Once Upon a Masquerade (10 page)

Why had she given herself to him? The question blazed through his mind, inspiring others to follow. He pushed them all away, determined to hold on to this moment as long as he could.

Grazing a finger down her chest, he remembered. “I believe I have something of yours.”

He grasped his jacket at the foot of the bed and reached inside the pocket to withdraw the silver chain. The oval pendant dangled from his fist.

Rebecca sat up straight. “How?” she exclaimed. “I don’t understand. How did you get this back?”

He passed it to her with a shrug. “It must have been dropped once the shooting began. I saw it lying in the street when I went after a stray gun.”

She threw her arms around him. The soft brush of her breasts against his chest almost made him groan.

“You’ll never know how much I appreciate this. Thank you.” Sitting back, she examined the chain, inspecting the broken links.

“Tomorrow we can stop by a jeweler if you’d like, to get the chain fixed.”

She nodded. “Thank you.”

“May I?” he asked, extending his hand.

The cool metal coiled in his palm, and he studied the fine etching of a dove in flight on the locket’s face.

“My mother gave it to me shortly before she died.”

He opened the tiny latch that held the locket shut, and Rebecca leaned in, resting her cheek against his shoulder. “The pictures are of my parents.”

The woman in the tiny portrait shared Rebecca’s almond-shaped eyes and slender nose. “Your mother was a beautiful woman.”

Rebecca’s tone turned wistful. “It’s been so long now. Without that picture, I can hardly remember what she looked like anymore. The exact color of her hair, the shape of her smile…those unique details have faded from my mind.”

He swept his arm around her, offering what comfort he could. Snapping the locket shut, he felt an etching on the back and turned the piece over. “Give all to love,” he read.

A sad smile played about her lips. “Her last piece of advice, I suppose.” Her brow wrinkled, the grief he glimpsed in her eyes a living thing. “She loved my father so much, she gave up her life trying to give him the son he’d always wanted.”

His protective instincts welled up. She’d lived through such pain, such sorrow. And her problems only continued. He unclasped the amulet from his neck and threaded the locket onto his chain, setting the damaged one aside.

“Christopher, you don’t need to—”

He brushed her curly locks to the side and swept the silver around her throat. “I want to,” he whispered, securing the catch. His fingers lingered, caressing the silky skin at the nape of her neck. Rebecca stirred feelings in him he thought buried.

She lifted his lucky coin, running a finger over the bronze symbols. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

He wrapped his arms around her and settled her back against his chest. Rebecca relaxed, and tenderness swept over him, a protectiveness so fierce he never wanted to let her go.

Taking her hand in his, he ran his thumb over her pale skin and the white scar on her knuckle. A question formed on his tongue as his fingers smoothed over her palm, where small nicks from her scuffle marred her rough skin.
Rough skin?

He turned her hand palm up. “You’re injured,” he said, but he ignored the minor abrasions, the older callused skin capturing his attention.

“It’s nothing,” Rebecca insisted, pulling her hand away.

A lady with callused skin? His eyes trained on her faded black dress lying in a heap on the floor, still dusty from her tussle in the street. And the image of a maid Rebecca’s exact height and build flashed in his mind, a servant with brandy colored hair who’d winced from his touch due to a blister on the back of her hand. Christopher squeezed his lids tight. Damn, what had he just done?

Chapter Eight

CHRISTOPHER LOWERED HIS HEAD and massaged his temples with the heels of his hands. Dressed against the chill in the cabin, he’d been slumped at the small desk for hours, and still nothing made sense.

His eyes strayed to Rebecca, a soundless pile of bedding in the corner shadows. Last night had been incredible. He’d been so relieved she’d escaped. What followed had seemed so natural, so pure. Even now he wanted to go to her.

Tearing his eyes away from the bed, he cursed quietly. What was the matter with him? Didn’t he have any loyalty? Nathan had been a true friend.

