Surrender to the Devil (19 page)

“There’s so much blood.”

“Sometimes the shallowest of wounds gives the appearance of a great wound. Let me have a look here, all right?”

With a nod, she eased back, her pressure on the wound easing. As she stood to give Bill more room, she felt arms come around her and she buried her face in Jim’s shoulder, grateful for the comfort he gave. He urged her away from the bed. As much as she wanted to go with him, she couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Greystone to suffer alone.

“No, I’m staying near,” she said, suddenly breaking free and walking back to the bed. “Do you need more light, Bill?”

“Yes, please.”

She lifted the lamp from the bedside table and held it aloft over Greystone so Bill could have a better look. “Oh, it’s ghastly.”

“I don’t think it’s as bad as all that.” Bill pressed against the duke’s chest and Greystone sucked in air through his clenched teeth. “Did that hurt, Your Grace?”

The duke glared at him.

“Yes, I suppose it did. Silly of me to ask. May have bruised your ribs a bit. You must have smashed him pretty hard, Frannie.”

“I was trying to kill him.” She grimaced. “Well, not Greystone. The man who attacked me.”

“And who was that?” Jack asked.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? You know every man who comes in the club.”

“He wasn’t one of our customers.”

“What did he want?”

“What does any man want who throws a woman up against a wall?”

“Would you recognize him if you saw him again?”

Now she was the one glaring, glaring at Jack. “Can’t we wait for this inquisition?”

“The sooner we go looking for him, the more likely we’ll find him and have an opportunity to deal with him.”

She looked at Jim. He was with Scotland Yard. He should be asking the questions.

“Doesn’t matter when we get the questions answered,” Jim said quietly. “I’ll find him. I’ll take care of him.”

“Don’t do anything foolish,” she said.

“Just try to remember what he looked like.”

“It was dark. I couldn’t see and I had survival on my mind.”

“Maybe the duke saw him.”

“No, too dark and shadowy,” Greystone ground out, then hissed at whatever Bill was doing to him.

“Try to stay still, Your Grace,” Bill said. “I’m going to remove some of your clothes here, then stitch you up and bind those ribs.”

Greystone gave a quick nod.

With Jim’s help, Bill removed Greystone’s finely tailored jacket, waistcoat, and shirt. She supposed she should have been embarrassed at the sight of a man’s bare chest, but she was too concerned about his wound to give it much thought—except for the passing realization that he was as finely made as his clothing.

“What the devil is that?” Jack asked.

Frannie eased around to see what Jack was staring at. Greystone’s back bore a painting of an unusual creature with fire coming out of its mouth and wings spread wide.

“Tattoo,” Greystone ground out, as he moved to lie back down.

“Never seen anything like that.”

“Go to Japan.” He arched a brow as though Jack wouldn’t know where Japan was. “Far side of the world.”

“Bring the light a little closer, Frannie,” Bill said, snapping everyone’s attention back to the matter at hand.

“Oh, yes, sorry.”

She knelt beside the bed, holding the lamp so it provided adequate illumination for Bill to properly handle his task, but her stomach went all squeamish at the sight of him working. She averted her gaze and found herself staring into Greystone’s pain-filled eyes. She wanted to apologize again, but apologies after a while became irritants. She wanted to take his hand, but she’d have to move around Bill or go to the other side of the bed, and with Jim and Jack both watching, she was suddenly very self-conscious, wondering what she might be giving away. She couldn’t overlook the fact that he was a duke. She’d not wanted to marry Luke because he was an earl, and a duke was so much more. Greystone especially, because he’d been bred and led toward the position. The manner in which he held himself. His every stance, movement, his complete bearing spoke of noble blood. Even now, he bore his pain with an occasional grimace but nothing more.

“All right, Your Grace, let’s try to sit you up. I want to wrap your ribs, simply as a precaution,” Bill said.

Frannie veered slightly away so he could swing his legs over. Her bed seemed so small with him in it. As soon as he was situated, his gaze came back to hers, as though she had the power to ease his suffering.

When Bill was finished, he gave Greystone some laudanum. “I’m sure you’re experiencing a great deal of discomfort. This should ease your pain on the journey home.”

