A Warriner to Protect Her

by Virginia Heath

  Layton. When this was all over, he promised himself he would enjoy making the weasel pay for his part in harming Letty. But not tonight. In the nick of time he remembered that calling him by his real name would tip the man off.

  ‘Mr Smith? What brings you here at such a late hour?’

  The scarred man leaned sideways to look suspiciously past him down the hallway before returning his gaze to Jack. ‘Sorry for the unexpected disturbance, Mr Warriner, only we are still looking for the missing girl. After talking to some of the locals and after having been informed your estate was quite extensive, not to mention so remote, it occurred to me that Violet might have taken refuge here somewhere.’

  The man’s pale eyes searched Jack’s expression for any sign of emotion which might give something away. He forced himself to appear amused. ‘With your reward now at a princely five hundred pounds, you can be assured if either myself or my brothers had seen her, we would have delivered her safely back to you immediately.’

  Layton smiled, although his eyes remained cold and inscrutable. ‘I am sure you would, Mr Warriner. I am certain five hundred pounds would be extremely useful to a man in your position...’ He would pay for that comment, too. ‘However, the young lady in question is a resourceful thing. In her panic, she may well have ensconced herself in one of your outbuildings without your knowledge—’

  Jack cut him off curtly. ‘In her panic, Mr Smith? I thought the girl had been kidnapped.’

  Layton never missed a beat. ‘We now believe she may well have escaped her abductors, Mr Warriner. We have still received no ransom note and a few of the locals have mentioned seeing a young girl of her description on the night in question. They say she was all alone and obviously terrified.’

  Jack had never seen a person lie so effortlessly. Nobody else had seen Letty, on the night of her escape or since. The only people who knew for certain she had been alone on the road hereabouts at that particular time were her abductors and him. The only truth in Layton’s claim was the fact Letty had been terrified. That, Jack had seen first-hand. Now he knew exactly who her abductors were, the need to cause Layton harm was visceral. But Letty’s continued safety depended on his performance right this minute.

  ‘Perhaps you had better come in, Mr Smith. Seeing as the rain has stopped, we can all search the outbuildings together.’ For effect he called to his brothers. ‘Joe, Jacob—fetch some lanterns. We need to go outside.’ Jamie would guard Letty in his absence.

  The three interlopers stood in the hallway and Jack did not leave their side until Joe and Jacob came to relieve him. Both had donned coats and serious expressions. Jamie limped behind them, his limp more pronounced for dramatic effect. As he had hoped, his brother knew exactly what do without Jack needing to explain. For good measure, Jamie behaved exactly like a Warriner was expected to behave.

  ‘If she’s in our barn, then she’s ours until you pay us for her,’ he said with an unpleasant leer.

  Layton eyed him with hostility. ‘Perhaps...’

  ‘There’s no perhaps about it. If she’s there, none of us will let her leave without our pockets being filled with that five hundred pounds.’

  Jack stepped in. ‘Now, now, Jamie... We can discuss terms if we find her. I won’t let them sell us short either. Follow me, gentlemen. If there is a reward due, we’d best get to it.’

  * * *

  They had trudged through the house noisily, their heavy boots echoing on the old wooden floor below, yet even when all she could hear was silence, Letty refused to move from her position on the landing. Hearing Layton’s voice just a few scant feet away had rendered her almost frozen with fear.

  ‘Go into your bedchamber, Letty. And for God’s sake don’t light a candle. Sit on the bed and don’t move. We don’t want that man hearing a sound from upstairs. He’s a canny one. And no matter how much you are tempted to look, stay away from the blasted window as well. One of us will tell you when the coast is clear.’ Jamie’s hushed voice floated softly up the stairs and gave her some comfort. For a brief moment, when she had heard him talk so convincingly about wanting the reward money, she had wondered if he might betray her. Now she felt ashamed at the thought.

  ‘Thank you, Jamie,’ she whispered and did exactly as he said.

