TOUCH ME

by Lucy Monroe

  "I would not wish to be accused of being stingy." She kissed him this time, loving the feeling of freedom in doing so.

  This was what she had missed after their time together in his room. The warmth. The intimacy. She felt safe in his arms—as if thieves, their cohorts, even the specter of marriage, could not harm her.

  He teased at her lips with his tongue and she opened her mouth. The kiss grew passionate and soon they were both breathing rapidly.

  He pulled away and pressed his forehead against hers. "We have to stop, Thea, or Melly will walk in on a much more compromising scene than she did earlier."

  She knew he was right, but that did not make it any easier to acquiesce. "Very well," she said, aware that it came out a bit sulky.

  He lifted her from his lap and set her on the bed before taking a seat on the chair once again. "Finish telling me about your thief."

  "There is nothing more to tell."

  "What do you plan to do when we reach London?"

  She should question his assumption about accompanying her to London from Liverpool, but knew it would be no use. She had made her decision when she told him about the thief. She had his help now, for good or ill. However, it would be foolish to pretend she didn't want it, when she so desperately did.

  "First I must make myself known to Lady Upworth."

  "Your friend that has been writing you?"

  "Yes."

  "She's a crony of my aunt's. What are you going to do after that?"

  For some reason knowing that Drake had a connection to Lady Upworth made Thea feel better. "I'm going to begin my investigation at the shipping office."

  He frowned. "How?"

  She chewed on her lower lip. "I had thought to simply make myself known, express my concerns, and enlist the help of Uncle Ashby's nephew. Now, I'm not so certain."

  "Bloody hell. You could be walking into a nest of vipers."

  Rather than annoying her, his anger made her feel safe. It felt good to lean on someone. She had not done so since her mother's death. "You are right, but I do not know a better way to approach it."

  "I have an idea."

  Her heart leapt with hope. "Yes?"

  "I will pretend an interest in a partnership with Merewether Shipping. You will need to show me the books, and we will conduct the investigation together."

  * * *

  Chapter 10

  « ^ »

  Thea is growing so quickly, I barely recognize her anymore. She runs everywhere and her diction is marvelous for a child still in leading strings. Are all mothers so very proud of their young? Perhaps Langley has done for me one small service. In stealing my son, he has given me appreciation for my daughter. She is my own precious joy and I will be worthy of her.

  March 24, 1800

  Journal of Anna Selwyn, Countess of Langley

  "What about the letter? Someone in the London office already knows I've discovered discrepancies in the ledgers."

  He had seen the look of hope leap into her eyes. She wanted to rely on him.

  He would show her that she could trust him. "We will allay their concerns by pretending to think the other discrepancies were anomalies."

  "Won't the thief feel threatened that we are going through the books now, and do something to try and stop us? He has already proved himself quite ruthless."

  "I hope so."

  Understanding dawned in her expression. "We are laying a trap and hoping the thief will try again." Her eyes dimmed. "Isn't that rather dangerous for you?"

  "No more so than for you."

  "But it is my problem."

  "Now it is mine. You belong to me, Thea, even if you are too stubborn to admit it. That makes your problems mine." He waited for her to deny his words with her customary independent stubbornness, but her worried look only intensified.

  "I don't want you to feel responsible for me."

  "You have no choice." Did she think he could walk away from her now that he knew she was in danger?

  "What if you are hurt?" she asked as if that was all that concerned her.

  "I know how to take care of myself." He wanted to touch her and wipe the anxious expression from her face, but knew that he couldn't risk the close contact. Once he started touching her again, he wouldn't stop until he was buried inside her. "There is one matter we will have to attend to, however."

  "Yes?"

  "Where you will live."

  "I'm staying with Lady Upworth. She's invited me numerous times. She will not mind me arriving unexpectedly." Thea sighed. "I think."

  "Perhaps not, but she would definitely mind me moving in. She's set in her ways, just like my aunt."

  "What do you mean, you moving in?"

  "I'm staying by your side until the thief has been dealt with. He has proven himself too willing to harm you."

  "I will be perfectly safe with Lady Upworth." And she sounded like she truly believed it.

  "No."

  She bristled, drawing herself erect, her heart-shaped face set in irritated lines. "I will accept your help, but you can forget dictating to me in this fashion."

  "You like my aunt," he reminded her.

  She eyed him warily. "Yes."

  "She won't mind me staying as well," he explained.

  She chewed on her bottom lip. "Won't the rest of the ton find it odd that I'm staying with your aunt?"

  He shrugged. "It doesn't matter."

  "Yes, it does. I'm not going to have you blaming me for damaging your reputation."

  The accusation was so ludicrous, he laughed.

  She glared at him. "Do not laugh at me, sir. I have every reason to be concerned. You believed that after making love, you were honor bound to propose and got angry when I said no. I won't have you saying that I misled you in this matter as well."

  She was serious.

  "I did not propose because of my honor."

  "I heard your aunt, Drake. She believes your honor is at stake if you don't marry me just because you visited my room. I had not thought ahead when I seduced you. I did not realize that you would feel compelled to marry me afterward. I should have, but I was overcome with emotion." She looked away from him. "I'm not usually like that—emotional, I mean."

