by Darcy Burke
He held up the knife. “The weapon is a nice addition. I do thank you for that. While I appreciate the plan, I should like to launch a surprise attack when they open the door. However, that won’t be for quite some time. I believe you’re supposed to provide an experience that will carry me to my eternal rest.”
“I shall provide a lifetime of them.” She swayed toward him, angling her chest first up and then down to draw his attention. As planned, his eyes locked on her bared flesh. She grazed her breasts against his chest. She curled her hand around his neck and brushed her lips against his jaw.
“Since I am without footwear at present, I’m going to put this back in yours.” He leaned down and hiked her skirt to her knee, then slid the knife between her stocking and the edge of her boot. “Do you know, there’s something quite thrilling about you bedecked in weaponry. It brings to mind your scandalous gentleman’s attire when we first began this adventure. Wholly unexpected yet strangely alluring.” He pressed a soft kiss to her neck.
Need poured through her like a torrent. She curled her fingers around his forearm and brought them down to the cold metal around his wrist. “I don’t suppose there’s any way we can get this off.”
“There’s nothing in this room save the pallet. And while your weapons are helpful—and attractive,” he said with a sultry smile, “they won’t pick the lock.” His smile spread into a wide grin as he fixated on her hair.
She smoothed her hand over the curls, unsurprised that a few had sprung free, as usual. “What?”
“Your lovely, necessary, terribly useful hairpins.”
She withdrew one from her hair and held it out to him.
He slid the hairpin into the lock and worked it around. “They should’ve shackled my left hand because then I probably wouldn’t be able to do this.”
“Because you’re left-handed.” She remembered the first time she noticed that, during their first waltzing lesson. He’d compared himself to the devil. At the time, she’d thought he was merely being flirtatious, but now she knew he’d meant it. Beneath all of his arrogance and showmanship, his true opinion of himself was poor indeed.
The lock clicked and the shackle fell open. He caught it as he looked up at her and smiled, then quickly put his finger to his lips. “We don’t want them knowing I’m no longer confined,” he said extra quietly.
She nodded as she took the metal from his wrist and set it gently on the floor. “It’s a good thing you’re such an expert thief, else you’d still be wearing this.”
“You could argue that if I hadn’t been an expert thief, I wouldn’t be here in the first place.” He took her hand and pulled her against him. His mouth crushed over hers in a fierce kiss.
Her body responded instantly. She twined her arms around his neck and kissed him back, eager for his touch and amazed that she could want him so desperately despite the danger they faced. But maybe that was the source of her need. He gave her strength and courage and made her feel like she could do anything, be anyone.
He spun her about so that her back was against the wall. He dragged his mouth from hers, nipping at her lower lip. “You look so different. Who applied your cosmetics?”
“Olivia—Saxton’s wife. She worked in the theater for a short time.”
“You look rather exotic. Add in the weapons and this gown . . . it’s almost like you’re someone else.” His gaze dipped to her breasts. “You may have to wear this costume for me again.”
Her pulse quickened and warmth suffused her—he was beginning to have hope! “Only in the privacy of our bedroom. I’m not terribly fond of putting myself on public display.”
“Neither am I. Though I am beyond grateful that you would do that for me.” He kissed her throat and stroked his tongue along the underside of her chin. “What happened to my shy, blushing Audrey?”
She tipped her head back against the wall and closed her eyes, giving herself over to the sensations he was igniting. “It seems you’ve changed me.”
He trailed his mouth down her neck and brought his hand beneath her breast. He curved his palm around her and brushed his thumb over the edge of her gown, grazing her flesh. Then his mouth was there, sucking at the top of her breast. She arched forward, offering herself to his attention. But she wanted more. “My gown,” she breathed.
“We can’t disrobe,” he said against her flesh. “We need to be ready. Hell, we probably shouldn’t even be doing this.” He palmed her breast, then dipped his fingers inside of her bodice to find the stiff peak. His mouth, hot and open, was back at her throat while he pulled at her nipple.
Heat streamed to her core. Had he said they shouldn’t be making love? She tugged at his hair as she held his head close to her. “Please, don’t stop.”
