Regency: Rakes & Reputations (Mills & Boon M&B) (11 page)

Gin?
This
was gin? Dreadful! How could anyone drink it? She coughed and took another swallow to force the first down. Her eyes watered and she wiped them with the back of her sleeve.

When she looked up again, she was startled to see that attention was again focused on her. Too late, she remembered to keep her head down. The brown shawl she’d kept over her
head had fallen back when she coughed and she hurried to pull it back into place.

An argument erupted at the back table and Gina froze. She knew that voice now. And she could never forget the inflection of his voice when he swore. James Hunter. But what was he doing here? Looking for Mr. Henley?

She pulled the shawl even lower over her head, took another swallow of the gin and stood. She had to get out of there before she was recognized. Three steps and she was out the door, scarcely pausing to catch her breath. The fog had thickened and disoriented her, but she turned in the direction she thought they’d come and took several steps.

A hand seized her elbow and spun her around. “Good God! It
is
you! What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?”

Ned appeared out of the fog, his eyes wide and his mouth gaping. She waved him off quickly, knowing that, no matter how angry Jamie might be, he would not harm her. The boy disappeared into the fog before James noticed him.

To make matters worse, Charles was fast behind James, a look of pure astonishment on his face. “Miss Eugenia! How…What possessed you to …”

James turned her toward Whitechapel Street and took long strides in that direction, pushing her roughly ahead of him, as if he were afraid she’d bolt if he didn’t keep her within sight every second. Rightly so.

“Charlie, run ahead and signal a coach. I’m taking Miss Eugenia home.”

Charles disappeared into the fog without further questions.

“You had better have a remarkable explanation for this, Eugenia. Apart from your reputation, you have risked life and limb coming to this part of town at night. Night? Hell, any time of day.”

“I…I …” But she couldn’t answer. She was so breathless
from the pace he set that she could not say two words together.

“I cannot even imagine what your mother and Andrew will say when we tell them how out of hand you’ve become.”

“No! You cannot!”

“Oh, can I not? I rather think I can, Eugenia. In fact, I consider it to be my moral obligation to you and my duty to your family.”

“Moral obligation to me? And where, pray tell, was that mere days ago in Vauxhall Gardens?”

James shot her a dark look but pressed his lips together as they arrived on the wide High Street. Charlie had summoned a passing coach and the door was flung open, waiting for them. James wasted no time lifting her and placing her on the seat.

He turned back to his brother. “I will catch up to you at the Crown, Charlie.” He turned to her again, climbed into the coach and called her address to the driver.

Alone in the dark interior, Gina could only stare at James, sitting across from her and regarding her with such fury that she couldn’t think what to say. Was there no way to appease him?

He crossed his arms over his chest and stretched his long legs out in front of him. “Well, Eugenia?”

It occurred to her that he really had no rights where she was concerned, and decided to take that position with him. “I must say that I resent your high-handed treatment, sir.”

He laughed, though she could detect no humor there. “High-handed? Well, take a good look, Eugenia. What you see is me acting with all the restraint I can muster. But if you’d like to see high-handed, I’d be only too happy to oblige.”

She mirrored his action and crossed her own arms over her chest. “Furthermore, you will say nothing to your brother or my mother. Do you understand?”

“Me? Understand?” A look of astonishment passed over his face. “You cannot seriously think you will get away with this?”

“Oh, I shall. Have no doubt of that.”

“You are mad to challenge me, Eugenia. I am not in my usual accommodating state of mind.”

“Accommodating?” She sniffed. “All I have ever heard from you is ‘no.’ I cannot think of a single time you have accommodated me. From our mock of a courtship to…to …”

“I accommodated you when you confessed that you were going into society with the express purpose of asking questions and trying to ferret out Cyril Henley. I have kept my mouth shut and allowed your little subterfuge, and where has it got me? Here! Finding you in a Whitechapel gin house dressed like a…a …” He gestured at her woolen dress and shabby shawl.

“Servant?” she supplied.

“I was going to say a washerwoman, but if you bared a bit of breast—”

Her cheeks burned at that comparison and she glared at him. “I imagine that is a subject about which you know a great deal.”

