by Clee, Adele
“Do it then.”
He needed no further inducement to kiss her in the wild, rampant way that had them writhing on the bed in an erotic dance. He was everywhere—consuming every part of her body. His potent essence swirled in her head. His masterful tongue plundered her mouth. He angled his hips, rubbing against her sex as his rigid shaft slipped into her, into her again and again with such skill.
The pleasurable waves gathered momentum with each undulation, taking her closer to that idyllic shore. Paradise was but a few thrusts away. The lapping sounds of their lovemaking, the slapping of their sweat-coated bodies only heightened her arousal.
She bit into his shoulder to muffle her cry, inhaling the earthy scent of his skin, and came apart with a violent shudder.
And while he found his release on the soft swell of her abdomen and his guttural groan punctuated the air, while he kept his promise and washed every inch of her skin with damp linen, only one thought came to mind.
She was in love with Noah Ashwood.
Chapter 13
Noah leapt out of bed the second the loud crash reached his ears. Thankfully, he’d struggled to sleep, his mind occupied with the beautiful dilemma stretched naked beside him.
“Eva, wake up.” He shoved into his breeches and threw on his shirt. “Eva!”
Hair mussed—and looking utterly irresistible—the lady raised her head from the pillow and peered through sleepy eyes. “Noah? What is it?”
“I’m not sure, but something is wrong.”
Something was dreadfully wrong. He knew it the moment he dashed out into the hall and the acrid smell reached his nostrils. He knew it before opening the door to Howard Dunn’s chamber only to be knocked back by a burst of orange flames.
Bloody hell!
“Fire!” Noah slammed the door shut. “Fire!” He raced back to Eva’s bedchamber and yanked the bell repeatedly.
“Fire?” Eva came up on her knees, her lush breasts stealing his attention.
“Quick. Get dressed. Run downstairs and wake the servants. We need water.”
The sudden hammering on the front door only added to the panic.
“That will be Bower.” He snatched the pitcher of water from the washstand and scooped up her discarded petticoat. “Let him in. Get him to help haul the buckets.”
Knowing he hadn’t time to waste, Noah removed his shirt, doused the linen and the petticoat with water, splashed what remained over his arms and chest. Then he charged back to Howard Dunn’s chamber and attempted to tackle the flames.
Black smoke rose from the coverlet, clinging to the ceiling, crawling this way and that like an evil spirit doing the devil’s work. The angry crackle of the beast on the bed would soon become a wild roar.
Holding the sodden garment aloft, he sidled closer and threw it onto the bed, smothering the flames. Before the fire sucked the water from the garment, he threw his shirt on top to bide time.
Bower appeared, empty-handed. “Stone the crows!”
“Quick! Fetch water!” Noah barked, but Bower was already bounding downstairs.
Eva arrived next, her silk wrapper hugging her body, her warm brown hair in disarray. The veins in her neck beat a visible pulse. “Good Lord!” With a shaky hand, she thrust a bucket of water at him.
“Stay back.” Noah snatched the pail and threw the contents over the bed. “There’s glass on the floor.”
“Glass?” She coughed, then covered her mouth with her hand.
Noah coughed, too. “Don’t breathe in the fumes.”
He shooed her out onto the landing just as Bower returned with a bucket, water sloshing over the rim and down the man’s leg. Glass crunched under the weight of his booted steps as he raced into the room.
“My guess is someone stuffed the neck of a spirit bottle with material and set it alight,” he said. “The villain must have thrown it through the window, though that would have been one hell of a feat during the day let alone in the dark.”
Fear rose like bile in his chest.
Had he not stayed the night, the house might have been an inferno.
Eva clutched the edges of her wrapper, the horror of what might have been evident in every pained frown line. “Someone did this … did this deliberately?”
“Without a doubt. Bower’s swift reaction meant he must have witnessed the crime.” In his wisdom, Bower had chosen to tackle the fire, not the blackguard.