“I couldn’t if I wanted to.” His teeth tugged at her ear. “Which I don’t.” His hand left her breast, but for good reason. He hiked her skirt up, baring her calf, her knee, her thigh. “Hold this.”
She complied, clasping her bunched up skirt at her waist while his fingers found her center. She moaned as he stroked her flesh. Already her orgasm was building. “I’m finding it difficult to be quiet.”
“So don’t be. These are the sounds they expect to hear. Let’s give them a show.” He thrust his finger inside of her and she gasped. “Yes, like that, only louder.”
“More.” She let herself go, moaning and encouraging him.
His hand left her and she opened her eyes, afraid that someone had perhaps interrupted them. But no, he was opening his fall and then his hot flesh was nudging against her. He lifted her against the wall. “Wrap your legs around me.”
She braced her hands on his shoulders and did as he bade, encircling his waist with her legs. He positioned himself at her entrance and drove inside of her, pinning her to the wall. She cried out as he filled her.
His hand came up and cupped the back of her neck, his fingers digging into her flesh. “Look at me, Audrey.”
She opened her eyes and saw her own need and desire reflected in his gaze. And love. “I love you,” she whispered.
He kissed her, his lips playing over hers softly at first, and then he thrust his tongue inside of her, mimicking the stroke of his cock. He drove up into her, his flesh rubbing against her, coaxing her release.
Pleasure unfurled within her, slowly at first and then at lightning speed. He tore his mouth from hers and slammed her against the wall with his thrusts. Her orgasm broke over her. All she could see was light. All she felt was ecstasy. All she heard were his moans and the relentless sound of him moving inside of her. He stiffened and shouted his release. Then he buried his face in her neck.
ETHAN’S LEGS QUIVERED as his orgasm subsided. He inhaled Audrey’s delicious scent—a combination of lavender and spice—and was overwhelmed with the gift of her. He wished he could give her the fairy-tale ending she deserved, but he’d settle for just getting her out of St. Giles alive. And if, by some chance, he got out too, he’d choke every one of those pricks who’d put her in danger.
He continued to hold her, as tremors coursed through her body. Or maybe they were his. He wasn’t quite sure where she ended and he began. He kissed her neck as he slowly withdrew from her. Gently, he eased her legs from his waist and guided them to the floor.
She gripped his shoulders until she found her footing, then she kissed him soundly and thoroughly. He couldn’t help but smile into her mouth.
When he drew back, she regarded him with a satisfied gaze. He had nothing to offer her to tidy herself—they’d taken his cravat hours ago. He supposed he could offer his waistcoat. Now that he was unshackled, he could remove it. He rebuttoned his fall. “Do you need anything to clean up?”
She shook her head, and still there was no blush. Not only did she look different, she really was different. “I’m fine. Petticoats can serve multiple purposes.” She sank down to the pallet.
He went to the door and listened. He couldn’t hear anything from the corridor, but knew George and the hulk had to
be out there. His mind began to play scenarios where he took on the brute while Audrey attacked George. He glanced back at her and wondered if she could do that.
He joined her on the pallet, tucking her into the crook of his arm as he propped himself back against the wall. She curled beside him, laying her head upon his shoulder and bringing her knees up so they nuzzled his thighs.
She traced her fingertips over the buttons of his waistcoat. “What will we do when this is all behind us?”
How he hoped there would be an opportunity for them to find out. He would expend all of his energy to see her to safety, and if he was somehow saved . . . well, he didn’t expect it. Not that he would say that. She’d made her opinion on his cynicism clear. Instead, he decided to indulge her fantasy. And it wasn’t a trial. Thinking of a future with her, even if it was hopeless, gave him comfort. It was how he’d spent many of the long days since he’d been arrested.
“This may surprise you, but I actually liked Wootton Bassett. Not the town specifically, since we didn’t really see much of it, but I enjoyed the time we spent with Fox and Miranda. Their life is simple and . . . purposeful.”
Her hand stilled, her palm flattening against his chest. “Yes, it is. You liked that?”
He nodded. “What Fox does there with the orphanage is astonishing. He impacts so many lives. Without him, those children would suffer terribly.”
“Like you did.”
