Sari Robins - [Andersen Hall Orphanage 01] (17 page)

He looked at her oddly.

She shrugged. “Kane is not a kind man, by any stretch.”

He tapped the cane against his leg. “I suppose I may have allowed that anger to color me against you.”

That was probably the closest thing to an apology the man was able to muster. “Well, since I adore Lady Rece, I suppose I will have to let that color me toward you.”

His brows lifted, and she could almost discern a twinkle in his blue eyes. “I can see why Dorothea likes you.”

Lillian raised a brow but did not reply.

After a moment, the man nodded curtly. “Have a care, Lady Janus. My Dorothea will be most upset if anything happened to you.” Swinging his cane, he strode from the room.

Lillian dropped into a vacant chair. “I do not like drama with my breakfast,” she muttered.

Nick recovered his plate from the sideboard and sat. “Do you usually face such animosity in higher circles?”

“The younger set tends to favor my company. I am deemed somewhat of a novelty. Yet I am not received in most of the homes where I was welcomed when I was with my grandparents. The majority of the matrons in polite Society will not speak to me.” Her shoulder rose in a nonchalant shrug. “But I do not care. Rece was always particularly hostile toward me. Now I know why. Kane is like a poison to everything he touches.”

“He did not say that his quarrel was with Kane,” he replied, lifting his goblet.

“Who else could it have been with? My grandpar
ents were some of the most admirable people to ever live. And my mother could not clash with a flea.” Toying with a fork, she remarked, “If only she’d had more of a backbone, then perhaps she would have refused to marry Kane. I know she did not want to. Then I wouldn’t be in this fine kettle of fish.”

“No, you’d likely be in a kettle of a different variety.”

“You are probably right. Being an unmarried woman with a child would have been inordinately hard for her. And she was not the strongest of women to begin with.”

“Lord Rece has the reputation for being reasonable, not quick to anger. So it must have been a serious quarrel for him to have carried the grudge for so long.” Nick slipped a piece of bacon into his mouth.

“I do not care to know anything about it. I have a bellyful of strife; I need not hear more.”

She had been feeling so good, and now she felt as if she had been ripped through briars. Why? She should be feeling glad for Lady Rece’s support. Her husband did not account.

“I expect that I don’t wish to be the reason that a husband and wife are at odds,” she stated slowly. “A friendship should not have unwarranted costs.”

“Every relationship carries a price—not financially, of course.”

“Even marriage?”

“Especially marriage. It’s like pouring everything into one unstable connection.”

“Why unstable?”

“Because it has to end.”

“Not all marriages fail.”

“Of course they do; someone dies. In the end, one spouse is left behind. Alone. Until death do us
part.”

She felt a pain tear at her heart for the scars he carried. No wonder he did not want to marry, did not wish for children. He could not bear loss; he had had his fill of it.

“Fanny says that love is the fruit of life’s feast, the cream in the pudding.”

He shrugged. “Then that’s one meal I’ll just have to miss.”

“Perhaps that’s not a terrible approach,” she murmured, not quite believing it. “If there is no love, there can be no love lost.” Yet, her grandparents had embraced her in a loving family. They had taught her that life was a struggle to be enjoyed for its sweet and bittersweet moments. She knew that if they could voice it, they would say that any heartache was worth it, to have experienced the joy. She had her own reasons for not bringing a child into her life, but fear of heartache was not one of them. In fact, her reasoning was the opposite. No matter her own selfish desires for a child, since she would not marry, she would not burden an innocent babe with the life of a scandal-ridden unwed mother.

He watched her a long moment. “You seem sad.”

“I was just thinking about my grandparents. They’d always hoped that I would marry. Preferably to Dillon.” She shook off her melancholy and tried for a smile, but it was slight. “Perhaps I should have the carriage brought around? We can go visit Dillon this morning.” She sighed. “It seems that Newgate Prison has become my new haunt these days.”

“That reminds me. Can we get any more of that
Cognac from the other night?” He grimaced. “Untainted, of course.”

Abashed, she felt her cheeks heat.

“I need it for bribes,” he explained. “At Newgate things move more smoothly if the wheels are greased.”

“You mean the palms.”

“Those too. Besides the usual state of affairs, John Newman is a font of information if you dig enough. Digging at Newgate can only mean two things, bones or bribes.”

