Intimate 02 - Intimate Surrender

by Laura Landon

  Chapter 26

  Clouds covered the moon, and when they reached Covent Garden, the sky was more black than starlit. Hannah wished there would be at least a little moonlight so she could make out more than shadows, but that wasn’t to be.

  Humphrey was atop, and he drove her carriage down Bedford Street to the north Covent Garden entrance. The other men had gone to where Frisk and the others were waiting.

  When the carriage slowed to enter Covent Garden, Hannah clutched the pistol she had in the pocket of her skirt. She wasn’t fond of weapons of any kind, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t carry one, or that she didn’t know how to use it. She did. Any female who lived on the streets of London for any length of time not only knew how to use a gun, but wasn’t afraid to fire it.

  The carriage drove a distance into the Garden, then stopped. Hannah waited until Humphrey climbed down and opened the door.

  “Do you want me to go with you, ma’am?”

  “No, Humphrey. I won’t go far. You stay with the carriage. I’ll call when I have Delores.”

  “Do you think she’s still alive?”

  Hannah considered what answer to give to the question she’d refused to ask herself since she heard Skinner had Delores. “If Skinner is lucky, she is.”

  Hannah took a few steps into the darkness and stopped. She wouldn’t go any farther into Skinner’s area than she had to. Instead, she’d make Skinner come to her.

  She waited.

  Somewhere in the distance, Frisk and the others should be making their way toward them. Hopefully, they’d be in place before anything happened.

  Hannah waited a while longer, knowing patience was her friend. Knowing that Skinner would undoubtedly tire of waiting before she did.

  Eventually, her patience paid off.

  “Well, Madam Genevieve,” Skinner voiced in a raspy tone.

  Hannah couldn’t see him, but that wasn’t necessary in order to recognize the menacing tone in his words.

  “Delores, are you there?”

  For a second or more, there was no answer. Then the response wasn’t a word confirming Delores was alive and well, but a barely audible moan that proved the opposite. The pitiful whimper in the darkness sent shivers of anger and fury raging through Hannah. Delores was barely able to utter a sound.

  “Bring a light, Stump,” Skinner ordered one of his men. “I’m sure Madam Genevieve would like to see her friend and make sure she’s all right.”

  Within seconds, a man carrying a lantern walked toward Skinner and held it over Delores’s head.

  “You bastard,” Hannah growled.

  Delores’s face was so bruised and swollen she was hardly recognizable. The dress she’d been wearing was torn and hung in strips on her body. Hannah didn’t want to imagine what had been done to her.

  “Bring her over,” Hannah ordered.

  “And if I don’t?”

  “You’re dead.”

  Skinner laughed. “Such threats, Madam Genevieve. And from a delicate creature such as yourself.”

  “You won’t think I’m such a delicate creature when you have a bullet lodged in your flesh.”

  Skinner laughed again. “I believe it’s time for you and me to come to an understanding, Genevieve.” Skinner pushed Delores forward and stepped closer so Hannah could see her more clearly. “I’m giving you back your whore because I want you to make sure the rest of your girls see her. This is what will happen to every one of them if they dare try to steal any of the girls I recruit to work for me.”

  “Recruit?” Hannah asked. “You don’t recruit them, Skinner. You steal children from their homes and families. You take advantage of the weak and helpless and destroy any hope they have for a future.”

  When he spoke, Hannah could tell her words struck a spot with Skinner. The tone of his voice turned harsher, and he spoke through clenched teeth.

  “You’re terribly brave for a lone woman facing me and my men. Or is your vicar hiding in the shadows waiting to come to your aid?”

  “No, Skinner. My vicar is not here. I made sure he is no longer where you can harm him. Unlike you, if he had discovered you’d put a marker on his head, he would have faced you man-to-man. Instead, you hire the dregs of humanity to do your work for you because you are too much of a coward to face him yourself.”

  “You bitch,” Skinner bellowed. “If I didn’t know it would cause such an uproar, I’d kill you myself.”

