Whitechapel Wagers 02 - Wanton Wager (8 page)

Will woke to an aching pain in his arm. Strangely, it was not his injured arm but his other. And it was tucked neatly under the body of a luscious woman. In the sunlight, he noticed her pale skin was freckled here and there, and her long, thick red hair trailed over her body in cunning ways. A curl curved around her neck, a strand had slipped down to trail over her breast, and a long wave of crimson stretched out over her arm.

He traced several strands with the tips of his fingers but was more interested in the smooth flesh underneath. Her nipple peaked when he stroked the tress near her breast and she turned fully onto her back, stretching with a satisfied little moan like a cat after a long nap.

When she opened her eyes and found him watching her, touching her, she looked momentarily flustered and reached to cover herself with the quilt. But Will would have none of it. He kissed her soundly and smiled against her mouth when he felt Ada slip her hand around his neck and pull him closer.

When he broke their kiss, she gave him a serious look.

“Do you think we’ve missed the first train back to London?”

He guessed they had, but he was confused by her desire for haste. It seemed prudent to question at least a few of the Ashdowne’s head servants before leaving Derbyshire.

“Should we not speak to the housekeeper at Wythorpe?”

At the mention of the Ashdowne’s family estate, Ada turned her head away. He could not blame her for wishing to avoid another encounter with the aristocrats, yet they had journeyed far to learn of her sister’s whereabouts. As yet they had found nothing.

No, not nothing. He had found everything. Ada turned back to him, her marvelous blue-green eyes glowing in the sunlight, and he wanted her with an acute ache, sharper and more vivid than anything he had ever felt in his life.

“You’re right. We should do all we can to find her, even if it means seeing Lord Ashdowne again.”

Will kissed the tip of her nose, afraid to kiss her mouth for fear he could not stop there. “If we hurry, we can call before the Ashdownes have even risen from their beds.”

***

Though the taproom was much the same as Ada recalled it from the night before, she was different. Despite the purpose of their journey and her lingering worry for Beth, Ada perceived a transformation. The world looked brighter, and in her heart she knew an ease, as sense of repletion so sweet she was tempted to doubt it, question it, even fear it. Instead she settled into it, let it flow and surge until she felt the twitch of a smile on her face for no particular reason at all.

As Will approached from the bar where he had retrieved cups of tea for each of them, a woman’s laughter echoed against the walls of the pub, mirroring the lightness in her heart and the elation she was beginning to embrace.

The laughter was hearty and then the woman began to shout, good naturedly but vehemently, and Ada nearly fell off her chair.

She shot up, nearly upsetting her teacup, and glimpsed a look of shock and concern on Will’s face before she turned toward the sound of the woman’s voice and started shouting herself.

“Beth! Beth!”

A head full of red-orange curls dipped out from a room near the pub’s bar. “Ada!”

Ada barreled toward her sister.

Beth reached out to embrace her and they spun for a moment, giggling and crying and repeating each other’s names.

Ada pulled back and held Beth at arm’s length. “My goodness, you look wonderful.” She gazed down at Beth’s belly. “Are you…?”

“No.”

“But you told Mother—”

“She would never have let me come otherwise.”

“Beth.” Ada said the word in a scolding tone and instantly regretted it. Two minutes in each other’s company and she and her sister had fallen into their roles of elder sister and younger.

“Who’s the toff?” Beth tipped her chin in Will’s direction and Ada looked back to find him watching them. He arched one tawny eyebrow, as if to inquire whether he was wanted, and Ada instantly nodded.

Ada leaned in to whisper to Beth before he reached them. “I very much hope he will be my husband.”

Beth reeled back and grinned. “Heavens, woman. I have only been gone the better part of a week.”

“Yes, and we’re so pleased to have found you.”

At the rich baritone of Will’s voice, Beth’s eyes went wide. She looked him up and down, taking in his tall frame and elegant clothes and looked repentant. After Ada made introductions, Beth began babbling out the story of her disappearance and how she came to be working at the Eagle and Castle Inn in Derby.

When Frederick Ashdowne had discarded her, despite promises of marriage and assurances she would be his countess one day, Beth had determined to rekindle his interest, no matter the cost. She attempted to speak to him at the Ashdowne’s London townhouse and was told the family had departed for their estate in Derbyshire.

After telling their mother of her false pregnancy and promising she could secure a real proposal from Ashdowne if she saw him again, Mother had encouraged the girl, even providing the last bit of funds to purchase a train ticket. Ada could not resist rolling her eyes at hearing the full measure of her mother’s involvement in the scheme. How could she have feigned worry and allowed Ada and Vicky to stew over Beth’s disappearance?

“But why did you not write? Why did you not come back to Whitechapel?”

Ada interrupted Beth’s story with her questions, but she needed answers. Will stood quietly, content to listen rather than interfere between sisters.

“I was ashamed, wasn’t I? Freddy was not here in Derbyshire. He lied. He lied and lied, and I believed him.” Beth pushed out her lip in a pout and Ada saw tears well in her eyes. “I couldn’t bear for Mama to know what a fool I’d been. For you to know.”

Ada reached for Beth’s hand, realizing how small and fragile it was. She had grown thinner in the past week, though she looked otherwise in good health—her eyes bright and a rosy bloom on her cheeks.

She tempered her tone, speaking softly. “Did you never mean to come home to us? To let us know how you fared?”

At the question, Beth’s eyes darted back to the room she’d exited when Ada called her name. Ada followed the direction of her gaze and noticed a young man, tall and lanky, with dark hair and eyes. Had he been watching their entire exchange?

Beth motioned to him with her hand and he stepped forward.

