Scoundrel Ever After (Secrets and Scandals)

by Darcy Burke

  He held up his hands in surrender. “You win. Thank you for coming. I suppose you should go back to your room.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Not so fast. You owe me an explanation. You told me you didn’t have time to stay here, that you needed to be on your way. And then you go and tell Fox that we’re eloping to America. I’m not going to let you evade my questions. Not this time.”

  She was so resolute, so adorably perturbed, he almost wanted to prolong her irritation. But even he wasn’t that cruel. “I had to tell Fox something.”

  She edged backward from him. “You plan to leave, then?”

  He frowned. He didn’t want her to go. “I must. At some point.”

  “Why?”

  He couldn’t give her all the answers she wanted. It was one thing to confess to killing Four-Finger Tom. That had been more than a decade ago. He wouldn’t tell her he was wanted for killing the Marquess of Wolverton, particularly because he hadn’t done it and he was afraid she wouldn’t believe him. She liked him. She looked at him in a way no other woman had ever looked at him, and dammit she was like sunlight to his blackened soul. She didn’t want anything from him, save his trust. Ironically—tragically—it was the one thing he just couldn’t give. “It’s complicated.”

  “It doesn’t have to be,” she said softly, lowering her gaze to the carpet that cushioned their feet before the fireplace. When she raised her face once more, her eyes were so clear and blue-green, he thought he might be looking out at the sea. He’d seen it twice. Just last spring when he’d gone to Cornwall for a prizefight, and as a boy when his father had taken him to Brighton. That life was barely a memory, and yet after a day like today, it seemed within his grasp.

  She straightened her spine and clenched her jaw. “Why did you take me with you?”

  Because Gin Jimmy had sent men to take her. They thought she was important to him. And, dammit, if she hadn’t been then, she sure as hell was now. The best thing he could do for her, though, would be to leave her so that Gin Jimmy would think he’d tired of her. He never kept a woman long, so it made sense that Ethan would discard her at some point.

  But what of Bow Street? It was one thing to start over in Wootton Bassett to avoid an irksome family as Lady Miranda had done, but something altogether different to escape charges of murder. Sooner or later, he was going to have to deal with that.

  “I took you with me to protect you from those men who came to your house.” He watched her intently. “You remember what they said—that they’d come there for you.”

  She suddenly looked very tense. “Who were they?”

  “Men who work for my employer, Gin Jimmy. He’s a lord of crime, Audrey, a very bad man.”

  “Why did they come for me?”

  As always, he considered how much to reveal. In this case, he didn’t think it would harm her—or him—to know the truth. “They think you mean something to me. I suspect they saw me sneaking into your house when you gave me waltzing lessons.” Which meant they’d been following him for weeks. How long had Gin Jimmy suspected Ethan of turning against him? Or had he simply been keeping tabs on Ethan, who’d been sent into Society to keep an eye on the widow of one of Gin Jimmy’s “inside men,” an earl who, for a price, had identified opportunities for theft within the ton. That widow had ultimately been killed, a murder Ethan was also being charged with.

  Audrey’s eyes rounded briefly before she turned to look at the fire. “I see. But you think I’m safe here, so you can continue on and I’ll stay? That’s what you planned isn’t it?”

  There was no point lying to her. She deserved the truth—at least as much as it pertained to her. “Yes, I think you’ll be safe this far away from London. I planned to ask you to cry off. Then I’ll leave.”

  She threw him a sad smile. “That’s magnanimous of you. However, it won’t spare my reputation.”

  He couldn’t keep himself from edging closer to her. “You knew your reputation would be damaged the minute you stepped outside your window.”

  “I did. And I’d do it again.” She turned to face him, just a mere foot or so away. He could reach out and touch her, but he didn’t dare. She deserved so much more than he could give.

  “Ethan.” Her eyes turned soft. “I would do it again. I don’t want to go back to London—even if I could and it sounds as if it’s not safe for me there, at least not yet and maybe not ever? I don’t really understand how this is supposed to work. But you said you could protect me, so,” she took a deep breath, “take me with you.”

