The Seduction of Emily (15 page)

It should have been a scene worth painting. Yet, the reason for Will being there cast the scene in ugly gray.

The villain of the piece appeared at the steps leading to the walkway at the water’s edge below him. Will squinted and pursed his lips tightly together. Milne slowly descended, his head held high, his ever-present cane theatrically flicking outward as his booted feet touched each step.

“You pompous ass.” Will shook his head.

Milne continued to stroll along the side of the river, raising his hat to certain individuals who he deemed worthy of acknowledgment. Others were ignored, despite their genial nods. He walked with the air of a man in control, a man who had the entire world at his feet.

Will smiled.
Not for much longer, my friend.

Will pushed away from the ledge and strode along the road, keeping his gaze on Milne. Eventually, he’d have to come back up to street level. It had been almost two weeks since Will had left his rented room above a barbershop in town and moved into the Darson household. Five days since he’d kissed Emily. He wet his lips as he remembered how hers had tasted. Soft and as sweet as the freshest apricot but when her tongue had met his so eagerly . . . Will swallowed. How he’d not taken her there and then he’d never know.

Shaking his head to clear it, he forced his focus back on the man who continued to walk around thinking it was his right to marry a woman like that. Will’s gut lurched. He’d told himself over and over again since their kiss to walk away, find another avenue to pursue that would ultimately result in Milne’s ruin. To keep his distance from a woman who haunted him day and night. Yet, he could not. He refused to take the risk of leaving her open to Milne’s danger.

His attraction to her was incredible, intensified every time he entered a room with her. He would not risk Milne hurting her when he’d witnessed her gentle hands upon her father’s face time and again as she nursed him through the worst of his coughs and sweats. The woman was beautiful inside and out and, even though she would never be his, he intended to ensure she didn’t waste her life with a bastard like Milne.

He quickened his pace as Milne made his way toward the steps leading up from the riverside to street level. Forced himself to concentrate on the day’s mission: orchestrating a separation between Milne and Emily forever. The contract sealing them into this binding union involved money, but there had to be a way of getting her away from him.

Apprehension clenched like a fist around his heart. God, how he wanted to know her. All of her.

Milne emerged onto the street and stopped. Will focused his attention. Milne’s eyes narrowed as he looked about him, his nose lifted as though sniffing the air like the mongrel he was. Will moved behind a flower stall. The pretty young girl working there lifted a bucket of Queen Anne’s lace onto an overturned crate and spotted him. She looked him up and down in open appreciation. Will flashed her a smile.

Her cheeks turned rosy before her mother came up behind her and scolded her for daydreaming. Will’s smile widened when the girl smiled back at him and poked her tongue out at her mother’s turned back.

He turned. Milne was headed straight toward where Will hid. He shot back against the wall behind him, his heart beating fast. “Shit.”

Milne walked past.

Waiting a beat, Will exhaled his held breath and followed. Milne stopped every now and then to peer down his nose at a stallholder’s wares. Predictably unaware of anyone but himself. Feigning interest in an earthenware pot in a stall a few feet away, Will pulled down the brim of his hat and hunched his shoulders. After a moment, Milne moved on and after another fifty yards, entered a side street.

“Hello then, where are you off to?” Will quickened his pace.

Milne trekked farther along the street, sporadically casting furtive glances over his shoulder. On the third occasion, Milne halted, his nose lifted to the air once more. Will ducked into a doorway and pressed his back against the wood. He squeezed his eyes shut as his pulse pounded in his temple. Had Milne seen him?

He counted to five before leaning out from his hiding place. Milne had walked on, his gait now a manic trot. Will grinned. With Milne’s height and weight, but lack of physical fitness, he bore the uncanny appearance of a gibbon with a stake shoved up its backside.

He came out of the doorway. On and on Milne skulked, out of the side street and into another. Unease stirred Will’s blood. Maybe Milne knew he was behind him and thoroughly enjoyed having the upper hand.

Suddenly he came to an abrupt stop and Will hunched down behind some discarded boxes left on the curbside. His mouth drained of saliva. If Milne confronted him, Will would have no choice but to give him the short and to the point punishment he’d had in mind when he first arrived in Bath. He curled his hands into fists. Retribution was often a dirty job, but he wasn’t averse to getting his hands dirty for a good cause.