Ada noticed that his hair was a rich chocolate shade and his eyes much the same, though a bit lighter, and busy. He glanced momentarily at Will and Ada, but his gaze immediately returned to Beth. Ada knew that look. The boy loved her. And she had the cheek to comment on Ada’s hasty wooing!

“Ada, Mr. Selsby, this is Robert Cornforth.”

The young man reached out to shake Will’s hand and nodded politely to Ada before drawing closer to Beth.

“He has asked me to marry him and I’ve accepted.”

“Beth, that’s very sudden.” Will turned a raised-brow gaze on Ada the moment the words were out of her mouth. He of all people knew she had no place to chastise anyone about sudden affection, about the rush of sentiment between two people who had known each other a handful of days.

Breathing deeply, she smiled at Mr. Cornforth and then at the man she loved as fiercely as she had ever cared for anyone. Yes, she understood a love that kindled quickly and flashed into flame.

“I wish you both well. Truly, I do. But Beth, won’t you come back to Whitechapel with me to reassure Mother and Vicky you are well?”

Will reached a hand toward Ada and rested it possessively on her arm. She relished the weight and heat of his palm.

“Perhaps Mr. Cornforth would wish to come too?”

Mr. Cornforth looked surprised yet thankful to be included in the conversation.

“Aye, indeed, sir. I would like to accompany Beth anywhere she goes.”

The sentiment was spoken so plainly, heartfelt and without a trace of artifice, that Ada found it easy to understand how her sister could have become smitten so quickly. Then again, she’d been smitten with Lord Ashdowne too.

Was love so ephemeral, sparking up one day and then burning out only to kindle again, and quickly?

What she knew of Will she could scribble on a single scrap of paper—the facts she had learned about his family, his history, details about his life. Yet her heart knew so much more.

Didn’t it?

She turned her attention from Beth and Robert and slanted a gaze at Will. He watched the love-struck couple with a knowing grin on his face. Then he turned his head and caught her watching him. His grin deepened, revealing the twin clefts of his dimples, and spread into a smile. Her body pulsed in response and her heartbeat began a wild gallop. The man affected her, nothing to doubt there.

But what would become of them when they returned to their so very different lives? He would go back to his lovely townhouse in the West End, bantering with his sister and hobnobbing with aristocrats like Ashdowne, and Ada would return to The Golden Bell in the East End, with her overwrought mother, and the prospect of seeking new employment on the heels of a dismissal for immoral conduct.

After whispering to each other, Beth and Robert seemed resolved.

“I cannot come home with you just yet, Ada, but I will write a note for you to take back to Mother and share with Vicky.”

Beth was a woman. The thought struck Ada, as if she had never allowed for the truth of it before. She was a woman and knew her own mind. Perhaps she knew her own heart too.

“Very well. Will you come in a fortnight?”

Beth turned her eyes toward Robert and some secret communication seemed to pass between them.

“Yes, a fortnight from today. Rob and I will meet you at Euston Station. We’ll come on the early train.”

The news that Mr. Cornforth would be accompanying her sister pleased Ada. It seemed the man opposite her at the small pub table would soon be a member of the family.

When they stood to make their farewells, Beth clung to Ada for a long while, much as she had as a young girl when a storm or nightmare frightened her. But when they pulled apart, Ada looked into the eyes of a wiser young woman. Wiser and apparently happier than she had ever been in London.

Ada and Will found a conveyance to take them to the station and were just in time for an early afternoon train. They settled into a first class carriage, much like the one they secured for their journey up to Derbyshire.

Will sat close, and Ada appreciated his nearness, the now familiar scent of him, and the warmth of his body. Desire coiled low in her belly, but her mind would not allow her to act. Doubts, dark and nagging, hung over her like the storm clouds chasing across the autumn sky.

It was easier to watch the landscape pass away through the windows of the train than face the man beside her. If she looked into those grey eyes, she wouldn’t manage another sensible thought for the remainder of the journey.

He did not interrupt the silence between them, nor did he reach for her, as she half hoped he would. It seemed he would wait for her, and patiently, but he finally spoke, his voice low and calming.

“The countryside wears the autumn colors well.”

It did. Every shade of orange and brown and red painted the trees, at least those that still clung to their leaves.

Ada felt her face crease in a grin. “Quite a change from Whitechapel.”

“Will you miss it?”

“Derbyshire?”

Will smiled at her the way she smiled at Vicky when the child said something a bit silly but completely in earnest.

“I hope we will always have fond memories of Derbyshire, what little we saw of it. But I meant your home, Whitechapel. Will you miss it?”

A little flutter started in Ada’s belly, not only of the desire she always felt for him, but of hope.

“How could I miss it? I live there.”

“For now, yes, but I thought…” His grey eyes darkened as she watched him. The glimmer of pleasure that had been there the moment before was gone.

“Ada.” He reached for her then, clasping her hand, and leaning closer, so close she could feel his voice reverberating in her chest. “Do you not know I wish to marry you?”

“Do you?” The flutter in her belly took flight, soaring up, spreading out, filling her with emotion too great to contain. Tears threatened to spill, but she swallowed hard, determined to hold them back.

“Well I did attempt to ask you, but you interrupted me. It’s a very bad habit of yours, Miss Hamilton.” His smile belied the jesting nature of his chastisement.

He rose from the bench seat beside her and struggled to arrange his long body on one knee before her. He leaned heavily on his cane as he bent. “This is when such a device becomes quite useful.”

When he was before her, still clasping her hand, he opened his mouth as if to speak and then stopped, closing his mouth again.

“Have you changed your mind? I promise not to interrupt you this time,” she urged.

He shook his head, his eyes never leaving hers.

“I have no ring to give you. You must have a ring.”

She had never known frustration so acute, and Ada bit her lip to stop from crying out “Yes, yes, yes” before Will had even asked the question.