A Riding Crop for Two (8 page)

Mary lowered her head,
as if she were looking for guidance in the foam of the glass of bitter. She
glanced back up.

“I thank you and Pan for
the offer, but that kind of place is not for me, love. I worked at a pretty
posh place in the
West End
some time back. No,
I’ll go on as I have been. I have a man I can stay with when I need a roof.
Besides, I can’t abandon my girls. They need me.” Mary smiled wanly and drank
down a few more swallows of the bitter.

Olivia glanced at the
women laughing raucously at the nearby table. What a rough-looking lot.
Poor complexions, missing teeth, matted hair, and torn and worn
clothing.
Compared to them, Mary Kelly was a princess. Olivia sighed as
the man returned with the stew and bread.
 
She tossed some of the shillings on his tray, and he left. She couldn’t
force Mary to return with her.
More disappointment.
Perhaps her motives were selfish to a degree and why she did want to offer Mary
a better opportunity. She hoped the woman would return with her so she would
have a female friend at The Crop. She never befriended anyone else there,
except for James.
 
Life was hard for a
woman alone. It easily could have been her sitting at that table with the other
women. If James hadn’t found her, she knew she would have been selling herself
in alleys smelling of piss for a few coins.

Mary patted her hand
with firm reassurance. “There now, love. Get that worried look off your face.
I’ll be fine.”

Olivia picked up her
spoon and took a bite of the thick stew. She really did hope so for Mary’s
sake. But a feeling of dread pulled at her insides.

****

Olivia returned to The
Riding Crop an hour later. James operated his business as a nocturnal venture.
During the day, the place was cleaned stem to stern; everyone pitched in,
seeing to the changing of linens, sopping up the body fluids, and the scrubbing
of the floors and walls. James gave them their own rooms, fed them, shared in
the profit; it was not too much to ask for everyone to share in keeping the
place clean and running smoothly.

Olivia started to climb
the stairs to do her part, when James called her into his study.

A tea tray sat on the
table. He motioned for her to take a seat, and then poured.

“Mary Kelly was not
interested in the offer, I take it?”

James handed her the cup
and saucer and took a seat opposite. He served her favorite, orange pekoe.
Taking a sip, she glanced at James over the rim. His delicate male beauty sent
many male and female hearts fluttering, but she had never seen him with either
sex. He told her once “My gate swings both ways. In this cold world, it
behooves one to take love where you can find it.” Yet, he prevaricated when she
asked him if he had ever been in love. He played up his effeminate act when
around customers, but with her, he acted as himself, elegant, but decidedly
masculine.
 

“No. She did not want to
leave her girls.”

“Pity, that. She is
quite attractive.
Could have made a pretty penny here.
Well, onward.” James sipped his tea. “Dearest, brace
yourself
.
Lord Craven was here not thirty minutes hence.”

“Whatever for?
I am out of his life as he wished.”

“Do you love him?”

The words stung. How
dare he show up after having his thugs toss her in an alley?
The
damned cheek of the man.
So arrogant.

“Yes. No. How can I?
After what he’s done to me?
We’ve barely known each other a
week, and even at that, he abandoned me for four days!” The cup rattled on the
saucer, so she placed them back on the tray.

“Perhaps he had
reasons,” James ventured.

She folded her arms and
huffed.
“Right.
Why would I love such an unfeeling
man?”

James set his cup on the
table. “Come now, Olivia. You are spouting nonsense. Shall I tell you how I
know? I confess I have watched Lord Craven on more than one occasion on the
third floor.”

Olivia tried not to
register shock on her face. The third floor was strictly for voyeurism. It was
where Gideon had first seen her. She had no idea James indulged. Gideon
performed for public viewing? Add exhibitionist to his list of carnal vices.

“Do not look so
judgmental. I wanted to see what all the fuss was about. I will admit the man
is a fine specimen and very skilled. But what drew my attention was the
emptiness of his alluring dark eyes. I observed a heart-wrenching loneliness.
He went through the motions and derived little pleasure, if any at all.” James
paused. “The man who confronted me at the door was the farthest thing from that
cold, indifferent man.
 
His eyes were
alive and animated.
Full of concern and worry.
And
love.” James smiled. “And anger. It seems he has quite a temper.”

Confusion rolled through
her. “But those men said...”

“When he returns in the
morning, you will see him and have it out. Trust your feelings. Trust him. I
must say he created quite a scene.
Cravenbrook
was
very loud, profane and insistent. He threatened to return tomorrow morning with
a battering ram if needs must. I have to say, it was all rather medieval and
arousing.”

Olivia laughed. James
could always make her laugh in the direst of circumstances.

“I told the man you were
resting and not to be disturbed. I also assured him you would see him tomorrow.
I mentioned nothing of your abduction and beating. Talk to him, Olivia, and
judge for yourself.”

She sobered. What could
she say? Her pride throbbed with the pain of rejection. Yet, if he had her
forcibly removed from his premises, why show up at The Riding Crop and create a
scene?

Grudgingly, she
agreed.
 
If the haughty Lord Craven did
not offer a suitable and acceptable explanation, she would have
him
forcibly removed.

Chapter Eight

Gideon had no sleep. His
emotions whirled about him furiously all night. Never in his life had he lost
control as he did at The Riding Crop yesterday afternoon. The only thing
keeping him from breaking the door down was the crowd gathering on the sidewalk
as he bellowed and swore at a pair of eyes peering at him through the small
window.