  He didn't believe it for a minute. Everything she did was motivated by emotion and a fierce sense of loyalty that matched his own. Unable to withstand it any longer, he stood and went to her.

  Cupping her shoulders, he forced her to meet his gaze. "I did not propose out of a sense of honor. I had already decided to marry you before we ever made love."

  She stared at him, disbelief etched in every feature, her blue eyes filled with it.

  He squeezed her shoulders. "I mean it, Thea."

  "Why?"

  The stark word hung between them and he was unsure how to answer. The why of it was something he had not considered. It had simply become inevitable and he had accepted it as such.

  "You will make me an admirable wife."

  Her soft pink lips twisted with derision. "Admirable? I cannot imagine how." Then her eyes widened and she looked at him with dawning wonder. "Are you saying that you love me?"

  He released her shoulders and stepped back so quickly, he almost lost his balance.

  Love? He had seen so-called love matches turn into screaming matches after the newness wore off. His father had promised undying love to his mother before getting her with child and abandoning her. Cicisbeos and rakes vowed their love for other men's wives. The ton was full of posturing dandies who spouted poetry about love while flitting from one lady to the next, their feelings as temporary as the beauty of the flowers they sent along with their vows of undying affection.

  The only experience he had ever had with the emotion had been with Deirdre. She had said she loved him, but married someone richer and more suitable. He thought he had loved her, but had finally admitted that his pride was more bruised than his heart.

  Did he love Thea?

  He didn't know. He needed her, and in his m
ind that was bad enough.

  When Drake didn't answer, Thea assumed she had made him uneasy with the question. Of course he didn't love her. She was a twenty-three-year-old spinster, too vocal in her opinions and unremarkable in appearance, for all that others said she looked exceedingly like her mother.

  "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

  He opened his mouth to speak, but she forestalled him by raising her hand. "It is better that you don't. Love me, that is."

  "Why?" He looked perplexed, his dark brown eyes narrowed.

  "Because I cannot marry you."

  "Yes, you can. What is more, you will." He looked so certain of himself she wanted to scream.

  "How many times must I tell you? I will not marry. Besides, I would make you a terrible wife. Surely you must realize that."

  "I disagree. You are all I could desire in a wife." She wanted to argue, but he went on, seemingly determined to convince her. "First, there is the passion between us, I have no wish to wed a woman who will shut me from her room once she has given me the required heir and a spare."

  She chewed on her bottom lip. "There is that." She did want him, even now, but those feelings would fade with time.

  They had to.

  "There is also the fact that you care nothing for Society's opinion," he continued.

  "So?"

  "My wife will face a certain amount of ostracism."

  She wrinkled her forehead. "Lady Boyle said your grandfather refused to allow you to be ignored by Society."

  He turned away, his gaze fixed on the view of the sea out her portal window. "It is true that anyone who wishes to claim his acquaintance knows better than to neglect the social niceties toward my mother and myself, but that is all surface. The ton is very good at making its disapproval known without actually cutting someone."

  Her heart constricted at the thought of what he had endured. "That's terrible."

  "But true. Any female seen in my company is censured. It's not exactly tonnish behavior to be courted by a bastard, even if he is the grandson of a duke."

  "Have you courted many women?" She hated the notion that Drake had wanted to marry someone else.

  He turned to face her, his expression unreadable. "One."

  Her stomach did a funny flip-flop. "Was she afraid of Society's disapproval if she married you?"

  He shrugged. "She could not see herself married to a penniless bastard."

  "You are illegitimate, not a bastard, and you aren't poor."

  "I was then. I was only twenty at the time and my prospects were not promising."

  "Did you love her?"

  "I thought I did."

  His anger earlier made sudden sense. "She's the one, isn't she?"

  His dark gaze narrowed warily. "The one what?"

  "The one who believed you were good enough to be her lover, but not her husband." She knew she was right when he broke eye contact and turned away again. She jumped up and went to him. Reaching up to lay her hand on his shoulder, she tugged at him. "What happened?"

  "I may be a bastard, but I'm not a gossip. If you want the story, you'll have to ask my aunt."

  She hastily stepped back, stung by the harsh rebuke in his voice. "I wasn't trying to gossip."

  He turned to face her. "None of it matters now. I want to marry you."

  "Because you want me in your bed and you think it doesn't matter to me what the ton will say if I marry you."

  "Does it?"

  She frowned. "Of course not."

  "Then marry me."

  Longing so strong it nearly knocked her over lanced through her. "I can't."

  "Why not?"

  "I've already told you."

  "You aren't afraid of anything else, why are you such a coward about this?"

  She felt like he'd slapped her. She wasn't a coward. She wasn't. She was just realistic. Marriage entailed too many sacrifices for a woman and not enough benefits. Besides, she had made a promise to her mother. A promise she must keep.

  "You don't understand."

  "Then make me understand." He pulled her into his arms, and she wanted desperately to stay there for the rest of her life.

  Pushing the impossible thought away, she struggled to get free. "Let me go."

  "Explain why you won't marry me."