  The minutes ticked by slowly. Occasionally, she saw the light of one of the lanterns reflected on the walls of her bedchamber or heard muffled male voices. One thing was for certain, the search was a thorough one. Letty did not know whether that was at Jack’s insistence or Layton’s, but she told herself it was a good thing. If their search proved fruitless, then they would surely be less inclined to come back.

  After what felt like hours, she finally heard the men stomp back into the house, where their conversation continued until she was so jumpy and panicked she could barely hear the words over the noise of her pulse beating in her ears. Snippets of conversations wafted through.

  ‘We will keep an eye out...’

  Jack’s voice. ‘She might well be dead...’

  Jamie. ‘Nobody could survive the elements for this long without shelter...’

  ‘Could she have found someone on the road travelling back towards London?’ That came from Dr Joe.

  They were putting doubts in Layton’s mind. Even when she heard the front door creak open and heard it close firmly behind them again, she could still not bring herself to move from her position perched on the edge of the mattress. Jamie said one of them would come when it was safe, and right now, being safe was her only priority.

  More silence stretched out ahead of her. When Letty thought she would die from the not knowing, she finally heard footsteps on the staircase and instinctively held her breath as they moved swiftly towards her door even though she knew, in her heart, they were friendly feet.

  ‘It’s me, Letty.’ She slumped at the reassuring sound of Jack’s voice and felt tears wet her cheeks as the door cracked open. ‘They’ve left. Jacob and Joe have gone to secure the gates.’ Fear had closed her throat, making a verbal response impossible, so she nodded slowly and tried to stand, only to find her knees would not support her either. ‘Hey—don’t cry.’ He crossed the room in three long strides and sat down beside her on the mattress. ‘I think we did a pretty good job of convincing them you weren’t here. They should leave us alone now.’

  Hearing Layton’s voice again had reminded Letty of how precarious her situation still was. ‘Th-thank you.’ Her voice caught on the final syllable and to her complete horror she was unable to stem the flow of tears which were now pouring down her cheeks. When Jack wrapped one strong arm tightly around her shoulders and pulled her closer, she burrowed against his chest and wept, conscious of the fact she was behaving like a silly dolt, yet desperate for the comfort and protection he offered.

  His other arm came around her and he rested his chin on the top of her head, rocking her slightly as he soothed her with gentle words. ‘It’s all right, sweetheart. You’re safe now. I promise.’

  Letty did feel safe with him, but still she could not stop crying. After the worst of the racking sobs had subsided, Letty tried to speak.

  ‘I w-was having such a l-lovely evening—for a while I had f-forgotten about it all.’ She had as well. Despite the disastrous dinner, the easy banter and the sense of camaraderie this evening had been something special. Letty could not remember ever feeling quite as comfortable anywhere, not even her private rooms in her house in Mayfair. For a while there she had been part of the family. Except they weren’t her family. She was the interloper and they had generously taken her in out of the goodness of their hearts. Her only family member had sold her to a complete villain without so much as a by-your-leave, for his own financial gain. Letty was nothing but a healthy purse to him. And Bainbridge. The thought of him sent ice through her veins. They were hot on her heels and baying for blood.

  Letty’s blood.


  She knew too much.

  Jack must have seen the panic on her face. He cupped her cheek with his palm, swiping away the fresh tears she had not realised were still falling with his thumb. ‘We knew they would come here at some point. Layton’s visit was inevitable. If anything, I am angrier at myself. I should have known they would turn up as soon as the weather eased. When it stopped raining earlier, I should have insisted the gates be closed before we had dinner. But they came, and they are none the wiser. I doubt we will see them any time soon. You don’t need to dwell on it for every second of every day, Letty.’

  ‘But the threat is still very real, isn’t it? They haven’t given up. Even after a fortnight, they are still here. L-looking for me.’ Fresh tears threatened, but she ruthlessly fought against them. Self-pity was not going to keep her alive. Crumbling in Jack’s capable arms would only ever bring her temporary relief as well. In a few weeks, she would have to return to London and use the power of the law to bring her uncle and Bainbridge to justice. Then she would be alone again in her big house in Mayfair, where there were no noisy males to laugh with and nobody who cared one whit about the real her. Funny, a fortnight ago, she had never wanted to leave London. Now, she could scarcely imagine wanting to go back.