“Worse. Many of them are younger than I was. I shudder to think what would’ve happened to me if I’d been orphaned at a younger age.” Because of his pretty face, he undoubtedly would’ve been forced into prostitution. That path had been suggested to him several times.
She tucked her hand beneath his waistcoat and pressed her hand over his heart. “Me too.”
“When we stayed with the hermit, I liked that story.”
“What, me being your sister? I’m afraid I didn’t care for that part.”
He chuckled and kissed her head. “No, I don’t care for that part either. I did, however, enjoy pretending to be a schoolmaster. Do you think . . .” Oh, now he really was fantasizing.
She lifted her head and looked up at him. “Do I think what? That you could teach?” She reached up and touched his cheek, directing his gaze down to hers. “I think you can do anything you put your mind to. Especially if I help you.”
“When you tell me that, I believe it.” He tipped her chin up and kissed her.
A few moments later, she settled back against him with a contented sigh. “Do you envision opening a school at Stipple’s End? I think the Foxcrofts would love that. I know they’d like to enlarge the orphanage, but they need more help. I think Miranda’s invitation for us to stay was genuine.”
“Yes, that’s what I was hoping. Provided they forgive us for lying to them and for taking one of their horses.”
“We only borrowed her. I’m sure Posy returned to Wootton Bassett when she ran off.” Audrey yawned. “And that’s what we’ll do. After we’re married, of course.”
“Of course.” He tucked a wayward curl behind her ear. “Sleep if you want. I’ll be right here.”
A few minutes later he heard the even tone of her breathing as she drifted into slumber. He hated that she’d come back for him, but he couldn’t regret this time he’d had with her.
The sound of the door jarred him awake. Shit, he hadn’t meant to fall asleep. He shook Audrey, then pulled the knife from her boot. “Wake up.”
He jumped to his feet and rushed toward the door, anxious energy pumping through him.
The brute came in first. Ethan didn’t hesitate. He charged forward, knife in hand, but his opponent was viciously strong. He rushed at Ethan and knocked him off balance, sending him crashing backward into the wall. Pain exploded in Ethan’s skull, but he pitched forward in an effort to take the big man down. The man’s fist landed against Ethan’s wrist, and Ethan dropped the knife.
Audrey’s shriek filled the small room. George had her by the hair and was drawing a knife from his belt.
Ethan put up his hands. “Stop! Let her go. She isn’t part of this.”
George dragged her toward the door.
Where the fuck was her pistol?
She tried to reach down—presumably for her gun—but George yanked her hair, pulling her upright. “Ethan!”
The larger man grabbed Ethan’s arm in a vise-like grip.
Ethan tried to pull free to get to Audrey, but it was pointless. “George, she’s just a worthless whore.”
“Then what do ye care if she dies? The Jagger I know would put ’is own survival before anyone else’s, but then she didn’t call ye Jagger jes’ then, did she? I don’t think she’s a worthless whore at all.”
Too late Ethan realized their mistake.
“You’re wrong,” Audrey said, ever his defender. “Jagger would lay down his life for the people he cares about, or for those who can’t help themselves.” Her gaze connected with his. “I know this about him.”
Ethan’s heart warmed at her confidence, but it wasn’t helping their cause at all. The more she said about him, the clearer it became that she wasn’t some indiscriminate prostitute from upstairs. “She doesn’t know shit, George. Just take her back to the common room so she can find another bloke.” He gave her a meaningful stare.
“Ollie, lock ’im up again,” George said. He kept his hand twisted in Audrey’s hair and his knife against her throat. Ethan longed to drive that knife into his heart for daring to touch her.
Ollie tugged him toward the shackle, but Ethan made it hard for him. He kicked out at him and threw his fist into his gut, which felt as though it were made of iron. Ollie slammed him into the wall as he reached down for the shackle. He slapped the metal around Ethan’s wrist. “Damn, ye got a key, George?”
“Reach into my waistcoat pocket there, lovely. That’s right. Now toss the key to Ollie. There’s a girl.”
Ethan couldn’t tell what was happening because Ollie had him shoved against the wall so that all he could see was the corner. He tried to twist his neck, but Ollie only dug his arm harder across his shoulder blades.