  "I promised her. She was dying and she only wanted two things from me." Her heartbeat was loud in her own ears. "Don't you understand? I couldn't refuse."

  He went completely still and she stopped her struggles.

  "Your mother made you promise never to marry?"

  "Not exactly." She owed him the entire truth, although it hurt to say it out loud. "I promised her I would never marry a man like my father."

  Suddenly she was free—and she wanted nothing more than his protective arms around her once more.

  But from the look on his face, he'd never hold her again. "You believe I'm like your father?"

  "I don't believe you are cruel, but you are a hard man, certain of your own opinion and intent on having your own way."

  Much like herself, she could admit, but marriage would give him the power to win against her strength of will. The law and society were both heavily weighted in a man's favor.

  "You want to marry some spineless creature to ensure he can never hurt you like your father hurt your mother?"

  The incredulous tone in his voice left her in no doubt how ridiculous he found that possibility.

  "I don't want to marry anyone," she assured him.

  His brows tipped in mockery. "What about this afternoon?"

  "It was wonderful."

  "I know you liked it, but have you considered the consequences?"

  Wasn't she dealing with them right now?

  "What consequences exactly are you talking about?" In his current frame of mind, she wasn't making assumptions about anything.

  "A child. A bastard baby that will suffer all that I have and more if you refuse to give it my name."

  The words slammed into her like a gale force wind. "A baby?" She stumbled backward until she sat on the chair. "I hadn't thought."

  "Obviously." His expression chilled her to the very marrow of her bones.

  She laid her hand against her stomach, wondering if new life had been created there in their coupling on the narrow bunk in Drake's stateroom. "Surely just the one time cannot create life."

  His laugh was harsh and entirely without humor. "My mother gave herself to my father only once."

  Her gaze flew to his.

  Anger welled up inside her at the look of condemnation she saw on his face. "Why didn't you think of it? If we did make a baby, which I doubt, it required your full cooperation."

  "Yes, it did." He walked to the door and placed his hand on the latch. "You were right when you said I am a hard man, Thea. No child of mine will ever be labeled bastard. If you are pregnant, you will marry me."

  He made the promise sound like a threat as he slammed out the door. She shivered. What had she done?

  "What the bloody hell do you mean, a dinghy is missing?"

  Drake's roar of fury did nothing to release the anger that had simmered below the surface since his argument with Thea two days ago. Damnation. The little minx had refused to marry him, accusing him of being like her father. Then Fox had gone to ground and an entire crew of seamen had been unable to find him. Drake hadn't slept since Fox's disappearance, and his temper was on a very short leash.

  He grabbed the young sailor by the front of his striped cotton shirt and lifted until the man's feet no longer touched the deck. "Didn't the captain give strict instructions to have all the dinghies guarded until Fox was found?"

  He was no longer yelling, but that didn't stop the sailor from wincing as if he were.

  The sailor nodded, his face turning red. "Yes, sir, he did, but this one was under repair," he wheezed, "not seaworthy. Didn't think he could use it."

  "Drake."

  Damnation. Thea. He didn't want to deal with telling her
that he had lost Fox and their only link to the spy in the island's shipping office. Bloody hell. His promise to her that he would find Fox rose up to mock him. Some job he was doing of protecting her. He couldn't even find the blackguard who had attacked her on his own bloody ship. He turned toward her voice, still holding the sailor.

  She came toward him with the same uninhibited stride that had caught his attention on their first meeting.

  Her eyes were wide in question. "What are you doing?" She pointed to the sailor. "His face is turning purple. Put him down before he passes out."

  He obeyed the bossy bit of goods with a flick of his wrist. The sailor fell against the deck, making a large thud on impact.

  Drake looked past Thea and saw no sign of Melly or anyone else, and the fury he had been trying to rein in spiraled out of control.

  Ignoring the sailor, who was crawling away with crablike movements, he glared at Thea. "Where's your maid?"

  Didn't she know better than to leave Thea alone with her attacker still loose? Didn't anyone but him realize the risks Thea faced?

  She made a dismissive gesture with her hand. "I needed some time to think. I decided to take a walk. Melly was with me until I saw you. I sent her to the passenger parlor."

  She looked as if she needed rest, not time to think.

  "Fox is gone."

  Her luminescent blue eyes filled with confusion. "How? We're on a ship. Won't he drown if he jumped overboard?"

  "A dinghy under repair has disappeared."

  "Is that why you were shaking that poor sailor?"

  "He was in charge of guarding the dinghies. He's lucky I didn't throw him overboard."

  "But you said it was under repair. Surely Fox would not risk it on the open sea."

  "We're closer to land than you think. Besides, he's better off risking the sea than what would happen to him if he gets caught."

  Her hands clenched at her sides. "When?"

  "Probably last night." Damn, he hated that look of disappointment on her face. "He used darkness to cover his escape. There was no moon."

  She nodded. "I know."

  So she had been unable to sleep, too.

  "That's it then. I'll just have to proceed with my investigation as planned and hope that nothing happens to Uncle Ashby in the meantime." She tried to sound confident, but he saw the fear in her eyes.