Stages of Desire (10 page)

She gasped and a ripple of heat radiated down his body. He trailed one hand to her breast and gently pinched her nipple. She cried out with pleasure, and he increased the pressure.

He wanted to feel her breasts against his bare skin. Kissing her deeply, he pulled her toward him and received his reward, her nipples like hard pebbles. He had to make love to her. No one would know, it wouldn't matter, and he could inhabit this exquisite creature and be one with her. He'd never desired anything so much, to be carried away by the scent of lilacs and her silken touch, her soft skin and yielding lips.

Her breeches were not as easily removed, and he fumbled on the buttons. As if coming out of a dream, she placed her hands on his and looked up at him in panic.

“No, I can't.” Harriet abruptly pulled away. She reached down, picked up her shirt, and held it to her chest.

He took a couple of unsteady steps back. He'd had too much wine and had overstepped the boundaries of decency. But he still wanted her.

“What's wrong?”

She turned away and scrambled back into her shirt. “I'm sorry. I'm not sure what I was thinking. I can't do this to Marianne and Her Grace. I've already lost one family. I can't lose another.”

She was right. What they were doing would have been unimaginable in London. But they weren't in town and for some reason out here in the night air the rules no longer applied. He must possess this talented, enticing woman, even if it was for only one night.

“No one need know.”

She glared at him. “I am not someone to be played with. No matter what you think of my family's profession, I do have some dignity.”

“I'm not playing with you.” His words lacked conviction. He had come this close to making love with the woman who was practically a sister to Marianne. What had he been thinking?

“It's not fair,” she said. “To Marianne, most of all.”

Before he could respond, she turned and disappeared down the stairs. He waited until the clattering of her footsteps faded before slowly winding his own way down, one worn tread at a time.

Chapter 8

Harriet kept her distance from William the next morning and made sure to choose a different mode of transportation to Birmingham than he.

She and Freddie rode upon an enormous wagon lent by a local livery owner who'd been one of Lord Warwick's guests the night before. They were loaded down with set pieces, including reams of cloth for backdrops provided by a Stratford-upon-Avon draper, while ahead Toby and William rode atop a similar wagon packed with costumes. Much further up the road, Martin, Miss Entwhistle, Mrs. Kembler, and Adam barreled away in a fancy carriage lent by Lord Warwick himself.

Toby appeared to be talking non-stop to William, who nodded his head every so often. Her brother, on the other hand, was uncharacteristically taciturn, which gave her time to think.

Last night she and William had drunk too much, and it was best the episode be forgotten. William wasn't the man for her, no matter how well he kissed or how good his hands felt around her waist.

In the moment, she'd been stunned by her carnality, how it had erupted within her like a volcano. His eagerness had fed her own cravings. Only when he'd reached for her breeches did she come to her senses. No matter how sensual the curve of his lip or tempting the taste of his skin, he was no different from his late brother. A quick fling with an actress, that was all he'd been hoping for.

She resolved to have nothing more to do with him.

“What's with your earl?” asked Freddie.

She was aghast at his choice of subject, and his phrasing. “What on earth do you mean? He's not my earl.”

“What about the kiss onstage, the way you two are always looking at each other?”

She wasn't sure if he was teasing or angry. Freddie had seemed edgy this morning, and they'd gotten a late start due to his fiddling about.

“The kiss was part of the scene.”

He flicked the reins. “Shakespeare didn't write that part. I know that much. Perhaps you use a different folio than I.”

His needling irked her. “Lord Abingdon is to marry Lady Marianne.”

“Then why isn't he in London wooing her?”

She sighed. “He and my guardian are worried I'll stain Marianne's good name, and thereby his.”

“As if your dressing as a man and gallivanting around the countryside hasn't done it already?”

“As long as no one in London finds out. I've promised him I'll return to the city once Father is out of trouble.”

They rode along in silence for a while. The forest grew thicker and darker and Harriet could barely make out patches of blue sky above her. Ancient oak trees stretched up and out, enveloping the road on all sides, like a verdant tunnel. She breathed in the smell of warm, moist earth and promised herself she'd remember the scent when she returned to her old life, no matter how overwhelming the city's odors became.

“How much money does Lord Abingdon have?”

His directness was too much. “Freddie! I don't know. And it doesn't matter.”

“He's practically your brother-in-law, right?”

The idea irritated her. “I don't think they're engaged quite yet.” She didn't add she was the reason for the delay.