  “Try it and you won’t live long enough to take your next breath,” Hannah replied.

  Hannah looked at Delores, then turned her gaze back to Skinner. Her fingers itched to pull out the gun she had in her pocket and put a bullet through his heart. But she hadn’t reached the point where she could kill someone who wasn’t armed.

  “I think I have let you be the thorn in my side long enough, bitch,” Skinner said. He pulled a pistol from his pocket and pointed it at Hannah.

  “I wouldn’t try it, Skinner,” a voice bellowed from behind her. She recognized it as belonging to Frisk.

  “What the hell,” Skinner said, staring at the movement from behind her. He motioned for his men to come forward. About twenty men came from the shadows, all carrying pistols.

  Hannah wasn’t sure how many men Frisk and the other bordello owners could gather on such short notice, but from the surprised looks on Skinner’s men’s faces, they were outnumbered by more than just a few.

  “You’ll regret this, Frisk,” Skinner threatened. “You’ll regret siding against me.”

  “You’ve bullied and threatened us long enough, Skinner. We’re through taking orders from you.”

  “You think you can stand up to me?” Skinner bellowed. “None of you are big enough.”

  “Maybe not alone,” Tumbler said. “But we’re not alone any longer. We’ve joined forces against you.”

  Skinner snarled a low growl, then focused his rage on Hannah. “This is your fault,” he roared. “You’ll pay for this.”

  Before Hannah could move, Skinner aimed his gun in her direction and fired.

  She waited to feel the pain from the bullet she knew had struck her, but she felt only a small sting, as if her arm had been pricked by a needle.

  She wasn’t sure what happened after that. The firing of gunshots echoed in the air. When she looked up, Skinner was lying on the ground in a pool of blood and his men were nowhere to be seen.

  “Are you all right?” Dalia whispered from behind her.

  Hannah tried to turn, but her legs suddenly didn’t want to support her. She staggered, then dropped to her knees.

  “Genny?” Dalia called out again.

  Hannah looked up to see Dalia and Humphrey rushing toward her.

  “Genny, are you all right?” Dalia asked.

  “I think so,” Hannah answered. “Where’s Delores? Is she all right?”

  “I’ll get her. Humphrey, help Miss Genevieve to the carriage. We’d better get out of here before the authorities come.”

  Dalia ran to help Delores, and Humphrey helped Hannah to her feet.

  “Can you walk, Miss Genevieve?”

  “Yes, Humphrey. Just give me your arm.”

  Humphrey held out his arm, and Hannah leaned against him as they made their way to the carriage. She climbed inside and sank against the cushions as Dalia helped Delores inside.

  “You’re safe now, Delores,” Hannah said. She tried to sound confident, but she didn’t have enough strength to speak louder than a whisper. “We’ll be home soon,” she said when the carriage lurched forward.

  “I’m glad he’s dead,” Delores muttered bitterly. “I would have killed him myself if I’d have had a chance.”

  Hannah opened her mouth to tell Delores she understood, but no words would come out. She tried again, but blackness overtook her and she knew no more.

  “It’s about time you woke up,” Dalia said from a chair beside her bed.

  Hannah looked around the room and noticed the sun peeking through the draperies. “What time
is it?”

  “Nearly four o’clock. You almost slept the day away. How do you feel?”

  “Like I’ve been shot.”

  Dalia laughed. “Doctor Blevins said that’s what you’d feel like.” Dalia rose from her chair and poured some water into a glass. “Are you thirsty?”

  Hannah nodded.

  Dalia helped her take a drink of the water, then Hannah dropped her head back against the pillow. “How’s Delores?”

  “She’s as fine as she can be after going through what she did.”

  “Tell her I’ll come to see her as soon as I’m able.”

  “She knows you will. She’s more worried about you than herself. All the girls are.”

  “Assure them that I’m fine.”

  Dalia sat again. “Do you want me to send for him?”

  Hannah didn’t pretend not to know who Dalia was talking about. She knew her friend meant Rafe.

