Sinful Possession (2 page)

Miss Radley nodded.

“Let us find someone to take
care of you.”

She drew in a long sniffle
and nodded again, holding his jacket tight around her. It would smell of her
perfume later. His gut clenched.

“Thank you for your help—”

He didn’t get to speak to
her again. A hustle of people washed down the steps from Spencer House, all
decked in their finery. He gathered they were her family and friends as they surrounded
her, forcing him back. His brother tapped his arm, but he kept his attention on
the beautiful woman. Her gaze clung to his.

“I found a bobby,” Harris
murmured. “Ash.”

His brother’s serious tone
brought his attention back to him, and he tore his gaze from Lila. “Yes?”

“This was not some random
attack. Well, perhaps it was. Not premeditated as they say. But the fiend who
did it...a serial killer.”

The news punched him like a
fist to the gut. “There’s been nothing in the papers.”

“The police did not want to
cause a panic, but from what I overheard, this type of attack—at this time of
day on a lone man, by knife—is becoming a weekly occurrence.”

“Lord Almighty,” he
breathed. “It could just be a similar attack though, surely?”

Harris lifted a shoulder. “The
doctor said it was the same.” He offered a tilted but grim smile. “Not a lot of
fun watching him poke around Westerling’s body but who knows how much they will
tell us?”

“You always were a sneaky
bastard.”

Harris flashed a
half-hearted smile. “Hey, if you are determined to get yourself involved in a
murder, I have to look out for you. After all, if something happened to you, I
would no longer be known as the handsome twin.”

“Handsome, my arse. We’re
identical.”

“Very well, the charming one
then.”

He had to give him that one.
Harris was by far the more charming of them both. Ash let out a long, low
curse. He should have been here. Damned headache. Westerling was an ass and a
blackguard but to be murdered? Ash supposed the women he’d attacked would not
feel any remorse. He glanced toward Lila.

She had not deserved to
witness as much, however. This was his fault.

“You realise you could be in
danger.”

Ash snorted. “How so?”

“You saw the killer.”

“I saw very little before
receiving a punch to the gut.”

“Too busy admiring the
beautiful debutante eh?”

He turned his full attention
on his brother. “Pardon?”

Harris chuckled, but his
expression grew serious. A strange look for his brother indeed. “She could be
in danger too.”

This caught his attention
fully. “Because she saw the murderer.”

“She’s a witness.”

“Yes.” Ash pushed a hand
through his hair. Bloody Goddamn headaches. Why could he not have ignored it
and simply arrived on time? None of this would have happened.

He should warn her. If the
police were trying to keep the murder quiet, who knew if they’d even tell her? Ignoring
his brother, he marched after the crowd of people as they ushered Lila back
into the house. Because she was surrounded by what looked to be hundreds of
worried relatives, he hung back to wait for his chance.

Lila mustered a brave smile. It didn’t matter
that now was not the time nor the place. His gaze skimmed her décolletage as
she leant in and spoke with someone. Those golden curls spilling over creamy
skin only intrigued him further. No doubt she was receiving so much attention
because of her looks, but it was the bold tilt of her chin and the brave set of
her shoulder that drew him completely in. He’d have expected most women to have
fallen into a swoon by now.

Chapter Two

Her rescuer lingered in the hallway, resting against the
wall with his arms folded. Now, after the shock and the images of blood and the
cry of the poor man were dissipating, she could appreciate the attractiveness
of her rescuer. Ash had a strong chin with a slight dip in it and a little
stubble. Her gaze dropped to the blood stain on his shirt, and she forced it
back up.

Yes, handsome indeed. A
little mussed but that might have been from the tussle. She’d been too preoccupied
with keeping that terrifying dagger from plunging into her chest to notice if
he had been well turned out beforehand.

Oh dearie dear, what an
evening. Lila should never have slipped out of the ball, but she had longed for
a little space from her many, many suitors. It was all terribly good fun
receiving attention from so many men, but it was wearying after a while and she
had only been in London for a week. It was certainly a big adjustment.

After a quick nip of brandy
given to her by her grandmother, she was beginning to feel like her usual self,
but she did wish all these people would leave her be. Exhaustion edged into her
mind, and she resisted the desire to yawn. Her aunts and uncles were still
crowded around her as though she might faint at any moment, when really all she
longed to do was escape her tight corset, pull down her hair fully, and curl up
in bed with a nice cup of tea and maybe a slice of cake.

Hmm, yes, that was an
appealing image.

She bit back another
encroaching yawn.

Lord…oh she couldn’t
remember his name so she called him Lord Curly Wurly due to his ridiculous moustache,
was being particularly attentive. Lila kept catching the look her grandmother
swung her way. This look said
Lord Curly Wurly would be a fine husband
.
Lila wasn’t so sure. How did one kiss someone with such a ridiculous moustache?