  His heart hammered, sending reverberations of want and need through his body until they settled in his groin. Women had begged him for all manner of things: favors, his attention, money. Never had they asked for his company in so earnest a fashion, as if their very peace depended upon it. Still, he couldn’t allow her into the darkness that was his existence. Not now, and, to echo her words, maybe not ever.

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not? You said I’m safer with you. Keep me safe. Let me do the same for you. I don’t think anyone has cared for you. I do. I will.”

  The room swayed a moment and his knees felt as though they might give way. He could scarcely bear what she was offering, and yet his soul hungered for it like nothing before.

  She stepped before him and cradled his cheek. “Don’t turn me away. I want to come with you—of my own accord. There is nothing for me anywhere. I’ve never felt as alive as I do with you. Together, we can figure out whatever we need to figure out. Or,” she smiled crookedly, “we can actually go to America and be whoever the hell we want.”

  She’d cursed. For him.

  Ethan crushed his mouth over hers in a blistering kiss. He didn’t want to coax or invite her, he wanted to own her, to tame her, to bring her completely under his control. When he decided he wanted something, he conquered it fully, and he wanted Audrey.

  He thrust his hands into her hair, knowing it would tumble from its pins with the barest of effort. He wasn’t disappointed. With a gentle movement of his fingers, her curls cascaded over his hands and down her back. Violets and honey filled his senses.

  He plundered her mouth with his tongue, pleased when she met him thrust for thrust. Her hands clutched at his neck as she pressed herself into him. She was taller than any other woman he’d held, which meant she fit against him in ways no other woman had. His cock burned against her hip. He adjusted her, pulling her so that he was between her thighs. He drifted one hand down her back and splayed his hand across her backside, drawing her tightly to him.

  She moaned softly. Ethan continued to devour her mouth as he brought his hand around to the front of her dressing gown. He slid his hand beneath the fabric, wondering if—hoping that—she was naked beneath it. But she wasn’t. Her chemise prevented him from connecting with her bare flesh. It was just the interruption he needed for sanity to gain a foothold in his brain.

  He pulled away abruptly and stepped back. “Audrey,” he croaked. “You should return to your chamber.”

  “I don’t want to.” She untied her dressing gown, but stopped short of slipping it from her shoulders. She was trying very hard to be seductive and brave, but he saw the underlying tremor of apprehension.

  Christ, she was a virgin. Ethan didn’t do virgins. Not since he’d been one, anyway. That had been an awkward affair when he was fifteen. From then on, he’d sought out more experienced partners. Yet, he felt certain none of them would hold a candle to Audrey.

  “Audrey, you must. Your reputation might be tainted, but I will not be responsible for actually ruining you.”

  “What if I told you I was already ruined?”

  He thought of the blacksmith’s son and her aborted escape to America. Her behavior with him over the past several days did not indicate a woman who was comfortable with a man on an intimate level. “I wouldn’t believe you.”

  Even as he said it, he was less sure. Had something happened with the blacksmith’s son? He suddenly wanted to get on a goddamned ship an
d find the prick on the other side of the world.

  Her frame relaxed slightly, and so did his. “I can tell you want me. Why can’t I stay?”

  He couldn’t keep from laughing, loving her honesty. How strange and pleasant the world would be if people were as genuine as her.

  “It’s best for everyone.” He reached out and tied her robe closed, his hands lightly shaking as they grazed her hip. He wanted so desperately to tear every strip of fabric from her body and worship her in the golden glow of the fire. “You deserve a better life than running with me.”

  She splayed her hand against his chest, and his will faltered. “You don’t have to run.” She was killing him.

  He kissed her again, more gently this time, but still with all the need he’d suppressed for as long as he could remember. Forever, probably. He could relent. Relinquish the control he relied upon to keep himself apart, safe, alone. It was why he didn’t trust anyone to get close. They’d all left him or hurt him or both. If there was one thing he’d learned it was that nothing was permanent. Nothing. At least not for him.

  He tore his mouth from hers. He put his hands on her shoulders and pushed away from her, backing up several steps before he could change his mind. “Go. Please.”

  “I won’t cry off.” She elevated her chin and gave him a challenging stare. “You’ll have to be the one to do it.” She knew he didn’t want to, was trying to call his bluff. She turned and left, her curls taunting him as she went.

