One would be by, surely?
Chapter Two
The hired coach dipped and swayed on the cobblestone. Lillian held tight to her silk reticule. She wouldn’t be in this mess if Robert had any self-control. Drunken parties, gambling, and he’d left her—again.
But this time, he’d really done it.
If he’d just left her, she could have stayed with Sarah as she’d done on previous occasions when he’d abandoned her. Anger began to replace worry.
She adjusted her gloves so they no longer twisted about her hands from her distress. Half an hour longer, and she’d be at the family mansion in London. She could not wait until she had the means to be away from them, particularly her cruel and inconsiderate brother.
Neither parent would likely ask her about her feelings on the matter of Robert’s abandonment or even inquire if she was all right. She sighed. Father’s reaction bothered her the most. Mother would be wringing her hands, worried about her reputation, and Father would yell about taking the hackney, worried about how things looked if the family couldn’t provide a carriage.
He could simply buy her a coach of her own or quit yelling.
No way would she stand to be caught and then ostracized because of her brother’s behavior. It wasn’t fair. She stared at the grungy walls, tears smarting. The caustic smell burned her nostrils, the last occupant having left their stomach contents behind.
She tried not to feel sorry for herself, but she’d come too close to losing her reputation and any chance of living on her own or finding a decent husband.
Not like she really wanted one, she reminded herself.
But if she ever did, she would like to have her options be better than a ruined reputation would afford—like the duke perhaps. A blush stained her cheeks as she thought of the intensity of his gaze, as if he could see straight into her soul. His stare had started something in her which scared her.
Then again, maybe she could hide away with her best friend Hermione, and they could keep each other company. She would have enough money once she turned twenty-one. The idea cheered her up immensely. Perhaps she would do it anyway, even if her reputation wasn’t squandered by this night’s mayhem. It was unlikely The Dark Duke would be interested in her, anyway, not with so many other eligible women around who did not have a sabotaging brother.
Still, despite her plans for the future, riding in the hired carriage alone, late at night, sent trepidation through her. She flipped her silk fan, hitting her palm, and counted to a hundred and then again in French, counting in rhythm with the horse’s clopping on the cobblestones, trying to curb the need to retch.
Then the sound of the hooves on cobblestone slackened, and her counting slowed with it until she realized what it meant. They could not possibly be near her home already. Could they? After setting her fan aside, she raised a gloved hand to the grimy curtain over the side window. A waft of cold air splashed her face, and the dank smell of the river front, rotten fish and kerosene, assailed her nose. They were near the docks, and not the friendlier side, but the parts her father had forbidden her to visit when she had accompanied him in the past.
Definitely not the way home.
Instincts long honed from abuse told her she needed out of the situation. But how? She tamped down the terror at being alone in unknown territory. Which would be worse? Staying and seeing what the cabby had in store for her, or jumping, risking injury and unknown assailants? Long ago, she’d decided not to be put in position of being a victim if she could help it, and she decided that getting away would afford her the best chance at survival. Maybe she could hide out until daylight.
She held her reticule close and felt along the wall for the latch to open the door. Quietly as she could manage, she opened it, wincing at the squeak. The drop to the ground would prove daunting in her soft slippers made for dancing, but it was better than whatever the driver had in store for her.
Holding onto the side, she managed to catch her footing down one step, but the rocking of the carriage kept her from the others. Heart racing, she held her breath and jumped. A ripping sound reached her, no doubt her dress being torn. She landed with a breathy oomph. Her ankles complained, and she fell forward to her hands and knees, biting her lip to keep from crying out when the stones bit into her palms through her thin gloves. Her reticule skittered across the stones. She held her breath to see if the driver noticed. When the carriage kept moving, she released a short burst of air and stood.
Furtively, she snagged her reticule and clasped it close to her, hiding it beneath her midnight blue wrap as she ran. The dark warehouses cast long fingers of inky blackness in the low light of the waning moon, and the lamplight only accentuated the shadows. Fear threatened to abscond with her courage, but she tamped it down.
She’d been in tight situations before.
She noticed an alley not far and moved in that direction. Once there, she took careful breaths, hiding like she had as a child from her ruthless uncle. Debris littered the area, and the smell of feces and rotten fish saturated her nose with the God-awful stink, but she remained concealed there. When the carriage came to a stop, she held her breath, listening.
“You have her?” an unknown male asked the driver.
“You have the coin,” the driver countered. A pause, and then a gleeful, “She’s in the carriage. Stupid girl doesn’t know her own brother set her up.”
“If it wasn’t for the greed of the ton, we’d all be out of business,” the other man said, then cackled.
The sound of the laugh sent shivers of fear up her spine, and the cold somehow took on a sharper tang, going bone deep. Her brother? The betrayal hit her hard, mixing with the cold and apprehension. However, she couldn’t claim to be surprised. He’d always been jealous of her for as long as she could remember. Still, the tears silently fell while she waited for them to discover her missing. Would they search for her? She was afraid to go any deeper into the alley lest she get lost, but didn’t fancy staying put, either.
A loud cry rent the air. “She’s gone. You trying to cheat me?” The strange male’s voice tripled her terror and brought forth visions of evil.