He was suddenly on the seat beside her, turning her face to his and bending close. “I have never purchased the services of a common whore, Eugenia.”

E
ugenia drove him to such extremes that he could scarcely comprehend his own reactions. Had it been any other woman, he would have walked away. Hell, any other woman and he would have left her in that tavern to fend for herself. But Eugenia? He looked into her eyes and saw not fear or confusion, but anger and a heavy dose of desperation.

He released her chin and leaned back against the squabs. “What is it you are not telling me, Eugenia?”

Her sigh nearly made him relent. “I do not know what you are asking.”

“Why? Why must you push yourself to such lengths? What drives you to such foolhardy endeavors? I think you are bent on self-destruction, and I do not know how to stop you.”

She dropped her gaze to her hands, twisting the gray woolen fabric of her dress. “You cannot stop me, James. It would be better for us both if you would stop trying.”

“You know we will catch Henley eventually. You know Cora’s death was avenged that night when Daschel was killed in the catacombs beneath the chapel. And yet you press on
with an almost crazed determination—against all good sense, against all reasonable care for your safety. There has to be more that drives you. What is it, Eugenia? Why can you not leave this to me? “

For the first time, he saw a flash of fear in Eugenia’s eyes and he recalled the night at Vauxhall Gardens, when she’d hinted that it was already too late to save her. “Answers,” she said so softly he barely heard her above the rattle of wheels and harness.

“To what?”

“That night. That night in the catacombs.”

“You know the answers. You know who killed Cora, and who kidnapped you. If you are looking for an answer to why…well, there is no answer to that but for the darkness in some men’s souls.”

“I cannot go on without the answers. There is no future for me without them.”

“Gina—”

“My entire life hinges on the answers, and there
is
no life without them.”

A tiny seed of doubt began to take root. Had Eugenia told them everything that happened that night? Had they left any question unasked? Any truth untold? Or, God help her, had she lied? Had she been more involved with the Brotherhood than she’d admitted? Had she lied about what happened?

He gripped her shoulders and forced her to look into his eyes. “What have you withheld, Eugenia?”

Those glorious dark eyes welled with unspilled tears. “That I do not know.”

“What, damn it?”

“What happened to me. I cannot remember most of it. Mr. Henley gave me opium, and my mind is a blur.”

“But…what can you recall?”

“Nothing until the ritual, when I was lying upon that altar.
I remember Mr. Henley bending over me, and I thought he was going to…to …”

“He was. But I still—”

“And then you covered me and carried me from the altar. Someone asked me later if I was unharmed. Bella, I think. And I told her yes. But the truth is, I cannot remember. Only hurting. Aching in all my muscles. And my head pounding.” The waiting tears began to trickle down her cheeks.

“You do not know if you were unharmed? But here you are, Eugenia, whole and well.”

“Not that….”

Jamie groaned as understanding dawned on him. “You think that…things…might have been done to you while you were unconscious.”

She nodded and he realized she was holding on to her composure by a slim thread.

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

The anger was back, refining her grief and uncertainty. “And have everyone look at me with pity? Have Mama shut me away in a spinster’s room? Listen to whispers behind my back? I couldn’t bear that.”

“But what did you mean to do? Find Henley and simply ask him?”

“Yes! What other course do I have? Yes, I want him to tell me the truth—everything about those lost hours.”

“Good God! And you think he’d actually tell you the truth? Don’t be naive, Eugenia. He’d lie just to see the pain on your face. Hell, he’d lie on principle.”

“What other choice do I have? Who else can answer that question? How can I ever build a future or a family without knowing if…if …”

He wanted to feel compassion for her, but all he felt was anger that she’d endangered herself for such an inconsequential thing. “What earthly difference does it make? I’d venture
to say that a good portion of brides are not virgin on their wedding night.”

Her eyes widened and she regarded him with astonishment. “
I
must know! Before I could marry, my husband has a right to know if I am whole.”

He was still gripping her shoulders and he shook her roughly, as if that would rattle some sense into her muddled thinking. “Any man who loves you would take you as you are, without questions or guarantees. Any man who wouldn’t is not worth your consideration.”

