was the fact that he’d started mauling her right after an attack by the doctor. She’d shown she was no melting, mewling maiden, and whatever the doctor had done, she’d managed to shake it off. Even think clearly.

  He slowed to a walk when he reached her block. Her carriage wasn’t out front, so he’d either beaten the slow city traffic, or she was circling the area to give him time or give her coachman directions about the box. He went up the stairs, praying Clermont had stayed put.

  “Is Mr. Clermont still here? I know he came to call earlier.” He also knew he’d been admitted to the house despite the fact that Miss Ambermere wasn’t at home. Clermont had a way of working these things.

  “Yes, sir, but he’s…” The butler gave him a goggle-eyed, gaping-maw expression of a panicked fish, then glanced at the parlor.

  “Is he alone?”

  “No, sir.” The butler’s voice dropped. “He is with Lady Williamsford, Miss Ambermere’s mother. She returned from her outing early.”

  Reed groaned. At least he’d returned before Miss Ambermere.

  He glared at the butler and walked quickly down the hall. “Oh damnation. Are they alone? Where’s that companion?”

  “Lady Williamsford sent her on an errand, I believe.”

  “And you’ve heard nothing…untoward? No angry voices?”

  “Sir!”

  He pushed past the butler, who seemed to be blocking the path. “Don’t be offended, Beels. That’s your name, isn’t it? Mr. Clermont is an expert at getting around servants.”

  “I don’t understand, sir.” From his outraged tone and stiff posture, it was obvious the butler did indeed understand Reed’s implications.

  But just to make it clear, Reed explained, “Bribes, usually. He’s paid a small fortune in bribes—usually to keep the staff from ignoring cries of protest.”

  He was at the parlor door and knocked—hard. “It’s Reed,” he shouted. “And I’m opening the door in thirty seconds.”

  “Make it a full minute,” Clermont called back cheerily.

  Beels stood next to Reed, puffed up and pale. “He did not bribe me, sir. I did not speak to him at all after announcing him. Lady Williamsford gave orders for privacy. She was quite definite about not wishing interruptions.”

  “That’s something. Glad to hear she wasn’t reluctant.” He supposed that was good news. In a louder voice, Reed said, “I’m counting down, Clermont.”

  When he opened the door less than thirty seconds later, both Clermont and the lady were fully dressed. Slightly rumpled, perhaps, and pink, but no garments were askew, and her hair was up and almost neat. Only a few wisps of her blonde hair had escaped the complex arrangement of curls and braids.

  The room looked more disheveled than either of them. Of course. They’d been searching for the powder.

  “Mr. Reed. My daughter’s good friend.” Lady Williamsford came forward, hand outstretched. “You’re here for another philosophical discussion, no doubt. Have you met Mr. Clermont?”

  “We’re traveling together. For the moment,” Reed answered. He could see she’d known the answer to her question, a
nd wondered if Miss Ambermere or Clermont had told her of his job as Clermont’s keeper. “I hope you’re well, my lady?”

  “Topping, as you English say. Take a seat. My daughter isn’t home, but I’m sure she won’t mind if I act as hostess. Mr. Clermont was just trying to leave when I arrived home and insisted he come in for tea. I’ll ring for another cup. And maybe some more cookies. Those are biscuits, you know.”

  “Thank you, my lady.” He went to the same stiff, high-backed chair he’d taken on previous visits. Near the entrance, nothing too hard to get up from in case Clermont tried to leave. Time to be back on full guard.

  The door opened, and Miss Ambermere came in. She smiled brightly at them all and shook hands. He stood watching her, but not too carefully because he knew Clermont and Lady Williamsford watched them. He was relieved to see Miss Ambermere didn’t twist her hands or blush or show any signs of discomfort.

  “And where did you disappear to, dear?” Lady Williamsford scolded. She exchanged a small smile with Clermont.

  “I had to sign some papers and take something to Mr. Dorsey. He didn’t like the fact that I went to his office. He’s so stuffy. A dear man, but nervous about everything.”

  Reed wanted to applaud. Good job. This would lead Clermont to turn the lawyer’s office upside down in the search.

  “Oh.” Her mother’s smile didn’t diminish. “And here is our tea. No need for the females to pour. Silly ritual when your Beels is so efficient.” She beamed up at him as he handed her a cup of tea. The butler’s chest seemed to expand.

  Lady Williamsford sipped the tea and went on. “I meant to bring along my own Steppings to take a few lessons from Beels on being awake and alert. I’ve instructed my Bessie to learn your Murphy’s secrets. Such a way with your hair, Rosalie. She is a marvel.”

  They drank their tea in silence for a few minutes.

  “Where is Miss Renshaw?” Reed asked. “Is she still under the weather?”

  Lady Williamsford smiled and lied. “She begged my pardon a thousand times and said she had to go somewhere, even though we had a visitor in the house. Very mysterious.” She took a dainty bite of her biscuit, chewed, swallowed, and licked her lips. “Something has got into that woman, Rosalie. You’d best summon a doctor. That nerve specialist with the wonderful electric machine.”