Wounds of A Viscount: (The Valiant Love Regency Romance) (A Historical Romance Book)

by Deborah Wilson

  “And what of you?” Andreas asked on his behalf. “You’re no longer trying to protect yourself?”

  Van Dero seemed to age further. “The others are gone. I don’t know how you’re doing it, but… I’m all that is left. I’ve come to see it pointless to fear my own death, but I beg you to leave my son alone.”

  “Is Gregory guilty?” Andreas asked.

  Van Dero glared at Garrick, though his fear was clear. “My son is no saint. None of us are. You may think you are on a path of righteousness, but you are not.”

  “I’m well aware of the path I’m on,” Andreas said for him.

  Yet strangely, the deaths did not haunt him at night for, as Van Dero had stated, no man was a saint. Every man Garrick had killed had been guilty of far more than imprisoning five lords. Some had raped women. Abused children. A few had taken the lives of the innocent and desperate. Garrick had decided that if he came across a single man who’d changed his life in the last few years, he would let him live.

  But none of them had. Their acts had only grown worse. It was how sin worked. Like a poison, it left one tainted and if allowed to go on, the poison would spread.

  Garrick kept it from spreading. So instead of the faces of the dead filling his dreams at night, it was his time at the hands of Mr. Goody that tormented him. The beatings had become more severe as the years went on. Goody was angry that Society didn’t accept him. He’d been glad to take the lords, because it meant he had the company of the upper crust.

  But when angered, it was Garrick who suffered. James wore the marks of Goody’s blade on his face, but Garrick wore them on his back. Whips and cuts, all shallow, not enough to kill him, only to make him beg for death.

  Every man responsible would pay.

  “Enjoy your evening, Lord Van Dero. You never know if it’ll be your last.”

  Garrick left before Andreas even finished saying the words, then they were back out into the night with no one the wiser.

  “Shall I return home?” Andreas asked when they began to move through the back streets of London.

  “Yes,” Garrick said.

  “You won’t need me at Lord Ganden’s?”

  “No.” Everyone there could understand him, which he was glad for.

  They parted ways at the next block and then Garrick continued on to Kent’s.

  When he arrived at the house, he saw a man standing across the street, staring up at Kent’s home. Garrick hadn’t seen him when he left and only realized someone was there because the man had moved.

  It could be nothing. The evenings were busy in Mayfair. Hackneys and private carriages still rumbled down the brick roads. The fashionable moved in and out of other homes, their conversations loud in the night.

  Yet the man stuck out amongst the elegant. His clothes were those of a servant and he was staring intently.

  He looked familiar as well. His nose was sharper than most. He was also very tall.

  Perhaps, he was only being suspicious, because of his own activities that night, yet there was also the danger surrounding Nora. Was this the man she feared?

  Garrick made a move in the man’s direction, yet as he crossed the street, the man jerked, as if he recognized Garrick, and dashed away.

  Garrick watched him leave and narrowed his gaze. He couldn’t run after him. Already, there were those on the road who recognized him in the lamplight. He smiled and dipped his head to a few before starting for Kent’s.

  Now, it was really time to talk.

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  1 8

  * * *

  “Yes?” Nora called when there was a knock at her door.

  The door opened and Garrick stood there. He looked magnificent in his coat and dark inexpressibles. The thin and tight trousers had never looked so good on a man. Not even Lord Brummell himself. If one dared to look hard enough they could see… everything. Garrick didn’t even need the false calves that other men sometimes wore. It was clear he was all real and very much male.

  Thankfully, tonight, the trousers were black and helped retain some of Nora’s sensibilities.

  His shirt was black as well. Was he in mourning? He stood tall and bold. His eyes caught hold of hers and then he was moving toward her. His hands were moving, but she couldn’t pull herself away from his eyes.

  He stopped a foot away from her. He was signing, likely had been for a time, but she’d yet to look down again. Then something passed in his hard features and in the next instant, his hand cupped her jaw, and he forced her face forward for a mind-numbing kiss. Nora’s senses exploded as he forcefully invaded her mouth.

  She was dizzy when he broke away. Aside from her lips, she hadn’t moved since he’d stepped into her room. Her hands still rested at her sides. They were limp. Useless. Her mind was the same, barely managing to understand what was happening.

  He smiled, cupped the back of her neck, kissed her again, ever so sweetly, and then pulled away. Then slowly, very slowly, he forced her head down.

  “Why are you wearing a cloak?”

  A cloak.

  She gasped. He’d seen her in her cloak. She’d been about to leave. She’d seen Clive in the study reading half an hour ago. He’d paused long enough to tell that her Garrick was gone for the evening.

  The brothel, she’d told herself, and had tried to ignore the sharp pain in her chest. He wasn’t hers. So, she’d thought it the perfect opportunity to leave and hunt for evidence against her brother.

  Yet now he was here, and she was caught.

  “I was cold.”

  “You’re lying.” He looked enraged. “Who was the man across the street? The one staring into your window. Were you meeting him?”

  “What?”

  “The man had a hard nose and was tall.”

  She spun around and looked out the window but saw no one. Then she turned back to Garrick. “There was someone out there? Are you sure?” Fear seized her.