And this was how he repaid him? He’d made love to the prime suspect in Nathan’s murder, the woman Nathan had loved.

Hell, even if he ignored all that, she’d lied to him about who she really was. What a fool. Of course she’d lied. She’d been lying since they’d met at the ball. Yet somehow it still surprised him like a slap across the face.

Some detective—he should have placed her when he first saw her.

All along, she’d been a housemaid masquerading as a lady, but to what end? Clearly, she hadn’t been Nathan’s lover, no matter what he’d believed before. Even so, he had no doubt Rebecca was involved with Nathan in some way, and until he found out how, he would let her play the heiress and see where it led him. Besides, Nathan had been right. She did need protecting. And he would stick by her side, keep her safe, for Nathan, and himself.

Rebecca stirred in the bed. “Christopher?”

The earliest wisps of sunlight peeked through the small window to chase the darkness away.

“Over here.” He rose from his seat and lit the lantern. The soft glow bathed her face, and she blinked against the light.

As he knelt beside the bed, Rebecca’s bed-ruffled hair and sleepy face tempted him. He wanted nothing more than to crawl back beneath the blankets beside her and forget the rest of the world existed.

Closing his eyes to the alluring sight, he let the slight creaking of the ship ground him. He looked at her again, determined to keep his wits. “I need to talk to you.”

Her lips curled into a languid smile, and she reached out to caress his cheek.

He swallowed hard, grasped her hand and returned it to the bed. “Tell me about last night. Who were those men?”

The smile faded. “I don’t know,” she muttered, rolling onto her back.

His stomach clenched into a tangled mass. He had a strong suspicion she knew the men. They’d spoken a little too long for some random assault.

This wasn’t going to be easy. No doubt she’d deny any connection with them, especially if it could implicate her in the murder. Regardless, he had to try.

Taking her hand in his, he sat on the edge of the bed and took a chance. “I’ll do everything in my power to protect you from them if you’ll let me.” God help him, he would, no matter her guilt or innocence.

A puzzled look touched her face. “Why do you think I’ll need further protection?”

“It seemed as though those men knew you, as if they were waiting for you.”

“As if they…how would you know if they waited for me? How long had you been there?”

“I saw you leave the Endicotts’, and I followed.”

Her eyes grew wide, accusing.

“Would you rather I hadn’t?”

“I don’t know what I want anymore.” She looked away. “Christopher, there are things you don’t know about me. Things I’m not proud of.”

His jaw clamped tight. Those weren’t the words of an innocent woman. “What kinds of things?” he ground out.

She winced. “Don’t look at me that way.”

“What do you mean? What way?”

“Like I’m a criminal.” She rubbed hand over her brow. “Sometimes people do misguided things for the most honorable of reasons.”

Excuses would do her no good. “I want to help you, but I need to know what I’m up against.” Although his offer was sincere, even to his own ears it sounded forced.

She stared up at him for several long moments then shook her head. “You shouldn’t get involved in this. You should take me home and stay away. I’ll only bring you trouble.”

He stood with a dry laugh. “I’m already involved.” There was no way he could let her go, knowing she was in danger. He paced away from her. “What if you run into those men again?”

“I’m sure that won’t happen.”

By the rustle of linen and the creak of the bed, he knew she’d risen. He didn’t turn. Instead, his gaze rode up the wall, and he willed himself not to look. The padding of feet and whisper of fabric tortured him as he resisted the overwhelming urge to carry her to bed, back into the safety of his arms.

After several minutes, impatience snaked over his skin, and he turned around. Her fingers fastened the last button of her simple black dress, reminding him of her lies. Dammit. “Talk to me.”

A sad resolve wilting her features, she stared into his eyes. “You don’t need to feel responsible for me.” She sat on the bed and slipped on her battered boots. “What happened between us last night was wonderful.” Her hands stilled, and she studied the floor. “I don’t expect anything from you, especially not after what you witnessed last night.”

