by Anne Mallory
Jeremy’s eyes met hers. “Good-bye, Marietta.”
“Jeremy, wait.”
But he had already opened the door and slammed it behind him.
Marietta sank into her chair and looked at the papers before her.
Gabriel walked back in and clanged a pot on the high table. Then a spoon into the pot, then a container on the table. He started throwing things into the pot, and she stared numbly at his back.
He stirred the pot, his elbow making a small circuit. “We are going over to the East End tonight.” His voice was completely calm, as if nothing untoward had occurred, as if the spoon wasn’t scraping the sides and battering the metal.
“What?”
“Jacob Worley was spotted there. We are going to see if we can find him.”
“What about Jeremy?”
His shoulders tensed. “What about him?”
“Aren’t you going to do anything?”
“Yes, I’m going to find Jacob Worley.”
“No! Aren’t you going to do anything about Jeremy?”
“That is none of your concern.”
“You made it my concern when you argued in front of me. When you told me to sit.”
He continued stirring.
“You hurt Jeremy.”
“Marietta…” His voice was forbidding.
She argued with Mark all the time, but Mark had always been slightly apart from Kenny and her. This was more as if she’d argued with Kenny. To see his face like Jeremy’s had been.
“But—”
The spoon hit the bottom of the pot. “No!” His shoulders bowed forward. “You don’t understand. Please leave it.”
Her mouth parted. He had never said please to her before.
“Very well,” she said softly.
She moved to his side, picked up an onion and began peeling the skin. His shoulders relaxed a fraction and she said nothing more.
The tavern was dim and filled with less savory types. The Clerkenwell area taverns, though raucous and bawdy, at least had none of this overt sense of menace. The patrons’ shifty eyes and disappearing hands. Marietta touched the pistol in her pocket. Her lessons so long ago might finally be needed.
Gabriel threw a coin onto the table, and before she knew it two ales were in front of them. She worked up a smile. This ale looked about the same way the tavern did. Shady. There was something floating in the liquid that she didn’t want to identify.
The man who had delivered the mugs stood before the table, a towel over his shoulder. Gabriel held out his hand, and when the man shook it, a glint of metal passed between them.
“We’re looking for a man. About your height. Brown hair, blue eyes, with a scar running beneath his chin.”
“I might know who you’re talking about. What you want with him?”
“This is his sister. He hasn’t been home in a fortnight. Family is worried sick.”
Marietta read the look in the man’s eye. He didn’t believe a word, but then he didn’t look as if he cared either.
“Bad business making family worry. Bloke fitting that description was in here yesterday. Talked to Denise.” He pointed at a girl in a tight dress. “Moved off in a hurry.”
Gabriel handed the man another coin. The man walked over and said something to Denise.
Gabriel leaned into her. “What do my eyes say, Marietta?”
She jerked to look at him. His eyes were smoky and bright green. “They say you are intrigued.”
“Tut tut, Marietta. You are losing your touch.” A bit of challenge entered his gaze.
She swallowed. “They say you are about to kiss me.”
A slow smile worked over his lips. “Much better.”
“But we don’t need—”
His mouth swept hers. His tongue teased hers. His hands pulled her to him. Gabriel was never awkward or hasty. Always dominating. Always sure of himself.
He pulled away and she felt a quiver in her limbs. With one maneuver he could reduce her to jelly. No. Fire fueled her determination. She grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him forward. Doing everything he had taught her. Pulling him into her and sending herself back.
She released him, breathing heavily. He stared at her, eyes wide, shock in the green depths.
“You still need me over here? Roger said you wanted to talk, but methinks you might be wanting something else,” a voice said to her right.
Gabriel ignored the voice and continued to look at her, eyes back to regular size but unreadable.
Marietta gripped her mug and stared back.
Gabriel ripped his gaze away and motioned the woman to a seat. Denise sat. “Be needing a taste of another woman too? I can give you that.” She cackled.
“It was said you talked to a man with a scar last night,” Gabriel said, his voice clipped.
She took his measure. “Yeah, he was here. Took him home with me.”
“You took him back to your room?”
She shrugged. “Seemed nice enough. Average tumble, but most days are like that, aren’t they?” She gave him a once-over. “Other days promise a little more. Wouldn’t mind being between the both of ya if you promise more of that display.”
Marietta blinked.
“What can you tell me of him? Where did he go afterward? Did he say anything about where he would be?”
“Left right after. Most do. Said he would be back tonight. Not the first time that someone’s made that promise and not kept it.” She shrugged.
“Did he do anything odd?”
“Kept calling me Abigail. Told me to tell him he was a bad boy. Got to whip him. Right fun. Promised me more of the same.” She shrugged again. “Don’t really care what he calls me as long as I get me money. The whipping suited me just fine.”
“You whipped him?” Marietta wasn’t sure what she was more appalled by.
“Lor, some blokes like that. Where’d you come up from?” She looked her over, her eyes narrowing. “Ah, so you’s one of them. Getting your skirt up for the adventure.” She shrugged. “Might want to hide that accent.”