He sat back in the
carriage and pulled on his leather gloves. Well, as strong as he claimed to be,
he doubted he could have made a dent in the thick, oak door at any rate. Hence
his threats of bringing a battering ram. The note he received early this
morning claiming Olivia would give him a brief audience was the only reason the
thing was not strapped to the roof of the carriage.

He exhaled, trying to
calm his raging temper. He had no idea what to expect. His plan consisted of
convincing Olivia to pack her belongings and come back with him to the
townhouse—permanently. The task may be daunting, and he had to remain collected
and in control.

He repeated the litany
as he arrived at the brothel. Giving instructions for the coachman to wait, he
pounded on the door.

He was shown into a room
he had never been before. The room was similar to
his own
study. Walls lined with a multitude of bookshelves. He wandered over to glance
at a few of the titles. Books of science, philosophy and fiction of all sorts
crammed the shelves.
Must be this Pan or Sidle’s private
area.

Gideon removed his hat
and his gloves and unbuttoned his greatcoat. How long would she bloody well
make him wait? He tossed his gloves in the hat and threw them both to the
settee.

He could use a damned
drink; however, there were no decanters in the room. Blast it.

The door opened, and
Olivia walked in, head held high. She wore a rather plain gray gown, her hair
pulled back in a severe knot. She appeared pale and drawn. But that was not
all.

His fists clenched.
So much for staying calm and collected.

“Who in the fuck hit
you? Tell me! He will cease to draw breath!” he roared.

Though she tried to hide
the bruising with makeup, it was apparent someone had battered her lovely face.
Her lip looked swollen, a jagged cut visible in the plumpness. She halted, her
eyes blinking rapidly.

“You act surprised? You
ordered this abduction and beating!” she cried.

Gideon pointed to the
man standing at the entrance with his arms folded.
“You!
Get out!”

“He stays.
As protection.”
Liv
sniffed.

The words at last began
to sink in through his fury at seeing she had been harmed.
Abduction and beating?
The rage
rushed out of him in a wave.

“I do not know what you
are talking about. I came home yesterday morning to find you gone. Do you
honestly believe I would have you seen from the premises in such a way? You
think me a fucking animal?” His voice rose on the last sentence. Perhaps he was
an animal for he wanted to rip someone to shreds.
Anyone.
And that son of a bitch hovering at the door just may suit. A growl escaped his
throat.

“Lord
Cravenbook
, are you telling me you had nothing to do with
me being pulled out of your bed, told to pack in haste and dumped into a dirty
alley in
Whitechapel
where I was beaten and nearly
raped?”

Raped? Good Christ, no
wonder she thought him a base beast. After what had happened to her in the
past, she truly thought he would instigate such an action? Her accusation tore
at his heart. He took two steps toward her, and she backed up, fear flickering
ever so briefly on her face.

“
Liv
,
I swear on the grave of my poor mother, I had nothing to do with what happened
to you. I came home yesterday with roses and plans for our future. Why would
you think I would do such a thing?”

Liv
shook her head. Her hand rubbed her forehead. She
turned toward the man. “Gordon, leave us. I’ll ring if I need you.”

The man gave a quick
nod, stepped out into the hall and closed the door behind him.

Liv
staggered to the large wingchair and sat down, shock
showing on her features.

“I ... I don’t
understand. Those men told me Lord
Cravenbrook
wanted
me gone, that he had his fill. That he did not want to see me ever again,” she
whispered.

Gideon dragged the
matching chair across the carpet until it sat opposite hers. He sat down.

“You believed them?”

“Not at first. With each
blow they convinced me otherwise. If a group of women hadn’t entered the alley,
I would have been raped. I would not have survived it.”

He leaned forward and
clasped her hands. “I swear I had nothing to do with it. I would never hurt
you. My God,
Liv
. If you cannot accept my trust, how
can you ever accept my love?”

A few stray tears rolled
down her bruised cheeks. “I did not want to believe it. But as I told you, my
trust has been battered.”

Jesus.
His insides roiled with a multitude of emotions. He raised her
trembling hands to his lips and kissed them passionately.

“I never should have
left you. Forgive me. I pledge I will never leave your side again.”

“Oh, Gideon,” she
sobbed.

He wanted to take her in
his arms. Carry her out of here. Protect and love her always.

“Listen to me. Look at
me. I should have told you the other night while you lay in my arms. I am in
love with you,
Liv
.
Love, complete
and utter passionate devotion.”
He kissed her hands again. “Never have I
felt this way, it is vexing and confusing. But I am sure of what I feel. Trust
me, know I will never see you harmed again. I will slay whoever threatens you.
Know this.”

She nodded. “I love you,
too. And I believe you, Gideon. I am sorry I doubted you.”

God.
His heart dipped clear to the floor. Kissing her
hands one last time, he laid them gently on her lap and sat back in his chair.

“Thank you. Now, let us
puzzle this out. Besides us, who knew you were staying at the townhouse?”

Liv
frowned. “Well, James. I left him a note. It was not
him, though.”

That stung. She was
quick to deem Sidle innocent, yet she believed he had instigated her abduction.
A stab of jealousy curled about his soul. He shook off the feelings and tried
to remain focused.

“Besides the house
staff, the only other person who knew was my father.”

As soon as he spoke the
words aloud, the realization that the duke would set such a horrible plan in
motion slammed him. The man had a long reach, and was vindictive enough to see
it done.