by Merry Farmer
He growled as she positioned him in exactly the right spot, then pressed into her as though he couldn’t resist the temptation she offered him. They both gasped and cried out as their bodies joined. Noelle felt herself spiraling toward completion already as he rocked in and out of her.
“I shouldn’t,” Ram sighed, strained, moving slowly inside of her. “I should protect you, keep you out of danger, but I want to come inside of you so badly.”
The mere hint of their lovemaking producing new life left Noelle shivering with need. “I want that too,” she gasped, moving her hips against him. “Please.”
That was all the encouragement Ram needed. His careful, measured thrusts changed to deep, desperate plundering. The surge of energy as he let go of his reservations and loved her was beyond anything Noelle could have dreamed of. She was mewling and gasping in time to his thrusts within seconds. When her orgasm exploded with an intensity she hadn’t known was possible, she cried out, reveling in the sensation.
He wasn’t far behind her. He sighed in time to his thrusts, then tensed and cried out as he spilled himself inside of her. The amazement Noelle felt at their joining left her floating on a cloud of joy. This was where she wanted to be. This was where she belonged.
“Ram, I lo—”
Her breathless declaration was cut short as a door opened and shut downstairs. Moments later, the sound of Sam and Louise throwing a tantrum carried up the stairs, followed by stomping footsteps.
Noelle and Ram both tensed to rock-hard panic. “They’re home,” Noelle whispered.
Ram shifted to his side, cradling her protectively. “They won’t come up here,” he said. “They have no reason to think I’m home.”
No sooner had he made the assumption, then Ajay’s voice called, “Ram? Are you home?”
Ram swore in his native language, leaping out of bed and reaching for his trousers. Noelle sprang out of bed as well, her limbs having a hard time obeying with the speed she knew she needed. Her clothes were scattered across the floor, and she scrambled as silently as she could to gather them.
“Ram?” Ajay’s questioning call came once more. This time, slow footsteps leading up to the attic—one soft, one hard like a stick—followed.
Ram swore again, throwing his shirt on and fumbling to fasten his trousers. Noelle had barely started to dress when there was a knock on the door. She thought as fast as she could, tossing her clothes onto the bed and yanking the blankets up to hide them. A second knock sounded, and she dropped to the floor, rolling into the tight space under the bed. She heard a chair scrape at the small table at the other end of the room seconds before the attic door opened.
“You are here,” Ajay said. Noelle could just barely see his damp boot and the peg of his missing leg step into the room. “Why didn’t you answer when I called?”
“Why would I want to speak to you after the way you insulted my friend?” Ram fired back, a little too breathless.
There was a long, dangerous pause. Noelle fought to keep from breathing too loudly as she watched Ajay’s boot and peg shift. He must have been looking at the room, studying it. Perhaps leaning against the bureau for support. She swallowed hard, praying that it wasn’t glaringly obvious that she was or had been there.
At last, Ajay cleared his throat and turned back to the table. “You need to be more discriminating in the friends you make,” he said.
The chair scraped, and Noelle watched as Ram’s bare feet stepped closer to his brother. “Who I befriend is none of your business,” he said. Noelle winced. He sounded far too out of breath to have been sitting alone in his room for the past half hour.
“It is my business,” Ajay argued. “It is quite literally my business. You are using my money to finance your shop.”
“The shop has nothing to do with Noelle.”
Noelle winced again, feeling as though the use of her given name was too much of a hint of how close she and Ram really were.
Ajay paused before answering, and Noelle could only imagine his expression. “Is this the way you talk to the brother who has put a roof over your head and food in your belly?”
“I could easily live on my own with what Captain Tennant pays me.”
“Then do it,” Ajay said. “And while you’re at it, finance your shop on your own too.”
Ram let out a breath. His feet shifted anxiously. “You know that I need your support to follow my dreams, brother.”
“I do,” Ajay answered. “Which is why I’m telling you to cut ties with that fortune-hunting American.”