  Garrick wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. He held her for a moment and then led her to a chair. He knelt before her and began to sign, but she was too frightened to understand anything.

  There was someone outside, staring into her window.

  Meri.

  Or maybe one of Meri’s men. He was watching her. He’d likely always been watching her. It was the only thing that made sense. How else would he have known so quickly about her husband’s death? And she’d almost gone out tonight. Had the man followed her on the other nights? Did he know what she was up to? What would Meri do if he found out? Would he hurt her? Then Miriam would be all on her own.

  Garrick grabbed her head. “Nora.”

  “There was someone out there?” she whispered in a strangled voice.

  He let her go and signed slowly, “Tell me what is going on.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t.”

  He growled. “If you are in danger, I need to know.”

  She shook her head again, but now her entire body shook. “Garrick, I can’t…”

  He cupped her cheek and simply stared at her for a while. His eyes overpowered her thoughts, mastering her mind and body. Then his hand trailed down her jaw and over her lips and she was overcome with need.

  He pulled his hand back. “You have nothing to fear. I will never let anything happen to you.” He then gave her a look that asked if she understood.

  She took a calming breath and nodded. He was right. She would be all right. For reasons she didn’t understand, she trusted Garrick with her very life. He would never let anything happen to her. She was safe. Miriam was safe. “I need to see Miriam.”

  He nodded, stood, and reached for her hand.

  They walked to Miriam’s room together. He held her hand the entire time. In silence, she opened the door and glanced inside. The fireplace gave enough glow for her to see Miriam’s form under the sheet, but Nora needed to touch her.

  She moved forward, and Garrick moved with her.

  She touched Miriam’s long braid and pulled back th
e strands that covered her face. She touched her daughter’s cheek. Miriam adjusted in her bed but didn’t wake.

  Garrick let Nora go and moved to Miriam’s window. Was someone out there? He turned to her. “I’m going to look around outside. Stay here.”

  She nodded and he left.

  Clive came in a moment later and whispered, “Garrick told me to come up here and stay with you. What is going on?”

  Nora sighed and wondered how long she could hide onto the truth and her part in it. She stood and moved to the door so as not to disturb Miriam. “He said he saw a man outside, looking up into my window.”

  “Who was it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Why would a man be staring into your window?”

  She shrugged. “An admirer, perhaps?” She tried for a smile but didn’t quite accomplish it.

  Clive frowned. “Nora, eventually, you’re going to have to let us help you.”

  “You are helping.” She touched his arm. “Being here for me and Miriam is helping.” But would it be enough?

  Garrick returned. “There’s no one else out there.” He turned to Nora. “Who was that?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Clive said, “She claims it may have been an admirer.”

  Nora’s cheek grew hot. She hadn’t meant Garrick to hear that.

  Garrick’s gaze snapped back to her, and he looked her over before turning to Clive. “Wake a maid. We’ll move a bed into Miriam’s room and have her sleep in here with her.”

  Clive nodded, but before he left, he touched Nora’s arm. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  Nora swallowed and turned to Garrick. “Thank you for—”

  He took her hand and walked with her back to her room.

  “Remove your cloak. I’ll be back in half an hour.” He was gone before she could say a word. Why was he returning? What else was there to discuss tonight? If he thought to get more out of her, he would fail.

  Deciding to be wise about her time, she readied for bed and then put on a robe just in case he did return. The knock came exactly thirty minutes later.

  “Come in.” She was sitting on her bed, braiding her hair. She was fully clothed, yet still, she was nervous. “But I’ve nothing more to say.”

  He closed the door behind him and stared at her.

  Nora looked away. Her night rails had become her most expensive purchases in the past. Even though no one but Miriam saw them, the pale superfine had been a small reminder of the life Nora had once had and the one she would have again once she saw Meri imprisoned. “Is Miriam all right?”

  A movement made her turn, and she stilled as Garrick began to remove his jacket.

  She finished her braid and stood. “What are you doing?”

  He tossed his jacket onto the chair in the corner. “I’m making myself more comfortable. Miriam didn’t wake once as the maid moved into the corner of her room. She’s fine.”

  Nora couldn’t help herself. Her gaze took a full sweep of his masculine form, and she couldn’t help but recall just how better he’d looked while wet with sweat dripping down his form. She watched him remove his cravat and then he sat and began to remove a boot. “W-what are you getting comfortable for?” Did he think…? She gasped. “I’m not sleeping with you. This is not a brothel.”

  His hands stilled on his boot. He glared and then straightened. “I know exactly where I am and who I am with.”

  “Then what are you doing?”

  “I already told you.” Once in his bare feet, he stood and moved to her bed. Then he sat, turned his limbs, and stretched out on the bed. His hands went behind his head, and he sighed with contentment.

  Nora didn’t move. He looked good in her bed. Larger even. The room was already small. The bed was even smaller. She didn’t know where to go or what to do. If he was there, where was she supposed to sleep?

  He’d closed his eyes when he’d laid down, but then he opened them and looked at her. He patted the space next to him on the bed.