The man in question joined them on the landing, his chest heaving from exertion. “The fire … the fire’s out, sir.” Bower’s gaze drifted to Noah’s bare chest. “L-lucky you got to it when you did.”
God’s teeth!
Come first light, Lucius Daventry would have Noah off the case. He’d be filling ink pots and sharpening nibs until next Michaelmas.
“Did you see who did this?” Noah said, ready to throttle the coward who would threaten the life of an innocent woman.
Henry and Bardsley came rushing up the dimly lit stairs, carrying pots full of water. Both servants sidled past Noah without daring to glance at his chest.
“Douse the bed,” Noah instructed before turning back to Bower. “Well?”
The man pushed his black hair from his brow. “The blighter had a good aim, I can tell you that.” Bower’s voice was as deep as the scar cutting through his left eyebrow. “Mr Daventry sent Jonah to keep me company. Being the fastest on his feet, he gave chase.”
Relief rushed through Noah’s veins. Jonah would catch the felon, of that there was no doubt.
Eva held her wrapper tight across her chest. “Who would do such a thing? Those poor women in the hospital must be scared out of their wits.”
Those poor women?
That was one of the things he admired about her. She thought of others first despite being terrified, too.
“I imagine it’s a warning from one of your brother’s creditors.” Noah might have rubbed her arm in comforting strokes had Bower not been standing there staring. “Equally, Lord Benham knows he cannot beat me in a fight and might have sought the coward’s way to exact his revenge.”
“Lord Benham has many faults,” Eva said, “but this is the work of a coward, not a gentleman.”
Noah had to agree. There was something desperate about the action. Upon reflection, neither Manning nor the Turners would raze a house to the ground. Not when it meant lessening the chance of them recouping their funds. They would want Eva alive to use as a bargaining tool.
Her eyes suddenly widened. “You don’t think this has anything to do with Mr Hemming? He can be quite childish when he doesn’t get his way.”
A man in love attacked his rival, not the object of his affection. That said, feelings of jealousy and betrayal were the devil’s poison.
“It wasn’t your publisher who caused the fire, ma’am,” Bower said, drawing his thick arms to his chest so the servants could squeeze past and return to the kitchen with their pans. “He came here earlier, not long after you left for the ball. He hid in the entrance to the alley. Waited there for a time.”
Noah cursed between clenched teeth. “How do you know it was her publisher?”
“Jonah identified him. He kept watch in Tavistock Street this afternoon.”
“How long did Mr Hemming remain in the alley?” Eva’s strained tone conveyed her anxiety.
“Half an hour, ma’am. He walked to the door a few times, but couldn’t raise the courage to knock.”
Eva lifted her chin. “Well, I suppose that’s some consolation. Hopefully, he won’t bother me a—”
A loud bang on the front door made her jump.
Her nerves must be strung as tight as a bow.
“That might be Jonah, sir.”
Eva glanced over the bannister. “Who is it, Bardsley?”
It wasn’t Jonah, but a matron from the hospital come to offer assistance. Eva hurried downstairs to reassure the woman who explained she’d sent a porter to alert a constable.
“Have you noticed any other suspicious activity to
night?” Noah asked Bower while Eva was out of earshot. “Something besides the fact I’m standing here in nothing but my breeches.”
A flicker of a smile touched Bower’s lips. “A penny boy brought a note. I have it here in my pocket, sir.” He tapped his chest. “Mr Daventry told me to intercept anyone who came knocking.”
“Is the note addressed to Miss Dunn?”
“Yes, sir. I’ll give it to the lady when she returns.”
Noah nodded despite itching to know the contents and the identity of the sender.
“The fiend who threw the bottle, was he on horseback or foot?” Noah said.
“Foot, sir. I thought he was heading to the hospital, but then he crossed the road and disappeared into the alley. Jonah got ready to follow him, but the blackguard suddenly leapt from the shadows and hurled the bottle at the window.”