Gabriel squeezed Marietta’s suddenly tightened thigh. “Thank you.” He slid a coin over.
“I’m here anytime you have need of me.” She sent them a sly look and ambled off.
They left the tavern. Gabriel swore.
“He knew we’d be here.”
“Maybe he just figured it was time to move on.”
“No. Worley wouldn’t miss the opportunity for more of the activities she described. Not from what the investigator’s notes say. Somehow he knew we were coming.”
“What will we do now?”
“He’ll turn up if he doesn’t leave London. And Dresden is after him too. The roads will be watched.”
“Won’t they hold off Kenny’s trial, then?”
Gabriel grimaced. “No. We just have to provide enough evidence for him to get through it. I need to visit Cold Bath and give the latest batch of papers to Oscar. He will get them to your brother. Just hope that your brother will put his brain toward something other than the latest fashions.”
Marietta peeked under the bed. She had only ten minutes or so to locate it. Gabriel always went through his tasks quickly and efficiently. And Lord knew, Oscar didn’t waste any time on pleasantries.
It was always somewhere in his room where it didn’t touch his personal items. As if he couldn’t bear to hide it amidst his belongings. She’d made the mistake of going through his things once. They all smelled of him. Warm and protective.
She crouched on the floor and peered underneath the serpentine chest, cheek pressed to the hardwood. Success! Her knees squeaked against the wood planks and she pushed her hand to the back, grabbing the edge of the leather and sliding it across the floor.
She was morbidly lost in the words as soon as she opened the tome.
We’ll be moving to a new place for the summer. It will be painful not to see him, to hear his unwitting groans (how I ache just thinking of their music! so rare fo
r him these days!) and to be away from his stoic glare, but we have a new candidate while we are away. Nothing like our little avenger, but enough to let us play. And a tantalizing step into a new caste. I don’t know if it will be worth it, but C.F. assures that he will be.
Perhaps we can introduce him to our little avenger, should all go well. A.F. is anxious to have her titillations tested even before we’ve broken this one to the saddle. I see defiance already in the new one’s stare. He thinks he stands upon the world, but will soon discover that we stand upon all.
Footsteps alerted her and she shoved the book under the chest, then quickly rose and moved away.
Gabriel entered, his eyes immediately falling on her. “Such a fair presence in a rather boring bedroom.”
She smiled as brightly as she could manage.
“You were looking for the journal again, I see.”
She said nothing. He moved to the chest and tossed his cap on top. He turned and leaned against it, uncuffing one sleeve as he watched her.
“Not even a word in protest? I’m shocked, Marietta.”
She gave up her halfhearted pretense. “Why? You already know full well my purpose.”
“But not the reason behind it.”
She crossed her arms over her waist. “It’s interesting.”
“A madwoman’s rambles?”
“She wasn’t mad, not really. She was just not normal.”
A dark smile graced his features. “So few of us are.”
Frustration set in. “There is no reason for me not to read that journal. I’m a grown woman. You aren’t protecting me from anything.”
“Perhaps it is not you who I’m protecting.” He said it in such a casual manner as he undid his other sleeve that she had to repeat the statement in her head to understand.
“Who would you be protecting? You don’t know any of the people in the book.”
He stepped toward her. “What would you say if I told you that I did? That I knew everyone in that book?” He circled around her. She hated when he did that. It made her feel out of control and small.
“I would say that you were lying.”
“You wouldn’t believe me?”
“You would be lying about something. Whether it be this or your lies of omission at the beginning.”
“Ah.” He trailed a hand along her neck. “And you don’t forgive easily, do you, Marietta?”
“No.” It was a failing she had never been able to overcome.
“You still haven’t forgiven Mark. Or your parents. Or Kenneth. Or yourself.”
She stiffened. “I have nothing to forgive myself for.”
“No?”
“You are changing the subject. Do you know anything about the book?”
“Mmmm. Possibly. Possibly I know nearly every person referenced within.”
She spun, but he somehow stayed right behind her, his lips brushing her ear.
“What would you do to me if I knew? If I knew exactly who killed all those women and chose not to let your brother go?”
So this is what it felt like to be launched from a cannon. “What?”
“Would you feel betrayed? Have you fallen for me, Marietta?” His hands slipped down her sides and pulled her against him.
“What?” she whispered. It was the only word she seemed capable of speaking.
His lips touched her neck. “Have you fallen for me, Marietta?”
Sudden clarity pierced her panic. “You utter bastard.” She spun away from him. “You are testing me. Why do you do this? Have I not proven trustworthy? Have I not followed you blindly? I even gave you my virginity!”
“Do you think that I seek blind followers?” His eyes were unreadable and dark. Watching. Testing.
“I don’t know.” She wanted to scream. She wanted to leave. What right did he have, the utter cad.
“That kiss in the tavern—what were you trying to do?”
“My kiss? You always kiss me like that! How dare—what—how—when…argh!” She gave in to the urge. “You will need to admit me to Bedlam when we are through. Do you do this to everyone you work with? I’ll bet you did it to Oscar. He seems two steps away. What’s wrong with Anthony and Frank and Clarisse and Mrs. Rosaire?”