He should feel relieved. Rather, her words sliced through him. “I’m glad to hear you say that,” he lied, a note of bitterness tainting his voice. “Last night should have never happened.”

Her gaze snapped back to his and a flicker of pain crossed her face. Perhaps she’d expected words of love and devotion. He couldn’t give that to her. Not now. Reality had returned.

Rising to her feet, she snatched up her cloak and headed for the door. He blocked her path. “I can’t let you go out there. How do I know you’re not still in danger?”

“Don’t concern yourself. This is my burden to bear.”

“No,” he growled, grasping her arms to prevent her from passing by. “Tell me what you’re involved in.”

She shrugged off his hands. “Leave me be,” she cried, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“I can’t.” Now more than ever, he couldn’t let her walk away.

Heaving an exhale, she glared up at him. “If you must know. My father’s a gambler. Not a very skilled one at that. He owes those men a great deal of money.” Her glare flashed with fire. “Is that what you wanted to hear? Does that sate your curiosity?”

He ignored her questions, his mind whirling this new fact around in his head. “These men. They think by kidnapping you, he’ll come forward with the payment?”

She pulled on her cloak, avoiding his eyes. “Not exactly.”

“What do you mean, not exactly?” Seizing her wrist, he demanded her full attention.

“They’ve found another way to raise the money my father owes and then some,” she admitted, her face paling to a sickly hue.

Dread tightened his skin. “Which is?”

She clenched her eyes shut and swallowed, not once but twice. “Some man has offered to pay six hundred dollars…if they kill me.”

Good God. “Who? Why?”

“I don’t know.” She tore her wrist from his grip. “I think it best if I go now.”

“What of your brother? Surely he can help.”

“I have no brother.” Stepping around him, she opened the door and hurried out.

Of course. No wonder he’d never met the man. He grabbed his jacket, blew out the lantern, and followed on her heels. “Do you have any family you can go to?”

When they reached topside, she looked back. “I’ve decided to travel back to Boston. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

Another lie. She’d been in New York all along. “Why doesn’t your father come for you? Does he know you’re in trouble? I’m sure he wouldn’t want you to travel alone.”

“He’s in hiding.” Taking a deep breath, she raised her chin. “There’s nothing he can do for me anyway. He has to concentrate on protecting himself.”

An odd comment. “What kind of father leaves his daughter to fend for herself?”

“It isn’t like that. I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time.” Her tone reflected hurt and anger. “In fact, it’s usually the other way around. He’s the one who gets into trouble, and I’m the one to help him out of it.”

Jack, the night guard, came into view, headed in their direction.

Seeing him, Rebecca blinked, her tears on the brink of flooding down her cheeks. She grasped his hand and gave it a quick squeeze. “I’d best go. Good-bye.”

When she would have pulled away, he strengthened his grip, his protective instincts rising up with a vengeance. “Let me take you home.”

The relief that flashed over her features proved she was still afraid. “All right.”

“Captain,” Jack called as he approached. “You wanted to know of any unusual visitors?”

“You’ve seen something?” Christopher scanned the deserted pier.

“Over there.” Jack pointed toward the warehouses across the street.

In an alley something moved. Or rather someone. A tall hulking man with a long mustache. Christopher recognized him immediately. Rebecca must have too. She stiffened beside him.

“We need to get out of here, now.” Grasping her hand tight, he led her to the gangplank and down to the dock. He peered past the ship, the area around them silent, save for the screeching of seagulls overhead. His only thoughts focused on her safety, he guided her around buildings and through alleyways until satisfied they’d passed by undetected.

He spotted a hack just down the street and headed in that direction. “Those men your father owes. Do you suspect they know where you’re staying?”

“I don’t think so. If they did, I would imagine they would’ve come looking for me there.” The confidence in her voice wavered by the time those words had passed her lips, and she cringed.

“What?”

Uncertainty glinted in her eyes. “A messenger delivered a note from my father, but when I asked him about it, he said he hadn’t sent one.”