  Even though she knew Dalia’s intention was good, the reality of what had happened was still painful. Rafe had walked out of her life. She’d made sure he’d seen her for what she really was—a prostitute who sold her body to the highest bidder.

  “No, Dalia.”

  “He may not be gone yet, Genny. Maybe he hasn’t left London. Skinner’s dead now, so he’s not a threat to your vicar any longer.”

  Suddenly, Hannah’s heart ached more than her arm. “It’s too late. He made that clear last night when he won me but didn’t want me. And he won’t change his mind. I finally convinced him that I’m a prostitute.”

  “But maybe now that Skinner’s dead you can—”

  “Go, Dalia. Assure the girls that I’m fine. Then tell Delores I’ll come to see her as soon as I can get out of bed.”

  Dalia didn’t insist again. She knew Hannah’s mind was firm as far as Rafe was concerned.

  Hannah closed her eyes and waited to hear the door close behind Dalia.

  When the latch clicked, she allowed the last tears she would shed over losing Rafe to run down her cheeks. She allowed herself to mourn, because the only man she would ever love was dead to her.

  Now if only she could survive long enough for her heart to discover a reason to continue beating.

  Chapter 27

  Rafe leaned his back against a tree near the stream and remembered the first time he saw Hannah sitting on the bank with her feet dangling in the water. He could still see her lithe figure as if she were still there, still see her tipped-back head as she let the sun’s rays beam down on her. Still see her long lashes as they rested on her cheeks.

  He breathed a painful sigh as he tried to ease the heavy weight that pressed against his chest.

  It had been nearly two months since the night of the auction, and he missed her as much today as he had the day he’d left her. He wasn’t sure then that he could live the rest of his life without her, and he was less sure today.

  He’d expected Hannah to do all the changing, expected her to believe that he could pretend her past had never happened. Pretend that she was a different person than who she truly was. That was why she’d held the auction—to put who and what she was in terms he couldn’t misunderstand. To show him that she was a famous prostitute, and if he wanted her, he had to accept that.

  He remembered asking her to go away with him and pretend to be someone she wasn’t. He knew now that she’d been right all along. There wasn’t a chance in the world that she wouldn’t be recognized. Or that he wouldn’t have to leave one congregation after another in disgrace when the parishioners discovered that the vicar’s wife was the famous Madam Genevieve.

  But most humiliating of all was that he had truly expected her to sit in the front row at Sunday church services and pretend to be someone she was not. How could he have been so insensitive? How could he have been so cruel?

  He’d only been thinking of himself—what he wanted, what he didn’t want to give up. Not what Hannah would have to give up to leave with him. Not what she would have to suffer to make him happy.

  And, most important of all, not rescuing the scores of innocent children from the streets of London. That made him the sickest—that he had put his own happiness before the welfare of children.

  Hannah’s goal to save the children Skinner would sacrifice to the most evil of humanity was a thousand times more Christian than his goal to build a parish overflowing with saints. He counted his accolades by the number of praises he received after ever Sunday service. He measured his worth by the admiration and acclamations he received from the saints he shepherded.

  Why hadn’t he realized before now that the saints didn’t need him? The helpless needed him. And he’d turned his back on them.

  But Hannah hadn’t turned her back on them. She had more Christian compassion in her little finger than he had in his entire body.

  Rafe pushed himself to his feet and took a step toward Wedgewood Manor. There were times when he couldn’t stand to think about what he’d done. This was one of those times. He was glad Caroline had invited him to join them. Her sister and brother-in-law, the Duke and Duchess of Raeborn, were visiting, and for this one night at least, maybe their conversation would distract him from thinking about Hannah.

  He cast a final glance back to the place where he’d first seen her, then walked through the grove of trees and across the meadow that took him to Wedgewood Manor. He handed his hat and gloves to the Wedgewood butler, then made his way to the parlor. He could hear voices coming from inside and knew that’s where they’d gathered.