“I never did a thing to them.” The bastard had the nerve to look amused.
“I am the lucky one, then? Joy. So then, which is it? Testing me, or do you know who is in the journal?”
He looked away, toward the mounted clock. “I’m testing you, of course.”
“Always testing. What will happen…after?”
He leaned back against the wave of the serpentine chest and worked at the buttons on his shirt, sliding one out through the hole, then another, without looking away from her. “After?”
She kept contact with his incredible eyes. “After Kenny is free. Or if—” She rolled her lips in. “Or if he isn’t.”
“Are you asking what will happen between the two of us in that case?”
“Yes.”
He studied her. Then leaned forward and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers curling around the lobe. “That too will be your choice. I make no promises. I can’t. But I will not intentionally hurt you. To some, virginity is a sacred thing. For my own reasons I do not find it such. I value much more the choices one makes than the actual state of one’s chastity.”
“You have slept with so many?”
His eyes darkened. “Not so many as I see reflected in your gaze. While I find the pleasure usually to my taste, it takes much for me to find a partner that invokes it.”
“Then Carla?” She had been wanting to ask that question for weeks.
He looked amused. “Your maid? No, not to my taste at all.”
She thought of the pleasured noise the maid had made. The abundance of information he had gleaned.
“Ah, but you don’t believe me.” He tipped her chin up. “There is no way for me to prove it, and little reason for me to try at this stage. But I did challenge you to try and read me. And you were doing remarkably well.”
She looked in his eyes. Read the fire and truth there.
“The end of this endeavor may be a slippery thing. But the challenge will remain.”
His lips touched hers, just a fleeting touch.
“Do you continue to accept it?”
“Yes,” she whispered. Confused and warm. She wanted to understand him. She wanted the comfort and security she felt in his presence. She wanted him.
She just had to give up the control. Such a minor thing. Such a major thing.
He divested them both of their clothes quickly and pushed her against the wooden support of the four poster. Rocked her into it, teased her against it.
He took control just as he had before. Every time. Teasing and taunting her. Pulling her strings tight. Demanding her response. Responses her body was more than happy to give.
He laid her on the bed and connected them fully.
“What do you see in my eyes now, Marietta?” He pushed into her slowly. She could barely think straight. Could barely keep her eyes open and focused.
“What do you see, Marietta? Come, don’t make me punish you.” He withdrew so that just the tip of him was encased, making slow circles at her entrance, her hands bunching the sheets beneath to keep from hugging him and forcing him back inside.
“I want to know what those lovely brown eyes see.” He made a quick stab, only halfway in, and her breath caught, a gurgle escaping her throat. “Tell me, Marietta, come on, lovely one,” he coaxed.
What was he trying to get her to say? She’d tell him anything at this point!
He thrust all the way in, pushing her up the sheets, and her entire body moaned. Her hand wound around his neck, into the silky dark hair at his nape. He stopped moving, another form of torture. She tried to move beneath him, but he had her pinned below. He was leaning fully on his hands, the muscles in his arms bunched and tight, so the top half of her was free, but the pivotal point for her to move b
elow was in his total control.
She squeezed him inside, desperately trying anything, intuitively doing the only thing left that she could. He went totally still. She squeezed him again, and a third time, the squeezes getting weaker but her desperation growing—hoping that they would make him lose control and move again.
He leaned down and chuckled in her ear, his hips rotating and making her forget to squeeze. “You are a naughty woman, Marietta Winters. I think your naughtiness should be rewarded. But first you have to answer my question.”
He thrust deeply again. Darkness covered her vision for a moment, her mouth opened in a silent scream. He pulled back so that he was almost out. An ache throbbed through her so intensely that she nearly begged for him to end it. To continue it. To give her more.
A tongue swiped her nipple. His roughened cheek grazed her throat, her cheek, as his lips trailed across her and settled on her open mouth. She kissed him, pulling him against her, her hands still wrapped in the hair at his nape. His tongue invaded her mouth and claimed her. He slipped a little farther inside her from the movement and she tried to squeeze him again.
His mouth pulled away from hers and she found herself looking into brilliant green eyes, brighter than she’d ever seen them, almost too bright to look at, no more than a few inches above her own.
“I see desire.” She licked her lips, the taste of him all over her. “And secrets still beyond my understanding.”
“Yes. And?”
She didn’t want to say what she saw there. It would be too embarrassing were she to be wrong. “Friendship?”
Now he just looked amused.
“Companionship?”
His lips quirked. He leaned down and his breath brushed her ear as he gently sucked on the lobe. “Interesting. Do you want your reward?”
Her heart picked up its beat once more. “Yes.”
He moved inside her, a soft thrust that lit her nerves on fire. He moved again, slowly and deeply, hitting a place far up. Her cheeks were aflame, her throat on fire. There was a lovely feeling of completion moving toward her. It wouldn’t take a minute more.