After all, once she was
married, she intended to do much kissing. She’d dreamed of kissing men for
years, and she could not wait to find herself a handsome husband who adored her
and longed to kiss her every moment of the day.

Lila tried not to stare at
the moustache as it moved with his words. She missed most of what he said, but
he spoke of her courage and if she needed anything...

She snapped her gaze up. “Thank
you, L—my lord. I will be quite well.”

Lila would. She’d been
waiting for her time in London for forever, and not even a murderer would spoil
that. Being trapped in the countryside with only her dogs for company, she’d
dreamed of what it would be like to be in London. When her parents had
announced they finally wanted her to seek out a husband—at the grand old age of
one and twenty no less—she’d hugged her father so tightly he’d nearly fallen
over.

By the time she’d extricated
herself from her concerned suitors and family, her rescuer’s brow had deepened with
grooves of annoyance. She swallowed. Why had he remained lingering in the
hallway if he had not wanted to stay?

Lila approached, feeling a
little like the lion tamer stepping carefully toward the beast. His top lip was
almost raised in a snarl as he eyed the hordes of suitors while they made their
way out of Spencer House. However, when his gaze landed upon her, his stance
and lips softened.

Of course, she’d heard of
the Cynfell brothers. They were notorious, and women were warned to stay well
away, even if the marquess was one of the richest men in England. Besides which,
he was now married so there went the title. While Ash Cynfell certainly lived
up to the tales and reckless handsomeness, she could not quite imagine him
seducing swathes of virgins. His scowl would surely keep them at bay.

“You need not remain,” she
told him when she came close. “It is so very late.”

He cast a glance toward the
men still moving reluctantly out of the door. “I did not see anyone else
leaving.” Ash eased himself away from the wall and unfurled his arms.

Goodness, that one simple
movement left her mouth dry. There was something simply fascinating about
watching the flex of his arms against his shirt.

“Oh.” She tugged the jacket
from around her shoulders and handed it back to him.

Ash stared at it for a
moment and slung it over one arm.

Then his gaze struck hers
again. His eyes were brown—a deep, molten chocolate brown. It was as though he
knew of her weakness for the confectionary and had deliberately decided that,
yes, today he would have chocolate brown eyes just to torture Miss Lila Radley.
Of course, that was a preposterous notion but it made her lips twitch.

His gaze dropped to her lips,
and the furrow between his brows deepened. “I need a private word with you.”

Her stomach danced at the
words. She peered around at her family—her many, many cousins and aunts and
uncles—all of whom cared for her but had a tendency to become easily
distracted. At present, most were preoccupied by the fare wellings of the
important men who had come really to decide if she was good enough for them.

It was odd how excited she
had been beforehand, but now she was not so sure about being weighed up by all
these strange men. She would almost prefer they were staring at her with a deep,
somewhat confused scowl.

Ridiculous. This was what
she’d been waiting for.
This
was her moment to shine.

Lila motioned to the smaller
drawing room at the side. Though she debated leaving the door open, she opted
against it. No one would notice a brief disappearance amongst the chaos.

And now she was shut in a
room with this handsome man. Her corset seemed to grow tighter as she moved
away from the door and waited for him to speak. He paced to the window, peered
out.

Lila scowled at his back. “My
lord?”

He appeared almost surprised
she had remained when he faced her. He eyed her again as if she were some
strange riddle he could not make out.

“Have you spoken with the
police?”

“Of course, I told them
everything I saw, though it was not enough I fear. I can hardly recall his
face.”

“And what did they tell you
of the murder?”

“Very little. I mean what
could they possibly know already? It was the act of a madman, surely?”

“A madman who has escaped.”
He curled a fist.

His tone sent a chill down
her spine. “They assured me they will capture him.”

“Miss Radley, I think you
should consider leaving London. It’s not safe here.”

Lila stared at him. She
hardly knew this man, and yet he thought it reasonable to tell her what to do. “I
will not.”

The words came out harder
and more flustered than she’d intended. She drew in a breath and adopted a
delicate smile—one she’d practiced over and over in the mirror as she’d
imagined curtseying to all the handsome, fine men in London. She never thought
she’d be doing it to a man who was at present staring at her as though she had
just stripped off all her clothes and done a jig in the middle of the drawing
room. He appeared thoroughly perplexed by her refusal.

“My lord, I have only just
arrived in London, and I know I may not look the sturdiest of characters but be
assured, I will not let such a matter ruin my time here. No doubt it shall take
some time to forget, but I think it will be far easier to forget it amongst
London society than out in the country.”

“You will not find it so
easy to forget if you end up in danger,” he said grimly.

“What could possibly happen
to me? I am never alone, even if I wish to be—”

“You were alone tonight,”
Ash interjected and took a step closer as if to intimidate her.