“She isn’t a fortune-hunter,” Ram insisted. “Noelle is a beautiful, industrious woman. She came here to work, to start a new life, just like we did.”
Ajay snorted.
“I intend to marry her,” Ram said. Noelle held her breath, prickles breaking out across her skin. She questioned whether it was wise for Ram to make that declaration when things were so tense.
“But you barely know her.” Ajay seemed to confirm her fears with a scoffing laugh. “She isn’t an appropriate woman,” he said.
“She’s the woman I love,” Ram said.
“Ram, I am only looking out for your best interest,” Ajay said with a sigh, as though his patience were at an end.
“My best interest is marrying the woman I love, a woman who will make both my life and my store that much better.”
“But you don’t know that,” Ajay argued. “You’ve only just met the girl.”
“I know enough to know Noelle is a good person and that we belong together.”
“You are my brother, Ram. I care for you, and I will not let you make such a rash mistake,” Ajay snapped.
“I will marry her.” Ram took another step toward Ajay. “Whether you approve or not. I will marry Noelle and prove to you that she is worthy.”
“Then you will discover some other means of earning the capital you need to start your business,” Ajay said without pause. “I won’t throw money away to a fortune-hunter.”
“Noelle will add to my business.” Ram stood toe to toe-and-peg with his brother. “She can only help. She will make things better.”
“Women have no place in business, and I will not see you distracted by one as you attempt something so risky,” Ajay said as though riding over something Ram tried to say. “That is the end of this matter. You cut ties with your friend or you can look elsewhere for help starting your business.”
Without giving Ram a chance to say more, Ajay turned and marched out of the room as fast as he could, slamming the door behind him.
CHAPTER 7
N oelle stayed where she was under the bed, closing her eyes, her heart thudding against the dusty floorboards. She was a fool to assume that Ram could help her without suffering repercussions. Marrying him would be a beautiful, dazzling dream. But it could only be that—a dream. In reality, there was too much at risk for her to indulge in fantasies.
“He’s gone,” Ram whispered. He moved to the edge of the bed, kneeling down to peer at her. “Ajay is gone.”
Noelle opened her eyes. Ram’s brother might have been gone, but their problems loomed as large as ever. She sighed, sliding herself gingerly out from under the bed, covered in a fine layer of dust.
“This isn’t going to work, Ram.” She stood, brushing the dust from her bare skin.
“Ignore him.” Ram shook his head, helping Noelle brush away the dirt. “Ajay can only see things from his own point of view. If he thinks I’m not serious about you, he’ll soon see how wrong he is. You will be an asset to my store.”
Noelle listened, trying to smile, trying to believe him, but her heart felt as though it were weighted with lead. “Your brother raises some good points, whether you want to admit it or not.” She threw back the bedcovers, retrieving her clothes and dressing.
Ram frowned, handing her each item of clothing as she needed it, his expression stubborn. “Don’t tell me that you agree with him.”
Noelle sent him a stern look as she tied her pet
ticoats. “Opening a shop is a major endeavor. Do you really want to be saddled with someone who will depend on you for everything? I can’t even keep a job in a café.”
Ram shook his head. “I already said you can have a job working for me.”
“When?” Noelle asked, shimmying into her skirt. “Will your shop be opened tomorrow?”
“It will be opened soon enough,” he argued.
“And in the meantime, I have no income to bring in, nothing to offer.”
“You have plenty to offer,” he insisted, louder than he should have. Noelle waved her hands to get him to be quiet, then shrugged into her blouse. A splash of color darkened Ram’s cheeks, and his eyes grew wary. “You haven’t changed your mind, have you? You do want to marry me, right?”
Noelle winced. “I want that more than anything, but it would be selfish of me to continue to want something that will hurt you.”
“Enough of this,” he said, too loud once again.
Noelle’s eyes flared wide, and she held a finger to her lips, but Ram ignored her.
“I love you,” he whispered, stepping closer to her and holding her arms. “All the shops and riches in the world would mean nothing to me if I didn’t have you by my side.”
