Heart of Iron (22 page)

Lena’s heart hammered along at a clipping pace. Her feet ceased drumming against his ankles and she slumped in his grip, her breasts pressing against his forearm. In the corner, movement caught her eye. A freestanding cheval mirror, showing the pair of them locked together in an illicit embrace. Lena’s eyes widened as they met his. He was huge and wet and brooding, the amber spark of his eyes flaring in warning. Spoiling for a fight by the look of him.

Her eyes narrowed. He wasn’t the only one who wanted an argument. This was going to be the last time he frightened her.

She bit the fleshy pad of his palm.

“If I let you go are you goin’ to behave?”

Lena wriggled furiously.

“I’ll assume that means ‘no.’” Hauling her toward the bed, he tossed her on it. Before she could even bounce, he’d whipped a silk scarf off the floor and gagged her with it.

Lena’s eyes widened further and she kicked at him, making a strangled sound behind the scarf. Will pinned her, his hands driving her wrists into the bed and his legs straddling hers. The nightgown rucked up around her thighs in the struggle and she stilled as his gaze dropped. There was a world of heat in that look.

“Truce?”

Lena nodded warily. As he sat back, kneeling over her, she reached up and tugged the scarf out of her mouth.

“What the devil are you
doing
here?”

He clapped a hand over her mouth. “If Barrons finds me here, we’ll be contracted for marriage before we know it.” Their eyes met. “Neither of us wants that, do we?”

Her heart pounded uncertainly. Then she gave her head a vehement shake. She’d seen her sister’s happiness and good fortune. The only thing worse than a marriage made of duty would be one of unrequited feelings.

Will stared at her for a long moment, his expression hardening. His hand dropped from her mouth, trailing over her cheek before falling to his lap.

“He wouldn’t force a contract on us anyway,” she murmured. “Leo would probably pretend he’d never seen you here—after escorting you to the door and removing the trellis outside my window.”

“Wouldn’t stop me.” His fingers toyed with the sash of her robe. Then Will realized what he’d said. “If I wanted to get in.”

“Stop it.” Her hand clapped over his. His palm flattened against her abdomen, devilishly warm. “You’re taking entirely too many liberties.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened.”

Something about his expression warned her. “What do you mean by that?”

A long silence. “Nothin’.”

She had the feeling he wasn’t talking about the kiss they’d shared. Lena shoved his hand away. “What do you want? What are you doing here anyway?”

Water slicked his hair against his head, dripping down the open collar of his throat. His gaze was hard and flat. He held up a piece of paper and with a start she realized it was the other piece of the letter he’d torn from her.

The last time she’d seen it she’d stuffed it up the chimney, behind a loose brick where she could take the time to try and decipher it.

“Lookin’ for the truth,” he said. “Since I ain’t likely to get it from you.”

“That’s mine.” Lena snatched at it but his grip was firm. They glared at each other. His shirt clung to his shoulders indecently; the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his leather waistcoat sculpted every muscle of his chest. A bead of water hovered in the dip of his lip, another sliding down his roughened cheek. God, she wanted to run her hands over his shoulders, to trace that droplet of water with her tongue.

To sink her hands into the wet mess of his hair and drag his mouth down. To hers.

Taking a deep breath, Lena shivered with unrequited longing. “What are you going to do with it? Decode it?”

“Aye.”

Lena licked her lips. “Perhaps it’s for the best.” She wanted to know what it said just as much as he did. “As long as you don’t breathe a word to anyone else about it.”

“Afraid Honoria will yell?”

“Afraid she’ll lock me in a convent.”

“Perhaps you ought to be.” The gold color of his eyes was molten.

Lena froze. He’d made it quite clear kissing her had been a mistake. And yet… Her nipples tightened under his burning gaze. The way he was looking at her was almost edible. This mood of his was unpredictable.

She had to get him out of here before she did something foolish.

“Is that everything you came for?” She let go of her end of the piece of paper. “You scared me half to death.”

Rain battered the windows as he knelt back onto his knees. He didn’t seem in any hurry to leave.

“Will? Whatever this is, you could have waited ’til tomorrow.”

Will’s expression remained hooded. “You and I need to talk.”