  Letty moved to sit upright, but Jack’s arms tightened around her protectively and held her so close, she could feel the steady beat of his heart against her own ribcage so she allowed herself this brief moment of comfort. Her own heart swelled and tried to match its rhythm, as if they were meant to beat together in harmony. She felt his warm breath in her hair. ‘They still have no idea what happened to you or where you are. I will keep you safe, sweetheart, in whatever way is necessary, for as long as it takes.’

  Letty melted against him, needing the contact. However, it was not only the comfort of his arms she craved. Being held by Jack Warriner was a heady experience. He was so big and solid. Commanding. When he said he would keep her safe, she believed him. Time and time again he had proved himself to be trustworthy. Loyal. Kind in his own brooding way. And she liked it when he called her sweetheart. Perhaps far more than she should. Letty tilted her head back to gaze up at him. ‘I can’t stay here for ever, Jack. Can I?’ Please tell me I never have to leave, she thought, hoping he would hear her. Because suddenly, staying here with Jack felt like exactly the right thing to do. She belonged here.

  Didn’t she?

  She certainly felt more herself here than she did in any of the London ballrooms. There, she had to be Violet Dunston, wealthy society beauty, but somehow separate from the proceedings. Human contact was transient, meaningless. The world only saw the confident heiress, not the lonely, uncertain girl beneath. The one who had no one who really loved her, yet everyone believed they knew her because they had read so much about her. Letty had read those same accounts, bemused. She did not recognise the frivolous, but much-emulated creature they wrote about, the girl whose concept of fashion was exquisite. Who danced like an angel floating on air. Whose laugh was like the gentle tinkling of a stream. However, the more nonsense she read about her mythical self, the more Letty pathetically tried to live up to the ideals. More and more new dresses, elaborate hairstyles, honing her skills at flirtation or eyelash fluttering and practising her laughter in the mirror so that the sound of it in public did not disappoint. At best, she had become a spectator to her own life, more concerned about what others thought than being true to herself.

  And all for what? A bunch of acquaintances who never thought to look past the façade? All of them far more impressed with her money than with the girl. It was laughable, how empty her privileged existence actually was. Internally, she craved a life enriched with love and genuine purpose, not money, yet she played to the gallery regardless. The Duke of Wentworth was actively courting her, yet he had no idea he was courting Violet Dunston the Tea Heiress, and not her, Letty, at all. She had not even sought his opinions on her grand plans to create a foundling home. Why not? Did she really care if he disapproved? Or was she as indifferent to the perfect Duke as she was to her empty shell of a perfect life? Things she would happily walk away from as soon as she took control of her fortune and began her life properly.

  Here she was Letty. Nobody cared if her hair wasn’t correctly dressed or if she snorted when she laughed or failed disastrously at cooking. Being part of this family was wonderful. Bizarrely, being the butt of their jokes was also wonderful and already she dreaded leaving them. Her life in Mayfair would feel sterile in comparison. But she dreaded leaving Jack the most.

  There was something about him which drew her and tugged at her heart more than any man ever had before. When she was with Jack, she could scarcely remember what the Duke of Wentworth looked like. That was hardly a surprise when Jack Warriner was quite the most spectacular specimen of a man she had ever encountered—but it was more than just his good looks that enticed her. Everything about him appealed to the woman within and his sense of duty went above and beyond. Even now, despite all of his many heavy responsibilities, he was trying to take away her pain and fear by absorbing it himself. Making her problems his and asking nothing in return.

  How utterly romantic was that?

  Without thinking, Letty snuggled her cheek against his chest contentedly and sighed. Except, the sigh sounded more like a groan of pleasure than an expression of relief. Probably because being held by him was pleasurable. In his arms, she felt dainty and womanly—while he was just so manly and strong. Letty allowed her hand to snake up to rest on his chest, splaying her fingers so that her palm could touch more of his body in one go and revelling in the solid feel of him. Wanting even more.