Lila squared her shoulders.
While she might look every part the delicate debutante, growing up on her parent’s
estate had taught her much. She was not unused to dealing with boorish
creatures—usually in the form of a horse or a farmer’s stubborn pig—but she
would not be intimidated by Ash Cynfell, even if his chocolatey eyes had turned
thunderous.

“I made a mistake and I
shall not make it again,” she assured him coolly.

“And you think your family
can protect you?”

“Protect me from what? My
lord, if I were a murderer, I would be halfway across the country by now, not
waiting around to commit another crime.”

“
You
are not a serial
killer.” He’d inched closer again at some point and now perhaps only a pace
separated them.

Lila placed a hand to the
delicate marble-topped console table next to her to steady herself. “A serial
killer? L-like the Ripper?”

He nodded slowly.

A laugh escaped her. “Do not
be silly. This was a horrible, horrible act, but surely someone would have
said. The papers would have written something about it by now.”

“I should imagine after the
Ripper murders, they are wanting to keep it quiet. After all, they won’t want a
panic or to risk any of those copycat murders.”

A chill ran through her, and
she wished for the subtly scented comfort of his jacket. She recalled tales of
the Ripper, even though she had been but a young girl when the murders took
place. But her older brother, who had left to study in Europe many, many years
ago, had loved to terrify her with stories of him.

Her head spun a little and
nausea rolled in her stomach as flashes of blood and the cry of a dying man
raced through her mind. Ash put a hand to her arm to steady her.

“Let’s get you some air.”

Though tempted to reply with
something pithy about her safety, she had grown too light-headed so allowed him
to lead her out. He kept a hold of her arm while they made their way down the
steps and along the side railings. Ahead, she could see the police around the
man’s body and a few people lingered while they waited for their carriages to
be brought around. What had started as an exciting, wonderful evening of
dancing and flirting had become so very grim. She sighed. Oh deary dear.

Lila concentrated on drawing
in breaths while Ash helped her rest against the stone plinth in front of the
house.

“Can I get someone for you?”
he asked, concern etched into his brow.

She wondered then at the
lines in his brow. He wasn’t an old man so what had him so pained in life. He
must take things seriously indeed. It was hardly the right circumstances, but
she was willing to wager he rarely smiled even in the best of them.

Lila shook her head. The
last thing she wanted was her aunts and cousins fussing over her. She’d had
enough of that tonight and was weary of it.

“I just need a few moments.”

He nodded stiffly and set to
pacing slowly in front of her, like a sentry guard at Buckingham Palace.

“You’re making me dizzy,”
she told him softly, although that wasn’t really the truth.

He made her uncomfortable.
In an odd sort of way. In a
she longed to tear off her bodice and press
herself against him
sort of way. It made her feel hot and fidgety and did
not help with the whole struggling to breathe and feeling sick thing.

He paused. “Forgive me.”
Hands clasped behind his back, he eyed her. “You should leave London.”

“Yes, you said that, and no,
I will not. I will not let some madman ruin my time here.”

“I suppose you do not wish
to be taken away from your suitors.” The bitter tone to his voice surprised and
riled her.

“No, I do not,” she snapped.
“By the time my stay in London is at an end, I fully intend to be engaged.”

His eyes flared. But why?

“You should have caution,
Miss Radley. Marriage is not something one should take lightly. It is not a
game.”

“Are you married?” She knew
he was not—an aunt had muttered as much—but she was trying to make a snide
point. It was odd. She had spent her whole night being pleasant and charming, but
with this man, to whom she owed her life, she could not seem to summon her
carefully practiced manners.

“I am not.”

Lila gave a tiny triumphant
smile, but it seemed to be lost on him.

“Any one of those men could
be the killer.”

A tiny giggle escaped her as
she imagined Lord Curly Wurly brandishing a knife. “Do not be ridiculous.”

“For all you know, it could
have been someone attending the party tonight.”

“I think I would have
recognised him. Besides, I hardly noticed anyone attired in blood-soaked
clothing, did you?”

“The best place to hide is
in plain sight.”

“And you’re an expert on
this are you?”

Ash’s jaw twitched as he
eyed her. “You really are determined to get yourself hurt. I should go to your
family and demand they protect you.”

“And they shall laugh just
as I have. They no more want to end my stay here than I do. A good match shall
be good for all of us.”

It was true. Her father
owned a baronetcy and her mother came from good family, but they were wanted more
for her—all of them. From a young age, Lila had been seen as their great hope.
Blonde, pretty, sweet-natured. And then she’d grown into a woman with an
enviable figure and her mother had told everyone that there was simply no way
that she would not attract a wealthy, powerful man, because why else had she
been born so blessed? Born into a family of generally awkward and slightly
scatter-brained relatives, Lila had always been aware she was different from them
all.