“I cannot bear that I have lost that part of my life. I cannot tolerate the thought that I could go through life never knowing.”

God help him, he could think of nothing to persuade her, nothing to comfort her, but to kiss her. To show her what his words could never say without disgusting her. He lowered his lips to hers, cherishing the salt of her tears mingling with the gin she’d had at the Cat’s Paw—a potent brew, drawing up his suppressed longing, his denied needs.

Fear that he was taking advantage of her vulnerable state made him lift his head to mutter an apology, but she raised her arms to circle his neck and offered those rosy petals again.

“Yes,” she whispered in a longing sigh. “Yes, Jamie.”

It would have taken a stronger man than he to refuse that invitation. He deepened the kiss. And she did. Her heat, her taste, the sweetly innocent way she met his tongue, swept him into a tide of desire.

He moved his hand to her breast and she moaned deep in her throat. Even through the rough woolen dress, he could feel the taut bud of her breast against his palm. Now the moan was his.

This was madness. Insanity. He pulled away again. “Gina, you cannot mean—”

“Don’t stop, Jamie. Not this time.”

But the coach lurched as it drew up at the end of the street. Her eyes cleared as if she’d been sleeping and she seized the handle of the door. “Do not tell my family, Jamie. I beg you.”

And she was gone, running up the steps and disappearing through the door. He sat there for a moment, waiting until he saw a light in an upper window. Pray she was safe for the night. Until he could decide what to do next.

Charlie was waiting for him at the Crown and Bear. He’d already claimed a back table and had a bottle of Devlin’s private stock and two glasses. And God knew, Jamie needed a drink.

“Still no trace of the Gibbons brothers,” he reported as Jamie sat down.

“Blast! Where can they have gotten to?”

“Just know where they’re not. Not at the Cat’s Paw, and not finagling free ale here,” Charlie stated the obvious.

“I need to talk to them. I’d swear Henley killed Metcalfe and stole his costume to assault Miss O’Rourke, but there is always the possibility that he paid to have it done. Old Cox is dead and there’s been an attempt on my life. I’d wager a fortune that there will be others. If anyone knows anything about it, I’d guess it would be Dick Gibbons.”

“Aye,” Charlie agreed. “If he’s not behind it, he’ll know who is. But I’m of a mind that we should simply put that vermin out of the way.”

“Kill them?”

“Assassinate,” Charlie corrected. “Though
exterminate
might be more fit for the Gibbons clan. Some men are in need of dying. They tried to kill you, and tonight after I put you and Bella in the coach, someone took a shot at me. Two someones, by the sound of the footsteps. It’s a coward’s
method, and neither Gibbons would risk a direct attack on anyone remotely their size.”

Jamie quickly looked Charlie over, reassuring himself of his brother’s well being. “One shot?”

“Cowards. Had they stopped to reload, I’d have been on them.”

There’d only been one shot the night he’d been attacked. Had he pursued the shooter, likely the brothers would have been waiting at the end of the blind alley armed to the teeth.

He suspected the idea to eliminate the Gibbons brothers had come from Marcus Wycliffe, but he knew his brother was not above such a thing. “The flaw in your plan to improve London by eliminating Dick and Artie is that we’d never get the truth from them then. But I must say I admire that you are not hindered by such lofty principles as proof. If you know in your gut that someone has tried to kill you, that is enough for you.”

Charlie laughed. “Aye, well, we cannot all fit on that small patch of high moral ground you stand on, Jamie.”

“Not so high, Charlie. I’d kill Henley if I could lay hands on him,” he admitted.

Charlie sighed and sat back in his chair. “I am sick to death of that subject. Just for a moment, could we talk about more pleasant things? Miss O’Rourke, for instance?”

“She is safely home, if that is what you are asking.”

“Only half of what I am asking. The other half is what the hell she was doing in a cesspit like the Cat’s Paw.”

“Looking for Henley, or for information about him.”

“Good God,” Charlie muttered under his breath. Then, “You put an end to that, did you not?”

“I thought I’d put an end to it a week ago. Since then, we’d reached a compromise. I’d keep an eye on her, and she’d confine her inquiries to the ton—mothers, sisters, friends of
the bastard. Then I’d escort her home to be certain she was safely tucked up for the night.

