by Amy Sandas
Katherine understood why he’d be drawn to explore London’s many thoroughfares and crooked lanes. Despite the inherent dangers.
“The somber streets became so familiar to me it didn’t even occur to me to be scared.”
Katherine had to forcefully remind herself that Frederick was safe and sitting right there beside her. She squeezed his hand. “What happened?”
“Two men in a carriage caught me unaware. I should have tried to run, but by the time I realized they meant to abduct me, it was too late. They wrestled me into a carriage and took off at a terrible speed. We didn’t stop until we got to an old inn of sorts where they tossed me into a room that was little more than a cupboard.”
He lifted his gaze to hers. One of his thick brows curved sardonically. “They weren’t too clever, Kit. They didn’t even bother to secure my hands or feet or anything.”
“You escaped?” She tried not to let the fear his story invoked reflect in her tone. He might not have been scared by his ordeal, but the idea of her brother being in the hands of ruthless kidnappers had her heart racing and her stomach churning.
“Quite easily,” he replied matter-of-factly. “At one point, they both stepped outside, thinking I’d be secure enough behind the locked door.”
She almost smiled. When Frederick was six years old, he’d developed a brief fascination with the mechanisms of various sorts of locks. It hadn’t taken him long to master them all, including how to pick them with whatever might be handy, and he’d quickly moved on to something else.
“Once free of the cupboard, I climbed through a window and ran down the alley. The streets in that part of town are different from Mayfair. Twisting, turning, narrow, and dark. Chaotic and sort of fascinating.” His tone lowered. “And the people I encountered...some of them living so desperately and furtively in the shadows.”
Though Frederick had a fiercely analytical mind, it went along with a sensitive heart. He’d never been able to observe suffering without wanting to find a way to fix it.
“Is that where you encountered Mr. Hale?” she asked. “Did he take you in?”
Frederick blinked. Then he shook his head. “No. Not yet. Unfortunately, I was set upon once again.”
Her heart jolted. “The kidnappers found you?”
“Different men. Rougher characters who were much better prepared to prevent escape. They put a cloth over my face, forcing me to breath noxious fumes that burned my throat and put me to sleep. I woke to find myself chained in the company of several other children. We’d been taken by a gang of criminals who intended to sell us into servitude and slavery overseas.”
“Oh my God!” The exclamation slid free before she could stop it.
Frederick looked to her with sharp concern as he quickly assured, “It’s all right, though. Mr. Hale and three others stormed into the warehouse where we were all being kept. Hale and his friends took care of the criminals and made sure every one of us got out of there.”
Katherine took a long breath. She could only imagine how that great-muscled man had taken care of the criminal gang. It seemed the brute wasn’t the villain she’d feared he might be. “I am unbelievably grateful to Mr. Hale for rescuing you. But I still don’t understand why he didn’t bring you straight home or at least send for me.”
“I didn’t tell him who I was.”
“But why?”
“I wasn’t ready to go home.” His tone was unflinching in its honesty.
Katherine’s heart felt like it was being crushed. Had she failed him so terribly?
Their mother had died when Frederick as just an infant. With their father’s recent untimely death, she and Frederick had become wards of their great-uncle, the Marquess of Warfield, whom they’d never met. Their solicitors had sent word to the marquess, but the man was off in Europe somewhere and had no intention of returning. Honestly, his lack of interest in taking on his guardianship duties was welcome. Katherine and Frederick had no desire to fall under the thumb of a stranger.
But perhaps moving to London while their home was rebuilt hadn’t been the best decision.
Katherine had seen the changes in her brother since they’d left Lincolnshire—his growing distance and solitude—and she’d tried to give him space while letting him know she was always there for him.
It must not have been enough.
She studied him now as she forced herself not to take his rejection personally. At twelve years old he was nearly as tall as she was, would likely pass her height within the next few months. He possessed the long-limbed form of a boy on the verge of growing into a man. In the last year, she’d become accustomed to seeing his widening shoulders bow with uncertainty and grief. She noted how often his focus turned inward as his smiles became less and less frequent and the conversations that used to go on for hours between them grew shorter and shorter.
But now, as he stood before her, she noted something different and undeniable.
His posture was strong and straight, while his gaze was direct and confident. There was a new maturity in his expression and in his manner. And she sensed something else.
Purpose.
Katherine bit the inside of her lip to keep herself from forcefully hauling her brother into her arms. He was too young to look so independent. “I don’t understand.”
His eyes darkened around a flickering inner light as his jaw tightened. When he spoke, it was with calm conviction. “I couldn’t leave her, Kit.”
And suddenly so much made sense. The reason Hale had been there to rescue the children, the way little Claire clung to Frederick and the way he had looked back at her...as though he’d protect her with his life. “Claire was one of the other children being held in the warehouse,” she whispered.
