Seduce Me (33 page)

“You have to keep still,” the Raven said, his mouth pressed against her cheek. “Though I can see why my nephew favors you
so much. Plump in all the right places and just enough fight to make things interesting.”

Fielding was going to have to shoot; he had no other choice. Anger surged through Fielding as he aimed for the Raven’s shoulder
and pulled the trigger. Surprise etched across the man’s features as the bullet hit its mark and blood spattered the wall
behind them.

Esme screamed and pulled away from the Raven, quickly making her way to Fielding’s side.

The Raven turned and ran as best he could while clutching his shoulder.

Fielding grabbed Esme and together they ran after the Raven.

“We still need the key,” Esme said.

“We’ll get him,” Fielding said.

They followed the Raven’s bloody trail down the hallway, then up the flight of stairs and across the battlement to another
tower. The wind howled around them, and Fielding caught a flash of the Raven’s black cape as he rounded a corner.

“He’s getting away,” Esme cried.

Fielding sprinted after the Raven and followed the madman’s leap to the top of the tower wall. The Raven stopped, looking
down at the Thames far below them. There was nowhere else for him to run. Fielding had him trapped.

“Come to finish me off, have you?” The Raven’s voice was gravelly with pain.

“I just want the key.”

With his good arm, the Raven reached into his shirt collar and withdrew the necklace. “I want the box.”

“You have nothing left to bargain with. You’re losing blood,” Fielding said. “But we can still get you to a doctor; they can
remove the bullet and you’d survive.”

He reached out for the necklace at the same moment the Raven looked over his shoulder at the water below.

“David, don’t,” Fielding said.

The Raven’s face tightened. He inched his feet back. “That’s Traitor’s Gate below,” he growled. “Fitting, I suppose.”

Fielding closed the distance between him and the wall and grabbed the Raven’s shirt. “Get down.”

But the man wouldn’t budge.

“David,” Fielding said. “I know the truth. I know you’re my father.” Fielding knew Esme was behind him, knew she’d hear the
truth, but none of that mattered.

The Raven’s features softened and he almost smiled. “Beatrice finally told you.” It was not a question. And for a moment it
looked as if the man might climb down, but then his foot slipped. “It’s too late.”

Fielding reached up and put his hand around Esme’s pendant right as the Raven pushed off the wall. The necklace broke off
in Fielding’s hand.

“David!” Fielding yelled.

He looked over the edge in time to see the splash below. Esme ran to his side and peered over the wall into the river. Still
he saw nothing. He pushed himself away from the wall.

“Fielding, look,” she said, pointing to the splashing in the middle of the river. The splashing settled into a rhythm and
became strokes as the Raven swam to the opposite bank. “He made it,” Esme whispered.

Fielding turned to her. “I know you heard everything. And I wanted to tell you.” He sighed. “I didn’t know how—”

“You were afraid I’d believe you to be the same as the Raven.”

“I am,” he said. “I’m his son; his blood is my blood.”

She shook her head. “That doesn’t matter. You are nothing like him. You are kind and gentle and brave. Family only determines
where we come from; it doesn’t mandate who we become.”

And in that moment, he knew she truly loved him.

“Are you all right?” he asked, gripping both her arms.

“I think so,” Esme said.

He looked up at the sky. The moon was only partially covered. “We don’t have much time.”

Fielding took her hand, and together they ran until they reached Max and the rest of the men.

They’d taken the liberty of notifying the police, and several officers were just coming out of the Jewel House.

“The jewels were put back in their appropriate place,” the lead investigator said. He held his hand out to Max. “Your country
thanks you.”

Max shook his hand. “I’m afraid I’m not the one to thank.” He nodded toward Fielding.

“No time,” Fielding said as he dragged Esme over to where Graeme still held Waters prisoner.

Fielding pressed the key into Esme’s hand, then held the box out for her. With shaking hands, she pressed the key to the engraving.
The box opened and her bracelet immediately fell to the ground. Fielding’s and the one from Thatcher’s hand also dropped.

“I’ve got this one,” Graeme said.

Fielding grabbed Esme and pulled her tightly into his arms. “We did it,” he whispered.

She leaned into him and exhaled. “I didn’t think I was going to survive.”

“I told you I’d make certain you did,” Fielding said.

“Yes, you did.” She smiled.

Max bent to pick up the band that had fallen at Esme’s feet. “Hope,” he said. He smiled at Esme. “That seems fitting for you.”

Her head snapped up. “What?”

“Your bracelet—the engraving.” He pointed to the word scrawled across the gold band. “This says ‘hope.’ ”

“But that’s impossible,” she said, shaking her head.

“I thought you said it was lust,” Fielding said, then he handed the other three bands to Max. “And these?”

Max looked down at them. “Lust, greed, and disease,” he read.

“All this time,” Fielding said, shaking his head. “You can read ancient Greek?” he asked Max.

“Atlantis,” Max said with a smile. “Greek is a necessity if you want to read about the lost continent. Well, at least some
think it’s lost. I happen to believe…”

“Ahem.” Graeme cleared his throat with a gravelly cough. “I think the lady’s more interested in her bracelet.”

Max looked sheepish as he ducked his head to once again inspect the bands. “Ah, yes… I can see how you might have misinterpreted
the engraving.” He lined up two of the bands and handed them to Esme. “See how similar the two words are?” He pointed to the
third letter of each word. “If you mistake this theta for an omicron and this psi”—he pointed to another letter—“for an upsilon,
both perfectly natural mistakes… and of course they both come from the same root word. For what is hope, but desire in its
purest form?”

C
ome,” Max said. “Everyone is waiting for you.”

“Where are we going now?” Esme asked. Fielding still had his arm wrapped securely around her shoulders. “I’m rather tired.”