“Are you saying he’s fit to leave?” Frannie asked.

“I’m sure he has a well-sprung coach. The journey shouldn’t be too unbearable.”

“I’d rather he stay here so I can look after him.”

“He’s not in danger of dying. Granted, the wound could get infected, but—”

“It’s my doing. I should tend to him, at least for a few hours.”

“I’ve no objections,” Greystone said, and Frannie nearly leaped out of her skin. His deep voice still harbored an undercurrent of pain.

“Then it’s settled,” she said.

“I’m not certain that’s a good idea,” Jim said. “Your reputation—”

“Dear God, my reputation? Are you going to run about London spreading rumors?”

“No, but, Frannie—”

“Oh, God, Jim, not now,” Frannie said. “Help me change the bedding.”

When they were finished, Greystone lay back down and closed his eyes. His breathing wasn’t as harsh, but he was still pale. It took a bit of arguing, persuading, and insisting, but she finally convinced Jack and Bill to leave. They were worried about her and she appreciated it, but she didn’t need them hovering around like mother hens. Jim was a bit more hardheaded.

“Are you sure you’re not hurt?” he asked, his gaze running the length of her.

Looking down, she realized her dress sported almost as much blood as Greystone’s clothes. “I’m going to freshen up. Keep an eye on him.”

She wasn’t at all uncomfortable with the notion of going behind her screen in order to change into clean clothes after washing away the blood with Jim near. They’d slept in the same room, taken their yearly bath in the same tub. And Greystone was asleep.

Sterling didn’t remember drifting off to sleep, but when he opened his eyes, he didn’t see any of the men about and was certain they were gone, because what he did see was a silhouette of Frannie behind a screen. She raised an arm high over her head and stroked her other hand along it. She was washing up, he deduced. He could see only the shadow of her, but it was enough for him to realize she no longer wore a dress. His body tightened painfully—nowhere in the vicinity of his wound—as her hands moved along her shoulders, lowered—

“I’d close those eyes again if I were you.”

Sterling jerked his head to the side to discover his worst nightmare sitting there. Swindler’s gaze bore into him.

“It would be unfortunate if Graves misjudged the seriousness of your injury, and you were to suddenly expire on the spot. Frannie would be terribly disappointed,” Swindler said.

“And you don’t like to see her disappointed.”

“It’s the only reason you’re still breathing.”

“For someone who is supposed to uphold the law, you threaten an inordinate amount.”

“When it comes to matters involving Frannie, I have my own laws.”

“As I’ve mentioned before, I have no intentions of harming her. Tonight I might have very well saved her life. I’d expect a bit of appreciation for that.”

“That’s the difference between us, Your Grace. If I’d saved her life, I’d have expected no thanks whatsoever. Wouldn’t have even wanted them.”

Sterling shook his head in frustration. “Doesn’t matter what I do, Swindler, you’ll find fault with it. Rot in hell.”

Swindler chuckled low. “I’ll be taking you with me.”

“I’m already there, man.”

Swindler seemed taken aback by that, his eyes narrowing. “I didn’t think the wound was that serious.”

“This”—he glanced at the bandages wrapped around his chest—“is nothing. You flatter yourself into thinking the devil only visits the impoverished and destitute. Quite honestly, Inspector, you’re beginning to bore me with your self-righteous view that only you can know what hell truly is.”

Whatever retort Swindler may have wanted to make went unsaid as Frannie walked out from behind the screen in a black dress, as though Sterling was already dead and she was preparing to go to the funeral. He wanted her in the green gown or nothing at all. Yes, nothing at all was preferable.

“You’re awake,” she said.

“Barely.”

She smiled at Swindler. “Thank you for seeing after him while I tidied up. I think you can go now.”

“Frannie, I don’t think it’s wise to leave you alone—”

“Jim, I retrieved my dagger.” She patted her side. “He’s aware I know well how to use it. Besides, he put himself in harm’s way earlier. I think he deserves a bit of trust.”

Swindler gave Sterling one last glare, designed to kill a lesser man, before pushing himself to his feet. Heading for the door, he stopped momentarily to touch Frannie’s cheek. “Just watch yourself.”