“Then he’s done this before.” Noah scratched his head. The crime bore the mark of a heartless devil. Someone who didn’t care if an innocent woman and her servants perished in a blaze. “Few men would hit the target the first time.”
“There are capable thugs for hire if one’s brave enough to enter the belly of St Giles, sir.”
The Turners employed just such men to carry out their evil threats. Yet every instinct said the scoundrels were not to blame.
“That’s all for now,” he said. “Give Miss Dunn the note and then find Jonah. I want to question the reprobate before a constable arrives.”
“Yes, sir.”
Bower hastened downstairs. Noah went to inspect Howard Dunn’s bedchamber, mindful not to tread on the shards of glass. He tore the sodden sheets and blankets off the bed, made sure the mattress and frame were not kindling and about to burst into flames. And then set about performing another important task.
“Noah!” Eva’s panicked voice echoed along the landing. She came charging into her brother’s bedchamber wearing her spectacles. “Noah, I have something to show—” She stopped abruptly when she found him sitting on the floor amid wet blankets and Howard Dunn’s ruined boots. “What on earth are you doing?”
He raised his hand and dangled a pretty topaz necklace. “I believe this is yours.”
She gasped, her eyes more dazzling than any precious gem. “My mother’s necklace! Heavens. I never thought to see it again.” She dropped to her knees beside him, snatching it from his grasp before kissing him quickly on the mouth.
He couldn’t take his eyes off her as she stared at the delicate gold scrollwork. Happiness radiated, oozed from every fibre of her being. Knots formed in his chest as he held out his hand and offered her the ruby brooch.
The gesture earned him another kiss.
God, he wished he’d found a host of sentimental treasures.
She removed her spectacles and slipped them into the pocket of her wrapper before scanning the damaged boots. “The floor looks like a cobbler’s workbench. Howard will be furious.”
“Why? When I’ve finished with him, he’ll not walk again.”
Her exuberant smile returned. “What made you search for the jewels amid all the commotion?”
Ah, now to the difficult part.
“It’s not safe here,” he said, his tone conveying the full gravity of the situation. “I need you to pack a valise. I need you to get dressed and leave with me. Now. Tonight.”
“Leave?” Confusion marred her brow. “I’ll not have the fiend drive me from my home. And where would I go? I had barely enough money to buy boots without withdrawing my invest—”
“You don’t need money. I need to keep you close until the threat passes.”
“Close?” The uncertainty in her eyes faded.
“Somewhere I know you’ll be safe.”
“Where?”
“Wigmore Street.”
“Wigmore Street?” Her breathing quickened. “But people will talk.”
“You don’t give a hoot what people think.”
“No, not about me. But I care what they say about you.”
He laughed. “It cannot be worse than what they say already.” He didn’t want her to think it was an excuse to take liberties. “You would have your own chamber. I could retire to my room in Hart Street if necessary.”
She remained silent.
Panic rose in his chest. “It would be a temporary arrangement.”
“I—I’m not sure I would cope.”
“Being in unfamiliar territory? Or are you worried I might become as obsessed with you as Hemming is?” There. The truth was better out than left to fester within.
Eva shook her head and drew her mouth into a serious line. “I’m not sure you would understand.” She gazed at the pretty necklace clutched in her hand.
“Help me understand.”
A brief silence ensued.
“Do you know what it’s like to feel powerless? To have one’s world pulled from under one’s feet, to have—” She stopped abruptly. “Forgive me. Of course you do.”
He wished he didn’t know. “You feel empty yet heavy at the same time. You blame yourself for being weak. Strive to ensure you never feel that way again.”
“Yes,” she whispered. “So many people take freedom for granted.”
“But one must question if we’re ever truly free. There is always someone to please. Someone to hold you to account.”
A sad sigh breezed from her lips. “Although stressful, this last week has been wonderful, too. I don’t want Howard to live here. I’m tired of pandering to his whims. I want to wake in the morning knowing the house is quiet, knowing the day will be pleasantly uneventful.”