“Now she had found herself a guide to London’s underbelly. She thinks I did not see that boy waiting for her in the shadows, but I simply did not have time to deal with him tonight. But I will. Believe me, I will. Meantime, you can see how well our agreement worked?”

“Exceedingly.” Grinning, Charlie leaned forward and placed his forearms on the table in an attitude of confidentiality. “Which confirms my suspicion.”

Certain he’d regret it, he asked anyway. “What suspicion?”

“That Miss Eugenia is a match for you. Though you have most of the eligible heiresses of the ton eating from your hand, she resists your charms and you cannot abide that. I collect it is more than a matter of pride. More than a matter of protecting our brother’s sister-in-law. You care for her, do you not? “

“Charlie, do not tweak me with this. I am not in a mood to indulge you.”

“I would not mention it now but that she is part of our family. You would not dally with her, would you? “

Dally? No. He suspected it was rather more than that. “If you are asking if I am trying to seduce Eugenia, I am not.”

“You’ve always kept your dalliances within the demimonde. Very discreet of you. Very safe. But I thought I saw something different happening with Miss Eugenia. Something a bit more dangerous.”

“Dangerous? What the hell are you talking about, Charlie. How could she be a danger to me?”

“You’ve only been with women you could never love, Jamie. The demimonde, courtesans, mistresses. The moment some likely miss gets close, you back away. Our little Suzette
is an excellent example. Did she ask too much? Surely she did not suggest marriage?”

He shook his head. “Suzette is too wise for that. But I sensed that she was growing rather fonder of me than she should. In her profession—and mine—close attachments are not a good idea.”

“Your profession has nothing to do with it.”

Jamie tossed down the rest of his drink and started to stand. His bed was calling. The last thing he needed on a night like this was a lecture from his younger brother.

“You need a good woman, Jamie.”

“I’ve had a good woman. Several, in fact. Some were good. Some were
very
good. And some were…well, downright—”

“Enough, then. But be warned—Eugenia is different than your usual interests. She is not adept at the little games that so amuse our set. Despite her foolhardiness tonight, she is too vulnerable to trifle with.”

He settled back in his chair. There was nothing trifling about Eugenia, and he suspected Charlie was right—Jamie was acutely aware of her vulnerability. He felt differently about her than he had any other woman. Stronger. More…possessive? And he had more than a passing desire for her.

Charlie downed the remainder of his glass and lowered his voice as he continued. “I’ve watched you my whole life, Jamie. You’ve always kept yourself removed from close attachments and safe from disappointments and rejection. For whatever reason, you set your course for bachelorhood long ago. If you cannot offer her more, leave Miss Eugenia alone. She deserves better.”

She did. He’d known that from the beginning, but he’d returned time and time again, craving her smile, the softness of her voice, the feel of her in his arms. He wished, now, that he’d left Charlie or Devlin to sweep her from that altar. Had
he never known the feel of her in his arms, her sweet smell, her sighs, it wouldn’t trouble him so much now.

A few more days. Surely he could endure a few more days.

“She should be safe enough from me. They will be leaving London quite soon anyway. Her mother has crates already packed. And, with a bit of luck, we shall find Henley and deal with him, hence there will be nothing left to throw us together.”

Charlie nodded his understanding. “I think that is best for our families. An unfortunate affair would make gatherings quite awkward.”

Jamie reached for the bottle. On his way home moments ago, he now felt like getting quietly, blissfully drunk.

Sitting between Hortense and Harriett, Gina trained her eyes on the stage where actors were posturing as they said their lines, but her mind whirled with the events of last night. If she were to be honest, she was relieved James had found her at that tawdry little gin house. She’d felt conspicuous and terrified. And she wouldn’t have known what to do if someone had talked to her. Had Ned really thought she’d hear something about Mr. Henley there?

By their very presence at the same establishment, James and Charles Hunter had confirmed that they were on the same track, so she hadn’t really been needed there. She shivered.

“Are you cold, Gina?” Harriett whispered, leaning closer.

“I just felt a little breeze on the back of my neck.” As if the Devil had walked across her grave.