He risked a peek around the boxes. Milne was bent at the waist, catching his breath. A slow smile curved Will’s mouth. It felt good to see the bastard vulnerable. The man spent far too much time hiding behind an upper-class veneer, trying to show the world he had no weaknesses.

Milne straightened and stared in Will’s direction for a horribly long time before he stepped toward the closed door in front of him. He rapped his cane against it three times in quick succession. After a few seconds, the door opened. Neither the person at the door nor Milne spoke. He walked inside and the door slammed closed.

Will cursed. He had no way of knowing who was in there and if they were male or female, young or old. Standing, Will removed his hat and swiped a hand across his brow. His mind whirled. Milne’s financial security was dependent on his marriage to Emily. As far as Milne was concerned, the marriage would be going ahead no matter what. Which surely meant whatever or whoever had brought the son of a bitch to the seedier side of town must satisfy Milne’s other hankering. Lust.

Rage stabbed at Will’s instinct. Clearly Milne still paid for the services of prostitutes. He closed his eyes. His mother wasn’t a prostitute. He refused to see her that way. She gave her body so Will could eat fresh food and sleep in a warm bed. She was a mother.

He opened his eyes and willed his breathing to slow. If Milne left one woman beaten and bloody, it was a guarantee that he’d do it again. The image fanned Will’s motivation for revenge to fever pitch. Heat spread through his blood as he glared at the closed door. Why would a leech like Milne change just because he had one of the most wonderful women Will had ever met as his fiancée?

Bile rose in his throat as Emily’s exquisite face blurred with his mother’s swollen and bloody one. Milne had neither moral ground nor conscience. He needed to be squashed underfoot like vermin. The truth that there were more women out there beaten and left for dead roared through Will’s conscience. He should’ve tracked Milne down years ago. He should’ve gone after him no matter his mother’s protestations. He covered his face with trembling hands.

He could not lose control and risk being hanged. He’d promised his mother his neck would forever stay attached to his body and on that he would deliver. As for the promise not to avenge her beating? He’d kept his fingers crossed behind his back for that one.

Female companions willing to share their special type of company could be found at nearly every street corner in Bath. Someone with Milne’s wealth could pick and choose. Will lowered his hands and stared at the closed door. Why did Milne come here? Did this run-down, filth-ridden part of town add to the pervert’s arousal? Did the woman behind the door provide a special service?

Will fought the need to bash the door down with his bare hands. He needed to put some space between himself and Milne. At least he’d discovered one place Milne visited. It was a start.

He pushed to his feet and walked back along the street. Memories of his mother thrashed around his head like a revolving collection of macabre picture postcards. Milne would never ask or care why the women he exploited did what they did. He would never consider the hardships they suffered to have no option but to stoop to the level of taking a man’s penis inside them over and over again. The piece of shit would view them as nothing more than a means to an end.

Angry tears burned the back of Will’s throat. His mother sold herself only when she saw no other choice. Discreet, proud, clean, and softly spoken, his mother was a woman admired and respected. Even by the men who visited her. Even as a boy, confused by her visitors yet happy to have a full belly, he remembered those men spoke gently to her and kindly to him.

The noises of the busy main street interrupted Will’s reverie. Feeling tired to the marrow of his bones, he slumped to the sidewalk at the end of the street, unable to face the crowds. His blood roared in his ears and he pressed his fists to his temples to block out the shouts and cries of the street traders. The real noise—the noise scraping away at his soul—would not stop until Milne paid for what he’d done and continued to do.

Will stared back down the street toward the closed door before standing. As he battled with the decision to sprint back there and smash his way inside, the sound of a coin clinking to the ground at his feet stole his attention.

The boy standing there could have been Will fifteen years before. His jet-black hair was spiked in all directions, his clothes clean but ragged. His bright blue eyes shone with knowledge beyond his years.

“What you doing, mister?” The lad picked up the coin and flicked it into the air. He caught it deftly and enclosed it tightly in his hand. “You lost or something?”