  “Absolutely not. I already told you—”

  “I won’t touch you.”

  “Then what are your intentions?” she asked.

  “I intend to watch over you.”

  All night? “And you intend to do so from my bed?”

  “If you are disturbed in the middle of the night, I will know.”

  She saw his point; however, there was no way she’d fall asleep with him next to her. “What about the chair?”

  He leaned up on an elbow and gave her a narrow look. His dark hair fell to one side. As she stared at him, she couldn’t help but wish she knew how to paint. She would capture him just as he was.

  “I could sleep in the chair,” she offered, though it wasn’t what she truly wanted to do.

  His expression didn’t change. “Come here.”

  She jumped back. She’d been unprepared for his voice. The words he’d chosen to break the silence with made the sudden ache between her legs worse. “No.”

  “I can come and get you.”

  She stomped a foot. It didn’t matter how childish she knew it to be. She was frustrated in far too many ways. “Garrick, I… We shouldn’t.”

  He placed a hand on his chest, then signed, “I swear I won’t touch you... even if you beg me to.” He grinned.

  She scoffed and then laughed. “I will never beg you to touch me.”

  “Never say never.” He patted the bed again. “You are safe with me.”

  She did feel safe with him around. The fact that there’d been someone staring into her window was still unsettling. What if Garrick hadn’t seen them? What if they’d tried to get in? She took a step toward the bed and said, “Did you actually see someone on the street? You’re not making that up just so you can sleep in my bed, are you?”

  He rolled his eyes and even that move was attractive. His hands rested on the sheets.

  It was a ridiculous question. Garrick didn’t have to beg for sex. He had a horde of women available to him. A harem.

  Yet he was here tonight.

  Could she trust him?

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  1 9

  * * *

  Garrick took deep breaths and tried to calm his body as Nora moved toward him. Her clothes moved in a seductive dance with the way they gripped and released from her curves with her every step, catching the lamplight with the swish of her hips.

  He’d watched women train in the art of sexual persuasion, yet none of them came close to Nora’s allure.

  She sat on the edge of the bed and watched him warily. He thought that good. He was still trying to calm his body where she was concerned.

  She tilted her head and held his eyes. “I’m sorry if I ruined your plans for the evening. I know you’d rather be somewhere else.”

  He was right where he wanted to be. While they’d overseen the bed being brought into Miriam’s room, Clive had volunteered to sleep in the hall outside Nora’s bedchamber, but Garrick had told him not to worry. Nora would need no one’s protection tonight but his.

  Already, Clive was catching on. There was something going on between him and Lady Honora Baxter.

  When she’d first arrived, he’d wondered how a woman with a child would willingly live with the Earl of Ganden. London had painted Kent to be a barbarian, yet now he suspected that Kent’s legend was exactly the reason she’d come. Just how long had her problem been following her?

  Instead of marriage, she’d chosen service.

  Garrick was starting to hope he could convince her to come live with him instead, not as his servant but his mistress. Now that he went over her words on marriage, she hadn’t seemed at all enthusiastic about it. Could she be persuaded in that direction?

  He wasn’t sure. It would change things for her, make her less respectable. It was the only reason Garrick said nothing, had yet to say anything. He couldn’t bear the thought of anyone thinking her beneath them.

  It was likely that all he would get from her was tonight. Th
e smell of her body in the sheets. Perhaps the feel of her hair at some portion in the night but nothing more. She was like the moon. Beautiful and predictable in its ways, yet forever a mystery and ultimately out of reach.

  At least for someone like himself. A killer.

  He shouldn’t be in her room right now. He shouldn’t even be in her bed, yet he was.

  And so was she.

  “Nothing is more important to me than your safety.”

  She smiled, but he could see the vulnerability in her gaze. “Are you sure this is safe? You and me in the same bed?”

  “Yes. I am strong. Do you remember when you told me that?”

  She laughed. “Yes, I remember, I just can’t understand why you do. I’d been playing with George and Miriam in the garden.” She looked away in thought and then at him again. “We’d been running. I was very tired. It’s the only excuse I can think of that would make me say what I dd.”

  He chuckled. “I was under a tree. You came to me. You were out of breath.”

  “I don’t know what made me say what I said to you. Honestly, I don’t.”

  He smiled. He knew what had made her say it. At least, part of it. She’d been playing a game with George. It had been the perfect day. Everyone had been in high spirits. “You came over and asked, ‘Are we being silent today?’” He laughed.

  She cringed and blushed. “It was a terrible and insensitive question.”

  He’d thought it strange at the time but had continued to listen only because of the humor that had been glittering in her eyes. No one had ever teased him about his muteness. No one had dared. Everyone either ignored it or pitied him, but not Nora. Not that day.

  “After that, you said, ‘Well, you can be as silent as you want, but I know your secret.’” Her eyes had taken on a devious gleam after that, and he’d desperately wanted to know what the secret was.

  She hadn’t disappointed him. “‘You’re the strongest man in the whole world,’ you declared.’”

  It had been the strangest conversation Garrick had ever experienced. She’d sprinted away after George after that, but her words had stayed with him, lingering and burrowing in his chest.