“Believe it or not, Fanny sent a few bottles over to your residence. An apology of sorts, for drugging you, and all.”

“Is she sorry?”

“Actually, she’s quite pleased with herself.”

He snorted and then ate his eggs. After a moment, he wiped his napkin on his lips. “Was it her plan or yours?”

“Her idea, my execution.”

His face darkened.

She had not meant it the way it sounded. Mortified, Lillian rose. He moved to stand, but she motioned for him to remain seated.

“I will go call the carriage.” Turning, she left him to his meal.

“Y
ou are very quiet,” Nick opined as the carriage rocked on its way from Newgate Prison.

“Dillon was not very happy with me,” Lillian replied softly. “And who could blame him?”

Nick’s gaze softened. “He did not take it too badly, once you had explained your reasons.”

“Thank you for not letting on about how I imparted the intelligence to you.”

“Of course not.” He waved a dismissive hand. “The important thing is that he seemed to understand that I would not breach his confidence. You are obviously very dear to him, and he trusts you well.” Tilting his head, he inquired, “But that is not the only thing bothering you?”

Lillian bit her lip. “I just…well, I had no idea that such places existed.”

“Where there is a demand for such services, there will always be someone willing to meet it.”

“I suppose I am just naïve, but a brothel just of men…for men…” Looking out the window, she tried to thrust the disquieting images from her mind.

“It answers the question of why no one stepped forward to claim that Beaumont was with them on the night of Lady Langham’s murder.”

“So it was not helpful in the least?”

“No. I’m sorry.”

She sighed, adjusting her skirts. “You had to try.”

They rode along, the sounds of carriage wheels, horses’ hooves clattering on stone, and street vendors hawking their wares filtering through the cabin.

“Halt!” a loud voice boomed from outside the carriage. “Halt, by order of the queen!”

Nick stuck his head out the window just as the coach rolled to a stop.

“What is happening?” Lillian asked, peering over his shoulder.

A rider wearing a scarlet coat trimmed with gold braid sat atop a gray charger, trying to keep the mount under control in the congested street.

“What does a royal servant want with me?” she asked.

“I suspect he’s more interested in me,” Nick remarked, swinging the door open and stepping down to greet the man.

Lillian tried not to ogle as she watched the men converse, the servant on his steed and Nick on the ground. If only the street noise would tone down, then she might be able to hear the discussion. She did not dare attempt to get out and join them, but
she listened carefully for any stray bits of conversation.

The man in the ornate royal livery was scowling and seemed upset, and Nick was arguing with him. Dear heavens! She marveled at Nick’s gall. Nick raised his voice, and even from her perch, Lillian could see the liveried servant’s cheeks blanch. After a moment, the man nodded curtly. Nick spun on his heel and marched back to the carriage.

Yanking open the door, he looked up at her. “There is an emergency regarding the queen. Would you do me the favor of taking me to Windsor Castle?”

“An emergency? The queen?” she sputtered, aghast. “Of course.”

“Follow that servant to Windsor Castle posthaste!” he ordered the coachman. Then he stepped inside and slammed the door shut.

Through the window Lillian saw the servant wheel his horse around and charge through the crowded streets, making way.

Jon Driver shouted, “H’yah!” and the wheels of the carriage rolled into motion.

Lillian blinked and turned to Nick. “Windsor?”

“I am on retainer to the queen.”

Lillian was flabbergasted, impressed and alarmed. “Is Her Majesty unwell?”

“I have no idea, but I doubt it,” he remarked, staring out the window, his face etched with tension. “I’m no doctor, just an investigator.”

“But how did he find us?”

“Warden John Newman sent the royal servant after us. Apparently the man had been dashing about Town looking for me.”

“You.” She shifted in her seat. “So I was not requested at Windsor?”

His nod was terse.

“Nick?”

“Yes?”

“I don’t think that it’s such a good idea for me to come with you.”

He shifted his shoulders. “No matter.”

“You were called upon, Nick. I was not. One does not simply ‘drop in’ on Queen Charlotte.”

“They need me, I’m with you. They will be appreciative of your help.”

“Appreciative? I am not welcome in most homes of the
ton
, I am certainly not received by royalty. My very presence will cause you a devilishly awkward situation.”

“Don’t you wish to be of service to Her Majesty?”