“How's your arm healing?” she asked, hoping to change the subject.

“It'll be fine. It stung some this morning but your earl changed the bandage and the pain's subsided.”

“You were so brave, back at Adam's.”

His face briefly twisted into a grimace. “Say, I have an idea. Why don't you ask Lord Abingdon for the money to pay Father's debt? I'll take it up to Birmingham and you and he can get back to your fancy London friends. This silly business will be over and done with.”

“He's already offered and I turned him down. They want a show up in Birmingham, not money.”

Freddie's voice was gruff. “Money solves everything, you should know that by now.”

“You're awfully cynical.”

“And you are unrealistic. Accept the fact the Farley Players are finished. Get Father out of debt and we'll carry on with our lives. There's no need to put on a show, we've been through enough.”

“How can you say such a thing?”

“Look, Harry. You're living in a dream world. You don't know how difficult the past few years have been. I'm tired of this life, and so is Father. That's why he's been drinking so much. It's exhausting, having to charm and cajole money out of tight-fisted dukes and earls. It's no different from the life of a beggar. I can't do it anymore. I want to do something else.”

“What else would you do?”

“I'll start my own business. I'll move to London.” His fist holding the reins clenched, as if he were barely holding in his anger, and the horses threw back their heads in irritation. “You had an easy life, so you take for granted the things we have to work hard for. Warmth, clothing, food. The basics. Year after year.”

“I didn't choose to leave. Father sent me away.”

“I would have traded places with you, if I could.”

His mouth set in a grim line. What had happened to her silly, fun-loving brother?

“I'm sorry, Freddie, I am.”

“Don't get your hopes up. You'll see when we get there. It's over. ‘That is the true beginning of our end.'”

“
Midsummer Night's Dream
, act five, scene one.”

He slowly nodded his head. “You certainly are your father's daughter.”

Harriet was proud to hear him say that, yet distraught her brother was so unhappy.

The horses clopped on down the road, the wagon's wheels creaking in regular intervals. As they curved around the next bend, a shout rose up. On the side of the road, a hundred feet ahead, lay a man clutching his leg. Toby had pulled up his horses while another man ran toward the wagon, yelling for help.

“There's been an accident,” said Harriet. “Get closer and we'll see what we can do.”

“No.” Freddie halted the horses and secured the reins. “You stay here. I'll take a look.”

Freddie jumped down and Harriet followed, ignoring him.

By the time they arrived at the fallen man, William was already leaning over him, his medicine bag by his side.

“What happened?” asked Harriet.

The other man didn't answer right away. He squinted at Harriet, then Toby and Freddie as if he were sizing each of them up. He was a giant of a man, a good foot taller than Harriet, and looked as if he hadn't washed in several days. “My friend's horse reared. Something spooked it. Damn animal.” He paced and came to stand behind Harriet as the man on the ground let out a low groan.

“Lie still, I'll take a look at your leg,” said William.

The fallen one's moans grew louder. “It hurts, it hurts.”

Without warning, the other man reached one arm around Harriet's waist and pulled her backward, lifting her off the ground. She screamed but it was too late. The man on the ground pulled out a knife then kicked William hard so he fell onto his back. From the cold sensation against Harriet's throat, her attacker was armed as well.

“What do you want?” asked Toby, holding both hands aloft.

“Don't worry about that.” The injured man had miraculously recovered and was now standing. “No questions from you.”

Harriet tried to squirm as the other man's hand crossed her chest. “Don't!”

“Wait a minute.” The man's fingers spread over Harriet's breast. “This one's a girl.”

“Very nice,” his partner responded.

“Leave her be,” said Freddie. “She's my sister. Take what you want but don't hurt her.”

“I'll do whatever I want, and I like the feel of your sister.”

The shorter assailant forced Freddie, Toby, and William against the side of the wagon before he knelt down and rummaged through William's medicine bag. “Let's see what we have here.” He pulled out several jars and read the labels. “Tonic syrup, arsenic, elixir.” He shook one at his cohort. “This is the one, opium. Good stuff, this.”

“Get on with it,” said the other with a growl. He addressed the group. “We're taking your wagons.”

“Take them and go,” said William.

“And we're taking the girl.”

“No,” cried Harriet. Freddie had plastered himself against the side of the wagon and seemed paralyzed by the situation, his breath coming in shallow gasps. William, on the other hand, was measured and deliberate, and didn't take his eyes off her face, as if he were trying to tell her something.