  He stared at the closed door for a long time. It was unfortunate she didn’t realize that no one forced him to do anything. Why then, was he considering it?

  AUDREY HAD A maid wake her early the next morning. She didn’t want Ethan dashing off before she rose. When she arrived downstairs, however, she learned he’d accompanied Fox to the orphanage to help him with some repairs. Worried he might try to leave her at Bassett Manor, she hurried to join them.

  During the short ride to Stipple’s End, she relived Ethan’s kisses. And his rejection. She’d been disappointed that he’d turned her away, but she also knew how painful it had been for him to do so. She smiled, hoping she’d started to convince him they could be better together than apart.

  Upon arriving at the orphanage, she was relieved to find him and Fox working on a section of fence. Around a sheep pasture. She smiled at the irony, given where they’d slept two nights ago.

  The remainder of the morning passed in a blur as Audrey assisted Mrs. Gates with various duties around Stipple’s End. It was nearly luncheon when Mrs. Gates asked her to oversee the children in setting the table. When Audrey was finished, she made her way to the kitchen to see if she could help serve the food.

  Audrey halted just outside the door at the sound of Rob Knott’s voice. “The man said he was from Bow Street, that he was looking for a man called Jagger or Locke.”

  “Bow Street?” Fox said, his tone rising with surprise.

  Bow Street was here? Audrey couldn’t breathe. She didn’t want to alert anyone to her presence, but more importantly, she just couldn’t seem to draw air into her lungs.

  “Unfortunately, Stratham overheard the man and offered that he’d met Locke at Bassett Manor, that he’s your guest.”

  Fox swore. “Pardon me, Mrs. Gates. Stratham’s a menace.”

  “Did you know Bow Street was looking for Locke?” Rob asked.

  “No, I didn’t.” Fox sounded dismayed. “I’ll go and speak with him. Rob, is the Runner on his way?”

  “I don’t know,” Rob said. “As soon as I realized Bow Street was looking for him, I came straight here.”

  It was all Audrey needed to hear. She tore out of the building and stopped short. Miranda and three girls were just dismounting from their horses in the stable yard. Audrey could scarcely believe her good luck. She hurried over.

  Miranda handed her reins to one of the boys who were learning how to groom. “Audrey, are we late for luncheon? I lost track of time, I’m afraid. The girls were doing so well today.”

  “No, you’re right on time.” Audrey eyed Miranda’s mount. “Do you mind if I borrow one of the horses? I need to fetch Ethan and I turned my ankle, so I’d prefer to ride.” The lie fell off her tongue with surprising ease.

  “Not at all, take mine,” Miranda said.

  Audrey wasn’t sure she wanted to take Miranda’s horse. What if she and Ethan left immediately? She was still only borrowing the creature, but the length of the loan was currently indeterminate. “I’ll just take this one.” She took the reins of the nearest animal.

  “That’s Posy. She won’t give you any trouble.”

  Audrey led her to the block and mounted. “See you in a bit!” She rather doubted that was true and felt a pang of regret that she was perhaps leaving without a proper thank-you or good-bye. She smiled at Miranda. “Thank you. For everything.” Then she turned Posy and raced for the sheep pasture.

  ETHAN DROVE A nail into the fence, the effort and exercise soothing him in a way he’d never expected. It was so different out here—the quiet, the smell of earth and grass, the simplicity. He wasn’t sure he liked it, but he didn’t hate it. He did, however, like feeling needed and that he was making a positive impact. By repairing a fence at an orphanage? He scoffed at himself. He could do better than that.

  In London, he did what he could. He tried to look out for young boys, and while it was typically too late to dissuade them from crime, he did his best to teach them how to take care of themselves. He schooled them in ways he’d never been taught, and he hoped he made some small difference.

  Except in the instance of Oscar. He’d been a young lad, small for his age, orphaned—or so he’d said. He could easily have had parents who were either too drunk to care for him or had pushed him out because they had too many other mouths to feed. At nine, he would’ve been deemed old enough to take care of himself.