She desperately wanted to peek around the corner, but dared not in case they saw her. She heard a thud, as if the driver had descended his perch.
“She can’t ha’ done a bunk. I haven’t stopped since I picked her up per her brother’s instructions when he left.”
She held her wrap closer to ward off the chill, but it wouldn’t leave her. No wonder she’d been lucky to find a hackney so quickly.
“She has to be here somewhere, then,” the stranger said. “Spread out and search for her.”
She hunched back deeper into the shadows, trying to get her cloak to cover every scrap of skin and fabric. A hand touched her shoulder, and she took in a deep breath to scream, but another one clamped over her mouth.
“Shhh. I’m not going to hurt you.” His voice could barely be considered a whisper as he spoke directly into her ear.
She nodded her head to show she understood. Besides, he’d given her a moment to think. The scream had been instinctive, but if she had, she would have been found out by the two she ran from. She tried not to panic. Had she jumped from her carriage and escaped a kidnapping, only to trade it for something worse?
Then again, if this new person had designs to hurt her, he could well have done so whilst she had been focused on the driver and his mate. The hand left her mouth as the stranger turned their bodies so that his body came between her and the alley entrance. He stood close, his face still mostly shadow, and spoke low. “Forgive me. If they come, we will pretend to be a courtesan and her pimp?”
Her eyes widened. “What?” Indignant, her voice came out a little louder than she’d planned. He covered her mouth again and stared over his shoulder for a moment. When no loud cries of discovery went up, she went limp with relief.
“I’m sorry, as I said. But we are at the docks. There is no other plausible reason for me to be
holding a lady. Do you understand?” His urgent tones transferred to her.
She didn’t like the idea, but could not think of a better reason which wouldn’t give her away, so she again nodded, unable to speak. Plus, her instincts trusted him for some reason, and she’d learned long ago to listen to them when it came to men. It had stood her well amongst the ton, at least.
He pulled her in as if to hug her, pressing her face against his chest. The scent of sandalwood, coal, and kerosene wafted off him while he held her. His heart beat steady against her ear. Why was he so comfortable in this district? His clothes had the feel and texture of quality. His speech held the cultured tones of someone she could have met at a soiree. Yet, here he was, traipsing the alleys of the docks at midnight. Something didn’t add up. How could he be so calm?
Her own pulse raced and pumped in her ears, making it sound as if water rushed by. She fought the urge to run, knowing she wouldn’t stand a chance. What if he was a thief? Her hand went to her neck. What if he was a cutthroat?
Stop it this instance. You are not a ninny or simpering miss, despite how Father treats you.
He could be the knight in shining armor he appeared. Perhaps he was brave and courageous and a true gentlemen down there for business like a problem with a shipping venture. A man of action. After all, her instincts said he was safe. She took in a quiet breath, slow and steady. She’d nearly calmed herself when footsteps came close.
“She has to be ‘ere somewhere,” the driver said.
A burst of fury ripped through her chest. How dare he try to hurt her. Do they not know who her family was? She was the Lady Lillian, daughter of the Earl of Lamberth. Then anguish dumped through her. They likely did. With her brother’s duplicity staring her in the face, she couldn’t even pretend to believe he hadn’t told them her identity.
“Find her, or lose your pay,” the stranger who’d tried to take her said quietly.
She shivered as fear overlaid anger. He scared her in the deepest part of her, as instinctive as her feeling of safety for the man who now held her against him.
“Be ready,” her would be rescuer whispered in her ear.
He grunted and undulated against her. “Put your arms around me,” he said under his breath. “Then, you need to kiss me.”
Kiss him? Was he daft? She had no intentions of kissing a stranger, even in pretense. She started to stand up tall, her hand flying back to slap him, when she heard the slimy sounding one. “She is more trouble than the brother led us to believe. Maybe I will kill her—after I have my money out of her.”
Dread crawled its way down her spine. A spiked ball of pain twisted in her stomach. She changed her mind about slapping her erstwhile savior, and instead, her hand wound behind his neck. She proceeded to do as ordered, though the kiss was rather clumsy. Still, when the men rounded the corner, their ribaldry laugh echoed between the stone buildings, and her body trembled.
He turned to the kidnappers, hiding her behind him. “You two, out! I have paid for her for the night.” He sounded cranky and bothered, and not a tremor or ounce of nerves in his voice. She was fast developing a case of hero-worship for this man in black despite his unorthodox manner in saving her.
“Did you see a slip of beauty pass through here?” the cabby asked.
“Only the one in my arms. Didn’t have eyes for anyone else, if you ken my meaning.”
He’d slipped a bit of cockney or Scottish or something similar into his voice. She was too dazed to place it at the moment. To think, she was pretending to be his doxy to be saved from kidnapping. Her brother would pay. Somehow, she’d make him pay.
No more.
No more chances or excuses. He’d not get another farthing from her, either.
The two other men laughed lewdly, and she crowded up against her rescuer’s back, dread tripping through her. He put one arm behind him, giving her a bit more protection from them seeing her face.
“If you gentlemen don’t mind, I am losing time I’ve paid for.”
