by Candace Camp
She shrieked and tried to struggle to her feet, but Patrick, far heavier than she, rolled over on her. She kicked and punched at him, but he lay where he was, and she could not roll him off or squirm out from beneath him.
Charity recovered her breath and began to struggle with Hubbell, hitting and kicking at him. He put his hands around her throat and began to squeeze, and, as his arms were much longer than hers, her blows fell harmlessly on his arms.
She heard her name bellowed outside, but she couldn’t get out even a squeak. Something pounded against the door, once, then twice, and suddenly it flew open. Just as black began to creep around the edges of her vision, a large furry thing launched itself straight at them.
It knocked Hubbell’s arms aside, and air once again rushed down Charity’s painful throat. Lucky, wriggling all over, paid no attention to the man he had dislodged but proceeded to lick Charity’s face.
Hubbell roared in rage and tried to kick out at Lucky and scramble to his feet all at the same time. But before he could manage to rise, Simon was upon him, pulling him up by his collar. Simon hit the man flush on his jaw, then delivered another blow to his stomach. Hubbell bent over in pain, and Simon finished him off with another hard fist to his chin. The burly man went down on the floor like a load of bricks, making the ramshackle building shake.
Thomas, in the meantime, had gone to help his fellow footman, who was still draped over Theodora’s squirming form.
“Good God, man, wot you doin’ all trussed up like that—and naked as the day you were born?”
“Simon!” Charity at last gasped out his name as Simon turned from Hubbell and came toward her.
“Charity! Oh, my God, Charity, are you all right?” Simon went down on his knees beside her, lifting her up into a sitting position and cradling her to his chest.
“Oh, Simon!” Charity whispered hoarsely, and clung to him, unable to say anything more.
“Love, sweet love, tell me you’re all right.”
Charity nodded, saying nothing, simply holding on to Simon for dear life. He swept her into his arms and rose. He glanced back toward Thomas, who had cut through Patrick’s bonds with his knife and was busy wrapping some of the fragments of rope around the struggling Theodora’s hands. Theodora’s eyes met Simon’s. Her gaze was wild, the white showing around her eyes, and she began to scream imprecations at him.
Simon looked back at her with eyes as cold and hard as death. “You and Patrick take her to Scotland Yard, Thomas. I’m taking my wife home.”
Simon turned and strode out of the door, carrying Charity in his arms like a prize.
EPILOGUE
CHARITY LAY PROPPED up in bed, pillows behind her head and back, her hair loose and spread all around her. Dr. Cargill had come and gone, and Lily and the other maids and even the housekeeper had fussed around her, giving her hot tea and helping her into a nightgown, then settling her in bed. Simon had at last ordered everyone else out, leaving him alone with his wife.
He sat down now on the side of her bed and brushed a stray lock of hair back from her face. “Feeling better?”
Charity nodded. “Yes, now that we’re alone.”
Her voice was still hoarse from Hubbell’s hands squeezing her throat, but it was now firm and at full volume, unlike the faint, trembling voice that had first answered Simon back in the slums of St. Giles.
Simon took her hand and raised it to his lips, then turned her hand to lay her palm against his cheek. “Thank God you’re still alive. I am sorry, Charity. I did not protect you well at all. I almost let you get killed.”
“But you didn’t. You found me, and I am alive. That’s all that matters.”
He nodded and turned his face to kiss her palm. Charity thought she felt a trace of moisture on his face, but she couldn’t be sure. Was he crying? Her heart swelled within her, and she felt so full of love and happiness that she was not sure she could contain it. Two hours ago she had been struggling for her life, and now here she was, warm and well and loved, safely ensconced in her own bed.
“What happened to Theodora?”
“Patrick and Thomas were happy to take her to Scotland Yard after the carriage let us off here.”
“What will happen to her?”
“God knows. She will be hanged, I suppose, or perhaps sent to Bedlam. What mad idea possessed her, anyway? What did she hope to gain by killing you?”
Charity explained Theodora’s plan to a dumbfounded Simon. He shook his head disbelievingly. “God, how could she have thought—?” He groaned and turned to Charity, dropping his head to his hands.
“I never loved her. I don’t know what she told you, but I never loved her. I desired her once, it is true, but there was never love, only an exchange of her body for my money. It was no more than that, I swear to you.”
“I know.”
“Do you hate me?” Simon asked in a stifled voice.
“Hate you? No! Why would I hate you?”
“For having had a mistress.”
Charity reached out and laid her hand upon his arm. Softly, she said, “’Tis a practice that is not uncommon among gentlemen, I’ve heard. And it was before I even knew you, was it not?”
“Yes,” Simon answered fervently, turning to gaze into her eyes now. “It was. The day that I asked for your hand, I ended it with Theodora. I never dreamed that she would react so—I thought it was clear, that she understood. It was never aught but a business arrangement.”
“Much as our marriage was,” Charity murmured.
“No!” Simon looked shocked.
“At first it was,” Charity reminded him. “That was what you wanted. An heir from a wife of good family and spotless reputation, in exchange for the benefits of your fortune.”
Simon cocked an eyebrow at her. “Once I met you, it was never a business arrangement.” He leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead, then on each eyelid. “It was only desire…and good sense…and love.”
“Oh, Simon!” Charity threw her arms around his neck. “I don’t care if you had a hundred mistresses before you married. All I care about is now. All I want to know is that you love me, that you have no one else but me now.”
“You know that is true.” He kissed her again, lingeringly, on the mouth. “What about you?” he murmured when he raised his head at last.
“What do you mean? What about me?”
“Do you love me?” His face was carefully blank, but Charity could see the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. “Or is it still an ‘arrangement’ for you?”
“Once I met you,” Charity repeated his words, “it was never a business arrangement. I was terribly, terribly glad that Serena had not wanted to marry you. I love you. I’ve loved you for ages, since before the wedding. I realized it when you broke off the engagement, and I knew I would do anything to marry you. I love you, I love you, I love you.”
She began to kiss him all over his face, punctuating her kisses with more words of love. Simon chuckled and caught her face in his hands, holding her still while his mouth took hers. A long time later, he lay down beside Charity, gathering her into his arms.
“I don’t plan ever to let you go again,” he told her.
Charity closed her eyes. After a moment she murmured, “Simon, that little boy who helped me, the crippled child…”
She could feel the rumble of Simon’s laughter start in his chest. “Yes, my dear. Another stray. I shall send for him immediately.”
Charity smiled and snuggled up to him. “I knew you would.”
ISBN: 978-1-4268-4770-7
SUDDENLY
Copyright © 1996 by Candace Camp
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