“Bitch!” The report of a pistol sounded. Ollie’s hold loosened enough for Ethan to turn around and see Audrey holding her smoking pistol over George who appeared to be bleeding from his hip.
Ethan tried to get to her, but Ollie held him back. Running boots echoed from the corridor and then a pair of faces appeared in the door.
One of them said, “What the ’ell happened?”
“She shot George,” Ollie said.
“Take ’er to Jimmy,” the new arrival said. The second man came into the room and clasped her wrist. She cried out as he easily took the pistol from her fingers. She tried to pull away and her gaze met Ethan’s.
His heart twisted as he watched her dragged from the room. His hope that she’d make it out of the Cup and Burrow withered and died. When Ollie’s fist found his gut once more, he crumpled to the floor and prayed that Audrey wouldn’t suffer.
Chapter Twenty-two
AUDREY KICKED AND thrashed at the man who pulled her away from Ethan, but it was no use. As soon as he got her into the corridor, the second man picked up her feet and carried her.
“Keep yer mouth shut.” Another pair of men passed them. “Fetch George. The bitch shot ’im.”
They carried her through another doorway and then dumped her to the floor near a large table. She blinked as she pushed herself up to a sitting position.
“Miss Cheswick?” Jimmy stood from the table and stared at her. “Didn’t I let ye leave?”
“Yes.” She got to her feet on quaking legs.
“Ye should’ve stayed gone. I won’t be so nice a second time.” He scrutinized her appearance. “Particularly when ye look as if ye belong ’ere. Doesn’t she, lads?” He laughed and the rest joined in. When the laughter died down, he nodded at the two men who’d carried her. Each man grabbed one of her arms and held her still.
Jimmy came around
the table, his hands clasped behind his back. He stopped just in front of her. “Now, why did ye come back?”
She smelled the gin on his breath and fought not to recoil. “To see Ethan.”
Jimmy’s hand snapped across her cheek so fast, she didn’t see it coming. But the pain lingered, setting her cheek afire. “Don’t make me hit ye again. I really don’t like hurtin’ women.”
Her eyes watered. She struggled to think of what to say. “I came to see him and you.” She cringed, waiting for his hand to strike again and when it didn’t, she rushed onward. “He was like a son to you. I can’t believe you want to hurt him. He only wants to be happy. With me. Can’t you let him do that?”
He squinted at her a long moment. “’E won’t be happy with ye. I’ve seen ’im with women over the years. ’E’ll tire of ye soon enough. Then ’e’ll move on to his next Society conquest. ’E’s fooled ye like ’e fooled me.”
She didn’t believe that for a moment, but wouldn’t try to convince him otherwise. “Fine, then let him do that. Why does he have to be a criminal? Why won’t you just let him be free?”
Jimmy wrapped his hand around her neck and she worried she’d gone too far. He leaned close. “’E is a criminal. ’E’s exactly what I made ’im and that’s all ’e’ll ever be.” Spittle shot from his mouth and landed on her cheek.
He let go of her, shoving her back as he removed his hand. The men tightened their grips on her arms. She swallowed, anxious about what would happen next. She hoped and prayed they still had a chance once they got outside.
Jimmy strolled back to his place at the head of the table and looked down. “I suppose I’m done with my breakfast.” He swept the plate from the table. Because it was metal, it didn’t break, but hit the floor with a loud thud. “Get ’im ready. ’E’s got a trial to attend.”
Several men stood from the table and disappeared through the doorway toward the room where Ethan was being held. Audrey tensed.
“And ye shot one of my best men.” Jimmy shook his head. He came back toward her and didn’t stop until he’d clasped her chin in a firm, painful grip. “Ye’re goin’ to have a front-row seat at Jagger’s trial and hangin’, and then I’m goin’ to work ye upstairs until ye can’t walk. Do ye know how much money I’ll make off Jagger’s lovey?” His gaze dipped to her breasts and he dug his fingers into her flesh. “Let’s hope ye fuck as well as ye look. Eh, it doesn’t matter, does it, lads? They’ll pay for the novelty, not the skill.” He sneered in her face and let her go before turning away from her.