“Not tonight. If anyone—”

“Tonight,” he growled, and another low peal of thunder rumbled through the room. “I give you enough chances. Tonight I’ve had enough. I want answers and you’re damned well goin’ to give ’em to me. All you’re goin’ to do is answer yes or no, do you understand?”

Lena nodded slowly. Will always kept his temper even and controlled. He didn’t dare let it loose. Tonight there was a wildness there that urged for caution.

“Do you know who Mercury is?”

Her breath caught. “I don’t… I’m not sure what—”

Will pressed a finger to her lips. “Yes. Or no. Do you know who Mercury is?”

Where had he heard that name? And why would he suspect her of a connection to it? She had to play this right, or who knew how he’d react? Lena nodded hesitantly. “Yes.”

He didn’t like that, she realized. A frown drew his eyebrows together. “Damn it, Lena. What the devil have you gotten yourself involved in?”

There was no way to answer that with a simple yes or no.

As if realizing her intentions, his eyes narrowed. “Do you have any involvement with the humanists? With Mercury?”

“Yes. And no.”

“Lena, the Nighthawks are huntin’ Mercury! It won’t be long before they find him and anyone connected to him. Today I had to promise Sir Jasper Lynch that I’d keep an eye out for any signs of him. Even as I said the words I knew I were lyin’, for I knew you were involved.” With a disgusted look, he raked his hands through his hair. “What am I goin’ to do with you?”

The question brought to mind a number of answers. But she didn’t think he’d approve of any of them.

“Well? Are you goin’ to tell me what’s goin’ on?”

The answer to that was simple enough. Panic flashed through her. “No.”

“That’s the wrong answer, luv.”

“That’s the only one you’re getting.”

“I could make you tell me.” He leaned closer, looming over her.

Lena scooted back up the bed until her back hit the headboard. “I hardly think you’d dare. Since you don’t want to be found in my chambers any more than I want you found. I’ll scream.”

The look on his face made her breath shudder.

“You’ll try,” he said. One large hand latched around her ankle, the obscene heat of his skin branding her. His eyes had gone completely wolfish as he drew her toward him.

Her nightgown slid over the silken sheets, sliding up around her hips. The robe was tumbling from her shoulders. There was a moment where she could have saved it. A moment where sanity intruded. A moment where she remembered the look in his eyes… Was it real? Or had she just imagined it? Did he want her?

Heaven
help
me
, she prayed silently. Then she gave a little shrug and the robe slipped from her shoulders, pooling around her waist.

She had to know.

Will’s gaze sharpened. Heat. Hunger. An intensity that scalded her from within. She’d been
right
. It was not disinterest that tightened his expression and tensed the muscles in his forearms.

The realization was heady. She could barely breathe as he reached out and captured her chin in one hand.
Yes, oh God, yes
.

He turned her face to the side, his hot gaze running down her throat. Then to the other side. Lena frowned, capturing his wrist. What was he doing?

Ignoring the delicate scalloped lace neckline of her gown, he caught her wrist and turned it up.

No
. Her breath caught and she wrenched her arm to her chest in shock. She knew exactly what he was looking for now.

“Lena.” His hand fisted in the bottom of her nightgown.

The amber gleam frightened her. There was no lucidity to it, no sign of Will. Only the predator, his face tight with anger. Clutching his hand, she slid it higher, over the inside of her thigh and the raised scar there.

The ugly reminder of what Colchester had taken from her that day in the alley.

“Is this what you’re looking for?” She pushed him away and scrambled for the side of the bed. The hurt was a sharp, stabbing pain in her chest. For a moment, just a moment, she’d thought he was going to kiss her again.

Sliding her robe up over her shoulders, Lena yanked the sash tight and tied it. “How did you know?”

There was no answer.

Lena turned and found him kneeling in the middle of her bed, his head bowed and his hands clenched in her sheets. A tremble ran through his shoulders and his hand jerked. Slowly his head lifted. A shiver ran down her spine as their eyes met.

“Colchester told me.” His voice was hoarse. “Told me he’d had you.”

A line of heat sprang across her cheeks.
Damn
it, not now
. Tilting her head discreetly to the side, she wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “You saw him? Where? I told you not to do anything rash.”