Fredrick nodded and his brows furrowed over a haunted gaze. “She was so scared, Kit. And so small. The smallest of all of us. Claire wouldn’t let anyone near her except me. They had the biggest of us chained to each other, and though I could have picked the locks myself, I couldn’t figure out a way to escape and safely bring her with me. I had to stay with her no matter what came next. And then when Mr. Hale came for us...she barely knew him and she was still so scared.” He turned toward her. “I’m sorry, Kit. She needed me. I couldn’t leave her. Not until I knew she’d be safe here.”
Aching for him, she turned and clasped his hand in both of hers. “You are the most noble person I know. Of course you couldn’t have done anything else.” She paused and tilted her head. “And is she? Safe here?”
Frederick nodded. “Mr. Hale is rough around the edges...and probably straight through, as well. But he’s determined to do right by his daughter.”
“It won’t be easy to say good-bye.”
Looking down at his hand clasped in hers, he took a long breath. “I know. But I’ve been talking to her. She’s known from the beginning that I wouldn’t be able to stay forever, that I’d have to leave someday. It’ll be difficult, but she’s a brave girl.”
“I’m so proud of you, Frederick. Your strength through his whole ordeal is inspiring.”
His dark eyes lifted to hers with a frown of consternation tugging down his brow. “I haven’t done anything you wouldn’t’ve if our situations were reversed.”
She wasn’t so sure of that, but it warmed her that he thought so. She rose to her feet and he followed suit. “Shall we go home?”
He nodded.
They walked downstairs side by side before Fredrick stepped forward to lead the way to the parlor. Entering the room, Katherine’s sight was assaulted by the décor, the flowered pink wallpaper, the ruffles and lace and plentitude of unnecessary objects scattered about on every surface.
How on earth could a man like Hale stand to reside in a place like this? It boggled the mind. Even more so when she caught sight of the large, muscled male stretched out on the rug in front of a delicate-looking sofa. He was lying on his side, propped up on one elbow as the little girl sat in front of him. They each had hold of a porcelain animal,
likely swiped from the considerable collection of figurines littering the room, and they appeared to be play-acting a scene.
Hale noticed their arrival first as he looked up without changing position. His dark green gaze fell on her brother with a flicker of curiosity—as though he were accustomed to quickly ascertaining the boy’s well-being—before shifting to Katherine.
As his focus found her, the depth of his regard changed. She felt it viscerally as his regard slid over her from head to toe and, when it returned to her face, the way his attention lingered intently. When she lifted a brow in response to his overt staring, his mouth widened in a brazen grin.
Heat lit within her and burned her cheeks, but she refused to glance away. Katherine wasn’t sure if she should be offended or confused by his behavior. He was such a different manner of man than she’d ever encountered before. Bold, crude, physical, and unapologetic. Did he look at all women the way he was looking at her—probing and assessing?
Before she could wonder any further, the little girl noticed them and scrambled to her feet in a rush to bring her small treasure to Frederick. “Fweddie, wookit piggie.”
The boy knelt down to examine the porcelain animal. “What a handsome little swine,” he replied softly, and the girl beamed in response, her blue eyes shining with adoration.
Katherine’s heart ached.
As the children continued talking in hushed voices, Hale slowly rolled to his feet. Katherine found herself amazed by the unique sort of grace in his movements. Again, she was surprised that a man in possession of such towering height and thick muscles didn’t lumber and lurch.
He didn’t. Not even a little bit.
Standing in the middle of the flouncy parlor, he looked incredibly out of place. And he seemed to know it as he glanced toward the sofa with a sardonic expression. “You’re welcome to take a seat.”
She shook her head. “No, thank you.” She glanced to Frederick. “We just came to say good-bye.”
Hale nodded, keeping his gaze focused on her. After a bit, she had to fight the urge to fidget. She spoke instead. “Frederick explained how he came to be in your company. There is no way to express my gratitude for your part in rescuing him from such a terrifying fate.” He tilted his head but didn’t reply. “I could offer a financial reward.”
He gave a soft grunt. “I believe you already did.”
Katherine lifted her chin. “I apologize for misunderstanding your part in the situation, but I would be happy to stand by my offer.”
“Since triple of nothing is still nothing, that’s what you owe me.” She opened her mouth to argue. The man deserved some sort of compensation. But he spoke first, lowering his voice so the children wouldn’t overhear. “I owed Freddie a debt. Now we’re even.”
She searched his rigid features.
Already this evening, she’d seen his mouth curved in a bold grin, tilted in an irreverent smirk, and curled into something resembling a snarl. As she watched, the momentarily serious press of his mouth began to soften. One side twisted slightly upward and she tensed. Lifting her gaze, she looked into eyes that glittered brightly with amusement and something else.
Heat rushed through her as she instantly recalled how he’d held her against the wall and the way his voice had growled dangerously in her ear. Her belly swirled and her legs became weak.
Oh my god! Could she be feeling desire for this great hulk of a man?
The idea was astounding, but as his smile deepened and the stirring inside her grew stronger, she had to acknowledge it wasn’t impossible. She was not a prudish sort, and at twenty years of age, she wasn’t entirely ignorant of the concept of lust, though she had very limited experience with it personally. Still...what she felt in response to Hale was overwhelming and entirely unexpected.