Lillian closed her mouth, scowling. He obviously had no idea what he was dragging her into. And he was trying to manipulate her at that. She bit her lip, realizing that he had played her well. It was a chance in a lifetime to help the queen. Her Majesty had been a beloved friend to her grandfather, and she was Lillian’s favorite member of the royal family. Although Lillian would not proclaim it too loudly where the Prince Regent could hear.

But Lillian was no longer just Lord Janus’s granddaughter; she was the Marquis of Beaumont’s paramour. She licked her lips. “My very presence might get you sacked, Nick. Please let me off and take my carriage. Gillman can escort me home.”

He crossed his arms. “I am not going haring off to Windsor and leaving you behind to fall victim to Kane’s clutches.”

“I’m not that helpless, Nick. I can take precautions—”

He swung sideways, facing the window. “No.”

Having a champion was nice, but having a dictator was unacceptable. “I have done just fine the last two years—”

“Like you did last night?”

She stiffened. “That is not a mistake I will make twice.”

“Neither will Kane or whomever he is working with. They have less than two weeks to see Beaumont hang, Lillian. They are growing desperate.”

“They’re not the only ones,” she muttered.

“Do you or do you not want my help?” His cocoa brown eyes had taken on a dangerous glint.

“Well, of course, but—”

“Then you have to abide by my decisions.” It was like a door slamming in her face.

She felt herself bristle like a cat who has seen a foe. She crossed her arms. “You do not have leave to order me about, Nicholas Redford.” She rapped her parasol on the ceiling. “Stop the coach!”

The horses whinnied and the wheels slowed.

Nick swung his head out the window, shouting, “Don’t you lose that royal servant, Jon! Get moving!”

“Heyah!” Jon Driver called to the horses.

The carriage lurched forward, throwing Lillian back into the seat.

“You cannot order my servants about!” she cried.

“You told them to accept my commands. When you were of a more rational mind, that is. Now, at least, you will be safe. If Windsor isn’t secure, then I don’t know where is. And I cannot do my job there while worrying about you haring off straight into danger.”

The nerve!
Her anger rose like a righteous inferno. “Who the blazes do you think you are?”

“I’m the man in charge of ensuring your safety.”

“If I wanted a bodyguard I would have hired one!”

“You got a double service for one price. I save your beloved Beaumont and watch your back. I’d say you made off pretty well in the deal and should be happy for the service.”

“Don’t tell me what I should be feeling! You have no idea what I want, what I need—”

“Oh, I have an idea.” His arms were around her in an instant, pulling her across the small space and into his lap. Firm lips pressed against hers, silencing her cries.

She tried to struggle but knew that it was simply for show. She wanted his lips, his taste, the feel of him pressing against her. Being around him all morning was like being surrounded by the aroma of melted chocolate but not being able to taste the candy.

His tongue conquered her mouth, sweeping across her teeth in broad, demanding strokes. She shivered, never having experienced anything like it. His tongue met hers, sending thrills rocketing to her toes. Wrapping his arms tightly around her, he kneaded her bottom as if he had been dying to do it all day. He groaned inside her mouth. She could not catch her breath from the intoxicating assault on her senses.

In his kisses, he demanded her obedience, and she rose to fight him. Defiantly, she kissed him back. Boldly she lathed his mouth, tasting a hint of eggs and bacon. Taking his quick lesson and turning it against him, she pressed her hips into his manhood, feeling her effect on him, how much he wanted her.
Passion was both their weapons, sweeping over her with a force that left her winded.

Nick pulled away, his breath coming in pants, his heart pounding so hard that it drummed in his ears. Carefully, he set Lillian down on the seat beside him and then shifted across to the opposite cushion. He would have gone to sit up top if it wouldn’t have forced them to stop the coach.

Moreover, it would have shown his weakness, and he was never one to admit an Achilles’ heel for a woman.

She watched him with satisfaction glinting in her azure eyes. Her lips were red and swollen, and her breast rose and fell with each shallow breath. Her peaches-and-cream cheeks had two high spots of color, and she looked so delectable that he wanted to yank her back onto his lap and finish the job he’d started. But he had made a promise to himself, one he was going to try to keep despite this slip.

They rode along, the silence only broken by the jangle of the wheels and the clatter of horse hooves.