  He’d turned up in one of the flash houses and would’ve been put to work as a prostitute, or he might’ve joined up with a young theft gang. He’d tried to pick pockets, but hadn’t been very adept. Ethan could see that he was going to fail and likely end up in gaol or worse. So Ethan, who’d been relatively young at the time, just seventeen, had taken the boy out of London to a vicarage.

  Ethan had earned sufficient funds to pass himself off as a gentleman. He’d convinced the vicar that the orphaned Oscar would make an excellent groomsman or gardener or anything the vicar could train him to be. He’d then given the vicar a sum of money large enough to ensure he couldn’t say no. But as it happened, the money hadn’t been necessary. The vicar’s wife had brought them tea and upon hearing what Ethan had proposed had wept. They’d been unable to have children of their own and she saw Oscar as a gift from God. It had been the happiest day of Ethan’s life.

  Upon returning to London, however, a few of his cohorts had suspected what he’d done. It had made him look soft and weak. He’d never indulged that sort of fancy again. And now, here, amidst Fox’s kindness and benevolence, his lack of action weighed on him.

  The sound of an approaching horse made him look up. A lone rider was coming toward him down the road that ran beside the sheep pasture. The back of Ethan’s neck tingled, but he shrugged the sensation away. It could be anyone.

  The brim of his hat shielded his eyes from the sun, but he squinted nonetheless in an effort to make out the rider. As he drew nearer, Ethan’s blood ran cold as recognition hit him. Teague.

  Ethan tensed to run, but the horse would overtake him quickly. His mind raced. He didn’t want to be dragged back to London to the noose. Unfortunately, that seemed suddenly inevitable. Unless he could take Teague down.

  Teague led his horse through the gap in the fence—the gap Ethan and Fox had been repairing—and stopped. He withdrew a pistol from his coat and pointed it at Ethan’s heart. “Finally found you.”

  Ethan fought to keep the panic at bay. His fingers clenched around the hammer. Its presence gave him a modicum of comfort. “You came an awfully long way. Most peop
le would’ve given up. In fact, I didn’t realize the Runners even came this far out.” He was satisfied that he sounded calm, unaffected, but then he’d spent years perfecting such deceit.

  Teague slid from his horse, but kept his gun trained on Ethan. “I’d follow you to the ends of the earth. Particularly now that I have you away from your protective army, and I’ve charges to lay against you to boot.”

  “Ah yes, the charges. You’ve been working so hard to find something. The irony here is that this is one crime I am not guilty of.”

  Teague’s lip curled. “I saw you standing over Wolverton’s body with a bloody knife. It doesn’t get much more damning than that.”

  Ethan couldn’t argue that, but he hadn’t killed the marquess. “It was Gin Jimmy. You know Wolverton controlled a theft ring. He worked for Gin Jimmy, just like Aldridge did.”

  “And Wolverton ended up dead, just like Aldridge.” Teague cocked his head to the side. “You’re Gin Jimmy’s right hand. You were there. It’s logical you would carry out his bidding.”

  Logical, yes, but he hadn’t done it. Ethan gritted his teeth. “I’m guilty of a lot of things, but this isn’t one of them.”

  Teague’s dark eyes glittered in the midday sun. “Do catalog them for me so that I may increase the charges against you. Shall we start with my sister?”

  Ethan expected nothing less. “There was nothing illegal about what happened with your sister. You can’t fault me for her choices.”

  “The hell I can’t. She died because of what you did to her.”

  A stab of regret pierced Ethan’s gut. Janey Teague had been a nice girl once. Just as he’d been a decent boy. That she’d chosen a dangerous life instead of fighting for whatever opportunities her brother had found wasn’t Ethan’s fault. At fifteen, they’d been each other’s first lovers. He’d liked her, liked having someone he could be intimate with, but their relationship hadn’t lasted long. She was young, beautiful, and possessed a wealth of charm. Lured by the promise of fame and fortune, she’d left Ethan to become some man’s paramour. Years later, when she’d fallen out of favor and had found herself back in Ethan’s world, she’d tried to use their former association to gain entry into Gin Jimmy’s favorite flash house, presumably to draw Jimmy’s eye. However, she’d been turned away and months later, Ethan had heard she’d died of drink. Teague blamed him for her death since she’d told him on her deathbed that Ethan had been the one to ruin her.