Nicolle’s heart felt as though it were melting and burning simultaneously. “Are you certain, Ram?” She placed her hands flat on his chest. “Ajay is right when he says we barely know each other. What if this is just a passing fancy? What if we wake up a year from now hating each other.”
Ram arched a brow. “Do you really think what is happening between us is temporary madness?”
Noelle lowered her head. “No,” she admitted, barely above a whisper. “I love you too.” She glanced up to meet his eyes.
Ram smiled, then leaned in and stole a light kiss. “If we love each other, we can make anything possible.”
She wanted to believe him. More than anything, she wanted to believe that love conquered all, just as the poets said it did. She wanted to believe that her second chance at a happy life would include all the love she could imagine and more. But even after they were fully dressed and wrapped up, after Noelle snuck out the back, Ram left his brother’s house through the front door, and they met up at the end of the road to stroll through the city together, Noelle felt more hopeless than confident. They shared supper at the Red Lion Inn, a noisy but clean pub closer to the docks where Ram knew the innkeeper, lingering in the stuffy warmth until well after dark. Then they snuck back into Ajay’s house for the night.
That didn’t mean that Noelle was at ease with the arrangement, or that she was able to sleep for more than a few, fitful hours. By the time the cold, grey, morning sunlight seeped in through the patched curtains over Ram’s window, she had come to a decision.
“I’m going to try to get my job at the café back,” she whispered as they washed and dressed the next morning. “And I’m going to demand that Mr. Platte pays me what he owes me.”
“What?” Ram blinked at her. “What if you can’t? Why go back to work for a man who didn’t pay you?”
“Because it’s the only option available to me right now,” she sighed. Ram opened his mouth to argue, but Noelle raised a hand to stop him. “I know what you’re going to say—that London is a huge city and there are any number of jobs I could get. But the simple fact is that I haven’t gotten any of them.” Ram tried again to interrupt, so she pressed her fingertips to his lips. “If we are going to be married, then the sooner I am gainfully employed, the sooner I’ll feel comfortable taking that step.”
Ram relaxed, his mouth stretching into a smile under Noelle’s hands. He kissed her fingers, then said, “All right, if that’s truly why you want to darken Platte’s doorstep again, then I give you my blessing.”
Noelle smiled, they shared a kiss, then finished their morning routine. But as soon as she had crawled out the window into the icy dawn and descended to the street below, all traces of her smile vanished. She hadn’t lied to Ram, not truly. She did want to marry him, and everything would be easier if Mr. Platte could be made to see reason. If not, though, she couldn’t force Ram to sacrifice his business for her. She could fend for herself…and lose him forever.
She tucked her hands into her coat pockets, all too aware of the card from Lord Shayles, its corners cutting into her hand as she flipped her collar up and began the long trek across London to Oxford Street. The distance had felt much smaller riding in a wagon. On foot, Noelle was astounded by just how big the city actually was. She tried to look at things from Ram’s point of view. There were indeed dozens of shops, cafés, and pubs. Hundreds. Perhaps there was hope after all.
By the time she reached the familiar, rich warmth of the café, Noelle felt that maybe the world was hers to conquer after all. She tilted her head up, marching toward the back of the café to say her piece to Mr. Platte and demand her money.
But before she was even halfway to the back of the room, Mr. Platte stepped out from the doorway leading to the kitchen. He wasn’t alone. Lord Shayles followed, his coat so black it seemed to soak up all light and joy from the café, his blonde hair as bleak as the January morning. The two men were conversing, Lord Shayles with a sly grin and Mr. Platte with a puffed-up, offended look. They both stopped suddenly when they spotted Noelle.
“Ah, speak of the devil,” Lord Shayles said.
An acidic feeling of dread filled Noelle’s stomach. “Mr. Platte, I’ve come for the money you owe me.” Noelle stuck to her plan, but her voice was far weaker than she’d hoped it would be.
“You.” Mr. Platte glanced to Lord Shayles as if confirming something, then marched out from behind the counter. Several of the patrons looked up from their snacks, eyes wide, ready for a show. “How dare you show your face in my establishment?”