“Not a way to win an argument,” she finally remarked, wiping a gloved finger across the corner of her lip.

“I wasn’t trying to win. I just wanted…” What the hell had he wanted except to be inside of her? To taste her, hold her…But she was an innocent. He would be a selfish bastard to take advantage of her. And she would hate him for it, in the end. Her words haunted him,
“Fanny’s idea, my execution.”
Looking back, she viewed their first coupling as a death sentence. In a way it was, for she was ruined. And he was the one who had stolen her innocence.
He was not about to do her another injustice simply to feed his lust.

“We need to call a truce,” he finally declared.

“I didn’t know we were at war.” She stuck her bottom lip out, reminding him of a lush cherry.

“Look, Lillian, we’re about to arrive at Windsor, and I can’t have you distracting me.” As if she could help it.

“I’m not the one who started”—she licked her lips—“that.”

“I know.” Removing his hat, he ran his hand through his hair. “It was a mistake. My mistake. And I will not repeat it again.”

“Kissing me was not your mistake, trying to control me was. I am not yours to be ordered about.”

“No.” He let out a long breath. “You are not. But I do need your help.”

She crossed her arms, looking out the window. “I will not be manipulated into doing your bidding.”

“You’re right. I suppose I was tense about the summons. I had not expected it. And certainly not now when I need to be working on Beaumont’s defense.” He worried the rim of his hat with his fingers.

She sat up, alarmed. “What do you expect will happen?”

“I cannot ignore the summons.”

“Of course not.”

“So I can only hope to resolve whatever the matter is at Windsor as quickly as possible, then return to London and finish the job for you.”

Anxiety furrowed her brow.

“Don’t worry, Lillian, I will not desert Beaumont.”

“But what if you have no choice?” Her voice had risen.

“I won’t let that happen. If things turn south, then I can always try to get a postponement of the trial.”

“Dagwood won’t give it.”

“He might, if the circumstances were compelling. We just have to wait and see what’s to greet us at Windsor. Then try to deal with it as expeditiously as possible.”

She swallowed. “What can I do to help?”

That she was able to see past her anger so quickly and focus on what needed to be done amazed him. Lillian was a remarkably intuitive lady, and her practicality would have impressed even Dunn.

“You can help me traverse the political waters of Windsor more quickly…,” he offered.

“You are assuming that I won’t be tossed out on my cheeky bottom.”

“If there is a true emergency, then that’s unlikely to happen.”

“You don’t know royalty.”

“Exactly. Which is why I could really use your help.”

“I don’t think that I’m going to do you one bit of good.”

“But you will accompany me?”

“I don’t see that we have an alternative. Dillon is counting on us.”

He thanked his lucky stars that she was so pragmatic.

They rode along in silence, the sway of the carriage bringing Nick a sense of calm he would never have dreamed of when going to Windsor on a job. Perhaps it was having Lillian along with him. He
might be headed into trouble, but he had a capable ally on his side. Now if he could only keep his hands off her. She could not help how she looked, how she moved, how she drew him like a bear to sweet berries. But he refused to be tempted. A promise made was a promise kept.

“I have always wanted to see Windsor,” she commented, staring out the window at the countryside flashing by. “I have only seen renderings.”

Leave it to Lillian to try to put a sunny face on a tense situation.

“Perhaps you will meet Queen Charlotte,” he offered.

“Heaven forbid! I am not dressed for court. This is hardly acceptable attire—”

“Don’t worry, Lillian. All will be well. I promise.”

Her eyes flashed, and she settled back in the seat. “Don’t make promises you cannot keep, Nick.”

He swallowed.

They rode the rest of the way in silence, and from opposite sides of the coach.

Lillian could not help herself; as the carriage rolled down the long drive, she almost hung out the window for a better view of the magnificent gray stone castle. With its formidable walls sitting up high on a hill above the Thames, it rightly took her breath away. It was an imposing patchwork of both rounded and square towers, narrow windows and tall walls. But the forbidding quality of the buildings was softened by the green lawns rolling alongside the carriage, the thick emerald forests flashing by and the hundreds of flowers in all shades of red, orange, gold and purple spattered on the grounds. Despite the nervous butterflies swarming in her
middle, she could not help but appreciate the amazing mixture of man’s progress amid nature’s plenty.