A smile tugged Will’s lips. “I’m having a little look around. That all right with you?”

The boy grinned, his teeth showing as a white slash through his grime-covered face. “You’re thinking of paying a little visit to Laura, ain’t you?”

Will glanced toward the door. His face impassive. “Is that her name? The woman who lives in the house with the milk jugs outside?”

The boy’s smile faltered and his eyes narrowed. “You ain’t here to cause her no hassle, are you? She’s lovely is Laura.”

“’Course not.” Will stood and tugged at his jacket lapels. “Do I look like the type of gentleman who’d ever harm a lady?”

The boy looked him up and down and sniffed. “You don’t look like a gentleman.”

Will tipped his head back and laughed. The kid reminded him of himself as a boy. “You’ve got some spunk for a little one, haven’t you?”

The boy grinned. “Have to, don’t I?”

“Here.” Will reached into his pocket. He pulled out a sixpence and held it between his forefinger and thumb in front of the boy’s face. “What can you tell me about little Miss Laura in exchange for this?”

The lad eyed the coin like it was a gold nugget. “That depends on if you want to know about Laura or the halfwits who go in to see her.”

Will respected the boy’s integrity. He gave a slow nod as though considering his proposal. “Let’s start with the halfwits, shall we?”

The boy reached for the coin but Will snatched it out of reach. “Information first.”

His new friend scowled and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “What d’ya want to know?”

Will tilted his head in the direction of the mystery residence. “A man went in there not more than fifteen minutes ago. I want to know how often he’s here and how long he’s been coming to see her.”

“What did he look like? Judging by the way you’re dressed, you’ll likely be more interested in the stuck-up toff than the geezer with six little ’uns terrified of making it seven.”

Will bit back a smile. “Who’s the toff?”

He crossed his arms. “Well, now, information on someone of that stature might cost you a bit more.”

“No, it won’t.”

The boy pulled back his shoulders. “It might.”

Will forced a glare. “No, son. It won’t.”

Color flushed high on the ragamuffin’s cheeks and he uncrossed his arms and raised his palms in surrender. “Fine, fine. No need to start flexing your muscles. A kid’s got a right to try, ain’t he?” He glanced down the street. “He’s here every month around this time. He likes Laura, but if she brings a mate in to cover for her, he takes one of them. He ain’t fussy.”

Will followed his gaze. “How long has this been going on?”

“About a year, on and off, I reckon.”

“He’s only here once a month?”

“Yeah, I’m guessing it’s when his posh whore’s got the ladies’ monthly and he don’t want that on his whatsit.”

Will snapped his head around. “His posh whore?”

The boy’s eyes gleamed. “Ah, you didn’t know he had two on the go? If you want to know more, I’m going to have to insist—”

Will tossed him the sixpence. The kid caught it without blinking. Will drew out a second one and held it up. “It’s yours if I like what you say.”

The boy grinned. “Oh, you’ll like it, all right.”

Will’s blood pumped faster through his veins.

The boy sniffed and ran the sleeve of his torn jacket under his nose. “He’s got a mistress he keeps in her finery up on Milsom Street. People say she’s been servicing him since he was a teenager. Bit sick if you ask me. He’s stupid over her. Not in love or anything but he’s got a nasty reputation for wanting things that are his to stay his, if you know what I mean. So rather than let her go, he set her up for his exclusive pleasure.”

“He’s known this woman since he was young?” Emily came into Will’s mind. She said she and Nicholas had known each other since childhood. Did she know the woman he kept as his mistress? Did she know he had a mistress? His stomach lurched with revulsion. How could Milne want any other woman than her?

“Oh, yeah. She works in the milliner’s. Keeps her reputation decent. Load of crap, ain’t it?”

“She’s part of his social set?”

“To a point. Her wealth don’t stretch to that of him and his fiancée, but it means—”

“Wait. You know about his fiancée?”

He laughed. “God, yeah. She’s the most beautiful woman you’ll ever see.” He gave a wolf whistle through his teeth. “She has masses of thick black hair. I bet it reaches to her waist when it ain’t all pinned and fussed with. And her body? Man, what I wouldn’t give to be left alone with her for an hour.”