“Eva, I’m just asking you to stay with me for a few days.”
“I know.” She shook her head again and laughed.
“You can have the run of the house. I’ll stay out of your way.”
“And yet I want to spend every waking minute with you.” She exhaled deeply. “Oh, I’m a muddled mess of contradictions.”
“A beautiful mess.”
As their gazes locked, he saw his own confusion staring back. He understood her anxiety. Distrust was a hard thing to conquer. More so, when one had been abandoned by the one person meant to provide support.
Then it occurred to him that he could give her a gift. Another gem to raise a smile. He would need to keep his wits. There would be no room for errors.
“What if you stayed in Wigmore Street so we might work together on the case? You would be there in a professional capacity, not because you need protection.”
Her eyes widened as she absorbed his words. “Work with you?”
“Indeed.”
“Won’t Mr Daventry object?”
Damn right, he would. “I shall smooth things with Lucius Daventry.” The row would be unpleasant.
“You’d take me with you to The Compass Inn?”
Inwardly, he groaned. “If we both deem it necessary, yes.”
Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that.
“And to Mr Flannery’s establishment?”
“Yes,” he said, fearing he may live to regret his decision. “It may provide creative inspiration.”
A rush of excitement had her jigging about on her knees. “Then I agree. I shall stay in Wigmore Street until my problems are resolved.” Her gaze drifted to his bare chest, and he heard his own hunger reflected in her soft sigh.
“You have something to show me?” he said, assuming she wished to reveal the contents of the penny boy’s note she clutched in her hand.
“Oh, yes!” She thrust the letter at him. “It’s another threat.”
Noah took the paper and scanned the missive.
This time the blackmailer included a brief sample of the article he intended to publish in the broadsheets. The wording was meant to incite public outrage. A woman living so close to the Lying-In Hospital—a place where the vulnerable were open to scandal and corruption—was obsessed with penning tales of murder. Was that not grounds to have her committed to an asylum?
Noah glanced at Eva. “The bla
ckmailer has grown desperate.”
“Yes, but you know there are men in society who will cause uproar. Seek to have me committed.”
“And yet you seem unafraid.”
“There’s little point worrying about something that is unlikely to occur.” She touched his arm. “Tell me we will find the devil before he rouses a storm.”
“We will find him and hold him accountable for his actions. You have my word.”
“It shouldn’t be too difficult now he’s told us where he will be.” She motioned to the letter. “Although clearly he has no clue how resourceful you are.”
Intrigued, Noah continued reading.
The villain asked for a thousand pounds to be packed into a valise and taken to Temple Gardens. They were to arrive at the stroke of midnight, two days hence, and leave the valise at Fountain Court, near the ancient oak tree in Middle Temple.
“He’s chosen the court because there are at least five points of entry.”
Eva smiled. “Because he believes it will be impossible for you to cover every exit. So we know the blackmailer is not Lord Benham.”
Logic said she was right, but he wanted to hear her opinion. “And why is that?”
“Because the viscount knows you have at least four capable men at your disposal if one includes Mr Daventry. My brother knows nothing of your background. He knows the area well and often assisted Mr Becker in his frequent trips to the library.”
She was right.
Howard Dunn was the most likely suspect.
“What about Hemming?”
She shivered at the mere mention of the man’s name. “He would never publish such a damning article, not when people would hold him equally accountable.”
“Unless jealousy drives him to cause a rift between us. Maybe he presumes a scandal would bring an end to our betrothal.”
They might have examined Mr Hemming’s motive further had it not been for a cacophony of shouts and curses erupting in the hall.
Eva shot to her feet and hurried to the landing. “Come quickly. Bower has returned with Jonah.” She darted into her bedchamber, returned seconds later without her mother’s jewels.
Noah yanked open the door to Howard Dunn’s armoire. He took a neatly folded shirt from the shelf—though it looked a little too small—and dragged it over his head before racing downstairs.