“You owe me money, Mr. Platte,” Noelle said, but slinked back when Mr. Platte strode up to her. “I worked more than a week for you, but you haven’t paid me a thing.”
“Nor will I pay a scarlet woman like you,” he said. His flabby face wobbled with fury. “How dare you infiltrate a respectable café such as this with your sinful ways.”
“M-my what?” Noelle croaked. Her gaze slipped past Mr. Platte to Lord Shayles. Lord Shayles watched the scene with a self-satisfied smirk. The knot in Noelle’s gut squeezed tighter. She focused on Mr. Platte. “I don’t have sinful ways,” she insisted. She didn’t have them now.
“That’s not what I’ve been told.” Mr. Platte stepped forward, forcing Noelle to creep backward toward the door. “I’ve had it on good authority that you are no better than the strumpets at Seven Dials, and I won’t have it, do you hear?”
“Who told you I was a strumpet?” Noelle tried to keep her voice down, but every patron in the café was riveted to her drama.
“Lord Shayles,” Mr. Platte said.
“Lord Shayles?” Noelle let out a nervous laugh. “But he’s hardly the kind of man to—”
“Are you disparaging a member of the nobility, girl?” Mr. Platte raised his voice as if he wanted everyone in the café to hear, as if Noelle had committed a cardinal sin. “You dare question your betters?”
“But he’s not—”
“Out of my sight at once,” Mr. Platte barked. He pointed his finger to the door.
Noelle scrambled to find one last way to stand her ground, but the more she worked her jaw, looking for something to say, the more at a loss she was. Worse still, the patrons all seemed to agree that she wasn’t the sort who should be around respectable people. There was nothing Noelle could do but turn and dash out into the cold street.
She scurried past several more shops and businesses before slowing and hugging herself. Of all the ways that confrontation could have gone, that was certainly not what she’d hoped for. Worse still, Lord Shayles’s presence raised a hundred kinds of doubt about how other establishments might receive her. There was something decidedly sinister in the way he just happened to be at the café. She didn’t think his appearance at Ste
pney Green the day before was an accident either. How many other times in the last week had he spied on her without her knowing?
She came to a complete stop, at a loss for what to do. The icy wind nipped at her ankles and her neck. She needed to purchase a scarf and a hat, but every penny she spent on herself meant she would be that much more dependent on Ram. It seemed so unfair for her to ask so much from him, especially since she threatened his relationship with his family. If only she could—
“Miss Walters.”
Noelle gasped and twisted to face Lord Shayles. She hadn’t seen him leave the café and come after her, but she wasn’t surprised.
“Bad luck about Platte’s café,” he said, his voice more mocking than genuine. His mouth was stretched in the same, sly smile he’d worn in the café. “Men like Platte are so narrow-minded, don’t you think?”
“I needed that money,” she told him, frustration boiling over.
Lord Shayles shrugged. “Money is no problem. As I mentioned before, I have a job waiting for you whenever you want it.”
“I know exactly what kind of job you’re offering, and the answer is no.”
Lord Shayles sniffed. He raised a hand to study his black leather gloves, as if there might be a speck of dust on them. “Come now, Miss Walters,” he said without looking at her. “Platte might be narrow-minded, but you and I are citizens of the world, aren’t we? We understand each other.”
“No, Lord Shayles, we don’t.” As risky as it was, putting her foot down made Noelle feel infinitely better.
At least, until Lord Shayles sidled closer to her. “You should know,” he said in a low voice, “that Platte isn’t the only businessman on Oxford Street who has, shall we say, heard rumors about a dark-haired American woman with loose morals on the prowl.”
Noelle’s shoulders dropped as though she’d been punched in the gut. “What?”
Lord Shayles smiled at her with pretend sympathy. “Unfortunate, isn’t it? But it seems as though someone has made a broad-reaching effort to besmirch your name. Why, I doubt any of the businessmen for blocks would be willing to consider employing you.”
