Heart of Iron (14 page)

Mr. Mandeville’s head shot up. “That’s not possible,” he said aloud.

With an angry shake of the head, she picked up the pen.
Then I want nothing more to do with this. I won’t be privy to acts that might be killing innocent people. There were guards at those factories. Human guards. I want to talk to someone who knows what is in those letters.

Mr. Mandeville stared at her, his lips thinned. “I’ll pass word along regarding the commission. It shall be up to his discretion to meet with you.” Pursing his lips, he held the letter up. “
Will
you
take
it?
” he mouthed.

Lena stared at it. So innocuous. Just a single piece of parchment. Slowly she reached out and accepted it, tucking it in her bodice. Nobody would find it there.
This once,
she wrote. “Thank you. I’ll begin work on the transformational.” Leaning down, she wrote,
I want to meet with Mercury.

Mr. Mandeville nodded shortly. “I’ll see what I can arrange.” He let her get almost to the door before he added, “It was good to meet the source of your inspiration, Lena. But I would urge caution. The blue bloods aren’t the only danger to a young woman these days.”

Her cheeks heated. “I know what I’m doing, thank you, Mr. Mandeville.”

“Aye. I suppose you think you do.”

***

Will strode into the warren with his hands shoved into his pockets. If he had them free he thought he just might throttle her. Two seconds more and she would have fallen, crushed beneath the iron hooves of the Trojan cavalry. Cold caught in his chest. A horrible breathless feeling he didn’t recognize. Best not to think of it.

Behind him the footman helped the fat old lady as she huffed and complained up the stairs. Lena suggested quietly that Henry take Mrs. Wade to the kitchen for a good, stiffening drink. From the sounds of the gibberish she’d been uttering for the last half hour, Will suspected she might need most of the bottle.

“Well,” Lena sighed, standing beside him at the top of the stairs and watching her companion being led away. “At least she waited until after the mayhem to succumb to hysteria.”

The delicious scent of her soap rose off her warm skin. If only she’d use something else for once. He’d come to associate that smell with Lena and even a hint of it in the air made his cock rouse.

Her skirts brushed his shins as she peered down the hallway. “Where would you like to begin the lesson? Blade’s parlor?”

The ground floor of the warren was a mess of dust and cobwebs, with creaking floorboards and peeling wallpaper. There was nothing to see down here. Nothing of any value. A deterrent to thieves and anyone who might be reporting back to the Echelon. Upstairs, however, was an entirely different abode. Luxurious carpets and fine paintings, the scent of beeswax in the air and most of the rooms warmed with ornate fireplaces. Very few people were trusted enough to see the upstairs section.

Will nodded gruffly. “It’ll do.”

“I’ll fetch some tea and cakes.” She gave him a look. “Are you hungry?”

He was always hungry. The anger and fear in him only burned through more of his body’s fuel. “Aye.”

“I’ll bring something of more substance then.”

As she sashayed toward the kitchen, he opened the parlor door. Cool air brushed against his face. The fires hadn’t been lit for some time. Blade preferred to sit in Honoria’s laboratory upstairs these days.

The cold barely affected him, but Lena liked to sit in front of a good, toasty fire. In various ways she was rather catlike. He’d watched her curl up on the rug many a time, tinkering with the pieces of a broken clock. The inner workings of such gadgets were beyond him, but Lena managed to fit them together as if they were naught more than a child’s puzzle.

By the time he had a healthy blaze crackling in the hearth she’d returned. He heard the swish of skirts from down the hall, and the scent of hot roast beef filled the air. Saliva flooded his mouth and he intercepted her at the door, his gaze intent on the heavy tray in her hands.

“Here,” he muttered, taking it from her.

Lena’s gaze strayed to the fire. She crossed to it, holding out her pale hands. “Mrs. Wade is recovering. She claims she’ll be along in a moment.” A wry twist of the lips. “I don’t think she trusts you alone with my maidenly sensibilities.”

Warmth crinkled the edges of her eyes. Will slowly put the tray on a small reading table. A smarter woman than he’d given her credit for, Mrs. Wade.

“Are you hungry?” he asked. The scent of beef drew him to the tray. Will lifted the lid and examined the plate. Esme’s roasted beef with gallons of gravy and thick bread and drippings.