“Of course,” the one who made her skin crawl said.
“Gentlemen,” the driver scoffed and laughed. “Hear tha’? He called us proper gentlemen now.”
The two men left, still searching for her. When they’d cleared out of ear shot, the man took her hand.
“Come this way. I have my own carriage. I will take you home.”
She yanked her hand out of his. “How do I know you’re not with them?” Her voice cracked, and she hated that the tears she held back could be heard, but her own brother had sold her to nefarious men.
“You don’t. However, I just saved your life. Why would I do that if I was with those other two?”
“It could be a trick. I have read about these sorts of things.” And there would be hell to pay if Father found out she’d read the forbidden tomes against his wishes. “Whilst they hunt me down, you pretend to be my savior, then haul me off to something worse.”
“I am sorry I do not have time to assuage your fears. Come with me if you want to be safe.”
He held out his hand to her.
She stared at it. Safe. There was that word again. Her instincts said to trust him, but her mind still held the terror of being kidnapped and almost caught. Honestly, what choice did she have? If she stayed here, surely those men would be back. Or someone worse could find her. Tentatively, she put her hand in his.
She let him pull her along the alley, away from the carriage which brought her there. They went around a few buildings and closer to the water. A nearly windowless carriage stood waiting. “Henry, move posthaste. There are thieves trying to take things which don’t belong to them.”
“I see, sir. Where to?”
The man helping her pushed her up into the carriage. “Where to, miss…?”
“Lancaster. Lady Lillian Delia Lancaster, daughter of the Earl of Lamberth.” Hysteria threatened to overcome her, and she almost giggled at the prim and proper way she introduced herself to a man she’d already kissed.
He narrowed his eyes on her. “To Coventry Gardens. We will collect better directions once there.”
She scooted over along the plush cushions, sighing with relief. There were no foul odors within this carriage. She ran her hands along the inside and set her reticule she’d managed to hold onto on the seat next to her. Dark velvet encased the walls. Whomever he was, he came from money as she’d suspected. Despite her cloak, the cold still chilled her deep.
The fright of the night hit her, and her body began to shake, and her teeth to chatter. He settled next to her, and she wished she could see his face clearer. The hat pulled low shadowed his face even more in the dim light coming in through the small, curtained window in the door, yet she sensed a sadness from him. However, she needed comforting, so, despite her upbringing, she leaned into him when he held his hand to her. He tucked her under his arm, the other reaching around and holding her to him.
“Shh. There now. What is there to be scared of now? You’re fine. I’m here,” he continued as sobs started.
She couldn’t help it. She cried for the years her brother tormented her. She cried for the near miss with the ruffian who scared her almost as much as her brother. She cried because she had to go back home and see him, knowing what he’d done. She cried because, despite the servants and her friends, she was so alone at home. So very alone.
“But you won’t be there when I’m home,” she said through tear clogged throat. She coughed, then swallowed, and reached into her reticule to get her lady’s handkerchief. She blew hard into hit, but her cries settled down into soft hiccups.
Then she noticed his hand stroking up and down her back in comfort, thought of the kiss they shared, and stared at his lips now so close to hers, thought of how he’d just saved her from certain death.
Safe.
He made her feel safe, something she’d wanted all her life. Suddenly, nothing mattered more than that. She lifted her face to his, laid a gloved hand on his cheek, and pressed her mouth against his.
He pulled her tighter against him. The kiss went on longer than the first one, his hand holding her head gently. He tilted his head and deepened the kiss, tracing her lips with his tongue. She gasped, and he thrust it into her mouth, and something strange started tingling deep in her stomach, chasing away the terror still lodged there.
Then her breasts, heretofore nuisances to be fit into a corset, ached with an intensity which almost caused pain. As if he’d read her mind, the hand behind her back came around the front to dip under her bodice and cupped one aching nub. She felt a restlessness inside as well as a warmth which chased away the last of her fear.
She wrapped both arms around his neck and pressed herself more fully against him, wanting to forget the awfulness of what just happened. His kiss became fierce, then he groaned and pulled away, his hand leaving her breast and pulling the bodice of her evening gown back up. Disappointment rocked her. He kissed her forehead, then her cheek.
He rearranged her cloak so that it wrapped her properly and put her head on his shoulder. “I can’t take advantage of you, Lady Lillian, as tempting as you are. That would make me no better than the men I just saved you from.”
Embarrassment started to settle in as she thought of her wanton behavior. What she must look like to him. A nervous giggle slipped out before she could stop it. “I swear, I do not make a habit of accosting men after being rescued from mayhem and misery.” No matter how lonely she was at home. Not that she’d been rescued often, either.
She tried to pull away and sit up, but he held her firmly. God help her, how would she be able to look Father or Mother in the eyes after how she’d acted tonight? And what about Robert’s actions? It would kill her father if he knew the extent Robert had gone to in order to get rid of her. She shook again. If it weren’t for her rescuer…
“You had quite the fright. I am impressed with the courage it took to jump from a moving carriage and run that way. Most of the woman of my acquaintance, save my mother and sisters, would have simply waited for their carriage to stop and walked right into it. What made you jump?”
Darkest Valentine Page 2