“I were at the jewelers. He walked in.” A shifting of sheets and then his booted feet came into view. Will knelt in front of her. This close, she could make out the split in his lip and the faint bruise on his cheekbone. Someone had hit him. Colchester, she was sure of it.

“Lena?” The back of his fingers stroked her damp cheek. “What happened?”

His gentleness nearly undid her. She pushed past in a flurry of silk, panic catching her breath in her chest. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Three steps before he caught her. She whirled around to push him away and found herself in the circle of his arms. His chest was firm against her cheek, his heat enveloping her. God help her, but she couldn’t stop her fingers from curling in his shirt. She felt so safe here in his arms. The fight drained out of her. If only he could hold her like this forever.

If only he wanted to.

“Damn it, what did he do to you?” Will’s voice was strangled. “Did he—did he rape you?”

“No,” she blurted. “But not for lack of trying.” The memory stained her. Colchester, a handsome young dandy in the streets, stopping to smile and charm her. She’d not thought it odd at all, for she’d been used to such flirtation before her father died. She even recognized him as the Duke of Lannister’s heir, though she’d been a fool to think for one second that he saw her as anything other than a coal lass. Easy prey.

“He took my blood.” Forced her back into the alley. Shoved her hard against the wall. Her pails had spilled everywhere, coal tumbling across the dirty cobbles. She’d tried to say no, unable even then to comprehend what was happening. “I didn’t want it. I didn’t. But he kept saying I did, that I’d like it.”

Warmth burned on her cheeks. As soon as she realized she was crying, a sob overtook her. Colchester had been right. She had liked it, in the end. The chemicals in his saliva had set off some sort of reaction in her body.

Will’s hands came up and gently pressed against her back. “Easy now,
mo
cridhe
.” He rubbed soothing circles against her back. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”

But she wasn’t safe. The tears came harder. Safe was a world without the Echelon and their grasping blood-suckers in it. Without humanists threatening her family, or Colchester stalking her. Safe was a world where she was loved and happy. Safe was here. In Will’s arms.

“And the humanists?”

“I d-didn’t mean to get caught up in all of this.” But the words were a lie. She’d wanted to find something, anything, to give her a sense of purpose in life.

“Caught up in what?” His voice was lower, huskier. “Lena?” he whispered, stroking the hair off her sticky face. “Tell me.”

She pushed out of the comfort of his arms and turned away, shamelessly wiping her face against the shoulder of her nightgown. She knew what he wanted, but she had to explain to him first, to show him that her reasons for all of this hadn’t just been some frivolous whim. Maybe then he wouldn’t hate her so much if he found out what she was supposed to do. “There was nothing for me in Whitechapel. Honoria had Blade. And Charlie was settling in. We were always so close, but he didn’t want to be around me once he became a blue blood. And then—” Her voice broke slightly and she hurried on. “You were gone. And nobody wanted me there.

“I thought that if I returned to society things would change. It was what I’d been raised for. Honoria always had Father and her work, but growing up there was nothing for me but lessons on etiquette and the things a young lady ought to know. When Father died and we were forced to hide in Whitechapel, I was on the cusp of making my debut. It was the happiest time of my life.” Her voice trailed off. “I just wanted to go back to it.”

Everyone had praised her beauty and charm then, and the glimpse she’d had of the Echelon had only fuelled her excitement to join it. But she had looked at it through innocent eyes. Whitechapel had changed everything about her. She was no longer that naive young girl with stars in her eyes. There was no going back, and it had taken a long time to realize that.

“The rot’s not apparent at first,” she said. “Leo sponsored my debut and everyone was so charming and elegant. Of course they were. They wanted something from me. I was offered three thrall contracts in the first week. It was terribly exciting.”

“You never accepted ’em.”

She couldn’t turn around and look at him. Crossing her arms over her chest, she shook her head. “One of them—Lord Ramsay—invited me to stroll in the garden with him. I knew what he intended. It’s not uncommon for a woman to offer blood before a contract is signed.” Her voice dropped. “I couldn’t. The more I thought about it, the more it upset me. I couldn’t breathe. All I could think about w-was Colchester. In that alley. I was so overwrought that Lord Ramsay slapped me and then Leo was there and he took me home and I-I—”