“Not particularly.”

He balanced the plate on his lap and ate with relish. Far better fare than he was used to these days.

Lena took her seat opposite him, sweeping her skirts to the side. She poured them both tea then fetched a plate of spice cake for herself. Though her soft hum mingled with the comforting chink of silverware, a hint of tension rode the air, heavy as silence. Lena’s lashes fluttered against her cheeks as she stole a glance at him, then looked swiftly away.

It had been like this for a year. Ever since that day she’d crawled onto his lap, fluttered her lashes at him, and then pressed her lips against his.

Right there, on that bloody sofa beside them.

He glared at the embroidered cushions. His first kiss and it had been a bloody fiasco from start to finish. Once the shock of it had pierced his brain, he hadn’t been able to get away fast enough. Her lips, like silk against his, wet and lush. Then the dart of her tongue as she licked at him, daring him to kiss her back. Somehow his fist had clenched in her skirts. The other hand was half-lifted, about to capture the back of her neck and tug her closer before he even realized what was happening.

Then he was on his feet, Lena tumbling back onto the cushions, her eyes wide and startled and her green skirts spilling around her. A glimpse of her ankles, the stockinged calves tempting him to explore further. Little hammer-strikes of vision flashing at him. Moments of movement where he wasn’t even aware of having done it.

Dangerous. He’d only ever lost control—lost time—once. That she could do it to him so easily frightened him more than an entire army of metaljackets.

If he lost control, if he hurt her, if he infected her…he’d never forgive himself.

“First lesson,” she said, her soft voice intruding into his thoughts, “is that a gentleman doesn’t stare at a lady quite so…so boldly.”

Heat spilled through her cheeks as his vision came into focus. He
had
been staring at her. Like a desperate fool. Remembering that kiss. Remembering the taste of her mouth.

Looking down, he stabbed a piece of beef with his fork. “How’s your friend?” he asked. “The blond girl.”

Lena broke off a tiny piece of cake with her fork. “Adele? I called on her this morning. Her parents have put about word that’s she’s taken ill—at least until the mark fades.”

A blue blood’s saliva hastened the healing process, but he’d seen enough scars in his time to know they didn’t always vanish completely. Indeed, if he weren’t verwulfen, his own throat would look like a train track.

“D’you think it will?”

“I took her some salve. Something Leo uses for his thralls.” Fidgeting with her fork, she asked, “Do you think Cavendish will keep his mouth shut?”

“He will if he wants to keep breathin’.”

“You can’t simply go around threatening blue bloods, Will. It might work here in the rookery, but you’ll be in their world and you must learn to play by their rules.”

“Tell me you didn’t enjoy it.” He put his empty plate aside and leaned back in his chair, sinking into the soft upholstery.

“That’s beside the point. Of course I enjoyed seeing him get his just deserts. The man’s a bully and a toady. He ambushes young women in secluded corners and forces himself on them. There’s no ruin to him or his reputation.” Her face darkened. “Only to us.”

“
Us?
”

Lena’s cheeks paled. “A poor choice of words. I meant the young women of the Echelon. He’s never made any overt threat against me before.”

“But if he does, you’ll tell me?”

Lena looked him directly in the eye. And lied. “Of course.”

“Lena,” he warned, finding his feet.

She fetched her teacup and nervously put it between them. “I’m not the one he’ll retaliate against. You made a fool of him last night, Will. He won’t forget that. Promise me you’ll be careful.”

Leaning down, he rested his hands on the armrest on either side of her. Lena’s lips firmed and she rested her teacup in her lap.

“You ain’t goin’ to distract me,” he said, reaching out and capturing her chin between thumb and forefinger.

A mistake. Lena’s skin was silky soft, and the slight parting of her lips as she looked up nearly undid him. Her eyes softened, the breath catching in her lungs. For all her devil-may-care attitude, in that moment her expression was oddly guileless. Hesitant. Uncertain of herself.

The hint of vulnerability nearly undid him.

Will jerked his hand back as if scalded and turned away, the breath in him coming hard. “If he threatens you, you’ll tell me?”

Lena’s gaze dropped to her lap. “Of course.”

What the devil was wrong with her now? “You ain’t afraid of him?”

“I can handle men like Cavendish.” Putting the teacup aside, she muttered, “It’s certain other ones that give me a headache.”