“I’m certain you are,” Max said. “But there is some last-minute business to attend to. At Solomon’s.” He winked at her.

“Solomon’s? Truly?” She took a cleansing breath; Fielding guessed it was an effort to settle her nerves. “Do you suppose they’ll
let me in?” Then she looked down and clearly remembered what he had done to her dress. She tugged on the bodice, trying to
pull it back into a more modest position.

“Here.” Fielding took off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. “I won’t go in without you.”

With three Solomon’s members among them, they had no problem gaining entrance. They were immediately led back into that same
meeting room. Fielding held tightly to Esme’s hand. She looked so small wrapped in his greatcoat, but despite her ordeal,
her eyes were bright with curiosity.

The room was full of men and roared with noise until they stepped inside, then everything fell quiet.

“Mr. Grey.” Jensen rose to his feet. “And Miss Worthington. We are pleased to see you both.”

The other men around the table said nothing, just eyed them as they entered the room.

“Please, sit,” Jensen said.

Esme placed the bag on the table and withdrew the box. “I believe this belongs to you,” she said. She eyed Fielding, and when
he nodded she slid the box across the table to Jensen.

Jensen caught the box and kept his hand resting on top. “We have a place to keep dangerous antiquities such as this.”

They passed an envelope to Fielding. He opened it and found his payment. He set the envelope on the table. “I believe Miss
Worthington would prefer to keep the key in her possession. It was a gift from her father and is rather special,” Fielding
said.

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Jensen said. “But before you go, we have another proposition for you.”

“I believe I’ve retired. For good this time,” Fielding said. He had a different sort of life in mind now. One he hoped would
involve Esme, but he hadn’t yet had the courage or the opportunity to ask her.

“We do not wish to hire you again, but rather have an offer for both you and Miss Worthington.”

At that Esme raised her head. “Me, sir?”

“Indeed. Not only have the two of you saved Pandora’s box, but I believe it is safe to say you saved our country’s prized
possessions. Because of your great risk,” Jensen continued, “and your heroism, we would like to officially extend an invitation
to both of you for membership into Solomon’s.”

A round of applause sounded around them, and Fielding nearly forgot where he was.

“Join? Solomon’s?” Esme’s hand moved to her heart. “But you do not allow women,” she said softly.

“There is, on occasion, opportunity to make exceptions,” Jensen said.

“Then we accept,” Esme said, coming to her feet. “Thank you.”

Fielding stood and put his hand on Esme’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Hope,” she said as she looked up into his eyes.

His heart swelled with love. He’d come close to losing her too many times. He’d never make that mistake again. If he had to
spend the rest of his life proving to her that he loved her, he would do precisely that.

Jensen stood and left the room momentarily, then came back with a tattered brown book. “The butler will explain to both of
you the layout of the building and all the rooms within. You will be given the password, which changes weekly. You may return
any time you like. This is your club now.”

“Thank you,” Fielding said. He held the envelope out to Jensen. “I believe the previous payment more than covered my expenses.”

Jensen nodded and took the money. “Mr. Grey, one more thing. I do believe this belongs to you,” Jensen said, holding out the
book.

Fielding flipped it open. There within the ratty pages were notes and drawings and diagrams and equations, all in his father’s
pen. “My father’s journal. I thought it was lost in the cave-in.”

“Our men recovered it,” Jensen said. “We’d been saving it for you, for the appropriate time. I know you said you were retired,
but in case someday you want to finish his work… He had gotten very close to unearthing the Templar’s gold.”

For the second time that day, Fielding was at a loss for words.

They were seated in the carriage on the way back to Max’s house. They’d spend one more night there, and then she could return
home. A hint of wistfulness passed over her. Would it be the last night she’d see Fielding?

Hope
. She had worn the band of hope. So the desire they’d felt couldn’t have been part of any curse. It had been real. Authentic
need. And it was finally time to tell Fielding how she felt.

“Perhaps that’s why we were able to succeed,” she offered. “The hope from my band.”

“You were so worried that my desire for you was manufactured by the curse. I told you I wanted you. Honestly wanted you.”
He pulled her to his lap. “I still do.”

She felt the proof of his desire pressing into her bottom.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he said, his voice raw with honesty. “I thought I’d lost you yesterday, and I can’t face that
again.”

She didn’t want to lose him either, but it was time for her to have what she truly longed for. “I don’t want to be your mistress,
Fielding,” she said. “I might have once believed that was enough for me, but not any longer. I love you; I want you to love
me. Anything short of that, I can’t accept.” She ran her hand down his cheek. “It’s all right, though. We had a lovely time
together, and I’ll cherish the memories forever. But you’ve changed me; this experience changed me.”

He nodded gravely. “You deserve everything you want, everything that has been denied you.”

Pain knotted in her stomach. He wasn’t arguing with her. Let her leave the carriage without crying, that’s all she asked.
If she stayed cradled in his arms much longer, she’d end up back in his bed, and it would be even more difficult to walk away.
She tried to remove herself from his lap, but his arms stayed tightly wrapped around her.

“You need to let me go,” she said.

“No doubt I’ll be a wretched husband.”

“Precisely,” she said, and then his words penetrated. “Husband?”

He smiled, those dimples of his piercing his scruffy cheeks, and she thought her heart might explode.

“Esme, I love you. I have no doubt you’ll drive me to Bedlam, but it will be a hell of a ride. Marry me.”

The tears she’d tried to keep at bay came despite her best efforts. “Do you mean it? Truly, you want me to marry you?”

“I’m quite serious. Be my wife.” His expression was so gentle, his eyes so full of love for her. “I can’t offer you much in
the way of name and reputation, since I am a bastard”—he gave her a wry smile—“but I have plenty of money. Will you still
have me?”