The news left him with a bad taste in his mouth. “Maybe those men do know where you are then. They could have sent the message to lure you into a trap.” He awoke the driver inside the carriage, paid for their ride, and helped Rebecca climb up the step to the seats within.

The hack lurched forward, and Christopher sank into the seat beside her, his mind made up. “I’m taking you to the country. You’ll be safe there.”

Her lips parted with a sharp intake of air. “No, there’s no need,” she insisted, her color rising.

Did she really believe that to be true? “There most certainly is. You said yourself that those men may have been responsible for the note.” Perhaps she didn’t care for his prying. He could be getting too close to the truth for her comfort. So be it. This was a matter of safety. “You can’t stay. I won’t let you.”

Her eyes narrowed, and he could almost hear the gears turning in her head, her desperate need to get away. “I’m not staying. I told you I’m leaving for Boston.”

“I’ll go with you,” he offered, knowing she would do no such thing.

A “no” burst from her lips almost before he’d finished. “I…I mean, that won’t be necessary.”

The hack pulled up to the Endicotts’ house, and with a hand on her arm, Christopher aided her descent from the coach. Instead of releasing her once her foot reached the ground, he held tight. “Rebecca, let me help you.” No matter what trouble she was in, even if it involved Nathan, he couldn’t stand by and let those men find her. He didn’t want to think too much about the whys of it. He just couldn’t.

She tugged her arm from his grasp, her eyes searching his. “If you want to help…” Her teeth worried her lower lip, and her gaze dropped to her hems. She swallowed, the fine skin between her eyebrows wrinkling with her slight grimace. “Lend me… Lend me the money these men want.” She peered up at him with an earnest look. “I promise to pay you back with interest as soon as I can.”

Her request stung like a jab to the ribs. “Is that all you want from me, money?”

A rush of color pinkened her cheeks, and her attention dropped to her skirts once more. She closed her eyes and took in a breath. “Yes.” Although the word was barely audible, it blared inside his head.

How could he have forgotten? She only gave her favors to those who paid for them. He ground his teeth so hard his molars just might erode to dust. “How do I know I’d ever see you again?”

Her head jerked up, anger twisting her lips. “I think you know me better than that.”

“Do I?”

Reaching behind her, she unclasped the chain around her neck and thrust it under his nose. “Here’s my mother’s locket as collateral. You know I would never leave it behind.”

He did know, and her action surprised him to no end, draining away his resentment. He pushed the keepsake away and raked his hand through his hair, the memory of Nathan’s request for money days before his death searing his brain. No, this wasn’t the same. It didn’t matter how sincere she was, her plan would never work. “What would stop them from taking the money you offer and killing you anyway? They could be paid twice for the same job.”

With a determined set to her jaw, she held out the locket once more. “That a risk I’ll have to take. I have no other options.”

That wasn’t true, not as far as he was concerned. “Come with me, and I’ll help both you and your father. Give me time to come up with a plan.”

Her shoulders sagged, and she lowered her arm. “For your own sake, you should let me go.”

Probably true, but God help him… “I can’t.”

“You’re putting yourself at risk, and you don’t need to,” she said, as if he hadn’t understood her first warning.

“True. If you stay, I’ll be here right by your side, in harm’s way,” he agreed, hoping this new tactic would work. “But if you come with me to the country, we’ll both be safe.”

She frowned, and cocked one sleek brow. “You’re not being fair.”

“I don’t intend to be.” An idea took light. “In fact, I could just take you against your will.” He reached out in a half-hearted attempt to grab her, and she skittered away, her mouth open in shock.

“Stop. I’ll go. I’ll go.”

“Good.” He steered her toward the front door. “I’ll wait for you to pack, and then we’ll go to my home, where I can do the same.”

With a nervous glance at the entrance, she halted him mid-step, her hand settling on his chest. “There’s no reason for you to wait. You go on and get your things in order.”