“Colchester?”

“No.” A frown drew her eyebrows together. “Why would you mention him?”

“He scares you,” Will admitted, his voice lowering. “Do you want me to kill him for you?”

She surged to her feet. “Are you
insane
? He’s a duke! Even if you could get to him, the Echelon would destroy you.” Those wide brown eyes met his and then she grabbed his wrist. “Will, promise you won’t do anything of the sort! Promise you won’t go after Colchester.”

The scent of fear was back. But this time she wasn’t afraid for herself.

Will rubbed at the back of his neck, eyeing her hand warily. Nobody had ever given a damn about him before. Apart from Blade. “I don’t let nobody touch what’s mine.”

“I can handle Colchester,” she stressed.

The tiny hint of doubt in her voice made his hackles rise. “How? By smilin’? By flirtin’?”

“By playing the game! By hiding in plain sight and not letting him get me alone.”

“Aye, and what’ll you do if he
does
get you alone?”

She had nothing to say to that.

Will drew her up against him. “Well?”

“There are…ways.” Her hands rested against his abdomen, trying to restrain him. “Let me go, Will. This is unseemly.”

“What kind o’ ‘ways’?”

Lena glared at him. “I submit. All he wants is blood. It costs me nothing. He can’t afford to take too much and have me die. I’m not…not just some poor, unprotected coal lass.”

The words pierced him like a knife. White-hot fury seared his brain, the world narrowing in around him until all he saw was Lena’s frightened face. “Like hell you will.”

Lena flinched as his hands tightened unconsciously. “Stop it, Will. Let me go!”

A gasp from the doorway caught his attention. Mrs. Wade stood there, her black skirts enveloping her like the sail from a ship. “I leave you alone for five minutes and this is what happens! Sir, you will remove your hands at once.”

He hadn’t even heard her coming.

Whatever expression was on his face, Lena whispered, “Don’t you dare.”

Her expression turned mulish, completely unafraid of him. It was that that earned Mrs. Wade a reprieve. Few people ever saw a man when they looked at him. Only a monster. He couldn’t sully his image in Lena’s eyes. Couldn’t act like the beast the world thought him.

Eyes shuttering, he opened his hands and she stepped back with a sharp little intake of breath, rubbing at her arms.

Will caught her skirt, leaned close. He wasn’t finished by half. “If he makes so much as a single move in your direction I’ll kill him, Lena. I’ll bury ’im so deep, won’t nobody ever find ’im. So either you find a way to stop him. Or I will.”

Ten

Five days later, Lena popped a cherry in her mouth and nibbled on it, watching as Will paced the room. He’d spent the morning being fitted for a new wardrobe with Leo. Though she was in charge of introducing him to the Echelon, there were some events she wasn’t allowed to oversee.

A pity, she thought, running her gaze across his broad shoulders.

“Back straight,” she called, as she lounged on the daybed in Leo’s sitting room. “Do try and walk as if you’re out for a stroll, rather than stalking some footpad through the alleys.”

She couldn’t deny his grace of movement was appealing, but there was something dangerous about the way he moved. Even when he was still, he looked ready to pounce.

Will shot her a dark look. “I ain’t gonna mince around like one of them puff-shirted vultures. No matter how many times you make me do this.”

Lena sat up. This was the fourth lesson they’d had and he was fighting her at every turn. The problem wasn’t that he couldn’t do this; the problem was that he didn’t give a damn about the rules of etiquette. “Once more,” she said, daring him to disobey.

Will crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t see the point.”

“You never do. The point is that I told you to do it. And you agreed to obey me. I know this world. You don’t. And right now, you look like some rookery bruiser prepared to smash someone’s head in.”

Visibly grinding his teeth together, he turned and stalked back toward the window.

Lena clapped a hand to her eyes, restraining herself from a sigh. This was going to be a long afternoon. “Tell me, how many sources of power are there in the Echelon?”

“The Council o’ Dukes make all the decisions.”

“And who sits on the Council?”

“The seven heads o’ the great Houses and the prince consort.”

“Who can overrule their vote?”

“Technic’ly the queen, through Right of Regency,” he retorted, turning on his heel with a flourish that almost reminded her of Blade. “Though she speaks with the prince consort’s voice.”