Frannie followed him to the door, gave him a reassuring smile and a gentle nudge onto the stoop. After closing the door, she turned the lock. Sykes’s man might have run off, but nothing prevented him from returning at his leisure.

With a weary sigh, she walked toward the bed, coming up short when she saw that Greystone was watching her with those cobalt-blue eyes.

“That inspector…he’s in love with you,” Greystone said quietly.

“All of Feagan’s lads are.” Brushing off his words, she walked to the chair and sat.

“Not like he is.”

“We’re friends, nothing more.”

“Why did you lie to them?” Greystone asked, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and pushing himself up to a sitting position. “You did know who attacked you and you knew what he wanted.”

“I didn’t know who he was. And they would just worry.”

“I wasn’t close enough to hear everything, but I did catch the name Sykes. Has this anything to do with the boy?”

“Possibly. He ran away. I spent much of today in the rookeries searching for him. I came away with four children but none of them were Jimmy. I’m assuming Sykes was outside your residence last night and probably saw us taking the lad to the orphanage. He may have seen me going into your residence, recognized me. I don’t know. Perhaps the boy told him.”

“Why didn’t you explain all this to Swindler? He could arrest this Sykes fellow—”

“For what? It’s not against the law to threaten.”

“He sent someone to hurt you.”

“What proof do I have that he was behind it? I didn’t get a good look at the fellow, so there’s no one to testify. And even if I did know who attacked me and Jim located him”—she shook her head—“Sykes is not someone anyone would testify against. He is the devil incarnate.”

She didn’t appreciate the way he was scrutinizing her, as though he could read her thoughts. “You didn’t tell them what you knew because you knew they’d try to take care of it.”

“I thought they might get hurt trying to take care of it. And because…” Her voice trailed off.

“Because?” he prodded.

She gazed at him intently. “How many of them have threatened you?”

A muscle in his jaw jumped. Men. So damned proud. They wanted to handle their own affairs, not show any weakness, not ask for help. Why couldn’t they understand that sometimes a woman felt the need for the same considerations?

“All of them,” she said with conviction.

“No,” he responded quickly.

She nodded thoughtfully. “Bill didn’t. He wouldn’t. That’s because he’s a healer. He can’t stand to see anyone suffering. But the others…I love the lads. I’ve always loved them, but sometimes I feel as though they’re suffocating me.”

“You need their help here.”

She nodded. She knew she did, but just once she wished she could be as independent as she wanted.

Reaching out, he took her hand and skimmed his thumb over her knuckles. It seemed he welcomed any excuse to touch her, as though he relished her nearness as much as she did his. “Come to my residence for a few days.”

“And to your bed?”

“No. Not unless you want to.” With a low moan, he reached back for his shirt and began putting it on. “You were attacked tonight and that had to be…difficult.”

She felt the tears stinging her eyes and blinked them back. In most ways it wasn’t like before, but still it had brought back the horrid memories.

“You nearly killed me, which would have been tragic.”

She bit back her smile. How could he make her want to laugh and cry at the same time?

“You’re bound to be feeling guilty about it. And now you have to worry about this Sykes fellow. How can you think clearly, Frannie? He won’t think to look for you at my residence. Even if he saw you come there last night, he won’t think I’ve invited you back.”

“My orphans—”

“Can survive for a few days without you. You have staff to look after them. And I need a nurse to help me with my recovery. I’d think you’d suffice. When was the last time you had a few days of not worrying about anything?”

But being in his residence would bring with it another set of worries. Could she remain near him and not want him?

“My coach is waiting down the street.”

“Your poor driver—”

“He’s accustomed to waiting until dawn on some occasions, and I pay him well enough not to be bothered by it.” He folded his hand around his waistcoat and jacket. “Come with me. Otherwise, I’ll have to stay here, and no offense, but you’re lacking in amenities. Dodger obviously is taking advantage of your goodness. He needs to increase your salary. I can have my solicitor discuss the matter with him.”

“I have no complaints regarding my pay.” For the first time, she viewed her accommodations through his eyes. They were rather…depressing. “I believe my money is better spent on the orphanage.”

“But to sacrifice everything—”

“I don’t sacrifice anything that I truly want.” Although she truly wanted him, and here she was arguing against going when there was nothing she desired more.