The doctor's bag was proving quite a draw. The shorter one turned it over and unceremoniously dumped out the rest of contents. When he unfolded a leather pouch, several frightening looking scalpels fell to the ground.

“These'll fetch a good sum.”

Harriet's mind raced with possibilities. If she could disarm her assailant, their attackers would be outnumbered. She had to get them off their guard. “I'll go willingly, don't harm anyone else.”

Her attacker grunted in response, but slightly loosened his hold on her. William gave a tiny nod of his head and looked to the ground. A few feet away from him lay an ivory-tipped probe of some sort. In an instant, she knew what he was trying to tell her.

Harriet summoned up her courage. She needed her voice to be strong and confident and not betray her terror. “In fact, I was hoping to get away from these boys. I could use some fun.”

The shorter man stopped toying with the instruments. He grinned and sauntered over to her. “I bet you could.” He had enormous ears and his skin was flaky and dry.

“You'll make a grand couple, I'm sure.” Her attacker withdrew the knife and shoved her into the arms of the other.

Harriet fell into him and looked over his shoulder at William, who surreptitiously held up three fingers. He nodded once, twice, and on the third time, Harriet dropped to the ground between the two men. William moved in a flash, scooping up the probe and driving it into the back of the man who'd been holding her. Once he was prone, Harriet whirled around and kicked the other one hard in the groin while William stabbed the probe into his neck. He keeled over, blood pouring from the wound.

“Let's go, get on the wagons,” William yelled.

Harriet helped him gather his instruments and medicines while Toby and Freddie jumped onto the lead wagon.

William helped Harriet into the other and they flew off with a gallop.

“Are you all right?” he asked once they were a safe distance away.

“I'm fine. And you?”

“Fine.”

His voice simmered with anger. “The minute I've concluded my business in Birmingham, we're going back to London. I don't care about your father, or the blasted acting company. It's too dangerous.”

“I assure you, this kind of thing has never happened before.”

“You're a young girl and it's not safe. If they had hurt you...” He didn't finish the sentence.

The fierceness in his voice touched her. But she couldn't let him send her back when they'd come this far. “We managed fairly well. We escaped all right.”

“But what if someone had gotten killed? What if they'd kidnapped you?”

“But they didn't.” She had to calm him down. “Besides, this is your fault.”

He stared hard at her. “What on earth does that mean?”

“You said the name of the Scottish play the first time we met. Obviously, the curse has fallen upon us. First a fire, then a robbery. What else could it be?” Harriet couldn't believe she was joking around at a time like this. Her voice had a hysterical pitch to it she'd never heard before. She must be in shock.

“And you think it's because I said the word—”

“Don't say it!”

“That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. Besides, you said it was not to be spoken in a theater. We haven't been in a theater yet.”

“Which reminds me, before you enter the Theatre Royal in Birmingham, there are a few things you'll have to do to wipe away the curse.”

“Don't be ridiculous. You're going to London and no one will be setting foot in the Theatre Royal.” There was a short pause before he spoke again. “What things?”

“You have to spin around three times, spit, and then swear.”

“Good Lord.”

“It's the cleansing ritual. You can do it or not. Your choice.”

They remained silent the rest of the way.

* * * *

The streets of Birmingham were crowded and lively when the wagons pulled into town. They stopped at a fancy hotel where William knew the owner from University. On the strength of his connections, he'd booked rooms for Harriet and Miss Entwhistle, and Harriet had overheard him establish a line of credit. He'd even insisted Freddie take a room as well, so he could keep a close eye on his wound, even though the rest of the cast was lodging at a local inn. A small part of Harriet hoped he'd made the suggestion as a gesture of goodwill toward her, but she reminded herself he was acting as any physician would.

William and Freddie were deep in conversation when she met up with them in the grand lobby. William avoided eye contact as they headed out, but she tried not to let it bother her. The debacle on the castle wall, followed by their strange exchange in the wagon, had strained whatever connection they'd made the previous day. But none of that mattered right now. She was about to see her father for the first time in six years.

“The key to success is innovation,” she heard William say.

“What do you mean?” asked Freddie.

“Birmingham is a businessman's dream. London is trapped in the old way of doing things, holding onto rigid rules that no longer apply. Here you have a skilled, flexible workforce and a booming economy. Whether you want a buckle or a button or candlestick maker, you'll find them in this city.”

“You can find those items in London.”

“But here they're better made and sold for less money.”