  They stayed like that for almost a minute, just holding each other, until something shifted in the atmosphere between them. His eyes were still locked with hers, but his breathing was shallower. Next to her his heartbeat was quicker and she suspected hers was, too. She watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed warily and realised it was she who made him wary. Not Layton or Bainbridge. Her.

  He was not immune to this intense attraction either, yet he held himself rigid, maintaining the small distance between them because, despite his rough edges, he was a proper gentleman who would never take advantage of her. Yet Letty desperately wanted him to. Her arms brazenly wound her way around his neck and she watched his eyes darken. He stared down at her for several long seconds without releasing his tight hold on her, his mouth hovering only a few inches away from hers, giving her hope that he also felt the intense pull of desire she did, that she had not imagined the tension between them when he had lowered her from the chandelier, but then his blue eyes became stormy. His features troubled. Another minute and their perfect moment of connection would be gone. She was damned if she would let that happen again. Letty closed the distance between them and pressed her lips softly to his.

  * * *

  He’d almost kissed her. It took every ounce of willpower Jack possessed not to claim her mouth with his and demand she never leave him when he had thought he’d heard her ask to stay. Letty belonged here. In his house. In his bedchamber. In his arms...but common sense intervened. The girl was overwrought and understandably scared for her life. Taking advantage of her while she was this upset would make him the lowest of the low. No better than the vile Warriners of old and his father in particular. A man who had compromised a vulnerable heiress to get his hands on her fortune. Jack sincerely doubted anyone would believe he was not a chip off the old block if he actively pursued his attraction to Letty. She did not belong here—her real life was in London and it was the sort of life so far removed from his own that to fool himself she would seriously consider staying in this house, with him, was beyond even the realms of fantasy.

  Jack had been about to put some distance between them, for his own heart’s safety, because he feared the yearning he experienced was threatening to burst forth, leaving him exposed and vulnerable, and doomed to be in receipt of
her pity. Then miraculously, it had been Letty who had kissed him and, like a starving man at a banquet, all his body could do was satisfy the physical need which had consumed him from the first moment he had seen those bare legs displayed beneath the hem of his shirt.

  One gentle brushing of lips was never going to be enough to sustain him for a lifetime, so Jack kissed her again with more urgency than he had intended, pouring all of the unexpected tenderness he felt for her into it until the emotion threatened to choke him. It made his mouth more passionate than it should have been, a kiss that should have terrified an innocent like Letty. Yet she met his lips with the same enthusiasm, winding her arms tightly around his neck as he hauled her into his lap roughly and dragged her womanly body flush against his. Because he had to, Jack buried his fingers in her hair, sliding off the ribbon which bound it back until the riotous curls sprang free.

  When he felt the seam of her mouth relax, the kiss became more carnal. He explored her mouth thoroughly with his tongue and teeth and then trailed heated kisses along her throat, surprised by her needy passion and revelling in the way she arched against him in mindless desire. Through the soft, worn linen of the matching shirts they both wore, he recognised the pebbled hardness of her nipples against his body and found his hands stroking up the side of her ribcage in search of better contact. Letty did not appear to mind his presumptuousness. If anything, she welcomed it. As his hand cupped one soft swell reverently, she pressed it urgently against his palm and purred with satisfaction. Her own hands tugged his shirt from the waistband of his breeches, then burrowed underneath the fabric to stroke the skin on his back.

  Blinded by another surge of desire, he eased her back on to the mattress and allowed his mouth to trail moist, searing kisses across her collarbone, then down on to the upper swells of those lush breasts. Her ribcage was rising and falling rapidly and she sighed his name with her eyelids closed, her head writhing against the sheets with each impertinent flick of his tongue. Jack’s fingers pushed the fabric aside and touched her properly. Her puckered nipple hardened further when his thumb grazed it. Simultaneously, the motion caused his groin to tighten more and he kissed her deeply to hide his own needy moan. God, he wanted to be buried inside her. Deep inside her, branding her as his for ever.