Locking her knees, she tightened the muscles around her spine. “We should be going.”
Hale held her gaze for a moment longer before extending his hand to Frederick. The firm handshake and curt nod appeared to say more than any words could have. And Frederick seemed to understand perfectly as he lifted his chin and nodded in return.
When the brute turned back to her, he offered neither handshake nor nod. Just an intensely focused stare as he lowered his chin to a cocky angle. “Lady Katherine.”
She arched a brow to show his irreverence meant nothing to her as she replied, “Mr. Hale.”
But the way his lips pressed together as if holding back amusement before he rolled them in against his tongue had her disdainful expression sliding away as more fluttering sensations erupted in her core.
She glanced quickly to the children.
Although Frederick appeared his usual stoic self, Katherine could see the pain in his eyes after he gave Claire a heartfelt embrace. Then he stepped back to allow Hale to scoop the little girl up in his arms.
Cornflower-blue eyes welled with tears as the girl asked, “Fweddie be wight back?”
“I’m afraid not,” Frederick replied simply.
As Claire’s bottom lip extended in a pout that immediately began to tremble, Hale’s expression revealed a deep shadow of helplessness. It was there for just an instant and then gone again, and Katherine felt a brief compulsion to offer some sort of comfort or encouragement. Luckily, the moment passed before she had a chance to embarrass herself as he mumbled something to the girl about Frederick needing to go home.
Understanding that a quick exit might be best at that point, Katherine turned and placed a hand on Frederick’s elbow to lead him from the room. Once in the entry hall, they could hear soft, hiccoughing sobs and Hale’s low, rumbling tones as he tried to soothe the girl’s sadness.
Katherine’s chest tightened with regret, but there was no way to avoid certain partings. Glancing at Frederick, she could see he was doing his best to conceal his emotions behind a firm expression. He’d been through so much.
Chapter Six
The drive to Mayfair was quiet. Though she had her brother safely back in her care, Katherine couldn’t forget everything he’d told her about his abduction.
Or...abductions, rather.
Though Frederick’s cleverness had helped him escape the first kidnappers, his empathy and compassion had kept him in the clutches of the second. A shiver chilled her skin. If not for Hale, she might have lost her brother forever.
The Duke of Northmoor’s London residence was disturbingly quiet when they arrived, as it always was.
For decades, the house had kept a bare minimum of staff—just what was needed to maintain the place. And Katherine hadn’t bothered to hire on more even after they moved in several months ago.
Their father had not been a typical British aristocrat. He’d abhorred politics and disdained London and the society it kept. Considered an eccentric all his life due to his passionately erudite nature, Charles Blackwell had preferred to spend his life and raise his family in relative seclusion at the family seat in Lincolnshire. There, he’d spent the majority of his time in his laboratory in the east wing of their country manor, where he performed various experiments and studies to further his knowledge of herbalism and pharmacology.
With their mother gone and a father who was rather obsessively focused on his work, Katherine and Frederick had experienced an unusually independent childhood.
Katherine’s education was directed by a governess for several years until she outgrew the lessons provided and sought to expand her education via the books in her father’s extensive library and through practical application. By the time Frederick was old enough for a tutor, Katherine felt herself well prepared to take on the responsibility. But her brother soon surpassed her teachings in the way she had her governess’s.
Most people would have been shocked by the Blackwell children’s unconventional educations. But the duke encouraged their independence, likely because it allowed him to focus on his own work, which was far more important.
Katherine and Frederick had thrived in the freedom of their country upbringing, where they’d
had unlimited autonomy to roam and explore and simply be. But London was nothing like Lincolnshire.
Katherine understood what had driven her young brother into the streets of a city brimming with energy and life despite its somewhat drab and dreary undertones—such a significant contrast to the ever-spreading greenery and wide-open skies of home.
But the dangers of town couldn’t be underestimated. She’d have to make it clear to Frederick that such risky activities could not continue. Though she honestly hated the thought of it, she needed to start imparting to him the importance of his position as a duke of the realm. Their father had not put much emphasis on his title or social responsibilities, but Katherine had always assumed that when the time came, he would have at least given Frederick the information and resources to decide what kind of duke he wished to be.
Now that responsibility would be hers.
Not tonight, however.
Once home, Katherine directed Frederick up to his room for a long soak in a bath. “When you’ve freshened up, shall we gather in the upstairs sitting room for a light supper?” she suggested. “Afterward, perhaps we could play chess...or we could just talk.”
“I’m sorry, Kit.” His dark eyes quietly implored. “I’m content to be home again, but I think I’d prefer to turn in early tonight.”
Katherine nodded and offered a smile. “Of course.” She remained in the entryway, watching as he made his way up the stairs and noted once again how much more mature he appeared. His steps were surer, his gaze more level, the set of his shoulders stronger. It had only been a couple weeks, yet her brother had changed—inexorably.
The next several days were a struggle of trying to return to some semblance of normality. It became clear rather quickly that Frederick did not wish to talk further on the details of his ordeal, and Katherine did not press. She trusted him to come to her in his own time.