  “Did you see her when you were in London?” Caroline asked.

  “Yes. We met the same as we used to. It was so good to see her, although…” The Duchess of Raeborn paused.

  “Is something wrong?” Caroline asked.

  Rafe waited. He knew better than to eavesdrop, but he thought the women were talking about Hannah, and he wanted to hear what they said. He knew if he joined them, they wouldn’t be as honest with him there.

  “She’s not happy, Caroline. The laughter that used to be in her eyes was absent. The excitement I always heard in her voice wasn’t there. Even the delight at seeing me wasn’t as evident.”

  “Did she say what was bothering her?”

  “She denied that anything was bothering her. But it was obvious that something was. And I think I know what it is.”

  There was a long pause before Caroline spoke. “It’s Rafe, isn’t it?”

  “I’m sure it is.”

  “Oh, Grace. I wish I never had invited her here last summer. If I hadn’t, she and Rafe would never have met.”

  Rafe couldn’t stand to listen to any more. He stepped through the door, then stopped when everyone’s gaze focused on him.

  “Don’t ever be sorry that we met, Caroline.” He walked toward them. “My life is so much richer because I met Hannah.”

  “But you are both so unhappy.”

  Rafe shook his head. “That’s not your fault. Nor is it Hannah’s. The fault is mine.”

  “No, Rafe. You’re—”

  Rafe held up his hand to stop Caroline’s words. He slowly shifted his gaze to where the Duchess of Raeborn sat. “You understand what I’m saying, don’t you, Your Grace?”

  The Duchess of Raeborn didn’t speak, but the look in her eyes said she knew exactly what he meant. “Would you please offer your opinion? I would truly like to hear what mistakes you think I made.”

  “You won’t like what I have to say, Lord Rafe.”

  “No, I won’t. But you will probably not say anything I have not already told myself.” Rafe sat in a chair facing the duchess. “I would appreciate your honesty and forwardness.”

  The duchess smiled. But it was not a happy smile. Rather, a smile filled with regret. She looked him in the eyes and began.

  “Unfortunately, you tried to change Hannah, Lord Rafe. You tried to make her into something she’s not. You refused to accept the fact that Hannah is Madam Genevieve. And Madam Genevieve is a whore.”

  “Grace!” Caroline cl
asped her hand to her breast. “Hannah isn’t—”

  “Yes, she is, Caroline. She is a prostitute.”

  “Your Grace,” Caroline said, addressing her objection to Grace’s husband, the Duke of Raeborn.

  “I’m afraid my wife is correct, Lady Wedgewood,” Raeborn answered. “Hannah is a fallen woman. She has been for nearly fifteen years. Whether or not she still practices her illicit trade doesn’t change what she is.”

  “And you tried to change her into something she’s not,” the duchess continued. “It’s impossible for her to take her place in the front pew of your church when you preach. And that’s what you wanted her to do. Am I correct?”

  Rafe nodded. “Completely.”

  “You were ready to accept her past as long as she pretended to be a good, pious Christian to the people in your congregation.” Her Grace paused. “Your mistake was that you tried to make her into something she wasn’t. You expected her to live in fear every day of her life that someone would discover her past. And what was your answer if her past was discovered?”

  “I told her we would move to a place where no one knew her.”

  The four people in the room sat in silence. There was nothing they could say. Nothing that could shed a more favorable light on what he’d expected from Hannah.

  “Oh, Rafe,” Caroline said. “Why did you want Hannah to change? Don’t you realize how much good Hannah does? She rescues children from a life on the streets. She helps the people who really need her and tries to make a difference in their lives.”

  “I know,” Rafe answered. “But I loved her so much I was desperate for the world to know her and see her as I did. I wanted her to be accepted for the wonderful person she is. I didn’t realize that by doing what I wanted her to do, she would have to give up what was the most important to her. I didn’t understand what wanting these things for her would seem like to her.”

  “She’s in love with you, Rafe,” Caroline said in a choked voice. “You’re the first man she’s ever loved.”